While I do not believe I am a hoarder, I do tend to hold on a bit too long, to some things. An example I will share is something I found inside a wardrobe box I recently unpacked. This robe is a robe I bought when Terry and I were dating in 1997. I always wanted a silky robe, and this was all I could afford. I bought it at Victoria’s Secret, and back then, it was a pretty big splurge for me.

Because I spent that much money, I held on to it, for years. 24 years, to be exact. The color blocking is a bit odd, I admit. If it were all purple, or even purple and hot pink; it would be fine. The green thrown in, is a bit much. But, they had something that fit me, in my (sort of) budget.

Terry looked at it and asked me, “Did you get it on clearance?” I told him, “It was all I could afford back then, and the silkiest thing I could find on my budget! And it was before I met Lauren!” Terry, “And you didn’t think putting it back on the rack

My precious Terry has this amazing ability. He can go right to sleep when he lays down. I mean, right to sleep. I envy that.

The other night, I was so tired. But I couldn’t shut off my brain. I wondered, “Did I turn on the dishwasher?” From that thought, I wondered, “Did I send a thank you note to Tom for those sauces he sent?” After thinking about Tom and the sauces, I thought, “Did I leave them on the counter or put them in the pantry?” After visualizing the pantry, I thought, “Shoot. Did I turn the kitchen light off? Then I remembered I turned it off and saw a picture of my sister-friend, Jessica and Michala when she was little. Then I thought about how much I miss seeing Jessica and her family. My thoughts then trailed to missing so many of our friends we haven’t been able to visit this past year. Next, I was thinking about Michala, and how we want to see more of her. She will graduate (a year early!) this August, and where will she get a job? Where will she live? How will her new puppy adapt to wherever they move? (More to come on her precious, new puppy!)

The next time I looked at the clock, an hour had gone by, and my brain was nowhere near ready to sleep. An hour.

As my mind wandered to other things, another hour

My Terry was fully vaccinated by February. I have had to stalk websites to find available vaccines. I went from the state’s health department website, to county website, to stalking grocery stores and pharmacies nearby, trying to get registered for the vaccine. Once I was able to make an appointment, I was beyond excited.

But the morning of my first vaccine, I was super emotional. This has been such a difficult, trying year on everyone, and to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel just opened up the floodgates for me. I was excited, for one thing.

I was deeply humbled, for another. I am so grateful for science. The medical experts and the scientists who made this vaccine possible deserve so much thanks and gratitude.

When my name was called and the pharmacist began talking to me, I started crying. I apologized and said, “I’m so sorry for crying! I knew I would be emotional

“Trust the process.” This has become Terry’s and my new, “go-to” phrase. We know we are to trust God. That is a given. We do not always trust His process or His timing, though.

This is when we get ourselves into trouble.

We try to rush God. If He does not show up with an answer on our timetable, we try to play the role of God. And I will say this as delicately as I can … we ain’t God. You will rarely see or hear me use the word, “ain’t.” But to further emphasize my point, we ain’t God, so there’s no need in us trying to be.

My pastor, Jamie George in Franklin, Tennessee and my pastor, Steve Lawes in Big Pine Key both said we need to learn to wait during the tension. To embrace the tension. For two pastors to drive this point home, it must be crucial for our faith to grow.

I have to be honest with you, though. I suck at embracing tension. I act like I have an allergic reaction to tension and

I saw my new cardiologist and the day I saw him, they did an EKG. My heart was showing AFIB during the EKG, so he gave me a heart monitor to wear for 30 days. It’s really cool and super techy. It’s small and taped to the outside of my chest and a little smart phone goes with it. Any time I feel anything not normal, I’m to record it on the little phone that monitors my heart monitor.

Here’s the thing, though.

I keep forgetting to keep the heart monitor’s monitor with me. I’ll set it down next to where I’m working, but if I get up and walk away and go somewhere else, it does not record my heart if I get more than 30 feet away from it. Every once in a while I will hear a little noise and wonder

Terry and I had the joy and privilege of driving through Texas during the snow and ice storm in February. In the event it does not come through, that line is dripping with sarcasm. We were in West Texas where the sun was shining, it was 55 degrees and blue skies were overhead. We decided to drive further than our original plans, due to the great weather.

I kid you not, we stopped at a rest area and high-fived one another with this decision to keep going. We hopped into the truck and I called Marriott’s toll free number to cancel that night’s hotel reservation, and to book another hotel in San Antonio, Texas. At this point, we were about four and a half hours from San Antonio. An “easy” drive, we determined. The man on the line with me could not have been more kind, and he laughed with us as we told him our plans. “We want to get out ahead of this bad weather we are hearing about,” we explained.

While we were on the phone, I noticed the temperature dropped like a Price Is Right wheel. The temperature gauge went from, “55, 54, 53, 52, 51, 48, 46, 44, 42 …” so much so, that I tapped Terry’s right arm and said, “I think this is broken!” and pointed at the screen.

Within driving 10 miles, the temperature dropped 25 degrees. It dropped from 55 to 30. Terry let his window down to stick his hand outside to feel the air. Surely this was a problem with our screen, and not the temperature falling that drastically?

“It’s cold!” he said.

“30, 28, 26” were

It is no secret how much I love Christmas. I keep a Christmas countdown app on my phone. For reference, there are 268 days until Christmas, from today. (You’re welcome).

But Sunday represents everything about us, as Jesus lovers.

Today represents how we are supposed to live our lives, for Jesus.

Serving.

Today is Maundy Thursday, and it is, (for me at least), the most humbling day of the year. The word, “Maundy” derives from the Latin word, “command.”

At the Last Supper, Jesus commanded us to love one another. He also washed the feet of His disciples. Knowing full well He would be betrayed … Jesus still washed their feet.

Through His actions, Jesus showed them we are to serve. He did not just say it; He did it. He showed them, through this act, that we are to humble

A couple of weeks ago when Terry and I were out of town, we thought I was having a heart attack. My left arm went from tingling, then had a squeezing sensation, then it went numb. I had some heaviness and a bit of chest discomfort. My heart rate dropped to 30, then went up to 145, then back down to 50. (Terry bought a FIT watch for me, for Christmas, so we have been able to monitor my heart rate). Because of COVID, I wanted to be as far away from a hospital, as possible. Terry was not taking any chances, though, so we called our friends who lived nearby and asked which hospital they suggested.

Please know this: I am going to be okay. I have AFIB, and am certain it will be treated by my cardiologist, and I will get back on track; feeling like myself, again.

The day spent in the emergency room, however, was scary. The doctors and nurses were extraordinary. Each time I apologized for being there when they had truly sick people battling COVID; they comforted me and told me there was plenty of room in their emergency room for me to be there, and what was happening to my heart was not normal and they would be keeping me there until they had answers. I assured them I would be walking out of there, that day. (They assured me that I was not the boss, and would stay put until told otherwise). Because they were the ones with the needles, I was on my best behavior and did not argue with them.

I truly believe doctors and nurses are superheroes who walk among us.

They performed multiple stroke

Michala and I both saw a precious, Christian counselor about 10 years ago. His name was Bob. Bob is with Jesus now, but so many times, I felt like Jesus was with me … because of Bob. I cannot tell you the number of times he helped shine light into our very often, scary, dark lives.

Bob shared a poem with Michala once, and it was about not everyone in your life gets a front row seat. I have tried to find the author of this poem many times, and the only thing I can find says, “Author Unknown.” Anyway, Bob explained to Michala and me both that our lives are like the theater, so we have to be mindful of our audiences. Not everyone should have (or deserves) a front row seat to our lives.

Some people show up and live lives reflective of God’s love, and it is evident in the way they love us. They deserve front row seats.

Some people, however, are toxic. They are not healthy, and they need to be in the balcony … not up close. Bob Goff has a wonderful saying in his book, Love Does. He said, “I don’t mean to sound callous, because the bad ones need friends too. They just don’t need you.” This has been a hard lesson for me to learn in life, and I am still learning it.

But I am learning some of those people I need to love from a distance.

We can still love others in a big way that reflects Jesus’ command

Some anniversary dates are not romantic dates. They’re often difficult, painful reminders of what no longer is, or never was. Birthdays for someone no longer living to celebrate. Due dates for babies that were never born. The date a loved one died.

These are the anniversary dates we wish we didn’t remember, and we certainly do not want to celebrate.

I started marking these dates with something sweet or enjoyable. Be it a piece of chocolate, a glass of my favorite wine, a slice of yummy pizza … whatever strikes my fancy that day, I find something I know I will enjoy, and use it as a reminder to

One of the coolest things as a high school teenager was when I would call the radio station to request a song. Sometimes they would say things like, “We’ll get that on for you in the next hour,” or, “We’ll try to play this, tonight.” You could pretty much tell if they would or wouldn’t play your song by the way they answered you. It seemed especially likely if they asked your name, so they could throw in a, “Here’s ‘Closer to Fine’ by the Indigo Girls for Aimee, listening from Nashville.” I would be listening, intently, to the radio station on my boombox/stereo, making sure my fingers were on the ready. You had to press “record and play” to get the tape to record whatever was playing on the radio for the mixed tape in the making.

Sometimes I would be able to capture the song within half an hour to an hour. Sometimes it took longer. But on those nights after a call to the radio station was placed for a request, I seemed to listen more carefully to every single song introduction by the DJ, as well as the opening sound of each song. If I was not paying attention, I would surely miss it. And no one wants a mixed tape with part of the song cut off, for sure.

I realized recently how if I don’t stay in a constant state of listening for Papa to speak to me, I am going to miss many of His messages.

Terry and I were out of town recently, and traveling through this COVID world is no easy feat, as you all well know. We do not eat inside restaurants, still; we do carry out/curbside. We wear our masks, everywhere, we practice social distancing; so being on the road and finding places to eat, things to do safely, had some challenges, to say the least. One day when we were getting ready to leave, the hotel

When I was a freshman in high school, we had to read a Greek mythology novel in my English class. By this very sentence alone, you can tell how impressed I was. I cannot even recall the name of the novel.

I did not have any interest, whatsoever, in reading about Greek mythology. None. Zilch. Blech.

I went to my teacher and said, “I just can’t read this. It is against my religion.”

Keep in mind, my (then) Southern Baptist Christian self had no moral high ground on which to stand regarding my biblical knowledge (or lack thereof) and this book not jiving with my beliefs.

My teacher, likely realizing an unmotivated student, rather than a “passionately religious” student was standing before her, asked, “And what religion is that?”

“I’m a Christian,” I told her. “So I can’t read this.”

“I am a Christian, too,” she told me.

Feeling a bit flustered I said, “So you’re okay

Y’all, I’m tired.

I’m just flat out exhausted, worn out, drained, tired.

I loved the book, The Help, by Kathryn Stockett. If you have read it, you know the movie did not disappoint.

One of my favorite lines is when Aibileen says to Hilly, “All you do is scare and lie to try and get what you want. You a Godless woman. Ain’t you tired Miss Hilly? Ain’t you tired”

I want to put that scene on a jumbo screen for the entire country to see, and ask them all, “Ain’t you tired?”

I have never seen such disgusting behavior, nasty treatment for one another, vitriol and ugliness in my life. And I was in politics.

There are people in my life I have not heard from or spoken to in years, who decided to chime in on my personal social media posts recently, just to fight. No comments or well wishes when I talked about milestones or events Terry and I have faced over the years. No questions about how my parents were doing after they lost everything in the 2016 fire. No concern for our grieving family when my grandmother died. No follow up questions to see how Michal

Terry and I keep a couple of fruit bowls out in the kitchen. As I reached for a lemon to use in one of my recipes the other night, I noticed a couple of the apples we bought were already rotten. I reached for the one next to the rotten apple and as soon as I touched it, it was soft. Clearly, we need to be eating our fruit, faster. But that rotten apple left an image in my mind about what you and I are supposed to look and smell like, as lovers of Jesus.

What a year last Wednesday was.

I feel like 2020 and all of the emotions came to a head, Wednesday, January 6, 2021.

For yayas, I looked up the formal description/definition of a few words in order to compare and contrast.

The first word? Patriot. Dictionary.com defines the word patriot as, “a person who loves, supports and defends his or her country and its interests with devotion.”

The second word? Terrorist. Dictionary.com defines the word terrorist as, “a person, usually a member of a group, who uses or advocates terrorism.” (Terrorism officially

I have searched and prayed the past few days for words of comfort to share with y’all.

The trouble is, I pound endlessly on my keyboard, then hit the delete/backspace button and say, “No, I probably shouldn’t write that.”

Then I write something and read it to Terry who looks at me and says, “Because I know and love you, I know what you are saying here. But maybe sit on this one for tonight and see if you still want to share it, tomorrow.”

It is hard to admit this, but politics is in my blood. It has been for almost 30 years.

After I worked on my last campaign and told my mentor, “I’m hanging it up. I am leaving politics. I see a career in food and feeding people in my future.” She told me, “You say that, but it’s in your blood. You can take the girl out of politics, but you can never take the politics out of the girl.”

She was right.

The University of Tennessee afforded me with some really brilliant-minded professors. Some were conservative, some were liberal. All of them challenged me to think deeply and dig even deeper for the truth. You see, as much as you might look at me and think I am only 25 years old, I was actually in college before the internet. Before smart phones. Before Twitter and breaking news apps.

I know. It’s terribly hard to believe I could be “that old,” but it’s true. I wish I could tell you my 47

I never saw Die Hard until either last Christmas or the year before. I can’t remember. Terry was aghast I had never seen this “classic Christmas movie.”

Okay. Let’s talk about that for a second. People actually call Die Hard a Christmas movie. Yes, it happens at Christmas. But that’s it. It’s not a Christmas movie. Let’s not fight about this. Let’s just agree it should not fall under the Christmas movie category.

I digress.

So one day several months ago, Terry and I were talking about the weekend I met Senator Fred Thompson and drove him around. Terry said, “You’ll really like his character in Die Hard 2.”

Staring at my husband in shock, I said, “Two questions. One: Fred Thompson is in Die Hard 2? I didn’t know that!”

Terry, “He is and you’re going to like his character a lot!”

Me, “second question. There’s a Die Hard 2?”

Terry looking at me like, “How did this never come up when we first met and started dating?” But instead, he laughed

Do you have a word for the new year? My word for 2020 was, “abide.” The word means: to accept, or act in accordance with. Some synonyms are: obey, observe, follow, hold, bear, endure, stand, suffer, tolerate.

Boy. When I sat outside on the morning of January 1, 2020, writing in my journal about the word, “abide,” I remember feeling pretty hopeful. I also remember feeling cautiously optimistic.

I think I was leaning more into the “cautiously” part, rather than the, “optimistic” part.

I kept hoping for a 4th quarter, “Hail Mary Pass” miracle with three seconds to go. I was convinced people were going to do the right thing, even if it was a photo finish moment; but they would certainly do the right thing. I believed our financial

My glasses have a scratch right in the center of my right lens. I have done all of the google suggestions to remove a scratch, to no avail. If possible, the scratch seems to grow. Of course it is right in the center of my right eye. I have learned to hold my head to one side or up/down a little to see around the scratch, and the part that hinders my vision.

I have put off going to the eye doctor this year because of COVID. Sitting right on top of someone else breathing into my air space and vice versa just does not sound like an exciting idea. But it is getting to the point I need to have my vision checked and get a new pair of glasses.

My 2020 vision has not been superior, to say the least. In fact, I have not had my eyes examined since a couple of weeks before Irma

This ornament is Linus and his blanket. You are familiar with A Charlie Brown Christmas. Linus is rarely without his blue, security blanket. You might have seen the article about Linus and his security blanket that many people are posting again. We believe the article was written in 2015. The article pointed out that when Linus gets up and recites Luke 2:8-14, and says the words, “fear not,” he drops his security blanket. A pretty powerful moment, right? Charles Schulz was a bold, brave man of faith, and obviously made no bones about it when he wrote “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” Granted, in 1965 when this came out, it was a much nicer time, and Charles Schulz knew he had an incredible opportunity to reach young children and teach them the meaning of Christmas!

Our pastor, Steve Lawes, has an incredible gift and talent of pointing to Jesus. Last year, Steve talked about how he likes to show this clip (where Linus drops the blanket) and how he very much believes that was no accident on Schulz’s part.

Remember the infomercials where “today only, act now, because for $19.99 you can get all of this! But wait, there’s more!” Remember those? This is one of those moments. But wait, there’s more! Steve

Michala went on a retreat a couple of years ago and called us to share one of her favorite takeaways. She said, "We are to smell like Jesus." (The fragrance of Christ referenced in this scripture: "Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing." - 2 Corinthians 2:15)

I loved that reminder and wrote it down in my Bible.

But lately I have been thinking ... I do not think I smell like Jesus. The temperature from the past year leading up to the election has made many of us reach the boiling point. I am sure many of my comments have smelled more like Aimee and less like Jesus.

I don't want to smell like Aimee. Granted, often times, Aimee smells like Brown Sugar and Fig, or the Bum Bum cream I love. Sometimes