Stained

Stains are stupid. 

You never get a stain on that dumb shirt you hate. You never get a stain on the ugly "laundry day" pants. You will always get a stain on your favorite clothing. In my case this happens all the time. It's mostly coffee. I can be super careful and then look down and see my Momma's spaghetti sauce in tiny dots all over my white dress. It never fails. Guys, for the most part could not care less about a stain. Girls on the other hand will see the stain and go crazy making a tiny dot a 2 foot spectacle. We as girls, though, do a really good job of accessorizing so that the outfit is not a total loss. This is something I have become quite a pro at. 

     A year ago today my life completely changed. Everything I had ever dreamed of holding in my hands came to be on a deck with a glass of wine. It was the best day of my life. I have asked the question before "If you knew then what you know now would you have done things differently?" A year later my answer still stands to be yes. I would have run so far, so hard in the other direction. 

     This morning during church the pastor was speaking on God's will. He was discussing men of the Bible who faced and endured the craziest of circumstances and received God's favor throughout and were blessed by His Hand. He said something that struck me. I was already writing this blog when I heard him speak this morning. He said "do you think these guys would've gone along with the plan if God had laid out every detail beforehand?" Of course not. It wouldn't make sense. 

     So back to my earlier statement, had I known then what I know now I would've run. 

     I know that God has a plan and I know that He knows more than I can see or understand. I get that part. It's not God that I am struggling with. I have struggled in life before and I can look back at even the most minuscule of drama and see the positive or be able to say "well if that didn't happen this would not have come out of it" So here I am a year later trying so very hard to see the reason for any of it. I am at a loss. 
     I am the same girl I was only broken and shades of what I used to be. For what reason? It wasn't necessary. I was fine. I have not learned any new lessons. Although, what I already thought about my life had been confirmed. I am not any smarter or wiser. If anything I am more jaded and closed off. 
     
     It sounds like I am sitting in a huge pool of sadness and self deprecation but I am not. In fact, the last 2 weeks feel like a cloud has been lifted. I've been put in my place and I  know where I stand. It was never real and it took me a year to figure that out. I am just baffled at the way humans treat each other. I could not imagine putting someone through this. No matter what I was faced with. Moving on into the future I could never take this experience and make someone else pay for it. It doesn't make sense. The only person who should be paying for it has moved on with their life and there you are inflicting pain on someone else and it doesn't even make you feel better. It's the most painful cycle I've ever experienced.
     
     Years ago I heard someone talking about an argument they had with their husband. He said "am I always going to have to pay for what he did to you?" The wife said "yes" 

What??? Are you kidding me?

How does that work? Your husband didn't even know this person. Why should he have to "pay"? It doesn't make sense. But it is the human cycle. Someone hurts you and you pass it on because you are in pain. I get it. But I could never do that. I feel like that is what I struggle with the most. What was the point? What did it bring me to? I am constantly second guessing myself. I replay conversations in my head to make sure that I didn't sound like an idiot. I have turned from a butterfly to a wallflower because I just don't know who is safe. This is no way to live but this is the result of what has happened. This is the reason for the constant questioning and the ocd-like way of going through my days. 

     I can say that the one thing I am more conscious of is God's presence in my life. It was never in question. He has always been there and I have always been aware. I know that I am leaning on Him more now and I am grateful for that. But my relationship with Him was not in question or peril prior to this. As I said before what was the point of all this? I have no idea and maybe I will never know. I have lost a year of my life on this and I am not going to lose any more time on it. 

     My heart and my feelings have not changed. My heart is broken and it continues to break for the situation that is out of my hands and for the love that I lost, because that part was real. I am hoping to get to the point where someone asks for a haircut and my heart doesn't sink when I pull out my box of tools. It's just silly, I know. 

     This is a stain that will always be on my favorite shirt. I can cover it up, but I know it's there.  I am not getting rid of my favorite clothes just because the promise of stain lifting isn't true. My Jesus is real and His love is real and at the end of the day that is what I need to believe and hold on to. If there was a lesson to learn it's that He is where my trust and loyalties lie and nothing can strip that from me. 

Though you slay me-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyUPz6_TciY&feature=share&list=FLfhEzd-QhV4NruHR2sXY_Tg

I come, God, I come
I return to the Lord
The one who's broken
The one who's torn me apart
You struck down to bind me up
You say You do it all in love
That I might know You in Your suffering

Though You slay me
Yet I will praise You
Though You take from me
I will bless Your name
Though You ruin me
Still I will worship
Sing a song to the one who's all I need

My heart and flesh may fail
The earth below give way
But with my eyes, with my eyes I'll see the Lord
Lifted high on that day
Behold, the Lamb that was slain
And I'll know every tear was worth it all

Though You slay me
Yet I will praise You
Though You take from me
I will bless Your name
Though You ruin me
Still I will worship
Sing a song to the one who's all I need

Though tonight I'm crying out
Let this cup pass from me now
You're still all that I need
You're enough for me
You're enough for me

Though You slay me
Yet I will praise You
Though You take from me
I will bless Your name
Though You ruin me
Still I will worship
Sing a song to the one who's all I need
Sing a song to the one who's all I need

Ain't you tired, Miss Hilly?

     I am not a fan of animal print clothing. Giraffe, zebra, leopard, cow, all the prints. Tonight I had a run in with a girl in a cheetah print sweater. 

Every Wednesday my sisters come over for dinner and we get take out. We always pick from different spots, and usually I have them pick it up so I don't have to leave the house, it's a pretty good system. Tonight, for some reason, I decided I was going to have my sister going one direction and I would go in the other just to make it easier on us. I roll up to a Chinese restaurant that I have never physically been in. When I parked, there was a gackle of children with bikes right outside the door, an older woman, and the cheetah girl. They're all waiting outside and it looked like only two people were allowed in the restaurant at one time to pick up orders. I was just waiting in the car for the crowd to disperse a bit.

     I'm watching the interaction of the boys with the bikes, it looks like they're all helping a friend pick up dinner for his mom, it was very sweet. The older lady shows up and she is waiting outside with Cheetah girl.  While I'm watching the boys, a soldier pulls up next to me and goes into the restaurant. He walks in and it looks like he's placing his order, then he stands there. The old lady has some sort of interaction with the Cheetah girl and then she goes inside and starts to chat with the soldier. At this point the gackle of boys roll away. I walk up to the restaurant and go to pull on the door and the Cheetah girl, who is standing all by herself, snapped at me. "There's a line!" I flipped my head around and looked right at her. 

1. Because her audacity gave me whiplash and 

2. Because we were in a pretty shady area and she doesn't know me. So I kindly said "oh even for pick up?" Again, with the audacity of 12 Susan's, she said "yeah, that's why I'm standing here" I giggled a bit to cut the tension. Now I understand we all have bad days and sometimes you snap, I totally get it. I moved to the other side of the door and said "so I guess you've been here before?" I didn't ask her because I wanted to have a conversation, I asked her because there isn't one sign, inside or out, stating this. You'd only know this rule if you had been there before. She responds with "yeah, like this guy just cut in front of me and went inside to order and now he's just standing there, some people have no concern for others". She's referring to the soldier, who mind you, was in conversation with the older woman. I'm not sure it was his choice to "just stand there".

     At this point, the older woman got her food, the soldier turns, holds the door open for her, and follows her out. As soon as he came out Cheetah girl ran inside. I don't say a word because I am just watching to make sure the restaurant worker makes it through the interaction. Cheetah girl comes out and I walk in and grab my stuff. I come out the door to the soldier who's patiently waiting outside for his dinner and I turn to him and I say "thank you for your service". I could see that he was smiling under his mask and he said "thank you". As I'm walking back to the car, I become completely overwhelmed and just start crying. You know this girl doesn't cry. I could not pull myself together. I came home, dropped the food off in the kitchen, slipped into the office, sat down and just started sobbing. 

     The news over the past year has been a lot. But the news in just the last couple of days has been devastating. I made an effort not to watch the video of the soldier that was pulled over a couple days ago but, of course, I came across it and was absolutely heartbroken to see what transpired. 

     Racial fury aside, this man at the restaurant was a soldier. It was the "no concern for others" line that got me. I have grown up in a military town. I have seen firsthand what military families go through. I have watched how military families can be torn apart. I have watched how those who serve our country sacrifice so much of their lives, and for some, their mental health. I have watched those who have come out of the military become lost in a routine that they're not used to. I've watched veterans beg the VA to help them and instead get 35 different prescriptions that no human should be taking together. I've watched lives fall apart from deployment. I've seen the devastation of a soldier taking their own life. But, I have also watched them fight to save their families. I've watched them fight to create a new normal. I've watched them succeed. It's extremely humbling to witness. It's because of this that I do what I can to support veterans. Whether it's making cookies for a friend who is struggling with the aftermath of military retirement or it's hiring a Veteran mobile dog groomer to come wash my pups. I know their path is marked with scars. So if they want to cut in line, for the love of socks, I'm letting it happen. 

     I don't need to tell you that the soldier I ran into this evening happened to be Asian and he just wanted to have a Chinese dinner from a great hole in the wall restaurant in a shady part of town. So why am I bringing race into this at all? This afternoon I was speaking with my mom about Caron Nazario, the soldier that was pulled over in Virginia because the police couldn't see his tags. I told her that I probably wouldn't get pulled over if you couldn't see my tags. I probably wouldn't get pulled over if my tags were expired. If I did get pulled over, I know full well I would get a ticket and arrive at my destination alive and well. We did an ancestry DNA test a while back and found out that most of our family's ancestry goes back to Sicily. There is very little of us that could be considered "white". But, when I fill out forms I have to check that box because they don't care that I'm Sicilian. Now obviously the color of my skin provides the advantage to get pulled over, get my ticket, and go home. I told my mother that it makes me sick that I get to ride the coattails of white privilege. I can't change that, but I know in my heart I do not feel like I am better than anybody and, unless you're just absolute trash, I'm not. 

     So again, why in this time of turmoil do I even bother bringing up race? My goal here is not to cause dissention. I promise you I'm making a point. When I was walking back to the car and started crying, I got very frustrated. Mostly because I don't cry and when I do it makes me angry. When I couldn't pull myself together back at the house I was trying to figure out what it was that made me so upset. I mean, what did she say that was so bad? Is it really that big of a deal? Was I making something out of nothing? So I started to dissect, was it just a culmination of all the trauma that's going on that I'm seeing every day? Maybe. Did I forget to take my crazy pill this morning? No. I realized I was so upset because this girl felt completely comfortable speaking to me like that about somebody else. I was watching her interact with the older lady, she didn't say a word, that older lady was trying to talk to her and she wasn't having it. She didn't say a word to the latino boys who kept going in and out of the restaurant. She didn't even say anything to the soldier who made her so angry. She did, in fact, say something to me. Something about me made her comfortable enough to not only snap, but let me know how she was slighted. 

     I took offense at the fact that he was a soldier and she had absolutely no respect for him. She had no idea what he's been through. She was hungry, she was probably tired, she probably had a horrible day, maybe she has a horrible life, I don't know. What she didn't see, is this man who may have also had a horrible day was inside speaking to this older woman who may not have spoken to another human all week. Maybe this lady is all alone and this 3 minute interaction made her entire day.  I do know that I am frustrated with the fact that there is so much hate on display everywhere you look. There's very few Facebook posts where there isn't a dissenting opinion which brings out the worst in others. You can't watch the news without seeing hate from one side of the country to the other. I think I'm mostly bothered by the fact that all of this turmoil isn't changing anybody's actions. We see this day in and day out and I just think "aren't you tired?" and then you run into the girl at the Chinese place who is furious.

I just don't understand what it would take for people to be kind. I don't know why it's so difficult. I don't want to be an ally for hate. I don't want someone to look at me and be like "oh yeah, she gets it, she's on my side" I'll be your biggest cheerleader but if you only want to be ugly and hateful, you're on your own. 

Ride or Die!

     If you know me, you know I hate crying. If you see me crying, pretend like you don't see me. I HATE crying. When there are those moments that I cannot control it and I do cry, it makes me so mad that I cry even more cause now I'm mad. A sweet little girl thought I was crying the other day and she said "no, don't! you'll mess up the make up" It was perfect because that is exactly how I feel about it. I spend a lot of time putting this face on, I'm not trying to cry it off.

     Okay, so are you getting the point? I don't cry. Cut to a couple weeks ago when I went to see the movie, I Can Only Imagine. These lame eyes welled up at the title and I sobbed through the whole thing. My logical response was "oh gosh, there is something wrong with me". I was not okay until the next day, even then I was a bit off. Thinking it was a fluke, I make my sister and mom go with me again to prove to myself that something was, in fact, wrong with me the week before. I packed tissues...for them. This time I did not cry at the title. It started a few minutes after the title. A scene comes up where I just know my mom and Alex are gonna lose it, I hand them tissues and say "you're gonna need this". By the end of the movie, these two girls haven't touched their tissues and I am, once again, a crying, snotty mess...and my make up was jacked! I get home and realize I am not okay. Now, I start to go through all the possible reasons that I am acting a fool, there are no obvious physical excuses. It turns out I became a sappy crybaby overnight.

     There was something about this movie that struck a nerve in me. The movie is based off the life of Bart Millard. Bart is the singer of a band called MercyMe. Bart wrote a song called "I Can Only Imagine". The band has written numerous songs, most of which capture my most painful moments and remind me who is in charge of my life and why I will survive those moments. The words this man has written are indescribably relevant to my life and always bring me to tears. Bart experienced abuse and abandonment for most of his life. He tried to get past it and live the life he thought he wanted but, he couldn't. I don't want to give anything away because you have to see it. Bart realized something had to change in his life and he had to take a huge, painful step to get that accomplished. Through all of it came immense blessing and love he never knew was possible. All of that allowed him to write this music that kills me every time!

     I was not beaten by my father and my mother never abandoned me. I did not travel with a band. I do love to sing though! I am singing or humming almost the entire time I am awake. It is a part of me, it is who I am. He had to sing, but he was stuck, I connected with this part of the movie. Then, it finally hit me like a ton of bricks!

     If you've been following this blog you know that I started writing because my life took a crazy turn a few years ago. My only outlet during this time was to write, so I did. Prior to this event, I had 2 important passions, singing and photography. Singing was my true outlet, worship was my ultimate outlet. Getting lost in worship where it's just me and my Jesus and nothing else mattered, that was where I was most at peace, most content. When this happened, I stopped singing. I didn't even sing in the car. I was all done. We were church-hopping at the time and ended up at a small church that needed help with their worship team. My mother made sure I was a part of it. I did it, I hated every minute of it. I couldn't feel it. I hate when people say that, it's worship for the love of Mike, but, I was that person. I dragged myself to practice and Sunday mornings. I just played the part, I'm a great actress.

     After about a year of this jazz, someone started attending the church that was going to be the new worship leader. We hadn't met formally and my mother wrote a skit that required me to sing a song. She said "Ray said he'd play piano for you". I show up on a Saturday and he knows nothing about playing the piano for me. He doesn't know me from Mariah Carey, he literally only knows my name, he assumes I know what I am doing. I tell him him that if he can't play the piano then I am not going to do it and we can just forget it. He made me sing the song with the background music after I specifically told him I couldn't because it is too high. This arrogant fool plays it and tells me to sing. 1. you don't know me. 2. turn up the music. He is busy while I am struggling to sing this song and I told him not to worry about getting the music for it, we'd just play it because I can't sing it.  He stops me in my tracks and says "I heard you sing this song. This song is part of you". 1. you don't know me. 2. are you cutting onions?

     It was a short 30 minute interaction with this man I didn't know that literally changed everything in my life. Ray starts to lead the worship team and we just click. I can read him and I know where we're going and when I don't know where we're going I still follow along. I have never experienced anything like this before. I was in the zone and more importantly, I was worshiping. I spent a year in silence and then, just like that, I couldn't stop. I have not stopped ever since that chance encounter with Ray Austin. I have been stalking him ever since.

     Ray never knew the story about why I stopped singing, to this day unless he is reading these blog posts, he still has no idea. He didn't need to know, I never needed to tell him. He saw this broken princess and pushed her in a way that no one else ever has. Not singing was detrimental to my life. It sounds silly but, it was my lifeline. I cut it off and had no idea how it affected me. It was literally killing me. There is this line in the movie, The Shack, "If pain is left unresolved you can forget what you were created for". I forgot, I let the pain take over every part of my life and just stayed there stuck in this swamp. Ray has this crazy way of making stuff happen, whether you want it to or not, it's happening. This man saved me and didn't even know it. That is what happened in the movie, that is why it affected me so much. Someone pushed him to get over himself and rediscover his passion. He thought he was living his passion but, he wasn't even close. Bart's manager knew he was hurting and he said "stop running from it. Let that pain become your inspiration". He had to face the pain and deal, that is where I was. It's so weird when you see it play out in front of you. 

     That year or so where I wasn't singing, I was running from it. I thought if I closed myself off from everything I would be okay, I wasn't, I was dying inside and it was the most difficult time in my life. Ray unstuck me from myself. He pushed me to keep moving and he didn't even know. A year or so ago, Ray almost died. It was a scary time for everyone involved. 2 months later this beast emerges like nothing ever happened! He started singing a song and I lost my crackers! God has such an incredible call on his life. He is a miracle and I am so fricking blessed to have him and his wife, Jodie in my life. God knew what he was doing. When we have the chance to sing together I jump at it. Even if it happens after 7 pm. I miss cues, I am off key, I am flat, but he just lays on the C and waits for me to pull it together. He never lets me give up, no matter how hard I want to. I needed this, I needed him, I needed this movie to remind me of where I was and where I am. I have never been a confident singer and still to this day, struggle with it. This man pushed me to fight through all this nonsense and do what I was created for. Even if I am singing in a basement for the rest of my life, I am living out what I was created for and I am not shutting it down again! 

Ride or die, to the end yo!

Psycho

This last month has been a past dredging, soul sucking, unbelievably rough month. 

No one died. No one left. No one arrived. No moving. No Hellos. No Goodbyes

I have been back and forth about writing this blog. I also know that unless I get this out it will forever be the splinter in my hand. It's there but it hurts too much to take out. Thanks to my very special friend Miss Eliza Love for posting the quote above I have decided that it's time to remove this splinter. This story has never been told. I've never been more stressed and more sure of the need to do something as I am with this.

     We've all seen or heard those quotes about you being in charge of your own destiny and how only you can control what happens to you and you are in control of how you feel. If you don't like it, change it. Blah, blah, blah. I believe that to be true to a certain degree. I can also argue against that because I am proof that you are not always in charge of what happens and how some events set the stage for the rest of your life. 

I have said before that God was doing an intense work in my life in 2008. The fiasco leading up to the 2008 episode happened almost 15 years before.

     Let's take a trip back to 1993, before I ever had a multi platinum selling CD....oops..Sorry, wrong blog.

I was 14. Like most 14 year old girls I was an overdramatic mess. Why? Because I was 14. Like all 14 year olds, I knew everything. I knew what was best and I certainly knew and understood more than my parents ever could. This mindset is what led to my ultimate demise. 

    

    I was part of a great church with a good youth group. My youth pastor was the most wonderful person ever. He was so caring and listened to every dramatic thing I ever had to say. He always checked up on me and made sure I was okay, he was my very best friend in the whole world. On our first youth trip another youth pastor made a sarcastic remark to him, which I thought was hilarious. He took me aside and said "I'm your youth pastor now, you need to defend me" Check. Done. (This will come back to smack me in the head) He put me in charge of "adminsterial things" and I was the happiest girl you ever saw......or was I?
I was 14 so I unloaded everything on him, cause he loved me and cared for me, remember? We had a very odd relationship. He would snap his fingers and I would jump. I did anything and everything I could to make him proud of me. He was very arrogant and very demanding of me and what I did with my time, where he was involved. My loyalties were to him above all else. I never wanted to let him down and this girl did a lot of lying to get out of the house so I could get things done for him. It sounds hinky but they were stupid things, like paint his office, create event flyers, pose as his sister to buy a motorcycle. All above board things but things I had to lie about cause I was 14 and spending enormous amounts of time with a single 21 year old was not on my parents list of acceptable activities. In case you forgot I was smarter than them at that age.
He knew he had me at his beck and call. Sometime after we had created this weird bond, my very best friend informed me I was overweight but that he would help me. I was to write down everything I ate, along with every bit of exercise I did. This went on for months I spent days eating carrot sticks. I turned in all of my papers to him and waited for my next mission. I was in his office one day and saw all of my papers wadded up and in the trash. Every self deprecating word of every meal and jumping jack tossed in the trash. It was never spoken of again. But he loved me right? of course he did. So I pretended like it was nothing, just like everything else.
I would get reprimanded for the dumbest things. I was told that I was not being a good enough friend to him when I would join in on jokes with the other kids my age. I was advised that my attitude was inappropriate and that he and everyone else had to walk on eggshells around me because I was acting like a baby. I was held to a higher standard. If I didn't get a talking to, I got a look. I always apologized and reiterated how blessed I was to have someone like him in my life and how lucky I was that he wanted to make me better. He loved me, remember? He just wanted what was best for me......Enter Stockholm Syndrome. By this point he could have knocked me through a wall and I would have cleaned it up and made sure his hand was okay. I was too far in. I was too young and nobody else was treated this way. I was special, I was handpicked. He loved me, remember?

     One day he announces that he is going to leave and attend college in another state. I was crushed. I was now 15 slightly more dramatic and a complete mess. Of course, my life was over. "The only person who ever really loved me" was leaving. Just typing this I wanna slap myself.
I don't quite remember the timing of the next bombshell, it was a couple months or so after he had left. There was a rumor that he may have gotten a little touchy feely with a couple of the girls. Remember, I was his favorite and he loved me the most. My first thought was that the story was bull. I knew these girls and they had always made up stories to sound like they were his favorite. I knew better. These girls were liars. I was never abused. How could it be true? I, alone, defended this man. For years and then some to everyone and anyone, even my brother. Deep down inside of course I knew it was true, but I had a job to do.
That line cost me everything.
How about we cover this with dirt, push it way down and move on with life? Check. Done.

     Needless to say I was a disaster. My life turned in a way I never imagined. I had lost every friend I had ever made. I never knew why. I am sure just reading this, you already figured it out. So I made new friends at school, we started attending different churches and no one ever knew anything, besides, what was there to know?

     In 2000, I was still reeling from this empty part in my life. Which part? The part where this man left me and broke me. I knew he was the only one who could fix me. I was on a mission to find him. Once he was back in my life I would be fine. He was my best friend, remember? I defended him. He loved me. 

I find out that he was working for a call center and I immediately applied. I have never had a desire to work at a call center but I sold the idea to the family as if it was my life goal. Finally, one day, there he was. Remarkably, there is no long awaited embrace. No apology. Just "Hey" After a couple of months he realized that I was becoming friends with people he knew there. To eliminate the stress of me spilling the beans, I was taken out of the equation and he had me nanny for his kids. Mind you, my family had no idea who he was. He was referred as "my boss" months later when it was revealed to my mother I literally watched her heart break across the table from me, sorry Mombo.

     I will not go into details but this was not the man I remembered. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the verbal abuse towards his beautiful wife. Maybe the physical abuse towards his precious baby boys. Perhaps the beating of his sweet chocolate lab. It could've been the weed or maybe the cocaine. I just couldn't put my finger on it, but something was off with him. I knew who he really was and one day he was gonna fix everything. You probably already know, he didn't fix anything. So I had to change my mindset, his wife and kids needed someone neutral, someone to remind them who he really was and everything would be okay. Right? I was a nanny for a little over a year. I saw and heard things nobody ever should have to. I would sit with the babies and cry because I was so torn. My heart kept saying "you know him, this isn't him" and my mind was like "grab those babies and run" He was on a vicious downward spiral and my presence made it worse. One day he said they changed their hours at work and they didn't need me anymore, no goodbye. It was over. Just like that.

Abandoned, again.

     Now let's fast forward to 2008. We had just closed our restaurant. I was out of work. I moved in with Pete about a year before to "help him" through a rough patch. Well, I am no longer employed and basically Pete is taking care of me. No job, no life, no incentive to live. Let's just lay on the couch for 5 months and sob. The only time I left the house was to go to choir practice at New Life, where I would sob. I am saying this because I don't cry and I sure as heck don't do that jazz in public. One night we were worshiping during practice and Ross Parsley said, "some of you are crying and you think that is because of all the pain inside" (What pain? I live off my brother and don't have to work) He continued "it's not the pain that is hurting you, it is God pushing His way out from the junk you threw on top of Him" ("What junk? You're crazy, Ross, but since I cannot compose myself I have to leave")

     It was a very weird time. I had an obscene amount of alone time. Some days out of nowhere I would get these flash backs to conversations I didn't remember having, we like to call those, repressed memories. These conversations consisted of odd comments made by said youth pastor when I was 14. Things like "I hate when people can see through the windows of my office" Silly, when I was 14. Terrifying, when I was 30. Little by little God was revealing the true nature of this man and the affect he had on me. The lasting affects, most of which I had no idea occurred. The more God revealed, the clearer things became. I have always been overweight and unless I was with my family or close friends I would never let anyone watch me eat. It was a silly quirk that I never gave a second thought to. When I was a nanny this man asked me if I wanted something to eat and I said no. He snapped back and said "why won't you ever eat in front of me?" I didn't have an answer, then. During this deep cleaning God was doing I was reminded of this stupid question and then reminded of the reason. He monitored everything I ate for almost a year and a half. At this point I completely fell apart. I had no idea what was going on and I had no idea where these things were coming from and why after 15 years were they popping up out of nowhere. I had no one to reconcile with and God forbid I spoke of it! This was ridiculous. I think Pete honestly thought I had snapped and needed to be committed.
   
     Through all of this, I never spoke of it to anyone I knew. I mentioned the chaos to a therapist friend one day and I said "I don't know what's happening I was over this, I am over this. He never touched me so why am I acting like I was the one who was abused" She stared at me as if she was shocked that it never occurred to me and she said "You were abused, probably the worst of all" I was like "didn't you hear me say nothing ever happened to me?" She then explained the cause and effect of psychological abuse and that at 14, an overly emotional girl doesn't know what that means and would have no way of thwarting the damage cause it was seen as love not abuse. With that I crumbled, went home wrote a poem and shut it down. I never ever brought it up again. Now don't get me wrong the girls that were abused have been through hell since the experience, the difference is that they knew something happened at the time. They had an evil deed to refer to and blame, it was obvious. I did not have that.

     Now back to my initial statement, this one chapter of my life set a course I had never planned. This one person, changed the course of my life. Yes, it can happen. I was at an impressionable age, I didn't know anything was happening that needed to be stopped. From that moment on I was always on guard and cynical. I thought I was just a jerk with a bad attitude. Little did I know my brain was trying to protect me from allowing that chaos in again. Finding this out when you're 30 is practically debilitating. All of the flashbacks and all of the things God was showing me was the answer to a prayer that I forgot I had prayed during my senior year of high school.  I prayed fervently everyday that God would not let me wake up the next day. From 15-19 I had attempted suicide 4 times. My mind kept telling me that I had done something wrong, because he really loved me, why would he just abandon me?  It was me, not him. This went on for years until 2008. I finally had time to do absolutely nothing. God knew what he was doing, His timing was perfect, as always. Had I been employed when all this went down, I'd be writing this from my padded room.
   
    If you've been following this blog you know I started writing because I had a broken heart. It's been the longest 2 years of my life. Why is it so hard to get over? Girls get over this stuff all the time, relationships don't work out, he moved away. I should really be able to deal, but I couldn't. About a month ago, I started struggling with this again. I needed God to tell me why this won't go away. Last Tuesday I was speaking with one of my most wonderful friends whom I had lost when I was 15 due to my shenanigans. We rekindled our friendship about 5 years ago and I am so beyond blessed to have this girl back in my life. We were at a baseball game and were discussing the demise of our youth pastor and the affect it had on both of us. I never put it all together that this man took everything away from me. I lost 15 years with this girl because of him and what I did for him. I had no idea, I just assumed she moved on with her life and didn't need me. It was not the case and I am so grateful for forgiveness and for her presence in my life. On Saturday I was driving and I was in the most terrible place, mentally. For a flash second I wanted a car to slam in to me. Not to kill me (cause what would you do with out me?) I just wanted to be out of commission for a bit. That thought scared the bejeezus out of me and I cried the whole way back to my house. Deep inside I know why I can't let go of it. Just like when I was 14, this was all my fault. My relationship from 2 years ago ended because I did something wrong. I was too fat, I didn't like golf. I was too much of a princess to go camping. That's why it was so easy for him to cut me off and leave me heartbroken. It was my fault. So fine, now what? I admit the problem, "God can you please take it away now?"  My cry was "God what do you want from me?" He said "get rid of this" I said "I did, we're done, there's nothing left"  I left that mess in the car and walked in the house with a smile.
   
     We went out for father's day and the youth pastor came up in conversation, 22 years later I find out that my mother had no idea that he abused those girls. She was angry and asked if I knew what he did why did I seek him out and agree to be the nanny? I said I am not going to get into this right here in the middle of Zio's. I purposely sought him out. I consciously made the choice to find him. I needed him to fix me. When I saw that wasn't going to happen I needed to fix him. My loyalties were still with him. Maybe after all this time he would see that I still loved him no matter what and he could finally be proud of me. I didn't know any different at that time. My concern was his happiness, not my safety.

      You know that moment before the pot boils, you can just hear the tension? That was me. Then I saw the quote from my Miss Love and God said "I'm not going to tell you again, get rid of this" "This" has been a part of me and only me for 22 years. No one knew and no one needed to know. It's been like a tumor taking over me. It was my battle, I would fight it. No one needed to get caught in it. Everything in my life has been a direct result of the psychological abuse that occurred when I was 14.

     I have got to put this out there, out of me, and let it go. This has been an incredible burden to bear. I cannot carry it any longer. I am making peace with my past. I am pulling this out at the core and exposing it for what it was. I have to move on. No matter how I felt I have never been alone through any of this. God has replaced the most important people that I pushed away. He has walked, carried and dragged me through everyday of my life. I cut people off and shut people out, even my family, because I was so ashamed of who I was and why I was that way. I am not anymore. I am a Princess. I am grateful for the breath in my lungs and the loving, understandingly patient family and friends that God has truly blessed me with.

Below is an excerpt from a song called Unredeemed. I will be performing it on Sunday to accompany a skit at church. I have been super stressed because I stopped singing about a year ago. I let my passion go and kept the chaos. I expressed my struggle in singing the song with a pastor friend of mine and he said "I heard you sing this song. This song is part of you" I have used this as a blog and for a friend in need but I have never associated it with my own struggle....until now.

"For every choice that led to shame

And all the love that never came

For every vow that someone broke

And every life that gave up hope

We live in the shadow of the fall

But the cross says these are all

Places where grace is soon to be so amazing

It may be unfulfilled, it may be unrestored

But when anything that's shattered

Is laid before the Lord

Just watch and see, it will not be unredeemed"

The Son of God

I was raised in a christian home. I read all the books (with the pictures) I know most of the stories. I have seen all of the movies....all of them.
I am fully aware of all that Jesus did to save my life..........
But am I really?

The story is pretty simple and the facts are clear. Almost everyone knows it. He came as a baby, performed miracles, enraged the righteous, they kill Him, and then He goes to Heaven.
......Right?
Did I miss anything?

Yes. Yes I missed almost everything. The most important of the everything is very rarely mentioned.
The Son of God hit me like no other "Jesus" movie ever has.
There are 2 reasons for that:
1. The particular actor who plays Jesus is absolutely beautiful. So that was an incentive to watch yet another "Jesus" movie. (mas muy guapo el hijo de dios)
2. My life has gone through so many changes the last 2 years that I have started seeing things from a different point of view.

This movie wasn't a movie. This movie was the diary of My Jesus written to me about what He suffered through. We all know how He suffered right? 39 lashes, 40 is considered public embarrassment, Mel Gibson's Passion made that gruesomely clear. Crown of thorns, we've all been stuck by a rose once or twice. Spikes in His Hands and Feet, kinda like a lego, right? I am making light of this because we, as Christians, know these facts but we do not know this suffering.

I realized in this particular adaptation, unlike The Passion, it was not focused on the physical torture. This is the first movie I have ever seen where Jesus is literally portrayed as a human and not an angelic being. He had friends, they laughed, they told jokes. He had a momma. He got rocks in his sandals. He was in every sense a human being. I feel like the fact that we know He is the Son of God gives us the impression that it wasn't that bad. He knew what was coming, He's God....He'll live. Every movie I have every seen has given this impression. You know the end. He'll be fine.
Just a few more hours Jesus, you can do it buddy!

The last 2 years have been a life sucking, heart breaking, confusing and lonely time for me. I feel like I am definitely healing but things are different, I am different. I have changed. Some of it is positive and some of it is not. I have always viewed things differently, even in movies, when I realize someones heart is on the line. I cried through the Truman Show while everyone in the theatre was doubled over in laughter, I saw it from a different point of view. I have always been sensitive to that. You don't mess with someone's heart like that. You'd think I would've seen this mess coming, hahahaa oh silly girl.

Here's the breaking point. We know that Jesus tells Peter "you will deny me three times" Peter scoffs at the assumption. This movie brings out a relationship side of Jesus and His disciples that has never been touched. When this particular moment happens Jesus hugs Peter and they close in on Jesus' face and you can just feel His heart sink. Funny right? He's God. That can't be a real thing. He knew what was gonna happen "get over it and move on Jesus, you'll be home by sundown"

Although He knew His ultimate demise, He was a human. Like you, like me. This is the part we tend to brush off. He was designed like us. He cried, He laughed, He probably stubbed His toe. The most important part about Him being a human is that He had a heart and feelings. They were not supernaturally designed to deflect logic and pain. They were real just like yours, just like mine. He spent every day for 3 years with this inner circle of His. They experienced things that were unbelievable but, happening right before their eyes. Jesus, as a human, saw them for the first time with human eyes, as well. The relationship He forged with these people was incredible. These people put their lives and reputations on the line for this wandering stranger. Trust. Trust was a huge part of their relationship.
All of them. All day. Everyday. Every night. They smelled, they had obnoxious habits. But they loved and trusted each other fiercely.

Fast forward to the last supper. He knows Judas is about to sell him out for some chump change. One of His best friends. Have you ever been betrayed by a friend? I doubt the end result was your crucifixion. But, it was still devastating. Remember?

Now on to Peter. Peter straight up says to His face "not me, I will die with you"

This is the part of the movie that killed me.

Jesus is with the very high holy priests who claim they know His Father better than He does. They pose the accusation that He claims this is His kingdom. To which He replies "This is not my kingdom if it were my people would be protesting my arrest" His people? The people He spent every moment of the last 1,095 days with? Clearly not those people, those fools scattered. Those two words "my people" just think about it.
They spent all this time and had all these experiences with this man, and just abandoned Him.
What makes someone a true friend?

They cut to Jesus being led into the town. Judas just realizes what that satchel of silver got him. He runs out to a field and meets his maker.
A guard approaches Peter and asks if he is friends with Jesus. Peter says no, within earshot of Jesus. He heard him, He knew it was coming but, oh my gosh, what? The guard says "I've seen you with Him" Peter says "no it wasn't me". A bystander interjects "yes he is one of Jesus' friends" Peter now, visibly disturbed erupts and shouts "I do not know Him" with that the guard punches him and at the same time a guard punches Jesus and they both fall to the ground. The direction of the scene closes in on both their faces. Peter catches Jesus eye and realizes what he's just done. Jesus smiles a smile that only someone who truly loves you can, true heartbreak and true love come through this smile. A couple hours ago Peter was going to die with his buddy, but stuff just got real and he ain't getting clipped. Peter just broke the heart of the Son of God and he totally knew it.

Can you imagine what Jesus must have felt at that moment? He is in the most horrible situation of His life and His best friend, the one who would "die with Him" publicly ditched Him. To. His. Face.
Being stabbed in the back is one thing but having it done to your face and being able to watch it, that is a whole different level of anguish.
My point is this: Yes, Jesus knew this would happen. But, being God or not, His heart was human. These people claimed to love Him, even claimed they would die with, and for, Him and when the time came they bolted.
I love love love that my Jesus was a human. I do not love what was done to Him. I do not love that His nearest and dearest treated him with such disdain.

My Jesus was here. He was in the most inhumane of situations. He was in the most mundane of situations. Some days He was surrounded by thousands who adored Him and some days, the Son of God, felt lonely. His friends turned their backs on Him when He needed them the most. He was all and is all and became this for me, for you.
He felt the pain of loss. He felt the pain of betrayal. He knows. He knows every tear that I have cried. Someone broke His heart and He cried the same tears, He even sobbed. He knew the end but He still had to get through it, humanly, painfully, diligently.

As I am typing this I am just beside myself. He's not made of gold. He's not a statue. He's not make believe.
He is real! Absolutely, undeniably, real and He is mine!

And the best part is......He loves me. This mess. This bundle of spiraling chaotic emotions. He loves me because He's been there. You can only truly understand someone and what they are faced with when you, yourself have been there. He was there and now He is here. All day. Every day. Just like He was then, He is now. Always. This is the most important of the everything!
I love love love Him.

Natural Disaster

     We've all seen the news showing photos of the aftermath of a storm, an act of God, if you will. The photos are heart wrenching. Peoples lives scattered miles in every direction. Their belongings lost under piles of housing and vehicles and every so often a stray cow. The news always goes back once things have settled and talk to the people affected, usually standing in front of what used to be their home, sifting through the rubble to find anything to cling to, anything to help start over.

     By the grace of God, I have never had to physically endure this type of terror. I've always had a home, a family, a job, a vehicle. I am a truly blessed girl and I am eternally grateful for what I have been given and continue to receive.

If you've been following this blog you know that I equated my situation to a storm, a literal act of God. In no uncertain terms my entire life was picked up and violently shaken. It has been a long and lonely journey. In my last blog I felt as though the storm part of this had finally died down and for the last few weeks I have been sifting through the rubble trying to figure out where and how to start again.

Here is what I found:
A while ago I wrote a blog called "All Done? Not Yet" where I question what it was I was mourning. The confusion lasted as long as the storm and since things have cleared up my thoughts have been pretty lucid, dare I say almost grown-up like. Was I mourning the loss of my first true love? The loss of a little boy who filled my heart with joy? The loss of a relationship that was or wasn't or was it? It turns out that at certain points throughout this process it has been one or all of those but the last couple weeks I have realized that the one true thing I was and am mourning is the loss of a friend.

In my life I have had 2 friends that I considered "lifelong" You know which ones I mean. The kind that know what you are saying without using your words. The ones who share and attempt to achieve your level of sarcasm. The ones that you celebrate your 80th birthday with at the home. These friends. The ones who don't judge, the ones you can say anything and everything to. The first one has been memorialized in my blog "Wednesday's Child is full of woe" The second was the catalyst to this particular act of God I have been referring to for the last year.

I have heard all the inspirational quotes "people are brought into your life for a reason either they're a blessing or a lesson" "God brings people for a season in your life" blah, blah, blah. I have never believed that about this situation, not once.
I have been through a plethora of emotions and what I feel towards the situation. Hate was never an option. It never has been and at this point never will be.

Please don't get me wrong, I have friends and my family is amazing. I love love love the people that God has surrounded me with during this time and I know that without them I would not have made it. I love my friends.
But this friend was different, this friend was the kind you see in movies. The kind others wish they had. The kind that could kill me with a look and fix me with a smile. The kind that I felt completely unguarded with and did not require any sort of walls with. (clearly this is why I am where I am) I felt whole. I knew a bad day would turn around with a silly remark about how good the kitchen smelled.....if only I could smell it.

It wasn't about being in love. It was about friendship. It was about comfort. It was about barefeet and drinking from the same cup. It was simple, it was complex. It was fun, it was difficult. It literally was the best of times and the worst of the times. And to this day I would give anything to retrieve that.

This is what I kept from the maelstrom. This one true thing that I miss and still mourn. Even through the lucidity of my new mind and thoughts this one thing still makes no sense to me. I don't see the point. This part of my heart remains torn as I pick up the other pieces and put them in my basket. I am skipping out of this wasteland of brokenness with a huge smile on my face. This scar will remind me to be open but guarded. I will always be the same friend because that is who I am that is what is in my nature. I will always give more than I get and expect nothing in return. I am a true friend, a little broken but a lot more put together.

I leave you with this quote from one of my favorite movies:
"You only make a once in a lifetime friend, once in a lifetime" Stymy Little Rascals

Heartless

"Somewhere far along this road, 

he lost his soul

To a woman so heartless"

-Heartless by Kris Allen 

heart·less [hahrt-lis]
—adjective
unfeeling; unkind; unsympathetic; harsh; cruel

There's a lot circulating on the web about women being empowered.  "You're beautiful, you're smart, You're funny, blah blah blah" I get it. 

This is not about that woman. 

Have you ever met the woman described above?
She's cold and calculated.  She has one priority, herself.  She has no soul and her eyes, although beautiful, are empty.
She's a different kind of person.  One who can reel you in undetected and squash you like a bug all the while wearing a huge smile. 

I have had the tragic misfortune of meeting her......twice. Once as close as being a part of my family and the second time through a friend. 
Clearly they are 2 different women from 2 different worlds at 2 different times and ages in their lives.  Remarkably they are unrelated but should be banished to dwell together in a 400 square foot home with 1 bathroom for all eternity. 

Excuse me, I digress. 

This is how she works.  

She floats into a man's life too cute and flirtatious to ignore. She waits for him to take the bait and then her plan unfolds. She's super sweet and makes him so happy. She convinces him that this is it and they'll be together forever. He continues to do whatever she requires to keep her happy and ultimately his.

Marriage, a house, a car, a puppy maybe even a baby. He loves her. He works to keep things together.
Eventually small cracks start to appear in this fairytale. A fight here and there, a constant disagreement over the tiniest of details. He tells himself that this is all part of life and he works double time to re-ignite that spark from the beginning. 

 
Now he's working extra hours so she can be comfortable.  He's remodeling the house to her specifications. He's picking up more household chores and bending over backwards to keep the peace. This goes on for years. Little by little he's killing himself to make her happy which now seems to take more effort than ever.
He wants to buy her something special to make up for how he's obviously been letting her down. The gift is opened and he's waiting for the squeal of joy. Instead he's buried under a flurry of screaming and insults about what he should've gotten her instead. 

He tells himself to do better next time. 

Her plan is almost complete. 

He's got no more friends because she's pushed everyone out of his life except for her. He's still smiling. He loves her of course, he made a commitment. This is just a phase. It'll get better. 

He's got no idea there's almost nothing left of him. She is his wife, this has to work.  

He's not weak, he's not whipped. He made a promise. He's honest, loving and cannot see that he's too good for her. She's convinced him he's not good enough. 

Better get it together!

 
One day they have a sweet moment. "Honey, I love you so much I'm so glad you're mine"
He exhales. Everything is going to be okay.

Some time passes and one afternoon he comes home from work. 

Her bags are packed.
She's gone.
Operation: Devastation - complete. 

What happened?  She's bored with him. She's just not happy anymore. She's off to bigger and better things.

He's left alone. No answers. No absolution. She took his soul. She left him broken down and empty. She took everything from him. She's broken his spirit, his heart, his entire life ripped apart and stomped on. 

She drives away with a smile.

What's to become of this sweet boy? He retreats into a dark cave. He's still got his responsibilities and he has to keep going, people are depending on him. Who's taking care of him? No one, remember she pushed everyone away. Where does he live? Alone. In the home they built together. He's a walking shell of brokenness.

The first time I saw this transpire it was heart wrenching. I specifically remember the pain in his eyes no matter what the situation, it was always there. I will never forget that. The road to recovery was long and painful. The outcome has been remarkable, but I never wanted to see that again.

Two years later, I shook hands with a man. I looked into his beautiful eyes and saw that same exact pain. Everything I remember watching the other precious boy go through came flooding back in a four minute conversation about after school activities. I knew the whole story before he ever said a word.

It infuriates me that there are women who go around breaking hearts and sucking the life out of innocent, honest, loving men. They don't care what destruction they leave behind. This destruction does not just affect him. It affects everyone he comes in contact with. There are a lucky few who find the strength to rise above and live again.
In most cases it severely affects the next sap in line to truly love, honor and cherish him. It's not his fault. It's hers. Years of constant, daily beatdown. He believes he's incapable of being loved. He believes he'll never be good enough.  None of this is true of course, but until he believes that, he'll be trapped in this hell created by a heartless, soul crushing, life sucking, selfish woman. 

So on the flip side some men need to be reminded how important they are. 

This is for you:

You are beautiful. You are loved. You are worthy and you will be whole again.

-Ria

End Scene

     I don't remember the address or the street of the house I frequented more than my own at one point. The other day I passed the elusive intersection and for the first time in 2 years I felt absolutely nothing. No twinge, no flip in my tummy, no flutter in my heart and no tears in my eyes. It was weird and I thought perhaps something was wrong or that I had gone completely over the edge and would not return.

     It's been 4 weeks since things came to a boiling point. I planned a weekend away to visit a friend to avoid the pain that the end of September would bring. I knew it was coming and all week I tried to remind myself that I was okay and had already come so far. My trip was cancelled because as usual God has my life in his hands. The weekend went off without a hitch, publicly. We did a skit at church which consumed my Friday through Sunday. No time to sit and and brew, or so it seemed. The skit was fantastic and I was so very proud of those kids who cracked me up for the last 3 days. While inside I was literally holding on by a thread.

     The following Tuesday was the end of an era for me. My girl, Ziva David from NCIS, was making her final exit from the one thing I could zone out on. The one thing I have relied on for the last 18 or so months to take me somewhere else and forget about life for an hour or 7 depending on the day ;)
Ziva had been MIA and Tony was on a mission to find her. He looked for months and followed every lead, after all he loves her and wasn't going to give up. He finally finds her in the home she was born in. Ziva is in a state of confusion. She knows what she needs to do and her present has just met her past. We find out through conversation, and Tony's backtracking, that Ziva is on a journey to discover who she really is and what she really wants in her life.

     I've realized in the last few weeks that I have lost 2 years of my life following and hanging on to a dream that I wanted, my plan. It's been made clear that my plan is not and never was God's plan. I lost that little girl who was so excited about life and touching the lives around me so they could see the light and joy inside of me and want the same for themselves. That little girl was a beast. She was so very strong and she kept me going. She would see a situation that could potentially crush me and SHE would know exactly what to do. 2 years ago SHE would've walked away. I took us down this path and ended up drowning in my own plans.

     It never ceases to amaze me how God can say the same thing to me over and over through so many different channels and I will straight up ignore it, especially when I need an answer. So my Jesus who is remarkably creative answered every one of my questions in a 4 minute conversation between Tony and Ziva. He wanted her to come back and start over again with him. Her response was plain and simple. "I have been running from all this and trying everything I can to figure it out. The center of all this pain is me. It's who I made myself. It's not who I wanted to be" with that I broke down.
That is the answer I have been looking for all this time. All of my "God WHY's" and "How can you let this happen" and "What did I do wrong"
It was none of that. It was me the whole time. I made myself this person. This hateful, angry, bundle of tears and anxiety. At the core was me.

     I've known for months that I need to start over. I didn't. I couldn't. I needed to walk away. I am the only one who has been bearing this cross. Put it down, stupid. Too easy.

     I went to visit my friend Barbara the weekend following Ziva's exit. She has just lost her husband of 33 years. The most amazing man in the world. Our stories do not compare, but oddly enough our pain and quirks about things do. I knew God had planned that trip for this reason. I have no right to act this kind of fool because what I am truly mourning is something that was in my head, my plan, my idea. I was extremely grateful for the 2 days I spent with this incredible woman. I came home from Longmont a changed girl. I knew I felt different after my NCIS breakdown but this just clarified it for me.

     I was left thinking clearly and weighing two options: I either let go of everything or I disappear. The jury has been out for quite some time on this issue and the verdict has been handed down: I WILL NOT disappear. That cross I was bearing was thrown out on the highway never to be picked up again.
I can finally and with all confidence say I AM ALL DONE!

         At the end of the show came the big tearful goodbye. Tony gives Ziva one more chance to come back and start over with him. She declines. He says "This is the hardest 180 of my life" That part almost killed me. This last 180 was the worst but I am here. I have been waiting for about a month to write this blog just to make sure it was not a whim. It's not. I am breathing, in and out. No chaos, no crying til 4 in the morning. No desire to lay on the couch and pretend I don't exist. I do exist and for the first time in a year I want to exist.

This girl is okay and will continue to be okay. Thank God!!!

Anyone up for the "Glad Game"?

   

Tsunami

     I'm struggling so hard today. This stupid battle between my head and my heart is so intense. I feel like this battle is constantly waging. Some days I handle it like a true princess with my head held high and a sweet smile. Then there are days like today, that just seem to attack me from every angle. If I could keep my heart out of it I could just walk right out of this like the strong independent girl I know I can be.

     There is a barrage of questions that flood my mind as soon as there is a moment of quiet. Sometimes the flood is a collection of one silly thing after the other just tumbling down the sidewalk, nothing dangerous. Then there is the Tsunami that comes without warning and leaves nothing but a trail of scattered thoughts, streaming tears and a restless heart. This is what has been building up the last couple weeks. Today is the point of impact.

     On the outside it's a simple minor league baseball game. I love baseball. The Sky Sox will lose cause they can't play. I'll pay $4 more for a Pepsi than necessary and probably eat some over priced poorly prepared food. It's baseball, this is expected.

     I know what you're thinking. Tsunami? Over baseball? Dramatic much, princess?
No. if you've been following this blog you know there's always something underlying. It's not just a baseball game. I've been anticipating and dreading this day for a while. The last game was amazing. I discovered Jake Elmore, cute and a great player (obviously not a sox) Literally one of the best days of my life. The game was rained out, no fireworks....sounds lame right? Not at all, truly the best day ever!

     I'm going with a group of people I absolutely adore. I love these girls! I feel safe and comfortable with them, with that being said I wouldn't have attempted this without them. They have no idea how this will or won't affect me or the reasons behind the drama. I am determined to do this and have fun no matter what. The part I will dread are the moments I drift off somewhere else. Most likely spouting off sarcastic quips about the sky sox but still somewhere else.

     It's those moments, in those seats, that the flood gates will burst.
Questions will start flying like foul balls (especially if the sox are up) things like: What did I do wrong? Why wasn't I good enough? Didn't I try hard enough? Should I have lost more weight? Cried less? Loved more? Is it possible that I am that unremarkable to not leave any kind of impression in someone's life? All of this time and it still doesn't make any sense. What happened? Why this and why that?

     I won't have a terrible time, I've learned to balance it. Baseball, Pepsi, friends and fireworks!!!! There's no way I'm going to let this outwardly affect my time with others i love. I know that inside this battle will rage like a mother. But I WILL have a great time. And at the end I will be exhausted........ But I'll survive and then tomorrow will be another day.....and I'll survive that day too. I will keep on doing this because that is what princesses do.

Yours truly,
Princess Ria

Puzzles

Everybody's life is a puzzle.

There's so many pieces that make up one's life. But there are people who are missing pieces. You see them in the street and you'll never know. They go through life, everyday, as if they have all the pieces and nobody ever knows differently. Its not everybody's business. You don't have to tell everybody about the pieces that you're missing if, in fact, you are missing pieces. You can just look at some people and know that pieces are missing.

Your pieces can be anything: family, marriage, a job you loved, people taken too soon or people who don't belong in your life that are wearing you down. Everybody is missing something. I know that in Christ I am whole. I know that He fills my heart I know that He supplies all of my needs. He is my best friend. He is everything that I need I'm fully aware of this fact but, I'm also fully aware of the fact that I have pieces that are missing.

I have an amazing family. I work with wonderful people. I love what I do even though it's messy and my back hurts and sometimes the babies are crazy. But at the end of the day I still know I have pieces that are missing.

It's been almost a year give or take a couple weeks. Some days it still feels like yesterday packing up the truck, tears that said goodbye and looking straight into the unknown. I thought that I'd be further along by now. I thought I could fill my life with other things. Some days it works, some days it's an epic fail. It seems like the days I try really hard to clear my mind its nothing but clutter, a horrible scene from Hoarders. It's ridiculous and I don't even get one of those professional organizers to clear the clutter. Some days my head is a mess and some days I'm completely fine but even on days when I'm fine I'll see someone or I'll hear something and I'll remember my pieces.

Have you ever done a huge puzzle and lost one piece? You think "there's a thousand pieces, I only lost one" Then that's all you notice. The one piece that you can't find anywhere.

I wish I could get passed the pieces and just continue with the puzzle but I know when the whole thing is complete I'll still see the missing piece and the whole picture is ruined.

That's where I've been for the last couple weeks. I have everything that I could need. So I step back and look at the picture and all I see are the two missing pieces. They don't know they're missing. But I do.

I don't know why this keeps happening. I try so hard to let go and move forward. I've been trying for quite some time to just walk away and leave this in the past. But it keeps coming back, mostly smacking me in the face. It's to the point where I can't tell who exactly is giving me this test. Is there unfinished business? Do I just keep walking? Do I stop and try to figure it out? Do I squash and run?

Like I said its been almost a year. I've tried all of those things and still the confusion mounts up as if this is brand new. Most people, myself included, would see this, squash it like a bug, and keep walking. I thought I did squash it like a bug.

My head thinks logically. It knows this is bull. It squashes, it keeps going. My heart on the other hand is a completely different story. It's as if someone else is in control. This is not the first time I've dealt with a broken heart. I'm a quick healer. I brush myself off and I keep up with the pack. This is the first time in my life where none of the tried-and-true remedies seem to work.

I don't know what all this means and I don't know why it won't go away. I don't know what to do about it.

I also know it's not my job to know. My only requirement is to be still and know that God is in control and it's in His hands. So when all the confusion and all the pain and all the tears flood my simple mind. I'm reminded that someone greater is in control. Some days the fire gets hotter than I can handle but I also know that I'm not in the fire alone. It's that simple thought that reminds me no matter what the outcome, no matter how many missing pieces, this little princess will make it out of the fire holding her Jesus's hand.