Brody

This little blue-eyed cutie is my nephew, Brody. He was born three months before I moved away to college, so I missed his baby months. He will be two years old in June and I love him more than anything. We've bonded since I moved back and I'm glad I get to be close with him.

 He really likes playing with his red ball and climbing on my dad's tractor. 

And when I ask him where his nose is, he wrinkles it and sniffs. 

I think he's pretty cute.

Take me there.

Headlights pass through the darkness. Rain drops are clinging to the window screen, barely visible through the fogged glass in front of me. The warmth of the room contrasts with the cold outside and the heat of my coffee cup. There is a shining wooden counter top, like a wide window ledge, that is reflecting yellow light from lamps all around. Music plays and sets the mood. The genre is quiet and the volume is turned up for all to hear. The last page of a book releases me from the reality I had been experiencing and I look around for the first time in a while.
The room is furnished with tables and chairs, couches and end tables, rugs, and a row of stools in front of the counter where I am sitting. Works of art hang on the walls in the form of photographs, written words, and paintings. Girls wearing rain boots and sweaters walk in from the adjoining bookstore and I stand up to return my volume to its shelf.
There is a wide selection here that would be overwhelming if these were anything but books, but all I feel is a quiet joy for all the possibilities. The elderly man at the register says hello to me with a smile and I wonder about his story. Age is beautiful if one accepts it gracefully, and he has. This place is his and has been for years. The building is old and many of the books are, too, but there is no shortage of customers. Most of his money is made from the coffee shop, where people take his books to read and then return them. Occasionally someone will find one they want to purchase, but that isn't how the usual system works. All of the regulars expect to find their favorites still on the shelf when they come back. I know that mine always are.
As I walk back with a new adventure in my hand, I anticipate where it will take me. Eventually my feet will take me out of the door and into the rain, but I can avoid that thought for now. Until then, there is warmth and coffee and art and people and a story waiting to be discovered.

Let there be light.

May I please live in a dream? I once forgot the importance of everything that wasn't tangible and solid because there was nothing else that could be depended upon inside my head. I took a pill to try to fix my insanity, but it didn't work and now I remember that I will never want to live in the real world.

The places where my mind wants to be are not the places I have been forcing it to go. I do not belong in a world of numbers and facts, but in the world of imagination, music, and writing, where happiness is bigger than worry. I want to take bubble baths and eat chocolate and talk about everything that comes to my mind. I want to hold a baby, comfort her to sleep, and be amazed by her wrinkled, beautiful, tiny, perfect face. I want to run with a big, energetic dog, to wrestle in a field and ignore the scratches that he unknowingly gives me in his enthusiasm to play. I want to nurse an orphaned calf into health, learn from a child how to love, and stop being afraid of all the things that try to haunt me.

I just want someone to get into my mind and pull out everything I can't express. Somewhere inside, I hide so much, even from myself. There is anger, pain, and fear buried within me that I am unable to exhume alone, and those are things I don't want to face.

(Taken from herewecollide.tumblr.com)

Not all of my mind is darkness, though. There are hope and joy and creativity somewhere, too.  There is truth among the twisted thoughts. There are orchids among the weeds. There is love to share if I can just break through the fear that blinds me. I sometimes focus on the darkness so much that I forget there is light in me, too. I am not lost. I am not dead. I am not without hope. 

I am tired, but I am not defeated yet. Not everything must be resolved for me to have peace. Not everything must be perfect for me to be content. Anxiety doesn't have to make my life stop and my grades suffer, because I have power that I sometimes forget. There is strength I do not know I have. There is a God who provides for me.There are people, there is music, there is sunshine. There are fountains and flowers and coloring books and nonsense. There are things I have to face, but I don't have to face them alone and I don't have to be so afraid. When the light shines on my fears, I realize that what looked like monsters in my closet were just pretty dresses wreathed in shadows. The light heals wounds with the truth, and there is light within me.

Sometimes, good things fall apart so better things can fall into place.

"She and I met back in the winter of 2009 at a party, and from there we hit it off. Looking back, we both could say we left behind who we were, but we never left behind one another. Even though we had very little time together, it felt amazing; I never knew I had missed her that much until I had her there with me.

Friends will come and go. It's our job as individuals to find those we can't live without, tell them how much they mean to us, and then never let them out of our lives. Without her, I dunno where I'd be. Honestly, I'm not thinking about that reality."

It's funny how I thought he meant the words he wrote about me. Looking back, I think he meant them as something more than I thought he did, and when he gave up on me, he shut me out for good.

It's funny how he could love someone for five years, help them through some of their hardest times, and then change his mind about them because of someone else's negative opinion and hurtful words.

It's funny how every time I walk by someone who smells like him, I remember so clearly when he started wearing that cologne and I complimented him every time he wore it. That was over two years ago now.

It's funny how I never even wanted anything more than friendship with him, yet he could still hurt me like this. I guess there are many forms of vulnerability and there is more than one part of my heart that should be guarded.

It's funny how my past is gone, even though I tried to cling to it with all my strength. It has been cut off, and I'm finally letting go and moving on. I'm letting go of all the people I never could give up before. It seems like I needed them to cut me off so that I could become attached to other, better people that God provides.

Friends will come and go, but no matter how much we think we can't live without someone, it's always possible. Sometimes it feels like they took part of us when they left, but we will adjust and our hearts will heal. If a person believes the words of someone else when you entrusted them with the truth, you need to find better friends, ones who actually love you. Friendship isn't about nice words, although that is one aspect of it, but it is about acceptance, commitment, and trust. I loved that boy, and I trusted him because he had given me so many reasons to in the past. What a shame that he didn't deserve it in the end. I am only thankful that I can still trust other people and the consequences of his actions don't carry over into my current relationships. This has only made me free to let other people in, to support other people and love them. In the end, I am thankful for this. In the end, I understand that friends come and go. We needed each other at one time, but that time is gone and it's okay. I'm okay.

June can't come soon enough.

There is so much to be thankful for, sometimes it's overwhelming. Life's valleys and hills can be surprisingly close together, and today is a very high hill. My sister is having a baby BOY! It's easy to get caught up in the fact that she's sick and the stress that goes along with that, but there will be a baby in her arms after this pregnancy. That's something to look forward to. There's no way to describe how much I love my niece and nephews. The better I know them, the more my love grows and it's unconditional and overwhelming. It's something I didn't know was possible until I met Olivia for the first time, 9 days before my 17th birthday. She was the most perfect, wonderful thing I had ever seen and she changed me. People say I'll love my own children even more someday, but I'm convinced that isn't possible. It may be a different kind of love, but not greater. Olivia and Brody might be the biggest blessings in my life so far, and now there is another boy on the way. It's impossible to realistically imagine someone before you meet them, but I already know a few things about this baby. He will be perfect and precious and loved, just like his sister and cousin are. In June, I will get to hold him for the first time and the thought almost makes me cry with excitement. I love this baby boy. God is so good.

New.

I said, "My whole past is gone. And it's something I try to hold onto so tightly because it's the only thing that's certain, you know?" He said, "No. The only things certain are change and God's love."

He's always been good at telling me what I need to hear. There are certain moments in which I can't accept reality, and that was one of them. A close friend of nearly 5 years had just told me that he didn't want me in his life anymore. He had been persuaded against me and I was hurt by everyone involved. It takes a lot to get to me, but that did the trick. I was not okay.
This is where Jared brings me back around. We have quite a story of our own. God brings people together with the most perfect timing and it amazes me whenever I look back on my life. Jared was my first real best friend, the first person who tried and succeeded in really getting to know me. That was several years ago now and he moved from living 6 hours away from me to across the ocean. We faded apart, then went over a year without talking and when we began again, it was forced and awkward so we gave up. We saw each other while he was in the U.S. for a few weeks, then went back to our silence.
He started a conversation as I was having a breakdown and told me exactly what I needed to hear. I was crying and he made me laugh and reminded me that change is certain and God's love is certain but God's love doesn't change. It was so encouraging at exactly the right time. Even though we aren't close anymore, he let me know he cares and that means a lot.
It's just so nice to know that I do have real friends. There are old friends who still love me. I have new friends who are genuine and a heart that somehow is able to trust again, even though I fear the pain of rejection. For a long time I was unable to trust anyone new, but I'm becoming myself again. I'm remembering what it's like to learn someone and love them. An ending is a new beginning and a new beginning is a blessing. My life is looking up.

Passenger Seat

It's been almost a month since my last post. During that month, so much has changed. Christmas break ended, I've made new friends at school and come to terms with losing some old friends. I've come to terms with the fact that people change. Nearly all things change, but life goes on. It seems that as I get older, life speeds up and the changes that happen accelerate as well. I've never been very good at adjusting to change, but I'm trying to live in the present, accepting life as God gives it to me. In all honesty, there is very little I can control and it's becoming easier to accept that. My life is not in my own hands and my responsibility is to be grateful for what I have as I ride along in the passenger's seat. God is giving me peace.

"I roll the window down

And then begin to breathe in
The darkest country road
And the strong scent of evergreen
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

Then looking upwards
I strain my eyes and try
To tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

'Do they collide?'

I ask, and you smile.
With my feet on the dash,
The world doesn't matter.

'When you feel embarrassed then I'll be your pride.
When you need directions then I'll be the guide
For all time.
For all time. '"
-Death Cab For Cutie

The most effective teacher.

Pain gives us strength of character; it gives us a soul. Digging deep into who we are, it shapes us. It brings us down to a place where all seems worthless; but if we know where to look, God builds us up on Himself. He is the only strong foundation. The pain is a tool, a cleansing, a new beginning. It is a state of being that deepens our souls and gives us wisdom if we allow it to. We can become its students, always seeking what lessons can be retained in its teaching. And if we trust, it will pass.
"Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you."- 1Peter 5:6-7. Whether we humble ourselves or are humbled by our circumstances, as long as we accept our humility, God will lift us up. He cares for us and will take our anxieties if we let him. If, in the end, we are closer to God as a result of our pain, it will be worth it. So let's learn from it.

If God brings you to it...

I can't explain how much chemistry doesn't make sense to me. I started this semester in college level chem even though I didn't take it in high school. Dropping to intermediate is a decision I don't think I will ever regret, because even that is a struggle for me and I would probably not have passed college level. I am one semester into school and I'm doubting why I made the decision to major in a science, but I remind myself daily. This is what God has called me to do.
It isn't for me to know why; it's my place to trust. God has a plan that I've known a small piece of since I was sixteen. I am supposed to be a veterinarian and I am on the way to that end. It wasn't my idea, because I know I can't do it on my own. I'm not scientifically minded, and I believe that one reason God wants me to go through with this is for his glory. I believe that if I can get through this, it will not be by my own strength or intelligence, because I don't have that much. He will have pulled me through. God has promised that all things work together for good for those who love him, for those who are called according to his purpose. I have been called and my part is to follow. Whether I finish this or not, I've started; the rest is up to him.

"Just for today: I will make plans, but I will not plan the result & I will trust in my Higher Power's loving care."- Basic Text p.88

Your love is a melody.

Your Love Is A Song.

How is it that music can change emotions in a moment? It comforts, it reminds, it saves lives. It can bring a sense of nostalgia, sadness, happiness, love, peace, and so many other things; maybe all of those things combined at times. Music heals and hurts. The notes can open an old scar, the lyrics set a broken heart so that it can really heal. Pain and healing and joy are all tied up in the language of music, the language that emotions naturally understand.
Sometimes I wonder if I would be fulfilled if my mind could speak that language as well as it understands it. Sometimes I get jealous of people like Stephen Christian, Jon Foreman, and Elton John, who write some of the most deeply touching music I've heard. What would it be like to express what I feel in such a thorough, understandable way? I can only imagine, but listening to the things others have written still makes me feel understood because it resonates with me.
I can't write music, so I write words. Trying to explain a balance of fulfillment and emptiness in this way makes me feel ineffective and clumsy, but it's better than nothing. Language is a gift as well as music, because without it there would be no lyrics. Words are sometimes a part of this language, and words are something I know how to use.
God knows everyone needs to be honest. He tells us to walk in the light. He tells us that the truth will set us free. The truth is that sometimes I feel like I'm locked inside my own head even in a crowd of people. My thoughts are constantly churning with no outlet because I don't have enough words. I will never have enough words. I crave to be understood, so I go to meetings and I listen to music. These are the things that keep me going. These are the things God provides, and his Spirit guides me to the promises he's made.

Hebrews 4:15-16 (ESV) "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."

1 Peter 5:6-7 (ESV) "Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you."

Isaiah 26:3 (ESV) "You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you."

Keep Coming Back

"Keep coming back. It works if you work it."
I didn't realize how much I had missed those words until they were spoken this past Monday night. My best friend took me to a recovery meeting. It was the first one I had been to since I was home for Thanksgiving break, and that was the only one I've been to since school started in August.
"Keep coming back..."
I don't want to live without a support group. As wonderful as my friends are, as wonderful as my school is, there's nothing that compares. It hit me that I love my family so much now because of our mutual understanding of our past. I have a friend who struggles with depression; we share a common knowledge of that one area. Another friend has been in my life since I was born; she knows me almost as well as anyone does. They are wonderful, but we don't fully understand each other. I can't relate to them because I've never been through anything similar to their lives, and they can't relate to my life, either.
"It works if you work it."
Daily recovery readings are not enough. People need each other. People need other souls who understand them on a deeper level. There is no one who understands addiction and codependency like someone who is and/or has lived with an addict. A friend can try to understand, but it will never quite get through to them. Good friends might be enough until someone really understands you, but the support group is a healthy addiction that replaces unhealthy ones. It's a way to learn to rely on a Higher Power, to live one day at a time and take responsibility for ourselves. There is no way I can express how much I need that in my life and how grateful I am.

God, grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference;
Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace.
Taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world
As it is, not as I would have it,
Trusting that You will make all things right
If I surrender to Your will
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life
And supremely happy with You
Forever in the next.
Amen.
- Reinhold Niebuhr

You know what they say.. and I'm pretty cliche.

Time really is on my side. My whole life I've been waiting for things; I wait for Christmas because it's my favorite time of year. I wait for spring because I get tired of winter. I wait out panic attacks and depression, riding out the storm because I know that it will always pass. I wait for life on this earth to end, and I wait for the next when everything that's worth waiting for will finally be here. Sometimes I just have to remind myself what really is important. Love is important, because it's the only thing that lasts. God and people will be forever, but earthly problems will not. Career problems, school problems, sickness, and heartbreak will go away. The things I idolize will burn and the only things that are truly worth having will be left. I have to remind myself that the good and the bad in this life are temporary. I have to remind myself that this, too, shall pass.

Moving On. (Getting all this off my chest)

Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt; the text that says “Who is this?” takes me by surprise and I don’t know what to think.

I guess it’s time to let go. It took me two years to break though and get close to him, not knowing that he was trying to do the same with me all along. Two long years, two untrusting people trying to win each other over, yet not really knowing that person they thought they wanted so much.  We became best friends; he’d talk me through my late-night panic attacks, I’d listen to him vent about his parents. We supported each other. We talked about everything that came into our minds and never got bored with each other.
The spring semester of my senior year came around, and with it came a fear of taking my time for granted. I wanted to appreciate everything in my life as I knew it, all the best things I would miss. He was at the top of the list and I resolved that I would never leave him behind, no matter what or who else would lay forgotten in my past. When I realized how much I cared and needed him, I finally stopped telling myself I didn’t want him as more than a best friend. I knew him so well, trusted him so much, and desperately hoped he felt the same. But in some ways he was still a mystery.
I’ve never been one to pursue a relationship with anyone, but I tried to subtly let him know how I felt. I wanted him to know even if he didn’t think of me the same way. I wanted to give it a try, because I knew that I would rather risk losing his friendship than remain just friends.
Our conversations took on new warmth, full of inside jokes and double entendres. He told me what “double entendre” means. He would say things that I didn’t know how to take because I knew how much I wanted him to mean them as more. I wanted it so badly that I was overly cautious. I didn’t let myself read into his words. Everything he said made my heart race.
One night in April, he started to tell me a story. It began with his childhood, the bad experiences of his early schooling. He told me about the steps that led his family to join my co-op, even though they lived two hours away from where we met. He told me about becoming friends with my cousin and best friend who were on his basketball team. He told me about his impression seeing me for the first time, the time after that, and the time after that. He told me that he knew, from the time we got to know each other as friends, that he intended to make us more if he could.
We were so happy. I couldn’t sleep that night. The way I felt about him was unlike anything I had felt in years.
The next month, I graduated from high school. I went to Kentucky to meet an online friend in person for the first time. I got my nose pierced. I missed him. I got back home and he took me on a date. I was nervous. We talked the way we always did, joked around, and made fun of the restaurant’s radio station. I couldn’t wait to see him again. June went by and we became open books to one another rather than mysteries. He said he fell in love with me, and I was afraid because I was beginning to realize he would get hurt.
I went to MAP in July. I spent a week in Kentucky, a week in Little rock, and two weeks in Louisiana. His mom found out about us and grounded him for three weeks. I had panic attacks because I was so dependent on him. It had probably been a year since I had gone even one week without talking to him. His mom talked to me like I was a child and asked me more questions than I would have been willing to put up with for anyone but him. Even so, being so far away and going so long without him made me want to distract myself. I was around other people and got other attention. My feelings started to fade.
We talked for one more week after he was grounded, then I realized it was time to let him know. I had thought everything would be the same after that, but I didn’t want them to be. I didn’t want to belong to him. I didn’t want to be tied down, to have a boyfriend two hours away when I went to college. Commitment was something I knew I couldn’t handle, even though I still felt strongly for him. He cried on the phone and asked if we could ever be more than friends again. I told him I couldn’t make any promises and not to plan on it. If it was supposed to happen later, it would, but I couldn’t commit.
During my first three weeks of college, I called him almost every day, telling him everything. I talked to him more than I talked to my family. He was still my best friend.
Somewhere along the line, we stopped talking and I didn’t notice. I somehow forgot he existed for a while. I visited home and spent time with a guy who I had liked three years before and began to like again. Thanksgiving break came around and I sent him a text to wish him a happy Thanksgiving and got no response. Suddenly I woke up to the fact that we hadn’t talked in weeks and that I didn’t even care. I didn’t miss him, I didn’t want him, and I felt guilty for that because I thought we had cared so much about each other.
I still feel guilty. Last night I sent him another text, and the response I got was “Who is this?” He has removed me from his life. My cousin knows more about his decisions than I do and I never thought we would be where we are. I can’t explain the remorse I feel because I know I hurt him. I know him too well; I know how he felt about me. He let me in after I took two years to earn his trust, only to be crushed because I apparently can’t be trusted. I meant everything I ever said to him. I believed every word. I never intended to leave him behind, and I apologized for that. I’ve done what I can do, and trying to mend our friendship would only cause more pain. My amends will be to let him go. I hope he can forgive me.
It’s time to let him go.