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Yesterday, I got to thinking about something that, contrary to natural expectation, filled me with such an amount of joy that I was pumping my fist in the air as I ran down a country road. I felt almost like I was flying off the ground.

God has been doing a tremendous amount in my life lately. I don't even know how to explain it. It's like he's broken in, finally, and I'm loving him and enjoying life in him and being filled to the point of bursting by the Holy Spirit. I've had more joy, more closeness to God, more wonder, more breakthrough, more healing, more realization of truth than I think I have ever, ever had in my life before. And all of it came about as a result of the most horrific breakup I could possibly have imagined.

I don't even know how to explain it. The only thing that comes closest to describing it is that magnificent verse in Romans 8, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."

That's the only thing that can describe it. God took what was possibly the worst thing that could ever have happened to me, humanly speaking, and somehow has turned it into the absolute best thing that could ever have possibly happened to me, divinely speaking.

I was utterly devastated by the breakup. It wasn't simply a breakup but a betrayal of the highest order. I felt like a nuclear bomb had gone off in my insides, leaving everything flattened, decimated, and destroyed. I felt that renewal would never come. I remember thinking as I lay on my friend's couch, in the darkness of her apartment, "I will never be the same again. This will change me forever."

And it has. But not in the way that I expected. In the manner of a volcano spilling lava and ash all over a landscape, and leaving it in the interim devastated but ultimately enriching the soil so that life forms grow and thrive there that never would have before, God has brought more good out of this incident than I would ever have dreamed possible.

Two days after the ultimate ending, when in hatred he spoke the words that broke off even the possibility of a friendship forever, I went for a walk. I didn't intend to speak with God. I was angry as I could possibly be, I felt hopeless, and I was certain that nothing I did, no matter what it was, would change the situation. Certainly talking to God wouldn't. He was the one who'd put me in this mess, and he wasn't about to get me out of it. I was as desperate as I'd ever been. I was convinced this was the end.

But God met with me. I can't even explain it. In an intangible yet utterly tangible way, in an indescribable, un-understandable, thoroughly mysterious way, such that I didn't even know what was going on but knew only that it was God, he met with me. I felt his presence. I was healed. I walked away having forgiven. I walked away understanding. I walked away able to love the person who'd hurt me the most.

And more than that, I walked away with God.

I have "known God" for a long time. I knew I was a Christian. I knew I was God's child. I knew even, in a distant sort of way, that he loved me. Yet life's disappointments had shut me up to him. I was enclosed within walls and fortresses, and his loving presence was not allowed inside to touch me and to heal. I was too afraid. I'd been betrayed too often. I had too thick a shell, too stubborn a will, to ever yield. Even to love.

As years went by, I despaired. I had prophecies and words spoken of God's love for me, of the purpose he had for my life. I believed somehow that it was true, but if so, why didn't it come to pass? Why did I go to church week after week and remain unchanged? Why did I harden my heart in the message or against prophecies that I knew were spoken directly to me, persuading me to yield? Why did I go weeks, months, years without reading my Bible, without praying, without talking to God except in angry, hopeless desperation? Why did I cry when I was alone, asking him with all my heart to let me die? When was his promise going to happen?

And this. It seemed like the ultimate betrayal, the ultimate trick played on me by a God who was determined to make me suffer. My life had been one long record of suffering, and this one thing, the thing that finally seemed like some good, had turned bitter and sour. It was as if you'd bitten into the sweetest chocolate and found it ridden with the most deadly poison.

But it wasn't. The poison gave way to the healing medicine of God's touch. I had no choice, in that circumstance, but to turn to God. He was literally all I had left. Finally, he got me to the point where even my supremely stubborn will and hardened heart had to give way. I had no other choice. It would have eaten me alive.

And my heart has been set free. I surrendered to God, finally. Laid everything down. Gave myself to him heart and soul. Gave up. Gave in. Allowed him to do what he'd been longing to do for all those years: take me over. And it has been the sweetest thing that I have ever experienced, and my heart is free. I have known his touch, his presence, his voice, and his love in ways that I have never known them in my life before in these last few weeks. I have a renewed thirst and hunger for him, seeking him in prayer, reading his word. I have discovered him to be sweeter than anything on this earth. And I want more.

And not just that. It's spilled over to other people. Last night I had dinner with a co-worker and he bared his heart to me about his recent divorce and how he'd been seeking God. Today, he was in church. His heart was touched and tears spilled down his cheeks as he received prayer. He gave me a hug and thanked me for inviting him. I know he'll be back. And all of that is because, if God hadn't done what he's done in my life, I couldn't have reached out to another.

The preacher in church today told us that our mission is to bless everybody around us. Everybody in our city, everybody in our region. And for that, we need to be filled with the Holy Spirit. And I can testify to the truth of that.

I'm loving God. I'm loving other people. For the first time in my life, I'm loving myself. And I'm free. I'm totally free. The thought that made me pump my fist in the air as I was running, was that absolutely nothing in my life has been permanent. I have shifted around so much, moved so much, changed jobs so much, lost relationships, been hurt by other people—all to teach me the glorious truth that made me so happy: all I need is God. He is enough for me. Nothing on this earth lasts, nothing is reliable, but he is faithful. He is permanent. He will never leave me or forsake me. And his love is the greatest thing I can possibly possess.

I used to never understand the end of Romans 8. It says:

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:
'For your sake we face death all day long;
we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.' No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Rom. 8:35-39)

For a long time I judged God's love in my life by my circumstances. If I was suffering, surely God did not love me. Now, for the first time, I understand these words. God's love is greater. God's love is greater than my circumstances. It triumphs over any earthly reality, even persecution, suffering, and death. If I have that, I can actually go through anything. It's real. It's great. And it's believable. He is all that I want.

I'm loving this. And for the first time, I make no apologies about being so blatantly "Christian" on my blog. I want everyone else to know this, too. Because if God's done it for me, who was so bitter, so hurting, and so closed against him for so long, he can do it for anyone.

Even you.

Rejection must be one of the most wounding experiences any human being can suffer. To be cast out by another human being, scorned, insulted, the possibility of a relationship spurned because somehow you are not good enough surely has to be the most painful emotion.

Rejection has a twin cousin, betrayal. Betrayal is the highest form of rejection: with the insidious twist that someone close to you, someone intimate with you, someone whom you believed loved you and cared for you, turns on you in hatred or abuse. The highest example is probably the spouse who cheats. It's worse than simple rejection because it carries with it the force of shock: I can't believe you're doing this to me, I thought you loved me, how could you treat me this way. It's a killer, emotionally and sometimes, literally.

All of us have experienced rejection in one form or another. Maybe it was on the playground, when we weren't chosen for the team. Or when the "cool" group at school wouldn't let us hang with them. Maybe our parents hated us or never thought we were good enough. My first conscious experience of rejection came as an eight-year-old at summer camp. A homeschooled oddity from a distinctly weird family, living in my own world because I had no group of peers to shape me, I was hated and ridiculed by the other girls. The entire week was an experience of rejection that left me wary of peer groups for years to come.

Later on, as a shy, awkward, depressed teenager, I felt rejected by those my own age whom I considered "cool". Painfully introverted and fearful, living in a small town where I didn't go to school, I had little opportunity to make friends. Boys were distinctly intimidating, though I'd hung out with them and played sports with them throughout most of my pre- and early-teen years. I felt ugly and unwanted, without the confidence to befriend others, though I longed for closeness.

But probably the deepest and ugliest form of rejection came from my father. A harsh, controlling and abusive man, he made me believe that I was worthless, never good enough to merit his approval, much less his love. He was distant and uninvolved part of the time, violently and irrationally angry the rest. I hated and feared him and at an age when I desperately longed for my father's love, his treatment closed my heart against him.

After I left home, for years this was put behind me. I was fortunate enough to fall in with Christians, go to a Christian college, be embraced by a warm and loving church (another story). But still I fenced my heart off from close involvement. I had few or no close friends to whom I divulged what was really going on inside me. The only person I trusted was the man who became my surrogate father, offering me the warmth and acceptance I'd always craved from my biological dad. I never allowed boys my own age to come too close. Although I had plenty of male friendships, whenever one showed signs of developing into something more, I put up the "No entry" signs so quickly that none of them had a chance. I was determined to protect myself, to keep my heart to myself so that I'd never hurt again. Close relationships, trust, meant pain, and I didn't want it.

But this summer, somehow, one of those boys managed to crash through those barriers. Do you believe in love at first sight? I felt a deep and instant connection to him, and somehow he slipped through. His confidence and attractiveness, coupled with reassurance that he loved me and wouldn't hurt me, intrigued my scarred and wounded heart enough to make me believe that maybe this was a chance. It's not that I didn't try to rebel against it; I did my best to push him away. But he persisted, and I believed him. More fool me? Maybe. But it was what in my heart of hearts I wanted, despite my resistance.

I know now it was meant to be. It was part of a greater purpose wielded by somebody far more powerful and more loving than that boy. He wanted to win my heart even more than that guy did, and was willing to do exactly what he had to do to accomplish it.

The relationship ended with the shock of betrayal. Hurt and astonished by something he did, and his refusal to apologize when confronted by it, I felt that I had no choice but to end it. I cried for days. Despite my certainty that I'd done the right thing, I called him a few days later to talk. I wanted to patch things up, I wanted to sort them out, I wanted to discuss getting back together. He didn't, didn't want to talk, finally became harsh and abusive and in one painful confrontation said words that still sting, told me he didn't even want to be friends and he never wanted to talk to me again.

I've written about it in earlier posts, but it had the effect of a verbal nuclear bomb. I don't give my heart easily, but when I do, I give it all, and despite the fact that I knew that we shouldn't be together, I still loved and cared for him. I'd hoped that if we couldn't be together as a couple, we could at least be friends. When somebody rejects that completely, and goes from vowing love to you to protesting hatred, cutting off the possibility of any kind of relationship, it's a vitriolic shock.

That episode got me to thinking. A lot. And ultimately it was used for a lot of good. But what it made me realize, which hit home with almost an equal force of shock as the event, was this:

Betrayal is probably the most painful of human emotions. But Jesus experienced it. One of his disciples, Judas, a man who'd followed and lived with him and served him and sat at his feet and apparently loved him, betrayed him. To death. Not only that, Peter, one of his closest friends and a member of the "inner three" of disciples, denied even knowing him in his final hour. Imagine being betrayed by a friend, given up to death, undergoing trial and torture, and yet another friend, one of your closest, denies acquaintance. Then Jesus went through the deepest darkness of rejection by his own Father as he carried the sins of the world. It must have been like acid thrown over his soul.

I realized that Jesus had shared in betrayal, and understood it, but not only that: I also realized that that is what I had done to him.

We're not used to thinking of God with emotions. We're not used to thinking of him as a person, who thinks and feels as we do. Much less are we used to thinking of our treatment of him as capable of affecting his emotions. Yet in the aftermath of my boyfriend's rejection, I understood: I had done the exact same thing to God.

I loved my boyfriend. I longed for relationship with him. I longed to patch up the problems, I longed to be close to him, I longed to make things right, and if we couldn't be together, at least to be friends. I genuinely wanted his welfare and hoped I could somehow be involved in his life.

But he wanted none of it. In fact, he ended up by hating me and pushing me out of his life altogether. He rejected even the possibility of a cordial relationship, wounding me deeply. None of my outreaches to him affected or changed his mind.

And I had done that to God. Finally, I understood.

God loved me. God longed for relationship with me. God kept on reaching out to me, showing me through people and circumstance his love for me. I knew he wanted to be close to me. I knew he wanted my surrender. I knew he wanted access to my heart. He wanted to befriend me, to know me intimately, for me to love him back and to long for his presence.

And I refused.

I shut God out. I did it consciously and willfully. I knew he was trying to break in and I kept him out. Due to past hurt, I didn't want to yield to protect myself. I hardened my heart and refused to give in to his advances. I hated him, accused him of ruining my life and deliberately hurting me, and I told him to "F--- off" more than once. I knew he was real, but I didn't want him.

After going through the same thing with my boyfriend, I finally understood. I understood the pain God must have felt as he reached out to me again and again and again and watched me slap his hand away every time.

I knew. And I never wanted to do it again.

He had loved me all along. Same as I loved that boy. He cared, and he never gave up.

I'm more thankful than I can ever be able to say. And he won, in the end.

Hi to all my dear family and friends,
Today I have three special people that I want to THANK.

Cindy from "OLD TIME FARMHOUSE" BLOG surprised me by choosing my name to win her vintage apron Giveaway.
I love aprons...and, especially, gingham ones!

Paula from "SUGAR SWEET AND PINK" BLOG created and lovingly stitched such sweet gifts for me. I'd like to share a few of them with you.
I love each one!

Mark...my hubby
Thank you, Honey, for the cute as pie polka dot tea pot
and the matching polka dot plates.
You know just what I like.
You are such a sweetheart 

Polka Dots...
Whiskers on Kittens...
My favorite color...Red
These are a few of my favorite things!



Paula, My darling adopted daughter created this adorable kitty cat.
She designed the pattern and the hand stitched touches.
Paula added the crowning touch...the tiny blue and white creamer and saucer.
I adore it, Paula!

You guessed it...
A few more of my favorite things!
Gifts from my hubby...

More RED...
and
More pretty Polka Dots!

"My Little RED shoe Pincushion"
It sits proudly in my sewing room.

"Raggedy Ann"
Do you see the light blue gingham apron draped over the chair back?
Can you guess WHO gave it to me?

Heart Shaped Pockets...
Oh...How cute, Cindy!
I love your darling giveaway!

Cindy sent me this sweet vintage apron.
I don't have the heart or wear it and get it dirty...
I think it will hang proudly in my kitchen.

My RED vintage kitchen chair
with country tole painting.
I found this at a Craft Faire in Tennessee.
It has been used as a high chair for little visitors
and has sat in my kitchen for many years.

Sweet Paula gave me this beautiful vintage linen table cloth.
I love the fine stitching and RED crocheted edging.
Thank you, dear.

Gifts from my sweet Paula
Play Pals...
Patti, Penny & Kitty

"When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you.

If your heart is in your dream
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do.

Fate is kind
She brings to those to love
The sweet fulfillment of
Their secret longing.

Like a bolt out of the blue
Fate steps in and sees you through
Your dreams come true."

(Disney Theme Song)

Special thanks to:
Paula at www.sugarsweetandpink.blogspot.com
and
Cindy at www.oldtimefarmouse.blogspot.com

Each week I love joining in my favorite blog parties. I'm linking with:
Boogie Board Cottage
www.boogieboardcottage.blogspot.com
Mockingbird Hill Cottage
www.mockingbirdhillcottage.com
Sunny Simple Life
www.sunnysimplelife.blogspot.com
The Dedicate House
www.thededicatedhouse.blogspot.com
The Little Red House
www.dearlittleredhouse.blogspot.com
Etsy Cottage Style
www.etsycottagestyle.blogspot.com
Cozy Little House
www.cozylittlehouse.com
Knick Of Time
www.knickoftimeinteriors.blogspot.com
Lavender Cottage Dreams
www.lavendergardencottage.blogspot.com
Have A Daily Cup of Mrs Olson
www.jannolson.blogspot.com
My Rose Chintz
www.sandimyyellowdoor.blogspot.com
Common Ground
www.debrasvintagedesigns.blogspot.com
Farmgirl Friday Blog Hop
www.deborahjeansdandelionhouse.blogspot.com
I Gotta Create
www.igottacreate.blogspot.com
Rooted In Thyme
www.rootedinthyme.blogspot.com
The Charm of Home
www.thecharmofhome.blogspot.com
Meet and Greet Blog Hop by Laurie
www.createdbylaurie.blogspot.com
Show-Licious Saturday's
www.sew-licious.blogspot.com

In the interests of maintaining this blog, which I very much desire to do, I'm posting mostly to say that I'm still here. I apologize to those who read it regularly, few as they may be, for my long silence.

This weekend held another out-of-state trip. I moved again two days before that. This is my third week out of work, and only now am I starting to feel settled enough to really begin looking.

And, the relationship. It's still consuming much of my time and energy. As with any relationship, there are times of incredible joy. There have been a few moments where we couldn't stand the sight of each other. We're learning and growing and understanding one other better. We are deepening our trust and dependence on God to be at the centre of this relationship and of our hearts, because without him we're nothing. Only with him can this work, and it cannot be for the relationship's sake, but for his and our sake.

Some of the barriers around my heart toward God are coming down. It's a good thing, and I'm very happy that this catalyst has come along to cause that to happen, to make me realize how radically dependent I am on him and how desperately I cannot guard my heart against him any longer. I believe God has purposely begun an invasion, humanly spearheaded by this guy, into my heart. It's sneaky, but it has worked.

So. Again. I'm sorry to have no entertaining story, no deep thoughts, that yet again a blog post is consisting of nothing but my life. But there it is, that's it, and I hope that I'll be able to write again soon. Love to all those who are still reading...

Oh, how I LOVE APRONS! They treat my heart to so many wonderful memories like...My precious Gramma Peggie, her warm, sweet smelling kitchen, her strong faith in God, her loving heart, and her melodious laughter...Times past that are dear to my heart!

SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR SHIRLEY...OF "Zetta's Apron"

This week I have been stitching up something special for the very first person who left a comment on my new blog. Her name is Shirley from "Zetta's Apron" blog. In a loving tribute Shirley has dedicated her blog to her Grandma Zetta's memory. I was so touched by this that I thought it would be most appropriate to make an apron in honor of her Grandmother. Shirley loves the color RED (like me) and she has a penchant for polka dots. My dear Shirley...I hope you enjoy wearing your red, white and polka dot apron in good health!

***AN APRON ISN'T AN APRON WITHOUT A POCKET***

***ALL TIED UP WITH A PRETTY BOW***AND A CUSTOM "Chenille Cottage" LABEL***

BLESSINGS, SHIRLEY...I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR NEW APRON!
LOVINGLY,
CAROLYNN xoxo

I have fallen in love with my landlady's cat, something I not only intended not to do but actively avoided.

He's a sleek, slick, deep orange tabby, with base fur a tawny ginger and darker, burnt-orange stripes. His eyes are a startling warm, intense golden, almost orange, and when he looks at you, it's with adoration.

I hardened my heart against loving him because ever since Mugsy, the Best Cat in the World, died earlier this year, I'd pretty much decided I'd never let my heart get wrapped around another cat again. With their tiny short lifespans and predisposition to early death, it's simply too heartbreaking. Although I'd longed for a cat of my own for years, I finally resolved I'd never get one. Too much trouble, too much sad.

Then my landlady brought James home.

A few weeks earlier her elderly tortoishell female was put down due to weakening health. Although she was a nice enough cat, she was shy and firmly attached to her owner, and we'd never particularly connected. I urged my landlady to get another cat as soon as possible, and she was determined to do so when the grief had worn its edge off. Finally one day I came home, and there was James.

He was five months old, skinny and bright-eyed, and wary as all-get-out. He hopped away from me as I tried to woo him closer, and stared out of enormous eyes. When I finally coaxed him to allow me to pet him, he was friendly and purry, and submitted to being flopped upside down on my lap. As I rubbed his stomach, he purred ecstatically and wrapped his paws around my hand. I was astonished and amused: most kittens would have been spurred to violent kicking. He was all love.

Although he was very nice, I steeled myself against any emotional attachment. Not only would I be moving out, I didn't want the heartbreak of loving and losing another cat. We played on the rare occasions when I was home, I dragging long shoelaces across floor and furniture and he jumping and pouncing. We played chase games: I'd creep intimidatingly up on him as he stared out of wide eyes and finally ran. When I came home at night, he'd run to greet me. My landlady told me that as soon as he heard my car in the driveway, he was off like a shot. When I got up in the morning, he'd be there, purring enthusiastically and begging for a snuggle. If one was not forthcoming, he'd lick my toes.

He's a bit of a terror, rampaging throughout the house at night. Yesterday morning I found a mutilated paper towel roll on the floor, half of it unwound and all of it decorated with little claw punctures. He'd made sure that it was well and truly Dead before giving up on it.

So despite my limited time at home, I'm already loving him. And I'm sad at the thought of leaving him in a couple of weeks when I move out. Despite my resolution, his warmth and brightness and unreserved, unsolicited love have stolen their way into my heart. Little bastard.

Blessings and Thanks from the bottom of my heart...for all your prayers!

Our little grandson made his long overdue debut.
Mommy and Baby are doing well after a difficult labor and delivery.

Precious moments with my grandson in the NICU
"Chandler Kimo Timothy"
9 lbs. 11 ounces
(Yes...that funny old lady is me!)

PRICELESS!
Daddy and Chandler while Mommy was in surgery.

FINALLY TOGETHER...
My sweet son, Tim...My darling DIL, Kelita
and
Baby Chandler
When Chandler was born he was not breathing and he had ingested a large amount of meconium. He was intubated and spent time in the NICU. Meanwhile, Mommy Kelita was rushed to emergency surgery. After many hours apart Daddy, Mommy and baby were united.
God was faithful and we felt His presence even in the darkest moments.

Eight Days Old
Mommy and Baby

Kissable Little Feet

"For you formed my inward parts,
You knitted me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
My soul knows it very well."
Psalm 139:13-14
I can't begin to thank you enough for all your prayers, friendship, encouragement and loving words!
Blessings from the bottom of my heart!

Grammy Carolynn
xoxo

Upon returning home I succumbed to the flu. I am working on trying to get well and look forward to posting when my strength returns. Many of you might not know that I have Multiple Sclerosis. It takes me a bit longer to return to full steam. Hugs to each one of you! I have missed you! xoxo

I'm linking to my favorite blog parties and giveaways this coming week.
I invite you to visit my sidebar and link up with each one.
I know they would love having you as their guest...

There are a lot of reasons people can hate on country music. I am aware of this and I totally get it. But I am still a major fan. I am a fan of old school country but the new cheesy stuff too. I am not afraid to admit this. You can make fun of me alllll you want! I will sing it out loud in the car, by myself so I don't offend others, of course. And I will dance front row, center, if at a concert. I live for the CMA's which were on last night. Now it seems like the CMA's are on like three times a year which is fine by me! I realize I have probably lost all non-country fans by now and if so, I'm sorry but for those of you that are still with me...how great were they??? Holy moly! Zack Brown singing Georgia On My Mind with Gregg Allman! Yowza.

My boyfriend, Blake Shelton won Male Vocalist of the Year. I heart him. I mean really, really heart him. The perfect blend of funny, confident and self-deprecating.

Then his wife had to go and win Female Vocalist of the Year and talk about their big night together...(sigh).

Moving on...

So since I am becoming about as swift with the segues as Carrie Bradshaw is with the puns, I am going to now talk about Modern Country in design terms. I am so hot on mixing country elements in with modern decor! I would really like to call it "Nouveau Redneck" but I don't think it would go over so well. Here are some examples.

What do you think? Are you "Nouveau Reneck"?

Oh my goodness it has been a while! Well...so the holidays came and yada, yada. Then I went to Atlanta for market. Saw lots of pretty things...

While at market we went to hear Emily Henderson speak. My friend and I were such dorks...we were the first ones there! lol But Emily sat down with us and said "Please make friends with me because if we are friends I won't be as nervous!" So we did. She is ADORABLE!!! I mean really, really ADORABLE! Now what isn't adorable is this pic of me but what can you do...

That's my friend Lauren on the left.

Emily told us to call her while we are in L.A. and she would take us to all the thrift shops she knows of out there. I don't think she realizes that we really will call her! And maybe sleep on her couch.

While in The ATL I went to Scotts (for those of you not familiar it is a huge flea market that is open the second weekend of every month). The outside is my favorite part because it has the best deals. Well unfortunately it was like 30 degrees while I was there and I wasn't dressed for it so I (literally) put on all the clothes I packed. Remember that episode of Friends where Joey puts on all of Chandler's clothes? That is what I looked like. Here are some things I saw (many of which came home with me!)

Funny story on this bowl...my friend and I both go "Woah, I've never seen anything like this!" (because it was in a booth full of hand-made stuff). Then looked up to see four more just like it. We died laughing. Yep, one-of-a-kind!

And I want you to meet my new friend, Bob. Bob is awesomness defined. He is witty and helpful and has this adorable wife Dorothy...I heart both of them.

Bob even stayed an hour late to help Lauren and I pack up our cars! See...

I told him there was no way he could do it and I think he just wanted to prove me wrong!

While at Scotts, I also found out my bank has a daily limit on ATM withdrawls. Who knew? Guess it is a protection feature in case someone stole my card and since I was in a different state maybe the bank was suspicious. No, it was just me overspending.

So what else have I been up to? Oh yeah, just being the chairperson for a black-tie event for 300 people. No big deal. I have plenty of spare time! It was this past weekend and I am beyond ecstatic that it is OVER! But was SOOO much fun! And we raised a lot of money for local breast cancer patients (the charity is SOS) which is the important thing but it was my swan song. I will post pics when I get the CD from the photographer but here is one to make you giggle...the name of the event is Black&White (started because the statistics of breast cancer are black and white) but we had the band Yacht Rock and the event was at a venue on the Harbor and we also did a nautical theme sooo I had a backdrop printed for a photographer to take photos like you were standing on the boat and had a bunch of silly props. Everyone got really into it which totally made my night! People were doing the "King of the World" from Titanic, and pretending to jump, puke (and pee) off the edge...it was hysterical!

Photos by Mahmood Fazal
This is me and my great friend, Mason, who helped me plan the event. I could not have done it without her! I heart her more than words (cue the song).

And until I have more pics here is a feature that Charleston Magazine did on the event.

And I've had lots of client work going on which I will update you on later as I'm excited about the progress on all these projects!!!

And I have been busy working on another BIG thing that I can't quite tell you about just yet but I will very soon so stay tuned my friends!

Maybe now you understand why I've been MIA! But I hope to be back in some sort of regular posting routine. I've missed you so! xoxo

I blame Cute Overload. On Saturday, I got a rabbit.

My life, for the past seven years, has been all about minimalism. I've spent it assiduously paring possessions down to bare necessities and eliminating excess. This is due mainly to transitoriness, moving often with limited space in each location. Unnecessary items weigh you down, that much more cargo to pack and haul and find room for.

Pets do not fit into this picture. The exception has been two goldfish, neatly contained and low-maintenance enough to sustain. Granted, they rank rather low on the interactivity scale, but you can't have everything.

I dream of owning a cat someday. Beyond this, I have had to resist pet ownership completely as an unfair and impractical addendum to my mobile and fund-restricted lifestyle.

But somehow, when I saw the "Offer: bunny" posting on Freecycle, my heart was caught.

Knowing I really shouldn't, I emailed to inquire. The rabbit was a black male mini Rex, a year old. The owner was moving and couldn't take him. He needed to find a home immediately, or he would go into a shelter. I was the only one who'd shown any interest.

After a considerable amount of internal debate over the next several days, I agreed.

Almost immediately I had the sinking feeling that I had perhaps made an unwise move. Reassuring myself that I could at least provide him a temporary shelter and re-home him later, I took the necessary step of asking my landlady's permission and made an appointment to pick him up.

We met at a gas station by the highway. A battered black pickup truck containing a young couple pulled up, and by the way they grinned as I approached I knew it must be the rabbit people. A few moments' brief and nearly wordless exchange, and I drove away the owner of a small wire cage containing a rather frightened midnight-black rabbit.

During the short ride home, all I heard of him was occasional hops and the rattling of the ball in his drinking bottle. Once I got home and had carried him inside, I lifted him out to have a look.

He was perfect. His fur, impossibly silky and soft in the manner of all Rexes, felt like heaven-spun velveteen. Tiny, dainty paws ended in small curved claws. His anatomy was all perfect ovals and rounds, making him look incongruously like one of those drawing lessons where everything starts out as a shape. His eyes, a deep, shiny black, reflected the amusing combination of incomprehensibility and fear that all rabbits seem to emanate.

And he was mine.

So James Dean and I (for that's now his name) have spent the last couple of days getting acquainted. He loves to hop about the room sniffing everything, occasionally doing a sudden leap and heel-kick or a surprisingly loud thump of warning. He swiftly and mightily resists being caught, turning into rubber and kicking on the jet-thrusters when a hand approaches. He goes soft and quiet when picked up, though the push of his head into the space between my arm and my body reveals his insecurity. When he tires, he stretches out on the floor next to his cage and rests.

And it feels good to have him there. Despite my trepidation about acquiring an animal, he's added a dimension of life and companionship to my normally sterile and solitary existence. He's something to care about and care for, a level of need outside my own that is satisfying to meet. He's probably going to be one spoiled rabbit. And even if I can't keep him forever, he's already won my heart.

(His cage was dirty when he arrived. It's since been cleaned and is now all spiffy with recycled pulp bedding, healthier than shavings).

There is a sign posted on the noticeboard of a large church by the side of the highway down which I drive every day. It appeared a couple of weeks ago and has been bugging the hell out of me ever since, enough so that it has finally merited its own blog post.

The sign reads:

Tired of the ups and downs of life?
Give God a chance!
I'd like to modify it to read:

Tired of the ups and downs of life?
Give God a chance—and get even more!
Just kidding. Well, mostly.

What's so wrong about that sign?

It has the potential to be radically misleading, and in fact, is, on face-value reading.

The meaning that most casual readers would get out of that sign is this:

Tired of the ups and downs of life? Give God a chance! Things will become happy, easy, peaceful and meaningful! No longer will you have to struggle with the day-to-day frustrations, heartaches, and sorrows of a life without God. Now your path will be rosy and smooth. Especially if you come to our church. You'll walk through life singing, pitying those poor fools who won't give God a chance.
What's the problem with this?

Well, it's wrong.

If it is implying that by giving God a chance, your life will somehow become trouble-free, it's radically wrong. There is a heck of a lot in the Bible about trouble and suffering. Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33) Speaking personally, I can testify that "giving God a chance" hasn't spared me from any amount of pain or difficulty; far from it. I've probably had more share of it than the average person.

If what the sign means to imply, however, is that God can and does give you peace and joy in the middle of trouble, strength to overcome it, and the assurance of his presence always, it's true. Jesus also said, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28) He's talking about an internal rest, a deep peace of heart and spirit, that you can't get anywhere else but from him.

I have known that, too. In the middle of some of the greatest pain of my life, I've known that. I've known the truth of another of these words of Jesus:

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:27)

That's the truth. And that's what our churches need to communicate to people. If they communicate that having God in your life somehow means that things will become easy or pain-free, it's no wonder that non-Christians think that we're cracked. Better tell the real truth: that God doesn't guarantee a shortcut to no worries in this life—that comes later—but what he does give is far better. That's what I'd like that sign to say.

Won't You Be My Valentine?

My Red Welsh Cupboard all dressed up for
Valentine's Day

How I love red and white!
I made this Valentines miniature quilt in 1995.
I enjoy bringing it out each February.

My sweet sister, Sherry, gave me this darling tea set many years ago.
Isn't it adorable?

Brrrr...It's cold outside!

Happy little Play Pals straight from the heart of my darling adopted daughter, Paula
Thank you, dear. I love them!

Happy Heart Day!

Thank you for visiting me, my dearest friends and family.
I hope and pray that each one of you have a wonderful Valentine's Day!

Blessings and Fond Affection,
Carolynn xoxo "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.Love never fails." I Corinthians 13:4-8

I'm linking with all my favorite blogs and parties. I have listed them all on my sidebar. I hope you will stop by each one and say hello. I'm sure they would love to meet you!

I am so excited to be participating in Sandy's Easter-Spring SWAP at www.521lakestreet-sandy.blogspot.com The last day to sign up is February 18 Hurry...You don't want to miss this fun swap!

Hello, My dear family & friends,
Valentine's Day is past but for me it lingers in my heart and throughout the entire month of Love...
I love February.

"The man or woman you really love will never grow old.
Through the wrinkles of time,
Through the bowed frame of years,
You will always see the dear face
and feel the warm heart union
of your eternal love. "
A. Montepert

Sweets for the Sweet!

True Love
Mark & Carolynn

"Us"
Our 12th Wedding Anniversary
1998
Mark and I have been happily married for 27 years.
We met in San Diego in 1985...
and it really was love at first sight!

"Grow Old With Me
The Best is Yet to Be."

My Sweetheart
"Then"

My Sweetheart
"Now"

Is your mouth watering, yet?

"His and Hers"

Whenever we visit San Diego we always make a trip to See's.
This year as Valentine's Day was approaching we indulged just a bit.

Two Hearts Beating As One...

I'm so glad you stopped by...
I know that most likely several of you are on
Post Valentine's Day diets...
BUT
I think you'd agree...
We all need a little sweetness in our day!

Blessings to you!
Carolynn xoxo

"Now these three remain:
Faith,
Hope,
&
Love
But the greatest of these is Love."
1 Corinthians 13:13

Each week I love joining in my favorite blog parties. I'm linking with:
Boogie Board Cottage
www.boogieboardcottage.blogspot.com
Mockingbird Hill Cottage
www.mockingbirdhillcottage.com
Sunny Simple Life
www.sunnysimplelife.blogspot.com
The Dedicate House
www.thededicatedhouse.blogspot.com
The Little Red House
www.dearlittleredhouse.blogspot.com
Etsy Cottage Style
www.etsycottagestyle.blogspot.com
Cozy Little House
www.cozylittlehouse.com
Knick Of Time
www.knickoftimeinteriors.blogspot.com
Lavender Cottage Dreams
www.lavendergardencottage.blogspot.com
Have A Daily Cup of Mrs Olson
www.jannolson.blogspot.com
My Rose Chintz
www.sandimyyellowdoor.blogspot.com
Common Ground
www.debrasvintagedesigns.blogspot.com
Farmgirl Friday Blog Hop
www.deborahjeansdandelionhouse.blogspot.com
I Gotta Create
www.igottacreate.blogspot.com
Rooted In Thyme
www.rootedinthyme.blogspot.com
The Charm of Home
www.thecharmofhome.blogspot.com
Meet and Greet Blog Hop by Laurie
www.createdbylaurie.blogspot.com
Show-Licious Saturday's
www.sew-licious.blogspot.com

At last I've discovered the reason why it is easier to stay out of close relationships: opening yourself to another person, really opening yourself, really being a friend, genuinely caring as opposed to only pretending to do so, involving the very heart of your being with the heart of another—means not being allowed the luxury of not feeling any longer.

It means that when they hurt, you hurt.

It means that their problems become your sorrow and your burden.

It means that fluctuations in the relationship can tear at you. Your emotions are no longer tangle-free; they're tied up with something external to yourself, and that's a little bit scary.

It means you're committed to doing whatever it takes to help them and meet their needs.

It means no longer being alone.

And while that can be a beautiful thing, sometimes, it's more than just a little frightening.

Do you stay selfish and closed up, restricting yourself to your little world, ignoring others and their problems so you can retain your safe but death-chilled isolation?

Or do you allow yourself to be vulnerable, and in so doing grow and change, become far richer, and alive?

That's the decision.

On it, hangs everything.

When I was nine years old I was nearly abducted.

I am writing about this not because it has been on my mind, but because there is a backlog of items written previously that I want to publish one at a time. I realize the darkness of some of my posts could be construed as garnering sympathy. I assure you it is none of that. What I think about, I write about. This one is a particularly persistent memory from my childhood that makes a rather interesting story. So here you go.

I was outside playing alone in my front yard on an overcast spring day. A car pulled up and stopped at the side of the road just in front of me. I clearly remember the look of it: long, older-model, dark brown, rather battered. A man leaned out of the open window. "Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to Such-and-Such cider vinegar factory?"

"Just down the street about a mile on the left," I replied briefly. It was a completely pedestrian request and as normally happens I expected him to thank me and be gone.

But he didn't go away. He didn't say thanks, and drive his car away to find the vinegar factory. Instead he looked at me for a long moment. Then he opened the door, got out of his car, and stood there. He was tallish and lean and wore a dark brown suit to match his car and dark sunglasses that totally hid the expression on his face. He looked like an FBI agent. I couldn't see his eyes, and the way he was looking at me was eerie. What was he doing?

He started walking toward me, silent, purposeful, menacing steps. I backed away several corresponding steps. As far as I could. I was pinned up against the front wall of my house and there was no door into which I could escape if he decided to rush and grab me. I was not terrified, only wary. With the internal sense that victims have I knew I was prey. I had heard about strangers who approached children in cars, and all my danger-sensors were sounding off on this man.

As I backed away, he stopped and gave me a long, appraising look. My heart pounded for a moment that seemed like eternity. We stared each other down while my fate was being decided. If I think about it I can still place myself exactly in that moment: see his face, his suited body, feel my tension to escape and mounting realization that I could not. I was a completely helpless mouse before a hungry cat, my survival dependent on his whim. It was a moment from a nightmare: the bad guy is coming, I am frozen here, I cannot run.

Finally he turned, got back into his car, closed the door, and pulled away down the road. I breathed a sigh of relief. I think I went into the house then, but I never told a soul.

Thinking about it later (I was of a detective turn of mind, an avid Nancy Drew reader), several things struck me as odd: one, he'd used the old name for the vinegar factory, one nobody had used for a couple of years; two, that he'd stopped to ask at all. The factory was just down the road and "everybody" who lived nearby knew where it was. Thirdly, of course, the dark sunglasses and stepping out of the car to make an approach at me. I knew, with the instinctive knowledge that children have, what his dark intentions were. There was no doubt that only my wariness saved me. He didn't consider it worth the risk to venture further and chance me screaming or running.

It all took place within a few moments, yet it was a few moments which could have changed my life. I guess I'll never know who he was, or what he wanted, or what might have happened. All I know is that I'm thankful I had the sense to back away, and that was enough to put him off. I hope he never went on to terrorize other little girls. I pray he never did. And I won't forget the day that darkness touched my life so nearly.

One of my favorite lil' men had a birthday this week and a big one at that...10! He even said to me "Sid, can you believe I am going to be 10?" Then shook his head back and forth like he was carrying all the weight of the world on him. I mean, really???

When did he go from this?

To this???

Yes, that is him getting private coaching lessons from John Smoltz! So grown up.

Speaking of grown up...within an hour of being with him this past weekend he asks me this...
F: "Sid, do you think you'll ever get married?"
S: "I hope so."
F: "So you do want to be married?"
S: "Yes, of course."
F: "So you just haven't found the right guy yet?"
S: "You could say that, yes."
F: "Well good, I was getting worried about you..."

WTH??? Who is the adult and who is the kid here? But I heart him regardless of how fast he is growing up! Happy Birthday Buddy!!! Big hugs as long as you will let me give them to you.

How much do we love her?

I'm a big fan of Giuliana . No, I do not know her personally. And yes, she is a TV Host/reality star so I might only be seeing an edited version of her but the reasons I admire her, I feel, are very genuine. Giuliana is a woman who had a dream and worked really hard to achieve her goals. What's not to admire about that? Plus, I feel like she is gracious about her success. She didn't expect it, and is in slight awe and disbelief of it despite the fact that she earned it. That humility is what, in my opinion, makes her so likable.

I also really like that Giuliana is a woman who proves that you can have it all-a successful career, a functional/loving relationship and motherhood (as was announced yesterday...yeah!). Just because you are driven, doesn't mean that you don't want those other things and I like that she represents that in a positive way. And she might have achieved love a bit later in life but I think that is because she only planned to do it once and waited for the right man. I respect that.

And Giuliana is positive and funny. Two things that are very important! Giuliana has been really optimistic throughout her quest to get pregnant, despite how emotionally difficult and physically taxing that must be on her. And now that she is also fighting breast cancer, she is still finding a way to remain encouraged about her future. Somehow she continues to work hard, keep a smile on her face and make jokes despite all her struggles.

I totally started bawling yesterday when I heard that they were going to have a baby! Again, I do not know these people and I really don't watch their show that much but I have just been a cheerleader for them (along with the rest of the world)! And as an unmarried 36 year old woman who wants five kids (yes, I know) I think their story pulled at my heart strings. Anyway, so so happy for them!!!

And now to bring it back to interior design...

I've also enjoyed watching them tackle the building/remodeling of their homes. I love'd G's quote "I need Rosetta stone for decorating" when she was complaining that she didn't understand what Bill and their decorator, Jennifer were talking about. Hilarious.

[Giuliana if you happen to be reading this, there is no need to get a restraining order.]

Was down for the count most of the week with a migraine. It was constant and would flare up at the worst times, like at an installation or right before a charity event. Awesome. If you have ever had a migraine you know of which I speak. I've had them for 15 + years and they are absolute agony. When I called the emergency doc last night he told me the good news is that I probably won't have them after menopause. My reaction? I said "Um, you don't tell a single, 35 year old woman who desperately wants children to 'hold out for menopause'!" His reaction "You're funny! Sorry to laugh but that's good stuff." Really Dr. Chuckles, glad someone is laughing! As Ross on Friends would say "What a weird way to kick me when I'm down!"

Worked but at half capacity so I don't have any pics to show. I had to leave one install in the middle and cancel another one. I hate disappointing clients! I know it is just decorating and not like I am late getting their new heart to them in time for the transplant but I still feel guilty! So again, my apologies to you sweet, patient clients. Please don't fire me!

Got the photos back from my photoshoot in my office with John Chilton. He did a great job! Here is a lil' taste...

Watched Sixteen Candles for the 8,274 time. My 24 year old cousin recently got married and his sweet wife said to me "So guess what I did this weekend? I watched some movies from your generation...Sixteen Candles, Breakfast Club, Some Kind of Wonderful." If you are reading, I adore you but MY GENERATION???? I am only 10 years older than you. 10 years does not a generation make. And since I like to think that I am still 24, let's hold off on the age-gap talk. Love ya!

Please note the grasscloth. Perhaps the only good thing about 80's decor.

It's the Annual Cooper River Bridge Run this weekend in Charleston. Am I running it? No. I walk the bridge 2x a week so I don't need to do it with 3,000 other people. But I am excited for all the folks that are excited about running it! It will be a fun weekend! Have fun and be safe!

Thibaut

Schumacher
Belleza Damask Wallpaper

I sold the idea of this beautiful Schumacher wallpaper to a client for her powder room. She teared up she loved it so. My heart swelled because I was making all of her wallpaper dreams come true. Then I got a quote...I could not in good conscious talk a client into spending the equivillant of a new Lexus on wallpaper for a 4x5 room that only guests use. So I call out to you, my design friends, does anyone know of a similar, dare I say knock-off version of this? It is a grasscloth with a stenciled damask print on it. A-mazing!!! I am exploring the route of having a faux painter do the stencil on a grasscloth but thought I would ask because that makes me nervous and I predict many sleepless nights worrying about paint dripping...any thoughts would be helpful! Many thanks!

Have a great weekend!

Thanksgiving at the river.
Where the turkey defrosts on a pile of wood next to the wood stove...

... in a cabin that Mom makes feel like home.

Next to one of my favorite creeks.
Where I run until my lungs scream for air.

Where the morning fog is thick on the banks of the river while I sip hot coffee.

Where the glow of the moss in the setting sun brings tears to my eyes.

Where I want to lay in the miniature forests that carpet the rocks.
Where I left a piece of my heart...