In The Middle

Have you ever been in the middle of something? That's a really dumb question, I know. Of COURSE, you've been in the middle of something. If you're breathing, you're in the middle.

I went to a "celebration of life" this past weekend for a woman I didn't know.
Susan.
Oh, how I wish I could have known her. She seemed to be the type of person you would want around when you're living your happiest moments... or your darkest ones. She breathed life. And she obviously lived it well.

I know and love, to my very core, her son and daughter-in-law. They are truly some of my most favorite people walking around on this planet. If they are anything like their mom (and they are), then I'm honestly convinced that they exude Mrs. Susan's essence. They can't help it. She lives on in them. And their kids. She left a legacy. It's who she was and what she was about.

At her celebration, a phrase stuck out to me. I can't remember who said it as there were many speakers and people who shared stories. Of course people are going to say sweet things and tell funny anecdotes and share lessons learned. It's what we're all supposed to do in moments and events such as this. We laugh. We cry. We remember. And we learn. And we glean. And we grow. And we're changed.

The phrase "in the middle" was used in a message by one of her friends. In The Middle.
As in, we are all given a birth day. And, we're all assigned a day to die.

But, what are we doing in the middle?

Right now, I'm in the middle of Mt. WashMore. And Mt. FoldMore. In an hour or so, I'll be in the middle of working on dinner. I'm in the middle of trying to finish up our school year. I'm in the middle of a teenage girl learning to drive. Of a prepubescent boy navigating through hormonal hell. Of his little brother, The Hulk, who is always hungry and on the very edge of HANGRY at any given moment. I'm in the middle of ACT scores and multiplication facts and cursive handwriting and foreign languages. I'm in the middle of trying to figure out how year 17 is sneaking up on my marriage. I'm in the middle of falling in love with my best friend over and over and over again. I'm in the middle of bills and stretching pennies out so far that they beg for mercy. I'm in the middle training a dog to SIT at the door and not BOLT out of it. I'm in the middle of raising my kids to be good, kind, respectful, loving, friendly, relationship driven, purpose finding, human beings. I'm in the middle of making healthier lifestyle choices. I'm in the middle of watching babies grow into toddlers who grow into preschoolers who grow into students who grow into learners who grow into thinkers.

I'm in the middle.
I'm still trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do with it.

It seems to me that everywhere I look, people have figured out how and where to spend their middle. We've all been given time and resources. We've all been given an assignment. We've all been given cheerleaders to help us to navigate through our years. We all have a purpose.
We all get a middle.

Where are you in yours? Do you have any advice? Questions? Goals?
Is there anything you know you HAVE to do? Is there anything that you WANT to do before the middle turns into the end? How do you know you're where you're supposed to be, doing what you're supposed to be doing?

The question of being "in the middle" was clearly answered by Mrs. Susan, and by those who knew her and were loved by her. Her middle was spent well. Her middle made a difference. Her middle gave way to new beginnings.

Through someone I've never met, I've been changed. I've been made better.

Here's to you, Mrs. Susan!

For living in the middle.

Quirks and All

Isn't it cool how looking back at where we came from or what we've been through motivates us to keep moving forward? Our past can be a cruel reminder of our shortcomings. Or, it can be a springboard to catapult us into our best and most amazing self.

I came across something I scribbled down last year. It was nothing spectacular really, just my thoughts at the end of a very long, emotional week. The thing is though, that it is so profound to me. It was then. Even more so now. Maybe it's because I'm another year older. Maybe it's because I'm getting more comfortable with myself - My quirkiness and brokeness and confidence and shortcomings and strengths and personality.
My Who I Am-ness.
My Me-ness.
My Bree-ness.

So, here it is. I remember this moment like it happened this morning. My husband is one of the most amazing, gentle, and patient humans I know. Our story is incredible and I'll tell you about it sometime, but for now, here is where I was at this exact time last year....

....I've had an incredibly emotional week. The events, some expected and some surprising, left me very reflective. I've been found wanting in areas of growth, but my cup runneth over as far as love is concerned.

My husband, Trey, has proven himself over and over and over again as the lover and keeper and resolute protector of my heart.
At one point, I was questioning where I "fit". I know I have a strong personality and with such a "gift" (that's what we'll call it), comes lots of opportunities to be misunderstood on some level. I usually need to be explained. In some instances, damage control needs to be done. In any event, it's usually my mouth that does the confusing, leaving my heart wide open to be blindsided.

Such was this instance that caused me to question why God made me with such a personality that can be misunderstood. I'm a bit of a "square peg" or whatever the saying is.
After reassuring me that I'm a gift, and after questioning him for the 100th time, Trey's most vulnerable, honest, and raw response was--

"You BELONG with me. You FIT with me. That's all that matters."

That came out of the mouth of my husband. My best friend. The ONE who knows me the best from the inside out. The one who chose me. The one who KEEPS choosing me. The one who fights for and with me. The one who sometimes misunderstands me, but seeks to find understanding, not just for his sake, but mine.
His heart knows mine.
And I know his.

And we understand each other.

And I love how my hand and heart fit beautifully, comfortably, safely inside his.

There's no one else I'd rather fit with....

....There is still no other person that understands me more intimately than this man. He knows me and gets me. On so many deep levels.

I'm getting comfortable with myself now.
I'm ok with who I am becoming and sometimes more surprisingly, I'm ok with who I'm not becoming.
I'm thankful that I'm allowed to be me. God allows me to be who I am. So much so, that he put me with a man who is comfortable with and celebrates all of me. I'm loved. Not just by a man who "gets" me, but by a God who designed me. He doesn't make mistakes, not even accidental, quirky ones!

If I've learned anything this year, it's that it is ok to embrace the quirky. And just be who I was designed to be.
I don't think anyone else could handle it.

And nobody else could handle being you, so you do it.

Quirks and all!
                                           
                              

                                                               

So It Begins

I turned 39 today. That's weird. It just is. People are supposed to be wise and have it all together by now, right? One more year to 40. That's when we're REALLY supposed to be grown up and mature. I've only got a year to get my act together. God has a neat project in store for Himself. And me.

Cool stuff usually happens on my birthday. Kind of like a universal, cosmic gift happens almost every single year. No joke. Last year was one of my favorite gifts. We were able to help get a sweet friend and her kids out of a pretty nasty situation. We spent the morning of my birthday moving her, the kids, their cat, and the bunny to safety. That night a surprise party was planned, and totally executed, without any hiccups by my sneaky, sneaky husband. One of THE BEST and most emotional and exhausting birthdays ever! I wouldn't have it any other way.

This year, however, has been bittersweet. Last week, there were two deaths.
Cancer.
Both of them.

I don't know why I get to have another birthday. My friend was just a few days away from hers when she had to leave behind her baby and husband. One of our best friends "lost" his mom less than two weeks after being diagnosed with stage 4 killer beast whatever. She's not 'lost' though. We know exactly where she is. And I'm willing to bet, that she is exactly where she's always wanted to be.
 
So, I'm at this weird, in between age, of losing friends and losing parents. It's surreal.
 
Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly grateful to wake up to another year. I have been married to, who I KNOW is one of God's most patient, humble, kind, brilliant and passionate creatures. He's My Favorite. He makes every day and every night worth waking up and going to sleep. My kids are our greatest and most humbling, awe inspiring, insanity and thought provoking creations. They are part of our Crazy. It's a good thing we do Crazy right! I love it and only think "What the heck was I thinking when I signed up for this?" maybe once or twice a day now.  It's progress. A WIN, for sure.

What do I do with my 39th year though? I haven't really done anything spectacular as far as breathtaking experiences or exploring the world goes. Although, my husband is in missions. He could tell you some jaw dropping stories. Ask him sometime. Mind. Blowing. I'm pretty awesome at doing laundry and feeding my kids. I'm also a kick butt friend. I'm good at the little stuff. I suppose it's the little stuff that adds up. I'll just keep doing more of that. I like doing it. My 39th year will be more of me being me and doing what I'm doing.

Oh, and this blog.

Because when I asked my Creator what He had in store for me this year and what was He planning for my birthday, He told me "You're going to write the blog you've been talking about doing for YEARS. No more talking about it. No more making excuses as to why you can't do it. No more waiting to be ready or qualified or having something to say. You're going to DO it. Year 39 is a year of DOING while BEING. Stop being a little girl and put your big girl panties on and DO it."

Well played, God. Well played. And Yes Sir, I'm on it.

So it begins. Happy Birthday to me!