I Second That Emotion

This is the time of year for reflections. I've been especially reflecting on my life and thinking about some of the things that I've learned this year.  I've learned some very important lessons from my children this year.  We have both a 4 year old and a 12 year old in our home, which essentially means I have two toddlers.  I have two young people in my home that have little control over their own emotions, which is completely developmentally appropriate for each of them, considering their respective ages.  I, on the other hand, have a hard time sometimes controlling my emotions while parenting them, but what's my excuse?

I've especially learned this year that I need to focus more on how I react to my children than on how they react to me or to life. They are learning how to handle "life" by watching me and by following the example I set. How I respond to "life" in front of my kids is what matters.  When my 12 year old loses her cool after I tell her she needs to clean her room,  do I lose my cool? Or should I lead by example,  and calmy explain that her room needs cleaned and follow that with lovingly,  but firmly, explaining the consequences of what will happen if she chooses not to follow the rules?

I make mistakes every day as a parent. Thankfully,  every day I get to wake up and try again to be a better mother than the day before.

It is an honor to parent these two little people.  I hope to send them out into this world as bigger and better contributors to it than I could ever have imagined.

One thing is for sure, my children have been my greatest teachers.  I am beyond blessed to be their momma.

The Human Spirit

I grew up adoring my grandmother.  She taught me some of the most important lessons in life. She taught us that when you go to Dairy Queen, your dessert should be eaten first because it's the best part of the meal.  She taught me that a lady should always wear lipstick.  

She also taught us that we should always give tithes and offerings to the church.  In fact, some of the most important lessons she has taught me has not been by the words that she has said, but through the life she has lead. For instance, I watched my grandmother serve at her church in all sorts of various capacities while I was growing up, and I knew that I wanted to grow up and serve others, just like her. 

My grandmother now has dementia.  She does not know who I am and she doesn't know most of her family members.  She has slowly faded away, both in body and in mind, over the last few years because of this horrible disease of which doctors cannot truly pinpoint what has caused it. 

Even though my grandmother's mind and body are fading away, her soul is not. 

The Bible has many verses that discuss the spirit within us (a.k.a. our souls).  Proverbs 20:17 says: The spirit of a man is the lamp of the Lord that sheds light on one's inmost being (NIV)."  Psalm 119:175: "Let my soul live and it shall praise you."  God is telling us that our bodies and souls are two separate beings, and my grandmother is proof of this. 

On Thanksgiving day, my family stood in a circle in order to pray for a blessing over the meal.  After my dad said a simple prayer, my grandmother came right over to him and gave him a big hug. She couldn't speak, as she is unable to speak now, but she was truly so happy about the prayer and this was undeniable to everyone in the room.  I wasn't there to see it, but after hearing about it from my mom and grandpa, I had to share this.  Her soul was touched by the prayer, even though her mind and body could not express her feelings.

3 John 2 says: "Dear friend, I pray that you are in good health, just as your soul prospers." 

It is clear, as my grandmother's life is testimony to, that our bodies may not prosper, but our souls do.

Now, the question is, what will you do to feed your soul?

We must feed our souls by studying God's word daily, by prayer and, most importantly, by sharing God's love with others.  Because my grandmother was faithful in all of these things, her soul will prosper far beyond what her body could ever do.

 

Chicken Magic

When we were growing up we lived in a small suburban town in a regular house.  We did not have any amount of acreage at all, but that did not matter to my mom in terms of turning the backyard into a farm.  We had several chickens and two ducks for a while in our backyard.  I have no idea what the purpose of keeping the ducks was... My guess is that she used their droppings for fertilizer for her huge garden.  Other than that, I have no idea.  As for the chickens, we ate their eggs.  I remember heading out into the backyard to find the brown eggs that they laid.  It was like Easter year-round at our house!  

Don't call PETA and tell on us, but, one of the most amazing tricks that we did with the chickens was "hypnotization".  My brother "hypnotized" the chickens by doing some sort of rubbing on their chests.  The sensation made their bodies freeze (quite likely due to fear).  He could get them to lay on their backs and not move at all.  It was the funniest thing.  I will be honest, I was slightly afraid of those chickens, so most (all) of the tricks were performed by my oldest brother.

The hypnotizing was fun and hilarious, but another great trick was tying up the chickens and forcing them to pull our wagon, like we were on the Oregon Trail.  We used to play Oregon Trail a lot for some reason... I'm guessing we watched and read the Little House on the Prairie just a little too much.  The chickens wouldn't pull the wagon for long, but the fact that my brother could get them tied up for any amount of time was really quite amazing. 

I'm thankful for my fun siblings and for my hippie roots.  I wonder if my siblings and I would be the same creative people we are now if we didn't have some of the activities our parents provided for us in our childhood.  It makes me want to provide more "outside of the box" activities for my own children.  I don't think I'll go as far as to have chickens and ducks in my backyard..... but something cool, that doesn't involve a screen of some sort, nonetheless. 

Violence and God

Today is apparently the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women.  It is interesting that I have been thinking this morning about violent acts done against others and why it happens. 

I've thought a lot about and wondered about how it is that human nature can be both so incredibly beautiful and so disgustingly evil and ugly.  God was really not kidding when he decided to give us free will and we humans ran with it.  We ran and many of us never looked back at him. 

I watched the movie 12 Years A Slave this weekend and I wondered while I watched it why God let slavery happen.  I wonder if others thought the same while they watched it.  Why would a loving and merciful God allow such despicable things to happen to others?  It's not that he allowed it.  It's just that he gave us that free will to choose him or to not.  Clearly the slave owners chose the latter.  In fact, if it were not for God and the love and mercy that only exists because of him, this horrible institution would likely still be legal today. 

This makes me think about my own life and my own struggle.  Of course, not very many life experiences can compare to the evilness and horridness of being enslaved, so I'm not saying that my life experience is similar.  I am referring to the fact that human nature and free will or choice is what has caused me to go through what I have. 

We all have choices to make every day.  My father chose to abuse my siblings and I, and his choices changed the course of our lives forever.  Some of the things we went through I will never forget.  Thankfully, my memory has let go of many things.  I wonder what kind of people we would be today if he would have chose differently.  I wonder what our entire family would be like. 

I do know that he made a choice and now I have a choice to decide what to do with my pain.  Do I become depressed and cause misery to myself and others? Or, do I choose to find the good in others and help others that have gone through similar experiences?  I choose the latter.  God did not allow me to go through what I did.  He never intended for me to be hurt.  He loves me with a love that I cannot even comprehend and he saved me from my abuse.  For that, I am eternally grateful and I will not be ashamed to serve him.

In All the Wrong Places

I have made some really dumb choices in my life.  Most of my biggest mistakes have involved my love life.  I once dated this guy named Frank.  Ok, I've never truly dated a guy named "Frank", but for the sake of this life lesson I'm about to share, and for the sake of the real guy's life- to avoid having my biker family members hunt him down after this- I've given him a new name. 

Frank was a charmer at first.  He had a huge smile and he seemed to be very interested in the person that I was.  He was also interested in being a daddy, it seemed.  He was a wild land firefighter (fighting forest fires only) and he seemed to know a lot of people that lived in my hometown.  So, for this single momma, at the time, he seemed like a real catch. 

Pretty soon after starting to date this guy, I realized he had a bit of a lying problem.  He would lie about stupid little things that I couldn't really pin point what exactly the lie was.  I just knew that he had told a lie.  He lied about his family, about money; really about anything he wanted to.  It took me a little while to realize that he was a liar so I gave him a chance at first. However, a real doozy of a lie hit one time that I just could not shake. 

One day I was working hard on a paper at my apartment.  I was a mom, a full time student and I worked full time at the Boys & Girls Club at the time as well.  I was taking 21 credits that term, and for those of you that have taken college classes, you know that is a very full load; especially considering the other obligations in my life.  So, I was working on a paper and I was stressing about finishing it.  I don't know what started it, but he decided to make fun of me for stressing out.  That upset me because this man had no idea how hard I was working in life in general.  During the argument, he told me that when he attended the University of Oregon, he took 70 credits per term.  Really?! This was a lie that I could not let go.  I argued with him about the impossibility of such a thing and he maintained his lie.  I told him that I wanted to see his transcripts and his diploma and he said he would show me "sometime." A few days later, Frank "accidently" left a fake diploma out for me to find.  It almost makes me laugh thinking about it, because it is just so crazy.

It was not long after that argument and after finding the "diploma" that I decided to officially investigate the situation.  Every hurt woman knows how to become a private investigator.  I had already earned my PI wings after dealing with Harmony's dad- but that's another blog entry.  I called the U of O's registrar's office.  Thankfully a woman answered the line, so I could speak with her "woman to woman."  I explained that I needed to verify whether my boyfriend attended there.  At first, she said that she couldn't tell me due to privacy issues.  I explained my situation and that I needed to verify whether he was lying.  She then told me that he had never attended that school.

I confronted Frank about this shortly thereafter.  It was also around the same time that I realized he had stolen about $400 dollars from my bank account to pay for his cell phone. Can you believe that? Stealing money from a broke, single mother who is working her butt off to make a better life for herself and her child?  It blows my mind as I sit here and think about it.  Anyway, I confronted him about both issues and he became so angry that he took the Christmas presents from under the tree that he had bought Harmony and I and left me.  He tried to pick me up and acted like he was going to throw me, and that is the closest I've come to a man trying to physically hurt me like that.  Thankfully, he changed his mind and set me down.  That is when he took the presents and left.  Of course, about a month later, Frank decided he wanted me back and he begged me to let him back into my life.  Thankfully, I was at least wise enough to not agree to that and he eventually stopped and moved back to California (I believe).  I truly believe the man is sitting in a prison somewhere, as we speak. 

I'm thankful that I got away from Frank and that I eventually found a great man that I married.  I just wish I would have stopped dating Frank the minute I knew he was a liar.  If my story can help one of my friends out there that is dating a liar, that is what I want to do, and that is why I shared this experience.  If a man is lying about little things, then he is lying about much bigger, life altering things.  Who has time for that?? Life is too precious and too short to spend any time with a liar.

Shoulder Taps

During the last few miles of my marathon, I struggled.  I was mentally exhausted more than anything, because I had just spent the last few hours pushing through hills and I just did not have it in me to run any more hills.  I was starting to give up and I just wanted to finish.  I had trained for this for the last several months, running several times during the week and consistently every Sunday with Zina for my long runs, and we had practiced on hills many times.  It's not like I wasn't prepared.  It goes to show how much of a mental battle that running really is. 

Just as I started to walk a little bit during the last mile (I know, sounds crazy because I was almost done), a man that I've never met before came running up behind me and he tapped me on the shoulder.  He said "you can do this."  It was his words that helped push me to start running again and to finish strong. 

I want to share this experience because we do not truly understand how powerful encouraging words can be.  We can get so busy in our own lives that we don't take the time to encourage those around us that are working hard to accomplish their goals. 

If I wouldn't have had many "shoulder taps" throughout my life, I don't think I would be where I am now.  I don't think I would have survived being a single mom that continued with her education and eventually earned a Master's degree.  I don't think I would have survived many other hardships I've endured.  We should all take the time out of our busy lives to tap someone on the shoulder each day and encourage him or her to keep going.  We all are struggling in this life together and we can all finish strong together if we can take the focus off of ourselves for a moment.

Marathon Girl

I ran in my second marathon yesterday in Raleigh.  The race started at 7:00 and it was very chilly in the morning.  I was very thankful I purchased hand warmers prior to that, and they were helpful.  My running/training partner Zina was running late and very nervous and on the verge of tears. It was exciting to be there with her, since it was her first marathon ever.  I told her early on that she could ditch me whenever she wanted to, cause it was her race.  After I stopped to use a porta potty, it was not long after that she decided to ditch this slow girl. I will admit, I have improved on my speed over the last few months, but I was still averaging about 10.5 to 11 minutes miles, and she was trying to go faster, which was completely fine.  I brought music along, just in case she decided to do that, and just in case I couldn't find another runner to talk to.  I like to chat during these things. 

Running is, for obvious reasons, a kind of lonely sport.  I run alone most of the time, and I only get to run with a partner about once a week.  I love to chat while I'm running, especially during my long runs, since it helps me forget about the distance. After Zina went on ahead, and after my small talk attempts with a few people around me failed (some runners do not like to talk at all and I am kind of a dork, too), I put on my tunes. 

After a little bit, I started chatting with a lady and we got to talking about running. She said she liked to chat to forget about the distance as well, so I told her that I would talk with her while she finished her half marathon.  She was 63 years old and had been running for the last 30 years or so.  I love to meet older runners because I hope to run well into my older years.  I know that if I take it easy and not over do it, I should be able to. 

When running a marathon distance, 26.2 miles, the first 5 miles are pretty tough for me.  I fight my brain for most of the first 5 miles because it wants me to stop.  After that, the next 5 to 10 miles are relatively easy.  My mind is set that I will be doing this for a while, so it might get used to it.  Then, from 10 miles to 20 miles, it's typically another mental battle for me.  I have to make sure I'm well hydrated and that I'm eating especially during this time.  However, I constantly tell myself that if I can just get to 20 miles, I will be able to do all 26 (.2!).  I pray a lot from around 19 miles to 26 miles that God will help me push through these last few miles and I also visualize my finish.  During this race, my family was waiting at a spectator location, holding creative signs that Harmony made, at about mile 19, and it was perfect timing.  It was just what I needed to push me through those last few, hilly miles. 

As I sit here today, I feel sore and I wonder how soon my body will recover in order for me to start back training again for my next race.  I accomplished my goal of running this one under 5 hours, so I'm feeling great about that.  However, it's never about my speed; it's always more about pushing through those thoughts of wanting to quit.  Every mile I complete is proof of the mental battle I won.  Completing a marathon is like winning a mental war.  It feels good to be a warrior.

Oregon Trip: Part III: God's Beautiful Creation

After the long run with my mom and Harmony following me on their horses, we went home and prepared for our next adventure of the day: a trip to Crater Lake.  Thankfully the government wasn't shut down that week, so we were able to visit this amazing landmark.  Crater Lake is the deepest lake in the U.S. and it was made after a volcano erupted, caused a huge crater, then filled with melted snow, essentially.  Because of the depth of the lake and the purity of the water, I'm completely guessing, this lake is unbelievably blue and beautiful.

When I lived in Central Oregon, I took for granted these amazing natural wonders that were placed all around me. As I was planning my trip, I realized that I missed the beautiful Central Oregon scenery, so I decided I wanted to go visit some of these places.

It is crazy how much in life we can take for granted.  We take so many people in our lives for granted and we also take the beautiful earth that God created for us for granted sometimes.  When we look at the beautiful world we live in, we should really be thinking about how much God loves us, because he created this world for us.  It is not a coincidence that we have gorgeous mountains and trees to look at.  All of the beautiful colors and sights around the world did not come by chance.  It is all for a reason.  Because of this, I want to spend each day in a meaningful way as much as possible and not waste any time, if I can help it.   I need to know what my reason for being in this big, beautiful world is.  Just as God knew the volcano would erupt someday to create Crater Lake, he knows what is erupting in my soul and what will come of it.  It is my job to stay faithful to him and follow his path.  In the proper time, something incredibly beautiful will be the end result.

Oregon Trip, Part II: City Running Vs. Country Running

Since I'm training for a marathon, I had a scheduled long run to do during my vacation in Oregon.  I needed to do at least 10 miles.  My mom loves to ride horses, so it was a perfect opportunity to spend time with her.  She and Harmony rode their horses along side of me while I jogged.  It was a beautiful and sunny Fall day in Central Oregon.  We could see the gorgeous buttes all around us, as well as all of the usual desert plants and rocks.  I couldn't help but compare my city running to this experience of running the country.  First, I must explain that I did not become serious about running until about two years ago, so I didn't spend very much time running in the country when I was growing up. 

There is beautiful scenery to see while running in both the city and country, depending on what kind of person you are.  I am the kind of person who sees beauty in architecture and in artwork that is painted on the outside of buildings.  I love to see stained glass windows on churches and old brick businesses and houses.  I imagine who might of lived in those old houses when they were first built and think about all that may have happened in order to keep that same building standing all of those years. 

While running in the country, you might get to run by a field full of cows chewing on their cud.  If you speak to them, they will turn their heads and acknowledge you, most of the time.  I was a little worried during a shorter run right before this one that I might see a cougar, since cougars are very prevalent in Central Oregon.  Just as I was thinking about what I might do if I saw one, I had to stop and wait for a heard of deer to pass by.  It was incredible!

In the city, you run by "tumble weaves" and in the country, you run by tumble weeds.  They are both a sight to see and they are both a little annoying.  If you are wondering about what a "tumble weave" is, just know that women of all ethnicities wear fake hair (yes, even white women).  Sometimes the hair breaks off at unexpected times or it just flies out of the garbage on a windy day.  That, my friends, is how "tumble weaves" end up flying around on the street.

Both while running in the city and the country I am free to think about whatever it is I want to, and I usually think about how blessed I am to be traveling with my legs in such a way that many people aren't able to do.  I always try to thank God while I'm running so that I never, ever take it for granted.  Regardless of whether I see annoying or beautiful things along the way.

Oregon Trip: Part 1 (The Car Miracle)

My trip to Oregon was truly wonderful.  I loved getting to see most of my family, several close friends and several beautiful natural sites.  It was a short trip, but I had a few very memorable experiences that I will be sharing with you over the next few posts.... 

So here goes.... (this one's for you, mom)....

After spending a fun night at my brother and sister-in-law's house in Portland after flying in on Friday night, we had gotten up early on Saturday morning.  My mom, sister, daughter and I were headed out to the soccer game of the daughter of one of my best friends.  Almost immediately after we started out on the trip from one side of Portland to the next, something underneath the van started rattling.  It sounded like the wheel was about to fall right off and roll down the steep hill we were climbing.  Like many women do (sorry to sound sexist), we stopped the van, got out, looked at the tires, thumped them with our little fingers (as if that was the most accurate diagnostic test) and got right back in the van to call a man--- my dad.  He instructed us to head directly to Les Schwab.  For all of my east coast friends, this is a tire store chain in Oregon in which you can expect for about three guys in tight blue pants and white shirts to come running-literally- out to you to fix whatever is going on with your vehicle.  It is a reliable shop, but, of course, you will pay a pretty penny for the tight pants, I mean, the service.

All joking aside, after calling the shop, we prayed.  We prayed that God would hold the car together until we arrived at the shop, which was a prayer that we said many times during my childhood years. Here is kind of what the prayer sounds like: God, please send your guardian angels to protect this piece of junk (no offense, mom) car and get us to safety!

By the time we arrived, the thumping and clunking was much louder.... BUT we made it. The guy in the tight blue pants and the white shirt said that the wheel was basically unattached from the wheel-holder-together-thingy- oh, the axle.  He could not believe we were able to drive for ANY distance under that condition.   

He didn't know about our guardian car angels, though.  They haven't let us down to this day.

An apology

I have an apology to make.  In my last post "120 years" I wrote that it took Noah 120 years to build the ark.  I have to admit that I came up with this number after reading a world famous preacher's (who shall remain nameless) statement in a book, in which he wrote that this was true.  I believed it because I read it.  Well... after a wonderful friend asked me how I came up with this number, I decided to read the chapters again that describe Noah's building of the ark and here is what I found (Genesis chapters 6 & 7): Noah was 500 years old when his sons were born and 600 years old when the flood came.  Thus, by the time of the flood and the completion of the ark, it had not actually been 120 years.  While I know the whole point of the last post was about faith, I do really want to point out that I was actually wrong about the 120 years part. 

I've been wrong about a lot of things in my life...  One thing that I've especially been wrong about is my lack of actual study of the Bible.  I have spent many years reading excerpts from the Bible, and reading or listening to others' interpretations of the Bible.  I am now 33 years old.  The time for the non-sense of a lack of spiritual maturity to study on my own needs to be over, dang it!! 

If you are my friend and you are reading this (and you are a Christian-- I realize many of my friends are non-Christians and may be reading this too--- please hold me accountable to this).  It's sad that I have to ask, but, seriously, hold me accountable to this wish of mine.  While it is crucial to have spiritual leaders in my life, it is equally crucial to be spiritually mature on my own.  No more pacifiers or learning permits for me.  It's about time to be a spiritual grown up, and be real in my faith and my walk with God.

120 years

I've been thinking a lot lately about faith.  Faith is such a powerful feeling and it's instilled in all of us, whether or not we believe in God.  However, the fact that I have faith is what lets me know that there is a God.  It is another beautiful aspect of humanity that proves we have a loving creator.

I have had to utilize my faith throughout my life on many occasions.

When I held my little one-week-old baby girl while she was crying and I was taking a final that my professor allowed me to take late because I was giving birth to her shortly before the day of the actual final; I had faith that if I continued to work hard, I would finish my degree someday and get to do what I really wanted to do in life. Even though I knew I would have to complete school as a single, working mother. 

When I learned that my baby boy inherited the eye disease, Retinitis Pigmentosa, that runs in my family; I had faith (and continue to have faith) that he will still get to grow up and have as much of a fulfilling life as anyone else, regardless of whether he loses his vision completely. 

When I knew that my husband could not work in his job any longer due to aspects out of our control, and when I realized our family needed a change, I had faith that if I made a sacrifice for him and our family, and moved our family across the U.S., that we could have a good  life and God would still help me reach my goals. 

The (true) story that really inspired me to write this post was reading about Noah this week.  Did you know that it took him 120 years to build the ark?! 120 YEARS! Before he built it, there had been NO rain. EVER.  Yet, God told him to do it, so he had faith that God would fulfill his promise, and he built a huge boat to prepare for flooding.  If Noah can have such faith, I can too.  Even if it takes a lifetime, I know that God will fulfill his promises to me.

I will continue to have faith.

The Call: Part 3 (Africa)

So I've been putting off writing this post because I feel overwhelmed with emotion when I think about my trip to Africa.  I was 17 at the time, and I had a head full of beliefs about life and my religion, and I thought I knew pretty much everything there was to know.  This trip changed that mindset.

First, I must tell you that, since I was a young child, I had envisioned traveling to Africa.  For some strange reason, I knew that I would be going there someday.  I used to even draw pictures of what it might look like.  I must have been reeled in by those Save the Children commercials at some point.  I was definitely a sensitive kid.

The opportunity came about when I heard that an organization my parents were involved with called Good Samaritan Ministries (a world-wide non-profit counseling agency) was taking a trip to Uganda.  The second I heard about it, I told my parents I was going on that trip.  They initially smiled and said "ok honey" and kept it moving.  After I said this repeatedly for about a month, my step-dad called the group and inquired for me. The crazy thing is that they were specifically looking for a teenager to take with them! When I heard that, I knew that God had specifically planned for me to go on that trip.  Just like my other mission trips, the money was raised miraculously for me to be able to go. 

I will never forget the moment I stepped onto the pavement at the airport in Uganda.  It felt like a miracle occurred that I had waited my whole life for. 

Throughout the trip, we traveled around Uganda and Kenya.  We visited widows and orphans and brought them food and medical supplies.  I played soccer (they call it football, which makes more sense) with lots of children, I sang songs and danced, and I helped teach social skill lessons, such as relationships/sex education. 

I also washed my clothes in buckets, accidently ate one of my contacts, and I lost my luggage for two weeks, so I had to wear my friend's long dresses that didn't really fit me.  I bought beautiful African art work that I still have.  I picked coffee beans off trees and saw monkeys swinging from trees down a main highway.  I went to the zoo and saw a huge hole in a lion's cage.  I'm still not sure what was going on with that but it was crazy to see! 

Adding to the plethora of experiences I had while there, I also got infected with malaria. Despite taking all of the precautionary measures, I still became infected.  I think it was because I stayed the night with the little girls during the last night of camp and my mosquito netting was not properly placed.  They had begged me to stay and every other night I had been going back to the apartment we were staying at for safety and so that I could have proper netting.  Having malaria is like having the worst flu of your life.  I knew I wasn't going to die, but I certainly felt like I was going to. 

With all of the craziness, this trip was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. This is where I learned first hand that true religion is serving the widows and orphans. 

Although it feels good to do, Christianity is not dressing up in your Sunday best and heading to a brick building every week. 

It's about getting dirty by building a house made of red mud bricks for a woman who lost her husband to disease and who has to raise five children by herself.  It's about playing a game of soccer with 20 kids that were all orphaned by AIDS. 

It's also about lending some money to a friend during a hard time in her life.  It's about driving a friend to work while her car is broken down.  It's about spending real, quality time with your children that doesn't involve a screen of some sort.  It's about spending time with someone else's child that doesn't have enough adults to look up to.

This is what Jesus is all about.  I hope all of my family and friends get to meet the real Jesus someday and before that time comes, I want to show him to everybody.  I'm going to fail at it sometimes, because I'm imperfect, but I'm going to try my very best.  Not by what I say, but by what I do.

The Call: Part 2

As stated in my last entry, I had the amazing opportunity to go on mission trips as a child.  When I was 12, I traveled with a group called King's Kids, which was a dance/worship team through a wonderful organization called Youth With A Mission. 

Now that I am an adult with children and have regular expenses, I can really see what a miracle it was that my mom made it possible for me to go on that trip.  We were 'American poor' at that time; meaning, we were not third world country poor, but we were still broke.  It seems that we didn't even have a regular pay check to live month to month by.  My mom was dating a man (who is now my step-dad), but she had spent the last two years prior to that financially struggling through single motherhood. 

When I heard about the trip, I knew it would take a miracle to be able to go, but I knew that God would provide.  After a car wash (or two), a soda can drive, and some donations from family and friends, the money was raised!

On this trip, my team traveled to Spain, Latvia, and Denmark.  Here are some memories from this trip in no particular numerical significance or order (now, remember, I was 12 at the time, so these are the things that were important in my 12 year-old brain):

1.  Some women in foreign countries do not shave their armpits.
2.  It's impossible for many people to drive slowly overseas.  If you want to cross the street as a pedestrian, you better run.
3. A Happy Meal in Denmark is outrageously priced, and chewing tobacco and ice cream made that country significantly wealthy.
4. Eel is tasty (a meal we had in Latvia).
5. The Baltic ocean coastline is beautiful!! It looks very much like the Oregon coast.
6. Cobblestone streets are amazing but your feet will be severely sore after walking on them for a day.
7. Toilet paper can be blue and it is the consistency of sandpaper everywhere else but America.  God bless the U.S.A.
8.  Some people still do not have bathrooms with running water that are attached to their houses (i.e. many people still use outhouses). 

Of course, these are observations that are not necessarily the gospel truth for everyone, but for some reason, my brain held onto these memories that were true for me at the time.

All jokes aside, the experience that really touched my life on that trip was visiting an orphanage.  I will never forget seeing the rooms full of babies and toddlers that were lying in cribs and waiting for someone to pick them up.  Many of them had decided to give up on crying, because that form of communication was of no use. There were too many babies for the workers to care for, so it was impossible to hold each baby when he cried. 

This was the first time in my life that I really focused on someone other than myself.  It was the first time that I took on a world view.  I knew that I had been through my own abuse as a young child, but in comparison, this seemed much worse. 

At 12 years old, I knew I had to grow up to make a big impact, but I also knew that someday I would.  I couldn't let those babies down.

The Call

I have been inundated recently with the concept of 'destiny'.  For the last year (or so) I have been questioning the reason for my existence in terms of wondering what exactly am I supposed to be doing with my time here in this world.  First and foremost, I was meant to be Mose's wife.  Secondly, I was meant to be a mother to Harmony and Mose V.  Aside from that, I often wonder if I am truly doing what I have been called to do with my life. 

One thing I do know is that we are ALL called and pre-destined according to the purpose of his will (Eph. 1:11).  In addition, we were all created in order to do good works, which God outlined for us before we were even born (Eph. 2:10). 

However, with the free will that we have been given, we have been given the choice to decide to walk in that purpose. 

Part of my purpose was shown to me when I was a child.  I had the privilege of going on missions trips when I was 12 and 17.  Both trips were funded by donations by family members and friends, by soda can drives and carwashes, and the trip when I was a teenager was even made possible by extra tips given to me when I was working as a server at the Golden Corral.  It was a miracle on each occasion that I was even able to go on the trip, since my family certainly did not have the money for me to go.  Both trips opened my eyes to the world in a huge way and they both changed my life forever. 

My next two posts will be about these trips, since they each deserve a post (or more) of their own. 

Stay tuned!

Til Death Do Us Part

I read a story this morning about an elderly couple that had been married for 66 years and that had died on the same day.  They both waited for each other to die and then they essentially died together. The wife had been ill, and one day, the husband heard his wife was about to die, so he became very ill on that same day.  He died, then she died within hours.  

I am amazed and encouraged by this story.  Is love really that strong that when one finds out his mate is going to die, that he too can physically become so ill that he also dies?!  

This story reminds me of my grandparents.  They were so much in love until their deaths, that they did not live too long without each other.  After my grandma passed, my grandfather did not live for long much after.  They had such a precious love.

 

Love is so powerful, yet we tend to fight it. 

Some of us try to not fall in love because we are so afraid of what may happen if the love is not reciprocated.  It does take faith in another person to love them.  We let that fear take control and then we never get the chance to feel the kind of love described above because we have been shut down by that fear.  You just have to take that risk!!

After my husband and I had just been married (and during our dating), I gave him hell ('scuse my French).  I gave him hell because I had been hurt so badly by most of the other men in my life, starting with my father.  I was afraid to love him because of that hurt. 

One day, I felt God ask me a question.  He asked, do you want my blessing, or do you want to continue to live a painful life?  Of course, this is a rhetorical question, because, who wants to continue to live in pain? 

Mose and I have had rough moments, of course, during our married life, and we will continue to.  However, when I answered that question from God with an outstanding YES, I WANT THE BLESSING!,  I made a decision to stop the pain I was giving Mose just because another man had created that pain.  Our relationship has strengthened tenfold because of this, and I know, through God's grace, it will continue to grow.

I'm writing all of this to try to help you to understand that pain causes fear, but you can pray against that fear and ask God to open your heart to love. 

When you find that love, I hope that you will fight for it, because it is more precious than anything else life can give you.

Addiction

The truth is... I actually do not like running.  In fact, most days I wake up dreading the run I'm about to do and once I get started, most of the time, I simply cannot wait for it to be over with.  I hear a lot of my runner friends talking about running as if they truly love it.  It's hard for me, and I'm slow, and my body often hurts while I'm running. 

So why do I do it? I guess it's because I'm addicted to it.  I'm addicted to the feeling that I have after I'm done running. I'm addicted to the endorphins.

I don't know if it's in my genetic makeup, but I do know that I have a tendency to become addicted very quickly to things.  I've just been fortunate enough to pick up mostly healthy addictive behaviors. 

An unhealthy addiction that I have, however, is with checking my phone.  I swear, my phone is like a crack rock some days.  I feel so compelled some days to check my phone, that I often have to make a real effort to leave it alone.  It takes more than my own power to not look at it, though. I have to pray OUT LOUD to God that I don't overuse my phone sometimes. 

I can't be the only one out there that feels or thinks this way...

The reason why this is an issue for me is because I would hate for my children to have fond memories of their childhood, but most of their memories involve me being on my phone while we're doing an activity.  It's a very unpleasant feeling I experience when I think about that possibility. 

The reason why addiction exists is because it is a great tool used by our enemy to keep us away from God and all that is good in life. 

Please don't misunderstand, I am not taking other kinds of addiction (i.e. drugs, porn, alcohol) lightly in this post, as I know those addictions are very serious. 

I've just had it on my heart lately to discuss this topic, as I think many of us struggle with our own addictions, whether they are dangerous or not.  Your addiction might be to a certain person who is not good for your life.  It might be to a particular way of thinking that you're used to.  Some addictions can be healthy and lead us to a prosperous life, but so many of our addictions will lead us to sickness and possibly to death, which is the enemy's ultimate goal. 

Granola Kids

Being named Lyrica isn't something that happens when you have average parents. 

First, my biological father is a very talented musician.  He can play guitar and make it sound like several other instruments are playing with him when it's just his guitar. 

Now let me tell you about my momma.  First of all, she is beautiful.  When someone says I look like her, I could just kiss them because this is truly the ultimate compliment.

Since she was a teenager in the 70's and since she had very frugal parents, she made a lot of her own clothes.  She also was an artist, which is a trait she inherited from several family members. Yes, she was a hippie. 

My mom continued her hippie "ways" into her adulthood, as she gave birth to all five of us kids at home.  She don't need no stinkin doctors!! Yep, she is pretty much a super woman.

Since we were on a tight budget with five kids and since she had hippie roots, my mom also sewed a lot of our clothes too.  I will never forget how much in love I was with the Little House on the Prairie dress that she made for me.  She even made the bonnet.  Oh yes, I was Laura Ingalls Wilder.

Not only did my mom sew our clothes, but she made much of the food that we ate from scratch.  She cooked and baked from scratch for health reasons, because she wanted us to eat as healthy as possible.  She grew a garden in the back yard, and we even raised a couple of chickens for eggs.  Mind you, we lived in a regular residential neighborhood.  If there was a Home Owner's Association, we were certainly breaking some rules.

I will share some chicken stories later...

I also remember even having to eat cod liver oil as a child for some reason... I think to get over a cold...but my memory is kind of fuzzy on that one...  However, it could have just been just to be healthy!  Regardless, it felt more like punishment than anything else.  Please do not give this stuff to your children! I don't care how healthy it is. Don't do it.

My mom is one healthy, cool chick.  I will also never forget the fact that after she had her last baby, my youngest sister, she went on a jog around the neighborhood not too long after she gave birth.  In fact, I believe that much of my drive to be active and healthy comes from values she instilled in me from a young age.

In her "older" age, she rides horses and motorcycles and she continues to be the fun, creative, lovely woman she has always been.  I just love her.

I'm not going to spend my life being a color, and yes, white is a color

Life in a bi-racial family is awesome.  Our family is not awesome because we are bi-racial, but because my husband and I found love and built a family together, which has become awesome, just like many other families out there. 

Some people are unsure of what to think when they see us together.  The people that are unsure, will stare and won't necessarily smile back right away after I've smiled at them to let them know I see them staring.  They just kind of have a quizzical look on their faces, like they find it hard to believe that this big black man and little white girl could really be happy together.   I'm not sure, because people are not very direct, oftentimes, but it seems like they think that possibly one of us is not being authentic. 

I try to give people the benefit of the doubt, and hope that they are not being racist, but... racism is alive and well in America, and it has dug roots so deep that people don't even realize they are being racist when they are. 

Two people who look different from each other on the outside may have very similar personalities, ideas and beliefs.  It is also possible for the two people to acknowledge and appreciate any cultural differences they may have, at the same time.  Mose and I take the time to notice and appreciate these differences, as we know our two individual selves have created this wonderful relationship that we share.  We do not deny our individual heritages.

Overall, I feel sorry for people who have confined themselves to a box and believe that they can only be happy with someone who looks like them or with someone who comes from a similar upbringing.  Those people are limiting some potentially great possibilities for themselves, as you truly never know who you might 'click' with. 

Mose and I gave love a chance and I'm so glad that we did. 

How I became a crazy person

I never-in-a-million-years thought I would ever be able to run in a marathon.  I was never a runner growing up.  In fact, I was one of the slowest kids during our timed one-mile tests during my high school PE classes.  I was slow. I was winded. I had no endurance. 

I had done a little running while in college, but I was not a serious, long-distance runner. A little over two years ago, I decided that I needed a new goal in life.  I was under a great deal of stress because of moving to a new city, parenting issues, etc., so I thought that it would be a great idea to start running.  I knew it had been a great stress reliever during college. 

After my first race, which was a benefit for the Red Cross, I was hooked.  I remember looking around at all of the other participants and realizing that I looked like them! I really didn't see too many people that had a perfect 'runners body.'  There was people from all walks of life, black, white, young, old, skinny, and not-so-skinny.  That race was a 10k, which is a little over six miles.  I made the worst face crossing the finish line, because I was working so hard... Of course, it was captured by a family member, and of course, it was immediately put on Facebook so the world could see my horrible 'race face', as we like to call it.  This, my friends, is the reason why, from now on, I will smile at any moment that I even sense that a camera is anywhere near my direction while I'm running.

After that race, I decided I needed to do a half-marathon (13.1 miles).  After the half-marathon, I knew that I would be capable of running in a full marathon (26.2 miles).  Now that I've done one marathon, I've decided I need to do one every year.

So, I am now one of those 'crazy' people that you see running around.  I have yet to buy a fannie pack for my gear.... but it's not completely out of the question at this point. 

I'm not even joking.

Hello, meet my boob

I'm a happily married woman now, but when I was in the dating world, while I was a single mom, it was pretty rough. I had a hard time meeting any decent men. I did meet and date one nice guy, whom shall remain nameless. We were really just getting to know eachother and I had just introduced him to my daughter when we decided to take her to the swimming pool.  It was a great idea in theory,  but it ended up moving our relationship along faster than I wanted. Let's just say, when a two year old wants to grab her mom's boob (pulling away the suit and exposing said boob) while she's wearing a bikini for no apparent reason,  a two year old will do what she wants. The words 'awkward' and 'mortified' do not even describe the feelings I had at that moment. He was a gentlemen about it, thankfully, and thankfully he and I didn't work out. I wouldn't have met my wonderful man that I have now if we would have. 

I guess the moral of the story is, be careful how you choose to go on dates, all you single parents out there! You never know if you'll be prematurely exposed against your will.

Going the distance

"The keys to surviving trials are endurance and faithfulness. " Pastor Joe Johnson

I've survived some trials in my life. I've lived through childhood sexual abuse,  through divorce, through poverty, single motherhood, and the list goes on. 

I loved hearing this quote above tonight at church because it is so true. I've only endured these trials because I've remained faithful.  Yes, I've questioned my faith at times, and yes, I've had times of little faith.  The bottlem line is that I've truly only endured this race of life because of the hope that God has given me that there is greatness coming.  He loves me so much and he has big plans for me.

I think that is why I love running so much.  It reminds me of the tough roads of life that I've gone down. Every time I set a goal,  whether it be another mile ran, a new speed, or any other short or long term goal, I know that I can reach it if I just remain faithful to my training and endure the pain, the sacrifices it takes to get there.

I can do all things....including surviving abuse....including running a marathon...through Christ.

Nuthin but a Kid Thing

We were pretty strange children growing up.   When you have five kids in a family you often have to find creative ways to entertain yourself, and we surely did that. For instance, we loved to memorize movies.  We would watch a scene in a movie, then stop the tape (yes, they were tapes back then), repeat back the lines that were said in that scene, then play the next scene, and so on.  I guess we were dorks, but it was fun!  The best movie to do this with was The Princess Bride.  Yep, I still have it mostly memorized.   I also went through a little 'thugette' stage  and I literally did the same thing with my Snoop Dog and Dre tape in the sixth grade.  Yes, it's still memorized.  I'm not ashamed to admit that I can sing 'Nuthin but a G Thing' like nobody's business.  By the way, there are still some people that listen to tapes....Effie Fulton....

Another one of my favorite childhood memories was making a play or concert in our rooms.  We turned our bunk bed once into a castle and performed Snow White.  I was Snow White (of course) and my sister was the evil witch.  She was way too cute to play a witch, but she loved making the 'scary' witch faces while she 'beed mean' to me.  My brother played the prince, of course, and he rode up on his toy At-At (yes, from Star Wars) to save me from the 'evil' witch.  

When I got a little bit older, I turned myself into Janet Jackson and performed a Rhythm Nation concert for my family.  My brother took care of the sound and lights, and I put on a perfect Rhythm Nation outfit (dark clothes, hat, etc.) and lip synced to several songs from the tape.

I still have not yet gone to see a Janet Jackson concert.  It's on my bucket list.

Introduction

Welcome to my blog! I started my blogging journey back in 2013.  At that time, I was not sure what it would become but the plan was to share my life story within regular posts.  I have taken breaks throughout the years for various reasons. If I'm being honest, the main reason would be due to fear and being afraid of sharing private stories with the world.  Here I am, 10 years later, and have recently found a new passion for writing again. I have committed myself to posting every Tuesday (for at least one year).  The plan is to continue to share my life experiences, mixed in with inspiration I've received from reading God's word. Some may think my writings are too religious or churchy, and I get that. I've been where you are if you are thinking that. My hope for you is that you read my blog with an open mind and heart.  I am not here to brag about my life.  I am writing to share my truths, and to give you hope.  I am sure that many of you have gone through similar struggles and may not realize that there is hope for a better future.

If my story helps just one person find God and therefore find peace, love, and hope, then I've accomplished my goal. I have fulfilled my purpose.  

Here is my original introduction, written in August 2013:

Well, I have officially joined the dorky world of blogging.  This is the age of sharing your whole life story with perfect strangers via various social networks, so I guess I will just participate in the cultural norm and add my two cents on my version of the world.  It seems somewhat self absorbed to talk about yourself every day.  However, I want to be a 'real' writer someday, so, I guess, this is my first stab at it.  This blog will basically be a journal of my life.  I am a little woman with a BIG mind that needs a place to unwind; hence the name of my title (shout out to Carina Hubbard for the name idea). I've lived through so many life experiences, I truly think I can relate to most anyone out there.  Just ask me, and I've probably been through it.  I'm not really sure what will wind up on here, but I plan to share just about everything.  I do not think that God puts us through what we can handle, as some people like to say, but I do think that he helps us through what life (sometimes caused by our own mistakes) throws at us.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I cherish the opportunity to share my story and to give you hope. There is so much more to life than just the physical aspects of it- and that should be obvious to us all.  So, why not take the time to think about it some more and open your mind to the possibility?

Bottom line: As my dad always says, there is a God, he knows your name, and he wants to talk.

Love y'all!!

-Lyrica