Every day.

After quite a break, I've returned to blogging. I feel like I've lost a little bit of my voice, my creativity, and my propensity for introspection lately; perhaps this will help return them to me? New year, new blog. The old stuff can still be found here because the internet preserves things fooooor-eeeeeeev-errrrrrr (read in your best Sandlot voice, of course).

[Disclaimer] Do not read this blog if you are expecting: inspiring tips on the latest fashion trends and hairstyles, delicious zero-calorie recipes I invented myself, artsy photos with pensive captions, uniquely incredible gift ideas and d.i.y. projects, a preview of the next band-that-is-about-to-make-it-big-but-you-haven't-heard-of-them-yet-because-they-are-still-quite-obscure-which-makes-me-awesome-since-i-already-know-about-them-and-i'm-actually-going-to-be-disappointed-when-they-go-mainstream-because-i'm-hipster-like-that, a debate with other readers in the comments section (seriously, unacceptable forum), posts with any sort of regular frequency.

Do read this blog if you want to join me in developing a grateful heart and a thirst for adventure. In the 365 days of this year- or however many I am granted- I want to learn to be content (or at least make some headway in that pursuit). Inspired by recent reading and discussion with friends, I'm beginning with a focus on being thankful and looking for adventure in the little things. Every day. Every day is a blessing and every day can be adventure, we just have to choose to see it that way. I want to choose to see it that way. Please know that I am not intending to come across as trite or optimistically cliche here. Believe me, I get that life is tough... I work in a children's hospital surrounded by some of the sickest kiddos in the country on a regular basis. 2012 was a rough year for me, and yet I realize my hardships and obstacles were trivial compared to those faced daily by so many. I'm going to let Ann Voskamp interject here because she so eloquently completes my thought...

I know there is poor and hideous suffering, and I've seen the hungry and the guns that go to war. I have lived pain, and my life can tell: I only deepen the wound of the world when I neglect to give thanks for early light dappled through leaves and the heavy perfume of wild roses in early July and the song of crickets on humid nights and the rivers that run and the stars that rise and the rain that falls and all the good things that a good God gives. Why would the world need more anger, more outrage? How does it save the world to reject unabashed joy when it is joy that saves us? Rejecting joy to stand in solidarity with the suffering doesn't rescue the suffering. The converse does. The brave who focus on all things good and all things beautiful and all things true, even in the small, who give thanks for it and discover joy even in the here and now, they are the change agents who bring fullest Light to all the world. When we lay the soil of our hard lives open to the rain of grace and let joy penetrate our cracked and dry places, let joy soak into our broken skin and deep crevices, life grows. How can this not be the best thing for the world? For us? The clouds open when we mouth thanks.

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. [Philippians 4:12-13]