a wild Christmas

I always pick up my book before bedtime like I am going to read it. I get in my bed, open the page then a thought comes to my mind that I feel the need to blog about. I haven't written in a few days so I figured I would try-- again. I don't know if a blogger can have writers block, but I feel like I am there. I of course think about what I would say if I was blogging throughout the day, but when its time to write nothing comes to mind.

I have tried writing about Christmas at least 3 times and its been tough, simply because this year it didn't feel like Christmas. Maybe it was because all of the Hallmark movies that left me crying, or the weather, or maybe it was the promise to not celebrate until after finals. I am not sure which one it was, but something felt different. Maybe its because I am growing up. With growing up comes the idea of starting traditions.  I started one about 4 years ago that I wasn't sure if it would stick, but it has.

Adopting  kiddos off of Mama Tina's Christmas Tree, this is for kiddos who wouldn't necessarily get gifts. I did it the first year with my bosses, the second year with a good friend, and the third year with my family. I usually only take 3 kiddos, one for myself and one for each of my sisters. This year however, I got 7- being that our church started an outreach program I brought this idea to the table. It was okay'd and I adopted 3 for church, 3 for my family and one extra little nugget. Something told me to get one more. Not knowing who would get the 4th child, just knowing that he would be taken care of.  One week later, I had a friend text me to find out information on how to adopt a child.  She said that there were no more kids on the tree at the time, which was such a wonderful thing, but she wanted to have one for her students to help. This is why I adopted the other kid that day. She told me about how her students raised money to provide a Christmas for this sweet little boy. Our church started collecting gifts for the 3 we adopted and my family started shopping. When their name is called you see them jump out of their chair and towards you at full blast. At this point I think I had butterflies as big as theirs. As they get their gifts their faces light up and they smile so bright. It truly is a tradition that I am thankful that was started, I only hope to someday carry it onto my own children lives.

As the festivities went on we had dinner and gifts at Memaw and Pepaw's house. We had too much food and way too many gifts as usual, but we made memories that will last forever. I have a cousin who lost her son this past year due to a car accident and watching her during all of it, opened my eyes to new things. We never really know when our last moment with someone will be, I wish that while we were here that it wasn't all about what we will get for our gifts. I wish it could be just us, as we are loving and serving one another. This only leads me to the actual Christmas Day.

It start with the tradition my mom has held strong to-- Santa. I love him, I love the excitement it brings to the morning. I love knowing that both sets of my grandparents will be sitting on the couch in their pajamas watching us open our gifts, my dad will be standing and sipping coffee, while my mother stands behind the camera, snapping a hundred pictures of our morning hair. I am 22 and I still look forward to this morning. I sleep with my baby sister on Christmas Eve and as Camaryn and I were going to sleep we talked about the future, about if we would still sleep in the same bed on Christmas Eve when we were married, we talked about our future families and we may have heard Santa setting the gifts out one room over. The next morning we shuffled  to Caroline's room, because it was her birthday and we all have to walk out at the same time to see the gifts. The morning was great, I got the things I asked for-- but it was like something was missing, I wasn't quiet sure what it was so I took a nap to shake it off. I woke up to have Christmas with Nonna and Nonno. We opened gifts and then it was time to start gathering last minute things for the mission.

This was about to be showtime. The leader of the outreach program had gone out of town only leaving myself in charge--- This was a test. I am not going to lie to you and tell you that I wasn't nervous because I had already made a list in my head of things that could go wrong. The potatoes might not get there, the chicken may not get warmed, what if we don't have drinks, what if no one shows up to serve, what if nobody shows up to eat-- this list can go on, but I will end it here. I knew that I had everyone lined up for their dish, I had things in order but it was Christmas anything could have happened. As I got in the car to head there an overwhelming sense of courage and peace came over me. (Confession: I shy down to certain people, I always have) I was scared of standing up and being in charge of this, but I knew I had to do it. When I arrived there was already a family of 5 standing outside ready to serve, there was a family of 4 already preparing chicken when we walked into the kitchen and within 20 minutes there was an abundance of corn, green beans, rolls, fried chicken, casserole and dessert. There were also 40---- FOURTY volunteers. A friend was running around with a camera so I asked if he could gather us to get a picture before we started serving, a larger lens had to come into play just to get the entire group. As the final touches were being added to the placement of the food it was time to give out jobs and with about 30 of us in the kitchen I yelled over everyone and through a voice that was cracking (due to nervousness) I handed out jobs. These people did not come just to say they did something good that day, they actually wanted to serve. They wanted a designated job, bad. The doors opened and the people came in I watched as the volunteers greeted each person with smile and a huge pile of warm food. Once everyone was served, I stepped out into the cafeteria to see 'the floaters' cleaning off plates, filling drinks, and talking to people. I watched as the musician for the night got interviewed by two little girls, I watched as mommas with young children connected and I watched as a deaf woman, who was serving, and a deaf man, who was eating, communicate.  As everyone finished eating, the worship leader started playing. He opened with Rudolph, to get the crown involved, while people finished gathering plates. His next song was about the love of Jesus. Of course, I know that Jesus loves. We all do, but this time it hit differently. As I stood in the back of the homeless shelter and looked around at the amount of people there serving, I grinned. I grinned so big the entire time that my cheeks hurt when it was over.


That night I heard my name said just as many times as a 4 year old says, "momma," I saw a group of people who didn't all know one another come together to serve. That night at the Rescue Mission we had to pull out chairs. We served more people than I have ever seen in there. I stood back in the corner, looked at my co-leader and my grin said it all "this is it, this is all it is about" and that is it. I left with a heart that nearly burst multiple times. However, when I got home it was like the heart that was nearly bursting was being pushed out by a tired, tired heart. I came home and instead of serving more at the house and helping clean the kitchen, like I totally should have, I sat on the couch and watched Home Alone while I reflected on the past two days. Even though the days were not over yet. I know that this Christmas I missed out on opportunities, I took new opportunities and I learned a lot of new things. It was one the best Christmas' so far. I figured out the true meaning of it this year.

'I have bigger sins in my house than a Christmas Tree'

I have a couple of post coming this way. There are a few getting ready to be posted for the Christmas series, but this one is a little more personal. This Christmas season my heart has been burden by a few different things. As many of you may know, outreach is my heart. It  is my favorite thing to do-- I may step on toes during this post.

With that warning I am going to get right into it: we, "the church" are slacking. I am tired of having to fight about religion, I am tried of hiding behind mask, I am tired of the lying and cheating, I am tired of the debates. The debates that get people so caught up in theology that they simply can't see past it. I was recently introduced to a new debate: the Christmas tree. This one blew my mind. There are actually people at a Private Christian college, who sit around at dinner time and debate on whether or not Christmas trees are good or evil. This is a real thing and people spend the entire dinner time talking about it. Personally, debating over theology is pointless. Sure, its nice to know things about Jesus and have your own opinions about things. I have taken two Bible classes and I learned a lot from both, my teacher was nothing short of a genius and the new discoveries blew my mind. However, I am not going to argue about it because arguing with a fellow "Christian" about whether He will come back with fire or ice, whether Christmas Tress are right or wrong will not get me into heaven. It may however, push other people away from ever wanting to become a Christian.

I became a christian when I wasn't at church, I was in another country-- loving people. I wasn't arguing with someone about something, nor was I in a church pew. I was sweaty, dusty and with a bunch of strangers, but that's when it happened. I guess, that is why my heart is so burdened by things like this. I don't really know how to gather my words for this post, its tough.

We are called to love one another. We are called to love the orphans and the widows. We are called to love the least of these. But are we? Are we really? Or are we just doing enough to get by? Are we just doing something during the Holidays. Guys, these people are still homeless even in January, February, March and for the remainder of the year. They aren't just lonely during the holidays. They need to know that there are people out there who love them. That there is a creator who loves them, just the way he made them. I read all of these books about loving people and serving, but I fail at it most of the time. Actually, I fail at it everytime. I don't love as much as Jesus loves, I only wish that I did. I try to.

I met a family at the homeless shelter about 4 months ago, a momma, a 9 year old and a 7 year old. They were relocating with no car and no shelter until they found this particular homeless shelter. I made sure to see them every week, to make sure that they knew that someone thought about them, prayed for them and loved them. A few weeks ago I got a phone call saying that there was a chance they may have an apartment. I worried about how they would pay rent, lights and get furniture. I went by to see them that day at the shelter and she ecstatically told me all about it and while jumping up and down she said, "it free rent and fully furnished." Not sure of when things would come together or how, I left excited knowing that it would be taken care of. The anticipation built up for about two weeks && finally today we moved them into their apartment. A one bedroom, fully furnished apartment. The kiddos teacher, the PTO, the lady from Catholic Services, the lady from 'Momma's' school, a local church and a young girl who is broke came together and gave this family a home just in time for Christmas. We unpacked the apartment and as we finished the kiddos hung the ornaments on their great, big tree and kept saying, "momma, this is the first time we will have a Christmas tree." As I sat on the couch and looked around at the full kitchen, full fridge, full closets, and a tree with gifts wrapped underneath. I held back tears as I realized how well the body of Christ works together. I didn't meet any of the people who helped get them in their apartment, I don't know if any of us met one another, but we worked together. It wasn't a debate or a competition. It was just love.

That is what it is all about. I could care less if you have a tree in your house, if Santa comes, if you think the world will end in fire or if you think the world will end in ice. I could care less if you think Jesus was born in April or December. I could care less if you have a bad history. I could care less if you are a different color or shape than me. I could care less if you are rich or poor. I could care less if you think worship should be a uniform 4 songs or if you think twirling flags during a 5 hour worship set is for you. What I care about is that you know that you are loved. I care about seeing you in heaven. I want you to know that not everyone feels the need to debate. Did Jesus sit down and debate over Christmas trees or when the world would end?
No, He simply loved His people.

My name is Callie, I am very passionate about people feeling equal and loved. I make mistakes and I fail daily. This blog is not written to glorify how I helped someone today. Its to glorify our creator who lined things up perfectly in order for His people to work together. This life isn't about me.

title: C. Sawyers

A Christmas Story| Painted Santa, Picture Tree and a Wreath

Tonight I decided to try a new series for the blog, I want to hear about how  families decorate their homes and the traditions they have for this season. This ha been a dream for a bit now and tonight I decided to call my Memaw and Pepaw to see if they would be up to being the test, I showed up not much later and started to take pictures of the place. The outside is very welcoming, a southern style Christmas. I walked in and said hello to my Pepaw and waited for Memaw to finish tidying up (a.k.a. pressing the buttons on the remote to turn on each set of lights in the house). I looked around to see what I wanted to capture for the post. These are items I see each year, items that I don't even know the story behind. So, I let them lead me through the house of decorations like I was a stranger.

The first tree they showed is the tree that the family sits around on Christmas Eve while opening gifts. They giggled through the awkwardness as they described each ornament, "this is a red ornament that matches the couch and oh, this is a poinsettia that matches the curtains perfectly." They walked me around the room, Pepaw sat in front of the styrofoam reindeer, that have to be moved every Christmas Eve because our family is large and so are the reindeer. He told about how they have put them out for the past 15 years. He looks at the reindeer as if they can hear him and says "they have had a couple of bruises over the years, but nothing that couldn't be fixed."

There were so many different things that I did not know the story behind. Of course, I know what goes up each year and where it usually goes. However, I didn't know that there is fishing line holding the tree up in the big living room or that the Santa behind the couch has the face of Uncle Jess. I also didn't know that they both took a painting class and decided to take on the task of painting Santas one year. Pepaw says, "every Santa has different eyes, it tells their character." This is being said while Memaw stands by the table waiting to tell me about the Santa/Baby Jesus figurine. She tells of it being her favorite piece, "It's my favorite because it tells the true meaning of Christmas and I love that Santa is praying to baby Jesus."

As I listened to Memaw and Pepaw tell about so many little treasures the have accumulated over the years. They both kept saying the same thing, "It's just memories, everything in here holds so many memories." They were giggling as they held up pictures from their Santa pictures collection (pictures of their children and grandchildren with Santa). There is a funny story behind each picture and my personal favorite as told by Memaw as she laughs, "This is Vince and Amy, I am sure that they were arguing right before this picture, but then they acted as if nothing was wrong the second they had to sit in Santa's lap." 

As I finished up, Pepaw asked me if I wanted to see one more thing that they have had since they lived in their old house. He walked me outside and told me about a wreath, one that I pass so often during the month of December. Pepaw says, "I remember the first time we hung this up, it was 1980, Amy was 10 and Vince was 7. I remember us hanging it on the door, not thinking anything much of it at the time. As the next few years passed I just continued to hang it on the door. Then when we moved I brought it back out and realized just how old and beat up it had gotten so I hung it over here on this light post. It goes up every year no matter how torn and tattered it is. It just holds memories." He finished by telling me a story of when he grew up. He talked about hard candy and how much they enjoyed just that treat of getting that candy each Christmas. There are some moments that are meant just for you, this was one of them.

I learned new things tonight about my family that I didn't know. I felt like I visited Mr. & Mrs. Clause's house. They know what Christmas is all about.

goodbye for a bit social media

I will be the first to try and say that I enjoy quality time with someone or that I enjoy going on adventures without my phone. I was that person at one point in my life, two years ago, but I am not anymore. It's gotten out of hand. It steals my joy and I can't do it anymore. I don't wake up ready for the day. Instead I wake up, scroll instagram and begin comparing my life to others before I even get out of the bed. I look at people who have taken their pup on a jog first thing in the morning, or the people who have cooked an awesome breakfast for their family, or the smoothies they made for themselves, or the outfit that they modeled perfectly before they wear it out of the house. But, I wake up in my pool house with a cat who takes the entire bed, I eat breakfast on the go, and I put on my make up in the car-- there is not enough time for a picture of my outfit beacuse I hit the snooze four times and I make it to class in just enough time.

Simply put: I am addicted to social media.


While I am not saying that posting pictures of you taking your pup on a jog or cooking a grand breakfast is a bad thing. I am simply saying that personally, I feel like I am in the wrong chapter of my life because I am not doing those things-- when that however, is not true at all. That is a lie straight from the enemy, but to stop him I am going to cut it out for a bit.  He can take a hike. The lies about me not being good enough, because I am not in a relationship, I do not have a kid yet, I am a student and  I still live at home -are simply not true. These things do not make me a chapter behind, instead they make me in the right chapter, for right now. I have things in my life that make me life worth living and not comparing it to others-- I have preschool kiddos, I have my cat, my family, my cute pool house that is about to be decorated like Dollar Tree opened another store in here, my sweet family from the Rescue Mission-who will have a new apartment by Christmas (more coming on that soon). I have great friends who are there, all the time, not just sometimes. I have relationships with awesome people. I have my camera and my blog. This life is a good one and I refuse for the enemy to lie to me via social media. This is why I am taking break until the end of the year. The enemy will not steal my joy this month. This Christmas, I want to enjoy each moment for its true value, I don't want to have to tell people to replay special moments because I didn't get it for my instavideo. I want to live it. 

This month will be one of the best months, one of my best friends is coming home from Texas and one is already home from college. There will be Christmas parties, lights and gifts. Christmas Eve and day will be spent with my family and there will be a special kiddo who gets a Christmas from the outreach program at church this year. These are all special moments, but I want to enjoy them fully.

I will still post blogs and photoshoots. I am also trying to get together a new series for the holidays. If it works out you will see it soon.

Merry Christmas.