Slammin Hoopties

It's funny how memories can come to you at random times.   We were driving the other day and I saw an entrance sign to a neighborhood, which reminded me of the time I rammed my car right into the entrance sign at the apartment building that I lived in when I was 21 years old.

I was driving around a very old car at the time and the brakes were going out.  My boyfriend at that time couldn't (wouldn't) help me fix the brakes and they had been increasingly become worse over the last several weeks.  Our daughter was a newborn at the time and I was working part-time and taking college classes.  I'm not sure why I didn't borrow money to fix the brakes, but, for whatever reason, I decided to keep driving that stupid car with the horrible brakes. 

That particular day, my brakes had turned for the worse.  I was headed home from work.  Our apartments were halfway down a hill and I had a quick decision to make. I could have either let my car keep going down the hill and risk hitting people or other cars or I could run right into the entrance sign at my apartment building and only possibly hurt myself (my baby wasn't with me in the car).  In an instant, I made the choice to run into the sign. 

My car was totaled and the sign was destroyed.  Thankfully, I wasn't hurt.  The apartment rental company wondered if I had been drunk, of course, but I had to let them know in a super embarrassed manner what had actually happened. 

It was not too long after that experience that I decided I had enough with that relationship. 

Looking back at this experience, I don't necessarily blame him for not helping me with the car.  I blame myself for getting into a position in which I relied on an unreliable man to help me with auto maintenance- a task I thought at that time was his responsibility. 

In thinking about this life lesson, it makes me really want to reach out to my single girlfriends and tell them to never, ever do what I did. 

God didn't just give me a sign that day that I needed to end that horrible relationship, he spared my life (and the lives of others) by providing a sign for me to use as a landing pad for my little hooptie.  Who says he doesn't have a sense of humor?!

Fierce and Fearless

I've always wanted to write a book.  I've loved reading since I was a young child and I've loved to write my own stories from a very young age as well.  It is a dream of mine to write a complete book someday, but the topic has not been given to me yet.  I would love to write as eloquently and beautifully as some of my fellow writing friends, but I know I have a ways to go in expressing myself in written form.

I've taken a break from my blog for a while, as you can tell.  I would love to tell you the reason is because I've been too busy, or that it hasn't been important to me. Well, actually I have been very busy, but this blogging task that I know I've been called to do, is very important.  The real reason that I've taken a break is because of fear.  I am afraid that people will critique my writing style and think that I'm not a good writer.  What if my grammar hasn't been perfect? I have also shared very private feelings and experiences and I became afraid of what my friends and family thought about it.  What if I offended someone who was directly involved somehow?  Mostly, I have been afraid of how I have come across.  I do not want to appear as though I think I am an expert.  In fact, I have so many weaknesses and most of the topics that I write about have been placed on my heart because they are things that I personally need to work on- just as much as anyone else. 

This causes me to think about the power of fear.  Fear- to a certain extent- can be healthy.  If we don't fear consequences, for instance, we will repeatedly make dangerous mistakes.  However, fear can also can be life altering and distracting from what our lives are really meant to be.  For instance, if I would have let the fear of raising a baby by myself control me after my daughter was born, I quite possibly might not have decided to continue going to college and complete my degree, despite the odds. If I would have let my fear of running a 26.2 mile long race control me, I would have never ran such a (crazy) distance and I would never known the strong feeling of accomplishment after I completed my first marathon. 

I'm thankful for this particular life lesson.  I can't let my fear control the mission that has been set for me.  I am responsible before the Lord in the end for what I have done with my life, not anyone else.  Regardless of what some people may think, there is at least one person that needs to hear what I have to share.  That is enough for me to know to press on.