Hi February.  Nice to see you.

Let’s be friends.





The internet brings us both wonder and horror.  Sometimes at the same moment.

What. Is. This?





I’m not a big make up wearing kind of human.  (Mascara feels like really “going all out” to me.)

I have a daughter, however, who is infatuated with make up.  It has almost always been true.



And now she’s a grown up and she’s making a job out of the art of make up.  Anyway, Riley has become a Mary Kay guru and I love my daughter so I’ve been trying out some of her products.  She still can’t get me in foundation – I’m pretty sure that’s a lost cause.  But I have been enjoying the handful of the products I have tried through Riley.  Particularly the face creams – about the extent of my beauty routine.  I essentially tell Riley what I actually use and she tells me which of the products I should buy.

I try not to take offense when she tells me my skin needs evening night cream for “old” skin.  (Nah – that’s not how she said it.  But we all know that’s what my skin is.  Old.  I can handle it.  Sort of.)  Anyway, I like the day and the night moisturizers.  (Ask Riley which one I buy – she can tell you.  I like to outsource such information.  I put a link on the sidebar so you can go to her page anytime and ask her all your MaryKay questions.)

Another well-received product is the regime of skin care for teens.  Both users in my house give it a thumbs up.  They aren’t into make up currently either, but they are into clean skin and they like the way these products have been working.




We ran out of ketchup this week.  Any human who lets that happen should not be trusted to make “flavorful” choices, right?




I want to think about myself the way God thinks about me.  Wouldn’t that be wonderful?  

How He made me.  Formed me.  Loved me.  Died for me.  And when I accepted that, when I believed that, then He covered me with like this super suit that looks like Jesus instead of Lacey when He looks at me.  So when He sees me He doesn’t see every junk decision I made today.  Instead, He sees what His beloved child looks likes.  He sees promise and hope and joy.



This has been a pretty humbling week for watching God’s strong hand of provision to me and my band.  There’s a few details that I just can’t share in this sort of forum, but one day it was almost overwhelming how God was taking care of me, seeing me.  It started with a free cup of hot tea (this tea is super delicious by the way – pretend that’s my flavorful entry this week) and led right into a small stack of other genuine, unexpected and beautiful kindnesses.

I stepped into my car afterwards and said out loud, “God, you see me.  Okay.  You’re taking care of me.  Thank you.”




Although I don’t love being reminded of how quickly life is flying by and how old I actually am, I do love getting glimpses of the lives of people I went to high school with, or students I once taught who are now married or having children or doing generous things with their lives.

I’ve mentioned my friend Sara here lots before.  She and I met in the 7th grade and I can’t say that I have many friends left from junior high, but somehow Sara and I made it through All The Things in Life and are still dear buddies.  Sara has an incredible family (and oh – the stories I could share) and I had the rare and sort of bizarre pleasure of returning to the school we both attended as students but coming back as a teacher for many years where I actually taught two of her younger siblings.  (Now, that was a surreal time, to attend a parent teacher conference as the teacher to a parent of the home where I first learned to shave my legs with an actual razor and where I had sleepovers and parties and fell under the discipline of her dad.)

One of Sara’s other siblings was close in age to me in school.  Karen was in the same class with my younger brother, so although in high school I thought of her as Sara’s little sister, as a grown up, I’m so glad to call her my friend.

And this friend, Karen, is doing such a cool thing.  In Ohio.  (Hey, not too many cool things happen in Ohio, so it’s important to spread the word when they do.)  (Kidding, Ohio people, kidding.)

Anyway, Karen and her friend have opened a lovely restaurant in Troy.  Lunch.  (The restaurant is called Lunch.)



I’m so proud of Karen for living her life.  Yep – that’s what I meant to say.  I’m so proud of her for taking the twists and the turns, the ups and the downs, the glamour and the dust of what she’s been handed and of making something really beautiful with all of it.  And I don’t actually mean her new restaurant endeavor.  Although it IS beautiful because she has such good taste!  But I mean her life is beautiful.  Her life is real and it’s her and it’s wide open and complicated and I wish she was opening Lunch in my town instead.

It makes me so happy to watch Karen live well.