Grace in Small Things exists because we are choosing not to allow the noisiness of life to rob us of the time and energy to be mindful of ourselves and those we love and to recognize the grace that exists in small things.

Grace in Small Things

In these last few weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, it seems natural to reflect, and to give thanks for the blessings in our lives. This week I have much to be thankful for…

1. A second blog
I’m recently engaged to an officer in the Army, so I’ve started a second blog devoted to this new adventure I’m on as a soon-to-be Army wife. The blog has been live now for just over a month, and it’s been a source of peace and point of connection for me to other Army girlfriends, fiances, and spouses.

2. New Friendships
I’ve met some great new friends in Colorado since moving here. I feel so lucky to have connected so quickly with some of the people I’ve met here in Colorado. I’m grateful when I’m invited to do things with new groups of people, and it feels good to be building some strong individual friendships, as well.

3. Snow
I like snow, and I live in a place now where I can see it in the mountains nearly every day. The best part? I can see snow in the mountains on days when it’s sunny and warm in the city. How awesome is that?

4. Wool
It sounds silly, but I love wool socks. I’m cold-natured, but they keep my feet warm and dry, even when it’s cold and wet outside.  Smart Wool, I love you.

5. My Yoga Practice
The Bija Studio in Colorado Springs is beginning to feel like my yoga home. I try to take at least two classes there each week, and after two months of regular practice, I can feel myself stronger. Other students have introduced themselves to me, and the teachers have reached out to ask me about myself. It’s nice to feel like there’s somewhere I can go each week to take care of my body, where I am welcomed, and where I know I’ll find an hour of strength and peace.

In these weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, what things are you thankful for?

My 3 Favorite Men & Me at Coors Field, 2011

Since I moved to Colorado in mid-August, he and I have been apart more than we’ve been together. There have been out-of-state military courses, there has been out-of-state prep work for his unit’s pre-deployment exercises (which are coming later in 2011), and there has been time in the field.

In the month of September, we’ll be lucky to have five days together. Last week was a particularly tough week for me – I spent much of it questioning myself, and whether I was strong enough to be on this side of a military marriage.

Through my rough week, I was given several reminders that my life is filled with reasons to be thankful. And so, I dedicate this Grace in Small Things (GiST) post to my new life as a military fiance, and all the little moments of grace I’ve found along the path of this relationship so far:

1. My future in-laws are really good people who have been nothing but wonderful to me. Just when I felt like my bad week was never going to get better, I came home to find that a beautiful, live plant was waiting for me on my front porch.

2. My fiance is patient and understanding, and for that, I feel incredibly blessed. We only had a little over a day together between his field exercise and his training, and I admit that I spent part of it crying. He sat with me, listened to me, talked through my fears with me, comforted me, and told me how much he loves me and believes in me. I am so, so thankful for him, for his insights, and for his patience.

3. I’m thankful for my own family, because when I didn’t know who else to call last week on my worst day, I knew that I could call my parents. So I did. And they were there for me. I’m blessed and thankful for them.

4. My own career is going well. I’m on my way to the 140 Characters Conference: Small Town in Hutchinson, Kansas, today. I’ll be speaking there to 200 or so people in real life and more than a thousand online. My new job is great, and my blog has survived the initial transition from Missouri to Colorado. My own career helps me feel confident, keeping my mind off of Nick’s Army career for most of the day each day.

5. Our new house feels like a home. Even when I’m having a bad day, I know that I get to come home to a beautiful, comfortable, safe place. There are so many people who don’t have that luxury, and I really am thankful that I don’t just have a roof over my head – I have a lovely, comfortable, welcoming home.

As you begin your new week, what things are you thankful for? What moments of grace have you experienced in the last few days? In the last week? I’d love to hear your comments – your words are always encouraging to me.

Because she’s awesome like that, my Mom made sure that I had a hand-made card in the mail my first week living in Colorado Springs. This wasn’t technically my very first piece of mail, but it was among the first pieces, and it made me smile.

My mom is a talented and semi-professional card maker and a very popular paper crafting blogger. Here’s a post she wrote about the card photographed above.

She regularly sends me links to magazines her cards have been published in, and she occasionally teaches classes in Small Town, Missouri. Be sure to visit her blog and leave her a comment if you like her designs. You can find her at Cherish Each Precious Day, and if you enjoy paper crafting or card making, check her blog regularly for freebies and giveaways.

Thanks for the awesome card, MommaGFunk!

MilliGFunk Hiking in Colorado

I’m nervous, excited and sad to share with you the news that my years of blogging from rural Missouri have come to an end. On August 21^st, I’ll be leaving my one-room cabin in rural Missouri to begin a new phase in my life and my career in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

After nearly seven years of work in nonprofit marketing and communications in the United States and abroad, I’ve accepted an offer outside of the nonprofit sector with The CSK Group – a strategic marketing agency in Colorado Springs. I will begin my new position on August 29^th.

Spending the last 2.5 years in rural Missouri was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. In addition to professional achievements as the Marketing Director for YMCA Trout Lodge & Camp Lakewood, I’ve accomplished a lot personally. I’ve strengthened my relationship with my parents, I’ve reconnected with old friends and classmates, and I’ve been given the unique opportunity to explore the places near my hometown in context of the broader worldviews my career has offered.

I’ve been lucky that St. Louis was a social-media literate community in the early years of twitter, location-based social media, QR coding, and now Google +. I started my twitter account, @MilliGFunk, just before leaving Brooklyn, as part of an experiment in whether social technologies could help me feel connected to my friends in other cities.

The results of my experiment were more successful than I ever could have imagined, not only helping me stay connected to old friends, but making it possible for me to quickly network with some of the smartest, most creative, and in many cases most professional people I know in St. Louis. All of this, despite the fact that I’ve lived nearly 80 miles from the city.

I am sincerely going to miss the community I’ve found and the friends I’ve made in St. Louis. Thank you for supporting me as @MilliGFunk, as A Small Town Girl, and as Melissa. My journey over these last few years has been rich, challenging, and deeply fulfilling.

I’m so glad that I embraced rural Missouri and all that it offered me. I hope that wherever your life takes you – whatever ups and downs you experience – you’ll embrace what you have and enjoy the moments that you’re given. It’s amazing how quickly time passes, and it’s a great feeling to move forward with no regrets.

PappaGFunk and MilliGFunk at Busch Stadium

On Friday night April 22, I sat beside my dad in Busch Stadium as we waited for the St. Louis Cardinals and the Cincinnati Reds to take the field. Spring in Missouri often means thunderstorms, and the radar predicted an 80-100% chance of rain between 6 p.m. and midnight. We were excited for a Dad/Daughter date night, though, so the rain wasn’t a deterrent.

Before the Rain

We only made it through two batters in the first inning before the rain began to fall. Fans left their seats seeking dryer places while staff pulled the tarp over the field.

Rain Delay at Busch Stadium

At first, there was just rain and a little bit of lightning. We waited things out beneath an overhang.  The rain continued for more than two hours. At some point during that time, the first tornado siren sounded. The weather radar was shown on the massive screen on the ball field, and a message clearly stated that we were under a tornado warning. My dad and I didn’t get too worked up over the siren.  When you spend most of your life dealing with spring storms, you take their potential power for granted.

Rain and a Tarped Field

When the second tornado siren sounded a little while later, food vendors closed down and fans were asked to seek storm shelters. Bummed that I might not get to eat the baseball stadium nachos I’d been holding out for all evening, I followed my dad into a storm shelter.

While we’d anticipated spending quality time together watching baseball, we found ourselves spending quality time together in a men’s restroom with two dozen or so other fans. Here’s the view from the men’s room where we took cover. (In a very cruel twist of fate, by the way, I had a clear view from the storm shelter of a closed-down nacho stand across the way.

View from the Men's Room

We stuck the storms out, determined to see the Cardinals play baseball before the night was done.  At around 9:00 p.m. the rain had finally let up and the tornado warnings had ended. The stadium staff pulled the tarp back from the field, and by 9:30 we were watching the Cardinals play the Reds.

Removing the Tarp at Busch Stadium

By 10:00 p.m. I had some idea that Lambert St. Louis International Airport had seen damage from the storm, but I really had no perspective on how serious the damage was. I was busy enjoying baseball, ball park nachos, and most importantly, time with my dad. I had no idea that across St. Louis, families were learning that their homes had been destroyed or that their neighborhoods had been leveled by the storms.

MilliGFunk and her Ball Park Nachos

We didn’t get home from the game until the wee hours of the morning, and I didn’t delve into St. Louis storm updates fully until around 10 a.m. on Saturday. I was humbled by the photos I saw of Lambert field, and when I saw the damage done in communities like Maryland Heights and Bridgeton I realized how fortunate my Dad and I, along with the thousands of fans who waited through the rain delay with us, had been.

Last night was a night of Cardinals baseball that I won’t soon forget, but it wasn’t because of Pujols or Rasmus or Holliday. I’ll be hard-pressed to eat stadium nachos or don my Yadi jersey in the future without feeling thankful for the night my dad and I spent standing in safety inside a men’s bathroom at Busch Stadium.

Those same symbols (the nachos, the jersey, etc.) will also remind me how lucky we were to be able to go home after the game on a night when so many other St. Louisans lost their own homes. My thoughts and prayers are going out to the area’s families whose homes and communities were damaged this weekend.

Would you like to help St. Louis tornado victims? Call 866-444-7669 or visit the United Way of Greater St. Louis online today.

Growth isn’t a comfortable thing, which is why I’ve been particularly quiet online in March. It’s hard to write with any kind of perspective on the storms that you’re in the center of. This weekend has provided me with some rest and reflection time, and I think I’m ready to begin sharing some of my March stories with you.

Today’s story is about Wednesday, March 9th.

The places are University City, Sunset Hills and Small Town Missouri.

The leading character is – you guessed it – Me.

Supporting characters include The Bison Rancher’s Daughter and Rosie the Dog.

I had a job interview on Wednesday, March 9th. The interview was scheduled to take place at 9:30 a.m. in Small Town Missouri, and it was a panel interview with my current Executive Director, Associate Executive Director, a powerful board member and the Executive Management Team at the office. I was to present a sales proposal to them before answering their questions in traditional interview style.

I had to work in St. Louis all day on Tuesday, March 8th, so I’d decided to stay at The Bison Rancher’s Daughter’s apartment with her that night to ensure that I got a good night’s sleep before driving to work. My day Wednesday was scheduled down to the minute:

5:30 Wake Up

6:10 Drive Out of U City

6:30 Grab Breakfast & Coffee

7:30 Arrive at My Small Town MO Cabin

7:30-9:00 Final Presentation Run-Through, Get Dressed, etc.

9:30-11:30 Interview

11:30-1:00 National Conference Call of a Work-Related Marketing & Branding Committee I’m Part of

2:00 Leave the Office for…

3:00-5:00 Physical Therapy Appointment in Another Small Missouri Town (1 hour from my town)

The day began exactly as planned, with my alarm clock going off at 5:30 a.m. I hopped out of bed, showered, gathered my things, grabbed Rosie, and headed to my car. That’s when I found this:

6:10 a.m.

I stubbornly pride myself on being able to handle things like flat tires without anyone else’s help, so I put Rosie in the car, popped the trunk and dug for the tire iron and jack. I cranked and cranked at the jack until the car was almost high enough up off the ground for the spare tire to fit when the car suddenly fell back off the jack.

I didn’t put on the parking brake.

I’m an idiot.

Insert expletives here.

The tears and the curse words began flowing in equal proportions as I walked to the driver’s side of the car to put the parking brake on. The Bison Rancher’s Daughter had come outside by this time and was ready to help me. Together, we managed to get the flat tire off and put the spare tire on. It was 7:00 a.m.

Unfortunately though, I wasn’t going to make it 75 miles home on that spare tire in time to change clothes and give my 9:30 a.m. presentation. It was at about this time that my phone buzzed in my pocket. A text message from my Associate Executive Director read, “We’ve managed to push your interview back to 11:00. Take your time and be safe.”

I work with such good people.

Fixing the Flat

The Bison Rancher’s Daughter also had to drive back to Small Town Missouri that morning, so she offered to let Rosie and I hitch a ride with her. We loaded my flat tire into her back seat, gathered Rosie and my things and headed south to our shared small town. I was determined to be positive and have a sense of humor about the day, and I decided that things could only look up from there.

Things are Looking Up

Oh, how wrong I was.

At around 7:30, we pulled into St. Louis Bread Company in Sunset Hills to grab breakfast and coffee for our drive. The Bison Rancher’s Daughter waited in the car with Rosie and Mr. T (her dog) while I ordered our food.

As I walked back to the car I had a moment of what can only be described as complete and utter lack of grace. Both feet became hung up in a concrete parking bumper at the front of a parking space. My body, a bag of bagels, a glass of water and a regular skim latte flew through the air in some cruel choreography of the cosmos.

The Bison Rancher’s Daughter’s glass of water slid through my fingers and flew through the air in front of me. In slow motion, the lid came off the cup, water splashed through the air, and gravity began pulling the cup, the water and the lid back towards the earth.

My body followed, as all of my weight was introduced to the asphalt parking lot via my left kneecap. My priorities in life became clear to me in retrospect when I realized that I had held on firmly to my latte and our bagels, all of which were in my left hand. My left elbow must have been the second place on my body to make contact with the asphalt. I landed on the asphalt with the latte still upright in my hand.

Finally, my right hand and right leg made contact with the ground. The palm of my right hand was sliced open by something (gravel maybe?) and I was bleeding a lot. My jeans were brown and black from kneeling to fix the morning’s flat tire and falling on the dirty parking lot. I couldn’t straighten out my left knee, and I wondered as I sat there, sobbing, if I’d broken my knee.

The Bruise

The Bison Rancher’s Daughter came running from the car to check on me. We sat together, her consoling while I cried, feeling like the world was completely out of my control on a day when I so badly needed to believe that I was the one controlling everything in it.

After several minutes, The Bison Rancher’s Daughter helped me stand up and limp my way to the passenger seat of the car. By this time, adrenal fatigue had set in and all I could do was sit, crying quietly in the passenger seat of her hybrid, Rosie in my lap.

Eventually we made it back to my little cabin in the woods, where I got ready for my interview. When I walked into the bathroom to put my makeup on, I realized that my latte had splashed out of its cup and into my hair, which now looked very 1980s scrunchy and crunchy. My skirt suit clearly showed the massive bruise on my left knee, and there were streaks of blood across my face, presumably from the gash in my right hand.

I washed my face, brushed my hair, applied my make-up, did my presentation run-through, and headed to my presentation and interview. What else can you do beside put on your big girl suit, make yourself look as pretty as you can, and try to pretend that you haven’t just changed a flat tire and fallen on your face in a parking lot en route to an interview for a job you’ve had your heart set on for months?

Grace in Small Things

Some of the little things I’m happy are part of my life this week:

1. Friends who hold me accountable for reaching my potential.

2. Running again post-injury, even if I’m still not 100%

3. Hot tea.

4. The music of Nina Simone. And Bob Seger. And so many other artists.

5. Mail. The paper kind that comes via a delivery person. The kind of mail that shows you a person’s handwriting. The kind that isn’t just a bill or an advertisement, but that someone put time into creating, addressing, and taking to the mailbox.

Yuengling isn’t available to purchase in the St. Louis area, so on my last trip to Pittsburgh – in October of 2009 – I brought back a case of it. As of Christmas 2010 I still had one last Yuengling in the fridge.

You could say it was my emergency beer. The beer that you just don’t drink unless say, the Steelers go back to the Superbowl or you get a mad case of homesickness for your Pittsburgh friends.

My brother, bless his California heart, had no idea that this bottle of beer in the fridge was my last precious bottle on Yuengling. I walked into the family room to see him finishing off the chilled bottle of Pennsylvania goodness, and I nearly wept right then and right there.

Today, my friends and loyal readers, my brother made things right again. The UPS man made it up the still very icy driveway, handing me two large boxes labeled as fragile and containing glass. It’s probably for the best that these boxes didn’t arrive earlier in the week when I was 100% iced into my house.

The Boxes...

My first thought was that perhaps  my brother had sent me bottles of wine for my birthday. Oh, but no…Oh, but my brother is far cooler and more awesome than that. Because what did my brother send me? Just in time for the Steelers to play (yet again) in the Superbowl?

That’s right. He sent me Yuengling. Not just a little bit of Yuengling; 24 bottles of Yuengling Lager and 12 bottles of Yuengling Black & Tan.

I couldn’t control my excitement at this gift. He may not have known any better than to drink my least emergency Yuengling over Christmas, but he certainly made up for it on my birthday. For this petite Small Town Girl, this will easily be enough beer to last me two years.

Because a good Small Town Girl post isn’t complete without pictures of me looking foolish…

Thank you, big brother, for replacing my emergency Yuengling with 36 new ones. I love you!