Heather Nestleroad's Blog, page 2

Taking it Back in February

I am having trouble picturing her at sixty six.  It is hard to imagine.  She never looked old, just tired mostly.  She didn't get to be old.  Fifty two is far from old. She worked all the time so of course she looked tired.  On our evening walk this evening I asked my husband how he thought she would have aged.  We were discussing how a man will look at a woman's mother to see how she will age.  A woman could look to a man's father to see how he will age. I'm sorry that he has no reference point to see how this is going to go.  He isn't going to know how I'm going to look in my sixties or seventies, it'll be a surprise I suppose.

I have so many questions about her and for her. Would she have moved here with us?  Would she be shocked that not only I but her granddaughters drink coffee now?  Would she like a caramel macchiato? She drank black coffee but she loved sweets, so maybe? Are my curls something she would have liked?  Are they a family thing you get once you turn forty? Or am I just weird or lucky? Does she get birthday parties in heaven?  So much of who I am is because of her but also because of the loss of her.  I'm not sure if it is for the better or the worse.  Would she be proud or dismayed?  I think in retrospect even though I fell even after I met Jesus that night at the food of her bed, I did two years later have a better understanding of the love of God.  I still forget however, that that love applies to me as well.

I struggle in February just as I do in July.  Memories overtake me...feelings of loss and heartbreak creep in even when I don't realize what is happening really.  Every stress takes over my thoughts.  I lack focus.  I can't concentrate on anything or perhaps I concentrate on all the wrong things.  Worry over things I have no control and a feeling of helplessness and yes even hopelessness come into play.

As more questions swirl in my mind over even the most trivial of things like what it would be like to ride in a car with her at this age and look over at her and see strands of gray peaking through and if she would have nicknames for the kids.  If she would still bake, if she would still be watching Days of Our Lives and if so would she have a DVR because I'm not sure you can still get VHS tapes to record shows anymore. I wonder how a woman who has felt the presence of God at the foot of her mother's death bed not two feet from where she sat holding her hand and watching the lightening show out the window, a woman whose God told her when it was time for her mother to go home with him can still struggle with her faith...can still have doubts.  I wonder what kind of a woman she has to be.  How broken she must be to worry and be troubled knowing that her faith should be stronger and yet she still thinks she should be able to fix everything.  That if she could just be better, if she could just be stronger, she could help everyone and she could get it right.  Maybe make up for her wrongs, you know?  Maybe if she could just fix something for someone she could make up for the fact that she couldn't do anything about the fact that her mother died on her watch....because those are the thoughts that surround her, her mother won't be turning sixty-six tomorrow because she died and there wasn't anything she could do about it and she is heartbroken all over again. And why?  Why after nearly fourteen years does she still struggle?  Why does she still think she has to earn God's love to be worthy of it?

I take it back.  I think that's the heart of it really.  I get along ok mostly in the day to day of life.  I don't dwell, I stay in the moment.  I am happy in my life which I feel guilty about.  Mother always said I was so spoiled, that I got everything I ever wanted.  Not a fair assumption at all really considering my formative years were scarcely without trouble.  Tormented and abused by her husband and mostly ignored by my own father it is a wonder I turned out by most accounts to be as well rounded as I did.  But she is right I suppose, I did get my happily ever after.  I did get the family I always wanted.  God blessed me after my earlier suffering.

I, being the well rounded individual, who was in the presence of God, who has done bible study after bible study, can't let anything be released to God to handle because obviously he has more important things to do.  Who am I that he should be concerned with the fact that I'm worried about this or that or the other thing?  Who am I, the one who fell apart and withdrew after being in his presence, that I  should ask him to hold me and carry me through the trials of life?  I am but dust....made from dust and back to dust I will one day return.  So I pray and I ask God for his help and to sustain me and to be with me and my family and I pray for my extended family and friends and their families.  But then I take it back...because I really think that one or more of my friends needs Him more so I'll just take my stuff back.  I've got it.  I can take care of it.  Don't worry about me just take care of them.  I need them to be alright.  My stuff is so small in comparison. So what if I'm lonely with my girls off at college.  It's fine.  So what if I'm stress eating and my stomach hurts and my shoulder is hurting again and I pulled a white hair from my face and I'm sure that's just an early sign of things to come.  I'm forty five years old I'm a little old for abandonment issues to go alone with my trust issues and control issues.  God, really, please just let me take my stupid trivial crap and have some control because I need you to be somewhere else helping all my loved ones and beloved friends who really need you right now.  I take it back.

It's so heavy really, going through the motions.  Giving it away and taking it back.  I'd like to take back the take back.  I don't want it really.  I'd like to believe that God has the time and the desire to take care of me too.  After all maybe the real problem is that I forget who I am.  Or I don't realize yet who I am, which is scary too to tell you the truth.  The clock is ticking I'm running out of time to figure this out.  Mom made it to fifty two and I'm pushing forty six.  I'd like to see at least eighty five but I'm scared to wish it.  Scared to get my hopes up really.  Always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I called my best friends and asked her how you get the kind of faith that you can just turn it all over and not think about it and not worry about it anymore. She said it is a daily thing.  So Thursday I woke up and I looked around me and realized how far we had come.  I thought about all of my worries about bills and how we'll manage everything and how I can't be there for all of my friends in person when they need me.  I also thought about the fact that we've been in a place like this before where I worried about the same types of things and God sustained us, that yes the bills are piling up right now but I have a roof over my head, I have food in my kitchen (that may be going bad in the fridge to be honest) and I have a soft mattress to sleep on at night and at the end of the day a bill, just like money, is just paper.  A temporary thing that at the end of the day doesn't mean a whole lot in comparison to other things like family and friends.  I decided to redirect and look at my blessings instead of my stressings (which isn't actually a word, it's stresses but it sounds better with blessings, amiright?)  One day at a time, like eating an elephant one bite at a time, I have to focus my thoughts and try and figure out who I am.  I am a child of the one true king, I was made in the image of God, He has promised to turn my ashes into beauty, he has plans for me to give me life and a future, he will never leave me or forsake me...even me.  My God is big enough to be with my friends and family that I worry so much about that I don't even have to tell him about them because he already knows. He is even big enough to be not only with them but with me and also with my mom up in heaven ready to have the most amazing birthday party with her tomorrow and every year into eternity because she isn't sick anymore, she is strong and beautiful and has amazing hair.  She hangs out with grandma and her sisters and her little brothers and they have no worry of the future because the future for them is now.

So today I am missing my mom and tomorrow I will miss her too but identifying your problem is the first step in recovery.  I will not be taking it back when I tell God my stresses anymore because I have been reminded of who I am (and who I am doesn't have time for it). I have been reminded of who my God is and lastly I have been reminded of where my mom is and that that is ok too.  It's just February, it's a short month and it is almost over and soon it will be March.  I will not let the enemy toy with me and lie to me in March even if my daughter will officially be the age I was when I married her dad.  It's not weird at all.  I know who I am now...even if I have trouble believing it.

Two Years of Believing God for More

This morning marks two years since we left our home in the Midwest we had lived in for sixteen years.  This morning marks, for some, the day we left everything and everyone we knew and just left them behind.  This morning marks for me, the day we dared to believe God for more.  Today marks the day we believed that as long as we were together and God was with us there wasn't anything we couldn't do, any place we couldn't go, any new experience we couldn't go through.  Sometimes leaving isn't about walking away but about walking toward something....more.  It's not about a place or a people not being enough but about a place or a people needing you more even if you don't realize it or know it at the time.  You see to me today doesn't mark the day we got into the cars and drove over a thousand miles away from our friends and family because we took all of them with us in our hearts.  No today marks the day when we got into the cars and drove the thousand miles or so to the place that God had set for us, to the place that God had things for us to do, the place God had people who needed to be part of our lives we never would have met if we had stayed.

Here's the thing I know about God, He doesn't need our permission to do the works He is going to do.  He isn't going to take a poll.  He isn't going to ask around to see if He has a good idea because his ideas are always for our good.  He doesn't even have to ask you, when you are the one being sent.  God will accomplish what He wants one way or another and you, having the gift or the curse (depending on how you choose to look at it) of free will, can get on board and head to the blessing or not.  I've been here for two years and I'm still not sure of the plan here.  You see, he didn't come to me and say, "OK Heather, here is what we're going to do.  You are going to go to this promised land in the south and you are going to get a job HERE, and you are going to meet THESE people, and you are going to do THESE things, and you are going to go to church HERE, and your kids are going to be blessed by this here."  No, I didn't have that kind of conversation.  He didn't come to me with charts and grafts and pictures.

In fact, when we arrived there was a moment as I stood inside my empty house and as I realized we were actually not going to automatically have friends and people we could count on that I thought, "Uh Oh what did we do?"  As we tried to find a Walmart and find an air mattress and a toaster and something to eat and we didn't know what road led where and how to get from point a to point b and everything was so foreign and unfamiliar that maybe this was a mistake, and I questioned what we were doing here, and I thought maybe I heard God wrong or maybe it wasn't even God who sent us or put the desire in our hearts to come here, especially as my son walked around and said, "Nope.  This is not going to work." Are you with me?  Have you ever had those thoughts about anything in your life?

Fear and confusion and isolation are not our story though.  If you were to take a snap shot at any point in our first year here you would find that picture, but that picture is not the story.  Our stress and our confusion is not our story it is a byproduct of our lack of belief in things we cannot see.  Our crying and our fear over things that we feel may not come are not our story, they are a byproduct of incapacity to believe God for who he says he is.  It is a byproduct of our lack of believing God for what he can do. Stay with me here because you need to hear this.  Someone needs to know this...even if I'm just reminding myself here.  If I gave up every time I had doubts, every time I couldn't see where things were leading, when I was sure that God had picked the wrong girl, that I knew I was unworthy, God should have killed me and taken me away when I was a teenager.  If he didn't want to do it then, He should have definitely taken me when my mother died and after I felt his presence at the foot of her bed and know he took her home himself and I fell into the pit after they lowered her into the ground anyway.  When I went from being surrounded by people to never feeling so alone and isolated in my life.  He should have taken me then. I'm not exactly sure of how much proof of God's existence you need when you've actually experienced feeling his presence in your own home but I did and I fell anyway. But that is a picture of my life it isn't the whole story.

Two years later my daughters have met people and made friends through school.  My son is making friends with the entire varsity basketball team and talks to more girls than guys on his phone.  I don't know whether to be scared or not by that.  Two years later and my husband comes home and talks about one of the guys at work and laughs.  Two years later and I am just as busy as I've ever been and I have adopted some of the kids I work with and have decided I don't care if they like it or not they are just our extra kids.  One gal at work calls me mom and shows me pictures of her son who she calls my grandson.  I've only ever seen him in pictures but he is so stinking cute I can hardly stand it.
Two years later a house is a house and anywhere we are together is home.  This place where we were lost and couldn't find the airport, where we went to a random Walmart and didn't know our way home in those first two days, we now drive all over.  We know our way around and if we leave to go somewhere to visit we know when we are getting close to home because this too has now become familiar.

Let me tell you something, this writing thing isn't familiar.  Some of you may or may not know that in school I didn't do a lot of reading.  In junior high and high school it was my best friend who read a lot of books and did some writing.  I preferred English to literature.  It was faster. I didn't have time to read books I was too busy reading people.  I was too busy looking at boys.  I was too busy trying to find anywhere I could go to get away from my home life because home was not where I wanted to be and if I had just picked up a book I could have escaped from the safety of my room with my door locked so the horrors of my house couldn't come and get me.  I didn't read in school aside from what I had to read.  I didn't go to college and study English and literature.  I didn't major in creative writing.  I didn't major in anything I've ever used.  My degrees are in Medical Assisting and Marketing and I couldn't market anything over and above a garage sale to save my life.  I didn't intend to write, I just talk a lot and found I had things to share that couldn't possibly be from me because I was a stay at home mom and I'm not exactly Chaucer over here.

My mom died and while I was in the pit God started talking to me and I found things to write about to find my blessings in the middle of my heartache.  I found humor in my daily life.  I found God had a message he wanted to share and I had to write it down because while I can talk to you one on one all day long whether I know you or you are just trying to check out my groceries I can't talk to a group of people and share what God is telling me.  I'm not even qualified to share it anyway.  I'm just a girl who has jumped from one pit to another and stayed at home and raised kids and doesn't hold the degrees or the education to share it anyway.  I didn't intend to become a writer (I'm not even sure if you could call me a writer except that I keep typing things out and here you are reading it.) but when I started writing I couldn't stop writing.  I couldn't not share what I felt needed to be shared.  I have two books and only about a thousand people read them and I only really thought that my best friend and my grandma were going to read them anyway.  They were a 'what if' experiment that I didn't know where God was going to go with it and I am still unsure where God is taking me on this journey anyway.  I don't have to know because if I know then I can see and then I can take credit and I can't take credit because I don't know what I'm doing to begin with.  I don't need to know the plan because if I know the plan I can say no and stay on my couch where it's safe, where it's home, and I never learn anything new.  If I know the plan then do I really have faith?  I have to have faith because I don't know why I started this writing thing to begin with.  I wanted to be a fashion designer.  I wanted to be a fashion buyer.  I wanted to do something in fashion because clothes and shoes I understand (or at least I did before the world went crazy), don't ask me to explain the ways of God to you, don't ask me to explain poetry to you, don't ask me to explain why Nicholas Sparks books always have a death or a sadness in them because I don't know.

Listen, we drove away two years ago and I may live a thousand miles away from everyone I ever knew but I know what is happening.  I know how God is working in our lives and in the lives of my friends.  I pray and I see God at work.  My best friend's mom just moved away from the home she lived in for well over forty years and yesterday I was told about how God showed her mom how this was the right place for her to be, closer to her daughter.  One of my other dear friends has a daughter who is battling a brain tumor and yesterday I was told that the doctor was pretty sure he got it all with the second surgery.  She still has a long road ahead but God is showing that this is only part of her story and I'm believing God that there is more for her.  I have other friends that have had a hard year.  Some things have worked out and some haven't but I'm praying for all of them.  My own daughters have had some struggles this year but sometimes we have to walk through the fire to get to the promise.  God doesn't leave you when things get hard, he gets to work and we have to get to work too.  I don't know what that looks like for you.  I don't know your story.  I just want to remind you that whatever you are going through isn't and doesn't have to be your story.  It's just a snapshot, a picture that is going into a larger picture.  Don't get stuck.  Put on your armor of faith and get to believing God has more.

Collateral Beauty

There is an ongoing battle that rages within.  Thirteen years after the loss of my mother and the battle continues.  The war between truth and lies.  The inner voice that tells me that I didn't do all I could have done for her and yet I know there was nothing else I could have done.  There is a movie with Will Smith called Collateral Beauty that we have watched recently and repeatedly actually that really shows the grief process.  He lost a child and I lost a parent.  He shuts down and closes himself up in his grief for two years and I did the same.  In the beginning of the movie which starts three years prior he is on top of the world and he is giving a speech in front of his employees and he says that life can be summed up in three abstractions;  "We long for love,"  "We wish we had more time," and "We fear death." I've thought some about these things and while I didn't write letters to Love, Time, and Death, I did spend a bit of time trying to figure it all out.

Anyone who knows the story of my beginnings knows that I spent the better part of my formative years longing for love from my dad.  A love that he was incapable of fully giving.  Likely because he was never shown the love of a father himself.  While he did provide for me, he didn't come around and show me how to ride a bike or how to throw a ball or how to throw a punch to protect myself if ever needed.  It wouldn't be until much later that I would come to know that I had the love of a father from the beginning, it just wasn't coming from my earthly father.  My heavenly father loves me and knows me and I wouldn't know that until later.  He, knowing this also would send a young man into my life when I was seventeen to help me navigate life and to try to help mend some fences or rather break down some barriers that I had built to protect myself when it came to a relationship with my dad.  He would help me to know love and help me to grow in my faith.  So yes, I do believe we do long for love, whether we admit to it or not.

I wish every day that I had had more time with my mom. I wish she could have seen my son with hair.  I wish she could have taken the girls shopping and they would have heard her say, "What do you want to do now, Kong?"  I wish I could have made her jewelry.  I wish she could have read my books.  I wish she could be here in the southern state with us enjoying the palm trees and laying on the beach with us.  I wish she had more than fifty two short years.  I wish she could be here to tell me about life and menopause and talk me down from the ledge when I get overwhelmed.  I wish she were here to fight with me when one of us needs an attitude adjustment.  I wish my kids were younger longer.  I wish we could turn back time and I knew then what I know now about how fast it goes.  I wish I hadn't wished any of it away.  I wish I hadn't checked out for two years of their lives and been more present even though I was crumbling inside.  I wish for many things and more time is near the top of the list.

I don't fear death.  I think that's where the difference occurs.  In a family that has endured it's fair share of deaths over the years I think it is hard to fear it.  I don't long for it, but I think when the time comes I will not fear it because I know so many people on the other side.  My mother, my grandparents, my aunts, and some of my cousins have all gone before me.  There was a time when we had so many funerals on my mom's side of the family the funeral home was starting to know us all by name. I don't fear death for myself.  I'm not sure that anyone who knows God fears death for themselves.  I think rather I fear life without people I love.  It always felt so weird and uncomfortable to me that someone I loved could be gone and life continued without them.  The earth continued it's path in the solar system.  The sun rose and set.  Businesses continued to open and close at the end of the day.  Life moved on.  How can that be?  How can life just....continue to move on when my heart is shattered and I feel so battered by grief and loss?

Those are questions that I continually asked myself and sometimes still do.  When holidays come and go and my loved ones aren't here.  When I'm cooking dinner and I'm not able to talk to my mom while I cook and she can't come to dinner.  When a birthday comes and goes and the void of her not being presence permeates within my soul, I ask God how can life go on, how can I possibly go on.  The answer is...because you just do.  You get up in the morning and you put one foot in front of the other and you move.  My falling into a pit for two years did nothing to honor my mother.  Perhaps it was my outward sign of my grief but two years is a lot to miss.

In the movie Howard (Will Smith) missed quite a bit but he also observed quite a bit.  He checked out of his own life, divorced his wife, almost lost his entire business, and yet...he still knew what was happening in his friend's lives.  His wife told him as their daughter was dying a woman told her not to miss the Collateral Beauty.  He didn't get it, but she did.  As I sit here thirteen years later I can see it too.

My mother found Jesus as she was given her diagnosis.  She went to church and the number of people that came to her visitation and funeral was amazing.  I didn't know some of the people that came to pay their respects and yet they all told me of the beautiful, funny, kind woman my mother was.  My mother who worked and worked to make a life for us made an impact on this world.  She wasn't famous, she didn't make any great discoveries to help with furthering mankind.  She worked in a factory for thirty years and also as a realtor for a few years before she died and she was beloved by many. 

To be honest when I started writing this I wasn't sure where God was taking me on this.  I often don't.  I'm not trained in writing.  I hold no degrees that I have ever used.  I was a stay at home mom for eleven years.  I often try and figure out what my purpose is and feel I have fallen short.  I don't contribute to society as a whole the way I probably should....and yet....perhaps my view is too small...or too large depending on your perspective.  I may never know of the impact I have had on this world this side of heaven.  I may question whether or not I am doing enough for my family and others every day of my life but maybe I can use that as a drive to do more.  Maybe by sharing my journey someone else can see themselves in it and find something to focus on outside of the pain.  If you are looking for it, I promise you that it is there.  Jesus can take the ashes and make diamonds.  He can take your pain and use it for good.  Jesus is love and he is in all of it, the good, the bad and the ugly. He is the giver of time and he conquered death. And maybe none of this is what that movie was about and this is just my translation of it.  Maybe it isn't about anything at all and it is just a movie but aren't movies a form of art?  Isn't art open to interpretation?  I think God has the power to speak to us in ways that help us to understand what he is trying to get through to us.  Whether it be a movie, or a book, or a song, or a blog from a wannabe writer, sitting on a college campus, writing in a cubicle, trying to blend in with the students while she waits for her daughter to get out of class.  My hope is that instead of shutting down in your pain like I did, you will look to the light that is Jesus and let him turn your pain into a promise.

Somewhere In Between There's Me

Somewhere between a grandmother who loves having people over and feeding them and caring for them and a teenager who really just can't deal with that much peopling there is me. Does that make me an extroverted introvert or an introverted extrovert?  Or does that just make me weird?  I love people.  I dare say I'm a people person.  A person who entertains, I am not.  I admire people who have the confidence in their cleaning and cooking abilities to invite people into their home and feed them and entertain them without wanting to throw up at the thought of it.  I love those people.  I wish I were those people.  Don't get me wrong here I have had many a birthday party for my kids.  I've done all the things.  I don't so much worry about what my family thinks of my ability to provide food and entertainment because they are not there to see me.   They are there to see my children and they are cute and wonderful and a good distraction from the bit of dust that permanently resides on my white furniture because dusting is last on my list of things that must be accomplished when cleaning.  Also I don't cook for them, I order food in.  We have had pizza or a foot long sub from the local sub shop every time we've had a birthday party.  The only time I have cooked or prepared anything was for fourth of July parties and the years we had a grill I didn't do the cooking on the grill, my husband did.  I only did the side dishes.

I keep looking for the adultier adult here.  Unfortunately I keep coming up short.  We are about to have our second Thanksgiving here and there is a possibility that we have guests coming. We did have guests last year but it was my best friend and her family.  My best friend exudes grace.  I'm not sure that I could come up with more than five people who have the patience and love for me to extend the amount of grace she does for me.  She's closer to Jesus than a lot of people, I'm telling you people in stores go up to her to tell her their stories.  She's that kind of person.  I don't have to worry about what the state of my home is in or how high on the culinary chart the meal I serve is.  She is going to love me either way.  I can't scare her off (Like Jesus, she just keeps loving me through all of my flaws.)

My children are growing up.  We no longer have birthday parties with more than just the five of us.  The time is drawing near that I am going to be the one who has the dinners for holidays and there are more than just the five of us here and the people involved won't be my best friend and her family.  This year we may have some friends over.  Plus there is the boy my daughter is dating that will likely come by for a little while.  He comes from a large family and from what I understand they all cook.  I just can't with this.  Here's another problem, apparently the people who live down here (or basically anyone from anywhere other than the Midwest) do not eat like we do.  You may want to sit down for this....there are people in this world who have never had a meal that consists of chicken and noodles, mashed potatoes, green beans, and rolls.  They can't even conceive of it.  HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?  That is what I want to know?  It is the standard for all comfort food.  You can't not have it.

My menu for Thanksgiving is: Turkey, ham, chicken and noodles, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, apple salad, green beans, salad, deviled eggs, and rolls.  I don't even know if that's the correct menu for Thanksgiving.  I probably have too many meats, too many starches, and not enough of something else.  I even forgot to add pie to the list because I don't actually even like pumpkin pie, I like apple pie so I with have to buy frozen pies to have because don't ask me to bake from scratch...just don't.  It's for everyone that I ask this.  Truly. To be fair they do need to be baked. As I look over the list I don't even know if I have enough burners on the stove for that many dishes.

How can I be here already?  I remember going to my grandmother's house as a kid for every holiday and every Sunday for that matter.  Green bean casserole was a staple for holiday gatherings.  My aunt would bring rolls and everyone thought she made them from scratch and later in years it came out that they were frozen.  My mother baked at Christmas and made more cookies and candies than I can remember to count.  She filled shirt boxes with cookies and candies and gave them to family and friends.  EVERYONE looked forward to it.  She was the best and I did not inherit her gift.  I was always just the taste tester.  Eating I excel at, cooking and baking, not so much. I don't know how to be the one who does all the things.  I'm still coming to terms with the fact that my people need to eat more than once a day.  I'm still trying to accept that my face is really my face and not my mother's face.  I still phone a friend with cooking questions and life questions.

Now I'm busy googling what a typical Thanksgiving in a southern state looks like, trying to figure out if the food is going to be good or at least edible.  Trying to figure out seating and how to entertain people and come to terms with the idea that I can't just sit and read a book while my husband watches football all while still being excited that there might actually be people coming to hang out with us.  Tell me if you have some ideas food wise or otherwise.  I would appreciate the input.  I would also appreciate having my house cleaned for this impending event and losing ten pounds beforehand as well.

Jesus, Coffee and Wine

Well....It's official.  I will never sleep again.  It is interesting really becoming a parent, all the parents around you warn you about having babies.  Babies keep you up all night. The days of having a continuous night of sleep are over. Books upon books upon books are written all dedicated to helping you with that first year as a new parent. You even get help for the toddler years.  My days as a mother to babies and toddlers are over.  Where are my books? Where are the warnings?  Where are the people and the support groups and mom groups I'll tell you where they are: Total Wine.  That's where I am, man.  Nothing in life makes sense and I just want to drink a healthy fruity adult beverage and attempt to sleep at night.  Life as we have known it is now over. O-V-E-R!!!  I can't even.  Total Wine and Target with a Starbucks that's where those moms are.  Laugh all you want all you young moms, I was you once, it's coming for you too.  Sit there all you confident ones who think being your kid's "bestie" is the answer.  Ha!  You're adorable.

OK I'm going to break this down for you.  While all the other girls and boys were dating in high school and the moms were all freaking out I was sitting pretty.  I was feeling all confident.  I had raised MY children that school was first and dating was a distraction that would come later...after college...when they're thirty...or I'm dead. Get off your high horse over there Mable!  Yes, I remember being young.  Yes, I remember dating in high school and college and I remember all the things.  Which is why I'm saying no....just no. It is a brand new ball game when it is your child and not you.

For the record my husband is calm and cool as a cucumber over here.  He's all...."It was going to happen eventually, Let them have experiences and live their life."  He watches comedies and sports and has never seen the movie Taken.  Obviously he doesn't know about the world today. He's also never watched Sex and the City which I think furthers my point. I know things. I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks.  I have street smarts and I have seen both of those movies and I've seen all of the Karate Kid movies and the Hunger Games.  I. Have. Got. This.

All of this has come about because Megan now has a boy...who is a friend....I feel sick.  OK fine she says he is her boyfriend.  Whatever.  He's a boy.  He can be her friend.  She has a 'boyfriend' and I have apparently turned into Tony Soprano and I have never even seen that show.  I'm a mob boss and think I have 'people' at my disposal. Obviously, I'm handling this well.  I also think I'm Iron Man so...it's a problem having an overactive imagination.  What I am is a middle aged woman whose cervical spine is deteriorating and sometimes even holding my head up hurts.  I'm not lethal or deadly, I'm a writer.  It'll have to do.  It's amazing the lengths that we are willing to go to protect out children though.  Feasible or not.  This letting go business is HARD.  I'm not a fan. 

So as I was sitting pretty, or so I thought, all the other moms were actually getting all prepared.  They were getting practice for this sort of thing.  Jokes on me...again.  Kind of like when I was in high school and I said I would never get married and have children and yet...here we are.  God does have a sense of humor.  Which is obviously where I get it from.  I couldn't be pretty, or a doctor, or an artist, or anything good, nope, I get to appreciate a great joke.  It doesn't exactly pay the bills is all I'm saying.  Mother always said she hoped I got a child just like me.  I got three of them that are just like me to varying degrees. She gets to appreciate it from her front row seat to the show in heaven.  Paybacks are fun.  I look forward to the day, when I'm sixty five and they get married and get their little paybacks themselves.

This boy will probably be the first of many that will vie for my daughter's attention.  My other daughter, though she doesn't believe it, will likely experience this as well.  Once my son starts bringing girls home I will likely be buying boxed wine instead of wine coolers.  We'll have to keep that on tap.  I'm told that Total Wine has an app and you can get rewards so...there's that.  Life as I knew it is now over.  All I need now is Jesus, coffee, and wine.  I should probably throw in some bread too. I shouldn't probably drink on an empty stomach. I'm new to the adult beverage life.  They were never on my shopping lesson when I had a small hold on my life.

He seems like a nice kid so far....for the most part.  He tried to teach her how to cook this evening and they made us dinner.  He cleaned it up too!  You have to give credit where it is due. He can cook and he isn't scared to hold a conversation. She's terribly young though I mean she's five...ok...she's twenty but in my mind she's five.  She's a beautiful young lady and she's my little girl.  I will always like every boy more if they aren't dating my daughters.  Can anyone ever be good enough for your little girl?  Can a girl ever be good enough for your little boy?  I'm no sure....All I can do is pray that God places the right people  in my children's lives.  Well, pray and drink so I can get some sleep.

Beautiful One, You Can Do Hard Things

Beautiful girl you can do hard things.  I recently saw a bracelet for sale online that had those words on it. Of course, I loved it.  I didn't buy it because I wanted to buy one for not just me but for my girls as well.  Then I started thinking that perhaps a bracelet wouldn't work because my oldest doesn't wear a lot of jewelry.  A necklace maybe would be good.  A placard really might be needed.  A sign to wear around that we could look down and see....a t-shirt might be good.  The number of times I say or I hear my daughters say that something is too hard is immeasurable.  We could really use a reminder that we can do hard things and even if we can't do it alone we can do it because God is with us.

Writing is too hard.  I can't do it.  I don't know what to say and it doesn't matter because no one will notice if I don't write anyway.  Physical therapy is too hard.  I feel terrible the entire next day afterward anyway and my arm and fingers are still going numb anyway.  I'm not smart enough to figure out how to do half of the things my job (that I only mildly hate now) entails. I'm not qualified to get another job.  I can never seem to keep the weight off, it's too hard.  I never say the right thing to the kids.  I'm a terrible parent.  Why does my husband stay with me?  Dreams don't come true for girls like me.  I can't have the job I want because no newspaper, magazine, or website will look at my work because I lack a bachelor degree and I'm internet illiterate.  I have thirty five followers and I'm pretty sure to get noticed you need in the neighborhood of thirty five million. This class is too hard, I will never figure this stuff out.  This piano piece is too difficult for me to play.  I can't play anything but classical, jazz is too hard.  I can't make friends, no one likes me.  I'm too weird.  I can't decide what to major in because I'm too worried about disappointing you.  I can't do this assignment.  This workout is too hard.  I'm not pretty enough.

It's a constant stream.  Do you have this?  Do you get the constant stream of things that you can't do and you're not good enough or smart enough for from your inner voice as well as those voices around you.  Do your kids say these things and you try to figure out how on earth they came to become this way when you have told them their entire lives how beautiful, smart, creative, talented, kind, and wonderful they are?  Am I the only one who has messed this up?  Do you try and figure it all out and then realize you say those things and think those things about yourself?  Are you nice to yourself?  If so, can you teach me?

My kids are all beautiful, smart, witty, kind, and compassionate human beings who I am certain God has big plans for.  They are far from perfect.  They are just as flawed as any other human walking on planet earth but they are also full of just as much potential as any of them too.  I have tried to raise them to help them to be aware of who they are and yet humble at the same time.  I have failed.  I didn't want them to be full of themselves and snobbish and what I created were daughters who are just like me.  We are a fine trio.  Three girls of God who were born to stand out but so afraid of making a mistake we tamp down every dream, every idea, every thought of something great in fear of being mistaken for something we are not.  Three girls who really aren't sure who we are.  Three girls full of potential but too scared of what that means.  Anyone?  Are you there too?

Greatness is for other people.  Is that you?  Let me tell you a secret that this world will never tell you.  Oh you can read it on jewelry and t-shirts and maybe hear it from your mom (who my kids say are required to tell you nice things because of being your mom) beautiful child of God YOU can do hard things.  Yes YOU!  Yes my girls and even me.  We can do hard things.

I try to tell myself nice things.  I do self affirmations.  I have found that of all the things that I have to offer I like my feet.  I tell myself that I have beautiful feet.  It might sound crazy to you, it kind of is really.  I mean how beautiful can feet really be?  But when you fight a constant stream day in and day out sometimes you need to find the one thing that you can like about yourself.  For me, it's my feet because even when my weight fluctuates my shoes fit.  I can still wear cute shoes.  Even when I hurt because of arthritis that I think I'm too young for, my feet are spectacular.  When I feel as though I have messed up my kids and I am a terrible wife because I have ruined another dinner and all I have to offer is peanut butter, at least I have cute feet.  Is it enough?  Of course not.  Am I enough? No.  Will I ever be?  Likely not. That's what my inner voices tells me.

But my internal stream, and probably your internal stream at times as well, lies.  Our biggest problems are that we either don't know who we are, we forget who we are, and we don't know who we work for.  I keep telling my girls that they can do hard things.  I remind them of all they have accomplished so far.  I tell them they are daughters of the One True King.  I tell them that there is absolutely nothing they can do that will make me stop loving them.  I can't be disappointed because they are trying, they are out there giving it their all.  They can do hard things!  I am their biggest cheerleader.  In the line of people who love them I am right behind Jesus.  Jesus loves them more than any of us can possibly imagine or understand.  I have failed to show them how to live it out though.  I forget who I am.  I forget who I work for.  I forget I'm not alone.  I forget I too can do hard things. I second guess who I am.  Do I even know who that is?  What if I only think I know?  What if what I think is what God wants me to do really is only my own desires?

My oldest daughter is smart and witty.  She is quite possibly one of the funniest people you will ever meet if you are lucky enough to witness it.  When she smiles the sun shines brighter.  She is a brilliant writer and has a beautifully creative mind.  If anyone is meant to be in English or writing as a major it is her.  She is an accounting major and it is killing her spirit but she can do hard things to get to where she needs to be to come alive in her passion and purpose.

My middle daughter is smart and musical.  She plays four different instruments.  She was playing the piano last night and I was amazed.  She is her own worse critic.  She will play something so beautiful and I will be so impressed and when she is done she will say it was terrible.  It was terrible, she's terrible, and she can't do it but she can do hard things.  She has a love for music and bringing joy to others.

My son is smart and sarcastic and witty.  He is very much the most extroverted of the bunch.  He never met a stranger and he is a good friend always looking for a laugh.  He loved Jesus and reads everything about the Christian faith he can. He wants to lead people to Jesus...maybe one joke at a time.  I'm not sure what his future is going to entail but he also can do hard things.  He does hard things every week that wear him out.

Beautiful ones you can do hard things.  God knows the desires of your hearts.  He knows the things that bring you life.  He knows the ways you will serve the kingdom.  He knows you can do hard things because you won't be doing them alone.  You are never alone.  You are a child of the One True King who 'will never leave you nor forsake you'. (Deuteronomy 31:8) You are the child of the One who knows his plans for you, plans to prosper and not to hurt you plans to give you a hope and a future.(Jeremiah 29:11)  'For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.' (Ephesians 2:10). We can do all things through him who gives us strength. (Philippians 4:13) Beautiful ones we need to know who we are.  We need to remember who we belong to.  We need to remember who we work for.  I don't know where you are.
I don't know what your struggle is.  I can only share what I'm struggling with in the hopes of shedding some light for you and for me.  Remember who you are and know you, beautiful child of God, YOU can do hard things.

Move Some Furniture, Change Your Life

I've been moving furniture around. This weekend a sofa that was way too large to be brought into my bedroom spent the night there.  The next day it was returned to its original location.  I then moved an oversized chair into my bedroom that ended up being the perfect size.  I say "I" but in all honesty my son was the smart one who figured out how to get it through the door then around the bed to the location it was meant to reside. He is also pretty strong so a lot of the brute force in moving these things came from him. The boy is so kind and so willing to please, a trait that I'm certain he learned from his father.  His relaxed, easy smile, and quick witted personality is something I wish I could take full credit for.  I cannot.  The boy will make a good husband someday. He should as he has learned from the best.

Today while the men of the house are out however, I am moving the bookcases from one room to another.  Do not call them as I could get into trouble for attempting this fete on my own.  I'm pretty excited about this idea I have for switching things up in the house.  It might not work and I might hate it but....don't die wondering right?  I have tile floors they should be easy to move once I take all the books off of them and get them over the carpet in the room they currently reside in.  There are some that think that if you are scheduled for physical therapy this week you shouldn't probably be moving furniture around.  I'm pretty sure that is exactly why I should be moving furniture around.  It has to be good exercise and the point of physical therapy is to move the problem appendages around right? (Note: It's probably best to just agree at this point as I cannot be persuaded at this point.  Those bookcases are moving today.  Also as a non-athlete I don't really think physical therapy is necessary anyway especially considering the thing that is wrong can probably be attributed to the fact that I am middle aged. That's two years of medical assisting training from over twenty years ago talking. I don't actually remember a lot but I think I remember that part...or I made it up.  OK I made that up but to be fair all I ever did as a medical assistant was bandage toes and triage...which is why it didn't stick.)

Here's the thing: I might have psychologically flipped a switch at some point.  I read the private message from my doctor that said that I have some mild deterioration in my cervical spine and some arthritis in my left shoulder and the first thing that I thought was, "Well...I'm not sure how that can be cause I'm pretty sure that I'm getting taller."  The shoulder thing makes sense.  I have an old college injury that has pestered me for years.  I feel the pain when it's cold or especially cold and rainy, but deterioration?  I don't think so.  That's probably normal in the aging process too but I might just have some form that makes me taller.  I kid you not, as I walked on campus today to get to the student center to write this I felt SO TALL. I'm not sure they have it right on this one.  It is entirely possible that I'm growing up after all these years. I don't think we should question my theories.  I think this mindset is probably better than the alternative.  There are days when I think I'm getting taller than my husband.  I did get new glasses this summer though and I have my first pair of progressive lenses so it may just be a trick of the eye. (Oh stop!  I've never been tall.  Let's just agree to let me have this one.)

All of this has gotten me thinking about things though.  I'm not sure you've noticed but the world is kind of a mess.  I'm not going to get into a political rant or discuss football and taking knees here. What I will say is that I think that maybe we could all use a flip of a switch.  I have two daughters in college.  I also have a high school aged son.  It isn't as though they don't hear things or see things.  I can't even take a walk with my husband without my phone giving me an update from the news channel.  All I really wanted was weather updates.  I don't know how to turn off the nonstop barrage of updates from the media about how this is wrong or that is wrong.  It isn't for a lack of caring about the world around me. I do care. I do, but I do not have the time left on this earth to dwell on who has offended who.  I can't do it and nor should you.  To be frank, I'm not sure when or why we all got so worked up about being offended.  I mean, has no one ever had kids?  They are brutally honest and they really aren't concerned with offending you.  The last time I checked we don't go on rants about how wrong children are and spend our lives worrying about what was said.  That's a pretty simplified example I know, but life isn't really all that complicated.  It's pretty simple really.  We are the ones that complicate things.

Move some furniture around.  Think of it this way.  You have this huge sofa.  It blocks passage to the restroom and makes it hard to get from the kitchen to the table because of its location in the house.  That sofa represents your largest obstacle in life, be it your job, school, your dreams, or whatever.  The sofa is heavy though so that's why it has been in that same spot for so long.  The thing is if you just moved it to the other side of the room, you would change the entire look of the room and open up the passages to get to where you need to go.  That's life kids. Sometimes you just have to move some furniture around.  Move some outlooks around.  Move a way of thinking around.  Life is simple like I said.  It came with an instruction book.  We spend so much time looking at the huge sofa we can't see the windows.  We can't see our way to the restroom and we desperately have to pee.  We've lost our focus.  We look around and down instead of up.  I don't have to understand differences and neither do you. You'll make yourself crazy trying to figure it all out and it isn't really your job.  What you do have to do is respect that God made all of us different and thank God that he did.  How boring it would be if we were all the same. Love everyone like Jesus and leave the rest up to Him. In other words let the man do His job.  Move some furniture, move the obstacles that keep you from loving others or respecting others and watch the view of the window open up.  You might just change your life.

Worthless

OK guys, listen....I have been worthless today.  Worth-less, less than worthy of oxygen.  I have actually used oxygen that someone worthy of life sustaining oxygen might have needed. I have literally wasted hours of today and I kind of feel bad about it.  Kind of.... Here's the thing yesterday I spent about three hours cleaning and organizing my garage and that is where I finally have come to get a different view to see if I could come up with something to write.  I'm sitting on a chair that is going in a garage sale next month with my garage door open just looking at the fruit of my labor and watching it rain when it occurred to me I could write here.

I'm still just exhausted.  A week ago tomorrow I woke up and the prediction was that Irma was heading for us.  It had shifted yet again overnight and I was just spent.  The ups and downs, the build up was just too much.  I'm not sure I've actually completely checked back into my life.  I mean, I think I have to an extent because the laundry is getting done, dinner is being served and my bed continues to be made by my own hand but the rest of it?  I'm not so sure... I went outside and pulled weeds today for an hour or so, I showered and dressed, and I have had breakfast and lunch.  My kids have been working on homework and I have been staring at a blank page and doing crossword puzzles and talking on the phone in my room with no stimulation from the television or Pandora or anything.  Just staring at this blank page thinking, "What on earth can I say?" I found the lightbulb moment while sitting in a clean garage watching it rain.

The thing is I feel like I spent an entire week running a marathon that I had not trained for.  I feel like I was running and running and running and the finish like just kept moving further back.  I was on a treadmill without the emergency shut off and it was run or die and now I've gotten off the track and I don't know where I was.  I don't remember what track I was on. It is like everything is either before the hurricane and after the hurricane...as if life has somehow been altered a bit.  Are you with me?  Have you been here?  Maybe some of you have.  I feel bad about it actually because we really lucked out here and it weakened before it hit us and as I said before we were locked down in a shelter and didn't actually see any of it.  Our home even came through it virtually unscathed and this makes me feel like I'm not worthy of my feelings.  As if I am not entitled to them because I still have my home in tact.  I don't know.  I'm on unchartered territory here.

I am so thankful for all the messages and phone calls from friends and family checking in and wanting us to be ok before the storm.  There were so many that it was almost overwhelming and while I appreciated the concern it almost furthered my fears as if people were now talking to me because they didn't think we were going to make it. The weather reports made it seem like we might not make it.  It was the largest hurricane to form in the Atlantic...ever.  It is a lot to process.  The thing about all those phone calls is...they have stopped.  The messages have stopped.  We're all good now...uncertain death has been averted so no need to check in.  Forget about the fact that I don't know what day it is and as I feel like I've lost two weeks out of my life I'll never get back and I still sometimes cry in the shower.  We didn't die so we're good.

It reminds me of when my mother was dying.  People came out of the woodwork to help and love on us and be there for us and then once she was gone they all went away.  A week or two later and everyone is back to their own lives and assume you are business as usual.  They don't realize that your entire life has been forever altered and everything is now before your mother died and after and you have no idea how life just goes on.  You can't seem to figure out why everyone else can move on but you can't.  Why it is so easy for others and not for you. What is wrong with you?

I have always thought there is comfort in being around other people.  I don't do alone well. Not that I don't have alone time and enjoy getting custody of the remote or reading without interruptions because I do but I'm a people person.  My mother would give me the silent treatment as a punishment because I need someone to talk to and it was effective.  I don't know how to handle awkward silences.  I can't even go to get a massage without talking which defeats the purpose because I'm incapable of relaxing so I just don't do it.  The thing is, I love my people.  I love all of them...even when I think they are nuts.  Sometimes it just makes me love them more.  I try to text and call and keep up with everyone and when I only hear from people because I might you know...go with Dorothy and Toto via hurricane it makes me sad. I don't comprehend it.

I'm over here like...."What. Just. Happened?"  Have you been here?  Have you had these thoughts?  Have you felt this way before?  Maybe it wasn't a hurricane, maybe it was something else, maybe it was a tornado, or a flood, or something else entirely.  Listen to me on this God is with you in the storm.  I think part of the problem is that we forget that He's with us AFTER the storm as well.  I can't tell which end is up.  I've gone so gray I think I'll blind people if the light hits my head just right. I've gone through ALL the hurricane cookies and I was already ten pounds up from where I want to be weight wise.  My shoulders are up to my ears with tension and I'm scared to take a nap.  Why?  I have no idea but I can't do it.  I look on Denis Phillips' Facebook page to check the weather like it's my job.  I have forgotten that God is with me through the storm and after the storm.  He's with me for the fallout.  When the dust settles and you are left to do life again God knows.  He's there.  He's in for it.  He won't leave you.  He won't forsake you.  He is the God who stops the wind and calms the sea.  He is the God who turns day into night and night back into day. Nothing is too hard for him. Are you going through a storm?  Have you just endured a storm in life and come out the other side?

Remember when I said I felt kinda bad about how I was feeling? Well I've decided to give myself permission to have my feelings and not feel bad about them.  If you need permission I'll give it to you too.  Have your feelings. Psalm 107:28-31 "Yet when they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, the Lord brought them out of their distress.  He calmed the storm and its waves quieted down. So they rejoiced that the waves became quiet, and he led them to their desired haven.  Let them give thanks to the Lord for his gracious love and for his awesome deeds on behalf of mankind." " Psalm 89:8-9 Lord God All-Powerful, there is no one like you.  You are strong, Lord, and always faithful.  You rule the stormy see.  You can calm its angry waves."

Deuteronomy 31:8 " It is the LORD who goes before you.  He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you.  Do not fear or be dismayed".  Do not fear of be dismayed.  Do you see that?  God went before us and He didn't leave us.  He had us and still has us.  Why do I always forget that part?  Do you?  Have you?  I'm not sure but I think maybe the aftershock of the hurricane is just as bad as the build up.  I still wouldn't trade the experience though.  A friend told me I was crazy for trading a maybe fifteen minute tornado for a week long hurricane.  Maybe that's so.  Maybe I am crazy for wanting this life.  All I know is that being here is making me stronger...even on days like today when I feel weak.  On days when I think I can figure it out on my own and I avoid the blank page because I'm scared of what God will tell me there. I keep waiting for the God who loves me to figure me out, to give up on me and walk away because I'm not worth it.  I'm not worthy but then...who is?  Yet he waits for me.  He finds me in the garage when I've hidden in my room all day.  Who does that?  God does.  So today I've been a mess, tomorrow I might still be a mess to be honest but who knows.  His mercies are new every day.  I saw there were some more disturbances they are keeping an eye out for but my running days are just about over so I guess I better stock up on cookies...you know....for emergency use only.

Irma

As the world is aware hurricane Irma set her sights on Florida this last week.  The predictions as to where her strike would occur and how strong of an impact she would have were all over the place.  First west then east no west again.  As the stereotypical woman, she didn’t seem to be able to make up her mind. You’d think she were deciding where to have dinner.  Memes of Irma took over the internet and after the destruction of Harvey we waited in anticipation for Irma who was to be the largest hurricane to have ever formed in the Atlantic.  My family potentially sitting in her path.

My husband as you may be aware works in the medical field as a pharmacist and the pharmacies were packed with people trying to get their medications early so they could flee the state.  The interstate became a parking lot and gas became scarce and we prepared to hunker down.  Then the report came Saturday morning that Irma had a real beef with us and looked to be making a beeline straight for us. Gas stations were closed and after retrieving our daughter from her college an hour away we were down to half a tank of gas. We didn’t have hurricane shutters and we didn’t have boards to put up to cover our windows and those who were not apart of the mass exodus had already bought all the plywood around.  I have always thought there was comfort in being around other people.  That said my husband and I left early and registered at the nearby shelter and went home to pack everything up. 
As you are probably aware we are from the Midwest, as you further are now aware we now live in the great state of Florida.  What you may not be aware of is that when the largest hurricane possibly ever is coming at you everyone in the Midwest becomes an expert on hurricanes.  They also, not understanding how it isn’t so simple to just pack up and leave when you are not on vacation here and you have jobs and responsibilities, think you’re stupid for not leaving. My inbox, private message box, and text box filled up with family and friends telling me to get out and drive 1100 miles back from whence we came.  We needed to come there to stay with every friend we had.  Fear and anticipation of what could happen and the idea of us not fleeing for our lives drove them to tell us how to handle the situation even though they had never been in this situation.  This did not help the women of the house. My middle child was filled with anxiety from the start and now she was on hyper drive.  I was crying in the shower.  My husband was at his wits end with scared women and trying to get us to calm down and we would be ok because we were together.  Where was our faith?
We have family here.  My cousin who lives on the other side of the state was very concerned and continued to call on us and check in, wanting to make sure we were taking this very seriously and that we were going to be safe.  When told we were going to a shelter I could hear her relief.  We have other family here that we never heard from.  They left the state and never once thought to call us to see if we were going to be OK.  I think that is one disappointment that has us the most flummoxed of all, especially when it is pointed out to us that they had left, hit the road, got out of dodge, without a thought to the family members who were new and had never experienced this type of storm before. I’m not sure how you make sense of that.  Maybe you don’t, you just realize where you stand.  Nevertheless, gas stations were closed and there was no way out by this point.  We prepared for the worse and hoped for the best
We arrived at the shelter just before 3 p.m. on Saturday and started carrying in our supplies and looking for our spot that would serve as our “home base” for our stay.  It was already getting full and by the time we were on lockdown on Sunday we were at capacity with 1700 people camped out and ready to ride out the storm together.  We had hours to prepare and pack.  We had our supplies pretty well put together.  Food, cases of water, important supplies like games and other forms of entertainment were near the top of the list. When you are camping in a strange environment surrounded by strangers it is important to have things to do for not only you but the kids no matter how old your kids may be.  The idea of going stir crazy didn’t sound appealing to any of us. My girls even brought homework to work on for school, desperate times and an overwhelming sense of responsibility drove that I believe.
I’m not sure what I thought this experience was going to be like.  Packing up my kids and going to a shelter to ride out a storm was never on my ‘to do’ list.  Had I to do it all over again…I wouldn’t change a thing and I’ll tell you why.  Jesus was there.  He was in the five-year-old little girl who was excited to be camping with her family in her school where some of her friends were doing the same.  He was in the woman named Miriam who said, “We are going to get through this Heather, we’re going to get through this together.” He was in the woman who came alone but was finally joined by her older neighbor that she had convinced to come too.  He was in the couple who are customers in my store who talked to me about churches in the area.  He was in the young guy (I say young guy but he literally could have been 35 as everyone seems young to me at this point) who brought his service dog and his laptop and set it up and invited all to join him to watch the weather to see how things were going.  He was in the service dog even because he never made a sound but somehow, I felt safer with him there.  He was in the officers and national guard who were there to protect and serve.  He was in the numerous volunteers who made food for everyone there three times a day.  He was in the young mother of that five-year-old and her one-year old who allowed me to dote on her children and her husband who I ended up knowing from work as he had been a student at my store.  He was everywhere I turned.  I saw the hands and feet of God at work in an elementary school turned hurricane shelter.
I never once saw any of the storm.  I heard the rain that sounded like rushing water on the roof.  I saw things on the computer screen showing the news and forecasts but I didn’t see anything of the storm and that helped me.  I think it helped all of us.  We could have been there for any reason at that point.  We could have been camping in a school not for survival but for a fundraiser or anything.  But survive we did.  The storm came and shook up everything but we made it to tell the story.  The next morning, we packed up and went home not knowing what we would find or if we would even have a home once we got there.  What we found when we arrived was leaves.  We surveyed the entire house and all we found were leaved and a plastic piece from the side of the house that covers wires that just needed snapped back on.  The neighbors on either side of me had damage.  A tree down that blocked entrance through the front door on one side and screen from the lanai and vinyl fencing that needed snapped back together on the other side. Another tree down the road was down.  We had leaves and a front door that now sticks for some reason.  It seemed to me as if God had covered our home with his hand as the storm passed by.  I was shocked at first but then I remembered all the prayer warriors we had praying for us and then it made perfect sense. 
We learned a lot from this experience.  First, our God is bigger than any hurricane. Second, we really can get through anything together. Third, God has plans for us.  I know this because HE calmed the storm.  He calmed a storm that was to hit our area at a cat 4 and it hit us at a cat 2.  Irma caused devastation on her path to us and there are parts of Florida that fared far worse than we did.  I urge you to see what you can do to help those in need here in Florida as well as in Texas.  Help a neighbor without power, help them with the clean up of the aftermath.  Offer a hot meal or shower.  From what I saw in the shelter people are still pretty good in a crisis. We as humans can still rise to the occasion and show the enemy that we stand with God.  Let’s do that.  Let’s live like that.  Neighbor helping neighbor.   

My Heart Hurts, Will You Pray With Me?

My heart hurts.  I'm sitting in the student center at my daughter's college where I'm supposed to be working on my (self appointed) comeback.  Writing the book that might be...the end of the trilogy.  I'm not sure why there needs to be a third or why it should end with three, maybe that is how I'm convincing myself to do it.  To go through the struggle of finding the words again.  I'm distracted however, watching all of these college kids coming in and out, eating food that doesn't seem like breakfast food for 8:15 in the morning.  Some are plugged in just as I am, looking at their phones or laptops or notes.  I wonder if they are listening to a Danny Gokey station on Pandora like I am.  Somehow I doubt it.

None of these are the reason for my heart hurting though.  A young girl who I worked with was found killed yesterday morning along with her young son and my heart just aches.  She was eighteen and had her whole life in front of her.  I look at these kids and again I'm struck by how senseless her death is.  Yesterday I think I was just in shock, unable to reconcile the information, refusing to understand that it was true.  A fireman while on his way to work happened to look in the direction of her apartment and notice there was a fire.  He called for back up and soon there was an investigation underway.  She had injuries to her body inconsistent with the fire.

In the short time that I knew this young girl, I knew her to be a quiet, soft spoken girl.  She was beautiful and her smile was full of joy, especially when asked about her young son.  Her face would light up a thousand suns and she would joyfully tell you all about him.  She was very bright and caught onto things much quicker than I have.  I often would ask her for help with something that I wasn't sure about or didn't know how to do.  She was always willing to help.  She, though radiant, didn't seem to want to draw attention to herself.  She was nervous to use the intercom. We would try to get her to step out of her shell some, though she would make comments on occasion that were just so uncharacteristically funny and surprise us.  Honestly, because she was so quiet and we were often so busy and concentrating on our work I don't know much else about her other than that she was one of many children in her family. It seems like so little to know about someone and yet in the nine months that I knew her we often didn't work the same shifts.  Although, how much do we really know about each other anyway?

Today I read where they arrested the young man who had been her child's father and had at one time been in a relationship with her although from the comments it seems they were no longer in a relationship.  He is twenty years old.  He is charged with two counts of murder and one count of arson. If convicted on all counts he faces a lifetime in prison and possibly the death penalty.  I also read that he stabbed her and cut her throat before setting fire to the apartment. This bit of information just adds to the horror of it all.

I'm so sad that this has happened.  Two young lives have been taken and one life is essentially over.  All the hopes and dreams and potential just squashed and I can't reconcile how this could happen.  How this young man makes the decision to do something like this.  How anyone could look at a life and see no value.

Two families are affected by this and the overwhelming sadness and loss and heartbreak they must be experiencing right now makes me hurt for them.  People I have never met and yet they are my family and your family too.  Brothers and sisters in Christ, fellow journeymen on this blue and green ball called Earth that we are all just trying to venture through together.  Children of God who were created by God but who live in a fallen, broken world. Psalm34:18 says, The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.  I pray that they are leaning on the Lord during this time.  I hope they have that hope that they will see her and her son again one day in glory. Could you pray with me?  Could you pray for all those who are hurt and broken and suffering because of this?  Could you pray for peace?  Could you pray for this messed up broken world that we live in?  We need to be there for each other.  We're called to love each other. We're called to love like Jesus.  Every life has value.  Every single life.  Each man, woman, and child was born into this world as a beautiful creation and gift from God and somewhere along the way we've just gotten so lost.  We've lost sight of the One who holds everything together.  I'm praying, will you join me?  Rest in peace sweet ones.