3 ways to build inner StReNgTh

I have been asking myself lately what quality I want to have and work on the most that I don’t already have or one that I need to continue to work on. Yes, I am incredibly honest and I’m engaging, … Continue reading

God is With You

This is taken from the study I just finished called “The Sacred Search” by Gary Thomas and it is worth sharing because so many of us go through life letting marriage or failed marriage define us:

Remember how we started this book? Seek first the kingdom of God. Not a happy marriage. Not an easy marriage. Not even a wise marriage. Those are all noble pursuits, but the first call of every Christian is to fulfill God’s will for their life and to grow in righteousness. Most of us will not be called into a Hosea marriage, but some of you, even after making a careful choice, may well feel Hosea’s pain of betrayal. This will hurt, but it needn’t wreck or define your life if your spiritual priorities are in the proper order.
The truth is, no marriage is easy. There is no guarantee that the person you marry will continue to grow in faith. She may backslide. He may get sick or break psychologically or spiritually. But you’ll be okay. And you’ll grow in the process. That’s a good thing.
So take a deep breath. God isn’t going to leave you. Who you marry will affect you, but that person’ needn’t define you. Don’t lose your joy, wonder, or even happiness as you face this season in your life. Life is a journey walked hand in hand with God. We want to walk in wisdom, but God has plenty of experience helping His children work through the consequences of foolish choices (their own and others’).
Embrace the soul-healing words of Christ: “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matt. 28:20).
* Look at your spiritual life, your prayer life, your romantic life. Are you believing that God will be with you always? Do you trust Him?

Life is worth Living

Here I am working on homework again; homework that constantly challenges my thoughts on life, crime, Justice, and passion. When everything boils down, I’m not afraid to die…not afraid to make a stand for what is truth. Knowing the background of criminal justice and understanding it from a Christian perspective is sort of similar to having become a foster (and adoptive) parent. Even when life is rough, like really crazy and tough, you keep thriving. Life is so crazy: unfair, yes, but HE said HE would take our burdens. It is something I constantly fall back on. Man I would be a mess with my Heavenly Father and His forgiveness. 

I’m often told I have a big heart. Huh, it isn’t bigger than any other’s, but really, it’s been a broken mess for the last decade. Losing children and not being able to see them every day is heartbreak that I could have turned around and blamed on God-especially because wasn’t it He who their dad used to take them away and his so called Christian lawyer that took every good and amazing trait God gave me and twisted it to make me seem like a bad person? The one who couldn’t admit that in his heart he’d been committing the same crime for which I committed once in flesh when HE looks at all sin as equal. And yet, when my friends ask why and how can God allow innocent children like Victoria Martin, to be brutally murdered, “a child who needs protection,” I can say that it is HE who is protecting soooo much more. No that doesn’t mean there are hazards or ones who He’s allowed to slip through. For one, we don’t know HIS plan, and for two, HE may have known how badly this child needed to go HOME to be with HIM. There are no tears or pains in heaven. This is practically Hell at least for some…certainly was for Victoria. My heart hurts for her and the acts committed by those who God gave to protect her wereunfathomable. 

One of my deepest struggles is being able to give myself over completely to HIM. It’s possible though, and when I allowed God to break me totally this year, He blessed me with a business and a renewed determination to reach for the passions He’s given me. I first was passionate about teens and wanting to start a business havingsometging to do with them…but Spokane had a teen program, so it didn’t make sense to my friends and family. God knew that. He had plans for me in New Mexico…one of the most notorious criminal playgrounds in the USA. I never thought that growing up with so much protection and then learning how bad the world really was would lead me into a mission of learning the law and enforcing it, but with humility. 

The greatest thing I want everyone to see in my life is the mercy. The fact that I’m just as imperfect as the criminals and that the only thing that sets me apart is the other fact that God lives in me…shining through the broken heart He so graciously allowed me to have (I consider it a privilege). So yeah, my life is super hard to get through sometimes. I don’t WANT to deal with my broken heart. I don’t LIKE scrounging for the money to pay bills. But ha-life is about relationships and others AND I promised God when He physically and spiritually brought me back to life almost 9 years ago, that this life was HIS. He only gave me passion and the next step in each way of my path and even when I tried to veer away, He’s stayed by and pulled me back. I know I NEED Christ like I need air-more! But I already died in the hands of violence and defending truth once, so I am willing to take that chance of dying that way again (as an officer) and I KNOW that I am living the life He’s gifted me with to the fullest and as transparent as possible. You can not look at what I’ve been through and not see HIS handiwork! It’s just too much. 

Anyway, here is a song that struck a chord in me today:

It’s  “Life Is Worth Living” by Justin Bieber (hey, he has been through a lot and is also a product of grace). 

Ended up on a crossroad

Try to figure out which way to go

It’s like you’re stuck on a treadmill

Running in the same place

You got your hazard lights on now

Hoping that somebody would slow down

Praying for a miracle

Who’ll show you grace?

Had a couple dollars and a quarter tank of gas

With a long journey ahead

Seen a truck pull over

God sent an angel to help you out

He gave you direction

Showed you how to read a map

With a long journey ahead

Said it ain’t over

Oh, even in the midst of doubt
Life is worth living

Life is worth living, so live another day

The meaning of forgiveness

People make mistakes, doesn’t mean you have to give in

Life is worth living again


Relationship on a ski slope

Avalanche comin’ down slow

Do we have enough time to salvage this love?

Feels like a blizzard in April

‘Cause my heart is just that cold

Skating on thin ice

But it’s strong enough to hold us up

Seen her scream and holler

Put us both on blast

Tearing each other down

When I thought it was over

God sent us an angel to help us out

He gave us direction, showed us how to make it last

For that long journey ahead

Said it ain’t ever over

Oh, even in the midst of doubt


Life is worth living

Life is worth living, so live another day

The meaning of forgiveness

People make mistakes, doesn’t mean you have to give in

Life is worth living again

Life is worth living again


What I’d give for my affection

Is a different perception

From what the world may see

They try to crucify me

I ain’t perfect, won’t deny

My reputation’s on the line

So I’m working on a better me


Life is worth living

Life is worth living, so live another day

The meaning of forgiveness

People make mistakes

Only God can judge me

Life is worth living again

Another day

Life is worth living again

Aha! You saw it, didn’t you?! He says “people make mistakes, only God can judge me…” And you’re thinking he’s using that as an excuse? Um, no! Stop that! Stop judging! See? Unless you haven’t ever had any sins or “mistakes” in your life, you can not “throw stones” (judge). No one is perfect. It’s our human nature to judge and blame. We need to learn to accept responsibility and be repentant for only our own actions. I guess I say this because I’m still judged. Even my ex husband still tries to make me feel guilty when it’s he who played dirty in court and tried to turn false accusations on me to get our kids. Why have I not fought this? Because even if my kids don’t see it, I know God did…and He is the only who matters to me. Has it hurt? Oh my goodness! When my old church let him help and lead kids and told me I couldn’t, because of what “I’d done” and then allowed his girlfriend who left her husband for him to help, what a slap! But you see? People judge! God doesn’t and even then He reminded me that no one could keep using that against me. It was like the one mark I couldn’t escape, and it was so hard because I even tried to reconcile and was rejected. I gave my baby up for adoption because I knew it was best for him and the older kids’ dad even said I was taking the easy way out-that I should have to live with my mistakes. :/ A child deserves nothing but the best and I hope my kids know that I have put them first even if it’s not until they read this some day. I was told that my child conceived out of wedlock would get to see his dad who went to prison for what he did to me, who wanted him to grow up and kill his “white” brother. I was told I wanted to stay with this man when in reality, he told me every gruesome way he would kill my dad in front of me if I ever left him. So, yeah, I made decisions on what I thought would be best and the consequences of my sin are real but I would have never understood God’s grace like I do now. Like I said, each of us is sinful-no one is perfect. We don’t know God’s plan for each one of us. All we can do is walk with God, one step at a time. 

Life is worth living again.

Betraying Myself

"My demons mock me as I walk in the cold from class with tears stinging my eyes."

I haven’t written much lately. I have been so consumed with school and my business and family. I don’t know who actually reads my blogs or not nor do I really care as long as in the end some good can come of it. Sometimes I write what I do just to get things off my chest-like my blog is my best friend. I know, I can tell God and heh, believe you me I certainly do tell Him…many times. I cry to Him and yell it out, sometimes begging Him, and always praising Him. Of course, how my life has turned out isn’t His fault but all good is in spite of me and in His glory.

Rambling tonight already…

Basically, I heard this song awhile back from one of my foster kids. It hit a chord with me, especially now this time of year when I feel alone, or at least away from my own parents, and siblings. I’m not necessarily close to any of them. In fact, I have a few friends out there who have stuck with me through everything and lately, things aren’t going well for them. Maybe everyone goes through these feelings of wishing life was something it wasn’t-like a memory mixed with fantasy, because of course, I’m sure in my memory, I’m forgetting all the bleak and dark moments I’ve been through.

My main professor in my major (Criminal Justice) accurately pegged me as having anxiety the other day. He said I spend too much time over-thinking sometimes, especially about the past and the future and that I need to spend more time in the present. Haha, I know that I don’t spend time wishing I could change the past or create some fantasy-filled future though. I do look back on those connections I’ve had in my life and the why as well as the meaning and impact on who I am as a person. Without each person who has been in my life, I would not be this living, breathing, constantly-breaking, yet stronger than super-glue, kind of human being. I am capable. I am strong. I am courageous. But I fall, I fail in my weaknesses, giving into my fear so often. It’s like I’m this walking betrayal of myself; an oxymoron in every way.

Funny, but I remember when my parents took us as kids, through personality tests, I would always be almost identically strong in two areas and they were always seemingly polar opposites. How. Is. That. Possible? I thought, secretly, I must be schizophrenic or something. I always felt like I needed to hide part of who I was because I would seem crazy. Now I embrace my crazy and reflect inwardly on who I am and if there is a deficit somewhere that I can “fix” so that I don’t keep repeating my mistakes in life. Trying is what I do, to a fault. I don’t give up easily, despite being accused of that in marriage several times. I have learned SO much about me these past few years and especially this last year. It’s like every year for the past few years, I feel like I have figured myself out the most. Clearly I am a crazy and complex person-I don’t know how the pieces even fit together. It’s like God dumped out the pieces of a dried up desert and watered them, forcing them to soften and fill in the cracks, connecting into one entity: me.

So how do I keep going seeming like I am this walking contradiction of myself? Am I soft and vulnerable on the inside and tough on the outside? Well, I disagree. I don’t care about the exterior as much, although sometimes I make myself up all pretty. I couldn’t survive the harsh world around me, and the lashings that life has dealt me without being strong inside. My outer shell betrays me-sometimes showing my soft and empathetic heart. My heart is molten and bleeds, erupting in more love than I want to show. But my mind is skilled and tricks me into questioning my feet and where they wander, seeking justice, and truth in all that I do. Is it possible to be a caring person and be in law enforcement? The violence in my past-being beat and raped, then re-victimized in the trauma center is something I still have to face and get over. I have still haven’t written about what happened in 2013, which indicates to me, as a writer, that I haven’t faced it and put it behind me as well as I was able to do with the past.

My demons mock me as I walk in the cold from class with tears stinging my eyes. These insolent “children” who haven’t experienced loss or trauma as I have, that laugh and make light of the rape scenario our lab class is going through. Like tiny needles tapping the rawness of what I went through. The assault I experienced wasn’t the only loss I suffered. Waking up in tiny fragments of time and space and screaming in my head for my daughter, with no one paying any attention to me, not knowing if she was okay. Being told they were keeping my clothing as evidence, what little I had left of being cut off of me. Pounding in my head with searing pain, unable to move or speak-just let tears roll down. My internal anguish from the heartbreak I had just suffered, having my family torn apart, was far worse than not knowing what happened to me when I blacked out-when I was almost killed. The irony of my first ride in a helicopter being me laying strapped down to a hard surface, vibrating my throbbing head against it as I was lifted to a larger scale hospital. Then laying on the large table with a bright light above it. I felt like I had been abducted by aliens, only the ones photographing every inch of my naked and vulnerable body were human. The rape kit inconclusive and the speculations of the deep laceration into my forearm from a knife. The MRI flew by in between blackouts and concluded that I had suffered an unstable spine injury and wouldn’t be able to do anything on my own for awhile-only, all I had was my 4 year old daughter, who I had found out had slept through the whole home invasion (even through the alarm I was able to hit) and found by police in her bed.

I am convinced that had I not gone through a domestic violent relationship, given a child for adoption, left for dead in a hotel room trying to stand up for what I believe, not had cancer, or any of the other less extreme trials in my life that God has slowly strengthened me through, I couldn’t have gone through all this so easily. I did move away, and so facing it wasn’t the same as if I had stayed and advocated for myself. But it drove me to chase after my kids in the town where their dad had moved to. I realized my life has flashed one too many times before my eyes and that I need to spend the rest of it giving to my kids and to those around them who can make it safer and better for them. I am strong and I am a fighter-I will get through whatever God helps me with.

So, here I sit, contemplating why I feel like I’m one soldier in my battle, realizing that even if my life can impact just one person, then my life was not in vain. I am not going to betray who I am and choose the soft sweeter side above the rugged-edged, wild and determined side of who I am. I am going to embrace my past and help anyone who has walked the steps I have with love, showing them that in Christ, all things are possible.

 

Feeling Again

Fingers frozen
Thoughts dancing wild
Inside
Chest is tight
Pulse rising
Can’t touch the keys
With the war waging
Tearing down
Layers of pain
Struggling
Fear is fighting
Trying to conquer
Protecting
My fragile heart
Beating louder
Shattering
Silence
Growing
Now echoing
In my ears
The chorus of life
Remaining
Within my soul
Resonating
Memories
Fading
Blurring the walls
like raindrops falling
Wet ivory now moving
Teaching
My heart to sing
Again

 

Portrait on the wall

The sun shines brightly

Grass green and flowers blooming

Picture perfect, portrait on the wall

We function well

Carrying on this disillusionment

And then one day

A glitch in our system

The facade falls from the frame

Shattering into a million pieces

Leaving behind the nakedness

Truth is life’s ugly

But we cover up our lives

With pretty things

Keeping our world full

Constant activity

Children and what looks like God

But what happens?

When the portrait’s facade falls away?

When life’s rawness revealing

Our imperfection to all

Comes into focus

Only One to know us

To pick up the pieces

And carry us through these hardships

Let everything go

Let it be real and imperfect

Cry and tell Him you’re hurting

And let Him work it out

Or you can

Buy another picture

Cover up the bleeding

And continue basking in the sun

Of your picture perfect life.

 

the valley of solace

rest stop in las cruces july 2014

there is a place

down between those mountains

where happiness seems to thrive

joy seems inevitable

and no stumbling blocks in sight

but it isn’t green grass

nor happiness that drives

rather, the peace is in knowing

He is in control

the solace I find

in the valley

it’s not being alone

it’s not life getting easier

it’s in not knowing what lies over the horizon

it’s in knowing I can not control life

solace is found

at the feet of One

in letting Him lead me

one step at a time

into the great unknown

whether it is up another mountain

through the fire

falling down on my path

God is my refuge and my valley

He is my solace

My Girl

Sometimes at night

When all is quiet and calm

I sit alone in the dark

And I wonder about you

You whose beauty fills your face

Your painful eyes so pretty

Your smile so young

Do you know your place?

I want to hold you

And tell you it’s alright

Your life, it hurts I bet

You put up quite a fight

I barely know you

Just by name

By pictures vague

What they write in vain

But I know you’re mine

And I’ll fight too you know

Your soul is beautiful

And I love you so

Your heart is young

And much too broken

Come here and find

He’s already spoken

He’s watching you

Protecting and all knowing

He’s loving you

Watching you growing

Guiding and showing

Us your spirit

To cherish and call you

Our child-my little girl.

I wrote this the other night as we wait for the process to move forward on foster-adopting a teenage girl.  A teenage girl who seems to have been written off by the “system” and labeled as a “problem child.” If you know me, you would know that this sort of thing is a pet peeve of mine.  All I my life I grew up labeled: “Missionary kid” or “rebel”.

It sucks to be predestined to act a certain way or be someone you’re “expected” to be instead of being loved for who you are, the good and the bad.  This girl is so beautiful and you can see that pain and beauty and depth in her young eyes and I just want to hug her and cry with her as I’m so sad and hurt that she has gone through everything she has.  When kids act out, it is often because of the trauma they’ve had or hurt they’ve experienced and many times they aren’t rebelling against authority, they’re rebelling out of a lack of relationship. (We talked about this in our “Life group” through church yesterday.)

I am okay with problems.  Perfection scares me, to be honest, as I am anything but perfect.  Life is tough and we have a firm foundation, thankfully.  The winds that blow us will not uproot us.  And as a song says, “we might bend but we won’t break.”

“Nathanael”

Recently I wrote about my largest mountain I have ever encountered-the hardest thing in my life.  There is a song I am listening to right now because it brings it all back instantly.  If you’d like to hear, click HERE, (it is a soft rendition of James Taylor’s “Close Your Eyes” or if you want to check out the album that I listened to night and day right after I went through this, it is called “Golden Slumbers, a father’s lullaby”.  I picked it up from the library and my family thought I was crazy but my counselor told me it was a good way to mourn.

This is a heart-wrenching story with a bright ending.  Still makes me cry though because I love my children…each and every one…with ALL that I am.  I would do anything for any of them in an instant.

I lay with my eyes closed, balling like a baby as I held my just-born child-I could feel him, smell him, and hear him breathing.  So real…. And I opened my eyes and there was nothing…. It was the most painful feeling-I can’t even describe.  I had lost babies before-ones that were anywhere from 2 weeks to 4/5 months gestation.  The pain was greater with each miscarriage I had.  The hardest being when I had a dear friend tell me she “knew how I felt” after she had just had an abortion. I couldn’t speak to her for months and she didn’t know why I was so angry.  I wasn’t trying to get pregnant with these babies-I was one of a minority of women who are both incredibly fertile, and yet, had several issues that made it difficult to carry a child.  Each child and each birth was a miracle!  I had four live births out of 10 pregnancies.  (I had a hysterectomy a few years ago due to other issues so I can’t conceive any more).

About 8 years ago, I gave birth to a beautiful little boy, with my mom on my right and my child’s adoptive mother on the left. Each detail is unforgettable to me and I’ve never spoken of it to anyone. It was a troubling time in my life where I couldn’t decide which side of the fence I wanted to commit to staying on.  I loved God but I had felt so betrayed by everything in my life.  Only a month before, I had an argument about my life and trying to change it back around with my older brother, whom I was living with at the time, along with his wife and son.  I was so angry and hurt at the suggestion that I give up MY child inside me for adoption-having carried him by then for 8 months…a long 8 months of hell on earth.  It was a miracle honestly, in and of itself, that he had made it without miscarriage, especially with all the emotional drama in my life at the time.  He was protected…God knew His plan for this child.  I slammed the door to my bedroom yelling behind me “I’m NOT giving him up for adoption, but I’ll pray about it!” (I pretty much screamed this.) And then I went and balled on my bed as I complained to God how awful this idea was.

Somehow, during the night, my heart changed…completely 180.  I woke up and realized my brother was right-this child would be better off with parents (plural) who could care for him and give him a good life-not one with a single mom…conceived out of difficult circumstances.  But then, maybe I would “trick” God…I wanted a whole lot, after all!  A stay at home mom (since I couldn’t be), dad with a good job, mixed races (since he was mixed), Christians…similar to me.  I’m sure there was more, but I can’t recall.  So, I got on the phone with a counselor at the local pregnancy center that had known me since I was born.  She gave me the number of an adoption agency in Tacoma-across the state.

I called and the coordinator just happened to be driving to Spokane at that moment.  She said she could meet me for coffee the next morning.  And while on the phone with her, I got on their website and began browsing profiles, skeptically.  Then I saw them…I asked about this couple and she said she had actually thought of them. They were perfect-exactly what I’d said I wanted for my baby.  Wow!  I balled…this was really happening!

The next morning I met the adoption coordinator.  She said if I was serious, she was going to talk to the people who I had seen online-they had been waiting 5 years to have a child!  Wow!  They were both close to my age.  When she contacted me next, plans were made and the intended parents flew over (across state) just to meet me at dinner.  They were excited and since I’m the type of person that sets her mind to something then follows through, I had no question or doubt in my mind-they were this child’s true parents.  Made sense now that I look back.  I had so many risky pregnancies and had almost lost this baby twice already but he was a fighter.  Fighting for his life…to grow up and live a full life with his adopted parents.  (I won’t mention their name here due to the nature of the circumstances.)  They wanted it to be an open adoption so he could know me and know that I loved him!  (That was new…never had heard of such a thing, but okay.)  And when they told me the names they had picked out and I gave them my list, we had picked the same name!!! I had spelled it “Nathaniel” and they had spelled it “Nathanael” (biblical spelling).  This was too crazy!  And of course, being pregnant, so full of emotions…but now happy and exciting ones.

My doctor only found out right before I was scheduled to be induced.  He was supportive-he had seen all I had gone through.  I have so much respect and adoration for that doctor.  He was the same one who delivered my daughter two years later and then who found my cancer and removed everything.  During the birth, my mom was kind enough to stay with me since I had no husband to do this with.  The adoptive mother was there as well.  The first night after I had him, Nathanael kept his new parents awake (I slept and was emotionally okay at the time, having been through the birth of two others before).  Nathanael actually wasn’t fussy, but you know how new parents are whenever the new baby makes a squeak or takes a breath.

Needless to say, the next day they were exhausted.  My doctor recommended we all stay one more night, after he looked at me.  When no one was looking, he told me he was prescribing me an antidepressant and I looked at him like he was crazy.  He knew something I hadn’t quite figured out yet.  So, that night, I decided to hold my birth child-not because I needed to, but because I knew he would sleep quieter and I could change his diapers and let his new parents get some sleep one last night before setting off on their new adventure as parents.

All night I held this child, as natural as anything.  And when morning came, I gave him back to the new parents.  The doctor came and released all of us.  I helped them figure out their new car seat and watched them drive off, away from the hospital.  The adoption coordinator was the one there for me who took me home.  Guess it wasn’t my family’s cup of tea.  It was a silent ride.  Walking a tightrope of emotion that I didn’t know how to handle.  A child I was attached to for 9 months was gone.  I knew it was good and right…but in so many senses, it felt wrong-empty.  I couldn’t help the bond I had and that night holding him had grown that feeling even more.  He was beautiful…a perfect life-just as much a miracle as every baby born.

She dropped me off and honestly, I think I blacked out a lot.  It was tough, I know that.  The thing that I do remember was how I started out this post….  The heaviest and saddest and worst night of my life.  Coupled with the fact that I had lost custody of my older kids just months before because of the father of this baby and the poor decisions I had made amongst multiple other factors.  Their dad was harsh and cruel and told me he had felt I had taken the “easy” way out (yes, he said that).  Ha!  If he had chosen to allow a child a better life and sacrifice his own selfish desires to have them, I bet he’d feel different…just musing.  Guess that is neither here nor there.

That first night back, I felt like I was holding Nathanael-I could feel him, smell him, and know he was there in my arms.  Then I would open my eyes and he was gone…I couldn’t sleep.  I balled straight through that night.  At one point I also asked God to somehow help.  The pain I felt was too hard-too unbearable.  I wasn’t strong enough for this.  All of a sudden I felt like I was cradled. I know you’ll likely think I’m crazy, but this is what I felt.  I knew that my God was reaching his arms down and holding me…even if it is figuratively.  It helped give me strength.  It still hurt beyond what any human words could ever express, but it helped me go on.

The next day I spent with my older two kids-now 4 and 6 years old.  We went to the library and I picked up a CD called “Golden Slumbers-A Father’s Lullaby”.  I was compelled to check it out.  On the way home I listened to it, with my kids in the car.  I don’t know how much they understood.  They hadn’t met Nathanael-their father thought it best that they not meet him.  I get that.  They have never to this day met him (their father’s choice, not theirs).  I heard the song I mentioned above-You Can Close Your Eyes, and I lost it.  I pulled over and balled like a baby.  My babies cried with me-they knew I was hurting.  They loved me and I loved each and every child-all 3 that I had had.

After that experience, I still cried constantly for the first few days and when I wasn’t crying, it was held back in the back of my throat.  One night I remember arguing with myself, just after I had talked to Nathanael’s mother on the phone, about how I was supposed to be there-I was his mother.  It wasn’t fair.  This was just a stage in the grief process.

By the way, I only took the anti-depressants for one day and they made my heart drop to about 30 beats per minute and feel like I had a truck parked on my chest and I said “no thank you.” 😉  Threw them away, much to my Doctor’s dismay (apparently it’s bad to just go off anti-depressants like that).  But I did find an awesome lady through Catholic Charities who counseled me and helped me so much!  I continued to see her less and less throughout the domestic violence treatment I went through and all that.  There are a few more stories in there but maybe another day.  For now, I want to end this post by reiterating what an awesome and miraculous thing adoption is.  People taking in a child and choosing to love them as their own.  Not that it is a greater love than you would have for your own flesh and blood, it’s just different.  Choosing to love someone unconditionally vs just loving unconditionally because they are your child.  It is similar to how God loves us.  He doesn’t HAVE to, He chooses to.  We didn’t earn it-He gave that gift to us.

Not to get all religious and preachy there, but I want you to know how amazing this story was and how something that was started in so much bad ended up for so much good.

Today, Nathanael is a smart little 8 year old boy.  I got a birthday card from him-he drew on it and wrote on it.  I have seen him approximately 3 times since his birth as they live a ways away.  And, you never know how, when, and if I’ll see him again but I know his parents are doing an amazing job of raising him.

I love you, J and T!  And I love you too, Nathanael!

🙂

I’m Untitled

(Click HERE and you can hear the song I have been listening to as I write.)

Writing….it’s part of who I am.  I write from my heart, words flowing freely and effortlessly as they enter and exit through my fingers, manifesting themselves on my blog.  This is a blog that has been difficult for me to write, in fact, as you will see by the sporadic time-frames that I post.  I generally write most when I have a lot on my mind, and I was asked by my mom years ago why I don’t just write in a journal and keep it to myself.  As if I was airing out dirty laundry.  But I think other writers, as myself, enjoy reading too and what better than finding a connection with what someone has to say?  I always dream that somehow, my stories can have an impact or maybe inspire someone-help them feel like they’re not alone and that life is still wonderful despite all the hardships we go through.  I still haven’t had the heart to write about some of my largest “mountains” (figuratively speaking)…but I will get there soon-it’s been almost enough time.

Hearts don’t heal completely-they are scarred and sometimes pain comes back in tiny splinters, reminding us of what we went through.  I had one of those experiences today.  I heard something on Pandora that brought memories flooding back of a time that I thought my heart was broken beyond repair. Now looking back I see this wasn’t to be my battle in life-as I’ve said before, it was a stepping stone.  I will never experience that exact pain again and I can say that with certainty, and it is what has brought me to New Mexico…following the little loves of my life.  I am happy about the choices I made back (after not during) that time as so much good came out of all that.  Remind me to tell my story of those events (the good parts anyway) soon!

Anyway, I am mainly writing this all to say that I am not perfect!  My story is still unfolding. My life can’t be labeled or titled because I have no idea what will come at me next.  I have been through some seemingly unreal things in my life and will likely go through more because that’s just what my life seems to hold (God I hope not though).  Like a said in a recent post, great things come from the will to not be average, everyday, ordinary-from needing to be challenged and not accepting the norm.  This is who I am…I am untitled, ever changing me.  To those who once tried to write a book about their experiences in raising me, I hope I have not let you down too much that you couldn’t ever “finish” that book with a happy ending…although it sure seems happy through my eyes.