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Just now when I was typing the title "the end of 2012" I already have "trained" my fingers to type 2013...and I "couldn't help but wonder" (don't all good self reflections start with that beautifully coined phrase?) - looking back on the past year I can see a spectrum of two seasons - and what will 2013 hold?I had been use to being in such a winterous season of life that when I looked up in 2012 - all of the sudden I was standing in the throws of spring. Now: Disclaimer. Please read this and know this is my heart writing pen to the paper (hypothetically). I am truly, honestly, 100% hand on the Bible telling you that this adventure called my life has not had one bit of regret. Even in the winters.Because even winter has it's beauty. Even winter has warm days. The growing of every root of every tree happens below ground level - in winter. I am certain every second of my winter(s) have been lived exactly how it should have been. I'm not saying I've been exactly floating along on a cloud eating bon bons...because I really hope you don't see me as one of those people that "everything works out for" and "everything is perfect", dear reader. I have learned over the past 27.5 years that taking it one day at a time is the best strategy I have. Praying daily. Worrying about what I'm already chewing on and trying not to think of my next bite.A few years ago I had this image in my mind. An image of sheep resting in a field. Grazing. Peaceful. I felt like I was not in that field. I was always in the throws of something - not being able to rest. Not grazing. Always struggling and battling. Always doing the wrong thing.And all I wanted was to be a sheep in the field.But now that I am high enough to see why I wasn't in the peaceful grazing field three years ago... it wasn't one thing or another that was "keeping" me from the resting field... that it's all the little teeny things in between here and there that make the pasture I'm resting in now.And I guess where the name for my blog comes from. The teeny tiny things. In life. That make up all the good and the bad. The celebrating of seasons that each have their turn and time.And I'm in my field. And it's spring.

50 degrees.That was the temp in our house as we walked in door on Sunday night.I ran from room to room turning on each thermostat so the house would recede from the status of "ice box" to cozy yellow house on the corner.It was that very same day last year that a freak snowstorm knocked the power out in my neighborhood for 5 days - leaving us shivering under the covers each night with what felt like every article of clothing we owned on and tried to cozy up together under a 3 layer blanket shield.As my bathroom started to warm up and I ran the water hot to get ready for bed I started to think about the stark difference of our two hour drive back from NYC to our thawing home. Dark roads, unlit looming skyscrapers, damp mildewy smelling lobbies, completely empty grocery stores, long lines at gas stations and and threats of freezing temps and a large storm coming in a few days. As I thought of how to prepare my own home, I suddenly felt very fortunate - I have a warm house, warm clothes, food in my fridge and on my grocery store shelves. I am prepared.This past weekend I was in New York City for what was suppose to be the day I'd run the New York Marathon - instead I spent Saturday afternoon with people moved by a grass roots group called Upper West Side Loves. Picking up supplies from Duane Reade, making PB&J's, and grating a large knob of ginger that resulted in a car full of food that was driven down to the Lower East Side neighborhood, in particular to The Bowery House mission.I don't think we quite realize the difference between us & NYC this past week. And now under a layer of snow - 100 miles south of us has transformed into a world we can't imagine ourselves in.But I have hope this week - not about the Presidential election, or about who has won and who has lost - but I have hope that the Body - people - can change lives. That we can come together and help each other in the most basic way - giving. Whatever that looks like for you - I hope that you have hope and give hope this week.

So last week was going along just fine and normal - we celebrated our anniversary, had a friend in from out of town, and I had my weekend run (3 more left!) ahead of me for the marathon. I even had a fancy new blog post idea waiting to be typed out for the weekend.Then came the rain.Like a hail storm, piece by piece, it began to rain from the sky. One thing after another was coming down on us bit by bit, and it got cloudy and dark at the Sturdy house. Then, like those summer storms, it just stopped. The sun came out. And now we wait.The only thing I feel is coming to me and I'll tell you as well - keep walking.I keep getting this image of calm and peace, and walking. Heel to toe, heel to toe.To not disrupt anything, to not stomp through all the areas of our life that are spinning.But just to keep walking. Through the phone calls. Through the tears. Through the ups and down, and new news and old news. Keep walking.

October 11th, 2008.At the end of the long, blue stone aisle lined with perfectly bunched candles and 125 of our friends and family was the man I have had the honor of calling my husband for the past four years. He is tall, kind, loving, protective and I would not want any other person sharing the blankets with me every night from here until the end.I have been thinking a lot about what we were doing in preparation for the big day - picking up the flowers, table clothes, deep dish pizza (for the rehearsal dinner...come on - we're Chicagoians!), and even squeezing in a "Last Single Girl" sushi dinner with 15 of my closest friends two nights before the wedding. But nothing can prepare you for what's on the other side of "I Do" - grad school, late nights of washing dishes, the well timed (ha!) argument before bed, days of loving your job, days of hating your job, car trouble, a (half) cross country move, making new friends together - and most importantly finding that your best friend is indeed the one next to you every night.I was just texting with a girlfriend from highschool who's about to get married in a few weeks (congrats Brittany and Joel!) - and it made think back to the beginning of all this. Through all the messy, ugly, beautiful, and raw moments of the past four years, I am cherishing the past 365 the most. In moving from the midwest, and feeling I was losing so much love from friends and family, I found that I gained all that back and more in my marriage.So here's to our wedding day - for each bite of that delicious cake, each silly dance with my sisters and mom, for my last dance with my dad and my first with my husband. To loosing the confirmation papers for our hotel on the way to the honeymoon. To eating a room service midnight snack of chicken fingers and burgers at the end of the long day.To year one - the experiments in the kitchen, making new friends, starting new journeys in grad school, and to learning how each other grieves, celebrates, rests.To year two - to feeling like "we've got this down"...and finding out we had it all wrong, to finding our Chicago sweet spots, for friends babies that became nieces and nephews, to our last summer in the midwest.To year three - the hardest of them all. To moving, to exploring, to lots of tears, to learning even more about each other.To year four - to discovering, to settling in, to excelling in jobs, to friends who move away, to renewed joy in our home.In honor of our anniversary - I'm giving away two couple portrait sessions - one in Connecticut and one in the New York City/Rhode Island/Massachusetts/southern New Hampshire area! We have been so blessed by having amazing photographers document our engagement, wedding and life-after-wedding - I want to give back!How to enter:1. Like "Alicia Sturdy" on Facebook (*if you share the link to my blog you'll get an extra entry!*)2. Go to the "Say Hello" page on my website (www.aliciasturdy.com) and send me a note - Tell me about a special place you have with your significant other. A favorite restaurant? The shoreline? Central Park? Under the boardwalk (yea yea!)?3. Please be sure to include your location (there's a box for that!)All entries must be submitted by October 21st, 2012 at noon (eastern time). One entry will be selected from Connecticut, one entry will be selected from the other area's listed above.Winners announced on October 22nd!Session must be redeemed by January 31, 2013.*First photo- our wedding by Mallory Nelson - October 2008.*Second photo- our Goodbye Photoshoot with Erica Rose - June 2011.

What does it mean to really be fearless?Taylor Swift sings about it, Alton Brown declared Marti Duncan (season 8 FNS...yes, we're obsessed) - FEARLESS. But what happens after the jump? After we ARE fearless...does the fear go away?I have this need deep down to be fearless.About what, you might ask?Fearless about being myself.If you're a regular reader (all 10 of you), you can see a vein running through my previous blog posts, Who am I? What do I want to be? Who am I made me to become right now?I have been doing freelance graphic design here and there for the past 5 years - that's what my goal in college was to do. Don't ask me why I chose Graphic Design as a major (sorry mom!)...after a lot of thinking I have rested in the fact that God totally took control of my life and decisions and some how I decided I was going to study Art, not music (which had been my goal my whole life). So fast forward 9 years after that decision and I'm here, working in full time ministry doing a little design here and there at work and some freelance work.And I'm just done trying to do art "for the money".I want to do it for the love of art.I want to be fearless about who I am.About my art.Fearless about what others might think.Fearless about failure.Fearless about success.So after many quiet hours of thinking, discerning, talking it out with the Mr. and a few trusted sources I have decided to embark on something new.www.aliciasturdy.comThese are the gifts I was made to bring to the table right now in my creative expression. Please hear me, I'm not quitting my job or dropping everything to grab onto this dream. My life with remain normal (I am liking my life! There is nothing wrong with it!) except for the fact that I will be doing life with a camera in my hand. A rainy Saturday morning in your kitchen with your family will tell a story - so will a wedding, a baptism, a love story, a new baby - it will tell your story.If you feel you're jiving with me - spread the word. My friend has decided to live fearlessly. She wants to capture your life - all the nooks and crannies of it. She wants to start a fearless movement - be who you are in front of my camera, fearlessly.

Then there was silence.Silence to sit. Reflect. Hear God. Absorb the moment.To ask God, what do you want me to do.And He said, "Just be."Sit still. Listen. Rest. Reset. Realign. Stretch. Breathe.What if we just rested, absorbed the moment we are in and drink deep. It might be painful, it might be full of joy, it might be rejuvenating like the first drink of water after a long, exhausting run.And in the silence, peace. Whatever shape that comes in. Even if it doesn't look, feel, or sound like peace you're familiar with - rest.The more I seek you, the more I find youThe more I find you, the more I love you. What if peace is seeking you? What if you're running? What if when you stopped, just to be - you stopped long enough for peace to find you. Engulf you. Overcome you.We want to always be going, be doing,To the next thing, place, destination, job, thought, person. Stop seeking, and just Be. Just be who you are, what your are. You.Rest. Be.Stop. Listen.

City love.In my About Me post, I mentioned I was soulfully born in 2003 - but I want you to know this has nothing to do with my relationship with the Lord, or Soul music. But it has everything to do with that first shift inside of learning more of who you are.My first city memory was when we were little, we use to drive through Chicago on our way to Florida for our family vacations. Sitting in traffic in the Loop on 90/94 I asked about the big buildings with all the windows busted out. My dad told me they were apartment buildings and that people lived in them, little kids like me (maybe I added that in my mind). I was mesmerized on so many levels - looking back I think that was my first interaction with urban poverty...right there from the comfort of my family vehical. I felt grateful that I did not live there.Fast forward 10 years - I am navigating for my mom as we are driving in downtown Chicago for the first time. I thought we had driven into a construction site (really - how would that happen?) but we were driving under the El on Lake Street. This is when I discovered my sense of city direction. I am reading street signs, navigating on that little map she gave me and we arrive at our hotel. We walked to get pizza after and I went to take pictures with my camera of the Chicago Theater. Looking back, my mom was terrified (maybe?) to be walking the streets of Chicago at dark, at 10pm. I don't remember being afraid - I was excited. I wanted to soak it all in. The lights at night, the people, the possibilities for adventures. I felt grateful that was going to live there.Over the next 8 years, I dove right in. And what I mean by dove in, I mean I dove "the exact same way a cartoon circus performer dives off a high platform and into a small cup of water, vanishing completely" (via). I took the el for fun, I would wander downtown for hours, I would get off at a random train stop and explore. I commuted to work on the El, the Clark bus, Lake Shore Drive. I trained for two marathons in our grid of a city, explored every combination of streets to run, parks to stop for a drink of water in, and Starbucks bathrooms. I was a nanny in my "gap summer" between college and "adult life" - I saw homes that you wouldn't believe. Wealth you wouldn't believe. Once I got my adult job, my office was in the John Hancock building. 9 months later, our new office space was ready for us and we moved to Cabrini-Green. Talk about seeing all aspects of the city. During my time there, my job was in Urban Outreach. I walked through Cabrini on my way to and from work, made friends with the people that crossed my paths. I worked with different non-profits for one project I had. I'd drive from Albany Park to Lincoln Park, to Garfield Park, to Little Village, to the South side. I learned the city - it's people, it's rhythm, it's smells. I felt grateful for my experiences there.Last June with all our belongings in a giant metal box, we got in our little Chicago-Craigslist car and drove to Connecticut. I strained to see the skyline in the rear view mirror as we sped down the Dan Ryan Expressway until all I could see was road behind us. We arrived in Connecticut on a Thursday night, and went out for Thai food. I felt disconnected inside, my power plug of energy - that rush I got from my constant urban exposure, was gone. The first day Andrew went to work I dropped him off and started driving towards the sign that said N.Y. City. It's almost as if the car drove itself, found free street parking, and ejected me right there on E. 73rd street. But this wasn't my city - this was a whole new ball game. Of fast driving taxis and crowds of tourists and a confusing subway system. A city grid that I didn't know. And yet I walked. Walked 30 blocks just soaking it in. I ate lunch by myself, with this giant goofy smile the whole time - practically jittery from my urban high like when you drink too much caffeine. But it didn't matter - I was there. Recharged. Ready to feed me again. Even now, a year later - every time we step out onto a city sidewalk for another journey in New York, my body relaxes, feels at peace. The honking cabs, the crowds of people, the smells; they almost envelop me like slipping into a bubble bath. Every time - I feel grateful.But now I see - it's not just Chicago. It's not just New York. It's what my soul has become because of these places. I have discovered this new season of life we are in has granted my 'city soul' a wonderful gift - the gift of finding "the love of place" all over again. The gift of understanding you learn to love a place by investing in it. The gift of seeing "city love" in any place, especially where I live right now. I feel grateful that God has brought me here.

My husband is a movie lover. All things movies, he loves. He is even one of those people who goes to the movies by himself (I shouldn't make fun of him, I am one of those people who eats alone at a restaurant). One of the movies he loves (don't judge) is Just Friends with Ryan Reynolds. It. Is. Ridiculous. But - so quotable.One of my favorite, most quoted clips from the film is when Anna Faris sings a song called "Forgiveness". It's hilarious and just plain silly, but something about it today has one line stuck in my head.Forgiveness is more than saying sorry.I just came out a season that was hard on my soul. I felt I was wandering, reaching out to grasp whatever thought, idea, identity seemed to be "right", and ended up not lost, but wandering. As I move farther away from that time, and thankfully have had friends to ask me the right questions (at times hard questions) - I have done a myriad of things in the name of "forgiveness". I have confronted and emailed those who I have felt hurt by, those whom I've hurt, I have journaled letters never sent, I have asked God to please help me "get over" feeling the anger and frustration I had. But yet, at the end I still felt "wronged".How did I get here? And where is here? I hadn't really moved. I have gone through the steps, the motions of forgiveness. I was trying to fake it til I made it for crying out loud! Why was I still so angry?And then one Monday morning, I was talking on the phone to a dear friend who has walked along side me through this, and she said a simple statement - "I think you just need to forgive."Although she has said this to me 100s of times, I know the Lord put my heart in a place where I could truly hear it clearly. A place where I could understand forgiveness is more than an email, more than "still being right", more than feeling justified. Even now, my phone just lit up with a text message from a girl in our youth group at church. It was one of those chain text-message pictures people send around, but I couldn't see the picture clearly, only the word "Forgiveness" light up on the screen. The first thought flashed through my head, "WHO can see my computer?! That I'm about to write this!?" Nobody of course - but I'm going to take that as one more little sign from God that this truly is the right road to keep traveling. That I have truly forgiven not only in my head, but in my heart. And I need to continue doing that not just today, but every day.No matter the history, no matter the hurt. Without looking back, forgiveness means letting go. Giving it over. And moving forward.

I frequently find myself thinking this exact phrase over and over. "I want to be so many things".

In my lifetime, I have probably dreamed that I could be at least 100 professions. Oh ya, here are just a few. Starting from the beginning but in no real order.

Teacher. Ballerina. Book Store Owner. Librarian. Writer. Basketball Player. 4th grade teacher. Music Teacher. Art Teacher. Band Director. Choral Director. Singer. Graphic Designer. Corporate Graphic Designer. Freelance Graphic Designer. Graphic Designer at a Missions Agency. Youth Pastor. Worship Director. Professional Counselor. Photographer. Artist. Art Historian. Art Gallery Curator. Hair Stylist. Professional Blogger. Etsy Shop Owner (yes full time, yes I have thought this). Mom. Missionary. Customer Service. (Ya, not sure where that one came from.) Outreach Coordinator. Church Communications Director. Paperstore Owner. Stationary designer. Professional Pinterester. *Don't we all? Chef. A real one. Bakery Owner. Ice Cream shop owner. (with my sister, Kaylee) Really good home cook. Food Blogger.

Ya some are very specific (Etsy Shop Owner? Seriously?) and some are pretty broad (Graphic Designer...technically I could be an "Etsy Shop Owner" and an "Artist" and a "Paperstore Owner" and still be just called a Graphic Designer). Sometimes my head just begins to race with thoughts, I want to be so many things! I want to do so many things! And of course, I want to be good at them. I just don't want to "do" these things, I want to do them well. And I want everyone to know, that I "do" "this" well.

Shauna Neiquest posted this the other day and I felt one stanza sting deep.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Ouch. She's so right. Right now, my job is Office Manager to East Coast Conference (of the Evangelical Covenant Church, too long to say, but it has to be said for some people who don't know what "East Coast Conference" is). Ya, not a very glamourous job description. Not as good sounding as "Director of X" or "CEO of Y"...but the line "however humble" brings me back down to it doesn't matter what I call what I do.

I'm in the business of God's Business - Knowing & Loving People. No, I'm not a pastor giving much needed wisdom or some profound blogger (well, this is a blog; and this thought might be profound?) but I feel called to people. However Humble a profession I find myself in. I'm in the business of People. And how God does his business with people? Love.