A piece of my heart

 I'm sitting here writing, looking at an empty spot on my couch. There is one less plate at the dinner table. And yesterday, I felt a piece of my heart walk away as I left my daughter at college. 

 This is parenting in its raw moments. You can read blogs and books and talk to parents who have walked through it, because for generations, parents have been leaving their children at college. However, none of those "prepare yourself" moments really ready you for the arrival of the goodbye. 

 But this is parenting. This is what we know will happen one day. We work hard through 18 years to teach, discipline, celebrate, love and encourage a child. And we hope and pray that as they take flight on their own, that they have the tools needed to learn, grow and succeed without being by their side. It is a very strange change in life. 

 I was thinking yesterday as I drove home from leaving her on campus about a variety of things which struck me.

- She didn't have a real graduation due to COVID-19. I think  not having that moment as a parent was sort of like skipping a milestone which made this time of leaving her at college a little more emotional. I feel like I missed an emotional step in the process of letting go and celebrating her successes and ability to move on. That may sound silly, but I am a processor and without the event to sit and process and think about all the little moments through birth to the time of high school graduation, I could mask the idea that this moment was really here. Rest assured, the moment is here. We unpacked our car, loaded her dorm room, shopped at Wal Mart a few times for little items forgotten and said our goodbyes. 

- In spite of the fact that COVID is seemingly halting much of the world activities, much of life is still going forward as "normal", just the new  normal. College didn't stop, growing up didn't slow down and change continues to remain a constant in life. In some ways, it's a kind reminder that we are still moving forward.  

- 2020 is a year of change. No one expected the strange occurrence of a global pandemic. While I knew my daughter would go off to college, I didn't know how that would really feel or what it would really look like. My job went from producing a large national event for 13,000 people to learning how to create a virtual event with a whole lot of new. Many other changes are happening, but this is how we grow.

 As I grow in my own moments through letting go of Elizabeth off to college and continue learning through the changes that the pandemic brings, I know that as a mom, this is her time to grow on her own as well. It doesn't change the fact that I'll always be her mom or that I will always help her or be there to answer her calls. It just is a new season where I can't physically hold her hand or show her how to do a task by her side. I could say to myself all of the "I wish I had...." moments or question if I prepared her enough, but I choose to focus on the fact that this is her time to shine. This is her time to spread her wings and fly. This is her time to take all she has learned and apply it and navigate her way through new decisions so she can grow and figure out her path. 

 To all the moms or parents who have walked through this, remind me that this is normal and it is good. And that I will be ok ;) and so will she. 

 To my younger friends who are moms and haven't reached this point yet, I say: embrace all the little moments along the way. You will feel frustrated at times, you will feel joy. Your heart will break at times, your heart will swell with pride. Set boundaries, make mistakes, but never stop taking in the moments with your child- the good, the bad, the sad, the funny and the changes. Parenting is not easy. And parenting is not a one way written manual. But parenting is beautiful and one day you will look back and be able to see how the years have helped you raise a child, but also how that child has shaped you. Please take it in. Write it down. Take pictures. And embrace the little moments. 

 Life is full of change. But change can be good. My little girl is off on her own, but she will always be my little girl. She will always be a piece of my heart, no matter where she is. 

Live Life Abundantly

 In the world of country music, I admit to really enjoying the music of Tim McGraw. He has a few songs especially that I like, and many that would fall into the popular category which, even if you do not listen to country music, you would probably have heard. 

 The lyrics of his popular song Live Like You Were Dying are ones which resonate strongly with me today. So they come to mind and cause me to pause.

 He was singing of a man who had learned bad news of medical health, and he asked the guy -"what did you do when you got the news"... the lyrics are as such:

 I went skydiving, I went Rocky Mountain Climbing, I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fumanchu. And I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter and I gave forgiveness I'd been denying... Someday I hope you get the chance to live like you were dying. 

....I was the finally the husband that most of the time I wasn't, And I became a friend a friend would like to have....

 I am pondering this today because this afternoon I sat in the funeral of a friend from some years ago. He was 43 years old and one day he was fishing with his 2 teenage boys in Wyoming and the next day on a hike, he lost his life. 

 I have lost people close to me which shifted my world dramatically, but Josh's death had an impact on me in a new way that is hard to explain, and the only way I sometimes know how to work that out is to write it out. 

On one hand, I don't want to make Josh's death (or life) turn into a story about me. However, I think that any time we walk through moments such as these, it is necessary and important to evaluate life. I thought about my kids as I listened to his 14 year old daughter speak about how she'd give anything to tap her dad on the shoulder again and say "Dad... dad... " 

 I thought about all the variety of people in my life who I have every day encounters with and I wonder if my faith, my friendliness and/or my words would matter or make a difference to those people. 

 I thought about my friends in Colombia and Footprints with Hope and how I want to make impacts in that way, such as what was spoken about the things Josh did to impact certain ministries as well. 

 I thought about living life to the fullest. Every year I set out by choosing a word to define the year and how I want to live. The word isn't magical nor is it what I think about every day, but I have seen the effects of choosing such a word each year. Coincidentally (?) my word for this year is Live Abundantly. 

 Now, COVID-19 has made that more of a challenge than January 1 ever knew it would be. But when I think about life and sat in the presence of the story of a 43 year old, healthy man, I realize and think about how living abundantly is so very important.

 Love deeper. 

    Laugh more.

        Be vulnerable.

            Hug my kids.

    Be thankful.

        Take risks.

            Step out of my comfort zone.

Slow down (sometimes)

    Don't stop learning/growing.

        Take in the moment every single day.

            Cherish those around me, even if there are moments they drive me nuts, I can learn from those times, too. 

  When Tim McGraw says in his song "someday I hope you get the chance to live like you were dying." That chance is today, because we never know when we won't have a tomorrow. So I ask myself, what am I doing to live like I were dying, to love more, to laugh harder, to be present, to listen better, to live my faith deeper, to be a better version of me every day? 

 Death is hard. It is sad. I walked through a lot of these questions when mom died in 2011, and as I had a friend who lost a spouse this year, walked through them again to an extent. And today, celebrating the life of Josh, I think about them in a new way since he was only 43. If you're reading this, chances are you know me, because I am not a world-famous blogger with hundreds of followers. This is more of an open book to my ever-wandering mind through life experiences. You have likely played a part in my journey in some way, shape or form. Thank you for that. I am grateful for you. 

 To all my readers, I encourage you (as I preach to myself in this moment) to live like you were dying. I want to shine my light, be brighter and bolder. I want to love fiercely and wildly and unconditionally. I hope to leave an impact not so people will remember me, but so the world can be a better place and know more of God's love. I hope for my kids to have beautiful memories and silly stories to tell. I hope that I would be able to say I lived life abundantly. I am 38 years old as of recently, with a new year ahead of me. I don't want to look back and dwell in that, but I look forward instead, and embrace the idea that we get one life, one chance, one opportunity.  What will I do with mine? 

One day at a time. As if it were my last day. Because we truly never know when that will be. 

Mother's Day

Mother's Day.

 It is both painful and beautiful.

  It is a time to make memories as well as remember.

   It brings me a lot of tears and also laughter.

    It is a time I reflect on my mom and miss her fiercely but also celebrate being a mom myself.

I must write about my mom, but also about being a mom, because I am in a new season of motherhood recently. So, mother's day is a time to reflect.

 I have written so many words about my mom, but there always seem to be new memories which surface or new thoughts of her as I cross new moments of mothering myself. I often wonder "Is this  how my mom felt during the days of raising teenagers?" I wonder if my mom cried in frustration or out of sadness in the quiet moments, but only shined her smile with us. And then I feel sad that I can't call her and ask her. I wish I could sit across the table from her, play one more round of Dutch Blitz with her and laugh over coffee. I wish I could ask her advice or at the very least, cry to her through these days of navigating new phases of mothering. While I am certain she didn't have an experience such as COVID-19, I am certain that I was a very emotional teenager (who, me?? ....)  and thus, would love to hear her wise words and know that she would pray for me as a mom through this time as well as for my emotional graduating Senior daughter. But wishing for all those things does not change the circumstance and every time the emotions surface, I find new ways to navigate them. I look for ways to celebrate her and keep her memory going or I find new photos and smile at the memory captured by such a photo.

 As mom, I am over emotional lately. (Who, me?? ) Elizabeth is graduating. I cry with her as she grieves over a lost prom, missing last days of walking the halls, and possibly no graduation ceremony. Yesterday, we drove through the high school parking lot to pick up her cap and gown - a no-contact way for the school to deliver the goods. Yet as we drove through the parking lot to pick up these items, faithful teachers, complete with masks, rang bells and cheered for the Seniors picking up their items. So much emotion coursing trough my veins. Moments of motherhood flashing before my eyes as I held back the tears.
 Mothering is hard. It is so very worth it, but it is hard. Each phase is so different, each phase has made me a better person. Each phase I have had total moments of failure,  but complete moments of joy, too.
  As I feel the sadness of what she is experiencing right now, I also watch with joy as she searches for ways to bless others during this time. This girl, always looking out for the less fortunate. I smile as I watch her mount the horses and canter across the ring. I smile as she talks animatedly about her dreams of upcoming college years and dorm rooms. I embrace the moment, because every moment lasts but a breath.

 When I lost mom, I learned that. I recall sitting at mom's bedside, reading while she slept. And I paused thinking, "This could be my last day with mom." But in that moment I also learned maybe it would be, but that means I need to enjoy this moment. And so in that moment, I did what mom loved doing- I sang to her. And in that, while she could not talk, somehow she was still teaching me. In mom's absence, I find little notes she had written through the years or old photos once forgotten and I recall her laughter, her joy and her ever positive attitude.. and I hear her voice and feel her with me. She isn't here, but she kind of is honestly. Her lessons live on in me.

 My son is fun and teaches me and challenges me in ways different from Elizabeth. He's quiet, but strong. He doesn't talk a lot, but when he does, I close my books and put away my phone because I know he wants to really share. He has a string of sarcasm but a love for stupid jokes, like me. With him, I often laugh over nothing at all, which leaves the two of us at times breathless. We usually don't even know what started it. He's my coffee buddy, offering to make me a cup and sitting with me to drink one himself. He challenges me with his independence, but I so look forward to what he will one day do. And I am so glad we have 2 more years left, because letting go as they move on to the next phase is not easy. It is kind of heartbreaking.

 So, this mother's day, I think about my mom and I am sad she is missing these milestone moments with me. But I am thankful for the lessons she taught me so I can work to teach my daughter "adult" lessons as she transitions.
  I am embracing a new season as a mom.
   Mother's Day is to celebrate my mom and all she taught me to be... and to celebrate the joy my own children bring me.

 Motherhood is...
painful and it is beautiful.
   It is hard and it is joyful.
     It is full of laughter and tears.

 Happy Mother's Day, Mom! No longer here, but forever in my heart.
     And I am so blessed to have my own two beautiful kids. I will take my time to remember my mom... but then I will laugh and enjoy the ever fleeting moments I have with my kids today.

The Little Things

It has been a bit since I've posted a blog about "the little things" in life that make me smile.

 It is important, especially in times like these, to focus on those moments because the "big things" certainly can become overwhelming and consuming. Thus, as I sit in my chair on this very rainy Friday in Ohio, I reflect on my week and some of the little things that have made me smile...

~ Ending the semester with a  4.0 in what began as my most challenging semester (and ended the same) ever. Proof that the harder it can be, the more it can push  me to grow.

~ Spending a day doing beauty masks and making pancakes and painting with my daughter

~ Playing games with the kids and laughing over nothing.

~ Discovering an old photo of me and mom I love, thanks to my sister for digging through her library of photos to find the original.

~ Finding more grey hairs on my head :) And embracing it!

~ Good friends willing to collaborate with all my dreamy ideas for the foundation Footprints with Hope

~ TRX Straps! Thanks to a kind soul from a local gym who is lending them to me, I can get back to that workout after (far too much) time off from strength training.

~ Journals and gel pens. I love penning my thoughts in the old fashioned way. I want to remember these days of strange times and forced changes even if they are hard because they are pushing me to grow and I don't want to forget.

~ Coffee. Can I say coffee every time? I miss my coffee dates with friends so much. But I love holding the cup of joy in the morning hours or over a Zoom call or after dinner to wind down.

 It's the little moments which so easily can slip through the cracks of the days and the frustrations and I don't want to blink and miss them and wish I'd better embraced those things each day. Life is a journey, especially right now. The growth is hard but will be beautiful in time. I am thankful for the little things, one day at a time.

April Reflections

Sunday, April 26

 Dear "Diary": or in this case, "Dear World"
     It feels like day 4,356 of the COVID 19 Virus and I've yet to really write about it. In these 6 weeks of quarantine, I have been writing, but the thoughts have gone so deep at times, it's difficult to put the words out there for others and often times difficult to understand them myself.

    So, today I sit here to share. Likely a lengthy post, if you make it through it. But one hopefully worth the read. For me, a way to process, and always a time to understand deeper what I am learning.

    At the beginning of March I was in Colombia with the members of the board of Footprints with Hope. It was an incredible trip, and during that trip, we were discussing Corona Virus and our thoughts about it. However, little did we know the way it would change our lives upon our return. I still work to process my thoughts from that trip because as soon as we came home, life turned upside down. The truth is, much of what I learn in Colombia, now in some ways, people here are finally seeing and experiencing in our own back yard, even if in a different kind of way. When I am there, we don't live by our clocks so much. We see poverty. We experience a way which causes us to reflect on life so differently. Now, quarantined and the differences between social classes being so exposed here, we are also made to look at life differently.

  Looking at life differently comes with challenges, but also perhaps may be a healthy thing for all of us to do. So, what can I share about my time in quarantine these months... what am I learning, seeing, feeling and how am I growing?

  Well, both of my classes at the University switched from in person to online. This virus has forced everyone to change the way of doing daily activities and we've learned how possible we can make that be when necessary. It can be a good thing in some ways and open new doors of opportunity in the world of online learning. That came with challenges - especially being in a cooking class! However, we have navigated that. In some ways, it has felt like the world's longest semester, though. Today it completes and I am so happy for that. Interestingly enough, one class was a Human Rights class and I learned things that could make its own blog. Hardest class ever, but one of my most worthwhile. And being in quarantine, with so much time to think, it has been profoundly deeper of an impact, I believe. The virus has highlighted so desperately the needs of this world in new ways. Experiencing a pandemic that isn't just touching our community or maybe a community of a friend but the ENTIRE world! It is a time to connect globally in ways our world has not done for many years. I have always had a passion for other cultures and the world as a whole, and I feel this situation is shedding light and producing a new understanding. There can be beauty found in this. Simultaneously my heart is breaking for those I want to help so badly but don't know how.

  My daughter is missing out on the end of her Senior Year. She  has struggled with this in certain aspects, but handles it like a champ in others. We have no idea when her graduation will be, with 3 back up dates they have created. We can't really plan her graduation party very well. She's missing prom and senior walk and making those memories with her friends in the halls and classrooms in their last year together. For a 17 year old, it is a milestone. It certainly has become one she will never forget. For a 17 year old, the future is uncertain anyway, and right now even more so. As a mom, we've waited years for this time for her, so it is a little sad for me, too. However, do you want to know the beauty of it? At the beginning of her senior year, I was longing for more time with her. Just a few more shared moments in lieu of looking at her leaving. And the pandemic has given me that. We've done beauty masks and puzzles and watched shows and talked about the future and politics and dreams and hurts. These are days which will never be given back. I cherish them with her.

  Work has had its challenges. So many challenges. I have been stretched in new ways, but also it has given me time to think about the work environment and goals and dreams I want to achieve there. We also have learned  how to work remotely, which is a positive. Not being together consistently has pushed me to learn to communicate in a different way, at times harder, but healthy. We face the possibility of our event not even taking place- the thing we work day to day for year in and out. That comes with heartache too, thinking over that. Yet I think it also brings perspective. What we do on a daily basis (to make a living) does make an impact and a difference, but it puts into perspective priorities too.

 Let's get real here... I wrestle with anxiety and depression and if I am being super honest with you, during these weeks it has been awful. I have had to force myself out of bed at times. I have made myself reach out to people in moments I am feeling the worst struggles. I'm trapped with my thoughts, which can spiral me in a dark direction sometimes. I run outdoors more than ever right now, which helps me more than words can explain, but doesn't take the struggle away. I've learned how to fight it, but I face it more than ever during this time. I am not afraid of the virus. I am not scared of the illness. I am heartbroken for the lost and the poor. I also have zero control over the situation. Faced with thoughts and emotions I can often bury in the midst of work or helping others (without realizing I am doing that) during these weeks I've had no choice but to process those often suppressed emotions. I want to understand them, but they are painful to process. Facing them is hard, to say the least. I am a people person, I get my energy from others and helping others and so, while there are ways to do that through this, the reality of facing the darker emotions are highlighted. I'm just being real.

 However, through these days, I have determined that I want to grow and learn and use this time which will never be given back. I made a list of home projects, but that hasn't happened. But is that really the important task right now? For me, probably not.
  There is progress being made on administrative things for Footprints with Hope foundation, and that is a positive. We have to pass through a quiet season right now, so this is a good time to accomplish behind the scenes tasks.
       I have been doing more writing, even if just for myself.
  I have been running more again, which is purely for me. Not for a race nor for being with others, but to fight my mental struggles and to purely enjoy who I am. My running times are my peaceful moments, my time to process and to be "free". I have really enjoyed being able to do more distance again.
         I have been savoring moments with the kids through this time. That matters more to me than any house project ever could.
   I've been praying a lot. Having time with my creator. He says "Be Still and Know that I am God."  He asks us to be still. I don't do it well. In this time, it is forcing me into a stillness of sorts that I've never done. And it's driving me deeper in love with Him. Yes, I struggle with the emotional realities of depression and anxiety. But do you know who is in the depths of that with me? Jesus. And thus, I grow closer to Him even when it is a time of upheaval. I love that. He really has pushed me to stand still.
      Connecting virtually. We live in a technology driven world that can serve as a distraction. However, during these times, I have found a lot of joy through it. Church is online, which i desperately miss in person, but I am thankful for it nonetheless. I also can join in with my Colombian friends every Sunday, which I am loving. They are virtually meeting every Sunday, a newer thing for them to do, and I love it. All the pastors get together over the 30 some churches and I love joining them in their services.
     Also, not totally on purpose, but I have reconnected with childhood friends. I had such a fun childhood, full of good memories and laughter. It has been fun to remember things and reconnect.

 There is always good to be found in the challenges. My ever wise daughter, an essential worker right now in the grocery store, along with my son, who also works there, shared a statement with me yesterday. She said " Mom, this customer was telling me how awful this virus has been for her and how she has it so bad. But mom, we all have our own struggles we are facing through this time. Everyone has to face something through this that is hard. I feel for her, but we all are struggling."
     She is right. I have a bucket of blessings in the midst of this, with a job and health and provisions. I face my own struggles. But so does every person going through this. This is a time for us to pause and learn.
   What can I do differently when this time ends? How will life change because of these weeks of quarantine and stillness? How can I take these lessons that feel overwhelming at times and produce a better version of me? And with that better version of me, how can I impact those around me so that life, looking differently when this passes, can be a good kind of different?

 I could go on about this. These are thoughts partially produced through these events for me. Deep. Often very deep, which makes it hard to put it to "paper" to sort them out.  april has been a very long month. But I know that darker times, hard circumstances, always produce growth. You cannot see the seed in the soil as it grows and blooms, but once the crop breaks ground, you watch it become a plant and a product which makes a difference. That is where we are... seeds in the ground, and soon we will see the beauty of the product if we are patient and willing.

   John 10:10 "The thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of."
      I close with a song that has come across my path through this time so that I don't forget this is part of what I am learning and want to embrace...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKpEytickx4
         

Chasing my shadow

The wind whips around my skin. The sun is kissing the sky in a beautiful way. The deer are enjoying running through the woods. My shadow stretches across the ground in front of me. And I breathe in deeply the enjoyment of being outdoors running.

 In the midst of these times, I have to find the positives. I am an extrovert and I love being around people, so this time of being at home with family can have benefits in savoring the hours with the kids nearly grown, but also can provide challenges in my anxiety with lack of conversations over cups of coffee and sweet embraces. Running is a time of peace for me in the midst of these strange, ever-changing days.

 Over the last 10 years, I have really enjoyed running. Each season of those 10 years has held different reasons for the running being significant. I have come to learn much about myself through the process, developed a sense of confidence I didn't know existed within me; found a career and worked my way up the ladder through that; fought anxiety and depression with the weapon of mind over matter and getting out to run; made some great friends; crossed a few finish lines; and most of all, have become a better version of me.

 The challenge for me over the last year is that between schooling, work, family and mission work, while I have still exercised, it's been more of a robotic act than one of pure enjoyment. These days are allowing me to find that enjoyment again.

 I've never been a fast runner. Running is work for me. But the sense I feel when I am out there doing it is is one that cannot come from a spin class nor a weight training session. However, in regards to my running, I am going to be honest here. Over the last year, I've let several comments affect my desire to get out and run, let alone blog about it as much. But, I'm over that, so I'm going to share.

 I've heard things (when discussing my run time) "Oh, I pace the slow people!"  or comments like "I can't wait to have another runner around"  or "That's it? You only did 2 miles?" or "What was your time" to which I would be embarrassed to answer.
  I'm paraphrasing, but I've also been told that perception is reality and those words and more said have affected my mindset of pushing through the challenges to do something I love simply for the sake of doing it. Yes, I have had extra activities affecting my ability to get out, but words play a huge role in my mindset and I let those take over for a time.

 However, in these days, I am returning to my roots. I am starting over again, essentially. I haven't lost my knowledge in how to run or what to do to improve. I may have lost my motivation for a time, though, in discouragement or in the business of daily life. Today I write to share for anyone out there doubting their ability : DON'T. I'm using this time of the world slowing down to rediscover that part of me. In those moments I think clearer. I feel the presence of the Creator. I find my confidence again. I remember why I began to fall in love with this sport in the first place. So, today I write to encourage those of you who may feel  you "can't" or that you are not a runner. It isn't about your speed. It's about your heart. So....

 Let the breeze tickle your skin, don't care about the speed.
    Watch the sun kiss the sky and slow down to take a picture of it.
Chase your shadow with the flag whipping in the wind behind you.
  Pause to stare back at the deer looking at you.
     Push through the "I don't like hills" and feel the burn in your legs bring you to life.
 Add an extra mile, even if it is at a walk pace.
    And most of all, as you run, let the words roll off your back into the wind and just allow yourself to be free and to be you.

 That is what running does for me. I am enjoying the daylight hours of running, certain that contributes to the joy of it for me. (As opposed to the 530 am dark and chilly wintery days). As much of an extrovert as I am, this space of running by myself is a savored moment I have severely missed . In times when it can be hard to find the positives, in times that my anxiety honestly has a tendency to be heightened, these are the moments that bring me into who I am, the moments that I am thankful for in the midst of these strange days of unknown- the quiet moments in dawn hours of running. And so, I will savor this. And whenever normal becomes back to normal, I hope to hang onto these lessons I am learning, one day at a time. Because when I run, it isn't just about being out running more miles again, it is about learning about my Creator, it is about learning my own self and pushing through the mind blocks that can come with the daily grind of life. And thus, I will chase my shadow in the early morning hours.... one day at  time...

 

9 Years Ago

Today the world is changing rapidly. The virus is captivating attention, causing fear and creating change on even an hourly basis. This is an event and a time that we will all remember the rest of our lives. 

  However, while there is seriousness to this topic, I find myself really wanting to talk about something besides the virus. Continuing life as normal as possible, whatever normal is. Normal changes rapidly, honestly.  Colombia is typically my go-to topic of choice as I continue growing and learning. Writing helps me process what I'm learning and share those lessons with others. However, today I want to write about my mom. 

 I have written countless stories about my mom and it often seems there may not be one left to share. Yet somehow, it feels there will never be ones I run out of, if that makes any sense. Today is a day that changed my world 9 years ago. Today, March 20, is the day that my mom went home to heaven. I have written many times about what that day was like. Today it is easy to recall the day as if I were living it out again. The details of those moments are ones forever engrained as part of my story. 

 

Today I watched a video play back of what we put together for mom's funeral. That's the story I want to talk about today. Yes, I get sad many times missing my mom. The ache of not having her when I am frustrated about work to call and share is an ache that physically hurts at times in my chest.  The tears fall when I feel sad and cannot call her. The joy I have when I get to do tasks I love, such as work on the foundation or travel to Colombia or plan a marathon - that joy that I cannot sit over coffee with my mom and tell her all about it does create heartache at times. And I allow for those moments because that is part of grief. I visited the cemetery today and let myself cry there. 

  

 But this moment, this is a moment to remember her with joy, too. The video brought back a lot of memories I hadn't thought about in a long time with her. First of all, my mom used to sing a song to me as a child each night before bed. Then she sang it to the grandkids as they were babies and growing up. She sang the song "I have decided to follow Jesus".  Mom lived out that decision in her every day life, reading her Bible, praying for others, inviting people over, sacrificing financially all the time when there was little to sacrifice. On the video, the grandkids, who mostly were fairly young, sang the song to begin the video of mom. 

 The video was a compilation of photos of mom's life. She grew up in Minnesota, where winter is brutal. But mom enjoyed winters. (She did not pass that on to me!) She was Sweedish, after all. There were photos of her ice fishing. There were also photos of her fishing in the summer time. One photo was from a time she took my dad up to the lake for a visit and he had fish as well. I can't ever really remember a time of my dad eating fish, let alone fishing. But there he was in the photo, grinning like a boy in love. That was their relationship... love and laughter. And doing things the other enjoyed. 

 There was a photo of mom and dad playing around like a cowboy saying "stick 'em up" (maybe today that is a rarity, but there was a time that was a game). Dad had a handkerchief around his face, mom, turning her head in laughter. Photos from their wedding, photos from our family growing up, all 4 of us kids. We didn't have many vacations, but there was a photo of us in Texas, where mom's parents lived for a time. I remember that vacation, where we traveled the 6 of us in the Chevy Impala hours and hours to arrive at Texas. I was very young, but I even recall on that trip crossing the border (on foot) into Mexico and visiting a little touristy area. 

  In the video was a photo of mom holding a trash can with a big bow on it. My mom was so simple and the smallest things made her smile. That was what she wanted for Christmas- a trash can. So that year we sent her on a treasure hunt for that can and once she finally got there, she seriously grinned as silly as the photo shows. 

  

 She loved children and children loved her. She taught Sunday School at church for nearly 40 years. She was an education major at Cedarville (College) University but chose to stay at home once she had children. The video has many photos of her holding my kids, my sister's kids and even other babies. You can see her attentively playing games with them. And always, always she had a smile. She liked to be silly, wearing tea party hats or making funny faces or telling stories that made everyone laugh. 

 Watching the video again reminded me of many stories of her life. She was the youngest of 7, with two sets of twins in that family. She was teased and the stories go on about the tricks they liked to play on her. However, they loved her fiercely and I really enjoy seeing the photos of her with her 6 siblings and how they even hovered a bit over her. 

 You see, while I feel I have shared many stories, the memories will always surface with more. Writing about them makes me smile about her instead of cry. Sharing about her life keeps her legacy alive. She is gone and I miss her fiercely. But her words and her memories burn inside me, keeping the smile that she had every day as a part of me as well. 

 People will often comment on my smile, when they see it genuinely, that it is a wonderful feature of mine. I got that from mom. Oh, my dad loves to laugh just as much... but the smile I have I contribute to my mom. 

 I miss her today, but I miss her every day. I hope that I never forget these stories and that we keep telling them and one day my kids tell them. I can hear her laugh when I see these photos. 

 9 years ago today I said goodbye to my mom. But she will forever be a part of my story that I will keep telling. 

Cartagena- Rich in Culture, Full of Love

The world is turning a little upside down right now and all of us likely feel a little out of sorts. However, I don't want to focus on the reasons for that in this blog. I write today to return to the stories of how my life got turned upside down when I became a part of Colombia... when I got wrecked as I wrote about in my last blog.

 This was my 7th trip there. Some have asked me if it becomes old or if I grow numb to what I see. My answer is no... and I hope that I never do. Each time I travel to Colombia, when I return to my home away from home, when I am wrapped in loving arms from my family in another country, my heart and eyes get opened in some new way. I get stretched, I learn, I cry, I laugh,  I am touched, and I am changed... every time.

 I can't figure out yet whether to capture in words in this blog my experiences day by day or just list out some of the more interesting ones little by little. This trip was full of "first" experiences for me, even though it was my 7th time there... This trip was a little different for me in that I took with me 3 others, James, Isaac, and Andy. James and Andy are part of then board of Footprints with Hope, the foundation we've established to begin doing deeper work in the villages/cities of Colombia. (our fourth board member could not go with us.) Isaac is the son of Andy. It was my first time doing that. Isaac and Andy have a way of story telling that can be deep in moments which touch the heart but can also be completely hilarious. We laughed a lot on this trip, thanks to their humor.

 I'll share the trip day by day and preface my "first" experiences with those words. Seriously, a blog does not do justice to these experiences.

 There is a first time for everything....
   1. When we finally got through the long line of customs, and to the counters, it was taking James forever to move through customs. James has been there as many times as I have, but each time he has only visited the same village. This was going to be his first of visiting other locations. But from the get-go, we called him the "problem child" on the trip. (He wasn't really, but every trip has one, so we gave that to him).  We all passed through customs quickly, but I noticed that James was taking a very long time at his counter.
 James does not speak Spanish, so I asked my lady who passed me through if I could go help him, as he'd been there some time. She said yes and when I moved over to his counter, the man checking him in to the country would not let him pass through because he didn't have a reservation number for the hotel where we were staying. Well, this was a first. They usually only ask for the name of the hotel. Props to the man for doing his job diligently, but... I could not understand this when the others of us passed through without that. well, in the end, the man called the hotel and confirmed that James was with me  and we were allowed through. Not a bad experience, just a little weird. We moved on for our luggage.

 2. First time for me to arrive to the carousel for luggage for it not to be there. Andy and Isaac had been waiting on us to come through, so they informed us. I spoke with the man at the carousel and was informed we had to go to the Delta office. Well, another first for me. Lesson here: always have good clothes in the carry on bag. Now, I've traveled enough to know this. I did have one outfit (simple running clothes and flip flops, of course) in my carry on. But our next day activity was going to be one in which I wanted to be dressed up. So... lesson learned. In all fairness, on this trip, we were taking a lot of books, heavy, and so in order to balance out the weight of the 2 suitcases, I stuck a fair amount of books in my carry on because clothes are lighter for the checked bags. Well.... lesson learned. But hey, it made for a fun excuse to get a little something new to wear ;)  This was the first for my luggage to not quite make it.
  In case you're wondering, the luggage didn't make it because our connecting flight was pretty tight and thus, our luggage did not make it not that flight. Kindly Delta delivered our suitcases to our hotel when they arrived the next day.

3. Another first for me- I was the full time translator on this trip. I have traveled there by myself without a translator, but on this trip, I was the translator for everyone with me, navigating all the conversations. This is both exciting and well, I also felt nervous, insufficient to do so. There is a great way to learn- jump in and do it!

                                                            Day 1. Sunday. Cartagena
 Cartagena is full of culture. There are bright colors, live music, awesome food and so much rich history. Although I've stayed there several times, on this trip, I saw more of the city than before and we got to experience many restaurants and explore a bit more the ideas and the history of the city. Andy and I will lead a team there in October with Footprints with Hope through the Restoration Park Church and we are quite excited. We had fun exploring the city in new ways, navigating ideas for what or where we can go with the team in October.
      After a fun evening Saturday night exploring Old City, we left Sunday morning from the hotel to attend Flor de Campo, the church in Cartagena. We were welcomed with open arms. I felt like I was in my own church, welcomed with hugs and kisses and kind words. These friends have become family and it was wonderful to be back. Being the translator was a new experience for me. I was up front with Bishop, translating the sermon and then later translating all of the conversations and the very cool things the church is doing there in Cartagena.
  When the service ended, they broke into small classroom settings. This is the ministry in the little area of Flor de Campo with the kids, Voces Invisibles, Voces de Todos, some of whom are migrants from Venezuela. They are taught photography, and on this day they were taking actual printed snapshots of their small city blocks (as we would think of ) and placing them on a paper, mapping and drawing them out. They were learning how to use photography to understand their own space of living.
 They were learning guitar, drums, singing, literature, reading and through all of these avenues they are taught their rights, they are taught their roots and their history and they are taught how to live life abundantly and make better choices. To see all of this was beautiful, to see the joy these kids have, and an avenue to grow in a healthy environment off the streets.

 Next we ate lunch together in the pastoral parsonage. While we finished lunch and enjoyed tinto (coffee) we listen to Bishop and the girls who were preparing a cultural dance for us banter back and forth about whose dance was best- Salsa, from Cali, Bishop's home town, or the other dances of the other cities like Cumbia, and  Maplé. Listening to them was quite comical and that banter continued on the whole week every time the topic arose.
  Which led us to the next moment of the gals presenting dances for us. They gave a little intro to each one, what the background and the history to the dance was, why it was original to its location and how they used it as an expression of their culture, their history and their lives. They prepared 3 different ones for us. We really enjoyed this.

 Lastly, after many photos and much laughter, we were able to enjoy one more "show". There is a small band called Ninguneados, who you can see here who performed for us for a bit. They shared their story, how they use their music to be the voice for those who do not have a voice. Their name Ninguneados is based on this poem. Their music is beautiful and powerful.

 After that, we visited the home briefly of one of those band members and then made our way back to the hotel. From the hotel we went back out into the city and enjoyed another meal in another new location, exploring the possibilities and also reminiscing about the day and the ideas our foundation was beginning to form through the little bit of exposure.

 By the way, Cartagena is the location of launching our first pilot program with the women. We are half way to our funding for that. If you're interested in donating towards it or want to know more, please go here to donate.  We are looking for partners in our mission to bring hope to Colombia, one step at a time!  You also can find more information on our facebook page, with more videos at Footprints with Hope facebook

 PS. Please forgive the messiness of these photos... there is a work in progress in bettering the blog site. Enjoy the photos!

 
 

Wrecked

Have you ever been wrecked by an experience?
 Seen something that changed your world view? Met a person who challenged your thought process? Or perhaps had an experience that even was difficult to pass through but changed you for the better?

 Wrecked.

 It is a word drawn from a book I recently read. The book in fact is called Wrecked.  By Jeff Goins. And it is about "when a broken world slams into your comfortable life."

  People often wonder or ask me why I go to Colombia so often?

 It is because I was wrecked by that experience. And being wrecked changed my world forever.

  The first time I went to Colombia in 2016, it changed my perspective forever. I'd always had the desire to do work in a Latin American country. But the experience I had there wasn't just about the one time event. I was told in preparation for that time we would have there, that I would feel and see differently upon my arrival home. The challenge would be when I come home how to take that feeling and not let it fade, but to let being "wrecked" make a change for the future.

 I didn't always understand that. I would come home each time I visited and feel such a deep need to make a difference. To be different myself.  I wanted to implement here what I learned there. However, in a different culture, like our go-go-go and plan-plan-plan culture, putting those lessons to practice becomes extremely challenging. I never do it super well. Yes, I get wrecked every time I go. In a different kind of way each time. But when I want to do it here at home in the states, it is very hard.

 But through these few years of traveling there, expanding into different villages, Footprints with Hope, the non-profit foundation I founded has come to life. That is what being wrecked has done to me. It has brought the desire to life, to work towards a change because I was changed. The foundation has become an effect of being wrecked. Through the foundation, we hope to help change the lives of the women living in Colombia who have experienced violent situations and are looking and longing for ways to crawl out of those, but haven't had a hand to help them do so. And through that, more people are going to get to experience being "wrecked". Both the women in Colombia and those who will have the opportunity to begin traveling with our group. And I hope when they do, they will want to come home and make a change. Not a temporary one, but one that will carry out the work of Jesus in new ways, ways unique to each of them.

 We all have unique gifts. Thus, when being wrecked, how that will play out will look different.

 So, ask me why I keep going back to Colombia...

 It is a calling, yes. A desire to help spread the love of Jesus through acts of service and a simple "show up and be there", which makes others know they matter. But I go back, and I began the foundation, because when I was wrecked, I knew I never wanted to go backwards. I wanted to make a change. Not for my sake, but for the reason of spreading the love of Jesus with the gifts He has given me.

 Tomorrow I leave once again to go to the beautiful country. We are working as the foundation to launch our first project, which will be an 8 month program for women. We will be teaching them a trade, a job skill. They will get time with a psychologist, who will help them work through their past, their hurts, their insecurities. They will learn financial management. And we will put together their stories in a book. They will have dance therapy. To do this program, the cost is roughly $5,700. We have begun the process of raising that money.
 Tomorrow I take 2 of the 3 board members with me. We will visit locations, talk about the program, meet those who will implement it in our absence. We will visit a village which I have not yet seen, which does intense work with the Venezuelan migrants. I go back because those people matter. I go back because I was wrecked and don't want to ever lose what I have learned through that. I go back because those women are valuable. And I am excited to share my experiences with others to see how when they get wrecked how God will take that and use it for His good.

   I can't wait to share about the experiences post trip.... and how I get wrecked this time around.

world cancer day

Cancer...
 It is a word that breaks the heart. Cancer is a word no one wants to hear and few know how to handle upon first hearing it. Cancer is a disease that steals life and changes the world, and not really in a positive way. Cancer is a very difficult sickness to face, whether the one going through it or the ones walking along side those going through it.

 Today is World Cancer Day.

  When I heard this was a day and that today was it, of course my thoughts were instantaneously drawn to my mom. I wanted to do a clever picture or post on facebook or a moment to remember my mom, but none of that seemed appropriate. So I turned inward, as I often do. and decided to put my thoughts, best as I could, to the black and white screen, pushing out the emotions that the word "cancer" captures in my soul.

 Unfortunately, I have had much exposure to cancer. My grandfather walked a cancer journey and he was the first person I was very close to who passed away when I was 18. I was touched by numerous people through the years of my growing up who went through cancer or lost their battle to it. I also saw victorious stories. But cancer really changed my life's perspective when my mom was diagnosed with it.

 If you'll allow me, I'm going to take you through that journey a little bit from my perspective and share what cancer has taught me through the years.

 December, 2006. At that time, my family and I lived in Florida. Joseph was 2. Elizabeth was 4. And we had traveled to Ohio for Christmas to be with my parents. We enjoyed our holiday as usual and laughed and the kids had their first experience in the snow.  Mom kept working to get me, my sister and her together at one time, just the 3 of us, which was not usually something she pushed, as working the schedules was always tricky. But we finally made it work. I drove mom and myself to meet my sister. And that morning, in the corner of Tim Hortons cafe on Dayton Yellow Springs Rd, my world changed forever.
 You know those moments you can recall an exact space, an exact hour and every detail? That Tim Hortons will forever be that for me. That was where my mom told us she had cancer.

 I was shocked. I could not respond, as my mom had always been so healthy. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. And I certainly had no idea how I was going to return to Florida, knowing mom was in a battle for life.

 I could walk you through hours of this story as it still plays through my mind like a movie. Mom fought back. She had surgery; I flew in to help care for her. She had complications, but she never quit. She went into remission. Fast forward to 2007, God had this crazy notion to walk my family through a very trying time of losing jobs and such and moving to the only place we knew to go: home to Ohio. That transition was one of the pivoting points in our lives, and not really always with good memories. But nonetheless, God's plans are always greater than ours.

 2009: Mom's cancer returned, in a very strange way- in the lung. Because of the nature of it showing up in that location, the doctor was convinced it was new cancer and not a metastasized version. They removed one of mom's lungs only to discover it was actually Stage IV cancer which had metastasized from the original cancer just years before. It was another moment I will forever recall, in Miami Valley Hospital as the doctor gave us that news. Again, we were left speechless.  Again, mom chose to fight... and that she did.
 She went through radiation and chemo. At this point, I was understanding more why God had moved my family to Ohio. I wouldn't have wanted to be in any other place. It was a difficult time, to say the least. But mom fought. Mom laughed. Mom loved. And mom never gave up. She was constantly the rock for us, when we should have been that for her. I remember one time she had a very lengthy chemo treatment and I was at her side and I believe my sister was there too. We are card players, so we did what we knew to do: we played cards while the chemo did its thing. And that moment I will never forget how some silly realization about the deck in the middle of the game put the three of us into hysterics. I mean, we must have seemed completely crazy to the other patients when the nurse had to come tell us to keep it down! That was my mom, though... always laughing. Always finding the best in every moment.

  I became a Relay for Life advocate. Mom was by my side. Mom  came out to it, which remains one of my favorite photos of her with my kids, under the sign of our relay team, her proudly being a "survivor" still in the battle of it, but supporting me in the endeavor of what I was doing.

 I could share story after story here, which is how this blog began. Life changed in November of 2010 when mom woke up and could not talk. She could not write. She could clearly understand us, though. That day we learned she had 3 tumors pressing on the brain. The cancer was moving rapidly.
 And yet, without being able to speak, when asked, mom nodded her head... she wanted to keep fighting. More radiation. More chemo.

 The journey continued and mom fought her hardest. She never regained speech fully, but I will forever hold those months as precious that we had, just sitting next to each other, and every so often she would pat my hand, reassuring me. Wrapped in her green sweater... smiling without words. She didn't need words to continue teaching me life lessons through those moments.

 I will recall sitting next to her bedside one day in the closer months to her passing and thinking "today could be her last day..."  but also clearly learning I was worrying about that so much that I was likely not enjoying the moments I still had with her. Mom  was teaching me without saying any words. In her bed, with hospice on call.... she was teaching me about enjoying life while I can. Weird, right?

  We were all with her the night she passed away, minus my younger brother, who hadn't made it in quite yet. March 20, 2011 is another moment that cancer engrained into my life forever- the moment I said goodbye to mom here on this earth.

 Cancer did ultimately take the life of my mom. But in the process, my mom taught me beautiful lessons. In essence, cancer taught me lessons through its disease. I hate cancer, yes. Cancer changed my world. But I loved my mom so much, and she taught me to take hard times and allow those to grow me, and change me for the better.
 So on world cancer day, I remember my mom and a million memories that wrap their warmth around me. On world cancer day, while i have of course not experienced it in my physical body, I walked it with mom and I will share that cancer taught me to love deeper, even when it hurts. Cancer taught me life is so short and I need to seize the opportunities that come my way. Cancer taught me to fight against the difficult moments. Caner taught me the value of "one day at a time". Cancer taught me to value what matters. Cancer taught me more than I wanted to learn at my age, but left me with lessons unforgettable.

 I wouldn't wish cancer on anyone nor for others to watch a loved one walk it. But I do know that mom would want me not to grieve on a day of world cancer day, but to teach others what I have learned in the process.

 Thanks for the lessons, mom, even 9 years later your cancer still teaches me....

Relay for Life, mom's last year of life, 2010

Spoiled Milk

You know those days when they start out with one thing and then it kind of snowballs.... 

 Well, this morning was that kind of Monday morning. I woke up super sleepy (call it the Superbowl's fault or blame it on a new routine of Saturday classes and not getting that extra day of rest...). Whatever the case, it definitely felt like a Monday morning to me. However,  I got up as I typically do, ahead of the others, to  have my quiet time with my coffee. At 5:45 I prepared for my run and set out on that. 

 It was definitely a Monday kind of run... sluggish and maybe even slightly discouraging because of the sloth-like feeling I was expereincing. However, I maintained positivity by saying to myself "At least I'm out here..." 

 When I returned home, I grabbed a quick shower and then went searching for a bit of breakfast to quiet the growl in my stomach that was already speaking to me in its efforts to fill the hunger gap in lieu of (trying to) eat keto"ish" recently. Not die hard, but enough so that I definitely am craving the chocolates!  I settled on a bowl of cereal, as I didn't feel like eating eggs again. I do enjoy cereal, I just don't usually feel satisfied for too long with it, so I don't allow that to be my meal too often.  I poured my cereal, looking forward to the oat squares in my bowl. I took one bite and spit it out... 

 

What disapointment (and disgust!) to find out that the milk was spoiled and had totally ruined the bowl of cereal... which happened to be the last bit of the box. I was left wtih a terrible taste in my mouth that neither toothpaste nor my second cup of coffee could erase. On top of that, to make it worse, as I looked in the fridge, I discovered my 15 yr. old son had already opened the new milk ( because he'd discovered the old one was bad!) and had not thrown out the bad milk! That is atypical of him, but just played into this beautiful Monday start.  

  Some days are just like that. A rough start, followed by more irritating things that interrupt the desire to remain positive. I could totally be annoyed and grumpy about all of the above things, and I kind of want to be in some ways, but where will that get me? Only to a more grumpy place. Being positive in the midst of struggle is a challenge. I do this super well for others, but not often for my own self and I am working to change this. 

    James 1:2-4 says "Dear borthers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurances is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing." 

   No one likes that verse really, I don't think, because we don't want to see our troubles as a way of growing us. Troubles hurt. They are annoying. They bring pain or frustration. But they also have the ability to make us better, stronger.... If we let them. If we allow the endurance to grow us, it will reshape us into a new perspective. We will learn ourselves better, we will learn Jesus better, we will learn those around us a little better. But... yes, it kind of stinks in the process. 

 Now, a bit of spoiled milk and a sluggish run doesn't make for a lot of "trouble" honestly. However, it does carry my perspective to the right place for the real world struggles I do face. The friendships I need to let go. The tough words I may need to say. The boundaries needed to be put up. The evaluation of the hurts that need to be released- i.e. forgivness to offer, whether asked for or not. Pushing through rejection. Accpeting "no" or learning to say it myself. The every day choices we have to make that can shape us into being stronger and better but at times can be excrutiatingly difficult. Those are the real-world perspectives that spoiled milk make me reflect upon in my steps of growth to endure in new ways. 

 I left the house without really eating breakfast, kind of stewing on the gross bad taste left in my mouth. However, God has used that bad taste to remind me where my perspective needs to be and what He is working to do (with such patience with me) to remind me to renew my mind... change my attitude... let the difficulties reshape me and put on my positivity.

 So, I didn't get my cereal, but thank goodness for coffee ;) . I didn't get in a speedy run, but I'm thankful I dragged myself out to do something. I drank a bit of spoiled milk, but there's a new carton ready in the fridge. I have many blessings to count as I go into this rocky start to a Monday. I will focus on those and the process which is being done at this point from the inside out and choose joy and laughter.  After all... the story is kind of funny (now). 

Live Abundantly

I was once told that my blog would possibly be more effective or more read if I chose a topic or followed a theme with it.
  I attempted that at one point. I've moved from talking about grief to discussing running and sharing about spiritual growth. I generalized my blog as a platform to write about faith, fitness, family and friendships. Mostly I hold to that, though it kind of gets a little scattered, and I know it.

 But... I'm not writing on this platform to be a professional author (yet ;) )  nor do I write here to have a large following. It is nice to know when a person reads the blog, of course. However, I write for the purposes of processing my own thoughts many times. Yes, I could do that on my own in a journal and I still do for the more deep moments. But I hope that somehow for the few who may read this, that my blogs either 1. Help prompt the thoughts a little, help people grow or think about life al little deeper. or 2. At the very least gain a little insight to me. Those who read this likely know me in some way, shape or form, and shy of writing emails or letters to everyone, well, this is a way to share a little of life.

 I have in the last year grown in an enormous way. I took 2019 to be a little more internal with my thoughts, more purposeful, if you will. I learned very  much. Now, moving into 2020, I feel that growth propelling me forward in new ways, which can at times prompt new growth and new lessons in life. I'll find myself blogging about those more through this year, I am certain. Perhaps the lessons I drank in during the last year are going to come pouring out through these pages this year. Time will tell. Today I want to share about the word I've chosen for 2020. It's 2 words, actually.

                                                    LIVE ABUNDANTLY

 I'd like to give a little background on this choice. In 2019 I used the word purpose and through the year often found myself turning in to that word, thinking about why a situation was happening, what my purpose was in the moment or how to keep pushing towards my created purpose in this life of being a wife, mom, employee, and child of God. Through it I learned so much, but I will say that it came at times with struggles to push through difficult moments. Standing up for what I felt was right; enduring rejection at times; pushing through emotions; learning more about who I was created to be in the pursuit of fulfilling purpose. It was a journey and one on which I continue.
 But I admit, there were days I struggled to enjoy that journey. And so as 2019 came to a close and I began thinking about 2020, I could not get away from a verse that kept coming to my mind.
  John 10:10 "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly."

 I want to live abundantly. I want to be joyful in all that I do. I want to enjoy life to the fullest, because that is what HE wants for me. I want to, even when it gets hard, find ways to be positive and live life abundantly. live out experiences. Laugh more. Deepen the relationships that matter. Forgive. Repair broken pieces. And continue living out my purpose- fully! Living life abundantly.

 Let me be honest with you about this- I struggle to do this well. I am super good at supporting others and helping them see the silver lining or just being present with them. I am good at being patient and helping diffuse situations with peaceful and calm words (usually). However, I struggle inside with anxiety. Anxiety is an invisible sickness that consumes the body at times. My heart beats fast, deep breaths become necessary and my throat tightens up. Anxiety is real. It is hard to explain to others. I've been told that as a believer I shouldn't feel that, i should just pray and it'll go away. I've been told that anxiety isn't a thing. I've been told to get over it and many other things. I've been told that I should count my blessings because I have many of them. This I know- 100%.
 I don't choose anxiety. I do everything I can to fight it. It is invisible. And it often is one of the "thieves" that comes to steal and destroy the joy that I should have. Paul talks in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 about a weakness he desperately asked to be taken away, but in the process learned the grace of God to be sufficient and to be his strength. That is me with anxiety. But in spite of having that invisible battle within, He wants me to live abundantly. Because He is my strength.

 So that is what I am working towards doing. That is my word for 2020. And that is what I share today. I will continue to share the difficulties through these pages because those are the lessons in life that teach us. However, I hope to also share the amazing moments that come from living life abundantly, one day at a time.

Puddles and Ice and Finish Lines

Saturday morning I woke up early to do my "long" run for the week. I say long in "" because I'm not at a great distance as of yet; I'm working to rebuild to get there. However, in lieu of not having trained for some time, it was a long run.

 I had been watching the weather the day before, as it finally turned winter here in Ohio. I do not enjoy the cold, so I was rather savoring the 40 and 50 degree runs I was getting in during January. When I woke up and prepared to head out, I layered up because as of 6:30 am Saturday, it was raining and a little windy. There was a thin layer of ice hanging ever so beautifully on the trees and glossing the grass. I tested out the streets and decided that they were only wet, and not slick, so it was ok to head out.

 I began my run...

 These are the moments I both love and hate about training. I dislike the cold and wet combination in the winter. I dislike the dark morning in the midst of January. However, I enjoy the peace of others not being out. I also enjoy that the training process is really what shapes me. I love what I learn through the months of working hard at the miles, ever so slowly. I enjoy the thoughts flowing freely.

 Through the run, I dodged puddles and had to walk in spots which did prove to be slick. I became soaked (and decided I really ought to invest in something waterproof when I run in these cold rains).  But all the while, I felt good about getting out into the morning to do my run. I know that I will never be that person winning age group awards, but through my running, I do feel like I am winning at life. I am growing in the person I want and need to be.

 As I ran Saturday morning, I found myself comparing the run to life. This is why I always say the training journey, for me, is more valuable the the race itself, because of what I learn about me along the way.  I tried hard to dodge the puddles, but inevitably found one which soaked my feet, much to my chagrin in the cold wind.
 Isn't life like that? We work hard to keep on the right path, doing our best to dodge the "puddles"- aka the rough spots, the hard times, the "oh crap" moments. Yet, no matter how hard we try to do that, sometimes it cannot be avoided. We just have to walk (or run) through them. We have to get both feet wet in order to keep moving forward. We can't push through the day until we've walked through the puddle.

 After I made my way through that puddle, a mile later, I found a very slick spot. It was icy and I could spot it before I got to it, but I could not avoid it. Therefore, I had to slow down and walk. Life also calls for that at times.
 We gain momentum, we feel good, and then comes an icy patch.... forcing a slow down. This may mean re-evaluating a path we are on. It could mean looking intently at those who surround us and whether they are going to help us cross that icy path or do we need to let go and do it on our own? Call my evaluation a stretch if you will, but for me, it's a very real lesson in life. Seeing it in the light ahead of me was a helpful "heads-up" of what was to come, but I could not avoid it, simply prepare for it and slow down. Better to see it than to be caught off guard and fall on my face.

 Finally passing that patch, I was able to finish out my run well, albeit wet and cold. But I finished well, and isn't that what really counts?

 Jesus never promised an easy life here, he in fact said there would be troubles (puddles and icy patches).  But what counts is how we push through those, what we learn in the midst of them and how we finish the race. I want to finish well, don't you? I want Him to be where my eyes are fixed. I may get wet feet and slick patches along the way, and I'm sure I will fall more than once, but ultimately in the end, the shoes will dry and the ice will melt and there will be a lesson learned through it all, and He will have been there the whole time.
   Hebrews 12:1-2 "Do you see what this means- all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? i means we'd better get on with it. Strip down, start running- and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race were in. ...."

                               

Be Kind...Just Because

 January 18, 2020.

  Today would be my mom's 71st birthday, so she is on my mind and heart more than normal. I started this blog as a way to process my thoughts after she passed away because it was rare to find someone around me who really understood that. I've been enjoying getting back to my writings, whether others read them or not. I don't always write about grief or my mom because life shifts and that comes in phases. But today feels a worthy way to remember mom a little, while utilizing the pensive time to recognize her in how she lives out through me, through my siblings, through my children.

 If you asked me catch phrases or specific things my mom would say, I can't tell you exact words because there wasn't always that "one thing" like others may experience.  She didn't have a phrase that I now repeat from having heard it so many times over. Do you follow me? But what my mom did have was a story for so many ways to relate to others. She also had a song for literally everything. And my mom had a very good listening ear. So what lives out in me that I find myself repeating are her songs and her actions.
 When my mom wanted to learn scripture, she would make up a song for it so that she would learn it. Now, these were the days that King James Bible was more popular, so many of the scriptures I hold in my head and heart come from there.
  Verses like "Be ye kind, one to another, tender hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." Ephesians 4:32 and she had a song for that.
   As mom would sing these songs, I saw these ways lived out through her life. My mom was kind to all around her. I do mean that literally. I don't remember her saying things like "the Bible says to be kind, so that's what you need to do."  But I do remember her songs and then more than that, watching her live those out. So inadvertently, she did leave me with simplistic piece of her that gets recalled upon a spark of a memory.
  Her kindness was lived out through the many hours she would drive me back and forth, but how I can remember she would also pick up my (non-church) friends who wanted to come to church but had no way of getting there for having a single parent who was working and not at home. I remember that she would be kind to the girl in my class that others picked on. Mom did not go out of her way to be kind to a stranger, but she was always affecting people in that way simply by extending a smile. Instead of getting angry, mom would say "Oh bother" roll her eyes a little and keep going.
    Mom would bake for people. She invited the widows over for lunch on Sundays and we would play games with them for hours- Grandma Murdoch, Mrs. Duddleston and others.
     The list of kind acts my mom did could go on for a long time. I can even recall my mom , in her days of being sick, had a certain woman stop by the house. This woman, to be honest, was one that was very hard to have a conversation with because she talked forever and was inconsiderate of anyone around her. But she came to visit my mom, and my mom sat there kindly, let the lady talk, didn't push her away or say she wasn't up for it. She just loved others. She didn't leave me with a catch phrase, but she left me with so much more through her example.

 I remember my mom every day, but of course on her birthday it is a time I am going to get lost in the memories of her more deeply. I'm not sad about it, but I am remembering her and I certainly do miss her. What I want to say is this, this something that my mom didn't say in so many words but she did by her example:

 Be kind to others around you. You never know how they are feeling or what they are going through.
 
 Forgive. Forgiveness is not so simple. It is hard, especially when not asked for. But as I am actively working on this, mom's KJV song comes to mind "Be ye kind one to another, tenderheartedly forgiving one another...."   Forgiveness is hard. Kindness is, too, at times.

   I leave with an active example of kindness I experienced today.
     To celebrate mom's birthday, after she passed, we started a tradition in our home of having donuts on her birthday. Baking a cake felt too weird. But this morning, as I went to get those donuts, the gal behind the counter was so kind to me. She didn't know me. She didn't know today would be a hard day for me. She had no idea why I was buying donuts. But she was kind, just because. And her kindness will sit with me all day.

 So, to the gal at dunkin donuts, thank you for being kind... just because.


   Being kind makes a difference. Not for a reason. Not for a return. Just because. Being kind is being the light and life of Jesus to all those around you. My mom taught me that in her every day interactions. I am thankful for her life and will celebrate her today. Happy Birthday, Mom.

   

The Little Things

It is as I have always said, truly the little moments in life are the ones we need to embrace; the moments we will want to hang on to forever.  Yet, somehow they are often the ones overlooked.

  This year, for my word, I have chosen Live Abundantly. Yes, that's two words. However, I am already finding depth in them. I will share about those another day.  However, being conscious of living abundantly truly does mean, in part, taking in all of the little moments. Thus, I will work to return to this habit on Fridays of collecting the little moments for a time to reflect and smile, To live abundantly and be joyful.

 - I forgot how tiring going to class and working can be. Classes started again this week. However, I also nearly forgot how much I enjoy the challenge of learning and taking in the experiences of being stretched and soaking in new information. My class on Human Rights this semester is already proving interesting.

- It's the little things- like having a winter snow hat I love to protect my ears from the whipping wind. The hat has a "fur" ball on top. It isn't really fur, but it looks like one. It wraps my head in warmth and makes me smile.

- It's something as simple as my husband starting my car for me in the morning when I didn't ask, just because he knows I like getting into a warm vehicle.
 
 - It's baking a new cake recipe, taking a risk, but thoroughly enjoying the process of experimenting a new taste.

 - It's picking up my daughter from work at 9:45 and listening to her stories of the day on the ride home.

 - It's making time to write again. Though the blogs may be geared differently and perhaps not as frequent, writing again makes my heart happy.

  These are fleeting moments, but ones that make me smile upon remembering. Time marches on rapidly.

Let's get Real... about Leadershi

Leadership is a topic that has resonated in my heart over the last many months. Through a series of events, I have found myself learning and growing in this area. I have learned that there are many different styles of leadership and versions of how that looks.

 However, through the lessons and the growth, I have found my own definition of the way this looks. I have been under leaders who have barked orders and everyone just does the tasks because it is their duty. I have been under leaders who have felt they deserved the respect, and didn't earn it - those were hard circumstances. I have been under great leaders who took time to listen, mentor, ask me questions and learn me for who I was and guide me in such a way that I could begin to find my own way through the process of being a leader. And I have had leaders who were a little scattered, unsure and yet still in charge, leaving me in a place of having to give respect, even if I didn't feel it in my heart.

 Through the variety of leaders I have had in my days, I have begun to find my own way of being a leader. I believe in team unity. I believe in celebrating others' accomplishments. I believe in leading alongside a person and not leaving them out to figure it all on their own, only to find they were so lost that nothing was done. I believe in being in the trenches with the persons, not ahead of them just because of being a leader.

 What I believe is really neither here nor there to anyone reading this blog. This blog helps me work through my own thoughts and if it helps another person in the process, then I am very happy for that. I have come to have a strong belief in who I want to be as leader, but with a willingness to continue reshaping that as circumstances or people change. But I want to get real for a moment.

 Getting real and vulnerable at times is risky. However, I also find value in that as a leader. Genuine vulnerability at times is a way that I believe people can relate and find comfort and trust. And trust is essential as a leader. So, let me get real for a moment.

 I've been put into a place of being more of a leader in the recent months. With that has come challenges I had never had to face. With that, came shifting friendships that have been hard for me to accept. I promoted within my office, and I didn't fully realize some of the difficulties that would produce. While there has been a great acceptance to that, it has also come with resistance. And that resistance has been hard for me to adjust to and understand.

 I love to understand people, to relate to them, to help them. However, I am also learning that, in this particular circumstance, being a leader does mean guiding, having tough conversations, being real... but it also means accepting a situation for what it is and moving forward, regardless of the other person's choice. And that is hard for me.
 I want to pull that person alongside me. i want the team effort to flow effortlessly like it did before. But I cannot change another person. I can only change me. I can learn from yet another obstacle and work my way through navigating it and become a stronger leader because of it.

 I am a people pleaser by nature, but learning how to have hard conversations is part of being a leader. I learned through one leader who did not like having those hard conversations the importance of them, whether I like it or not. And now I am having to practice that. And it stinks. But it is pushing me in my growth and shaping me into a stronger person for the experience.

 yesterday as I faced yet another hard moment in the circumstance with this person, I literally wanted to cry. I wanted to cry because the one person who had always been my support (there) has become the exact opposite of that. I wanted to cry because that person, and those who surround that person, now seemingly dislike me. And I have done nothing to deserve that. I have simply been me. I worked hard. I learned. I cried. I laughed. And I pushed my way through some times that were incredibly challenging... and I grew through those. I sought mentorship. And those mentors pushed me, helped me see myself in new ways and I took those and let those truths grow me and through that, I believe, I was able to be in a place of promoting.

 But back to the circumstance. It has been a challenge. And yesterday I found myself saying a truth that leads me to this blog today. When I finished yet another difficult conversation with this person, as frustrated as I felt. I landed on a statement in my mind.

 At first I said: I don't deserve this behavior. I've done nothing but help and love in a time I could have responded very differently. And yet I'm being rejected in a sense. And it hurts. I felt rejected.

 But then I had a Truth moment: So did Jesus.

 Jesus said we would face trouble in the world. He said we would be rejected. He said we would face times like that. And while I am not being rejected directly because of my faith, neither was Jesus always rejected for those reasons.
 Jesus loved. Jesus healed. Jesus was not always loud, but often times did His leading in a quiet way, alongside his disciples. Jesus did not abandon any of them.
 But Jesus was rejected. He was rejected by Judas, betrayed by Judas, his very own disciple. And that hit me hard yesterday.

 Being a leader has challenges. It also brings growth and beauty. There will be moments of rejection from others from disagreeing moments. There will also be new bonds formed. I feel I have many lessons to learn along this path and plenty of growth ahead of me. But I am looking forward to the journey. Leadership is scary. However, it is also quite exciting. I can't wait to see what this year will bring... one day at a time.