Jan4

Where Am I? How Are Things? 

Posted on by
Standard

I’m not these things alone, but I can relate, across the board.

If you know me at all, you know the answer to the title’s questions are apt to change, sometimes about as predictably as the wind blows. I’m not joking. 

Many people comment on my faith, my strength, my love and passion for people, and for life. Daily, people mention these things. It is during the most broken of days that I hear it the most. When the pain seems unbearable, it is the love filled, encouraging words that make a tremendous difference. 

You know I love practical examples. This is no different. I often share that words matter. That they make a difference. I say that about hugs as well. This example will explain more.

Since my little girl died a year ago next month, I haven’t been the same. Some days, I feel like I might just survive, while on other days I feel so broken. Just shattered. I haven’t been very involved in my church, and I’ve been questioning my own faith, beliefs, and if I’m being honest – God Himself. 

On January 1st, I made the decision to go back to church. A new beginning, if you will. Deep inside, I knew I still had (and, for a long time, will likely have) some hard questions. Brokenness. Pain. But also healing. Love. And, I knew that surrounded by other people, being reminded of what love looks like – that’s what my heart longed for. 

A special encounter happened, but the significance – the other individual wasn’t really privy to. They knew enough, more than most. But, the difference was their being intentional. They asked how things are medically (that’s a separate update, for another day) and just all the way around. They shared love and compassion – and a willingness to just do life with me, to sit with me in my pain. At one point, there were simply no words. In response, a hug was offered. In lieu of words, hug are the best. Hugs can often speak the things our hearts can’t. This was that moment. 

But, what they had no way of knowing was a little more of the significance. See, I write more on this blog than is released publicly. Call it self preservation. Call it self care. Call it sanity saving. You could even call it fear. But, this is a blog post I wrote very recently. (In December, actually. I’ll go back and make it public after this post.)

Here is what I wrote: 

The title might be alarming. It should be. I cannot predict all the words that are about to flow, but I’m going to free write. If I think it, I’ll write it. So, here we go. 

Death is a heavy topic. Death doesn’t hold unlimited power. It doesn’t have the final word. It is the end of one life, and the beginning of another. 

But, the allure of death? How could something so heavy and somber have an allure? Let me explain. 

I do not fear death. If I’m being honest, I long for it some days. 

For those of you psychoanalyzing my words, please save yourself the trouble – and, don’t! I’ll save you the time. I’ll break down my thoughts in a way that don’t scare you. 

When I said I long for it some days, I’ll assure you – I have no plans to speed the process along. (I’m not suicidal.) But, I’ll say this. 

Never before have I wanted to not be living as much as I do now – but – on the flip side, never before have I wanted to live more than I do right now. I don’t want to die. I do, however, have moments where I wish I just didn’t exist. Sometimes this reality feels too much to bear. Sometimes, I feel too much. Sometimes, I don’t feel like I can go on another moment – let alone days, weeks, months or years. 

But, I can. 

And, I will. 

There are days I hurt. I feel pain so deeply, that my only response is tears. At any given time. For pretty much any reason. 

Let’s circle back around to the idea that death could possibly hold allure. See, as I mentioned previously, it is my belief that death isn’t the end. I believe in life after death – in Heaven or hell. I believe that when you die, you’re not eternally separated from those you love. I believe you will see those you love again in what many call the afterlife. 

My daughter died ten months ago, after a three year journey with brain cancer. The allure death holds is that I will get to see her (and lots of other people I miss) again. 

Stop the psychoanalysis!

If you are concerned or worried, I understand. But, because I know the deep pain associated with losing someone you love dearly, I wouldn’t do anything to remove myself from the equation either. I hurt deeply because I love deeply. Suicide isn’t okay. It isn’t fair. And it leaves ripples, and touches generations. So no, that option is off the table. 

I just don’t fear death anymore, and this all explains why. 

That encounter had nothing to do with that writing. However, God’s grace had everything to do with it. It was a moment in time that gave my heart a voice. It was a moment in time that served as a catalyst to helping rekindle not only my faith in people and church again, but also in the heart of God again. His heart took human form that day. 

It has taken the time from then until now (just a couple days) for me to process this, and recognize why there was such significance. The whole thing was an answer to prayer. 

Yesterday, I had several people ask how I was. And, I could honestly say that “I think I’m okay today” and I meant it. I smiled, realizing that I felt loved – by the God of all creation, and also people. Today, I feel like I actually had a good day. 

I feel like this is cause for celebration. I’m learning about the vital nature of self care, and of celebrating the little things in life too. Not only the giant, monumental things.  

So, with a guarded heart, I celebrate today. Guarded because I fear that the world may drop out from under me at any given moment, and the feeling okay right now will come crumbling down around me. But, I am making a choice in this moment to not borrow worry or “what ifs” from tomorrow. That only robs the joy from today. 

But, if it does – if the world drops from under my feet, I won’t be alone – and I know that. That makes all the difference. And, I am grateful. 

Jan1

No Empty Resolutions

Posted on by
Standard

That’s right. I’m not joining the masses and making some empty resolutions to kick this new year of right. I will thoughtfully look over my life and circumstances, and I will learn to live and breathe grace, make goals, follow dreams, and all those fun things. But, I will not make a bunch of hollow resolutions. I won’t. 

Here’s one thing I will do. 

Starting today, I am creating a special jar. Yes, a jar. But the contents of this jar will be priceless. 

This jar will be more than just a jar filled with useless words. This jar will be filled with dated memories. Happy thoughts. Grateful moments. Put simply, this jar will be filled with joy. 

Life is tremendously painful at times. Even during those seemingly insurmountable moments of anguish, there is ALWAYS something positive happening. Somewhere. Sometimes it takes playing hide and seek with hope. Sometimes it means opening your eyes and looking beyond the immediate. But, there are good things to be found and experienced. 

On some days, I may not put anything in the jar at all. And that’s okay. On other days, I may write several small notes. That’s okay too. There is only one “rule” I’ll try to stick with. Add the date written. 

At the end of the year, perhaps on New Years Eve, I’ll open the jar, read the little pieces of paper, and then I’ll take it one step further. I’ll use some sort of adhesive, and attach all the notes to pages of a blank book. That book will then be a tangible way to hold onto beautiful moments in a year. 

Here’s my jar. Actually, I made a beautiful graphic to print and tape to the jar, but well – the best laid plans of mice and men. My printer is confused, and thinks it’s top door is open (it’s not) and refuses to print. (If printer support is your thing, I welcome help. It would surely be more beneficial than throwing it against the wall! 

So, for now, here’s my makeshift not so decorated jar. (Yes, the middle graphic is Hello Kitty. Fireworks, to be exact. It made me smile.)

Will you join me in this adventure? I think it’s a neat way to focus on the happy, and not only the pain. It would be an honor to see your ideas, or any jars you create. My brain is going about a thousand directions. I have ideas. (Squirrel!?) I’ll update accordingly, when the time is right! 

Thank you for adventuring to my little corner of the internet. I enjoying sharing life with you. I’m looking forward to seeing how you choose to #RememberTheLove this year and always! 

Jan1

As 2016 Nears It’s End

Posted on by
Standard

good-bye2016-wallpapers

It is with bittersweet passion that I prepare to say goodbye to this year. This year that gave and took so much.

I used to remark about all the somewhat humorous (and generally choice) words I have for 2016 as a whole. But, as per usual, I recognized there are also immeasurably good things that added the sugar and spice, and all things nice to this year.

The main example I can share is one many of you (if you have followed this blog for any length of time) know is already know, or at least have heard about – my beautiful daughter Janet. At seven years old, she breathed her final breath this side of Heaven in February, 2016 after a three year battle with brain cancer.

Her life, though entirely too short for my liking, was a life, well lived. Though she died in 2016, she also LIVED. This year contains memories of her final breaths. This year affords beautiful memories of her significantly beautiful smile, her giggles, her passion for life, her squeezy hugs, her compassion, her grace, her love – her life well lived.

When 2017 arrives, the same will not be possible to say.  My daughter will not have been alive at any moment in this upcoming year, and that very thought further breaks my already shattered heart.

However, I choose to scroll up a bit, and recognize the absolute beauty that was her life. No year, 2017 or otherwise, maintains any amount of power that would enable it to steal that beauty, those memories, from me.

I will always #RememberTheLove and I encourage you to do the same.

If you are hurting during this season of your life – I say me too – then I encourage you to recognize that you are not alone. You do not need to do this life, or any journey of any magnitude alone.  You are worth is. Your life matters.  You are precious.

Though life hurts, it won’t always be this way. There is hope.  You are stronger than you believe. (At least that’s what I keep getting told!)  I urge you to reach out. Talk to someone. If you would like, I am available in the comments, or via my “contact me” page.  Please don’t hesitate.

Just, whatever you do, don’t give up.

Dec21

The Allure Of Death

Posted on by
Standard

The title might be alarming. It should be. I cannot predict all the words that are about to flow, but I’m going to free write. If I think it, I’ll write it. So, here we go. 

Death is a heavy topic. Death doesn’t hold unlimited power. It doesn’t have the final word. It is the end of one life, and the beginning of another. 

But, the allure of death? How could something so heavy and somber have an allure? Let me explain. 

I do not fear death. If I’m being honest, I long for it some days. 

For those of you psychoanalyzing my words, please save yourself the trouble – and, don’t! I’ll save you the time. I’ll break down my thoughts in a way that don’t scare you. 

When I said I long for it some days, I’ll assure you – I have no plans to speed the process along. (I’m not suicidal.) But, I’ll say this. 

Never before have I wanted to not be living as much as I do now – but – on the flip side, never before have I wanted to live more than I do right now. I don’t want to die. I do, however, have moments where I wish I just didn’t exist. Sometimes this reality feels too much to bear. Sometimes, I feel too much. Sometimes, I don’t feel like I can go on another moment – let alone days, weeks, months or years. 

But, I can. 

And, I will. 

There are days I hurt. I feel pain so deeply, that my only response is tears. At any given time. For pretty much any reason. 

Let’s circle back around to the idea that death could possibly hold allure. See, as I mentioned previously, it is my belief that death isn’t the end. I believe in life after death – in Heaven or hell. I believe that when you die, you’re not eternally separated from those you love. I believe you will see those you love again in what many call the afterlife. 

My daughter died ten months ago, after a three year journey with brain cancer. The allure death holds is that I will get to see her (and lots of other people I miss) again. 

Stop the psychoanalysis!

If you are concerned or worried, I understand. But, because I know the deep pain associated with losing someone you love dearly, I wouldn’t do anything to remove myself from the equation either. I hurt deeply because I love deeply. Suicide isn’t okay. It isn’t fair. And it leaves ripples, and touches generations. So no, that option is off the table. 

I just don’t fear death anymore, and this all explains why. 

Dec20

Finding Grace In A Tweet

Posted on by
Standard

Never underestimate the power of social media. Ever. Just don’t do it. Social media often wears the hat of a villain. Many consider it the downfall of modern society – a breakdown in communication. A place where people forget what “real” relationships are. 

I challenge that notion. It can be the polar opposite, on every level.  

Allow me the opportunity to talk a little bit about human connection, and the power of our words – and how a simple tweet can set events in motion that will allow two separate worlds to collide. 

If you know me at all, you may know that grace is a big deal. I live and breathe it, and want every human being alive to know grace, feel loved, and know their worth. 

Watch as this story plays out. 

First, let me tell you about my friend Aaron. He’s known as @CulturalSavage on Twitter, and shares his heart on his Cultural Savage blog. Aaron knows what it’s like to experience seemingly insurmountable odds, and feel deep pain. But, Aaron also knows about grace. I may write again another time about my friend, but for now, let me explain how his “simple” tweet changed the trajectory of my today (and potentially more).

Yesterday, he shared a tweet about grace. More specifically, he shared an opportunity to be a part of a book launch team. A new book about grace. In doing a little research, I connected with the author of this book, James Prescott, along with his Facebook community (made up of people from all walks of life, from all over the world) for his book launch. 

What I found was so much more. 

On a day like yesterday where I’ve felt pain, and cried a river – this encounter (all from a “simple” tweet) has made today new. I have a renewed sense of purpose and direction. 

Instead of allowing depressions talons to sink deeper, I find myself collaborating with other like minded people. I find excitement about future events, and passion surrounding this book launch. 

This book is launching on the exact day of the one year anniversary of my daughter taking her final breath this side of Heaven. She died one year before this book launches. That may seem sad. It is. It hurts. But, this is a way that I can see redemption and not only pain on that day. 

As that date approaches, I will share more information, more thoughts on grace, and I’ll continue to invite others to join me in helping James launch his book. His message is one I believe in, and am passionate about helping spread. 

Grace. I need it, you need it. That guy down the street that you go out of your way to avoid – he needs it too. Would you join me in an effort to help grace spread like wildfire? Click on this link, and find your spot in this grace filled community. You belong. 

If you are struggling this season, or through life in general, please know you aren’t alone. If you’d like to know more about this concept of grace, please feel free to reach out. I’m here. You can comment directly on this post, or your can use contact me link. I’ll look forward to connecting. If you do nothing else, at least recognize that your life matters, and that grace is for you too. You aren’t alone. 

Nov7

The Heart That Bleeds Gold

Posted on by
Standard

Driven To Make Change

Some people have ice cold hearts, while others are warm and inviting. And then there are those whose hearts bleed gold. It takes the age old saying that someone has a “heart of gold” to an entirely different level. 

If you are not aware, the universal color representing childhood cancer is gold. 

Today, I met a man named Ronnie. He started Driven To Make Change. Before a couple of days ago, I hadn’t known very much about Ronnie and his heart that bleeds gold. He is a compassionate person, who – yes, has a heart of gold. His goal and mission in life right now is to raise awareness for pediatric cancer . 

He’s driving across 48 states to learn all he can about all the  pediatric cancers (139, currently known) and also to raise awareness. His hope is multi faceted. Not only does he have vision to raise funds for fighting cancer and finding a cure – he also seeks to take that deeper and further. 

He wants to aid research into the why. Cause. Find out why or how (any environmental or otherwise) these cancers form. It is then that they become preventable. 

Preventable cancer!?

It sounds like a pipe dream – but, I’ll draw your attention to medical history – so did the cause and/or cure for polio and other similar diseases. Let’s band together and turn this pipe dream into hopeful reality. Don’t tell me it’s not possible. 

Why the passion? 

I’m glad you’ve asked. My daughter Janet (Praying For Little Janet) was diagnosed with a rare (literally one of a kind) brain tumor at age four. She courageously fought brain cancer for three years, and passed away February 13, 2016. She is my why. My passion. My love. There is a giant hole in my heart that only she could ever fill. 

She is not my only why . 

There are so many people – so many families whose lives are turned upside down, in an instant – with two (not so) simple words: childhood cancer. To hear the words “your child has cancer” or “your child has a brain tumor” are game changers. They will (and should) change perspective and priorities in a huge way. Life as you know it will NEVER be the same “normal” again. Life will change. Death may happen. And that part so royally sucks. 

They are now also my why. Every family who hears those words. I fight for my daughter, and I fight for all the families affected by pediatric cancers of all kinds. 

My daughter died. My hope and prayer is that no other family, ever, has to endure this painful kind of journey. 

Pipe dream? Not forever. WE have the power to change things. It will not happen overnight. But, it WILL happen. The key is, we must advocate for our children. They deserve so much more than the 3.8% of federal funding for pediatric cancer research currently alloted. 

Please join me, Ronnie, and all those with hearts that bleed gold, in raising awareness and funds for pediatric cancer research (not only for a cure – but also to be able to pinpoint cause, and thus prevent the cancer) and share hope with the world. 

#RememberTheLove

Oct17

A Movie, A Band, And A Necklace

Posted on by
Standard
A Movie, A Band, And A Necklace

October 16, 2016. This movie. This band. That necklace. Life changing. Life giving. Life saving.

Every time I try to convince words to take a journey from my brain to the paper, tears threaten to make seeing the words impossible. In an attempt to share even a fraction of the significance of this event, I will break down the event and all the moving parts into little bite-sized pieces. 

Priceless the Movie. 

I’m not going to tell a tall tale. I hadn’t  heard of this movie prior to this text from a very dear friend: 

you…me…Sunday evening ‘Priceless’ at Ronnie’s 20?

So, this being a friend who I love and trust, I basically blindly said yes. She knows me. She gets me. What’s more, though?  She allows me the honor returning the favor. I’m grateful. Alas, I accepted her invitation, and nearly canceled several times. But I didn’t. As this day approached, the excitement and even anticipation grew. 

It made me happy to learn that the band would be in the theater live, playing  a few songs for us. Their flight was a bit delayed, so the acoustic set was after the movie. 

So, this movie is incredible. This is part in fairly certain I can’t get through without my tears going on mass exodus. Again. So, instead, I’ll ask you to click on the following link, and watch the trailer for Priceless. 

I will say this though. This movie and it’s storyline broke my heart. Mostly because it’s no joke. People, this stuff happens. It’s real, and it’s in our backyards. Don’t get me wrong. I loved the movie, those that produced it, and all who came together to make it happen. It was tremendously well done. I found a surge of emotions at varied times throughout the entire thing. It was beautifully painful. It hurt, and it healed. Most of all, it was God’s heart in a movie. God’s hand holding my shattered heart. The fact that God can use a movie to touch some very deep and dark places is testament to the fact that the whole experience (more to come on that) acted as a healing salve applied to some wounded places. 

After the movie concluded, the band took the stage for a few minutes. They sang/played a handful of songs. Again, the heart of God, in human form, stood before us on that theater stage. The words of their songs grabbed my heart, and didn’t let go. I can’t begin to count the number of times I wiped tears from my eyes. At one point, Joel, from 4 King And Country, looked directly at me. He smiled as if to say, I see you. You matter. Your pain matters. In truth, he probably thought nothing of the sort, but in that moment – God’s grace, His love, just held me. 

At one point, they polled the audience to see if anyone was confused as to who they were, and why a band was live on stage in a movie theater. One person responded. They welcomed her, and asked us all to say hello. 

What happened next floored me. 

Joel picked up a necklace – the one you can see me wearing in the picture above. He spoke about its meaning and significance. The words “She’s worth fighting for” just melted my heart. As he spoke, he looked at me again and reached down and handed it to me. Yes, of course, tears streamed down my cheeks. 

I’m nothing special, but in that moment, God’s love and grace swallowed me whole. It was as if God Himself was giving me a much needed hug. Joel doesn’t know my story, but something (that small voice, like in the movie perhaps?) urged him to share it with me. To give me a gift. A necklace. 

It was more priceless than any gift could have been in that moment. You see, it showered me with God’s love. I felt important, and as if my life has meaning. God used that moment to hold me. To help me see glimpses beyond the pain. It helped me feel hope in tangible ways. It helped me just breathe, and know I’m loved.

I wanted to share this for a multitude of reasons.Mostly to share my own gratitude. To my friend for inviting me. To Joy FM for whatever part you played behind the scenes to help this event happen. To 4 King and Country for the hearts you had in creating this film, delivering it to the public, and the life-giving mini concerts you  allowed His heart and presence to touch others with. And especially to God, for not giving up on me, and for allowing your love to penetrate some shattered and somewhat dark places. Please don’t ever throw up your hands and realize I’m just too much. 

And to all reading, if you might be in pain, know that you are not alone. I do not have to walk your journey to understand that you hurt. I think we all do in some way, shape, or form. I see you, but more importantly, God also sees you – exactly where you are if I could say one more thing, it would just be to not give up. I want to see that your life has value and worth, and you still have purpose here. 
I needed these same reminders yesterday, and they flooded my heart with love and healing. If you need similar reminders, here they are. Someone, please just point me back to this page, and my own words when you see or feel the need.

Know that you’re not alone. It’s okay to not be okay, and it’s okay to reach out. Just don’t give up. There is still time for good things to happen. There is time for hope to surprise you. You are not out of time, and neither am I. If you’re hurting, just take my hand, and allow me to sit with you – even virtually – in this pain. It may be real, but it will not be forever. You will come to know more than the pain that tortures you. You matter. Your story matters. You’re worth so much more than you can comprehend. 

Please, keep giving hope a chance to surprise you. You are loved. 

Oct7

My Prayer For Radical Hope Church 

Posted on by
Audio

Dear God, 

You know my heart. For better, or for worse, I’ve prayed  that you’d give me your heart for people. Well, Lord, my heart is shattered. Feels crushed sometimes. As the God who has arms big and strong enough that hold the entire universe, I believe you understand my heartbreak –  perhaps better than I do myself. Our nation needs more hope. 

I come to you on behalf of my friends John and Joe –  whom I know that you know well, and I ask for your governing protection. This weekend will be the beginning of a new era in Birmingham. This weekend, I pray your hand lead and guide them as Radical Hope launches. 

Radical Hope. God, I know that is inspired directly by your heart. 

I pray that hope, radical hope, spreads like wildfire –  through your church, through their city, and that (through you) they have a footprint on our world, one unable to be ignored. 

May those who are hurting, hungry,and today thirsty come to know you through  this place. May they share messy grace and radical hope with all your children. 

May all human beings walking through their doors be able to connect with your love. May they know they are loved exactly where they are –  no strings attached. Gay or straight, pink or blue, God I know you’ll love them as the beautiful human beings they are. May they feel accepted and especially loved for who they are, where they are, and whomever they’re with. 

My prayer is that the churched and unchurched alike can come together and be. Just be. May the stereotypical view of Christians and the church be shattered as people find hope here. Lord, may your will be done. May humanity be touched by the willingness of this new body to speak and share your heart with a broken world. God, be with them this weekend as this new era of radical hope, messy grace and unconditional love is ushered into this city and beyond. Thank you for this and everything I’ve forgotten. I love you. 

Sep30

When The Beauty Is The Darkness

Posted on by
Standard
20160925_184152

The beauty, in this picture, is found in the dark places.

It is no secret that my life, sometimes, seems to be shrouded with darkness. Pick a place, look that direction, and you’ll see some form of lingering darkness. It is what happens during those dark moments – it is what we focus on – that makes or breaks the situation. Not all darkness, even if it shrouds the beauty, is a bad thing. This is the mindset I aim to challenge. Please, stay with me for a moment.

Let’s take the picture above. I left it completely untouched, and wanted to share just exactly as it came out of my camera. Yes, the photographer in me wants to fix it up.  But, the human being in me wants you to see the natural beauty. Take a peek again at the picture. What do you see? I see the trees. I also see a (not so blue, considering storming) sky. The whole thing is beautiful. But, what makes it beautiful? For me, it’s symbolic in a pretty neat way.

To me, the beauty is nature. The trees. But, in this specific picture is the stark difference between the light and the dark. The light wouldn’t be visible in the same way without the dark. But, the beauty truly is found in the dark parts of this photograph. The beauty is the darkness. The trees aren’t actual darkness. They are the perceived beauty that you see and feel when looking at this picture.

Isn’t that actually kinda indicative of life too? I have another example. I want to share the story of an incredible person.

This person is me. This person is you.  This person is the girl down the table that you look down on because she has less than you. This is the boy you choose to think is just fat and uncaring. This person is you. This person is me.

There is a person (the fictional person/people mentioned above) who has come to mean a great deal to me. This person struggles with the pain of life. This person sees life in terrifying shades of muted color much of the time. Anxiety dictates the greater portion of reality, while the noise of life dictates the rest. This person fails to see beauty in things. They look beyond the beauty to the mess. I’ll reiterate that the mess can sometimes (Okay, most ALL times) hurt and have it’s own pain attached, but without the mess, you can’t feel or understand the beauty the same way.

But, back to this aforementioned friend. This person sees pain and darkness – and, in all fairness, other people who see this person see that same pain because they wear their emotions freely. They allow the world to see them, and it frightens them. They allow the vulnerability of transparency because they don’t have the strength to do otherwise. The beautiful thing, though? This person is the very definition of beauty. (Said definition specifically: a beautiful or pleasing thing or person, in particular)  This person is surrounded by darkness, by fear and anxiety. But this same person uses that to reach out and offer life giving grace to others. This person allows their own pain to pierce through the darkness and shine the light of friendship and encouragement when desperately needed in other people. They never seem to be able to see their own beauty, but can find beauty in just about anything. They can have faith in other people. When the tables are turned, they struggle to see the same beauty looking back from the face in the mirror.

Why is this, you ask? If I had that answer, I’d be less like that person. But, that person is me. That person is you. That person is my best friend. That person is the kid down the table, or the overweight person considering suicide. That person is me. And that person is you. Deny it if you will. But, if you haven’t ever experienced this darkness, good on ya. Brace yourself. It may be coming. However, if you do have even the iota of a clue what I’m referring to – or if you have this person in your life, let me share a bit about that for a second.

Love them. Give them space. Surround them. Hold them when they can’t stand on their own. Let them know that when they fail in their own head, it doesn’t make them a failure at life. Let them know you care. Show them that you love them. How do you do this? Ask them how they’re feeling. Care about their reply, and don’t just take it at face value. Give a shit enough to actually care. To actually dig deeper when it’s warranted. You’ll know. Allow yourself to be vulnerable to show them they aren’t alone. Biggest thing though – when the tables are turned, allow the same into your life.  Give yourself the chance to soak in that same love and joy.

Back to beauty, though.

In many ways, beauty is perception. If you have a pristine condition – no mess. Nothing dirty…you do have beauty. However, if you have to clean up a mess – if you have broken pieces to put back together, or if you have to make the situation pristine (again?) — I can guarantee with nearly 100% accuracy that you will appreciate and not take for granted the beauty…or the darkness you had to walk through to get there.

I guess the point that I’m recognizing is the desperate (vital) need to see the beauty in the darkness. Even taking that a step further, seeing the darkness AS the beauty.  Look back at the picture. To me, the darkness creates the picture. Beauty is derived from the dark places. Just keep that in the back of your mind. Recognize that the very things that make your situation dark, will be very thing others may draw strength from, and see as a thing of true beauty.  Instead of crumbling under the weight of the darkness, I urge you to allow that to be a stumbling block transformed into a stepping stone, a catalyst to see life and your surroundings differently.

Does that erase the pain of and from inside the dark places? No. Not so much. Does it make it bearable? It does. It is about finding beautiful things when nothing else is beautiful.  It’s about seeing and allowing joy to break through the darkness and create happy in the midst anyway. It allows joy.  It is a catalyst to propel you away from the pain of the dark, and into the arms of the beauty that coexists in it.

Allow the warmth to hold you.  Allow love to BE you. That’s another post upcoming. Love. So much of life is missed because we can’t figure out how to love.  Stay tuned…

Sep8

When A Rape Turned Home Invasion Saved My Life (Guest Post) 

Posted on by
Standard

This is an anonymous guest post. This is a guest post, and very few details have been altered – only to ensure her anonymity, protection and continued safety and freedom. 

Rape. Take a closer look at this picture. A mere 10 days after rape, you’ll see a positive pregnancy test, a crying eye, and embryonic growth and yolk sac. This picture shows that.

I cannot cope with reality. Plain and simple. It’s no secret that my significant other and I aren’t close these days. No one can tell me this excuses rape. 

Our lack of intimacy does not afford him the freedom of violently taking what was not, and never will be again, his. If you don’t think rape can happen inside a relationship, established home, marriage, etc, then you are part of the problem. 

As I lay on the cold, wooden floor, I could still feel the burn of being restrains. As I lay there, begging for escape somehow – asking God to allow me to perish, mysuddenly terrified daughter walked in the door. 

Without hesitation, she ran to me. Fiercely protective, this one. After a long talk, and at the request of a friend, 911 was called. Trembling and afraid, I opened the door. 

Compassion. 

Some of those exact moments remain a blur. And I’m not complaining. But I recall completely losing my shit at the ability to feel safe. Someone was there. For me. But not to hurt me. They offered no judgment, only compassion. 

Even if I wanted to turn very small and scurry away, I couldn’t have. Even if I didn’t press charges, my body forced the “this is getting investigated” scenario. Am ambulance was summoned, as I nearly passed out. From my cold, wooden floor to a cold hospital gurney, I became important enough to listen to. Important enough to fix. 

I did survive, but in those moments, living was not a desire. Yes, I wanted to die. 

Eventually, with my personal effects placed nicely in the newly crumpled brown super market bag,  I went back home. Home. It wasn’t a safe place anymore. I ached to not exist. 

As a routine follow up, I had wounds checked, blood and urine tested, and was then sent on my merry way. It was not until the following day, that I got a phone call that rocked my world.

My doctor needed me to come in (ironically on Labor Day) so he could further break my heart. It was one of the moments where it was hard to not kill the messenger. 

Your testing is back. (no dip!) I have some complicated news. You have hcg levels consistent with early pregnancy. (no amount of doctor speak could have lessened the new reality about to kick me in the stomach and steal the breath from my lungs. 

How did I respond to the news that I’m now a human incubator? Like a monster. I felt less than human. Broken beyond repair. I am carrying within my body, the product of rape. I fell apart. Crumbled into pieces. 

As I sat, now in a little ball – think crying in the fetal position, I could only think of how violently this little growing life had invaded mine. 

While I cannot fathom bringing a child into this world, I can comprehend, even less, taking his or her life. I will not stop a beating heart. But i also see myself as the world’s biggest asshole for not wanting this little growing life. 

The very next day, I was asked to come for imaging. Every other time I’ve seen a prenatal ultrasound, it invoked excitement. (and I have seen hundreds in my line of work.) But seeing my own, it terrified me. 

How then does this whole thing having happened play a part in saving my life? Simple. As much as I don’t want to be a human incubator under these circumstances, I do want give this child a fighting chance. I cannot die because someone, literally, relies on me to live. 

Yes, I do have family and friends. I remain alive for them because I know I’m needed or wanted, but this – this is different. 

Yes I’m terrified of this future, but strangely at a peaceful place where a trusted friend reminded me that beauty can and will somehow come from this. I can’t believe her right now, but I’ll borrow faith, and  the outstretched hand of others – that hand which will help me stand when I can’t even feel the solid ground beneath my feet.