I suppose I am not so unique. I am not so interesting or out of the ordinary. But what surprises me the most is the unique-ness of those who think of their lives as nothing but ordinary. The ability that one person has to influence and entire generation, the ability that one life has to effect the lives of at least three others in my case. What happened to my family, nothing weird in this age of life, a divorce, has forever altered the path and lives of my mother, me and my brother. And because of that, decided the future of my husband my children and their children.

If not for the tearing of my family, my life would reflect an entirely different lifestyle. I can't say that I am grateful for all that befell us, but I am gratefull for a God that makes all things new.

It makes me begin to wonder, though, about all the children, parents, wives and husbands, who experience the rejection, fear, pain, misunderstanding and confusion of what happens when someone leaves. Death, sickness, age, choice. I feel like everywhere I turn I am met by one of these circumstances that have made a perfect childhood a mess. We are all suffering from some form of these in our family, and the effects that they have brought upon our loved ones. So, do we run, do we wear them as a badge? Or do we simply offer them up as life circumstance?

I propose none of the above. It is amazing to me, so fascinating and an infatuation of my heart and mind to know and love the stories of those around me. And so I propose this. That we love the hurt. That we cherish it as a part of the fall and that we see it as a part of something God will someday restore and make new. That each brokeness is one more chance to love more than we thought our hearts could handle. To know each other in this life deeper than we expected. To rid ourselves of one more pride than we wanted to let go of. Fear has no place here, in these unexpected moments of love and vulnerability.

And it is here that I remember why I am so deeply in love with God's creation, and his plan.

Not as long as I live...

Six years ago I was at a concert with four good friends. It was the summer before college, the whole world lay at my fingertips and I was genuinely smiling. It rained, and we danced. I don't remember a whole lot else from that night, just bits and pieces strung together through my photographs and blotchy memory. But I do remember, it rained, and we danced, and I thought not another summer night could top this one. Not as long as I lived.

Four years ago I was at my boyfriends house. He lived in the country, the sun was setting and the sky was painted with the most beautiful colors I have ever seen. It was rose and gold and orange and the faintest of twinkling blues. The stars were just starting right above a full moon and that boy kissed me. I don't remember a whole lot from that night either, just a photo and the smells of summer in the midwest. But I do remember that moon and the sky, and I thought not another summer night could top this one. Not as long as I lived.

Two years ago I was on a trip with my church. I had grown and had loved every minute, but someone was back home waiting for me. It was humid and smelled of grass, just like every summer in Indiana. We rode a bus home and made bracelets, but when I got off the bus my heart leapt. I felt like all was right in the world because my best friend was there to hug me for a whole five minutes and smile at me. To remind me about love. I don't remember a whole lot from that night, just the bracelets that I still have in my jewelry box. But I do remember the smell of his clothes and the feel of the air, and I thought not another summer night could top this one. Not as long as I lived.

One year ago I got out of bed at 5:00 am after a sleepless night of anticipation, tired but giddy. I grabbed my bag full of makeup, my dress and my shoes, put on a hoodie and had my mom drive me to my friend Claire's house. I walked in to a home full of people I love, the smell of coffee, and the knowledge that in a few short hours time, after pictures and music and lots of hugs, I would be married to the best man I know and the love of my life. I feel like I remember every second of that day sometimes, but what I remember the most is knowing, that truly, not another summer night could top this one. Not as long as I live.

Pirates...

When I was a little girl I wrote a story. It was an adventure about pirates and treasure. Although reading it today I discovered how terribly awful it must be for second grade teachers to try and make sense of the garbled mess that is an 8 year olds story, the praise I received from an extremely boring story still resonates with me today. Why? Because, no one anywhere has ever written that specific story. No one was apart of my imagination in the way that extremely wide ruled piece of paper was.

Don't worry it gets better. The more I reminisce about this story, the more I realize what kind of God I believe in.

I think in all my human small-mindedness I often forget God's big anti-boxable-big-minded-ness. In fact, I will venture to say we all forget about how big God really is. Who exactly am I sitting here trying to define the One beyond all knowledge, love, truth, and life? I mean, I must look like a tiny little ant that is screaming up at a large confused human. Because I would be confused if there was an ant screaming up at me, and possibly a little scared...just saying.

Well, truthfully I don't know. Actually I should broaden that statement. I don't know about a lot of things anymore. I don't even know if I can tell you what it is I don't know. I don't even know if I believe you when you tell me the way things are, or the way things should be done, because, I just don't know about making definite statements about a God bigger than all the Universe. I am beginning to feel like that is a bit dangerous.

I can tell you, though, what I think. Much like my story, much like my unique imagination, God who is the craftiest crafter of us all has us beat at our own game of individuality. He went ahead and made that for us, by creating us all. I guess this is the root of it for me. It pains me to see people stamping out individuality. It pains me to see people striving for "individuality" when they are already beautifully so, but have been terrified by too many people to revel in it.

Don't you get it? God wrote a big story, called redemption. But God also wrote a mini-story. About you. He is still writing it. But it's title is "insert your name here plus me, God, because I am writing it". It is not, "Insert your name here plus everyone else's opinion and ideas about who you should be". Because of that, I am free.

My pirate story will never be a best-seller (sorry to disappoint you). My pirate story may not even make sense to you. But it is my pirate story, and it came from me and the brain God designed knowing one day, it would imagine an adventure about pirates and treasure. And he smiled, knowing, that though no one else may ever care about this story, no one else would ever write one like it. Much like no one will ever write a life story like yours, or mine. So I guess, what I am trying to say, go be your own pirate story and rejoice in the freedom of knowing God wanted it that way in the first place.

Love Cait.

Overwhelmed: bury or drown beneath a huge mass.

I couldn't have said it better myself, dear old friend Webster's. And I am quickly beginning to see that my perception of adult hood, standing in my little patent shoes and pink tutu peering out from childhood oh so many years ago, is flawed and perhaps completely misunderstood.

But even as confusing as this all seems some days, as overwhelming as it is, as mysterious and foggy as my bright little future appears, I know it can all change in a moments notice. And with that in mind, with some hope over the horizen of mystery in the Morgan life...with that in my mind I survive the overwhelming everyday of my own little adulthood.

You are the best thing...

Many moons ago, around this time of year, there was someone in my life who wrote me a letter. It was not the next great american novel. It was not an essay that changed the world as we knew it. It was not even a bestselling book. But, to me, it was like a melody to my heart. And, I do believe, this letter forever altered my life.

"You will probably never know how much you truly mean to me. Words cannot express the feelings that I have for you. Sometimes, I don't even understand it cause it doesn't really make sense...but at the same time it makes perfect sense and it's then that I realize that this is God's plan. Whether we are together forever, or break up and never talk again, I know that I will love you forever."

Eleven months into our marriage, these words still sound like a lullaby. This letter still reminds me of how much God had in store for me, of why I am who I am, and how much I have to be grateful for. This letter reminds me of why I said "yes" and "I do"; and why, almost a year later, I still can't imagine a better man, best friend, or life.

Dear Jared, you are the best thing...

Meet some people that I adore...

There are many reasons, added to daily, why I love this girl. I think this picture captures 99% of those reasons. Dear Anne Wilson, my life would be less funny, sincere, and inspiring without you.

If you don't know her, you probably live under a rock. Stephanie Norwood, the sunshine in everyone's life. Don't leave home without her. Life equals way less love without you. She will support me to the moon and back for eternity...for that I am grateful.

When I am feelin risky and need an accomplice, or when I need some qui

et friend time. Maybe if I feel like dancing, or know I just need to chill...Erin you are a Jack

of all trades. I am pretty sure you defined the words nifty and thrifty. Also...

pretty sure your nick name should be prayer warrior of life...and encourager of all.

But wait! I can't forget this gem! Maria, with your unforgettable dance solos,

amazing creativity, and overall amazing ability to make me feel loved no matter what. What would I do without a little bit of you in my life?

If no one can make me laugh on the darkest of dreary days where razor blades seem to fall from

the skies, have no fear,

Laura is here. But if Laura isn't in town to

lift my spirits, I turn to none

other than Josh Benfo. One classy guy with more jokes than a clown. And a pretty darn awesome friend...encouragement central.

However, I can't forget another class act, none other than Kyle, who not only cracks me up, but is indeed,

an amazing friend to my hubs and me. And his level of obsession with his awesome dog makes me feel a little more normal.

The sweetest most genuine girl I have yet to have met, Lauren Neese. If ever there is an encourager and lover in this world, if ever someone needed inspired to be passionate, Lauren Neese could make it happen. I love this girl...and the fact that she will watch Gilmore Girls with me until it dies.

Last, but not least, you know who it is. No, not Olive. It's the hubs. The best person I know. The most competitive "non-competitive"

man I know. The best dishwasher

around, and my bestie for the restie.

It's been a while...

Honesty is the best policy. Right? Right.

So honesty with yourself should be the bestest policy. Right? Right.

Easier said than done.

Looking in a life mirror for too long made me realize I should stop looking in a life mirror and look in a life window.

See, there are a few problems with a mirror. The past lies behind, but looking at it constantly, all reflect-y and stuff doesn't do anything but form weird regrets. Knowing your past is way different than sitting in a pile of it.

Looking in a mirror really does help you focus, but on the wrong person. I mean, I am not saying don't take a few mirror pitstops along your path. Everyone needs to pause at different times in their life and take a breather. Take a soul searcher. Take a step outside themselves to see who they are, or where they are even headed. But just standing in front of a mirror causes this lovely little disease we all share called selfishness. This trip to selfish-town, that I have taken many a time, takes a new and interesting form where, in attempts to de-flaw your flaws...you end up spending way to much time focusing on you. (there were even way to many "you's" in that sentence...). Been there. Done that. Don't visit that town it wasn't any fun.

Mirrors block what could be. They block the possibility of what God might be showing you. See, God never runs out of patience while He is waiting for us to peek around that mirror and see the beautiful-ness that is His leading. The wonderful-ness that is His ability to fix and flourish the flaws. But we can't see that if we are just standing in front of our sad boring mirror forever. All we get to do is stare at the opportunities that passed us, like a rearview mirror, and then regret it. Lame.

I know I don't want to be a mirror-loving regretter anymore. I'll take a few pitstops now and then, but I think its safe to say I know enough of who I am and enough of who God is, that it is time for me to do some remodeling. Mirror=shattered. Window=open and breezy...