My six-year-old Maya, probably like most kids her age, is hesitant in trying new things. She’ll hold onto my leg with shy nervousness when meeting someone new or doing something unfamiliar. It’s an area that we are working on together. I want her to feel comfortable taking risks. I don’t want her apprehension lead to missed adventures.
Childhood is a time of wonder and exploration. It’s a time to climb trees and scrape knees. Of course, there need to be healthy boundaries, but as parents we shouldn’t “bubblewrap” their kids. Children who take risks learn how success feels and how to cope with failures. With your help, they will learn how to process all the emotions that risk can bring. And they will learn to persevere.
Soon after Maya turned three years old, we set off on an adventure of a lifetime – a 13-day trip to Italy just the two of us flying Space A (military stand-by flights). It was a risk traveling with a toddler to a foreign country without reserved commercial seats, and as expected it was a rollercoaster of highs and lows.
High: Maya was a trooper traveling by plane. I just had to keep her well stocked with snacks and movies. She even made a friend on the long flight over.
Low: Maya got food poisoning and puked all over a train car of Italians.
High: Even when she was feeling yucky, gelato hit the spot.
Low: Maya slept through some of the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever witnessed.
High: She bounced back, and we rode a bike along the Italian coast.
I hope she’ll remember that trip and that it instilled in her a sense of adventure. It was a bucketlist trip of mine for sure. Now I want to help Maya create her own kid bucketlist – a list that will challenge her, lead her to trust in her own judgment, and nudge her to try new things.
You know the old adage: If you fail to plan, you plan to fail. Well, that certainly applies to eating healthy. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) recently reported that only 13 percent of Americans eat the recommended daily allowance of fruit (1 ½ – 2 cups a day), and less than 9 percent eat enough vegetables (2-3 cups a day).
Additionally, according to Wikipedia, the U.S. accounts for more than a third of the global pharmaceutical market yet we are ranked 33rd on Bloomberg’s ranking of healthiest countries. Something is wrong with this picture.
“Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.” — Hippocrates
There are many reasons to eat healthily; mine are family-oriented. I’m an old momma of young children. In fact, I will be 65 years old when my youngest graduates high school. I want to do everything I can to stay healthy and enjoy these years with my kiddos.
Recently I started meal planning and food prepping. I plan my meals that I take to work for the week (breakfast, lunch and snacks) and prep them in advance on Saturday or Sunday. I like to make dinner fresh each night. Chopping and cooking after a day in the office is therapeutic for me, so dinner is not included in my food prep usually.
I start my meal plan with my recommended daily allowance of fruits and veggies. This single idea is both the secret to my success while contrasting the way I was raised where the meal revolves around the meat. I still eat meat, chicken, and fish, but it’s not the focus of my meal. Breakfast lately is baked oatmeal cups with blueberries and bananas. I love them! I pack baby carrots and hummus for an afternoon snack. Zucchini noodles (aka zoodles) topped with a little pesto are also a new favorite. I bake several sweet potatoes and sprinkle them with cinnamon. Mason jar salads are fun and easy to make in advance.
It takes practice to meal prep. The first time I did it, it took all afternoon. But now I can crank it out in a couple of hours. Planning is key. Give it a try, and then tell me how it went. And eat your veggies!
This month’s theme is RISK. Risk is defined as “exposure to the chance of injury or loss; a hazard or dangerous chance,” and so it often comes with a negative connotation. However, I like to think of risk in a more positive light — as an adventure.
A ship in harbor is safe — but that is not what ships are built for.
John A. Shedd, Salt from My Attic, 1928
Adventures are exciting. There’s a sense of anticipation at the unknown around the corner. Maybe you’ll discover a new favorite place, a new friend, or a hidden strength you didn’t you know you had inside yourself.
Adventures also come with obstacles. Maybe you’ll fall down, experience a loss, or make a huge mistake. But you won’t know if you don’t try. You can’t experience your full potential without the gamble.
Most risks I’ve taken have proven to be worth it. Probably the biggest risk for me was adopting a baby as a single woman at age 40. It was scary, and I had plenty of naysayers. But here I am six years later, and I can’t imagine my life without this precious girl. My life is richer because she is a part of it, and I know she feels the same about me.
What were you made for? What is it that your heart longs for, but you are too scared to try?
Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.
Hi, I’m Stacey Valley, your October Blogger of the Month. Fortuitously, this month’s blogging theme is RISK. My life has been blessed with risks taken and the rewarding adventure that follows. Here are some interesting facts about me:
Interned for my congressman in DC after graduating from high school (1986)
Spent a semester of college at the University of Amsterdam (1989)
Traveled across the US with an acting troupe as a singing/dancing bear (1991)
Worked as a nurse on an Indian reservation in Arizona (2005-2007)
Spent five weeks working as a nurse on the USNS Comfort on a humanitarian mission to South and Central America (2007)
Adopted my foster daughter as a single parent (2010)
Deployed to the Gulf Oil spill Emergency Operations Center in Mobile, AL (2010)
Traveled with my 3-year-old to Italy, France and Germany on military cargo planes (2012)
Married @akvalley (2013)
Graduated with a Master in Public Health from University of South Florida (2013)
Volunteered at a Kenyan orphanage, then went on safari (2014)
Adopted another foster daughter this past summer (2015)
I started blogging at An Awesome & Amazing Life soon after Anthony and I got married to document the new family that we were becoming. Being an interracial, blended family has its challenges, but I’ve been surprised with how easily our lives have fallen into place.
My blog is a hodgepodge of adoption, cooking, travel and parenting posts. I hope you will check it out. You can also find me online at…
In case you’re not aware, there’s a new(?) phenomenon called “adult coloring books.”
Creepy fact: Just now when I went to Google the term to be sure that’s what these books are actually called, I got as far as typing “adult …” when it auto-filled “coloring books” for me.
The book I bought recently, Color Me Calm, doesn’t use that term, but it’s a “national bestseller” and was one of the top hits in my online search. Here’s part of the description:
“Art therapist Lucy Mucklowand artistAngela Porter offer up 100 coloring templates all designed to help you get coloring and get relaxed. Organized into seven therapeutically-themed chapters including Mandalas, Water Scenes, Wooded Scenes, Geometric Patterns, Flora & Fauna, Natural Patterns, and Spirituality – the book examines the benefits of putting pencil to paper and offers adults an opportunity to channel their anxiety into satisfying, creative accomplishment. Color Me Calm is the perfect way step back from the stress of everyday life, color, and relax!”
This is “a Zen coloring book,” according to a little blurb on the cover. Hmm. OK. I guess I could use a little zen, as long as it’s a lowercase zen, right?
When I bought the book from a Books Are Fun table at work, I debated about whether it was a frivolous purchase ($10, no tax).
Spend 10 bucks on a coloring book? For me?
I thought through the reasons not to buy it:
Limited funds, my generally frugal nature.
I try to avoid impulse purchases.
I’m not a kid.
Would I actually color in it?
Then I processed a list of pros:
Stress relief.
Even though I’m not a kid anymore, I’m still a kid at heart and I loved to color when I was younger (er … older, too). (Confession: I’m also “too old” for VeggieTales, but my husband has my full permission to give me the DVDs for birthdays, Christmas and any other special occasion. I will never again be able to hear the story of David and Goliath without thinking of “Dave and the Giant Pickle” – and giggling.)
I’m trying to nurture the artsy, creative part of my brain.
The book contained many beautiful designs.
I could post the “art” online as something different from my usual ramblings; hey, maybe someone will think I’m an artist! (A girl can dream.)
I could count it as “creating content” on one of my Facebook accountability groups.
Stress relief.
Sold.
On my lunch break that day, I bought a set of felt markers, and that evening I started coloring my first drawing.
Here’s what I learned/already knew:
Even coloring someone else’s design can give you a sense of creativity, however small.
Even when you stick to what you know (geometric designs rather than a pastoral scene, a “natural pattern” or a mandala [I had to look that one up]), just the act of picking the colors and deciding where to use them – heck, even gazing thoughtfully at the rainbow of markers in the package – can create joy if you’re open to it. It may not be the Sistine Chapel, but I’ll be happy with a good adult-coloring-book until I can afford a trip to the Vatican. I’ll take anything that helps grow my creativity and use a part of my brain that doesn’t get worked often.
Coloring, painting, needlework, playing a musical instrument – any kind of artistic or craftsy endeavor, including viewing someone else’s completed piece of art – can calm your mind and your body. A blogger in one of my Facebook groups is a sound therapist and uses sound waves to help heal people in various ways.
You’re as young as you feel. For me, coloring, watching cartoons, making up silly songs with my husband, talking to my dogs … it all makes me feel young, even when the mirror tells me otherwise.
Sometimes it’s OK to splurge, as long as it’s not every day and you’re not blowing an entire month’s budget on a coloring book.
The goal of art isn’t perfection. I’m happy to say that my perfectionistic little self-lost most of the arguments with the organized, concrete-sequential part of my brain while I was coloring. I let my markers stray outside the lines a bit; I knew that I was the only person who would care (or notice). And because letting go of perfectionism was one of my goals when I picked up the coloring book, I considered this a win.
Listening to the Arkansas Razorbacks on the radio, when they’re losing a football game, does nothing to enhance my relaxation, even when I’m creating a beautiful piece of art.
If you try hard enough, you can make a blog post out of anything. 🙂
Stopping at 9, instead of trying to make this a Top 10 list, is good practice for a perfectionist.
If you read either of my blogs long enough, you’ll see me talking about community a lot.
The specifics vary, but the underlying sentiment remains the same: God created us for community.
The power of community manifests in good ways and bad. Some recent examples from my life:
The blogger, writer and “create content” groups I’m involved in – groups known for accountability, encouragement, information and camaraderie.
My workplace.
Our running community.
My small group from church – we meet on Sunday evenings. It’s different from a Sunday morning church service … more intimate, family-like, all up in your business (but in a good way). And totally confidential. It’s a safe place to be vulnerable. We laugh, cry, hug, pray, study God’s word, and eat, not necessarily in that order.
A Confederate flag rally outside our county courthouse.
Let me take those things in reverse order.
On a recent Saturday, my husband and I were downtown in Batesville, Ark. (our hometown), when we saw a bunch of Confederate flags being toted down Main Street. The flag bearers were headed for a rally at the county courthouse a block away.
Before we knew it, Bruce was being interviewed by a documentarian, a black man named Gino who had driven up from Savannah, Ga., after hearing about the rally on Facebook. (He’s traveling around the South to these rallies and plans to make a documentary film about them.) Gino allowed me to Periscope his interview with Bruce, and he chatted with me for a couple of minutes on camera. Pretty soon the three of us were heading down the street to the rally.
Being brave or stupid – I’m not sure which – I ended up in the middle of the crowd, iPhone camera rolling. My intent was to ask a question I’ve had for quite some time: What does the Confederate flag represent to you?
Only one person would go on record to answer that question.
I won’t go into a lot of detail because I plan to do that in the next few days on my own blog, after I’ve had time to post the video to YouTube and sort out my thoughts.
But here’s the thought I have today, as I write about community:
I may take issue with the prominence that the Confederate flag has gained in recent weeks (especially because the murders in South Carolina seem to have been the impetus, and the new proliferation of the flags seems to be an act of defiance, of disunity), but those who rally around a flag of any kind – a Confederate flag, a U.S. flag, a Nazi swastika, whatever – are a visible manifestation of the power of community. Likeminded people coming together for a cause they believe in.
Whether you agree with them or not, whether their cause is just or not, you can’t deny the power of solidarity.
My small group (my church calls them “community groups”) met the next evening. It was our first time all together since the start of summer. We had nearly 30 people in the room, many of them new to the church. We did all of the aforementioned activities – except crying – as we mingled in our host’s beautiful home.
Some of us had to sit on the floor, there were so many of us. It was a holy mess of people!
The thing I love about community groups is that we can come together as a holy mess, accept each other, love on each other and have the kind of relationships that offer the tiniest glimpses of our heavenly Father’s love for us. Each one of us is flawed, but we recognize that and it’s part of what makes us a cohesive unit.
In the past year, our group has experienced deaths, births, weddings, job losses/gains, cancer treatments, surgeries, chronic illnesses and everything in between. The sum of our parts is a mosaic, and the picture wouldn’t be complete without any one of its broken pieces. The cement that binds us together is our love for Jesus and one another.
Photo by Travis Hon/First Community Bank. Used with permisison.
My workplace. I love my co-workers, although most of the time I don’t come right out and tell them. We’ve been together throughout all of the aforementioned life events, and we’re there for each other through good times and bad. My workplace is also known for giving back to the community at large, in ways big and small, financially and physically. We show up, and our neighbors notice. I’m proud of where I work.
When I refer to “our running community,” I’m not just talking about the White River Roadrunners in my hometown. Bruce and I have run with people from all over the country. We’ve run in Tennessee, in Iowa, California, Virginia, all over Arkansas, with all sorts of people … including Arkansas Women Blogger chicks. Runners are a special breed (yes, I know, I’m biased), and we have our own brand of sweat-stained camaraderie. It’s as sweet as anything I’ve experienced anywhere.
The photo above was taken Sept. 12, 2013 – five days before I had heart surgery and the last time I was able to run for several weeks. Talk about solidarity, a community coming together to embrace one of its own …
And then there is this group – the Arkansas Women Bloggers network. It sets the standard for all the other blogger/writer networks I’m involved in. Through ARWB and my other groups on social media (and one in my hometown), I’ve become braver, more social, more social-media savvy, more marketing savvy, more optimistic, more ambitious, more inspired, more creative and more productive. And that’s just for starters.
All those things I mentioned about my church group? We “content creators” do every one of ’em. And then we write about it, photograph it, Periscope it, Instagram it and every other thing we can think of to share the love.
I’ve met many Women Bloggers in person – and not just the Arkies – thanks to our annual conferences, and some of the groups overlap on social media, but most of them I know only from cyberspace. That’s OK; in those groups we have our own special brand of camaraderie, and I learn something different from each group and each individual. I wouldn’t trade any of it for a million bucks. (Probably.)
Life in community is so much sweeter than life in solitary confinement. I know; I’ve done it both ways.
So, if you’re hanging around the fringes of this group or any other that’s willing to welcome you but you’re afraid to take the leap, take the leap. Your decision has the potential to grow you in astonishing ways.
And if you fall, we’ll catch you. We have wide-open arms.
I’m a (recovering) perfectionist, an overachiever (at least I try) and a … what do you call it … Type A personality.
So letting myself off the hook doesn’t come naturally.
Fortunately, I have a boatload of good examples to teach me (over and over) the value in taking things down a notch every once in a while, including:
Example 1: I started following Michael Hyatt this year. He has high standards, but with that commitment comes a lot of wisdom about life, about business and about letting the little things be the little things. (Yes, it’s annoying when I see a typo or a missing word in one of his blog posts, but I understand, because he has talked – on his podcast and on his blog – about not letting perfectionism get in the way of getting good work done.) It’s because of his podcast that I keep the phrase #RememberYourWhy at the top of the whiteboard in my office space. I even use it when I log my runs on Runkeeper (especially when I want to stay indoors and be lazy).
Example 2: Reading Kelcie Huffstickler’s recent AWBU recap, Keeping The Most Important Thing The Most Important Thing, came at the perfect time. Lately, I’ve been suffering from a severe case of the Overwhelms, and Kelcie’s reminder about remembering why we do what we do was just the encouragement I needed to give myself a break. Because just a few hours earlier I had made a decision about …
Example 3: I had started a clean-eating plan a few weeks ago, got sidetracked at AWBU, spent the next week staying off track (including cake at my employer’s celebration of a huge milestone) and “recommitting” to the 30-day plan after Labor Day. By the end of that Tuesday, I was starving (because of poor planning the night before), whining to myself about how difficult it is to prepare the right foods when you have practically zero “spare time,” and spending most of the afternoon debating about whether to keep going or “be a quitter.”
I don’t like being a quitter, folks, and my self-talk that afternoon was not pretty.
But finally I realized that several factors are contributing an already-stressed-out existence for this blogger chick, full-time employee, “solopreneur,” mama to two aging and declining dogs (one has developed arthritis on top of the chronic allergies she battles; the other has lost her eyesight), wife of a man with a chronic disease (just when I started telling people he was “pretty healthy right now,” he developed an infection – a week before AWBU), woman with some minor health problems of her own, and a few other too-private – or maybe just too-melodramatic – situations to mention here.
Whew!
So that afternoon I had a dadgum sandwich. With bread. And I decided to delay my return to the 30-day clean-eating challenge for a few weeks. Or months. Or never. Who knows?
Just that one thing – letting myself off the “clean-eating” hook for a while – lifted a giant bolder off my shoulders (and apparently made me a poet).
Those of you who have battled weight problems understand that just taking the eating thing off the table (so to speak) is worth its weight in gold.
(Sorry, bad puns are one of my coping mechanisms. It’s better than eating a quart of ice cream, no?)
Delaying my 30-day challenge doesn’t mean I’ve gone off the deep end and will start eating junk food. I’ve been eating fairly clean for quite some time: fresh, unprocessed or minimally processed, whole, organic foods. But the 30-day plan had me eliminating DAIRY! (I love my glass of milk at bedtime.)
I’ll go on eating a mostly healthful diet, but the pressure to follow the strict 30-day plan was about to put me under the table. (Oops, there I go again!) I am off the hook for the foreseeable future.
So here’s some advice: If you’re thisclose to wigging out about All The Things, give yourself a break. If you can eliminate just one of those things, do it. Most of the world won’t even notice. Be kind to yourself, and, for the love of chocolate, just take it off your plate.
And maybe put a piece of cake on that plate. With a big glass of milk.
“Blessed are those who help the poor” (Proverbs 14:21, Holy Bible).
NUTRITIOUS MEAL FOR 10,000
Ingredients:
1 room big enough for about 100 people
1-2 dozen tables
10-12 sets of scales
10-12 small baskets
Several pounds of rice, dried vegetables, vitamin supplement and seasonings
1 bushel of blogger chicks (plus a sprinkling of stray hotel guests)
Enough disposable hairnets, gloves and aprons for a bushel of bloggers
Sound system with loud, fun music you can dance to
People willing to be silly
1 leader
1 gong
Pouches for packaging 10,000+ ready-to-cook meals
Several dozen cardboard boxes for transporting packets
1 local charity
Directions:
Preheat room with upbeat music, enthusiasm and prayer.
Set up tables, scales, baskets and tubs of dry ingredients. Prepare bloggers and guests by placing hairnets, gloves and aprons on them, lining them up along food bins, weigh stations and packing tables, and teaching them Funnelology 101. Introduce representative of local charity that will benefit from donated food packets.
Encourage volunteers to be silly and have fun, but also let them know the seriousness of their mission: helping needy families have nutritious, easy-to-prepare meals.
Crank up dance music, ring gong and set bloggers/funnelers into motion.
Watch rowdy, lip-synching bloggers funnel meal ingredients into pouches, weigh them and box them in assembly-line fashion.
Package for approximately 1 hour, ringing gong and reporting on status every few minutes (1,000 pouches or so). Listen to cheers, and watch arms wave and fannies wiggle in celebration.
Watch for doneness.
When goal is reached, announce final count, and CELEBRATE!
Clean up mess.
Yield: 8 meals per packet.
If you haven’t heard of the Arkansas-based Pack Shack, visit this incredible organization’s website, get educated and inspired and schedule a Feed the Funnel session for your own group (contribution is 25 cents per meal). Don’t worry if you can’t gather 100 volunteers. Co-founder Bret Raymond says 25-30 people (ages 3 and up) will do. Read Funnelology 101 (link above), talk to your church, your workplace or another organization you’re involved with, and see how big your heart will expand when you give back for such a worthy cause. And I promise you’ll have a bushel of fun!
The meals you pack go to local hunger-relief organizations – perhaps to people you already know.
Our Pack Shack session at the recent Arkansas Women Bloggers University at the Arlington Hotel in Hot Springs resulted in more than 10,000 meals to a local food pantry. I’ll tell you, friends, we celebrated big time!
More than 560,000 people in Arkansas are food insecure. Food insecurity refers to lack of access to enough food to support an active, healthy life. (Source: Arkansas Hunger Relief Alliance)
Arkansas is No. 1 in the nation for food insecurity, Pack Shack founder Bret Raymond told us. (Bret’s the guy you see in the video giving us instructions.)
35 percent of single-mother households – more than one-third of them – are affected by food insecurity, Bret said.
If you can’t host a Feed the Funnel party but would like to help The Pack Shack help others, click here to make a donation, and be sure to spread the word by sharing this post with your friends.
Two fellow Arkansas Women Bloggers get the credit – or the blame – for my leap into the blogosphere in 2007.
At the time, I lived in North Little Rock and went to church with Alison Chino and Sarabeth Jones, two incredible storytellers. I had been stalking their blogs for a while, posting comments while envying their ability to communicate in ways I didn’t possess.
(Photo courtesy of Hatch and Maas)
I’ve always loved to write – edited my high school newspaper, got a degree in journalism – and I had a secret desire to start my own blog. One day I hinted on Sarabeth’s blog that I might be close to ready to leap. Sarabeth’s simple response:
“You are SO ready.”
BOOM.
That tiny bit of encouragement – four little words, from someone whose writing skills I admired – was all I needed.
I was ready.
I was ready to overcome my fear of not measuring up.
Soon after, I launched one of the best adventures I’ve ever been on: Suzy & Spice.
In the nearly eight years since I started Suzy & Spice and then launched a second blog, I’ve learned that comparison doesn’t get me where I want to go. This realization has spurred me to take a proactive stand against that killer of the joy I seek to maintain.
Comparison is much easier to combat when you realize it’s happening.
So I keep vigil. I seek ways to step outside my comfort zone, I pray a lot and I count my blessings. The girl I was 10 years ago, five years ago – even one year ago – is different from the one who just led a session on self-editing at Arkansas Women Bloggers University.
This girl, today, is grateful for AWBU, Arkansas Women Bloggers and the individual chicks who form the collective. They’re a huge reason I can write without fear, grow in knowledge and grace … be myself.
And this group’s existence is one of the reasons I have the courage to admit that my newer blog, launched three months ago today, is not quite the right fit.
It’s OK to admit when something isn’t working and move on.
I’ve decided to return to my roots.
I’m rebranding, relaunching and relearning.
Suzy & Spice will remain; it’s my write-whatever-I-want blog. The new one, to be announced (although I already have a name, logo design and brand colors taking up space in my head), will take me back to when I was a freelance editor, only this time I’ll add the word “writer” to the title.
I came out of the womb a word nerd.
It’s time to let that girl spread her wings and learn to fly again. And the flight plan will be her own, not anyone else’s.
Sunday nights have been set aside. We have stumbled through two years of finding sitters, preparing meals, and rushing {the Marrs’ are perpetually running late, it’s our thing} to show up by 5 o’clock.
Each week, one of us opens our home and the others arrive bearing salad or bread or brownies. The kitchen becomes a flurry of activity and lighthearted chatter as we work around one another reaching for plates, stirring pots of soup, or pouring drinks. We share a meal while catching up on the new home or the teething baby or the teen going off to college in a few weeks.
These evenings have become sacred. We have walked through the storms of life together, we have celebrated together, we have prayed mightily for one another. Within the safety of four walls and these people, tender stories have been shared. We have laughed and cried and sang and rejoiced. These evenings can’t be manufactured. The deep well of friendship that exists among these people, my people, is as real as anything I’ve ever experienced.
Some nights find us watching football or sharing stories that leave us on the floor doubled up in laughter {in my case, I mean that literally. As in, I literally fall on the floor laughing}. Some nights, we sit quietly as one shares heartache or betrayal or fear. We pray. We hold one another up.
During our two-year adoption journey, while our sick daughter was prevented from coming home, these friends carried Dave and I through the pain and the unknowns and the fear. They were our steadfast rocks. I will forever be grateful for the ways they fought alongside us, held us while we sobbed and prayed for miracles.
Here’s the thing: this is special. I get that. This little tribe of ours is unique. Yet, we all need this type of community. When this world gets turned upside down and the noise is deafening, we need to step away from the clamor and enter in to real relationships with real people. We need to sacrifice our time and our energy in order to make relationships a priority. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought it would just be easier to stay home on Sunday night. Yet, every single week, I’m grateful I stepped out of my door and made the time to connect and listen and share. I walk away refreshed for the week ahead.
Jen Hatmaker says it so well in her new book For the Love, “We live in a strange, unprecedented time when face-to-face relationships are becoming optional. It’s tricky, this new online connectivity, because it can become meaningful and true; it has given way to actual friendships I treasure. But it can also steal from friends on porches, the ones who truly know you, who talk about real life over nachos. Online life is no substitute for practiced, physical presence, and it will never replace someone looking you in the eye, padding around your kitchen in bare feet, making you take a blind taste test on various olives, walking in your front door without knocking.”
Please hear my heart on this: I adore this online community here at ARWB. It is meaningful. It has a real place in our lives. Yet, it is no substitute for in-the-flesh friends that we can walk through life with.
Even if it’s scary, invite someone over. Set a day of the week. Prepare a simple meal and connect across the table. If you’re new to your city or town, invite a couple of people that you think would make good friends. There’s no special formula here. Sometimes, the chemistry just won’t be there. Sometimes, the conversation will be awkward and the silences will not be the comfortable kind and that’s okay. Just keep at it. Keep on opening your door and placing food on your table and asking others in. You will find that the effort to make relationships a priority will absolutely be worth it.
And most importantly, be real. Share your heart. Be honest. Be authentic. Don’t try to make a complicated Pinterest-worthy meal or ensure your house is perfect before opening your door. Real is refreshing. Real says, you’re welcome here.
The book I bought recently, 
