One Word Three Ways

3203975035_28b1119bbb_qPlanning is not something I enjoy. I do it because life pretty much requires it to some degree, but I pretty much just go through my days and take them as they come. And I pray my family survives it all. Sure, I schedule things and have a routine. I plan my meals out a week at a time. (And when I remember to take the meat out of the freezer that plan works better). I plan events and hope for the best. But life in general? I’m pretty spontaneous. I do weekends based on my mood. I do just about anything based on my mood. Maybe that’s the preschooler living inside my head.

I turn 40 this year. I’m getting pretty darn close to the halfway point of this earthly life of mine. My children also are not getting any younger. My oldest starts high school this year! (Eek!) So, I’ve really been thinking that I don’t want my days to just slip away and leave me holding her cap and gown in 4 years wondering where they went. Anxiety has begun to creep in.

Then I read somewhere on my favorite news outlet, Facebook, about claiming one word for the new year. Instead of a resolution that, let’s face it, will never be resolved, people are claiming a one word theme for the new year to transform their lives. One word? That doesn’t seem too overwhelming. Doesn’t sound like I will have to do much planning around that. I like it! Sign me up!

However, I feel like the word churning around in my brain is just a fancy word for planning. What do you think?


That’s the word I can’t put down. Not love (my personal favorite and would be so easy). Not shopping (a close second), or writing, or rest. Nothing that sounds all that fun to work through. Intentional. It’s so broad and narrows things down perfectly at the same time.

Intentional with how I share my love.

Love is a decision we make, after all. There are too many people in this world to truly be able to love them and love them well. I tend to think it’s my resposibility to love ALL my neighbors as myself. But that is humanly impossible. And that is pretty much what I am. Impossibly human. So, I need to be intentional with the love I share. God has intentionally placed certain people in my life. My response should be to intentionally love them. This should begin with my husband and children and echo out to my closest family and friends. Intentionally loving those closest to me will allow more energy to love those neighbors too. However, I am still at a bit of a loss as to how I will accomplish this. Does it look like time? Acts of service? I’ll be working on this and get back to you. It is just the first week of the new year after all!

Intentional with my money.

I shared a couple of posts ago in Why I’m Sitting In God’s Time-Out Chair that I kinda got a little too relaxed with my family’s resources. I was selfish for several months and didn’t tithe and used the money for worthless things. I truly believe the lack of financial peace I experienced during those months was due to being disciplined. So this year I will be intentional with my family budget and our tithe. That is all. I expect God to handle the rest!

Intentional with my blog.

I am still not sure where this will go, but I feel God is telling me to rev up for a wild year in 2016 when it comes to this blog. I feel he is asking me to spend more time writing and being intentional with what I share with you. I am not guaranteeing that things will always make sense around here. But often what God asks us to do doesn’t make sense at all.


Tell me what you think! What is one word you could use to make 2016 better than ever?

How can I be intentional with loving my loved ones? How do you do it?

Have intenional money ideas?

What would you like to see at TrueBEDtimestories this year?

Let me know by leaving a comment below!

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Milking Summer For All It’s Worth


We were out of milk. Again. My children must think I have a cow living in our backyard because they guzzle the stuff faster than our imaginary cow can produce it. So I headed to the store. Again. But this time I welcomed the trip because it was homework time and my girls turn into creatures that I am sure never lived inside my womb for 9 months when it’s time to do homework. I can’t blame them. I hate doing it too. Hence the reason I was blissfully running out the door for a milk emergency. No one has to know that I take the long way to the store and back. A trip that is normally a straight shot and less than a mile from my house often turns into 5 miles of peace and quiet circling the neighborhood. Who am I kidding? I crank up the music and get lost in the lyrics every time. It’s never quiet! At least it’s my noise and not whatever is being fabricated from the people who live with me.  God love ’em.

So I head to the dairy section while humming the latest tune crammed in my head and oblivious to the assault about the take place on my emotions. I reached for the gallon of milk so perfectly placed on the shelf. Now, I don’t know about you, but I always make sure I am reaching for the most fresh gallon available. I’m not all about organic or hormone free. I just need something to put on my cereal, but I want it to be fresh. There I was scanning the sell-by dates stamped on the carton and I didn’t even see it coming. I didn’t even have time to duck.

September 3rd? September?? Y’all, that’s not ok. There is no reason why Summer should be pushed out by a gallon of milk! I panicked, unsure of what to do next. Should I put the Fall milk into my basket and accept the fact that Summer is dying and there is nothing I can do about it, or do I look for another container wearing an August date like a badge of honor? I weighed those options while pretending that the up-hevel I was experiencing in my mind wasn’t actually happening. I scanned the shelves desperate for any indication that Summer was going to last forever this year, but my efforts returned to me in vain. I picked up my Fall milk and placed it in my basket with a heavy heart for all that I was losing.


Long hot days. Lazy breezes. The rhythm of the cicadas. Catching lightning bugs. Popsicles. Bare feet. Dinner’s on the patio.

My list is endless. Which is not something I can say for poor sweet Summer. I will miss her.

I do try to find the good in every situation, but it isn’t always easy. This time I didn’t have to look far though. September 3rd is only 2 days away from the Crimson Tide’s kick-off for the 2015 season. So, if I must bid farewell to my favorite season at least I can do it with a ROLL TIDE!

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