Chapter 11:11

“Sorrow may close the chapter, but the story will end with laughter.”  I hate Change. I hate when pieces of my childhood have to become memories and pictures instead of a place to call home. These seasons of change are like the in between, November and March. Rather ugly and slightly messy with a chance of mud. Change is letting go of what you willed to stay the same. Letting go of what you took for granted would never change. Maybe change is as simple as saying goodbye to the cabin, woods, and pine trees you’ve known for 18 years. Maybe it’s as complicated as getting used to living life without someone you loved. Maybe it’s as hard as realizing everything you are, or thought you were, has amounted to exactly a cup full of bitter ashes. And you’re left standing there. Sunlight streaming through the soft green needles. Asking “Why, God?”   This Christmas, I realized in a new way, the reason we shrink from things becoming different. The reason we stare into the sky a...

It started with a dream. A dream I had three years ago. I remember that dream like it was last night. But I’ve always avoided it. Until today. This moment. Right now. What you do in the here and now, that is what counts. That is what matters. It’s the seeds you sow today that determine tomorrow. It’s the fear you face today that brings healing tomorrow.  In my dream, I was dressed in white. I remember the details of that dress better than I remember the details of what I had for lunch. I remember how happy I was. I remember how healed I felt. How peaceful I felt. I felt like I was made whole, like I had never been hurt or used. I remember how loved I felt in my dream. It was like I had finally reached a place of perfect peace, in my Heavenly Father’s arms. I remember that I was with my dad, and we were healed. Our relationship I mean. I remember how protected and safe I felt. Back when I was 15, this left a very deep impression on me. I remember crying for hours, asking G...

When God asks you to move on, how do you go on?   It became Home. It's always been very close to my favourite place on earth. This summer, in spite of the chaos and heartbreak and loneliness, it really became home. I learned to thrive in the quiet laid back pines of Northern Michigan. Here there were no distractions. Life was much more black and white watching sunset after sunset on the quiet porch of my grandparents farm house. Breathing in that pure air, one could really think. There were afternoons where I lay out in the warm grass and read a book. I worked hard, I did, and customers were not always that fun to serve. Sometimes, when no one was looking, I was bad and didn't put sugar in the Veggie Salad. But here, the hillbillies all knew each other. We were a small town community all a little bit worn by life, and all trying to live our best lives here among the lakes. People's best lives looked very different from person to person, but it was the same in a way....

I have no excuses for not writing sooner, except for the fact that I'm so busy these days I don't even have time to sleep all night. That being put aside, I've been thinking on high for the past several weeks, about something you all asked me write about. And to be honest, I've been procrastinating because I don't have answers. Only questions. This will become more of a series I think, because it is impossible to put it all into one post.  This is just the raw truth, I don't know what to do about this epidemic that seems to be sweeping all over the world. The loneliness inside you. Inside me. Where does it come from? Why do I feel so alone when I have many friends and people around me all the time? Is this my fault? Am I trying to find my security in people instead of in Christ? Why are we living our own secret lives, and no one, not even our "close" friends, know the real stuff that goes on inside? These are all questions you have asked me, and ques...

Well, I'm 18 now. Do I look 18, act 18, think 18, or realize that I am now a legal adult that needs to act like one? Um, no. How are adults even supposed to act? Has anyone figured that out yet? I was petrified of this birthday. No honestly, I spent the last night of my 17th year crying my eyes out on the bathroom floor because I was so scared of actually being 18. Its just a birthday, you say. You're right. It is. And age is just a number. I am by no means old now. But I was crying because as a little girl I always had a picture in my mind of what I would be when I turned 18. Who I would be. What I would be doing. It was who I would be in the future. And suddenly, the future was now, and I was so very far from the girl I had hoped to be.  It was all very startling, confusing, devastating, and scary. What had I been doing with my life all these years? Why was I not where I thought I needed to be? What happened? So I cried, and asked God why. And, then like most times, the ...

...Her deep raspy voice cackled out through the smoky haze as I left the room. I smiled to myself and walked out to my car. Her beloved gardens were once again weed free, and her little porcelain figures all polished and perched in the red mulch.  I had heard the latest of her family drama, had an argument about smoking,  heard the latest on her aches and pains, and why it was the doctors fault she was a quadriplegic,  and I had been well fed and watered. It was the same every time.  Summer time was our favorite. We spent hours together in her gardens, trimming,  weeding, hoeing, and raking. We planted and transplanted flowers and shrubs, and she taught me all kinds of tricks to her trade. I did all the work. She sat in her wheelchair sassing the nurses and telling me of the days before she was paralyzed. That women was capable of getting what  ever she wanted. When Lenore spoke you did exactly what she said. No questions asked. But in all...

Yes, I took a break from writing. Life has a way of utterly exhausting you sometimes. It's been a struggle with my health, family and other social stresses, school, lack of tacos, and lots of other things that seemed to pile and pile. Now that those few horrendous months have past, and the dust from the piles have settled, I'm looking back in awe of the damage. Of what used to be my life. Of who I thought I was and what I though I was Capable of doing. It's all gone now. All that's left is a timeline of God's Grace and miracle after miracle. Learning ad growing and trusting and living and dying. It's a timeline. It's a painting. It's a story. It hurts. It tears up everything you ever knew. But its that thing of life that we just need to learn. Gods ways are best. Every single time.  I'll leave it at that. Blessings

What a Wonderful   Broken World.  Honestly though. I sat there, the gym was completely quiet except for the steady hum of the static coming from the speakers. The projector was all set up, and shining a picture of a lighthouse by water onto the wall. The blue mats were spread out on the floor. Soon the children would come. Mali, with her bright pink leggings and a new dance move. There would be David, all his walls, hundreds of feet up, acting like Mr. Tough Guy and he is only twelve. My little Sara who is always dirty and smells like smoke, but can never listen because "we never have food in the house and I'm so hungry." I sat there and I wanted to cry. What do I have to give these precious souls? All I have is a few hours every other Sunday, and most of them are too distracted by hunger or pain to really know if you made a difference. But I go. I go because maybe, just maybe, when I hug her anyway, even if I smell like smoke the rest of the day. Maybe, if I play bas...

So, my friends. We are back, with a blog post inspired by my adorable little reindeer slippers with blinky noses pictured above. I did my daily thing, which consists of running around outside barefoot till I can no longer feel my feet, then madly stampeding for the house and hoping up and down and hating myself till my toes are once again bendable. OK, its not that bad, and its good for your health so why not? (And since the ornery January Thaw made it's appearance, running around in what little snow is left really isn't a feet anyway.) (Yes I see what I did there.) Here's a story of how the little deer's taught me a lesson on faith. Nope, life just isn't easy. And, although optimist's like me like to think a smile and a little bit of chocolate will make everything right again, sadly the world's problems just aren't that simple. But then again, I also complicate things by looking to the wrong things to solve my problems. Like a smile and chocolate f...

To the person feeling like all is lost. To the one feeling trapped in a life of sin and despair. To the girl struggling to find her meaning in life. To the father who feels like a failure. To the preacher who feels like he will never succeed. To the business owner who uses work to drown out the pain. To the child who is never understood. To the boy who is hiding hell under a bluff. To the person lost in a world of chaos. To the lonely. To the hurt. To the one who feels like there is no hope. To the one who wants to live a better life and doesn't know how. To everyone, everywhere, in any circumstance or situation. This is a call to drop what ever your doing, stop fighting to make life work. Stop trying to fix it. Mend broken dreams. Heal your broken heart. Stop trying to do it all on your own. You are wearing yourself out for no reason. I know it seems strange and a little unbelievable, and maybe you don't believe this at all... But there is a God in heaven. ...