Thoughts After the Pain

While we were at Texas Children’s Hospital (my son was having neurosurgery work-up) we had at least 8 hours to occupy while my son had tests run on our last day there.. We passed by the chapel many times that week but I never had time to stop. The opportunity seemed right so my husband and I sat in the little chapel. It was round, the ceiling had tiny lights that looked like stars, and the lighting changed over the course of ten minutes or so until all the lights dimmed and the tiny stars seemed to twinkle. I admired the quaint little room for the ten minute round of lighting changes. As the lights went from dark to light, I felt a familiar presence I hadn’t felt in a while. It was the feeling of the most loved of friends. It’s the one friend that knows me like no one will ever know me and loves me more than anyone could ever love me. It was the presence of the Lord.

I have always thought of myself as a woman of great faith. I had inspiration to give to others in their times of need and I believed God could cover and heal any hurt, but for the past seven years, the hurt in my own personal life had grown and finally gave way to more doubt than unfaltering belief. Since my son was diagnosed, everything became more difficult. The older he got, the harder it was to deny what the disease was robbing from him. He has been denied the opportunities that naturally come to other little boys his age. Despite it all, my husband and I continued the same plans to grow our family as we had planned before either of our boys were born. He and I were blessed with our two daughters. Our life was indeed a mixed bag of blessings and sorrow. After his diagnosis, we would be blessed greatly with things like when our girls were born, but were faced with things like mounting medical bills that strained our finances so greatly that we’d barely were able to afford groceries for the month, if at all. Life felt more like a rollercoaster than the dream we had once envisioned.

Then I got sick. Many probably thought I became incredibly selfish when I anxiously wanted to find a cure for my Rheumatoid Arthritis when my little boy was still suffering. I may have been. I had spent the last seven years fighting for him and I didn’t want a disease to change that. I also didn’t want anything to take me from him, or any of my other children. I wanted to be here to experience the joys and sorrows because this life was meant for me and no one else, despite how much I wanted to rid our life of the lows we frequently experience. I wanted so badly to assure my place on this Earth with my family, yet my faith was weak. I didn’t understand why I had been handed this illness in addition to everything else we were given. “Why Lord do you give me a disease that is wrecking my body when you know I have a son with epilepsy? Have you forgot I NEED to physically assist him?” Enough was enough and I could not understand this cruel addition to our already full plate. I had no encouraging words of wisdom or anticipation of His healing. I felt lost and alone and I felt like He had abandoned me.

Many people can quote words of wisdom like I once did, or jump out of bed with boundless enthusiasm and a positive outlook when their life doesn’t feel like a constant tug of war. It amazed me how many people became judgmental and claimed “they would have done it better”. It’s like the first time parents who sit and judge those who already have children, claiming they will get it “right” just to eventually find out that parenthood isn’t about getting it “right” as much as it is about doing the best you can. Once someone is no longer sitting on the sidelines but rather in the situation, the answers aren’t so clear and it isn’t as easy as once thought. This is where compassion and understanding grow. It grows out of the times we are at the top of the rollercoaster of life staring down from the top of the hill almost sick with the anticipation of the next steep decline. It’s when we are facing fear, and maybe the unknown, that we possibly have our best understanding of those people we once judged. To be honest, I don’t like the person I once was, I lacked compassion and understanding. I still don’t like many of my own qualities and I know I have a lot to learn, but I do know most people only desire understanding. So this was my life; I felt like the Lord had abandoned me, I feared constant judgement, and all the while my disease, as well as Aiden’s, was getting worse. I was sick of the rollercoaster and wanted off.

One of the worst days I had this last week in Texas was the first day we were admitted into the Epilepsy Monitoring Unit. We had been running nonstop since we left home. I was already hurting but when I laid down in our son’s room (on the tiny pull out sofa barely big enough for Doug and I), the pain I was already in got much worse. Nothing I could do was enough to ease my pain. my husband rubbed my hands and wrists until I fell asleep but I eventually woke and crawled into bed with our son. His hospital bed allowed me to sit up a bit and we were already playing musical beds as we adjusted to our new surroundings. There is something more than cuddling next to him that gives me comfort. I feel like I have been allowed to understand him more since my own diagnosis, and maybe he understands me, you never know…  It is a blessing and a curse because I often wonder if he feels pain like I did that night, yet he struggles to communicate. Now I am more aware where I wasn’t before because I have been allowed to suffer. My eyes have been opened to many things since I now physically suffer.

So that afternoon when I felt the Lord’s presence so strong, I was reminded that we aren’t guaranteed an easy life. Many children in that very hospital were facing much more than I. You don’t have to be a Christian to realize this. Nowhere are we told life will be as we wish but we are given one gift, that is life itself. Life is precious. I need to accept that my life will never be free of pain, physical or emotional, but I am given the opportunity to wake up each day. Some would finish this by saying “it’s what you decide to do with it that matters”, well, I disagree. I often don’t have a choice what I can do with my day. It has been at the mercy of one disease or another for over seven years now. I just can’t wake up with a will to conquer over my disease. I can’t will my pain away anymore than my son can stop himself from having a seizure. We deal with what we can’t control first and then we decide what we can do from there. Things don’t change just because we want them to change, so reminds me of my need for people and a God who understand.

My fear of my disease has been mostly about my own fear of death. Although my faith teaches me that there is more to life after death, I was afraid. I began to allow this fear to control my faith. It was a reminder of Jesus’ prayer in the garden before his own death that allowed me to once again embrace my faith. Jesus, knowing the outcome of his own death and what it would accomplish, still agonized over it so much that he sweat drops of blood. Whether this is a metaphor doesn’t matter as much as the fear even he had over the events before him. God wanted me to know it’s okay to feel unsure of what is before me.

My son and I will still struggle but we will do it together. The path we face is unclear but we are reminded of his presence in quiet moments in a small room with twinkling lights or through people put in our lives for a reason. We are either on the sidelines watching the rollercoaster of a life someone else is living or we are in the front seat of it, it’s the understanding and unconditional loves that helps us get through because you will never know when you will be in the unexpected. All you have is right now, the precious life you are gifted. I’m going to take it, pain and all because sometimes pain is the only way God saves us from ourselves. Pain is a despised beauty that can shape our understanding and allow us great compassion. Just because it isn’t understood doesn’t mean it has no purpose. I’m grateful I still have today to learn.

*d*

Mary, Did You Know?

There are many things to think about when recalling the Easter story; self sacrificing love, victory over death, fear, sadness, forgivenes and much more, but this Easter I want to focus on one small figure at the foot of the cross. Mary. “Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene.” John 19:25 (KJV)

There she stood at the cross, the foot of which was most likely soaked in blood. I imagine the small divot where the cross was pounded into the ground was also pooled with blood. I can see her tear soaked face looking up, squinting in the sun, trying to catch a glimpse of her baby. She probably saw no more than his chest painfully rising upward while he was struggling to breathe. I can imagine her getting as close to the cross as she could, possibly soaking her own clothes in his trickling blood. Maybe it would have been just enough for her to feel a tip if her finger on his toe. A small touch that would say, “Mother is here.” It wasn’t likely that she would have a chance of touching any part of him, but at the very least, she probably came into contact with his blood. He was beaten severely before they nailed him to the cross and the scene that beheld his mother’s eyes was no doubt horrific. But she was his mother and that’s what a good mother does, she’s with her children in their time of need. She probably got as close as she could so her baby would know mother was there.

I know how much it hurts me anytime my children are hurt. In about a months time my youngest son will have neurosurgery, no doubt the reason why my Easter post took this topic. I can’t imagine the moment my little boy gets wheeled back for surgery without tearing up. I know my son will be in the care of the very best neurosurgeon but it doesn’t relieve most of my worries. I will have the obvious worry until I can touch him in recovery. I will feel relieved once I can touch my son and let him know, “Mommy is here.”

There is comfort in those words, “Mommy is here.” I find it a beautifully designed plan of God’s to allow the Son of Man to be born of a woman. He was God with a human mother and by every description of her, she was a wonderful mother. She was loving, honest, and faithful. She obeyed God with no thought of herself when she was told she was with child. She knew she was a virgin but what would her husband Joseph say? How did she know he’d still take her as his wife? Did she worry about these things when God asked her to carry His holy vessel? We will never know her intimate thoughts but she knew she was going to participate in a plan that would forever change humanity. I think about that when I look at the difficulty I face. My problems will not change the world and my plans will not be recounted for generations to come, but yet, I worry. I don’t think I have the faith Mary possessed. I know I am not the woman of faith God needs me to be, but I’m trying. I also know God has not asked me to sacrifice my son as he did Mary. What does this story of mother and son mean to me? Can it also have meaning for you?

I can only imagine what was also going through Mary’s mind during the crucifixion. There was little detail regarding Mary during this moment in time, but let’s try to stand with Mary and look at it through the eyes of a mother. Here she stood at the foot of a cross, watching her bruised, beaten, bloody, and dying son struggle for his life, possibly recalling the moment his life began. She may have thought of every other beautiful moment she had with her son since his birth, and now, the torment she must have felt as she was helpless to save him. I can see her anger for those who were mocking and belittling him. I can feel her agony as she realized what she was witnessing was indeed reality and when she finally could touch her boy, he’d be dead. Even if she had knowledge of his resurrection, she still had to witness his horrible death. It was a death he didn’t deserve because he was wrongfully accused. He was tortured and he was humiliated. He was an innocent man publicly shamed as a criminal and no one knew this better than Mary. This makes me think of the song, “Mary Did You Know?” Did she see what Jesus saw in the garden as he asked for this to be passed from him on the day of his birth? Did she look at the perfect son she had just delivered and see the death that awaited him? Christ did, and he was so fearful, he agonized over it. The Bible says, “And he was withdrawn from them about a stone’s cast, and kneeled down and prayed, saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.” Luke 22:41-42 (KJV) “And being in agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling to the ground.” Luke 22:44 (KJV) He didn’t want to experience the pain, even when he knew the effect his death would have on mankind. This verse comforts me because Jesus had all knowledge of his death, spoke to God honestly about his fears in prayer, and asked that God’s will be done. In difficult times, I take comfort in the obedience Christ displays for us here. He felt fear over his life, just like I have. He prayed and told God how he didn’t want to experience the pain, just as I have. Then, he asked for and accepted God’s will, just as I am still trying to learn. God doesn’t ask any more from us than he did from his own son. Mary and Jesus both obeyed, even when they saw the tragedy ahead.

Jesus even obeyed while he was dying. Jesus spoke few words as he died, but he spoke these words no doubt out of love and obedience, “When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman behold thy son. He saith to the disciple, Behold thy mother! And from that hour that disciple took her unto his home. After this, Jesus knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the scripture might be fulfilled, saith, I thirst.” John 19:26-27 (KJV) His mother, Mary was most likely widowed at this time and would have no home and no income. It was customary during this time in history for women to be put in the care of someone else at the passing of the man who was caring for her. Jesus didn’t forget his mother standing there. He made sure he took care of her in his most desperate hour. I can recall many times where my husband and I were experiencing the same pain, yet he took care of my needs before his own. It’s hard to forget that kind of love. Jesus was displaying self-sacrificing love two times over on the cross. He was sacrificing his life for mankind and put his mother’s needs before his own while he did it. My husband’s actions will never be of that magnitude, but through his actions, I have no doubt how much he loves me. When one person puts your needs before their own, they are displaying the same love Christ displayed at the cross.

Mary saw her son give up his own life shortly after this. He was removed from the cross and it was finished. In God’s great plan, taking care of Jesus’ earthly mother was included. He didn’t say, “Thanks for carrying my holy vessel Mary, get lost.” He had a plan for her care right to the end. He honored his mother. Three days later, Jesus rose from the grave proving victory over death. He didn’t forget his mother then either; Acts 1:14 says, “These all continued with one accord in prayer and supplication, with the women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brethren.” (KJV) Jesus spent time with the disciples, and even his mother after he rose from the dead. They prayed and worshipped together until the time he ascended into heaven. Again, the Bible didn’t mention the interaction between mother and son during this time, but there must have been joy in Mary’s heart once she saw her resurrected son. All the pain, sorrow, and grief of the cross must have melted away. She may have spent her time with him, once again admiring the wondrous works God was doing through him. Maybe she finally felt the magnitude of her pregnancy and the angel’s words to her saying she was with child.

These days, motherhood begins with two pink lines, no proclamation from heaven but the news is still as sweet. God had a plan for the mother of his son and never forgot her faithfulness. I imagine he always smiled on the woman who said, “Yes” to a plan that was uncertain for a woman in her time. She had the faith to answer God’s call and follow that all the way to the foot of a bloody cross where she watched her beloved die. His life did not end in vain. No, he had a purpose and in it, so did she. It was her “Yes” that helped complete a plan put in motion before Adam ever placed his feet upon the new creation. God had Mary in mind when he decided one final sacrifice had to be made to unite man with God. He had a plan for him and he had a plan for her. There was death and tears at that cross and there was blood, a lot of blood. Mary was probably covered in her son’s blood just as we are when we say “Yes” as she did. When we say “Yes” he has a plan for us, all the way to the end because he doesn’t forget. Like Mary, he has also promised us a new home. An eternal one. Mary wasn’t afraid to come close to the cross because she was Jesus’ mother and she’d follow him anywhere. I have no doubt Mary would take our hands and lead us to the cross where we too can be covered by the blood of the one last sacrifice because there we can find love. There lies the ultimate form of love and forgiveness. Follow Mary. Take the journey to the foot of the cross with her this Easter and ask, “Mary, did you know?”

*d*

Faith Not Fear

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After a summer sprinkled with fear and anxiety, I wanted to discuss fear in hopes that maybe I could encourage someone else from giving into fear as I did. I gave into it months after I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis and the disease began to progress quicker than I anticipated. Instead of trusting that God was in control, I decided I was better off fixing the problem myself and I began trying to negotiate a different outcome. I began working like mad to show God how serious I was about changing everything in my life if he would just spare me this disease. When things did not change in the way I wanted them to, I became fearful and I began to shut down. I spent more time crying and less time enjoying my kids. I worried about myself so much that I neglected to see those who were suffering around me. I was crippled by fear and blinded by my illness. It all came to a head while folding my laundry on a Thursday afternoon. My anxiety suddenly boiled over and I became an emotional disaster. I began pleading with God, tears landing on the laundry piled up on my lap. “Why Lord?” I asked, “How will I ever be happy again? Don’t you know my struggles and you choose to give me something else?! IT ISN’T FAIR!!” Did He forget that I have four children and one is disabled? He has a health issues, including epilepsy, and the addition of my illness seemed like a cruel slap in the face. I cried so hard that I felt like a piece of my soul could have been torn out with my tears.

I was supposed to attend my first Women of Faith Conference in a day and something was trying to convince me not to go. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be writing this today. It took one weekend to change my perspective. It took a few hours to remind me of all the things I somehow forgot. It took only a few minutes for me to realize I was not a woman of fear, I was a woman of faith.

I want to start by running down a short list of the benefits to beginning a relationship with one of women’s favorite bachelors, fear. Fear is a seductive and mysterious partner. Many women enter into an often secret relationship with fear while juggling relationships with a spouse, children and/or their friends. It’s a relationship familiar to most women. One thing is for certain, it’s hard to hide this secret affair women have with this sly beau because there are signs that she is indeed cozying up to fear. Women will make time to meet regularly with this companion; in the middle of the night instead of sleeping, nervously inviting it along to appointments, hiding it in a drawer while it dictates her at work, or she can be seen fighting with it while she anxiously watches her kids at the park. The question is, what is so great about fear that makes women want to wedge it, if necessary, into their life? And once there, stubbonrly hold on to it?

Lets expose fear for what it is by illustration. If fear were on a dating website, I will guarantee the profile would read something like this:

Name: Fear (a.k.a. Anxiety, Distress, Doubt, Panic, Unease, and Worry) ~Sounds great thus far, right?~

Age: Timeless

Physical Attributes: Heavy. Intimidating. Strong.

Best quotes from fear:

“I want to change every last bit of you. For example, I can help rid you of that haircut one handful of hair at a time. I can also help you lose weight by reconditioning your digestive system one stomach ache at a time.”

“I will occupy every last of your thoughts. You will no longer have to crowd your mind with nuisance pleasantries.”

“Eventually it will just be you, me, and our blossoming relationship. You won’t have time for anyone else.”

“I want every moment with you and it’s okay if you want to stop doing those annoying daily responsibilities.”

Wow! Doesn’t every girl dream of a controlling relationship with something or someone who wants to change every last bit of the person you are or want to become? If your answer is “no” then you need to reconsider what kind of relationship you are seeking when you allow fear into your life.
Why do we keep choosing fear from the list of available companions? Why do we fool ourselves into thinking that choosing to partner with a controlling emotion is normal and acceptable. We deserve better!

If it were up to me, fear like all emotions, would be defined like a drug rather than an emotion. Emotions would be required to list all potential side effects, then we would know the long term effects of every emotion. It’s no wonder women have such difficulty navigating through life being the emotional creatures we are. I know I can be a ball of numerous different emotions at the same time which means I am also experiencing a great deal of side effects. So instead of choosing to look at the dating profile of another emotion, let’s look at this profile.

Name: Jesus (a.k a. Savior, Son of God, Hosanna, Friend)

Age: Eternal

Physical Attributes: Scarred while making the ultimate sacrifice.

Best quotes to describe Jesus:

“….He will not grow tired or weary and His understanding no one can fathom.”

“For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime….”

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you….”

“The Lord is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, forgiving iniquity and transgression….”

“….I have loved you with an everlasting love….”

Which of the two profiles would you choose? Would you choose the one that will take over and control your life or the one that loved you before he met you? Do you choose the one that will build upon the ashes of the broken person it makes you or builds you up and loves you unconditionally? One cannot coexist with the other. The Bible is full of versus telling us not to fear. Here are a few more examples.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and with thanksgiving let your requests be known to God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Jesus Christ.”

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He might exalt, casting all of your anxieties on him, because He cares for you.”

“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.”

“I say to those who have an anxious heart, ‘Be strong, fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengence, with the recompense of God. He will come save you.”

God knows the profile of fear. He knows how it destroys lives. He knows how it will destroy your heart. He understands how crippling fear can be. He is concerned over the power fear can have over you. You could read a verse where God encourages us not to fear at least once a day for over a year. Choosing a relationship with God means that you no longer need a relationship with fear. A relationship with fear is a destructive affair. Fear wants you to doubt God. Fear wants to you think there is no joy left when times are difficult. God says that the most joy is found in times of deep dispair. God wants us to know he cares deeply for us and he will show you victory in all circumstances. He wants us to know that the true love of God is free from fear. His love is confident and sure, and He loves you exactly the way you are. When you choose Christ over fear, when you give God control, no matter what happens, there is victory in Him. We can have the confidence to call ourselves women of faith when we obey His words and put our trust where it belongs, with Him.

I came back from the conference that weekend with a changed heart. I let go of fear and grabbed onto my faith. I have confidence that my life has purpose and meaning, especially with the difficulty that ultimately builds my faith. Each day I remind myself to lift my thoughts to Heaven and see the one who loves me enough to allow suffering that brings me to joy.

*d*

Beauty in a Different Wrapper

We sat alone and waited for the neurologist. “My son has a neurologist,” I thought, “how did this happen?” We stared at the computer sitting on a long table. Shortly we’d be able to see what was causing our baby’s seizures. It was like waiting to unveil and unknown enemy. The neurologist would soon come in, press a few buttons on that computer, and show us what was so different about our little boy. He had a number of different tests over the two days we had been at the hospital but only the M.R.I. would allow us to actually look at what this Tuberous Sclerosis Complex was doing to our baby. The name was foreign to us but yet it was suddenly going to be a part of our lives. A mere three days ago we had a normal little boy but now we had that little boy plus a rare disease unknown to us and most of the hospital staff.

We spent several hours on the phone trying to explain what our little boy had and what it meant for his future but we only managed to muddle through the numerous conversations with family and friends. Whatever this Tuberous Sclerosis was, I hated it and I wanted no part of what it was doing to my son.

My husband and I looked at each other. We gave one another the same look; the look that asks, “What are we going to do?” I am sure I had just as much desperation in my eyes as I saw in his. We felt defeated, broken, and very much alone.

It was in those moments after receiving that terrible news that our life seemed to stop so abruptly. It stopped, we stopped, and for the first time, we had no clue as to where our lives were heading. The addition of this terrible knowledge gave us a heightened awareness of how normal the lives were of those same family and friends we had those muddled conversarions with in those first few hours after we arrived at the hospital. Our normal was gone. I realized everything had changed and life would not go on for us as it once did. We were handed back our life in shambles as it was our turn to get the terrible news. Why did we have to be the ones? Why did our son have to be sick? Things like this don’t happen so close to home, let alone in our home. What was worse was the terrible feeling of isolation. No matter who called us, hugged us, or offered comfort, no one could stand in and take our pain. The gnawing yearning to find someone, anyone who would intimately understand our pain was overwhelming. We didn’t want to feel so….. alone…..

Last year I had an idea, I wanted to start a blog. At first, I really didn’t want to share it with the world. I wanted to keep it within a limited reach. My friend and I loved to write and what better way to turn what we love into a little more. Over the years I have wrote a few thought-filled pieces for my Facebook friends updating them on the condition of my son but the response was minimal at best. I thought that maybe I should be the one reaching out to others searching like me.

So we decided we would write. To keep our little blog confidential and comfortable, we began to use just an initial as our names, *d* and ~L~.  This was good for many reasons; we could have the freedom of writing without backlash from hyper-critial people and if we were at the receiving end of negative feedback, they would be cutting down these alternative personas of us, not the actual us, my friend and I could be viewed as equals in our pieces and we would be able to blur the lines of our differences and write cohesively, and hopefully readers could identify with us much easier. We wanted anyone to say, “Yes, I could be *d* or ~L~ and I feel the same way”. A few months after we began our venture, I decided to submit my work and try to reach a little further out into the world. Since my first submission to The Mighty in June, I have twelve pieces on their site and one of those went on to be successfully picked up by Yahoo Health. I am amazed my voice has made it that far. But there is so much more we want to do. There is a definite purpose in our writing, maybe we don’t fully understand what it is, but I know what I would like it to be….. I don’t want anyone to feel as alone as my husband and I did when our son was diagnosed. I want others who feel alone to find a common thread in our writing. The story of my life is a mess but I feel like I need to share it. I want others to know there is hope and happiness in what seems to be the most difficulty.

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I am often in awe of humanity. It’s easy to get tangled in all the bad news shared on television and social media. It makes me sad when stories highlighting the resilience and goodness of humanity occupy only a few short minutes of our day. We are beautiful creatures. My faith teaches me that we are perfectly designed and created but I also understand that my opinion is as different as we are from each other. Nonetheless, we cannot deny the genuine beauty we all possess. We have and inner strength and beauty that makes us move forward in the face of the most impossible feats and dares us to move even further to explore ourselves. Despite the vast array of our own kind, we hold many unspoken, common bonds. Most of us want commpanionship, we want to feel loved, and we are looking for ways to become better versions of ourselves.

No doubt evil has encroached on the heels of humanity. It tempts us to turn our backs on one another, deprive the needy, and think only of what is good for ourselves. The battle of good and evil will exist long after our generations have passed so that means we have to work that much harder, no matter what you believe, to ensure humanity can continue to shine as a beacon of love and grace.

Finding our purpose isn’t always easy. As a child, we think about what we would like to do when we grow up. When we listen closely to our little ones, a good majority of them want to help others in the future. As we grow we learn and change our opinions of what would be best for us. We also think about if what we want to spend the rest of our lives doing is best for us. We take into consideration finances, schooling, and where we would like to live. But we cannot forget those first thoughts we may have had about our future. The possibilities were endless. Today we may not want to pursue a career in service to others but we can still do great things for each other. These acts may only require a moment of your time but they can impact the world one moment at a time for the good of our future.

I want to write. I want to expose the raw nature of my life and sometimes open myself up to critics to be a voice of hope. While I have come to terms with the very real possibility and reality that I will be at the receiving end of negativity, it all becomes worth it when I have successfully reached across the small screen of my phone to put out my virtual hand to another human being that needs to hear the words, “You are not alone.”

We were not meant to be alone. We were gifted one another. Yes, it’s hard when we are gifted with something that is sometimes difficult to understand or appreciate. Sometimes those gifts aren’t as we imagined but once we take the time to unwrap what we have, we can see the goodness under any wrapping. We sometimes have to tear off shame, guilt, fear, and a common flawed nature to find the treasure inside. We have to take the time to understand that an unexpected gift is sometimes the best gift of all.

Life comes with shocking and truly terrifying moments. These moments can sometimes pull us to the edge more times than we would rather admit but if we are all honest with one another, we would say that our toes have all been dangling over that edge. We have all felt the disparate loneliness that we must face alone. No one else can stand in if and when the word cancer, disability, or death is directed at us. No one else can stand alongside the casket of our precious loved one and receive condolences. There are times when we have to stand alone but that doesn’t mean we have to be alone. We can find comfort when a hand reaches out from across that chasm and a voice says, “I have been there too”.

Eventually those voices and hands that reach out to grab us at our most vulnerable moments are those hands that welcome us home. Home indeed can be made of walls, windows, and our personal memories but home is a place where we feel like we belong. I recently had a conversation with my aunt who has struggled most of her life. She, like many people, have felt isolated and alone because she was different. During a recent conversation she said, “For years, all I wanted was my family.” It took years and a lot of heartache but she has found love and acceptance. And she feels like she has a home. She has a place where she is loved beyond the wrapping she had felt was too different to love.

In the reach of our progress, it is sad when there are people who still feel unloved and alone because their wrapping. They are those who identify themselves as “different” or were gifted something precious in a different wrapper. We must not forget, when we are all stripped down to the core of our humanity, we want to be loved, we want to be accepted, and we have fought for a place to belong. So don’t believe the headlines that scream to the masses that life is only for those who come from a predetermined mold. Humanity is for everyone. Life is meant to be cherished and enjoyed and you don’t have to fit a hypothetical criteria to do that.

We learn to grow and truly appreciate what we have when our toes are dangling over the edge. It is then we look back and yearn for that solid ground. Too soon life can change and you may be asked to break the mold. If that time comes, take all the strength of humanity and break it across that divide. Will you help bridge the gap and fill the void with all the wonderful things that make you different and a beautiful part of us all?

*d*

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Beautiful as a Flower

I love my flowerbed. Around March, I get excited about the endless planting possibilities. My favorite color is pink so I usually find a variety of shades and flowers in my favorite color. As much as I adore the color pink, I also know I can improve upon my flowerbed master piece if I added a few complimentary colors. With creativity fueling my spring time thoughts I forget one thing, I don’t live alone. I have five other people who may interject their opinions and since I want to teach my children to share, I must also share. “Darn it!”

This year when I went to the store where I wanted to purchase the perfect pieces to my creation, the kids also came along. If you have ever been shopping with a kid, you know they either want to buy or help pick something out. On this trip, they wanted to put their favorite picks in the flowerbed and plant them themselves. My oldest daughter won over my heart as she asked to plant additional pink flowers. My oldest son decided he wanted orange marigolds. I don’t like marigolds. It isn’t that I don’t like seeing them, I just don’t like seeing them in my flowerbeds. He wanted the dark orange, as to exclaim, “These are mine!”.

“Darn those orange flowers,” I thought. “Why wasn’t his favorite color green like it once was?” I knew how important this was to all of them so I needed to let go and find a way to make us all happy. Then I remembered something about myself.

While planning my wedding ten years ago my husband and I went to a department store to add items to our registry. The woman helping us was probably old enough to be a grandmother. She was sweet like one until she asked us if we wanted to register towels. I was reluctant as we had already purchased towels for the apartment we would share after the wedding. After some pushing, she won over the approval of my husband to register towels. She then inquired of us what colors we were using in our wedding decor. When I answered, “none,” she got annoyed. I explained that I had seven bridesmaids with seven different colored dresses and I used several different shades of pink for the bouquets. She made me feel like a criminal for not conforming to tradition. I wasn’t going to change because she disapproved. And with that, I registered every variety of color towel I could find.

My son was like his mother, different and not bending to conformity. I planted his flowers next to the walkway leading to our house, they look beautiful. I see how they pop out and exclaim, “Different is beautiful!”

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Think about the sky. On most occasions it’s blue or maybe gray, but at sunset, it is sometimes painted in brilliant colors. Hills and roadways can be lined with vivid wildflowers. These are most picturesque, and yet, they are naturally occurring in nature. My favorite is seeing tiny infants grow into unique individuals with distinct personalities. Nature is beautiful because it is different, and so are we. Whose standard are we comparing ourselves to anyway? Do we really all want the same hair, skin, and shape? That would be like me missing out on the surprising beauty in contrast I found in my little flowerbed and it only took a simple change of heart for me to truly enjoy it.

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P.S. After my grandfather passed away, I framed a picture of he and my grandmother’s wedding. She had four bridesmaids in four different colors. I guess I take after someone too.

The Easter Approach

Everyone has had rumors spread about them. These childish antics usually take place in high school, but unfortunately gossip is a nasty habit that carries well into adulthood. Rumors about me have labeled me weak, immature, inconsiderate, unappreciative, a snob, and much more. I urge you not to believe any of it, not because I haven’t been all of those things and more but because I have been forgiven for sometimes being exactly that. Easter is in six days and regardless of your religious affiliation, or not, one of the oldest stories ever told can have meaning for you.

As the familiar story of Christmas reminds us, Christians believe that God came to Earth and took human form. In one the many mysteries of the faith, He became fully man and fully God. He was also God, Son, and Holy Spirit in perfect unison, the Holy Trinity. Jesus fulfilled prophecy during His lifetime and did so to the end, suffering a horrific death. As God, He knew this was going to happen and as man, He pleaded for the suffering to pass from Him. As man, He suffered more than any human would ever endure. He was beaten, crucified, and bore the sins of the entire human existence for all time. As God He chose forgiveness instead of vengeance choosing to utter the words, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do,” in one of His last breaths. I know, this is sounding like a sermon but we need to be reminded that the Christian message is and needs to remain about forgiveness and sacrificial love as demonstrated in the Easter story. Often times we want to run our own agendas and forget the Easter message the other 364 days of the year. Christ did not say in His last breath, “forgive everyone except (insert name here)”. He made no exemptions and washed it all away. ALL of it. He took those moments when I was weak, narrow-minded, unforgiving, and sometimes ungrateful and forgave me, all I had to do was ask. I am comforted by this story because it can speak to everyone. True love is looking past all those imperfections and seeing others for who they truly are and what they desire to be. Unlike those truths and rumors about me, He knows me well enough to know the desires of my heart and gives me those desires even when I am unworthy because He loves me.

Yes, I believe in God who chose to live a meager existence, even in death by humbling Himself as man and accepting a fate that would result in Him ridiculed, beaten, and hanging helplessly to a cross. He accepted what He was given even when He could see exactly what it meant, even when He had the power to stop it. You don’t have to be a Christian to appreciate a man who lived no more than a meager existence, that accepted a sentence He did not deserve, because He loved humanity so much. We all have been given sentences we don’t deserve. I know I have but I choose to follow His example and accept it all the way to the end, even if it means to death because someone did that for me. I am also going keep trying to freely forgive others, and even myself, when I have been hurt because He offered forgiveness to the very people who chose to nail him to a piece of wood.

So I ask you to stop listening to rumors about me, each other, and Christ and see humanity and faith for what it really is; humbling, forgiving and life changing. It’s about time we stop looking at those bruises and scars we all bare and see us how we were seen over two thousand years ago, a beautiful work of creation deserving of the greatest forgiveness and love. The next time you don’t think someone, including yourself, is worth a kind word, or even forgiveness, there is a God who placed extraordinary value on each person, so much so He died to prove His love.

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