The Ugly Side of Estate Sales

Today I saw an estate sale rear its ugly face. And I mean, U-G-L-Y, you ain't got no alibi, you ugly!

Wowzas. That's really all I can say, although for blogging purposes, you know I'm gonna say more. I'm just sad that this blog isn't scratch and sniff because I can still smell the funk of what I saw on my clothes and hair.

Okay, let me make this clear...I love junk. If something is old, chippy, rusty, has a great patina, a little dust, etc...I get butterflies. I'm like a hunter stalking its prey, if you will. And I definitely don't judge people for hanging on to very random, old things, because without them, I wouldn't have anything to hunt. However, what I saw today was just plain sad.

Being a "regular" on the local estate sale circuit, I've heard the grumblings of a "hoarder" sale on the horizon and I've been sort of intrigued (and seriously I am a full-fledge regular apparently. Not only do the sales staff now know who I am and what I buy, but so do some of the other regulars who point out items for me now. I guess I'm easy to remember since I'm about the only one who's under 60 and hitting up the sales every single Friday).

Apparently this home was owned by two successful doctors in town, and I can tell you that they were not into "storing up treasures in Heaven" but instead clearly buying everything they laid eyes on and loved, and then bought multiples of said items. Multiples times 10.

The first thing that hit me was the smell. Although this is going to sound awful, and I mean it in the sweetest way possible, at first I thought that maybe someone in the room with me had on a stale adult diaper. Hey, it happens, I'm not judging! But as I moved to the next room, the smell was stronger and coming from every corner. My heart actually hurt for whoever had lived like that for YEARS. That was years and years of piles, junk and rancid funk. Ick.

I could make this post a mile long, but I'll leave you with a few quick tidbits of knowledge:

• Hoarding clearly doesn't happen overnight. Tim, keep an eye on me. If I start stock piling the same sets of pajamas in every color, cut up my AMEX.
• When you see people gag on the Hoarders show, that is 100% real. There is a smell and it is bad. And somehow people live like that. Surely, they start to smell too, right?
• If you have 40 suitcases piled in your shower, it's time for an intervention.
• There is no way that sweet, old doctor was able to access 50% of his house, including his kitchen, for years and that makes me sad.
• I'm pretty sure there was a dead cat in there somewhere. Not kidding.
• You do not need 18 bottles of Italian dressing. I don't care how great the deal was!#putdownthecoupon
• Walking through a hoarder house brings total strangers together. I think for a second you fear that the whole place will cave in, so you tend to stay in groups. There's also a LOT of eye rolling that takes place.
• I need a shower now. 
• Why did they not stock pile something useful like hand sanitizer?!

If you need me, I'll be at home throwing away everything I own.

I kid you not, one woman had a few items in her hands, then turned to me and said with a twinge of horror in her voice "I need to go home and clean my house." Everything she had been holding was put down on a table and she bolted. I was about two steps behind her.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

A Painful, Loving Reminder

Have you ever loved something so much that it hurt? Or loved beyond what seemed normal or healthy or even beyond comprehension? Have you ever been asked to sacrifice for that love? I'm guessing on some level we all can answer yes to one, if not all, of those questions.  But have you ever been asked to lay your life down for that love? Die for that love? I'd have to answer no, with confidence.

In a moment of transparency, I'll share with you that I left our Easter service on Saturday wanting more. The pastor did a great job, but being the selfish being that I am, I wanted more. I wanted more depth, more passion, more of the story, if you will. I wanted to come in hopeful, then be broken down a bit by the reality of what we were actually celebrating as a church body, only then to be put back together word by word and piece by piece in His wholeness, before we were dismissed to hang out with bunnies, Peeps, and pastel decorations. I know that Easter is a glorious event, it's actually one of my favorite days of the year, but I also know that before the glory part came the pain, torment, torture and aloneness part. I know things had to "be finished" before they could truly begin. It hurts just to think about it, to the extent that my human mind can grasp, but I need to be reminded of it for the glory and grace to truly make sense.

As I rose on Sunday morning, before my alarm even went off mind you (Easter miracle), I decided to crank up the worship tunes for the hours I'd spend prepping our home and the meal for our families. Somewhere between baking the ham and plunging Peeps into a pot of chocolate, I had my own little church service and it was exactly what I had longed for the evening before.

One of the processional songs at our wedding this past summer was David Crowder's "How He Loves". I knew I wanted that song involved in the ceremony somehow, and then decided to have our parents walk in to it, along with my groom. There are so many worship songs that speak to my heart, but that one often seems to sum up what my heart feels, but that I simply don't have the words to explain. I wanted that song to be a reminder on our wedding day, that if we can just love each other with an ounce of how He loves us, we'd be set. No one loves quite like He loves. Not even close.
To death and back.

As I stirred my green beans on Sunday morning, the Lord stirred in my heart through this very song. His love, His story, His sacrifice, and His glorious promise and rebirth.

"And we are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking.
So Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss,
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest,
I don't have time to maintain these regrets,
When I think about the way...

He loves us,
Oh, how He loves us"

My heart DOES turn violently inside of my chest.
And I DON'T have time to maintain these regrets.
When I think about THE WAY.
He LOVES US.

Again. And again. Without regret. Without remorse. He just loves us. Me AND you. To death and back.



 

Our Family of Five

It's official, our family grew by 2 last week! Please meet the newest 'Bergs, Pearl and Merle.

 

It's not the best photo in the world, but at least you get the drift. Aren't they cute?

Rockford has a ton of geese, however our yard hadn't seen too many visitors lately due to all of the snow. When this sweet couple came by last Tuesday for a visit, I treated them to some birdseed. You know, just to be a good host and all. Tim said they'd come back if I fed them, but for me, that made all the more sense, although I'm not sure he meant it to be encouraging. I've been wanting chickens for awhile now, so this seemed like a great test run without the ownership and crowing.

Wednesday, the hubs texted me the photo above along with "you've created a monster". My heart smiled. If those are monsters, well then they're cutest, feathered monsters that I ever did see!

By Friday evening I was convinced that we needed to build them a goose hut so they could stay all night and not get cold. I pitched the thought to my husband who looked at me puzzled. So I followed up the initial suggestion with "you know, a hut, like a fort or a tent...a hut for the geese." He frankly replied "I know what a hit is. We're just not building one for geese. Umm, no."

Whatever, give me a few more weeks to sweet talk him. I think a goose hut could really boost our resale value;)

So there you have it. The 'Bergs are now Tim, Britt, Wrigley (Piggy), Pearl and Merle. And I've been told that mating season is right around corner. Give me some grandgeese, Pearl!!! I'm totally down with spoiling them rotten with only the finest french bread crumbs.

An Easter Memory

Being so far away from home for the last 16 years, my Easters have often been spent in Charleston and away from my family due to travel time and expenses.

I can remember a few Easters when I was newly out of college without out any official Easter plans aside from going to church and maybe grabbing a quick lunch somewhere. Those weren't very memorable aside from the memory of feeling a bit lonely knowing that my family was in another state and celebrating without me.

Over time I decided that I'd start hosting a friends' Easter gathering for whoever might be in town and without family to help them celebrate the special day. From that first friends' Easter on, I quickly learned that there were quite a few others out there in the same boat as me and a new tradition was vetted.

Some years I'd have mostly friends attend, other years were mostly made up of Citadel cadets who worked for me and didn't have the chance to go home. Every year, however, consisted of great food, adult Easter eggs hunts where we'd regress back to our childhood and run around like crazy people looking for eggs and candy, all the while, forming our own little friend-family memories.

The last Easter that I was able to host, one of my favorite cadets attended (although I wasn't supposed to have a favorite as the boss, so let's keep that between us;). Will was a comedian, to say the least, and was often larger than life. I had recently promoted him to a cadet supervisor because he was now a senior and a strong fundraiser, but often times I'd have to remind him, while I tried to not laugh myself, that he was there to establish order and not to create humorous chaos. He made my job fun every single day. He'd surprise me with McGriddles, he'd text me jokes, plop into my office chair and talk about his family, and some of my favorite times were talking with him about girls and relationships. He loved the ladies.

During our meal that Easter Sunday, Will was once again entertaining our guests, and in a moment of animation during his story, he jumped up from the table and startled the dog so bad that it bit his leg. Blood was drawn, jeans were torn, but Will kept on laughing. I felt horrible as the host, but it was definitely a memorable Easter together and one that he never let me live down. He claimed the dog was "a racist" and had planned the attack from the get go.

Last year while lying in bed one morning, I got a text that made me sit straight up  and is still ingrained in my memory. Our funny, sweet Will had been in a one car accident the night before and was gone. He was only 24 years old and he was gone. I couldn't breathe for a few minutes. I had just seen him a few months before when he came back to Charleston for a visit and he was so happy. How could he be gone? He was one of "my kids" on campus and I'd never get another joke from him again nor would I ever get to give him girl advice again. It just wasn't right.

As I sat through his funeral and heard story after story of this comedian who had won over the hearts of so many, I couldn't help but think of Easter in my home together. I was so thankful for that afternoon when a boss/employee relationship became what felt like a family tie as we prayed, ate and ran around my backyard like fools and fought over eggs. He's in a better place now, where Easter and everything we celebrate this Sunday, isn't just a meal and event, but is something much much bigger. Thanks to knowing Will and sharing that special holiday with him, this holiday will always be a little more special and real for me.

I've thought a lot about you this week, Big Willie, and I miss you. I actually see people all the time that look just a tad like you, even if it's just their polo shirts, and for a second I think maybe it's you. The good news is that I know I'll see you again. Some day we'll share jokes and a McGriddle again (cause ya'll know my theory on McGriddles in Heaven).

Celebrate with our Lord for us during this special time of resurrection, hope, and rebirth. And if there's a huge, holy, golden egg hunt up there, look out, everyone. I doubt Will will tone it down for you. He's always been in to win it and his laugh can charm you into handing over your entire Easter basket loot. Trust me.

Dirty Little Secret

I'm about to let you into my inner circle. The place where the real, unfiltered me lives. The place that I try to hide from the rest of the world for fear that it will point a harsh finger, throw judgy words, and then turn it's big world back on me to never be seen again.

The time has come to share my secret with the world in an effort to gain some accountability.

My name is Brittany and I'm a water hoarder. Always have been. The hope of a full recovery is not promising, but the first step is admitting...well, you know the rest.

This is what my night stand looks like on any given day/bedtime.

Ugh, right?! I'm seriously afraid that if I don't take control of this habit/dirty secret, that I'm going to accidentally drown bury Wrigley in the mess one of these days.

I sometimes feel like maybe I'm suffering from PTSD and there was a time when my parents deprived me of water for bad behavior; so now as an adult, I feel I must stock pile hydration sources. Having 12 different containers of water next to your bed in a week's time is obviously due to some childhood trauma, right? Okay, mom, spill it! Was a locked closet involved??

Well, there you have it. Judge away if you'd like. I'm not proud of my obsession, but apparently I am a very thirsty person.

And if a war ever breaks out or zombies take over, I'm going to be set for at least 5 days when everyone else on the planet is dying of thirst. Or at least that's what I tell myself with an ounce of self preservation.

I'm Turning Into A Regular Ole Betty Stewart

After a week full of wanting to cook and bake, I declared to the hubs that he was married to a future Betty Stewart this weekend. Hmmm, not really sure that came out right, but maybe it was Freudian slip. What I meant was that I'm becoming a Martha Stewart or Betty Crocker, but the irony is that a lot of what I make on the first time often has the right ingredients, but somehow comes out slightly off. Much like being a Betty Stewart, I would guess.

A few of my recent recipes that did come out deliciously correct were a Shepard's Pie for St. Patty's Day (served with steamed cabbage, of course), Energy Balls from Pinterest (although these might need a new name that isn't so joke friendly- I told my hubs if he needed me, I'd be in the kitchen rolls my balls, which did not sound quite like it did in my head. Oops), and a Tex-Mex Pizza that I've made before and loved.

With all triumphs come a few failures along the way to help keep ya humble. Sadly, one of my recent failures was a Pinterest slow cooker meal that every pinner before swore by. #PinterestFail. And of course, this failure took place at a family dinner last night with my parents and brother present. I'm not sure what I could've done differently, to be honest. I followed the recipe to a T. One of the comments on the actual recipe site stated that she "made it for fer family of 4 and they had to fight each other for seconds", while another commentator stated "we ate this meal for 3 days straight; we loved it so much".

Seriously, if I had to eat this meal for 3 days straight, I'd probably cry until I was excused from the table and my Clean Plate Club membership had been revoked. Do yourselves a favor, if you were one of the 10 people who repinned my pin for the Cheesy Chicken and Rice pin, delete it and never look back. Never. It just tastes like a big vat of chicken. The end.

So if you're still reading and are looking for a few fun, new recipes, give these a try! I've tried them, tested them, and they're Betty Stewart approved:)

Martha Stewart's Shepard's Pie-

2 pounds baking potatoes (about 4), peeled and thinly sliced (I always freeze extra mashed potatoes when I make them so that I can pull them out and use them for a recipe like this, saves so much time!)
Coarse salt and ground pepper
1 tablespoon vegetable oil, such as safflower
6 medium carrots, halved lengthwise, quartered if large, and thinly sliced
6 celery stalks, thinly sliced
1 large onion, chopped
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup tomato paste
2 pounds lean ground beef chuck
1 cup whole milk (I used 1% milk for a healthier option and it was fine)
1 1/2 cups shredded sharp white cheddar (6 ounces) (I also used less cheese for a healthier touch)
Directions

• Preheat oven to 450. Place potatoes in a large saucepan, and cover by 1 inch with salted water. Bring to a boil; reduce to a simmer. Cook until potatoes are easily pierced with the tip of a paring knife, 15 to 20 minutes.
• Meanwhile, heat oil in a 5-quart Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium-high. Add carrots, celery, onion, and thyme. Cook, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are tender, 8 to 10 minutes. Add flour and tomato paste; cook, stirring, 1 minute. Add beef; cook, stirring occasionally, until no longer pink, 6 to 8 minutes. Add 1 cup water; bring to a boil, and simmer 1 minute. Set beef filling aside.
• Drain potatoes; return to pan. Cook over medium, stirring, until liquid has evaporated and a thin film covers bottom of pan, about 1 minute. Remove pan from heat; add milk and 1 cup cheese. Mash until smooth; season cheddar-potato topping with salt and pepper.
• Pour beef filling into a 13-by-9-inch baking dish. Drop dollops of topping over filling; spread to edges with a spatula. Using a fork, make decorative peaks; sprinkle with remaining 1/2 cup cheese. Bake until topping is browned and filling is bubbling rapidly, about 20 minutes (if topping and filling were chilled, increase to 35 minutes). Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Meet our little shepard below-

Pinterest's Energy Balls-

1 cup (dry) oatmeal (I used old-fashioned oats)

2/3 cup toasted coconut flakes (I despise coconut, so this was omitted for my balls;)
1/2 cup peanut butter (I used natural peanut butter)
1/2 cup ground flax seed or wheat germ (I used whole flax seed and it was fine)
1/2 cup chocolate chips (optional)
1/3 cup honey
1 Tbsp. chia seeds (optional)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
Directions-Stir all ingredients together in a medium bowl until thoroughly mixed. Let chill in the refrigerator for half an hour. Once chilled, roll into balls of whatever size you would like. (Mine were about 1" in diameter.) Store in an airtight container and keep refrigerated for up to 1 week.
*Makes about 20-25 balls.

These are awesome of a quick snack on the go! *Warning, they look like meatballs so warn those that live with you. You do not want to throw these guys on spaghetti!



Tex-Mex Homemade Pizza- (Note: I eyeball this and don't use measurements)

1 pre-made crust (whole wheat or original)

BBQ sauce- enough to cover the dough, but I don't do it too thick as it's not the star of the show

Shredded or diced chicken

Corn- uncooked

Black beans-uncooked

Tomatoes- I just dice up half of a fresh tomato

Onion- I usually dice up a red onion

Fresh Cilantro- This is my favorite part so I add quite a bit

Shredded Cheese- Again, I want this to be on the healthier side so I don't use a ton.

*Throw it in the oven at 425 for between 10-15 minutes. Delish and easy.

 

I was too excited to dig in on Saturday night that I forgot to snap a photo. Trust me though, it's pretty and tasty.

 

Anyone have any recipes worth sharing?

The Year of Love

I am officially declaring 2013 the year of love. There is something sweet in the air so take a big ole whiff!

For the hubs and me, last year was our year of love, but in 2013, I'm so content to be an innocent bystander and champion for all of the celebrations around me.

With a slight sense of déjà vu, we'll get to witness 3 babies come into this world and grace our friends with their first born, AND we'll watch 3 friends marry their best friend this fall. My husband asked me while we were talking about the travel plans we'd need to make for the festivities "man, are we 24 again?"  He was right and let me tell you, feeling 24 again feels amazing! I love it! I love that there are a few of us who had to wait a little longer than our peers to find the right one, and now we get to do it together in a wave. It's kind of invigorating for some reason. No man left behind!

And thanks to this year of love, we'll now have 3 weddings to travel to between September and November, all of which are in Charleston. High fives for everyone!

AND, if that isn't wonderful in itself, two of the new babies will be gracing the arms of some of my closest friends in Charleston. And these babies have been fought for, prayed over, waited for, and dreamed about before they were a reality. Now our high fives shift to champagne popping (for me, not them, of course. Pregnant, remember?). Not only will I get to celebrate my friends as they exchange vows, but I'll get to snuggle and spend some QT with these new little babies in between doing the Wobble and Cupid Shuffle.

If you're out there in Blogland and awaiting some much needed love, whether it's in the form of a soulmate or your first little one, keep doing what you're doing. This year seems to hold a lot of promise for those who aren't afraid to wait it out, pray, continue going through the motions when it seems like nothing will ever come of those motions, etc...

2013 just might be your year. I, for one, am praying that it is!

PS...If you're a future bride contemplating doing a bouquet toss and garter toss at your reception, skip it. We decided to not put our friends through the ritual and 3 of our bridal party members are now engaged and tying the knot in 2013. You're welcome;)

Spring is Dead. Winter Killed It.

For the last few months, I've been like a school kid all over again. I've stared out my office window and marveled at the beautiful snow flakes when they'd start to fall. I'd text my husband "have you looked outside yet???!!" You would've thought that I'd grown up in the south and had never lived in a winter wonderland before. The hope of snow days was an excitement that I hadn't felt in a LONG time and it was thrilling.

When my friend was here visiting I shared with her that I wasn't ready for the snow to melt. I almost felt a little twinge of sadness when the height of the snow banks would sink gradually. I wanted more. Bring on another blizzard!

Well apparently I was smoking crack because I am O.V.E.R this white stuff. I'm not really sure what flipped a switch in me last week, but the sight of cold, windy flakes make me want to vomit hot chocolate all over everyone. This chick needs some green grass PRONTO or someone might get hurt. I have a shovel and I'm not afraid to use it!

Seriously, I feel like I'm one flake away from Tim coming home and finding me frantically and hysterically shoveling our massive driveway through tears, while chugging straight vodka and screaming "It's is NOT the most wonderful time of the year!! It's NOT the most wonderful time of year!!" One flake away, I tell you. Tim, consider yourself warned. Hide the vodka if we own any.

And to make matters worse, yesterday during a little Pinterest time, I saw that a friend had posted a link to "10 Natural Alternatives to the Most Prescribed Medications". Awesome, I thought, so I clicked my way through to the article. Seeing a natural way to cure anxiety and depression among the list, I thought "yes, perfect for my seasonal blues while I freeze to death awaiting spring". I kid you not, Pinterest told me to simply "eat more fish and write about my feelings". Wow. I hope no one who truly is suffering from severe depression reads that load of hippie crap. Fish? I'm freezing to death and spring is truly dead and never coming back and you want me to EAT MORE FISH and WRITE ABOUT IT???!!! I think Pinterest and the author of that article over at Women's Health need to eat a boat load of fish themsleves because they are crazy with a capital loony tunes. Xanax=salmon for dinner? Rrriiiiigggghhhhtttttttttt.

So if anyone needs me before, oh I don't know, August maybe, you can find me buried under a snow bank, drinking heavily and eating my body weight in fish.

Grass and flowers and warm breezes, you're dead to me. And I miss you. Please come back. Please. Pretty please with fish sticks on top?

Poppin' Tags

If you are not on board with my friends over at Macklemore, you should be. Period.

Regardless of your stance on thrifting or treasure hunting as I like to call it, their beat is catchy and can make any freezing, snowy day a little more warm and bright when you're breaking it down at a stop light to lyrics like "I wear your granddad's clothes, I look incredible, I'm in this big a@# coat, From that thrift shop down the road".  Hypothetically speaking, of course.

This song is my jam. My apologies to anyone in the car with me when this song comes on. Even if you're in mid-conversation, we're about to dance. My apologies, as well, to anyone next to or behind me at a stop light. My SUV turns into Club Jeep in .5 seconds.

In honor of this sweet, sweet jam, I've compiled a few photos of my thrift shop finds (although I assure you, there are many, many more items in my home that I just can't fit and don't want to bore you with in this post). And much like Macklemore, I do draw the line on certain items when thrifting: swim wear (no way, Jose), unmentionables (aka...undies/fundos), shoes (unless they are brand spanking new with tags) curling irons (ewww), and rugs and bedding. Although, side note, I did rock a thrift store sheet once a year when I'd go to Nicaragua so I could just leave it there, but that bad boy was washed about 5 times ahead of time! Oh yeah, and ask my mom about the time she came to Nica with me and declared "I'll bring you a sheet, don't worry about packing one" and we get to said third world country and she hands me a sheet, wait for it, a fitted sheet. Just one fitted sheet. And that's all I had for a week. Try sleeping like a human starfish with both arms and legs fully stretched out and the elastic corners on the tips of my fingers and toes (option 1) or like a human burrito (option 2) for a week to keep the sheet on your person. Bad, mom. Bad, mom.

Without further ado, I bring you...a few finds of mine:

My vintage bar cart. I love her and with her handy dandy wheels, she will be a mobile bar cart this summer with many trips from the sun room to the patio and back. Boom. I'm toying with jazzin' her up with a new, fun coat of brightness. Just not sure what color yet.

Our entry way bench for snow boot removal (Hold up...who am I? Do I really have an area for snow boot removal now?!) This dude is solid wood. For only five dollars, this bench made me holler. Another  woman stared at it for like 10 minutes in the store, sure enough, the minute she walked away to think some more, I snagged it. You gotta be quick on yo feet to earn yo keep when I'm treasure hunting next to you!

 And of course, this beaut (in my opinion) was a no brainer. Snagged it up for under $75.

Aqua meets vintage curvy legs meets my checkbook and my heart. I heart this chair, I really do.

Original mercury glass is hard to find. I spotted these guys for $2 for a set and they had quickly found a new, happy home with me. I saw similar ones on Anthropologie after the fact for the price of our future first born child.

 My scrolly mirror and blue wall thingy (yes, that's the technical word for it). I recently saw the same exact mirror, cheap plastic frame and all, in a repurposed boutique in town for $59. Even I laughed at that price. I debated for a week before spend $9.99 on this little guy.

This next find is one that not everyone sees the beauty in. I bought it on a junkin' day out with my mom and she looked at me weirdly when I snatched this guy up. Not sure why I love it, but it's an original oil painting that someone had framed and it just makes me happy. Whenever I walk past it, I think of Shem Creek and fresh shrimp and the smell of pluff mud. Love it or hate it, she was mine for $7. I'll be painting her frame white very shortly.

Two weeks ago, this little pink lady came to live with me. She keeps our coffee cozy until its time for it to do its thang. She's retro and pink and mine.

Pig?? What are you doing in this post?!  Just making sure you're all still awake:) Clearly he was not a thrift store treasure, but this sweet pic deserved a public appearance!

Again, the crowd appeal on this tag team is up for debate. I'm not even 100% sure that I love them, and I know the hubs isn't sold on their daily debut in our "beachy bedroom", but I thought they had potential. They were heavy, black iron and at $4 for the team, I splashed on a little spray paint and twine to beach them up a bit and they've done their job until something else woo's me more. In my family, we always teased my grandma for wrapping everything in her house with twine to give it a more rustic feel. She and I shared a proud moment over this little duo and the twine cameo.

Don't love something? Wrap some twine on it.

Boom, yet again.

Well, what are you waiting for?! Grab your $20 and go pop some tags!

And listen to the jam on the way to get your game face on.

A Sovereign Anthem

On my recent trip back to SC and a much needed visit to my home church, my ears were treated to one of Chris Tomlin's new songs and my newest anthem, Sovereign, which was co-written by one of our worship leaders, Martin Chalk. For some reason, seconds into the song, before any words hit the screen or left the mouths of the worship leaders, I felt a peace deep inside. A soothing peace.

Sitting in my new church yesterday, and listening to the message last weekend as well, on how God is greater than our pain, fear and shame, I felt this anthem in my soul again. I felt grateful for its simple, yet promising and hopeful words. I clung to it.

Whatever we're going through, no matter how small or how massive our fears, struggles, battles, changes, and hopes, triumphs, celebrations, and dreams, He is there. And we're in His hands. In the depths and on the mountain tops, we're held by a sovereign Lord.

He gets us when others don't.

He comforts when others can't. Or won't.

He doesn't promise an easy path, but He does promise that we can trust him with our hearts, our hurts, our hopes.

Whatever comes my way, I'm just glad that He is mine. And I am His.