My Best Eleven

It’s the night before 2016 and all through the house…

Yep. I’ve got nothing. Can’t come up with a word that rhymes with house besides mouse and blouse, so there goes my crafty poem about the New Year down the drain.

There are only a few moments left of this day until a brand new year, and I’m spending it with my people crowded around our kitchen table that only has three seats, and of course the tiny yellow couch. We’ve gone through two pots of coffee, 10 pieces of french toast, a few loads of laundry for Leta and me, and a ton few games of Halo for the guys. Every place you can sleep in my house was slept on last night, making our home feel so full and cozy.

As I think of the last year, I keep coming back to full moments like today. Full of wonderful people, really good food, and coffee – moments on couches sharing one blanket, so many miles driven, laughter and uncertainties. So many things are different this New Years Eve compared to the last, and I can’t help but wonder what will be different next. But for today, I’m going to focus on those really sweet, really hard moments of 2015 that made my year so full.

Like when the last day of 2014 (and most NYEs before) was spent with these two over Chinese takeout and lots of unknowns for our futures. This year, we won’t be together celebrating a new year due to jobs and new families and distance. Part of me is heartbroken that our NYE tradition probably won’t be a tradition anymore, and the other part is eager to make  new traditions that fit into our lives now.

Or like when the first full week of 2015 was spent in Disney with three of the most precious babies. Watching anyone under the age of six experience Mickey Mouse and Elsa and the Magic Kingdom Parade will make your heart burst into a thousand pieces, so you can imagine what my week was like. I literally held back tears when Stella Jane saw Cinderella for the first time, and don’t even get me started on Gavin watching the fireworks.

Or that first big snow we had and I was stuck inside my momma’s home for what felt like forever. I moved back in with her and my brother at the beginning of 2015 after being on my own for quite some time. It kinda felt like my life was completely starting over and I really didn’t want it to because FEAR. And I remember sitting at my window seat, watching our front yard turn white that snowy day, realizing that my life wasn’t really starting over. This change was part of my story. Part of who I am and who I am becoming. And just because life took a turn I wasn’t anticipating doesn’t mean absolutely everything is over and I need to start a new. I think the idea of “starting over” is full of false promises. We hope that in starting over we will finally be happy, finally find peace. But that never, ever happens. Because starting over doesn’t truly exist. Picking yourself up and putting the pieces back together, learning from your mistakes, and (most of all) trusting God brings you true joy, and true peace – that starting over never could.

Or how the best part of my year was spent on an airplane or on the interstate. For the few months Spencer and I dated, he lived in Missouri. We were actually telling stories of our long distance romance last night, and oh the nostalgia. Anxiously waiting for my plane to land. One last makeup check in the bathroom. Literally running into his arms, bags dropped everywhere. We usually only had the weekend together, and those three days were the sweetest of my months. For those short moments, our phones were turned off, our hands were clasped, and my head was usually on his shoulder. Such good moments. Then like clockwork, the weekend would end and I’d be left in my seat crying big baby tears as the plane lifted from the ground. A flight attendant once stopped and asked if I needed assistance. I shamelessly told her, “I miss my boyfriend!” I started driving to Joplin because flying was $, and I should’ve driven the whole time since every time I’d go to leave, Spencer would end up in the drivers seat and my head on his shoulder back to Kentucky.

Or that time I spent a week in Charleston with my same two girls. We rented the cutest bungalow from Airbnb, ate at the most amazing restaurants, visited The Battery, took a historic tour, shopped on Kings Street, and of course – burned ourselves to a crisp. Thank you Sullivan’s Island. The three of us have been friends since our freshmen year of college, and I swear our friendship grows deeper despite life’s changes. The highest highs and the lowest lows, those two never fail to be right where I need them. We might’ve even perfected the authentic version of laughing pictures…that’s how real our friendship is.

Or how about the Fourth of July this year? We just got engaged. No big deal… Except NOT! Huge day. Tons of family and friends around to celebrate. But most importantly, the sweetest man asking me to join him in forever. What a full moment that was. The summer led into a really fun fall as we were at Every. Single. University of Kentucky football game. You could find us every Saturday screaming like we were football coaches or something.

Or like when I realized that maintaining friendships isn’t easy when you’re hours apart, and that it takes a lot of hard work to keep something so close that used to be so easy. When we lived two minutes away from each other, Audrey and I were constantly together. We could grab dinner or coffee or walk or spend the night. Now we’re both married and live 3 hours away. I talked about being intentional with friends a few weeks ago, and this girl really taught me the importance of that this year. And how much sweeter our friendship is that we make time for each other when it’s easier to, quite frankly, not. Oh this girl.

Or that day when Traci accepted Jesus Christ as her Savior and Lord over her life…and then asked ME to baptize her! A top moment in my whole life right there. Over the last year and a half, Traci and I have been on a journey together, learning more about Christ and His life. We’ve had some of the most intense and challenging conversations, usually on the sidewalk outside of work (not working…oops!), coffees in hand. Her thirst for Truth and her boldness in Jesus is so encouraging. You guys really need to meet her.

Or that day we got married. Pretty big moment for us this year. Obvi.

Or when I finally decided to start writing again. Although my little space on the internet isn’t full of perfectly edited photos, or fashion advice, or thousands of followers, A Girl Named Logan is 100% me. This place is the real Logan. Where I share the victories and failures of marriage. Where I learn more about God. Where I leave more money in our budget since this is my therapy (kidding, sort of). Those of you who’ve encouraged me, thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope in the year to come this little space encourages you the way you have me.

So, with the little moments we have left of today, try to focus on all the good the last year has brought you. I know that as I look back, I can see so clearly how God protected, provided, and pursued me through every single moment. I pray the same for you as we head into the unknown of 2016.

“Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” -Philippians 3:12-14

 

 

 

 

 

 

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