we gettin there

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to have a grownup dinner party. I used to warn my friends in college: When we're grownups, don't make plans for New Year's Eve. I'm having a fancy party.

And although I still don't consider myself a grownup (will I ever?), last night Melissa and I hosted our first sit-down dinner party.

One of the many things I love about my dear roommate is that she's always up for anything. So when I woke up one morning a few weeks ago and said: let's have Friendsgiving this year. She said yes immediately and within a few hours, invites were sent and we were in full planning mode. Why hesitate?

Last night, our friends came together, turkey and sides in hand, for a Friendsgiving pitch in. Melly and I were adamant about all 25 people having a seat - we had a vision and that vision was a family dinner. Not everyone knew one another, but by the time the first glass of champagne was gone and the food came out, there were no strangers.

We promised turkey & toasts, so turkey and toasts they got. I can't say the toasts were exceptional, but our friends still cheersed like good friends do.

We talked and had turkey and laughed. We ate yummy sides and desserts and laughed lots more. My heart was filled to the brim as I looked around and saw new and old friends talking - real talking, getting-to-know-one-another, heart-to-heart talking.

Something I've learned and hold most near and dear to my soul is the idea that we're never alone in this world and, when it comes down to it, all we people are pretty similar. Last night, seeing a hodgepodge of friends come together, my heart ached with happiness. As far as I'm concerned, the best thing we can do is get to know people more deeply and love one another better. And as I watched new connections being made, I was grateful for the way Atlanta is becoming a real community and starting to feel more and more like home.

Happy Friendsgiving!

what i learned during my break from dating

November 20, 2013 Whitney Saxon

It feels like a lifetime ago that I told you about my five week sabbatical from dating. And, if I can say this without sounding too dramatic: it has been life changing.

Let me be clear, here. I wasn't fending men off with a baseball bat. I was asked on exactly two dates during the five weeks, during one of which I already had plans and the other of which I explained (verbosely) about my hiatus.

I'm nothing if not smooth, right?

However, regardless of whether or not men sought after my heart during the break, God most certainly did. The five weeks were some of the most transformative I've ever experienced. They were followed by Uganda and together the pair left me wrecked in the best way possible.

Here's what happened:

1. I stopped caring about what I wear.

Sure I still love clothes, but for the first time ever I didn't think twice about wearing something bold for fear of not being asked out. I rocked my Teva's. I wore scrunchies. I ran errands without makeup. HECK the day before Uganda I went to the bank in tevas, no makeup, a scrunchie AND a Lands End fair isle black, teal and purple youth sweatshirt.

Is this extreme? Yes. Am I dressing like a hooligan? No. Well, mostly no. But I am dressing for myself and not with the hope of meeting a guy.

Which leads me to...

2. For the first time in years, I feel so fully like myself.

I have a constant anthem playing in my mind that my husband will love me for me - the honest, full, joke-making version of myself that I once only showed close friends and family.

3. I do things I want and I don't do things I don't want.

Mainly, I don't go places with the hope of meeting my husband. I stopped looking for him at Whole Foods. And it has translated into other areas of my life, too. I don't say yes to plans I have no interest in doing. I learned to say no. Gahlee it only took 27 years.

4. I don't care when I get married.

Are you shocked?

Me too, y'all! But I mean it. Do I still want to get married and have kids? Of course. But I fully trust, without a doubt, that God hasn't forgotten me. He's working on my heart. There might be more work to do before I'm ready. And I'm ok with that. He knows what's good. He knows I want lots of kids and we've got a deal that I'll be given triplets if time starts ticking to quickly.

I'm kidding.

But seriously, stranger things have happened and I don't need to panic or control things. God has it covered.

Also, I'll just steal my sisters' babies if it comes down to it. They're basically half mine anyway as their aunt.

I'm kidding again. (Less so this time though.)

When I was in Africa, one night after dinner Bob Goff and I were talking and he said:

Whitney, whatever you do, don't settle. Just run as fast as you can toward what you want, and if you find a guy that can keep up, let him run beside you.

So I'm just running. Teva's and all.

5. I now understand that I was idolizing marriage.

Or rather, the next phase of life. That house-buying, being in love, honeymoon taking phase. But now I see that I can't put that phase before God. He is bigger and better than that phase and when the time is right, I'll get there. For now, I just have to pursue a relationship with Him and live the best life I can.

SO. With all of that to be said:

If you're thinking you might be obsessed with dating/finding your husband...

If you're the girl that, every time a friend or coworker mentions "her brother" you have to restrain yourself from not asking immediately:

Is he single!?
If you stalk boys in the grocery store...
If you wake up wondering what you can do TODAY to find your husband...
If every night you pray and tell God come onnn don't you see I'm ready!?

Maybe you want to consider a little break? Or email me! I'm happy to give more detail on my experience.

All I know is that two months ago I was panicked about turning 27 and being single, and today I feel like I'm watching a movie. I'm just going where I want, wearing what I want, and watching God do the rest. With popcorn, of course. Gotta have snacks.

Happy Wednesday friends!

life and jell-o

November 19, 2013 Whitney Saxon

Have you ever seen My Best Friend's Wedding? It's one of my favorites. I love it when Julia Roberts and Cameron Diaz are talking and Julia tells her: Suddenly, Michael realizes, he doesn't want Crème Brûlée...he wants Jell-O. And Crème Brûlée can never be Jell-O. YOU can never be Jell-O.

I've always loved that line, but I've loved it even more recently. Because lately I feel like I don't really know what I want. I feel like I've wanted Jell-O most of my life, but now I'm not so sure. (For the record, I like neither of the two desserts, but for the sake of the metaphor, let's press on.)

image - can't find the original. anyone have it?

Ever since getting back from Africa, I've had this incessant ticker, running questions in my mind: Am I doing what I want with my life? Am I taking enough risks, pursuing big enough adventures? Do I really want to go there? Try this? Am I happy in my job? With this friendship?

And on and on I go.

For most of my 20s, I've ebbed and flowed between both extremes. Weeks and weeks go by where I'm thrilled with life; absolutely loving what I'm doing and where it's headed. And then I'll suddenly wake up one morning with 1,000 questions for that day - unsure of what, exactly, I should really be doing. But ever since returning, I can't quite calm my mind - constantly evaluating, wondering.

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For as long as I can remember, I've wanted a husband and five babies and a house like the one I grew up in: the front door constantly flying open with friends and dear family, never locked. The kitchen table loud and rowdy. Weekends busy. Mornings happy, filled with the smell of coffee and the Jiffy blueberry muffins my mom made.

But lately, I have felt the need to question ev.ery.thi.ng. Do I really want that? Do I want to follow the road I've planned, meeting my husband, getting married, buying a house and having babies? Or, instead, should I just totally go off the track?

Move to Africa and adopt a bunch of babes there...

Hike the Appalachian trail and write a book along the way...

Get certified in yoga and teach on the beach...

Become really good at rock climbing and just climb and camp in Wyoming...

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I'm telling you. My mind is moving 1,0000 miles a minute and absolutely nothing is safe. Nothing is off limits. It's just a like a brainstorm session in school: every idea is a good idea.

The obvious answer here is that I need to spend some serious time praying about all of these questions. If there is one thing I've learned in the last few years, it's that God is one of details, and if I'm meant to be a professional rock climber (what!?), then surely He will reveal that to me.

But then, there is this other voice in my head saying just do it Whitney. Because if there is one thing Bob preached in Africa, it's that sometimes you just say yes and the details will work themselves out.

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To be completely honest, I think this is less a matter of what I do or do not want, and really more a fear of things spiraling in one direction. I don't want to wake up in 15 years, wondering why I didn't try something crazy. I don't want to wake up someday in a house and feel trapped by its walls, confined by my life.

I want to cultivate a deep awareness for the present, so I never become numb; never too routine. I want to be living an awake life every day, paying attention to details and how I feel.

This is insanely out of character, here, but I've decided to start small. Right now, the answer isn't probably moving to Wyoming, no sir. But the immediate idea is to pursue small, right now adventures. To try new things, be as fearless as I can be and to embrace every opportunity that comes my way.

I'm also keeping my microscope nearby, because I'm examining things a lot more than I used to. Maybe I'm ready for a new church? Maybe I'm growing out of an old relationship? Maybe I just dang don't like the clothes I used to wear anymore?

And that's OK.

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If there is anything I've learned in my 20s, it's that the very last thing we need to do is cling to the past. The past can be beautiful and should be admired from afar. But we can't live in it. Memories can become painful if we let them - if we idealize them, ache for what once was.

No, instead we must look forward. And today, for me, looking forward means living as openly and honestly as I can. It means questioning what I want. It means not being afraid to live and let life happen. Because, as far as I'm concerned, just because Cameron Diaz wants to be Jell-O, doesn't mean I do.