The Right Volume

Find your voice. Find your volume.

A Quick Note to the Ladies

Samantha Livingston of The Right Volume

Finding "The Right Volume" is a metaphor for coming into the calling God has on your life. A fullness He has for each and every one of us. A place of freedom, purpose, & grace.

This is a shout-out to women of all shapes, ages, flavors, colors, & styles: We need you! When you join the conversation the rest of us are inspired, challenged and comforted. The catch is, it’s more about the process than the destination. I invite you to come practice your volume here by sharing your comments along the way. It’s not about getting it right, it’s about being set free.

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A milestone has passed us by and I think it’s important to recognize and celebrate milestones. My friends and I each turn a year older every twelve months. Never changes. They know I love them and I know they love me and, yet, the older we get the more I realize what a privilege it is to celebrate our birthdays.

It’s a time of remembering we’re a family. That we’ve weathered both storms and sunny weather and a year is worth closing out with a meal or a toast or, sometimes, a full-blown party.

A year ago (plus a few days but, who cares, it’s not like I count things for a living) this little site I call “the blog” went live. In honor of the occasion I’m sharing a few things I’ve learned the past year, in no particular order:

Writing is time-consuming. My husband has noted (with kindness, mostly) there’s an inverse relationship between the volume of words I produce and the number of home-cooked meals I serve in any given week. And food at our house, in general. Read more →

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During the last few months of my degree, I was courted by all of what were then called “The Big Six” firms. I’m not trying to brag or make you jealous or anything but, without getting into all the nitty gritty details, I’ll just say this:

I was an Accounting Badass.

If there is such a thing.

I signed on with the firm I deemed to be the least nerdy of the bunch. The head scout was personable, easy-going and bought us beers during the meet and greets in the student cantina. (Actually, all the scouts did that). Read more →

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I see it painted in lines across her face: WORN. Sick again.On the heels of a season long with sickness.

The hand of the Lord was upon me, and he brought me out in the Spirit, set me down in the middle of the valley…

I notice the weight pressed down on yet another: WEARY. Stuck in a cycle. Groping for the End button.

…it was full of bones. And he led me around among them…

I sense another feels the heat too: UNKNOWN UP AHEAD. A fork in the road. Leads where?

…and behold, there were many on the surface of the valley…

I look in the mirror. See traces of all three. It’s almost too much for tired eyes to take in.

…and behold, they were very dry. Read more →

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I had a dream last night in which I was trying to hide a dead body in a black trash bag amongst a large pile of similar bags containing yard trash. It was unclear whether I was responsible for the murder or just assisting in a cover up.

I woke up and immediately began thinking of the things I’d been intending to do but haven’t gotten around to doing (writing more on voice, loving on my husband, opening all the mail) and I became aware of how it all made me feel: GUILTY.

Then I remembered the dream and felt the message loud and clear: You should feel guilty and ashamed. Read more →

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I found a dead leaf on a walk the other day. Something about it drew me–the beauty even in death. I brought it home and set it beside some more green and living things and have lived in fascination ever since.

I’m mesmerized by what the seasons already know: death occurs before new life is ushered in.  Everywhere we look are life and death co-existing side by side and we’re drawn to them–both of them. There’s a reason for that. It’s telling us something.

I’ve struggled to write anything that would be halfway meaningful this week. Something that would adequately describe the emotion I feel about what this week represents. I’d almost settled on nothing because, the truth is, I can’t. No words will ever articulate how I feel about my Savior dying so I might live. Read more →