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.
Friday, February 28, 2020
Tuesday, February 4, 2020
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....
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 |
Monday, February 3, 2020
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).
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