confessions

Best of 2013, the People

December 30, 2013 by Edie Wadsworth 14 Comments

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I just got back from a 4 mile run. Perhaps the hardest run of the year, because, well, there’s been no shortage of fudge around here. And, despite my knack for spending hoards of time in my pj’s lately, I’m determined to finish the year strong, aka, READ, RUN, START a quilt. The last few days of the year are like a football huddle for me, in that, I immerse myself in the words of people I admire and trust (Lewis, Chesterton, Jesus, etc) and come up with a game plan for going forward. It’s a long huddle, but I’ll tell you all about it January 1st.

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It feels like I’ve been lost in a rabbit hole and I secretly hope no one finds me. At least until January 4th, which is my birthday. Then you can find me and bring me cake. I’ve sat for days, surrounded by 1) a stack of books—most of which I’ve read in the last week 2) a flurry of notes and pens and plans 3) a brand new 2014 planner 4) a spring garden notebook, 5) my favorite peeps, and 6) the best leftovers of all time. This span of time between Christmas and the early days of the New Year—called the 12 Days of Christmas by the church—is my favorite. I leave the tree up, we stay in our pj’s most days, I read like there’s no tomorrow, we watch marathons of Netflix shows (this year? Alaska, the Last Frontier, which means I now want to homestead in Alaska. Stevie says we don’t have enough “hard bark” on us to do that. Whatever, is all I have to say), and I make goals and schemes and plans like my life depends on it. The failures from last year? They don’t taunt me at all. Starting fresh is the air I breathe.

It’s like no other time of the year and I cherish it so. There’s a pause of life that gives me time to think and reorder my days, to go in desperate search of the right track, to dream dreams of richer days, of bigger gardens, of nobler living, to learn to count the days and make them count.

But, I also love looking back at the year. It was a good one. And the pause to look back and give thanks is always the best place to start, when a shiny new calendar full of possibility is pulling on your heart strings.

First and foremost, I’m thankful for you. I really am. I spend oodles of hours writing and sharing in the space and I can’t imagine doing that without you. Your emails and comments and encouragement keep me going, when it would be easy to quit. Thank you so much—for meeting me here, for giving me grace, for challenging and inspiring me in ways you don’t even realize. You are my favorite reason for doing this for 6 years and counting.

I’m also completely indebted to all of you who link to my writing, share it on Facebook, on your blogs, etc. I’ve never had a huge tipping point in growth, just the steady referrals that come from the most generous people on the planet. A huge thank you to the top referrals to my blog this year. I love you all and admire the hard work you pour into your sites. Sending big hugs and many thanks to:

This past year, I got to meet several people in person that I’ve loved and admired from afar.

I spent a very inspiring weekend at Angela’s cottage with some of my favorite peeps.

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Angela, Darlene, Sheila, and Myquillin, and missing in this photo, Shannon

The hardest part of our year was when Stevie’s dad passed away. We miss our MN family and the older kids who don’t live near. It was wonderful to be together and reminisce of a life well-lived.

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Shaun Groves asked me to travel with Compassion last June and it was such a pleasure to meet and travel with Kelly, Traci, Kristi, Keely, and Bri.

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and I’m still holding those memories, and those two precious girlies, close to my heart.

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Ruth and I spoke at Becoming together, which made for a fun few days of preparing at my house beforehand and a fun visit with Jen—then we all roomed together at Allume with my doll baby, Paige. We adopted Bri as the cutest and sweetest little sister ever!

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I also met Ann and Melanie at Allume, which made my year!

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My dearest peeps are the ones that share the hardest parts of my story…..

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And the ones that live in my house. I’m so blessed.

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See you tomorrow for more of the BEST OF!

A Few Things I LOVE lately

November 15, 2013 by Edie Wadsworth 15 Comments

1. A good stroll down Memory Lane

Okay. So, my 25 year high school reunion is this weekend. (Let’s go ahead and have a moment of silence.)

My sister sent me some photos to commemorate the special event and I nearly fainted. This is the only one I can show you and still retain any semblance of dignity.

Apparently, 1988 was a good year for hair and eye shadow. And that’s a fact. Since I didn’t lose any weight for the reunion, a leftover spray tan and some Crest white strips will be the extent of my preparations. Unless I can get my hair to do this again. All I’ll need are 3 cans of White Rain.

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p.s. My sister still has our cheerleading uniforms. I have no idea why except that we shared a closet in high school and finding things was a problem. I think she realized she still had them five years too late. And um, nice hair.

Well, okay, one more, since you begged.

Apparently, this was powder puff Homecoming, so I was dressed as a guy. That’s me in the rust colored three piece suit.

I hope we can still be friends.

2. Memory Lane, 2.0

I went to ETSU Quillen College of Medicine yesterday, with my beloved Taylor, who’s applying to med school this year. My two favorite people from that era of my life are still doing amazing work and it was SO wonderful to see them and reminisce. (Doug Taylor and Dr. Kwasigroch—I love you both dearly!) I graduated from there in 1998. 15 years ago. How is this possible? How old AM I?

I went through of brief period (3 weeks?) of ‘natural’ hair color, so good luck finding me. Here’s my message to my 28 year old self.

Dear thinner, but dumber version of me: “Get your highlights back, put on some more eye make up and stop over plucking your eyebrows. You may be a doctor, but you’re still a Southerner, now act like it. Also, enjoy the body. It doesn’t last forever. Love ya.”

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And how in the world can my son be applying to medical school already? Oh, yeah, that’s right, I had him when I was 10.

Well, 20, which is almost the same thing. He’s home tonight, too, so maybe I can strong arm him into a game of Scrabble.

3. Good Friends doing Good Things

Melanie’s giving a video tutorial on the side bun. Run, don’t walk. HI-LARRY-us, is what she is.

Ruth’s day of fantastic giveaways is here. I cannot believe the stuff she’s giving away.

My adorable friend, Paige, sells THE BEST jewelry. Check out her Noonday shop!

My friend, Jen, wrote about how to save $500 right now! Good stuff!

4. A Few Great Sale Items

Dayspring has a few great things on sale this week that would make a perfect addition to your holiday festivities and gift giving.

Visit DaySpring Home Page for some great things on sale and you can get $20 off $70 order with the code 20off70.

Open Ended Life

November 7, 2013 by Edie Wadsworth 24 Comments

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The Avett Brothers just released a new album, so I’m all twisted up in new melodies and lyrics— wrestling with what it means to live open, as a believer, as a mother and a woman, in this world which seems to have gone stark raving mad.

Open-Ended Life? Is is even possible? Desirable? Shouldn’t we protect ourselves and cling to whatever we can?

It’s surely not our natural stance to live open, in reception. We like to hunker down. We like to hover over our stuff and our rights and our part.

The posture of grabbing is not the same as the posture of receiving, but we’re all way better at the former.

We shroud our lives up all tight and hope no one takes note of what we’re covering. But, the breath of Grace will find a way to seep in and start a fire, that burns it all down. He will exchange His open-ended life for our shriveled up, closed up lives.

And we’ll finally be free. Free to love and serve and give, without the weight and the stench of the grave clothes.

Free, like Mary, to be the bearer of the Gift, in a world that is dying for redemption.

She said to the angel, “I am the handmaiden of the Lord. Let it be to me according to Your word.”

“Let it be to me”……this is the stance of faith. This is what it means to receive everything from God’s loving hand, whether it makes sense or is popular or even seems to be for my good.

Those words ring out through the ages as Mary’s song, her Magnificat, her quiet yes, in world that’s always grabbing for its own part, tearing in violence to keep something for itself.

The sin of Adam, which ushered in our suffering and death will be answered by Christ, the suffering Savior, whose kingdom is born in you, through the obedience and the quiet yes of a young girl from Nazareth. It must have seemed like no time to her that the linens she wrapped her baby in became his grave clothes. And just like Mary, the shroud that covered you in your dying with Him—the shroud where you still hide your sin and death, where you try to squirrel away something for yourself—will become the swaddling clothes with which you offer your gifts to the world. He’s still working miracles of resurrection in us everyday.

The yes cry of the mother of God would break her heart into a thousand pieces. Mary, who gave birth in agony, who nursed Christ at her breast and followed His path until it lead Him to the cross, where she saw him beaten beyond recognition, the one who cared for His crucified body when He died, then suffered the unthinkable loss of both her sons so that the kingdom of God might be born in us all. Mary’s fiat, her “Let it be to me as you have said,” becomes our anthem too, our broken hallelujah.

This gift, this Christ child, growing in you will break your heart and yet, it will be the means of your healing. It will wreck you and then be the very path to your of your salvation. His body broken will become the bread at His table, where He, Himself will be the pascal Lamb. There, He will join His flesh to your flesh and you will enter into the mysteries of true communion with your Father. There, He nourishes you so that you may rise up from the table, and feed His sheep.

You, my sisters and brothers, are the handmaiden of the Lord.

Christ is the Gift, and we kneel, hands open, to receive Him and we marvel at how He graciously uses us to bear this Gift to others.

Your song is not a diatribe so that you can be right.

It’s not a rallying cry, where we grab for what seems to have been taken from us.

This is not your song anymore. This is His song. Your life is His life and when you give it away to Him, he will hide you and keep you safe.

It’s a hands open, heart shattered, broken hallelujah.

Sing , my friend, the song of redemption—His one and only song, so that the kingdom of God might be born in the hearts of men.

(Don’t worry about your voice. He’ll drown you out. I’m pretty sure he sounds like Scott Avett, only better!)

What I Learned in September

September 27, 2013 by Edie Wadsworth 10 Comments

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1. I learned a new song by Patty Griffin. I’m a confessed Patty fan and somewhat ashamed of myself for just now learning the genius of the song, Mary, from her album Flaming Red It so inspired me in my mothering journey that I wrote about it.

2. I learned that decorating a room, together with a 13 year old, is pretty awesome. I also learned the best and easiest way to make oversized photo prints. I’ll be making lots more of these!

3. I rekindled my love with all things FALL and learned that there is no such thing as too much pumpkin. I’m in love with pumpkins. This week I made pumpkin chocolate chip muffins and chipotle pumpkin soup. Both to.die.for.

4. I was forced to remember that stress doesn’t agree with me. I’ve been a busy girl since I gave up homeschooling—working on my 31 Days series coming next week, doing lots of projects for this blog and my Creative Christmas class, preparing my talk for Allume, working on my regular writing commitments, and keeping up with the normal stuff that goes with keeping a house running. I now have a constant, horrendous headache from the blooming ragweed and 3 mouth sores. MISerable, is what I am. I need sleep and rest and dead ragweed.

5. I learned that my friend, Emily, who is hosting this ‘What I Learned’ series, is even more amazing than I thought she was. (And I thought she was pretty amazing!) She is such a gifted thinker and writer. I adore her and her new book, Million Little Ways, A: Uncover the Art You Were Made to Live on uncovering the art you were made to live. You need to preorder this book today. It’s a gem and will change the way you look at how you live your life. I read half of it in one sitting the other night and can’t wait to finish it this weekend. Thank you, Emily. You are a treasure.

6. I got my first Stitch Fix this month. Have you heard of it? It’s a personal styling service, where you sign up to receive five items in one shipment, based on your style, size and budget preferences. If you choose to keep any of the items, you pay for them, with no service or shipping fees. If you don’t keep any of the items, you pay a $20 styling fee. You can schedule one ‘fix’ per month or just randomly, as you need a few new pieces. I have to say that as someone who loves style and clothing, but lives in a small town with very limited shopping options, I LOVE the idea of this.

I received my first shipment this month and it was like Christmas morning! I only kept on piece, but I love it and I’m so excited for next month’s shipment. To sign up, you can use my referral code (oh, please do!) or just sign up on their website. With your shipment, they send these fashion cards, which give you ideas for how to wear and style your clothing. The brands they work with are fabulous and I would definitely recommend trying it. It’s as easy as answering a questionnaire on your style and sizing (the more specific you are, the better they can style for you) and then waiting for your first fix. When the box arrives, you have three days to try the clothing. Keep what you want and send the rest back in a prepaid package. For more info, visit their FAQ page. Click here to sign up!

Here’s what I got in my first fix: 3 blouses and 2 necklaces

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I only kept one blouse and I decided to go in and change my settings so that I don’t receive jewelry. I’d rather have more clothing to choose from and I didn’t love either of the necklaces. Overall, the process was so much fun and I can’t wait for my next shipment, coming this week. The blouse I kept was $40 and is high quality material and very stylish.

I loved the pattern of the zig zag blouse (number 1), but it was a high/low shirt (low in the back, higher in the front—like a shirt with a mullet) and I don’t love that cut on me, hair or shirt. The red knit top was just okay, but not something I would normally buy. The style card, in the right bottom of the collage, comes with each piece you receive. I’m a fan. I think you’d love it, too!

So, how was your September? What did you learn and are you so excited for fall?!

TGIF!!!!

Only Love

September 13, 2013 by Edie Wadsworth 33 Comments

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None of us escapes it. We are a bruised and broken people, in desperate need of a rescue. We are all plagued with sin, doubt, fear, greed, selfishness, addiction, evil, and most assuredly self-righteousness. We are harsh and unkind and lacking in mercy. Or we are weak, undisciplined, and lacking in courage. But we are all the same.

Fortunately for us, our Father knows it all. He is not surprised or angry or aloof.

He doesn’t seek revenge but only redemption.

He became one of us to know the depth of our struggle and He is right there in the dirty midst of it all.

He won’t leave. He won’t lose His nerve. He will never give up.

So, when your strength has left you and you can’t hold on……

Don’t worry. Love holds. Love never fails.

He, who is deeply acquainted with your grief, will bear the weight of it all, even this, and will never grow weary.

Trust in your Father, who works every circumstance for the homecoming and healing of His glorious children.

He will not rest until you are remade and restored.

He will persevere until the end, because of Love.

Only Love.

Forever Young {13 and 21}

September 10, 2013 by Edie Wadsworth 24 Comments

I was pregnant with her during my last year of residency, which means, she learned early to be a fighter. During the first year of her life, I adjusted to a new baby, a new marriage, a new job, and a new mortgage in a new town. I worked weekend nights as an ER doctor in a small town and stayed home with her during the week. I was able to nurse her until she was six months old, notwithstanding the four episodes of miserable mastitis, that tempted me to stop after 4 weeks.

She was always a spit fire. She cried for hours in the evenings and wouldn’t go to sleep unless I laid with her in her room every night. She rattled me and despite the fact that she was my third child, she pummeled my mothering self-esteem. I read books on parenting as fast as I could read them, but in the heat of her red-faced fits, nothing ever seemed to work.

But, oh was she charming.

She had gorgeous blond curly hair, which she twirled with one hand, while she drank her “chocolatey”, as she affectionately called her chocolate milk, in the other.

When she was four, we thought it might help her stubborn streak if we tried soccer.

During her first game, she stood in the middle of the field screaming bloody murder. The coach and I ran to her, hoping she that by the sound of her screams, she hadn’t ruptured internal organs, or some other such serious injury. When we asked her what was wrong, she said, “EVERYDODY’S JUST RUNNING SO FAST AND KICKING AND IT GETS ME MAD!”. Yes, my dear, that’s what they call soccer.

So, we took her to ballet and prayed she didn’t get kicked out.

Then, the years at home twisted both our hearts inside out. We fought and cried and stood our ground until we learned to give in and forgive and give our ground away.

Today, I couldn’t be more surprised and more proud of her tenderness. She’s quick to see her fault, quick to say I’m sorry, and always finding a reason to laugh. She LOVES babies and dogs and is so talented with her hands. She’s a dancer extraordinaire and has a creative streak a mile wide. All those years of stubborn heartache have come to this—to a thirteen year old who is full of grace.

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I can’t remember my life before her. She has always been my girl. I was 22 years old when she was born, a mere babe myself, and I toted her to biochemistry with me when she was a week old. She went through a lot of schooling with me and now we study her nursing together and I can’t fathom how the years roll on. She is the girl with my smile and my eyes and the oldest one, who bears the brunt of my hard fought learning. We have had our share of heartaches, her and I, but the depths of what we have forged together through tears and loss and joy and laughter, can never be plumbed.

Her voice and her smile melt my heart and she has a way of knowing and forgiving that are way beyond her years. She has an old soul and a generous streak and incredible eyes.

She is the funniest girl, and yet, wise and discerning.

I am so blessed to be her momma, to share in her story, to watch as she grows into a woman full of grace.

These two middle girls of mine are similar in so many ways—it’s only fitting that their birthdays are together.

I pray they always lean on each other and learn early that there’s nothing in this world like a sister.

And I pray they learn live always from a place gratitude, eager to serve and love and forgive.

Happy Birthday, girls. You make me look like I know what I’m doing, when we all know that I’m just fumbling around in the dark, hoping and praying for grace.

May you stay forever young.

I love you,

Momma