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Tag: showing up

I’m not okay and I bet you aren’t either

This site is supposed to be a safe place where we can bear our hearts to each other, lift each other up, comfort and encourage one another. And as the Chief Cheerleader, it’s my job to create that space. It’s my job to start the healing with confessions of my own, with honesty, vulnerability and brokenness. It’s my job to talk about hard things and share how I find joy and hope in any situation.

And I’ve been silent.

I’ve been silent because I simply didn’t have the words. The news of the world had just become too much. I was left stunned and broken and completely mute.

Until last night.

Sometimes it's the littlest things that mean the most. Over the past few months, simple moments of kindness have gotten my family through a lot of muck and mire. I've started and stopped writing this post 10 times now (Wordpress keeps count) and I'm still not sure I have the right words to express my gratitude. Let me begin by telling you a little about the amazing ways people loved us with their actions.

Kindness and thanks

April 21, 2016 / Jenna / 0 Comments

Sometimes it’s the littlest things that mean the most.

Over the past few months, simple moments of kindness have gotten my family through a lot of muck and mire. I’ve started and stopped writing this post 10 times now (WordPress keeps count) and I’m still not sure I have the right words to express my gratitude.

Let me begin by telling you a little about the amazing ways people loved us with their actions.
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Today on the blog we're talking about friendship and why being Kimmy Gibbler is a good thing. Check out out. #FullerHouse #friendship #outrageouslywonderful

What Full House can teach us about friendship

February 26, 2016 / Jenna / 4 Comments

As I was making dinner last night, I heard Husband watching the trailer for Fuller House and was instantly transported back to the Friday nights of my formative years.

My best friend and I would often watch together, hanging out in her game room with her little sister. We loved the show and how the girls somehow dealt with many of the same issues we did. I instantly teared up, thinking of all the slumber parties, movie marathons and thousands of secrets whispered between friends.

Husband walked in, saw I was lost in a haze of nostalgia and asked if a TV show from the 90s really had me all misty eyed. I choked out, “Val had a little sister and I was the friend that dropped by all the time.” Husband’s response? “You were Kimmy Gibbler?”

I laughed and said sure, thinking I had done a bad job explaining myself. After all, I was trying to explain that the show meant a lot to me and that there were strong parallels with my life at the time. After all, who would want to be Kimmy Gibbler?

But maybe being Kimmy Gibbler wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe it was a great thing.