1000 Miles to True Freedom.

“Gas in the car, get in...
Say we're never spontaneous
We're taking a chance at living the wild life, baby…

The clothes on our back are plenty
Everybody will wonder where we've gone to…
This could be a real good story, someday soon.”

A little over a week ago, I was in Nashville for a short trip, and Suz and I decided to do something we’ve wanted to do ever since we became friends: wake up at 6am on an ordinary Friday morning, throw an iPod, some clothes, apples, and peanut butter crackers into a bag, hop into Suz’ Jeep named Boy Scout and drive to one of our favorite places: the emerald coast of Florida. Oh yes, 500 spontaneous miles, many laughs, and one emergency bathroom stop later (giggle), we drove into Seaside, Florida with perma-grins on our faces and flip-flops on our feet that were itching to be removed so our toes could wiggle in the sugar white sand.

Amidst the myriad of times we’ve been to Destin and the memories we’ve made there, something was very different about this trip. I think we’d both come to expect multiple beach trips each year and had become greedy with how much time we could spend in the “perfect little beach town.” But due to a few situations that have happened lately, this trip was characterized not by greed but by overwhelming thankfulness: several days of working overtime that allowed us to both get off work on Friday, my husband giving me an enthusiastic thumbs-up and encouraging us to get a hotel rather than sleeping in our cars as originally planned :), our financial problems and then Suz’s generosity to pay for all the gas…So, tell me, would I have appreciated this sweet trip so much if life hadn’t been standing in the way of it before? Would I have treasured a day-and-a-half getaway with one of my closest friends if I didn’t normally live hundreds of miles away from her? I can’t help but think that sometimes God makes us release the fingers that so tightly grasp our dreams and ideals before He will give us some or all of it back – in His time and in the right way.

And now for some pics from the trip....

0 minutes into the trip. We left so early that no one was awake except the Pest Control man, who we asked to take this shot. Judging by the blurriness, we figure he should probably stick to spraying termites :).

Morning sun is shining, and we’ll be at the beach in 7 hours. Can’t fake these smiles!

Somewhere between Nashville and the Alabama line: Two Idealists in the car always makes for some good laughs. We pass an 18-wheeler truck in the shoulder with smoke pouring out of the side of it, and what does Suz have to say? “Ooooh, look at how the sunbeams are shining through the smoke! That’s beautiful!”

1.5 hours into the trip: The Alabama line. We made it out of Tennessee, and we’re happy to announce that not only is that a rocket, but yes Alabama is STILL happy to see us.


No road trip is complete without some luscious Diet Sunkist!


7.5 hours into the trip: It’s cloudy, but we’re finally in Seaside, so who cares?


8 hours into the trip: I think we can pass as beach house owners, don’t you? We sure look like the kind of gals who could own million dollar summer homes. Hee hee.

Here are some more fun ones from the beach…

Wow...just wow.





16 hours into the trip: Let’s not forget the infamous Destin Walmart – where else can you get airbrushed t-shirts and useless plastic beach bling??





16.5 hours into the trip: All the ice cream shops were closed when we finished dinner, so we bought some No Sugar Added Breyers Peanut Butter Tracks at Walmart and ate it in our hotel room. Yes, we’re both seeking recovery for this addiction, and I realize it violates my previous Whole Foods post :). But no time with Suz is complete without an ice cream run!!



28 hours into the trip: Beautifully sunny Seaside welcomes us Saturday morning at one of our favorite picture spots.


33 hours into the trip: Ice cream, sunshine, and a quiet spot to sit in a quaint beach town – I didn’t think I’d ever get Suz to leave this gazebo :).


34 hours into the trip: Saw this beach house and fell in love. It’s even my favorite color, and the handpainted sign above the door says, “Remember To Smile.” What a wonderful way to end our day before heading back to Nashville…


“If the ocean is warm we'll take a swim…
Fill our pockets with sand to prove we went…
To our friends.”

The next morning, sleepy-eyed at the airport, I was fishing for my boarding pass and found sand in my purse :). I closed my eyes and said, “Thank you, Jesus.” Not because I had been at the beach, but because since the last time I was there, I’ve been learning what true spiritual freedom is. I’ve been learning that I don’t need to get away to Seaside, FL to be on a spiritual high or to feel content with my life. Instead of having the momentary satisfaction that comes from worldly things or places or being with certain people, I’m tasting the kind of freedom that comes from a deep change inside the heart.

When this is happening, I believe that everything I enjoy about this life...from the coast to being in the sun to ice cream to Diet Sunkist…all point to a much greater joy. Only can we truly enjoy and appreciate the little gifts this world has to offer when they do not stand alone.

Whole Foods = pretty darn close to Heaven.

OK so the title of this post is a bit of an exaggeration, but all I know is that I’ve felt a hundred times healthier, more energetic, alive, and strong, since we went all organic.

Call me a health nut, call me “granola,” call me whatever you want, but the extra cost of natural foods is worth it to me now. I just can’t help but be reminded that they didn’t inject meat with hormones in Biblical times, nor were strawberries grown to mutant sizes. And it should be worth mentioning that some of the healthiest people in the world (lowest rates of cholesterol, heart disease, diabetes…) are those who live in the south of Italy and other Mediterranean locales. They eat food in its purest form.

A good friend of ours is a holistic nutritionist and corrective exercise specialist (among about 10 other titles), and he always reminds us, “If God didn’t make it, don’t eat it.” And while that sounds radical, I’m finding through practice that there is a lot of truth to that saying. I only have one body, and I’m not going to waste it. I’m not going to obsess about it either, because the Scriptures say, “do not worry about what you will eat or drink,” but I believe I can love people better and serve God better when I’m feeling my healthiest. I have to admit I can’t completely give up having ice cream and some sugar every now and then (tee hee!), but the change between what I put in my body now and what I used to is pretty drastic.

My workouts have gone through a complete overhaul as well (I heart my yoga mat), and that’s a huge part of my physical and mental changes, but for now I'm going to focus on the good eats found at Whole Foods ~ and those favorites I put in my cart every time.


1. Organic Produce. Folks, I'm not lying when I say that I just recently started to truly taste fruits & vegetables. There's a distinct difference in taste with organic produce. Apples, pineapples, strawberries, ohhhh the oranges, pears....shallots, onions, avocado, broccoli...pretty much everything in the produce section :).

2. Ezekiel 4:9 Live Grain Bread. This is the best bread I have EVER put in my mouth. Sesame is my favorite flavor, but all of the Food For Life flavors are great. Toasted with a bit of real butter and some natural orange marmalade...and it melts in your mouth. There is no flour in this bread, just natural grains.

3. Carob Energee Nuggets. Yes, ma'am. This is a great treat to curb a sweet tooth. Just one nugget, and I'm satisfied (now that's a phrase you don't hear everyday...). Although this pic shows them in a package, I've only found them in the "bulk" bins at Whole Foods, and they're made of honey, sunflower seeds, sesame seeds, cashews, peanuts, carob powder, peanut butter, and pumpkin seeds. Mmmm.

4. Stevia. This is a wonderful substitute for sugar, and it comes from a plant instead of being manufactured in a factory with chlorine bleach like Splenda. Sick. I made this delicious Oatmeal Apple Muffins recipe using Stevia last week...and wow, you couldn't eat just one. Warning: Stevia doesn't taste very good in coffee. But it's perfect in tea. Which leads me to....

5. Yerba Maté. I have Jenni to thank for this recommendation! Not only is it a natural stimulant, but it also detoxifies the body, boosts immune function, and decreases hunger cravings, along with a host of other good things. In Brazil, Argentina, and Paraguay, they drink it out of a hollowed-out gourd. I love the Chocolatté flavor by Guayaki. It comes in a bag just like tea, and you steep it in hot water. I add one packet of Stevia. Of course the FDA won't approve it because our nation is addicted to crap like sugar and preservatives. The FDA sucks.


6. California Suncakes. Another great natural treat! I love the poppy seed flavor. It almost has the consistency of a scone – dense and very filling. I've read that parents use this as a great natural snack for their kids. Sure beats Pop Tarts. Oh, and I love the packaging artwork :).

7. Turkey Bacon. This is a breakfast staple for me. Heck, an anytime staple. It kind of resembles the taylor ham I grew up eating in Jersey. Way less greasy than pork bacon, and it comes in wider thin strips. I love to tear it into pieces and scramble it with eggs and green onion. Or dill. Or raw broccoli! It's also great wrapped around a chicken breast and secured with tooth pics while baked - gives the chicken a great flavor.

8. Kombucha. This is an organic raw fermented tea. I know, gag a maggot, right? OH, but no! It tastes like spiked sparkling fruit juice! The first sip is kind of gross, but then you find yourself wanting more and more. Not bad for something that also detoxifies, helps reduce colds, regulates the appetite...and I just read it helps restore gray hair to its natural color - what? gimme a case of that stuff!

9. 96% Lean Grass-Fed Ground Beef. I used to not be a big beef fan, unless I was really in the mood for a burger from Logan's (Suz, can I get an Amen??). But this beef is unbelievable. Unless beef is marked "grass-fed," that means the cows are fed grain, and oftentimes they're fattened up way before they're supposed to be naturally. This beef is almost as lean as fish and chicken. Make burgers by mixing the ground beef with chopped onions and garlic (or jalapeños if you're feeling brave!).

10. Horizon Organic Cottage Cheese. This is by far the best cottage cheese I've ever tasted, and I would consider myself a cottage cheese connaiseur :). It also has at least 4 more grams of protein than other cottage cheeses I've seen. Mix it with strawberries, apples, or any other fruit. Put it on crackers. Spread it on live grain bread and sprinkle on some cinnamon. Mercy.

So, there you have it. I'm probably going to get beaten over the head by our holistic friend for including dairy on here, but that's a topic for another day.

Ice water toast!

Good thing we don't need Valentine's Day to have this much fun together... :)

A Greater Love.

My husband brought home some lovely red tulips for me last night as an early Valentine's gift. And on Sunday, I received a yellow candy heart from my 5-year-old friend Emma with a special "love" message on it that says: "Whiz Kid." It's still in my jacket pocket so everytime my hand touches it, I can be reminded of the simple giving heart of a child (and that I'm a genius, hee hee).

However, today I'm reminded of an even greater Love than that which can be symbolized by a heart-shaped candy or a stuffed teddy bear that's sold on the aisles of Walgreens, Target, and Walmart once a year. It's greater than bouquets of exotic roses from Central Market and yes, even Emeril's Espresso-Hazelnut Cheesecake with Orange Caramel Sauce (Lord, have mercy...).

This is the kind of Love that carries us even during seasons in our lives when we're not acknowledging the One whose arms are around us, a Love that chases after us when we don't show an ounce of love in return, a Love that waits patiently, drawing us, until we finally turn our faces in its direction with no other distraction.

"I taught Ephraim to walk,
Taking them by their arms;
But they did not know that I healed them.
I drew them with gentle cords,
With bands of love.
And I was to them as those who take the yoke from their neck.
I stooped and fed them."
~ Hosea 11:3-4

“I will betroth you to Me forever,
Yes, I will betroth you to Me
In righteousness and justice,
In lovingkindness and mercy;
I will betroth you to Me in faithfulness,
And you shall know the Lord.”
~ Hosea 2:19-20

THIS, my friends, is true love. And may we remember it long past today.

Chubby bunny.

Well, folks, a few days ago I had the surgery we all dread as kids but which is reportedly even worse to have as an adult: yes, I had my wisdom teeth removed. And what a humbling experience it’s been. More than anything, I’m humbled by my husband’s servitude as he completely put himself aside for 3 straight days: cleaning the kitchen and making me an endless supply of smoothies and ice cream sundaes, keeping track of my medication schedule, setting me up on the couch with 4 pillows and every girly movie known to man, and even holding the drool bowl under my chin multiple times while I washed out my mouth with the syringe. Now, that’s love.

But what's really love is that he can still say I’m beautiful when I look like a chipmunk with my cheeks swollen out to kingdom come :). Of course I never wanted to reveal these photos, but in keeping with the spirit of being the “real” Christine on this blog, I’m officially unveiling the worst pics ever taken of me for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy :).

Coming out of the sedation fog and Steven already has me laughing...

Pitiful much?

Nice try, buddy....you still have to make me some soup.

Suz and I kinda think my cheeks look like the “swiss water” lady in the movie Return To Me in this pic - hee hee!

And the crowning glory of them all...I don't know what's worse about this pic: the fact that I look like a character out of The Chronicles of Narnia (Mrs. Tumnus, perhaps?) or the unidentifiable substance I'm about to put in my mouth!

A good cry.

"I was angered, for I had no shoes. Then I met a man who had no feet."

~ Chinese Proverb

I never used to be able to cry in front of people. Yes, there were definitely times in my life after months and months (or even years) of emotions building up when I would finally explode and let it all out in a huge crying session in my room alone (emphasis on the word alone). I’m not sure why this is, but I think it’s the part of me that doesn’t want anyone to know I’m the one with problems, or that I need help. I’m so used to being the “fixer,” the one who is always OK.

Funny thing is, I’ve cried more this past year and a half than I probably have in my entire life combined. Ironically though, this past year has also been filled with some of the greatest joys I’ve ever experienced. And isn’t it just like God to work things that way? The upside-down kingdom…wading through your deepest pain, you will find your greatest joy…to find your life, you must lose your life…becoming less on earth means becoming great in Heaven…and on and on it goes.

So last night, I had a total meltdown. It all started because I was feeling sorry for myself that I wasn’t able to go to the beach last year with my girlfriends, a tradition I’ve had for almost 10 years now. And it was looking grim that it wasn’t going to happen this year, either, for financial reasons. So my flesh that usually lies dormant in the land of “I’m Okay” reared its ugly head in front of my husband, and it wasn’t pretty. I was feeling sorry for myself for having to give that trip up for now, but on a larger scale, just struggling with the idea that I can’t just do what I want to do anymore…and that my life isn’t as cush as it was when I was single.

So much of my life I’ve been spoiled and been able to travel the world and have lots of “mountaintop” experiences. And while those times have shaped me greatly and have allowed me to enjoy many glorious places on this earth, it’s almost a curse in a way. Because…really….how long can life go on that perfectly? At some point, something’s got to give. And reality is, life is hard. People get sick, people go bankrupt, friends get divorced and lose their children. And for some reason I cling so tightly to the world that God has to give me some pain in order to make me release those fingers that are tightly holding my dreams.

I don’t mean to make it sound so grim and hopeless. I do love my life, and I’m blessed with the most amazing husband a girl could ask for!! Steven wants me to keep that dreamer side alive, perhaps even more than I do myself! But he challenges me as much as he loves me, and he won’t let me stay in my cozy world without risking a little bit…without doing some things that I’m afraid of. Yes, it’s a risker life. Its different than my life before, but is that so bad? Is it so bad to give in to change, to let things morph and beautify, as God makes me more like Him?

So last night during my meltdown, and even after I said mean things to him, Steven held me and let me snot all over his arm and told me he loved me so much that he wouldn’t eat for 6 weeks so we could make my beach trip happen,..which of course, made me cry harder! I can be so selfish, and I hate that part of myself.

The Apostle Paul said: “I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.” (Romans 7:18-20 ~NIV)

So back to the quote I put above…"I was angered, for I had no shoes. Then I met a man who had no feet." It’s so easy for me to get caught up in the things I’m missing out on, the things that are removed from my life, whether for a season or forever. And I can get angry with God for that and wonder why I have to give up things in order to gain wisdom, peace, or true joy? My selfish nature just wants more. I want the beach house and the plot of land outside my window and the ability to paint things for people all day, and 3 kids. And you know, He might give us some or all of those things. But that’s completely missing the point. The point is, what is my heart in love with? And what does God have to do to show me that my heart is really just searching for true intimacy with Him? I’m over here whining about not going to the beach for two summers of my life, and it sounds quite ridiculous in light of people who have never left the slums or had a clean place to sleep.

The emerald coastline of Destin will still be there six months from now. However, what I hope will be on its way out in some form or fashion is my utter selfishness and that part of me that so easily falls in love with the things this world offers. Why can’t I enjoy Creation without putting my hope in it, without allowing it to dictate my moods or my outlook on life? Why can’t I have that Kingdom perspective? Then I hear my Father whisper, “I’m not finished with you yet,” and I think perhaps I'm harder on myself than God is. I’m just glad I can have that smallest seed of courage now to start letting myself feel.

So I’m posting this publicly on my blog to be open about my weaknesses and to say that I’m working on these things. I want to be a better version of Christine Bailey as I walk through disappointments, joys, highs and lows. I’ll always be a dreamer and an idealist…that’s how I’m wired. And honestly, it’s one of the things I like about myself. I just hope that little by little, I can embrace God’s dreams for me even more than I enjoy this beautiful world I live in now…and that I can be as joyful knowing Christ as I am running into the ocean He created.

An Italian girl at heart!

I found this quiz online today and was happy to find that it confirmed what I already knew about myself.... :)

You Belong in Rome

You're a big city girl with a small town heart Which is why you're attracted to the romance of Rome Strolling down picture perfect streets, cappuccino in hand And gorgeous Italian men - could life get any better?

What City Do You Belong In?

By the way, I'll take my Italy-lovin' half Korean man over a "gorgeous Italian man" any day!

MORE ON BELLA ITALIA COMING SOON....

Two pickles in a patch.

Walking buddy, sous-chef, fellow cuddler in the Big Chair, movie watching partner, one who makes me laugh uncontrollably, masseuse, baseball catcher, listener, Bible study partner, challenger, holder when I hurt, missionary, lover, and best friend in the entire world.

6 months ago, I was in a flowy white dress in the rain, walking down a hill covered with rose petals, surrounded by our closest community, and I was about to unite with the man who has redefined everything I previously knew about love. 6 months later, I couldn’t ask for anyone more perfectly designed to hold my hand through this crazy life.

Thank you, Jesus, for sending me Steven Bailey :-).

India and white twinkle lights.

Just like my husband, all the lights in the house are asleep....except for the white twinklers on our little Christmas tree. The tree subtly stands at the end of the bed where I'm sitting in our loft, and my toes can almost touch the branches. It's so peaceful up here. As I soak in that special quiet that surrounds you when everyone else is sleeping, I'm thinking about Christmas and how it began with one single bright star...a star that led us to the one Light of the World. Somehow, in the midst of stocking stuffers, wrapping paper, and mall traffic, it's progressed into one of the most stressful, busy, and downright superficial times of the year, and I've been caught up in it once again. This year is different though. I'm still excited about giving gifts, and we've definitely hung our stockings on our makeshift "mantle" (the railing for the stairs leading up to the loft), but tonight I'm wondering why I seem to so easily forget the one and only thing that is worth celebrating.

I absolutely love The Food Network, but if you watch it as much as I do, you'll really start to believe that "the holidays" are all about family, making cookies with sprinkles, and adding an extra splash of heavy cream to everything you're eating. "It's the holidays, throw some extra sugar in there! Indulge a little!"

Holiday. For a word that's supposed to mean "a religious feast day; a holy day," there doesn't seem to be much holiness about it (ouch...that hit home).

As I spoke with my friend Pastor Samson in India today, I was humbled to remember what I've been so quick to forget. The "holidays" are not about getting, eating, indulging, or even making the house look pretty (as I straighten the wreath on my door for the twentieth time). Why, for once, can't it be about LESS? Making myself less. Living with less in this world. Removing distractions so I can see that one light that shines in the darkness...the light that the darkness does not understand...the light that is life to us...the light that is sometimes much more easily seen by believers like those I know in India.

Oh, how differently we celebrate Christmas here as compared to the rest of the world. The first thing on my mind is how I'm going to beat traffic to make it to Toys 'R Us and still have time for all the cookie-making, house-cleaning, and gift-wrapping. And what on earth, out of my closet full of clothes, am I going to wear to the Christmas Eve service?? On the other side of the world, Pastor Samson and his staff are thinking about how many sarees they can gather to give to the widows in nearby villages who cannot even afford a single dress. They're looking forward only to their hour-long prayer meeting on Christmas Eve and the "love feast" they'll share together afterwards. And we'll probably be eating more food on Christmas Day than they've seen in the past week.

It's almost a year ago now that I stepped foot in India for the first time. After 19 hours on a plane, I made it to Chennai at 2 am never feeling so alone in my life. Anxiously, I scanned the crowd for Pastor Samson and a sign with my name on it. Dozens of empty, foreign eyes stared back at me at the baggage claim as I became more and more desperate - why on earth had I come here alone? Relieved, I finally found Samson and then proceeded to violate every cultural rule in the book by flinging myself at him for a hug. The blessed man forgave me quickly, and he and his wife Prabhukumari led me to the taxi. My eyes were wide as I took in the first sights of India...people living in shacks on the side of the road, cows crossing the street with the cars, wild boars feeding on trash, and the smells, oh, the smells. This was going to be an adventure...

During those 10 days in India, I went to the farthest corners of the earth, was in the most physical discomfort, was more hungry, saw more beautiful people, and experienced more joy than I ever have in my life. I was stretched farther than I ever thought I could be. I saw the hopefulness and joy firsthand that comes from walking closely with Jesus, and I'm not talking about just going to church on Sunday, singing a few hymns, and then going out to lunch. I met a widowed father of 3 little children who has one leg and walks to church with crutches and a smile on his face. I stood in a grass hut village of people who lost husbands and fathers to the tsunami, and still, these new barefoot friends of mine could only think of one thing: proudly showing me the new church they'd built for their village - literally a concrete room the size of a closet, the ceiling strewn with colorful paper lanterns. On that hard, cold floor, we sat together and sang hymns to a God who is so big that He is as present in the smallest village of India as He is in my apartment in Dallas. I played with children at the Peace City orphanage who pray more earnestly at 6 years old than I've ever prayed in my life. I held their hands and touched their little, skinny legs. I played ball with them and laughed with them, the whole time wondering how I got to have this opportunity...and humbled to wonder how I could make sense of my middle-class Western life after the trip was over. You know, I've heard that joy comes through suffering, but there, I saw it and tasted it. I didn't understand it, but I sure believed it.

A year later, I still haven't made sense of it, but I hope I'm a little farther along. Of course I still find happiness in decorating our tree, giving gifts, baking 15 dozen Yummy Cookies and playing my Nat King Cole/Dean Martin/Bing Crosby Christmas album on endless loop. And I'm not saying we all have to sell our things and move to India, but what am I doing with my life to make it clear what I truly value? To reach out to others in love? To make myself less and not keep asking for more? And by the way, what if God called us to move to India one day? Would I be willing to go?

So almost a year later and as Christmas Day swiftly approaches, I want to take a few moments to remember my friends oceans away in the little town of Ongole, India. Pastor Samson, Prabhukumari, Wesley, Hudson, and even little Kerthanea the orphan girl with pigtails. Peace be with you, friends. From another continent and thousands of miles away, you have reminded me: "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth." (John 1:14). These white twinkle lights at the foot of the bed are a lot more than a decoration to me now...and I hope it doesn't take until next December for me to remember that simple Truth again.

P.S. You can see all of my photos from India here.

Goodnight, Nashville.

Tonight, as my 28th birthday comes to an end, I’m finally saying goodbye to a city that has held my heart for the past 10 years. In 1995 at almost 18 years old, I strolled onto the campus of Belmont University in Nashville, TN with the world at my doorstep. Moving into the dorm that first day in Nashville, I was immediately at home. I remember blasting “Gangsta’s Paradise” on my boom box as any true Jersey girl would, and then finding out that my suite mates (and everyone else on the hall, for that matter) were diehard country music fans :). A few hours later, I met a girl in ropers and a long flowy denim cowgirl skirt who would become my best friend, and that was it. I was a Tennessee girl at heart from that moment on.

Every single day was bright and sunny the fall of my freshman year. We spent our days in class writing poetry and memorizing the great leaders of the Western world, our lunches stuffing ourselves with slightly warm chicken nuggets and Lucky Charms in the cafeteria, and our evenings country line dancing in cowgirl boots at Denim ‘n Diamonds or going to an FCA meeting in the campus ministry Barn - God rest its soul - which has now been replaced by a parking garage. If anyone had told me on my first day at Belmont what the next 10 years would hold, this gangsta rapper-turned-cowgirl surely wouldn’t have believed them…

I look at the world completely differently than I did when I was 18. If I could use one word to characterize the last 10 years, it would simply be “hope.” Hope of what life would be like in a Southern city after spending the first 17 years of my life in the northeast…hope of getting that internship at a record label…hope of finding a boyfriend…hope of working for a family-oriented company post-graduation…hope of living on the beach…hope of getting married one day. Many of these hopes have become real. For 3 years I interned at record labels and was a part of creative projects for artists I only dreamt of meeting in high school. I met friends who have left my life completely changed for the better. I witnessed the birth of my best friend’s first child. I stood in the summer rain and made a vow to the love of my life.

One of my friends said last week that one of the things that makes Nashville so special is that it’s full of hopeful people who are chasing their dreams. Well, I finally left Nashville on Labor Day 2004 with a different dream and a different hope – the hope that I could dare to find joy and happiness away from my community and in another place. Although I knew moving was undoubtedly what I supposed to do, parts of my heart were still left behind. You don’t just live in a place for 9 years and leave it without a fight.

Now, over a year later, as a ridiculously happy married woman living in Dallas, I’ve finally learned a little something about hope. Nashville has symbolized everything that was once comfortable about my life. I know now that hope has nothing to do with living in a place that is comfortable, or getting that house on the beach if I ask God for it enough times. Hope has nothing to do with finding the perfect job or group of friends or duplex with hardwood floors and a killer fireplace. Hope has nothing to do with seeking out a “safe” life. It took me 28 years to learn that hope is yearning for something that will never truly be fulfilled in this life. Hope is the expectation that God will do something with my little life that will actually matter for His Kingdom. For the first time, my hope is in Christ, and that’s it. I say that’s “it,” but really, isn’t that everything?

I would still love to live on the beach, mind you. And I definitely miss my house on Beechwood with the huge back deck where we had many a marshmallow roast. I miss driving through Hillsboro Village, drinking coffee on the ledge at Fido, and going to Destin three times before summer’s end. But I now know that I don’t need those things to find true joy.

So tonight I curl in bed with my sweet husband and say goodnight, Nashville. I’m finally moving on. I’ll never forget you or who you’ve helped me to be, but you don’t hold my heart anymore. With hopefulness, I’ll continue this journey for the next 10 years. My cowgirl boots are still in the back of my closet waiting for a special day. Except this time, I’ll be dancing in Texas.

New York City...my kind of town.

Isn't New York the best? Growing up in Jersey, I hardly appreciated it, and everyone pretty much stayed away from Manhattan unless we had an absolutely necessary reason to venture away from our sleepy suburb (which was a mere 30 miles, yet seemingly lightyears, away.) What a sad, closed-minded perspective we northeasterners had of a place that I've finally come to know - thank goodness - as magical. Now of course, there was always the once-a-year visit to a Broadway show or the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, but even then it was made very clear that we were going to an "over-crowded, filthy place with lots of muggers," and we were shoved into a cab or tour bus outside the theater faster than you could say "roasting chestnuts." Not until I left for college in Tennessee and had the chance to bring friends back with me who had never been there before, was my love for New York City kindled into a roaring fire.

So, as a dedication to a place that has held so many special memories for me, here's a list of Christine's top 7 favorite places to go & things to do in New York City:

1. Rockefellar Center sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas. If you go closer to the end of November/beginning of December, it's way less crowded and just the most magical place to be. I love walking down 5th Ave. browsing all the Christmas windows and venturing into Macy's for a warm drink at their basement cafe...returning to the chilly outdoors to walk down the angel-lined pathway leading to the Rockefellar Christmas tree that is always about 20 feet taller in person that you ever imagined it would be from TV. A trip to this area of the city is not complete without some time spent resting your toes and sipping a latté at Dean and DeLuca overlooking the Rockefellar rink and across the street from The Today Show.

2. Central Park. OK, as far as I'm concerned, you simply cannot go wrong in Central Park unless a) you have no senses, or b) you're dumb enough to jog there alone in the middle of the night. Sitting under a gorgeous fountain...playing with iron sculptures like this friendly little Hans Christian Andersen duck...watching people at the Wolman skating rink on an icy pre-Christmas day...laying on your stomach in the lush grass in the spring, summer, or fall...or accepting a marriage proposal on a hill covered in golden leaves :), there are wonders and adventures every which way you turn. You could literally walk around the park and explore for an entire day and see a fastastic variety of people, ages, and cultures . My favorite thing about Central Park is that it can transport you to another world in a matter of seconds. One moment you're in the middle of the rush of crowds of high-class shoppers on Park Avenue, and a moment later, you're in a peaceful oasis with gardens, horse-drawn carriages, and quiet park benches that could be set in the middle of the country if you didn't know better (and if not for the tips of skyscrapers peeking above the trees, giving away your true locale).

3. Café Lalo. This place is a little piece of Heaven on a brisk New York morning. 9 or 10am - get off the train on the upper west side and walk down Amsterdam to this gem of a café. It's also the location of the famous scene from You've Got Mail where Kathleen Kelly hurts Joe Fox's feelings: "And you...you are nothing but a SUIT." As you can see in this photo, they usually have the tall casement windows wide open without a screen. If you can score a small table in front of the window, sip some homemade lemonade or a warm drink, let the sun warm your neck, and smell the fresh flowers, it's nothing less than ideal.

4. Serendipity III. Ok, so a lot of my favorite things in NYC so far have centered around food or drinks, but bear with me here. Have you HAD Serendipity's Frozen Peanut Butter Hot Chocolate? It's like a frozen Reeses peanut butter cup, except you can drink it, and there's a vat-load of homemade whipped cream on top. Susan and I always share this one, and we can only take about 5 sips each before our tummies start to give way. But those 5 sips...boy are they worth it. I know this restaurant has been hyped up since the movie Serendipity released a few years ago, but not only are their desserts delicious, but it's perfectly whimsical inside.

5. Peanut Butter & Co. in Greenwich Village. Yet again, centering around food, but where else can you order a peanut butter, chicken, and green apple sandwich on wheat, with a side of carrot sticks??? Yes please, may I have another. Take me to Heaven now, because if that was my last meal on earth, I'd be happy. This place is tiny and is right around the corner from NYU, and yes, they only serve peanut butter sandwiches! They also make custom peanut butters like Cinnamon and Spicy that you can buy by the jar.


6. Exploring the brownstones on the Upper East Side. These buildings are simply gorgeous. I love walking down these quiet, historic streets wondering who lives there, where they got their "old money" and what their life is like. Do they have a simple life or are they busy executives who hardly have time to enjoy their beautiful homes? Who lived there in the early 1900's and what was it like? Did they go to-and-from home by horse and carriage down the cobblestone streets?

7. Broadway. Last but not least, my favorite musical in the entire world...Phantom of the Opera. From the moment the music starts until the last note at the end, this show always gives me chills. Take the most glorious music you've ever heard and couple it with a set so realistic that you'll wonder how you've suddenly been transported from a regular theater to a dark and creepy underground waterway with gondolas, ghosts appearing in mirrors, and infinite candlelight. All I know is that this is a masterpiece and a Broadway must.

So, here's to a city that is altogether refined, entertaining, fanciful, diverse, serene, energizing, and quirky. New York City…that’s my kind of town.

"Happy Thabsgibing Back"

Without a doubt, Thanksgiving is the best holiday ever. The smells, the weather, the food, the being with family….I loved waking up and knowing it was crisp outside and then following the smells of Thanksgiving morning down the stairs to see what awaited me there. In my house in New Jersey growing up, I always smelled my dad's coffee brewing, the turkey beginning to bake, and the distant hum of the TV as the pre-broadcast of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade was beginning (a must-see for all in the metro NYC area!). My dad would pick up my grandfather in the city of Bayonne and bring him back to the house, where my "Poppy" would declare as soon as he walked in the door, "WHERE’S MY BRUCK-FUST." Poppy always wore a 3-piece suit with cufflinks for his trip out to the “country” as he called our suburban town of Madison, since he had lived his entire life in the inner-city. This was a special event for him! So as Poppy entered in his formal duds, the rest of us were still standing there in our pajamas, and my mom in her fluffy deep purple floor-length robe. Using both of his pointer fingers to show me just how tall he wanted the glass to be, Poppy would then ensure that I was planning to include a “tallllll glass of orange juice” with his meal. Funny enough, throughout the years the requested orange juice size grew in height from a coffee mug to a Pilsner ☺.

My dad would bring home an authentic New York Crumb Cake from the local bakery, and we’d all groan as my mom ate off all the crumbs. I loved it when the cooking preparation began, as mom, still in her robe, would prepare the turkey. There were the typical “blechs” and “ewws” when she took the giblets out of the poor little bird’s insides, cooked them, and fed them to the dog. I don’t think I ever touched raw turkey giblets until I was 26 for that reason alone. I would, however, joyfully help my mom by cutting up the onions and carrots for the turkey’s brown-in bag. After everything started cooking, we’d get showered and into our casual clothes and watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade with Poppy. My grandfather was a cosmetician for The Rockettes back in the day, so he would look forward to the moment when “his girls” did their number in front of Macy’s – the highlight of the parade. How on earth did all of their legs kick at the exact same height anyway? To this day, I still don’t get it. And how about the Garfield float? He was looking for lasagna, but all anyone had to offer the poor guy was a big browned bird.


At this time of year, I also love movies that feature Thanksgiving. You've Got Mail is such a classic (but who am I kiddin', I could watch that movie on a sweltering summer day, I love it so much). Who can forget a troubled and distracted Kathleen Kelly getting into the "cash only" line on Thanksgiving morning with no cash in her wallet. Behind her in line, a customer named Henry begins to get agitated, ("And I'm HAYN-ry!") and cashier Rose won't crack a smile ("Get-in-anotha-line."). Thankfully, Joe Fox comes to the rescue with some comic relief, Rose cracks a smile and even answers his holiday greeting with a “Happy Thabsgibing back” in broken English. Sadly for Kathleen, Rose hasn't forgiven her for stepping in the wrong line and scowls at her as she zip-zips the card through the credit card machine. And it's finally Hayn-ry's turn in line...