Scrap Girls Digital Scrapbooking Forum: angleigh - Viewing Profile - Scrap Girls Digital Scrapbooking Forum

So I pulled up the forum and clicked on a layout that caught my eye. Which then lead me to the Heritage gallery. How have I not noticed this gallery before. I think I just lost a good hour of my day looking at layouts. I'm not always the best at leaving love, never know really what to say, but I have to say I don't think I clicked on a layout I didn't fall in love with.

Makes me want to go gathering some heritage photos and scrap a bit.

Ok..so I am so tired of the snow. This is what I get to look at while sitting in my office this morning. And letting the dogs out. Forget it. Poor Ginger (who's a basset) keeps getting lost in the drifts. Then Diesel (our mastiff) went out and there are spots the drifts are so high that it comes up to his belly.

We've got a few more hours of this, and then I heard a nasty rumor that we may get a few more inches tomorrow morning.

The ONLY plus is the snow is still piled up on both sides of our driveway from last weeks storm and the wind is blowing in just the right direction that our driveway really isn't that bad. So i'll get a little exercise later today shoveling.

Hey everyone....today of all day, someone cut Ro's cable and she is without internet. So she's asked me to come here and post the email that has just gone out to all of our subscribers, that most of you have probably received by now.

I thought this would also be a great place that Ro could come and read all the well wishes that everyone has for her. And of course, a great place to give a great big purple welcome to Debbie.

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High blood pressure did it.

I visited the American Fork Hospital Emergency Room at 2:23 a.m., Sunday, May 27th. Machines were hooked up. Blood tests were run. Questions were asked and answered. Medicine was pushed through a vein in my arm. And then, as the numbers fell back into the neighborhood of normalcy, a verdict was issued by a doctor wearing blue scrubs.

"No, it wasn't a heart attack," he said. "You are overly stressed. Take these pills three times a day to help you stay calm. See your doctor as soon as you can to find out if you have heart disease."

Accompanying the fear-filled event that occurred prior to my ER appearance was a cinematic review of my life. I was surprised at the speed and the variety of the memories that appeared in 3D.

Some made me smile. Some filled me with love. Some made me feel grateful. Some consumed me with tearful joy.

Some made my soul ache. Some made me lower my eyes with shame. Some made me sigh with regret. Some I resignedly got through.

I heard myself whisper, "I forgive you," and "Please forgive me," and "Do you know how much I love you?" over and over again.

I clearly saw how much small things mean and how little big things are worth. I saw that I own my mistakes and that the mistakes of others aren't mine. I saw that Christ's atonement is the one true hope that exists.

I saw myself in Dad's strong arms as he danced to Lawrence Welk's music. I saw Mom talking to someone and everyone as her whirlwind of activity flew by.

I saw my Grandpa Stevens trying to teach me to Foxtrot and heard my Grandma Stevens' voice float from the side, "Don't feel bad. I'm the only one who can dance with him. He bounces too much."

I asked my Grandma Warner if my memory was correct that her kitchen walls were pink and her stove was turquoise. I heard Grandpa Warner's laugh, "Oh, ho-ho-ho-ho."

I saw myself kneeling over the deep blue velvet, lace-covered altar in the Manti temple and felt my hand in Gary's strong grip as I accepted him as my husband.

I saw myself answer the telephone in our little home in Norman, Oklahoma, and felt myself smile when I heard Uncle Mont's voice say, "How are you doing, Rosie?"

I saw Aunt Kathleen working in the garden and wondered at the hardness of her long, handicapped life.

I saw Andrew's tiny, tightly-swaddled body being placed in my arms and felt the flood of intense new-mother love fill every corner of my being.

I felt cheated by the amnesia that had swept the memory of Julianne's birth into a spot of my mind that I haven't located yet.

I rejoiced at the sight of our little granddaughter, Baylee, slipping into the doctor's hands and was filled with fresh pride that my little girl had so gracefully delivered an angel.

I saw James' little arms reaching for me from his bunk bed as he cried, "Rock. Rock. Rock."

I saw Stephen's eleven-year-old grin in the camera window as he waved and called, "Hi, Mom!"

I heard the door open and saw my future son-in-law carrying his petite daughter into our family room. I felt excitement rush through me that this tender little child would soon be my granddaughter.

I wondered again where my former daughter-in-law is hiding my eldest grandson, Raevyn.

I saw my grandson Travis bound in the kitchen with his mother close behind.

I saw my father's aged, bright blue eyes peering over the front seat of the car as he saw me, meaning he saw me - the daughter who is more like him than he had realized - for the first time in my middle-aged life.

And I cried with the joy and mystery of it all.

I asked myself if I was ready to leave this world. I asked myself if I have loved enough. I asked myself if I could continue living as I have.

The answer to all these questions was, "No. No. And no."

I am not ready to leave. I have more love to give. And I absolutely cannot keep living as a woman whose stressed-filled soul cannot comprehend the majesty of the mountain view she sees from her window each morning.

I was shown the truth of my life in that dark bedroom shortly before 2:00 a.m. last Sunday as I clutched the middle of my chest, trying to will away the crushing pain. I suddenly understood why stress was stealing what should be the happiest days of my life, and I knew that I had no more excuses to make. I was shown why I had forgotten how to smile and why I was in danger of missing the joy God has waiting ahead for me.

And, in the process of this life review, God showed me why He had told me three weeks earlier that it is time for me to pass the mantle of managing my baby named Scrap Girls to fresh, excited hands.

These hands belong to a joyful woman named Debbie Cleek. She hails from Oregon and smiles through the Internet via multiple exclamation points.

God bore witness to my heart through Debbie's handmade card, sent to me via urgent UPS delivery, that she was the one I was looking for. With ribbon carefully sewn to tan and red cardstock and neat, pretty hand script, she passionately explained to me why she is in love with the Scrap Girls message and people and that she wants to honor our history. Her purpose in sending the card that morning was to demonstrate why I should choose her offer to buy Scrap Girls over the many other offers I would receive. When I searched online for her name, I found Debbie - our Debbie - smiling into a camera and speaking with dimples and a bright, sunny, slightly-nervous voice as she represented the company she worked for. I immediately knew that she would fit right in here, and I somehow knew that she would be able to carry the purple flag that I must now pass on.

And so now, finally, it is time. The unimaginable has happened. Eight years are enough. It was only an illusion that Scrap Girls was mine.

Scrap Girls is ours - all of ours - and I am merely the one who was called to found it and shepherd it until today. But Scrap Girls is not me, and I am not Scrap Girls. I am just one of the thousands who find bright spots of fun, creativity, and friendship on its web pages. As long as we have a leader who loves it as much as we do, we'll all be just fine.

So what's next? Am I leaving you?

No, I'm not leaving Scrap Girls. I am just handing over the big management and super-steerage of the company to Debbie. From now on, my role at Scrap Girls will be Founder and Product Designer.

After I take a break, which will include a well-deserved and much-needed, no-email vacation filled with closet-cleaning, hammock-swinging, late-night-fire-pit-watching, fiction-novel-reading, wall-paint-retouching, mountain-stream-trout-fishing, American-Fork-Canyon-picnicking, extended-family-visiting, I'll design... and I'll write... and I'll teach.

I will make pretty papers with bright happy colors and will gradually start finishing the large number of half-finished digital scrapbooking designs I've created this year. And then, when I am content that I smile when I look at them, I will release my new, cheerful digital scrapbooking products in the Scrap Girls Boutique.

And I'll write. I love to write. I'll write and I'll write and I'll write. I'll write books of all flavors, educational materials of all sorts in which I share what I've learned through the years. I'll write random, muse-y blog posts that you can read at http://ropaxman.com. And I will take my turn writing and crafting Designer's Life newsletter articles and posts for the Scrap Girls blog.

And I'll teach. I'll teach people how to build businesses that work at http://rozannepaxman.com, and I'll teach other people how to build digital scrapbooking layouts that they love right here - at Scrap Girls. And if I am blessed, and if it's God's will for me, I'll teach whoever is listening that life is worth living and how they can live it with joy and flair.

So, this is me officially handing over the reins to Debbie. Our team is well-trained and prepared for the shift. And I am still here, forever a Scrap Girl who will always be ready to answer the questions that Debbie might ask.

And finally, this is me, tearfully thanking everyone - and I mean absolutely everyone - who has participated in even the smallest way in the eight-year, purple Scrap Girls journey I've been on. Each of you, no matter what your position has been or how you have fit into this puzzle - from product designers, to layout artists, to Welcoming Committee team members, to customers, to Forum members, to former partners, to the team behind the scenes, to accountants, and lawyers, and advisors, and friends, and family - have taught me much and helped me to grow up.

I appreciate your lessons and love.

If you would like to follow my journey to discover what it is like to live in a new way (because I am setting out on an unmarked path that will completely change my life so as to avoid having a real heart attack), you are invited to follow me at http://ropaxman.com.

See you around!