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Audience Participation Requested

October 26, 2012 by

So here’s the deal. My goal next month is to make at least three (or four) decent, healthy meals a week for my family.

But Kelli, don’t you already make meals for your family?

You had to ask, didn’t you?

…

Yes, alright?! I make meals for my family. Every day, in fact. Well…every day that I’m not reheating a meal for my family, which if you think about it, is simply heating up a meal that I already prepared, so it’s kind of like double preparing a meal, which clearly shows double the love, right?

Who says I’m bad at math?

A typical dinnertime hour in our house usually involves me flying around the kitchen like a crazy lady, trying desperately to defrost meat or chicken and popping open cans of vegetables that I know my kids won’t eat, but I’m going to prepare anyway because a well rounded dinner plate involves vegetables. I will whip together a decent, if not all that coordinating, meal in less than thirty minutes and will plop those plates in front of wide eyed cherubs who will ultimately turn up their noses in disdain.

Unless that which I plopped in front of them happens to be chicken nuggets or Mac and Cheese, which I rarely buy because I’m fairly certain there is neither chicken nor cheese in either of those items.

But I digress…

I will watch them smother their meat in ketchup or Barbeque…or Frank’s Hot Sauce for Landon because the child was born without taste buds, and they will choke down the required number of bites before pushing their plates away and declaring how NOT hungry they are.

This is usually followed by an immediate request for a snack, which leads me to shoot flaming daggers from my eyes as I huff around the kitchen and boldly declare that no one will eat snacks before bedtime because I had to throw away so much food.

And sometimes I throw in a side of guilt by reminding them of children in Africa with no food, which is basically lifted straight from the Mother’s Guide to Driving Your Kid’s Crazy.

So all that to say…cooking isn’t my forte. It’s not that I can’t cook. It’s that I seem to be allergic to planning ahead. On Tuesday and Thursday evenings, I coach Tia’s gymnastics class, so I generally try to put something in the crock pot those days so the boys aren’t left to eat cereal for dinner, but other than that, I just tend to prepare meals on the fly, which leaves very little room for creativity and has left my children with less than adventurous pallets.

So part of my 31 Days series, was to plan out and ffeed my family a week’s worth of real meals. The kind that you plan ahead and prepare for and that require fresh ingredients and what not. Since Octobre is almost over, I’m just going to push this plan to next month. I put it off because…well, because I’m scared, quite frankly. I mean, you read what I wrote above, right?

I AM ALLERGIC TO PLANNING AHEAD!

I am writing this post in faith knowing that I will need plenty of encouragement along that way, because friends this is one thing I don’t believe I am capable of.

I need to believe in my ability to cook a decent meal for my family and to start planning said meal before 4:30 in the afternoon.

So how can you help?

I did not make this meal. My friend Wendy made this meal. I ate this meal. It was delicious.

If you have a favorite recipe, or a meal that your kids really enjoy, please leave it in the comments.

If you have a link to a pin on Pinterest with a killer recipe, leave the link. I’ll pin it to my board (if I can figure out how…I’m a Pinterest newbie) and I’ll stockpile a few good recipes from the internet to try out.

There are a few guidelines, though:

– Don’t go too easy on me. I want to try real recipes – nothing canned or boxed. I need to prove to myself and my family that I can make real food from time to time.

– No fancy ingredients. If the recipe calls for Gouda or shallots or any obscure fair that can only be found in the fresh market section of Whole Foods on Fridays and Tuesdays between 9:00 and 9:22 am, then there’s a really good chance I will never make that meal.

– Nothing that involves pasta sauce, because my children don’t like pasta sauce. Can you believe it? I birthed children who don’t like spaghetti! Or frozen pizza! Sometimes I wonder if they’re really even my children…

– Crock Pot recipes are my friends. I am fairly convinced that whoever invented the Crock Pot has been granted a special place in heaven because if I can toss all ingredients in a big pot in the morning and POOF! At 5:00 dinner is ready? Um…yes, please. Yes. Please. 

Other than those simple rules, the sky’s the limit. Lay it on me. What is your favorite dinnertime recipe? Who’s gonna help a slacking sister out?!

 

Pretty please?

Filed Under: 31 Days, Domesticity, Motherhood Tagged With: , , , ,

Kitchen Adventures: A Guest Post

October 21, 2012 by

So I think it’s safe to say I won’t actually have posted 31 times in my 31 Days Series. I felt very…shaky this weekend. I was a little stressed and jittery and just needed a few days away from the screens. I needed to step back, take a deep breath and simply remind myself that I can.

I can do this.

I can survive this (adoption paperwork).

I can step away if I need to.

It felt so good.

Today, I get one more day to breathe. I’m going to let Shay talk to you instead. Shay and I “met” over the phone about a month ago when I did a bit of social media consulting for her. She has taken the advice I had to offer and run with it and I couldn’t be more impressed.

Shay is pretty newly married (she’s been married a year *sigh*) and, well she’s just adorable. This post made me laugh out loud because, um…I was so there. No joke, I once turned the wrong burner on on our stove…the burner with a tupperware of cookies on top of it.

Have you ever tried to get melted plastic off of an electric burner?

(hint: it’s impossible)

Shay is sharing her own kitchen adventures and what she’s learned in this first year of cooking for two. Make her feel welcome, will you?

Hi there, I’m Shay, popping over from The Pocket Buzz to join Kelli for 31 Days of Believing I Can. Last month, my husband Adam and I celebrated our one year anniversary. It was a great year, and as you can imagine, we both learned a lot about ourselves and each other.

Before getting married, I’d been at college and on my own for about six years, so I’ve had some time to experiment in the kitchen. The reality of it is, though, Adam is a better cook. It comes more naturally to him; thankfully we make a great team. And in the last year, our kitchen has produced some great meals (mostly his doing), and it’s also produced some great memories.

For example, to celebrate Adam’s birthday I decorated the house and made french toast from scratch. The decorating part, I seem to have a handle on. The cooking part…not so much. I turned around for one split second and the dish towel sitting nearby somehow leaped into the gas burners on the stove and caught fire.

How’s that for birthday candles?

I was really trying to out-do myself for this birthday and make an angel food cake (his fave). What I didn’t realize about this particular cake is that it rises quite a bit. As in…they can nearly double in size when you don’t have an Angel food cake pan. Now I know. And to this day, we still have a bit of angel food cake batter in our oven.

Last week, we made lasagna to take to a friend. It’s a tried-and-true family recipe of Adam’s that’s beyond delicious. As I went to put it in the fridge, something came crashing down on me. Unbeknownst to me, there was a huge glass serving bowl sitting precariously on top of the fridge. (Mind you, I had set it up there.) It hit me on the head and fell to the floor. I was in shock and Adam was just glad it wasn’t the lasagna. I had a good headache after that one.

Now, enter Pinterest–where thousands of people post anything and everything. My saving grace has been the recipes with photos, and often step-by-step instructions. Finally, I just decided that if I wanted to be a better cook, I was just going to have to cook. And recipes on Pinterest helped me see that I could.

It’s been a journey. And I still have mess ups. But now I have a whole repertoire of recipes that we go back to again and again. It’s also given me the guts to try new things. I just have one piece of advice: before you cook for a family gathering, make sure you’ve tried the recipe at least once. Otherwise you may end up with only once-baked-potato casserole instead of a twice-baked one.

Trust me–it’s not nearly as good.

If you’re not on Pinterest yet, I’d highly recommend it. One thing I wish I’d done to start with is to be make my categories more specific. Instead of just a Foody board, I now have a Breakfast Board, one just for Sweet Treats, and an Actually Made This board for the recipes we’ve really tried.

And if you want to trust this kitchen-novice to give you some recipes, here are a few that have worked really well for us:

Crock pot Chicken Tacos Three Ingredients + a Crock pot = my kind of meal (we actually served this for a mexican dinner with friends. It was a hit.)

White Chicken Chili is great for a cold day. It makes great leftovers, too. (We served this as an afternoon snack on Christmas Eve last year. Success.)

French Dip Sandwiches are also made in the crock pot. These were a hit, too.

Thanks for humoring me today and letting me share my kitchen stories. Surely I’m not alone. Here’s to another year of continuing to learn that I can, in fact, cook!

Take some time to hop on over to Shay’s blog, The Pocket Buzz, where she shares all her techy tips and tricks and gives you a heads up on some great deals! You can also follow her on Pinterest where, clearly, amazing recipes await you.


And if you’re interested in consulting with me on how to grow your blog and your social media presence, or if you would like to guest post on Minivans Are Hot (indeed), feel free to shoot me an email! kellistuart00 (at) hotmail (dot) com.

Filed Under: 31 Days, Blogging, Guest Post Tagged With: , , , ,

Lean into the embrace

October 19, 2012 by

I came home torn and confused and frustrated and plopped on the couch with a long sigh. He looked up at me over the glow of his iPad and waited a moment before speaking.

“I knew this would happen,” he said with a smile. It wasn’t a haughty or prideful smile. I felt his sympathy and my eyes welled with tears.

“This is so hard,” I whispered and he nodded his head.

We have lived in Florida for a year and we have visited and tried out every church in the greater Tampa area. We found one we loved and we connected. We connected with the people and the pastor and the worship. It was everything we thought we were looking for.

Large.

Stable.

Connected.

It fit into the neat little puzzle of church that we were used to and I desperately wanted to stay there. But…

It was a solid thirty minute drive from our house and I saw Lee shut down every time we made the drive. I knew that this couldn’t become our church home. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t practical to drive that far, particularly because our children turn into rabid, psychotic baboons in the car.

I wish I was joking.

So I wasn’t surprised when Lee mentioned that we needed to start visiting churches closer to home again. We did, over and over we visited and nothing fit. Nothing felt right. I came home in tears every single Sunday.

Finally we visited a small church about seven minutes away. We’d visited this church earlier in the year. It was a recent plant and there were a lot of bugs to be worked out. Upon revisiting the church I realized there were still bugs to be worked out…but they were in my own heart.

It’s small, this church. Smaller than any church we have ever attended. I’m not used to that.

It’s a plant, something I’m also unfamilier with and makes me feel uncomfortable. But who said comfort was the goal, right?

It’s Baptist. I haven’t been in a Baptist church in a really, really long time. I have to get used to it. It’s not wrong, but it is different and I am learning to embrace the different.

But the people…oh the people. They are wonderful. They remember us when we walk in the door. They are excited to see us when we arrive. They know us and want to see us using the gifts and talents that we have been given in the best way possible.

They want to build a community.

We need community.

And so we have stayed and I continue to allow the bugs to be pushed and prodded and shaped into something more beautiful. Less about me.

But it’s still hard, because it’s not what I’ve known. I’ve lived in the unfamiliar for over a year now and part of me longs for the peace that comes with knowing and understanding. The peace of comfort. Peace.

 

Could it be that peace is a choice?

 

I stepped forward to serve in a way that I’ve always served – in the area that God has not only gifted me, but also that I’m passionate about. But they don’t know me. They know I say I’m gifted in this area, but there’s no proof to back up those claims and I…well, I’m prone to sit in the back corner and wait to be discovered. That’s what happened on this particular night. I sat in the corner and I knew I couldn’t stay there.

As I sat on the couch, knees pulled up to my chest, Lee leaned forward and spoke wisdom.

These are your gifts.

You have to use your gifts this way.

Sitting in the corner is not your gift.

You have to tell them.

You have to be bold.

And this month is the month of believing I can, so I made the call. It was uncomfortable, this business of boldly proclaiming my gifts. It felt snobby to so bluntly lay out how I believe I can best serve within the Church.

I felt like a diva.

But I also felt empowered. My husband has never before told me those things and I’d never thought of my abilities in the way he spoke of them. It was the first time I’d embraced my skills and I leaned into the embrace. You know what happened?

Relief. Not just my own relief, though I certainly felt freed from the inner angst that threatened to keep me tied in the corner. But, there was also relief from those in leadership positions who really want to use us all in the way that God desigend us to be used.

As it turns out, pastors and worship leaders and church leaders don’t have ESP. They don’t have some magical sixth sense that allows them to see the future and see exactly how each member of the body should be used.

 

Weird, huh?

 

Leaning into the embrace not only freed me up to be used, but it freed them up to know how to best utilize my skills. Bold living, humble serving – this is how we work together as a body of believers.

It’s actually not as scary as I thought it would be.

Filed Under: 31 Days, faith, Lee, Life Tagged With: , , ,

The tear in my flesh

October 16, 2012 by

Jackson Pollack "Autumn Rhythm"

This mothering thing is hard. No one really tells you how hard it will be. Or maybe they try and you just can’t believe it until you live it on your own. No one tells you that your heart will be torn in two and you will go through repeated cycles of trying to figure out who you are and how to match your independent desires with your desires to serve and love your family well.

No one mentions how messy it all is – that the desires will never match up, will never fit and yet somehow it all comes together anyway, but it looks more like a Jackson Pollack painting and less like Michealanjelo.

Before we were mothers, we were all something besides…mothers. We had dreams and longings and aspirations and desires that went beyond cleaning and scrubbing and washing and drying and refereeing and surviving.

When motherhood sets upon us, those dreams don’t disappear, but they do shift. Our desire to be Mommy becomes so much stronger than any other thing we’ve ever felt and we give ourselves wholly and fully to the task and yet….there remains something else inside.

The truth is, I sometimes feel like a big failure for not accomplishing more before I became a Mom. And I fight the feeling of failure for not attaining more even after I became mother. I compare myself to others and I wonder why they seem to accomplish so much and I can barely get through  my days.

Then I remember that every journey is different.

I wish I was finished with this novel. I wish I could write it faster. I feel like I’ve failed already for taking so long. But the truth is, this is the best I can do. I cannot stay up until all hours of the night writing, because that’s not how I operate or function.

I can’t do this any faster and still do my job as Mom well. I’m learning to be okay with that.

I wish I had more time. I wish it were easier. I wish I could accomplish more in the few hours I have alone. I wish I could shirk every other duty and focus solely on the one thing I want to do the most – finish this book.

But that is not where life has me right now. Right now I don’t have the solitude needed to be a great writer. I do, however, have everything I need to be a great mother. I have all the tools and all the abilities and all the time to excel in the role that matters most.

I will finish the book. I know that I will. But it’s taking time – so much more time than I want it to. I won’t finish it in the wee hours of the mornings because I must sleep in those hours so that I can be alert to pour all my energy into my number one job. And I will save a bit of time, a bit of energy for the desires and longings that are mine and will work fervently in the little time I have to reach that goal.

But it won’t be a quick ascent. I am the tortoise in this race. I’ll reach the finish line, but only through perseverence because I’ve found that, for me, slow and steady is far more successful than fast and furious. I’m much less prone to burn outs that way.

Lisa-Jo Baker wrote a wonderful post on writing the other day. It has encouraged me so much. If you feel like you’re always a step behind, like you can’t keep up, I suggest you read “If You Wish You had an Island to Write On Alone.”  This quote by Madaleine L’Engle bounces off my soul and clangs inside my heart:

 

“I uncovered the typewriter. In my journal I recorded this moment of decision, for that’s what it was. I had to write. I had no choice in the after. I didn’t matter how small or inadequate my talent. If I never had another book published, and it was very clear to me that this was a real possibility, I still had to go on writing.”

 

Day 16: If you, like me, feel frustrated with the longings that war against once another, take heart. It will all come together, and though it may look messy and wild, in the end it will be considered a masterpiece. 

Image Credit

Filed Under: 31 Days, Life, Motherhood, Novel, writing Tagged With: , , , , , ,

Born of the same laugh

October 15, 2012 by

Picture by Luluphotog.com

On Saturday, Tia and I took two friends with us to Orlando to revel in the magic of the new Tinkerbell movie – Secret of the Wings. We nestled into the plush seats of the Downtown Disney theater and for a little over an hour, we danced with fairies.

The movie was sweet and the laughter of the little girls around me was miraculous – it almost made me believe. But it was the message of the movie that stirred my heart in such a unique way that I came home emotional and full of sweetness and hope and joy and…wonder.

Clearly I am a bit emotional these days, yes?

The premise of the new Tinkerbell movie is that Tink, a warm weather fairy, longs to cross the border into the winter woods to see how the cold weather fairies live, but it is strictly forbidden. Of course, she decides to cross anyway and through a series of events, she discovers that she has a sister living in the winter woods. A sister she never knew about. A sister, born of the same laugh.

I watched the story unfold and I looked down the aisle at my girl, my own little fairy, and a new surge of hope birthed. The laugh and delight of God Himself gave birth to her, my warm weather fairy, but is there another? Does a sister, born of the Same Laugh, wait for us in Russia?

I will confess that sometimes I feel an immense amount of fear when I think of this adoption. It is so daunting, the process, and I fight against closing my fists around it because I know that I can’t. When we began this process, Lee and I stepped very delicately forward with an extremely bold prayer.

“Lord, bless this. But if it is not what You have for our family, close the door and make it obvious.”

The door has remained open and so we continue to step forward with a little more confidence each day, but I know that I cannot grasp it as a sure thing. I must hold it loosely realizing that this process, this hope for our future is His and it’s all to His Glory. It cannot be mine and I will not take any glory for it.

There is freedom in relinquishing control. I feel like my heart is a little more protected and less prone to devastation, and yet there is also a deep, deep hope that the end result is the one I desire it to be. The hope that allows us to bring home a little fairy, the one from the winter woods.

 

A sister for my girl.

 

Right now I have no reason to believe that we won’t see the frutition of this dream for our family, but I also want to learn from the journey. I want to trust wholly and fully on the One who delights in these young ones. I want to hold firm to His Plan and the understanding that He knows what is best for our family, not me.

And so I hope, and I hold loosely to the dream and the vision and Lee and I continue to take the steps forward to cross the border to the winter woods and bring her home.

Day 15: I hold my hands out confidently, palms held wide to the vision placed before us. I believe we are exactly where we should be.

How are you today? How can I pray for you?

I was not compensated for this post. I previewed Tinkerbell: Secret of the Wings at an advanced media screening and I am grateful for the opportunity to work with Disney. The new Tinkerbell movie releases on DVD on Tuesday, October 23.

Filed Under: 31 Days, Adoption Tagged With: , , ,

Believing means doing

October 12, 2012 by

No post today. Part of believing I can means I have to do it. Today I feel the creative juices flowing and I need to work on my book. I’ve got Hershey’s chocolate by my side, a mug of pumpkin coffee, Mozart playing in the background and two hours to myself.

 

Wish me luck!

 

And have a great weekend! Any fun plans on tap?

Filed Under: 31 Days, Novel, writing Tagged With: , ,

(Mostly) Wordless Wednesday

October 10, 2012 by

You know what that is?!

That is our NEARLY COMPLTED STACK OF ADOPTION PAPERWORK!!

We are waiting on two pieces of paper and the completed home study, which all should arrive any day now. When it arrives, we will make all the copies, get everything notarized and ship it to our agency.

WAHOO!!!!

I thought that when I completed all of this, I would be done with paperwork.

Then I began applying for grants.

Than I almost cried.

Then I got over it because each paper gathered is a step closer to meeting our daughter.

Day 10: I believe we are going to make it through the paperwork phase. The light at the end of the tunnel is getting a tiny bit brighter.

Happy Wednesday to you all!

Filed Under: 31 Days, Adoption Tagged With: , , ,

Day 6: Take the Plunge

October 6, 2012 by

 

Choose courage over safety, chance over predictability.

 

There’s freedom when you fly.

 

Happy Saturday.

This is the sixth post in my 31 Day Series on embracing confidence and living boldly. For more 31 Day posts, click here.

Filed Under: 31 Days Tagged With: , , ,

Created for this

October 5, 2012 by

This morning I woke up and checked Facebook. My uncle had posted this as his status, an excerpt from my cousin Sean’s amazing book, People Who Sing Jesus. I told you all about the book here. Have you read it yet? You should. It’s amazing…

People who sing Jesus understand that before they can do anything for God there is the humbling realization that God says about each of them: “I made you and I love you. You have no idea the great thoughts I have about you.” The essence of the first commandment is the ultimate expression of the Divine declaring intimacy with humanity. No matter your faith tradition, before any person can actually do or not do something for the Creator, there is the matter of God’s real presence making the first call. Anything we do for God is a response to Divine action and initiative. The focus is not on human activity but on the enduring work of the gospel that the Holy Spirit initiates in every time zone, zip code, and culture of the world, including each of our lives. We take action inspired by the Creator who took original action pre-genesis.

Sean Cooper – People Who Sing Jesus

I was created to be a writer. I was created to be a wife to my husband. I was created to parent these three amazing children. I was created with a love for people. I was created with stories to tell. I was created to one day adopt.

I was created to love Nutella!

I was created with so much purpose.

I do all of these things out of response to the Creator who knit them inside me from the beginning of time. I was created to sing His praises. I was created to love and be loved.

So knowing these things, why wouldn’t I walk forward in complete confidence?

What were you created for?

 

The Nester has challenged all of us to take 31 Days and write about one topic. This is part of my series of embracing who I was created to be and walking in full confidence.

Filed Under: 31 Days, faith Tagged With: , , , , ,

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…

October 3, 2012 by

Ever so slowly, I chip away at my novel. Just like The Little Engine that Could, I find myself slowly chugging up the mountain, straining to reach the top. The problem with writing a novel (particularly a historical fiction novel, which relies as much on historical accuracy as it does creative license) is that it’s an up hill climb the whole time. And simply finding the time to write is proving to be the biggest hurdle of all.

I need another week in California to knock this thing out.

Just sayin’…

Whatcha think, Babe? Think I could sneak away for five more days?

You wouldn’t miss me…right?

*sigh*

Here is another sneak peek at the novel that I am fighting to finish. I hope you enjoy.

Set up: Maria and Polina have been sent from Kiev, Ukraine to Northern Germany to work in a slave labor camp assembling armaments for the Nazi’s. The conditions are poor, just a step above those in the concentration camps.

A deep, rattling cough has settled in Polina’s chest and I see her movements slowing down steadily. She is sick and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Nothing but offer her half a piece of stale bread and a hand to hold on to in the dark.

It’s been a little over a year since the war began – since everything changed. I have nothing left of my former life but the memories that haunt my dreams – the echoes of laughter and sorrow that mix together in a swirl of black and yellow each night. I worry about Sergei and wonder where he is and what he’s doing. Is he alive? Is he well?

I have convinced myself that Anna is safe and refuse to consider the possibility that she might not be. I’ve heard from the other girls that when they examined our hands at the train station, they were looking for strong hands that could perform hard labor. If the hands looked too soft and the girls too dainty, they were sent to another part of Germany to work as housekeepers or nannies.

I pray this is where Anna is, because then I know she must be safe. In a house full of children with only the chores of cooking and cleaning, Anna will be in her element and it gives me hope for her survival.

I cannot think of Mama and Papa without my chest burning with sorrow. How frightened they must be with all of us gone and no hope for knowing where we are. It is the thought of them that gives me the most heartache.

It’s dark tonight and we are finally heading home. We work sixteen to eighteen hours a day and the labor truly is wretched. We stand the whole time, sometimes lifting heavy containers. My fingers are raw and rough from the long days of moving metal and turning and screwing on the caps that will seal the fate of one of my countrymen.

Polina wheezes steadily next to me, her chest giving off a deep rattle. She is so sick.

“You shouldn’t work tomorrow,” I say, my voice thick with fatigue.

“If I don’t work, they will kill me,” she responds.

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” I answer quietly and immediately regret my words. Polina labors forward a moment in silence.

“Yes,” she says finally. “It is what I want, but…” She grows quiet and I wait as a coughing fit racks her body. Stopping to lean forward, I hear her coughing up fluids and spitting bitterly in the grass at our feet. I cannot see her in the dark, but I can guess that she is spitting out blood and my heart goes cold.

Taking a breath and straightening up, Polina pulls hard on my arm. “Help me back,” she whispers. I hear the sound of the German boots coming up swiftly behind us.

“Walk quickly!” he snaps, jabbing me in the side. Polina and I stumble to catch up to the moving line.

“I don’t want to die at their hands,” Polina whispers, her voice tight and constricted. “I don’t want them to have the satisfaction of hearing me moan as they burn my body alive. I want to die on my own.”

It’s true, what she says. I know that it is. I haven’t seen the ovens where they burn the bodies, but I’ve heard of them. They are real and sometimes girls are still alive when they’re lit. Tears prick my eyes, hot and bitter as we step across the threshold of the camp, our home in hell.

“I just need to lay down,” Polina says and I nod. Most of the girls make their way to the bath house where they will wash off the grime of today’s work, but I turn with Polina and we slowly walk back to the barrack. I pull Polina through the door and set her down gently before heading to the lamp and striking a match to light the wick inside. The single, burning lamp gives a light orange glow which dimly flicks at each barren wall with a sorrowful shadow. I pick Polina up under the arms and drag her to the small pallet on the floor that is left for the sickest girls who are unable to climb into the bunks along the wall.

She is so light, her body nothing but skin stretched taught over bones.

©Kelli Stuart; October 2012

The Nester has issued a 31 Day Challenge in which we write for 31 days on a single topic. Over 1,000 people have joined in and the internet is ripe with learning and encouragement right now. I have chosen 31 Days of Believing I Can. Scroll down for more of what I’m learning as I embrace confidence. Today, I believe I can finish this book…by the time I die. Let’s just go with that.

Are you participating in 31 Days?

Filed Under: 31 Days, Novel, writing Tagged With: , , , ,
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