Love Begins
Cosmic Funnies
Lauren Shippen
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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d e v o n
Fai_Ryy
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@laurenjseifried-blog
So thankful for friendships like this one.🙌🏾#fourhourslater #sixfeetunderwestside
#snowday #morelikesnowcoupleminutes #weouthere #nawactuallywereinside ❄️❄️❄
A new friendship is blooming.🌱✨ #canthandlethecuteness #1000gifts
Last year, my Momma and Aunt Linda had gotten gingerbread cookies for us to make and decorate when we came to visit for Christmas. That visit never happened so we will continue to make gingerbread men and think of our Gigi.🎄✨ And yes, Ezra is doing a cookie dance from pure jubilation.😊 #1000gifts
Oh my soul is weary... I am heartbroken, angry, and simultaneously terrified for the kids I know and love in our neighborhood. I have listened to all the explanations and excuses of why it was not a crime to murder a 12 year old. And I have heard it is divisive- especially amongst us Christians- to bring up race. And that talking about racism makes things worse. And that if you quit talking about it, it will go away (same with abortion and sex-trafficking, right?) And that if you don't act up, you don't get shot. And that you must wait for the details. Yes yes, we've heard it all. You've made your point loud and clear. But your idea of keeping order and keeping peace is one I want no part of. "First, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Council-er or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to 'order' than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says 'I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can't agree with your methods of direct action;' who paternalistically feels he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by the myth of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait until a 'more convenient season.'" Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. #tamirrice #justicefortamirrice
#squad 🏀🍂
December 16th. There we were in our tiny yellow and brown house, the one I had received a vision of in a dream just months before. Boxes piled high to the ceiling, as friends dropped off chicken soup and Gatorades to help us regain strength from an ill-timed stomach bug. My husband and I took turns napping, while our healthy and energetic toddlers bounced around, and I rubbed and prayed health over my growing bump. At least he’ll get all of the nutrients from the prenatals, I told myself. This too shall pass.
Then it didn’t. I heard my husband on the phone, so I came into our bedroom, where I eagerly awaited a shift change on kid-duty. He looked at me with tears in his eyes and a soft, trembling voice. Mom had been sick for nearly a decade, but the news was as shocking as if she’d just been given her diagnosis. He held me, as tears flooded my pillow, and I cried out to God between sobs.
Will this all be too much to bear?
We pumped ourselves full of vitamins, swapped a few small, unwrapped presents, and booked a flight, as preparations for the services were well underway. The kids woke us up at 3:00am (God, why?!) and with bleary eyes, we exchanged a forced smile, as we boarded the plane back to Carolina. We had to make it back to the funeral home by 2:00 for one last viewing.
God, will this break me? Because God, I thought Christmas was Christmas trees and family and celebrating, but this Christmas has been sickness and fatigue and death. We’ll be mourning this Christmas and I’m afraid of how to celebrate in the midst of so much heartache…
As I sat down, avoiding eye contact and intertwining my fingers tightly with my husband’s, I grabbed my program and saw the verse listed that I had finally sent to an all-too-patient pastor.
1 Thessalonians 4:13: … you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.
There it was. The very verse I had quickly chosen before the programs were sent off to the printer, speaking life back into me. It had felt as if everyone else was in a season of celebration and I had no place among them. But this verse proved otherwise. I too have hope– hope in this Christ child. Hope that even if everything in my life falls apart, it will not break me, for He will sustain me. In his word, Jesus has promised to give me hope in my darkest night. And that is something I can celebrate, even as graveside flowers are fresh and tears flow abundantly. Will you join me?
Two short Thanksgivings ago, I was headed to the hospital to await the eminent arrival of our Ezra. Thanksgiving for me would always be flashbacks to watching the Macy's Day Parade through strong contractions. I loved that he came on that day, of all days. But just one Thanksgiving ago was the last time I saw my mother before she died. I thought it was possible it would be our last visit, but I couldn't entertain those thoughts longer than a second. And so this Thanksgiving finds me looking forward to celebrating our Ezra bear, being with dear friends and family. Having traditions, new and old. But grieving for those that aren't going to be around our table anymore. I followed my mother's recipe to a "T" tonight, yet kept wanting to ask her if I was doing it right. A quick taste confirmed it passed the test and brought back a flood of memories and with that, a flood of tears. Thinking of all of you who have a bit of a hole in your heart this season. Doesn't mean there isn't an endless list of things to be thankful for. It just means that for some of us, many of those things are memories.💛
Years ago, I always thought having kids would get in the way of "ministry" and what God might want me to do. I saw folks who chose to have kids as having given up on a "special" calling on their life (ha!). But years later, I know this IS my ministry and through them and their love for others, our reach has actually grown. We've been able to connect with our neighbors quicker and more deeply because our kids became friends. They have not gotten in the way. They are not holding me back. God is shaping me through them like nothing else could. He is chiseling away at my impatience and selfishness through these gifts and I firmly believe raising them to know and love the Lord is holy, eternal work. Yes, I'm wiping noses and breaking up fights today but in this dying of myself, I know I am finding my life. #getaftergrateful #1000gifts #motherhoodissanctifying
Church here in the US and abroad... If you have 30 minutes, watch this documentary on how we must best care for orphans moving forward. No more opening up orphanages. Orphanages should only be a last resort and a temporary solution. Children need to be in families. I am moved and encouraged, and we as a family are praying for God to lead us.
I posted this a while back but I think it's worth resharing. Feeling extra heavy as I think of the precious life of Tamir Rice, taken just at 12 years by the people who are supposed to protect us... #justiceforTamirRice "To turn a blind eye"- an idiom describing the ignoring of undesirable information. As in, "I, as a white American woman, have the privilege of turning a blind eye to the daily atrocities that face my black brothers and sisters. However, I refuse to because what affects them now affects me." #raiseyourvoice #Istandwithyou #unitinginthegospel #racialreconciliation #TamirRice (pic rp @grace_sandra_)
The most interesting buzz and bestThese Guys Livetweeted The Cops Showing Up To Their Airbnb After The Neighbors Thought They Broke In links
I’ll just leave this here... #stayclassDecatur
These guys showed such grace towards the cops, neighbors, and just the whole situation. Can’t assume I would’ve responded the same, if it were me. But I’m white and a female, and have the privilege of responding differently. Amiright?
Can I get real for a second?... This photo represents something for me. I think today, I turned a corner in my self-image. Can we talk about these things?... Post-partum body issues can be such a struggle with us women. We go from sporting a cute bump to then having lots of bumps- just not in the "right" places. For some ladies, the weight just falls right off, but that's not been my story. Trying to find a dress for my 30+ lbs over weight post-partum body was intimidating for me, to say the least. But tonight as I was trying to get dressed, I flung that dumb, uncomfortable tummy band across the room as a first step of no longer being ashamed of my post-partum bump and post-partum body. My hubby and I danced like two crazy teenagers at prom (no, really😂, I'm afraid there are pics to prove it), when I was tempted to hide at home so that people will stop asking me if I'm "expecting." Sisters, let's continue to get out there and dance. We are beautifully formed by a God who loves and adores us.#takebackpostpartum #nomorebodyshaming #postpartumbody #postpartumisbeautiful
In the shadow of prosperity, not quite close enough to the world of endless choices, billboards encourage people to buy local food, but the only local in historic south Atlanta, is if you grow it yourself.
Atlanta folks, show some support for the Carver Neighborhood Market, which is helping to alleviate the problem of food deserts in poorer areas- specifically this neighborhood of South Atlanta. (And then grab some delicious coffee nextdoor from Community Grounds.)
Watch this quick video!
NYT's Atlanta bureau chief Kim Severson traveled to Sapelo Island's Hog Hammock, where property tax increases of 600 percent are crippling the last descendants of Geechee culture
This makes my heart heavy... So honored to have been able to visit such a beautiful place with such a beautiful culture. Be sure to watch the video.
In the world's eyes, maybe an unlikely pair. But these two are inseparable, always at each other's side. So thankful for neighbors we can call friends. #selfiesunday #bestfriends #neighbors
"Of course, this side of heaven we will not do anything perfectly. Harsh words will be spoken. Patience will wear thin. Frazzled mothers will act frazzled. And when this happens, our own sinfulness does not detract from the power of the gospel, it illustrates why we need it. Do not use your own mistakes as an excuse to wallow about what a bad mother you are. Repent, seek forgiveness, get it right, and move on. Be forgiven. Then extend that forgiveness, that belief, and that joy, to your children." Rachel Jankovic (from Mom Enough: The Fearless Mother's Heart and Hope) Pick this book up asap if you don't own it, so much rich wisdom and goodness, thanks for the rec @kaceyleigh!💛