I used to be a Christian. Most of my adult life, in fact, until a few years ago, I considered myself a believer. I attended regularly, prayed, worshiped, studied scripture. 

And then I had a major crisis of faith when my nephew, Brendon, died at the age of five from brain cancer. Words that were intended to console or support my family in our time of grief, shook my faith to it's core.

I have just spent the past three days in the Washington, DC area with some of the most powerful, inspiring and incredible individuals I believe this country has to offer. They also just happen to be members of a community I am proud to be a part of: the military spouse community.

This was a much needed trip for me on about 500 different levels. Some of those reasons were deeply personal and I am not yet ready to share those openly with whoever decides to click and read this post. But there are some that I just had to share, if for no other reason than my heart and mind need to release these experiences into the written word so that perhaps I will one day sleep again. 

Okay, so it doesn’t quite have the same ring as a van down by the river, but it is Friday and it’s all I’ve got. The first day of May, the first day of the #MayWriteAway challenge, Karaoke night with the girls and beer. Oh, I do love a Friday.

We have been living in our RV for a little over two weeks now. Friends and family might be surprised to learn that I actually really like it. We now live in a new, 33 foot pull-behind and, to date, I haven’t had any thoughts of running away or setting the entire thing ablaze. I know many of you have probably lost money on the betting pool. I apologize.