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.

Wednesdays Child is full of Woe

Disclaimer: I am writing this with a furiously broken heart and I will not apologize for anything that seems harsh or un-princess like!  

     I was going to write this blog last night because for some reason, no matter what I do to clear my mind and stay in the present, the past creeps in like an undetected disease. But, I pulled myself together and said "this is a moment that will pass and you won't be as angry tomorrow" and then....... it was Wednesday. It was actually a pretty good day. I was in the present, which has it's own issues. For example, counting pennies to keep my budget and the lady at Costco says I can't purchase anything until I renew my membership. My eyes fill with tears as I hand over money I don't have. Blah blah blah, a churro and a Pepsi smoothed that wrinkle. 

Then sure as I'm breathing the past walks right up to me and sucker punches me in the throat.
     A few years ago I became reacquainted with a childhood friend.  He worked with us at my parent's restaurant. We became fast friends. Best friends as we called each other. Let me explain what that meant. He knew me better than I knew myself. We were connected at the hip. We would finish each other's sentences we would know the punch line to the other's wise crack before it was said. My mom made this yummy blueberry cream pie at the restaurant, I didn't like the blueberries so he would eat them and I would eat the custard cause he didn't like it. One piece of pie, two happy kids! Things like this. I'd never known anyone who was so much fun and so amazing to be with. We were never in love. This was the true definition of best friends. I loved every minute of it. 

     I've mentioned before that my life was going through major changes inside and out in the beginning of 2008. God was doing some intense cleansing and I was a wreck, literally. My only solace, this friendship. In the midst of this God breathed chaos my best friend sends me a text to meet at Starbucks. Yay, just what I need coffee and my bff. 

     Let's go to Starbucks shall we?........ We sit, we chit chat about nonsense and out of the blue my very best friend in no uncertain terms says "Maria, you need to find a new friend"   What the *$%#???   Talk about a shot through the heart. No reasoning was given. Just that he was going in a different direction and I shouldn't let myself get "all upset about it" then he said, because he knows me so well, "I know you're gonna get in your car and fall apart" ummm thank you???
     And that was it, the end of the fairytale friendship. Except for a few awkward texts of how fabulous his life was and one very uncomfortable photo session to jump start his business, we were history.
     
     I have only shared this story with two people because I was so ashamed of how it ended and with no explanation it sounds like I must've done something so ridiculously unforgivable. It was only recently that my sister had the courage to ask what happened. 

     Fast forward to a couple hours ago in the Costco cafe. This previous bff walks up with a huge smile and greets my family and myself. Of course, it was expected that I greet him. We do the usual "its been forever how are you and the family?" That's what princesses do, they put on a smile give a big hug and act genuinely concerned about your life. Here I was, completely crushed on the inside and totally collected on the outside. I was blown away by the fact that this is the exact situation that came up last night and made me want to write a blog. That 4 minute interaction took so much out of me I had to take a bath to relax my body. 

     Here's the part that ends me every time something like this happens. This man expected me to just greet him with open arms and speak with him as if nothing has ever happened. "We're Christians, forgive and forget, let bygones be bygones, we're adults now, come on" My response to all of that Are you EFFING kidding me? What gives you the right to treat someone else like that? Who the hell are you that you think you can take someone's heart, use the pieces you need, smash the rest and toss it out the window while I am standing in your dust with no understanding? What kind of person does that? Your history is not me. I am not that person and I do not deserve the funnel effect of the hurt you were caused. 
     
     I can hear my mother right now "life goes on, let this go, it was forever ago, you don't even see each other" I see her point. This one event changed me forever.  I pushed it down and covered it up with "the glad game" and rainbows and pixie dust. But it has always been there and until recent months was never thought of. But history repeats itself and here I am blogging about my sad life. Boo-hoo, blah blah, shut up, silly girl! 
     
    I am who I am.  I have NEVER been different. I am real I am honest and I am a great friend. But I have feelings and I am not a machine. You can't just take advantage of people and use them so you feel better all the while convincing them that you are friends. I do not just become friends with people for this exact reason. In the rare instance that I do make the effort to be your friend it's because I think you are worth it and worth this possible outcome. No matter how I am treated I could never be that person to spit in your face and stomp on your heart.  I could never deal with the guilt of knowing I am the reason for someone's broken heart. I cannot believe the effing audacity that I am expected to just be okay and be happy to see you. 

     It's not fair. This is the reason I say that I don't need people. Let me clarify, I need people and I treat people in my life with respect, whether you deserve it or not. What I don't need is more heartache and memories turned into a heap of pain that comes up when it's convenient for you to make a scene and prove what a fabulous person you are sacrificing your really great reputation to associate with the likes of me. You made it clear I mean nothing and you never needed me. Got it, loud and clear don't hurt yourself falling all over who you've become. I was there day in and day out. Sharing your hurts, drying your tears. No one else cared. 

     I am not a heartless wretch and I have never understood why it is okay for people to treat me as such. If you are in my life I am truly grateful for your presence and perhaps this will explain my need to keep you at arms length. I love going out and being with friends when I actually follow through, but I will almost always cancel or postpone because I cannot handle more "oh my god I love hanging out with you, you're so fun" and then radio silence. 

     Alayna always makes fun of me for my fascination with the friendship of Tony and Ziva on NCIS and whenever something happens and even when they are just in the same screen shot she says "don't cry Maria, are you gonna cry?" She's joking, I know. But that relationship, the true friendship that is portrayed is what I get emotional about. I've never seen it displayed outside my own experience. So when I get all teary eyed it's because I know what it was like and I long to grasp just a piece of that without sacrificing everything inside of my being. 

     If you don't plan on staying then don't bother coming. I am not a revolving door. 

Shrapnel

This is a true account of my crazy life from last November. It was exclusive to Facebook but is now global.

This is not blog worthy but way too long for a status update.  That being said it is completely worth your time.

If you've been around me for the last couple months you know that I have had absolutely no desire to voluntarily leave the house.
Today being Thanksgiving we decided to go to the movies, something new, sounded fun.
I stopped in the restroom prior to the previews.  In the stall next to me I hear a huge pop and see a bottle roll under the wall....Someone has tried to sneak alcohol into the theatre...dun...dun...duuunnnnn. No big deal I continue and am about to exit the stall when I hear a bigger pop and see another bottle roll. The second pop was followed by a spray of wine at my feet. This woman, who obviously can't hold her liquor (get it?) doesn't make a peep. I wash my hands and return to the theatre.
Moments later I feel something on my leg, I reach down and come up with blood all over my hand. I was hit with shrapnel! I could not believe this was happening. I returned to the bathroom to clean my wound.  The bathroom is empty and glass bottles are strewn about.  The woman didn't pick up her mess. I went to find management, they gave me a bandaid.

So what have we learned:
     1. when your mom says put pants on you should cause you never know when you will be hit with shrapnel in a public restroom.
    2. Maria should not leave the house, cause come on, who gets hit with shrapnel in a public restroom?!??!!

Thank you life for validating my desire to not leave the house.

Snafu

sna•fu [sna-foo, snaf-oo]
— noun
1. a badly confused or ridiculously muddled situation

     Some days are good days.....most days are good days. Then there are days like today. I don't feel like I should have these kinds of days. I should rise above. I should see it coming and smash it to the ground. Well, today it smashed me.
    
     Now if you were with me today or spoke to me you were not aware of this event. Why? Cause I'm cool like that and made the decision a long time ago that this is my own private battle. I'm pretty fun to be around and no one needs to deal with me not being me. Let's face it, I'm hilarious and the world needs my jokes! 
    
     I have been back and forth with this thing and I just do not understand why I can't do this. I want so badly to leave this behind and run like the effing wind in the other direction. This was the argument I had with God before breaking down in the shower. It's crazy and unnerving how one thought can bring pure elation and at the same time, absolute devastation. I am so done and at the same time, so stuck.
    
     I feel like that is where the battle is. If it's done and over I should be done and over with it. Right? It's done. It's over. The signs were clear. They were everywhere, everyday. Then why the overwhelming confusion? Why the chaos in my head? Why the constant pull in my heart? Why the tears in my eyes? Why are there still all these whys? Enter the snafu.

     I don't know and I don't have any answers. My heart hurts. I am more lucid now then I have ever been. My body is clear of any altering medications. My mind is clear. None of it makes sense. The battle within is that I require things to make sense and I can't make sense of this one thing.
   
     This morning while the battle started to rise up I read this from the Bishop "The time God is really moving in your life may seem to be the lowest moment you have ever experienced. Most believers think that God works when the blessing comes. That’s not true! God is working on you, your faith and your character when the blessing is delayed" It was a gentle reminder and by reminder I mean slap in the face that I am exactly where God wants me to be. 

     My Jesus has such a funny way of bringing things around full circle. A few months ago I wrote a blog called "Aht lo leh-vahd" which at the time, turned me into a puddle of tears and mess. This morning I was catching up on the NCIS that I missed on Tuesday. There is a tense moment between Tony and Ziva where she says " I buried my father it was a moment of weakness I felt all alone" and Tony says "maybe my Hebrew translates differently because I specifically remember telling you that you were NOT alone" Open the floodgates, this girl lost it. There are moments of absolute chaos where I "feel" like I am all alone. Those moments are dark and terrifying. My mind and my heart are in two completely different places. My mind is logical, my heart is whimsical and completely illogical.  God knows my heart, He knows my hurt, he sees all of those tears that I hide from everyone else during "The Maria Show" He knows that I let the dark consume me. That's my human nature. At no point, in any of this, have I been all alone. That is the power of one's mind. It can convince you of anything and I always fall for it. 

     These days it doesn't take much to fall into it. Some days I don't even have to trip into it, some days I jump! I am NOT alone. At the lowest points, when I am physically alone and think there is no way it will ever change, My Jesus is right there. His loving arms are wrapped around this heap of chaos. Even when I don't acknowledge His presence it is there and He is there holding on and waiting for the darkness to pass. 

     It was a beautiful day but inside there was such a storm raging. This little boat was being tossed all around. I drowned it in Pepsi (which by the way was not a good idea). I vacuumed the crap out of the carpets and scrubbed my car like I was cleaning up a crime scene. I did all of this to avoid dealing with the chaos. It was the reminder of what TD Jakes said that stopped the tossing of this little boat. 

     God is moving in my life. He IS doing a work that, for the moment, is unseen. My job is to sit back and trust the unseen. I can see a lot of things and believe them but true faith is trusting in the unseen. It will still be a battle but my partner will always be right there holding my hand reminding me aht lo leh-vahd. He is my one true best friend and He will always do what is necessary to protect me. 

     I will leave you with this. This is part of a song from the band Shane and Shane. It perfectly encompasses where I am

Though You slay me, 
yet I will praise You
Though You take from me, 
I will bless Your name.    

Mommies

Tomorrow is mother's day and this morning over a bowl of Farina (aka cream of wheat) I realized how much my mother has done for me. Farina? Really?

Let me explain, for the last 3 decades any time I have farina I only eat the outer sides til I get to the bottom. This morning I was wondering why. Then I remembered that when I was little my Momma said "do it like this cause the outside is always cooler" DONE. Set in stone, always has been always will be.
There is so much of my momma in me whether I know it or not and it comes out in little things like this. She is an incredible woman. She loves Jesus, she loves her family and she never expects anything in return except for maybe a banana split. I can only hope one day to be half the woman that she is. My Momma is so strong and never gives up. I have so much respect for this woman I cannot believe how lucky I am to have her all to myself. She loves me unconditionally and makes me laugh like no one else can.

Speaking of lucky, I have been so very fortunate to have more than one mommy in my life. My Aunt Rosie is literally my other mother. She has always been the balance of motherhood for me. My auntie has always treated me like I was her's and there's no better feeling. She is the comic relief that is needed in life and she is somewhat magical to the little girl inside who see's her as a fairy godmother always putting a smile on my face and loving me with out condition. I love her to pieces!

Speaking of pieces, My Aunt Mary provided pieces that no one else can and no one else will. My Auntie met me when I was 9 and she did a great job of closing that gap like it never existed. She is my movie buddy. Without her I would have never known what really happened to Jack and Rose and one day he's gonna get on that door and float to safety with Rose! She has such a sweet disposition and I get so excited whenever I see her face!

Speaking of fairy Godmothers there is my Parrina. The angel in my life. This woman was a superhero as far as I was concerned. She would hit me with a shoe from around the corner and always have candy hiding in her apron for me. She had more love in her little body than anyone else in the planet. If you've never had a Parrina you have missed out on having an angel here on earth. I miss her terribly but I love that sometimes I can be compared to her.

Speaking of missing them terribly, there's my grandma's. These women could not be more opposite from each other. But Lord knows I need balance and he gave it to me with these ladies.

My Grandma Josie lived with us almost my whole life. She was the life of the party even if she was just at the bank. She knew everyone and everyone knew her and I was proud that she was MY grammie!

My Grandma Rose did not live with us so going to her house was always like getting a prize. She did so much to make our visits special. She just loved to watch the chaos that 5 children running through her little house could cause. She was always open for hugs and kisses from all of us all the time. I buy ivory soap just to keep her memory with me all the time.

I strive to be everything that these women have contributed to my life. God has blessed me immensely with these women and I don't know what I did to deserve them but I am so grateful for each of them.

Thanks Ladies!
I love you so very much!
Happy Mother's day!

All Done? Not yet

Disclaimer: This blog will be a pathetic-boohoo-my life is so sad-story. I know there are serious tragedies occurring at this moment. Just so you know, this has nothing to do with them.

     Have you ever seen the movie "Stranger than Fiction"? It stars Will Ferrell who becomes the main character in a story that is being written. He has no idea what is going on but there is constant narration in his head and its both humorous and deep. Some days I feel like someone else is writing this story of my life only the author in my head is a bit of an idiot and we have the same day over and over. 

     This morning during church I was crying, again. Boohoo, I know. At one point I looked straight up to the roof and in my head I was like "really? can you make this stop?" I am just to the point where I am all done with this crying. For me it is a sign of weakness and I effing hate that I cannot control it. I cannot tell you what year I moved back into my parents house but I can tell you the exact day that I started crying and give or take 3 or 4 days it has been non-stop since July 18, 2012. Pathetic? I know. I am not putting down people who cry, it's natural it's normal but for me it is not okay, mostly because I don't understand why it starts and I cannot make it stop. Control issues, much???

     The last few weeks have been overwhelming. I am on the worship team at church and I love it because all I wanna do is sing. It appears that whenever we have practice (thursday's) or perform (sunday's) Those are the days that are the worst for me. This last week I was asked why I was always so angry during practice. To which I, in all humility mind you, snapped and said I am NOT angry. Well played, Maria, well played. This last Thursday I came to practice in tears and proceeded to sing on and off due to the incessant tears flowing. In my effort to keep it cool I come off as angry. I know this, can't seem to fix it. 

     Here it is, I am all done being by myself. I am all done taking care of myself. I am all flipping done! This is where it gets pathetic......I have always been just fine being Auntie Ria, or the big sister, or Joe and Sina's daughter. It's an honor to be any of those things and I love every thing that I am to all of these folks. 

     For 12 minutes last summer I was finally somebody else's, not really, but in my head I was. I was happy. I was the prettiest girl in town and someone loved spending time with me. As all houses made of straw are this one, too, blew right down with the slightest breeze and it was over as quickly as it began. I am still not sure what part of it I am mourning. Was it the 6 second fairytale ? Was it the fact that someone wanted to be with me? Was it that I created a make believe world that only I dwelled in? I don't know. 

     Here's what I do know, I was very independent. I would see couples and think "oh that's cute, but I'm fine" I was fine..... until I got mine. It's like my recent kettle corn discovery.  My life was just fine before it and I could swear up and down I wasn't missing out until I tried it then I don't know how I lived without it. (That was a stretch, but I've never tried drugs so it had to be the corn)  There is something that tugs at your heart when you are standing shoe-less in the pouring rain and someone is holding their hand out waiting for you to grab it. Again, fairytale-esque but pretty breath taking even after all this time. It's funny how little thoughts still take my breath away, no matter how angry I am.

This is where the pathetic part stops........

     This morning the pastor was referring to our lives as books. The question was posed "if you shut the book today and stopped reading your story what would your life look like?" Well it would be absolutely pathetic. 35 years later, living in my mom's basement and taking my parent's for a road trip to get gas on a Friday night. (Don't get me wrong, I love my parents and we have a fabulous time doing whatever we are doing) the pastor continued and asked "have you forgotten who you are?" this is the point where the tears started. I have no idea who I am. My identity is no longer standing out. It blends in with my surroundings and is clouded with confusion. After the summer I did just stop reading my story. I don't want this to be where my book ends. God is still writing and here I am not participating. 

     I don't wanna toot my own horn, but I am an amazing friend. If you've met me since July you will know that what I just said is a crock. I seem to be apologizing to everyone I know for my erratic behaviour. I used to be so cool. I feel like I'd be hard pressed to convince anyone of that now. I am not feeling sorry for myself. I am recognizing that there is this valley I am walking through which has changed me and made me question everything I know. Through this whole thing I have not felt sorry for myself, I am not like that. I am just struggling to figure out where the really cool, super fun, dorey-like girl is. I am not fishing for affirmation, also something I don't need. I am just stuck in this muck, if you will. 

     I hate moths. If there is one blocking my path to a destination, I will stay put until it moves. It's quite humorous in the summer when all three of us girls are screaming in the kitchen at 1:00 am over a tiny moth taking flight. The pastor spoke about darkness and how we let it control every part of us. I have been desperately trying to focus on the light but I always drown somewhere around 7:30 or 8. Night time is the worst time for me and only today did I get a glimpse of why. You know that moment where there is a moth in your room but the lights are off and you can hear it? Worst feeling ever.  I just realized today that I let all of this paralyze me just like that tiny moth.  It's a small issue that I can rise above but I always let it suck me in. Then I lay there terrified that I am never going to get anywhere in my life and blah blah blah...enter the tears, my poor pillow. 

     Back to the book, God is still writing my story and some days I am so excited and expectant about the next chapter. It seems that lately I just shut the book and I don't want to read anymore because I am so disgusted with where I have let myself end up. This is part of life and I can't beat myself up about it. I also can't just lay in the dark and let the moth control my movements. 

     I need to open the book and actively participate in what God is doing without going back and reading only the chapters that made me happy. Because all of it, from the beginning is what has made me who I am and really, I am pretty awesome, but,  I'm also really lost and confused. 

     I am constantly reminded of being still and knowing. My Jesus is so patient with me, I do not deserve that. I have pushed and tested the limits so hard but He is still there, still holding out his hand waiting for me to grab it and that is the most incredible feeling. I know He has got to be disappointed in me but He still stands there in the rain, with me, next to me, carrying me or just holding out His hand. I am truly loved no matter how big of a stupid mess I am. My book isn't finished and this is not where it will end. I do have hope for the future and am working on not letting my current circumstances consume me. 
     God knows what I need and He will eventually get to the chapter where I have a live-in moth killer and the night time will be something to look forward to rather than dread. 
     
     I am loved, I am blessed. I am still and I know. 

Worn

This morning during church I just started crying and proceeded to do so throughout the service. It wasn't the sermon because I hardly remember what it was about. I do remember telling myself to get it together and with every rebuke of every tear, two more fell. Sometimes I cannot control anything!
During the service I read my devotional for the day along with my Joyce Meyer devotional. Both spoke of letting go but knowing that no matter how pressed and crushed you become He is holding your hand and will bring you through. I also happen to be reading a book about letting go and God has been doing quite a work in my heart. I am a wee bit impatient and I prefer things to be done as if taking off a band aid....quickly. Well, this Princess of impatience is learning that it is a process and the tears that I have been holding back and admonishing myself for are all part of this process.  Without the pain the lesson will not be fully understood.
Everyday is a battle, everyday is something else, everyday is progress, but everyday my sweet persistently patient Jesus is holding my hand and progressing with me and at this point that is all that matters.

This song has been my cry and my prayer for quite some time now. 

It's crazy how these words describe my struggle at the moment. 

Sometimes I look in the mirror and this is the look on my face.
Just read the words....I know alot of us can relate to this some days.
The best part about this whole thing is that one day I am going
to look back on this and see that the whole time Jesus never let go of my
hand. He didn't say it would be easy and never promised that we wouldn't
struggle. I am reminded of this with every labored breath and every tear that
I cannot stop. God has reasons beyond comprehension for why we struggle.
The key is to remember who is on the front lines of the battle, it's not you.
He's fighting harder for you than you will ever know! 

Worn 

Tenth Avenue North

I'm tired I'm worn

My heart is heavy

From the work it takes

To keep on breathing

I've made mistakes

I've let my hope fail

My soul feels crushed

By the weight of this world

And I know that You can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That You can mend a heart that's frail and torn

I wanna know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that's dead inside can be reborn

‘Cause I'm worn

I know I need

To lift my eyes up

But I'm too weak

Life just won't let up

And I know that You can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That You can mend a heart that's frail and torn

My prayers are wearing thin

I'm worn

Even before the day begins

I'm worn

I've lost my will to fight

I'm worn

So Heaven come and flood my eyes

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That You can mend a heart that's frail and torn

I wanna know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that's dead inside can be reborn

‘Cause I'm worn

Yes, all that's dead inside will be reborn

Though, I'm worn

I'm worn

Sawdust and Jellybeans

Look at the photo...What do jellybeans, sawdust and a radio have in common? For this little girl those 3 things represent serenity. 

     Weird? Let's take a little trip back in time to Bayshore, New York circa the early 80's.  1112 Nugent Avenue to be exact. This is the house I was born in. The first girl in the Alonge brood. My parents had no idea what they were in for. A princess in every sense of the definition all the good, the cute, and the incorrigible. 

     It was the best house in the whole world.  In the backyard we had an area with just dirt that my brother John played in for hours, creating the most imaginative cities and bridges for his matchbox cars and GI Joe's. In the center we had flat stones creating a baseball diamond for my brother Joe to practice on. Behind the ball field was the greatest swing set ever created. My grandpa (who lived downstairs) would push me on the bench seat til I pretended to fall asleep. Why pretend at 3? Because then my grandpa would scoop me up in his arms and carry me inside. I loved that guy! Behind the swing set a chain link fence protecting us from what we called "the woods" There are rumors that I climbed the fence in bare feet to defy the rules, I don't believe it. On the other side of the yard, our above ground pool. Me and the boys were very rarely inside. 

     Out front we had trees for climbing in the summer and endless amounts of leaves for jumping in during the fall. At one point there was a light post in the middle of the yard. There is an old legend that my mother tied a 25 foot dog chain to one side of the pole and on the other end was me. 

     All of this made it an amusement park of endless fun and activity. But my most favorite part of the entire property was a workshop my dad built on the side of the garage. My dad is a carpenter. To me that was the greatest occupation my dad could've had. I watched him build cabinets and transform kitchens. I realize it was a lot of hard work but he made it look effortless.  His skills are just fabulous. No one was better than my dad. 

     Now what does this have to do with the photo? In the center of my dad's shop was a table saw, under that table was a huge pile of sawdust. On a shelf he had a radio similar to the photo and he ALWAYS had a bag of jelly beans in the shop. I would spend hours in his shop when he was working. His radio was always set to the oldies station. The sound of the saw was like music to me I could listen to it forever. I would sit close enough to the table to play in the sawdust but far away enough to not get whacked with a 2x4. I loved sitting with my dad when he worked. He always let me eat his jelly beans and sing along to jailhouse rock. Besides sneaking a free ride in the arms of my grandpa, this was my favorite place to be. 

I was the happiest little girl and when I say these three things mean serenity it's because there is not any other experience in my life that I can recall that made me quite so content and peaceful. I didn't have a care in the world when I was in my dad's shop. I was his princess and he was my superhero carpenter daddy! 

     Recently, it's moments like this that I cling to. I've never been here before. It seems like I am in some crazy alternate universe. Where everything is going on around me but I just can't believe that this is my life. Not that I am saying I hate my life cause I don't. There are just too many times during the day where I am literally going through motions as if at the end I will be transported to my real life. It's hard to explain but I just feel like I don't fit anywhere. Of course, I belong to my family and love every minute of that chaos. Like I said it is hard to explain I just can't put it into words. Is there a time where I am not feeling this way? Yes, when I am asleep. This is why I try to go to bed as early as socially acceptable. I need to shut off the chaos in my head. The endless questions, the crying out to God at 4 in the morning for just a second of peace and understanding. This is also why I haven't slept well in almost 3 months. My plans are usually foiled. There is a quote I read, of course, now that I need it I can't find it but it goes something like this "Don't let the dark steal what God has promised you in the light" Nighttime is the most agonizing time of the day for me. This quote is repeated constantly in my head. 

     This is when I go back to the shop and the smell of the sawdust, the sounds of the saw, the music floating over the scream of the wood, and the taste of the jellybeans. Nothing could touch that little Princess, she was invincible. Only now, if that little girl could see the mess that I made of our peace and contentment she would be devastated.  I know this is only a season. I know that I know my God has me in His Hands.  I know He has got a plan that my cynical heart and worn soul cannot see today. But it's not for me to see, it is for me to trust. It is for me to believe. If my life was sawdust and jellybeans all the time I would not know the full and precious blessing of trusting a God I cannot see but, knowing that He's got me. I don't deserve this unwavering, unconditional, and constant love. I am the biggest flip flop I know. No matter what I say to myself, no matter how many tears I cry, no matter how worked up I get myself I just call out His name and I am immediately snapped out of it. Mind you, in 2 or 3 minutes I float right back into it. He knows and just like my Grandpa used to scoop me up and carry me in the house, my Jesus is doing the same. He loves this flip flopping, unstable little girl.  He knows what's on the other side of this and it is that single thought that brings me back to reality.

     It's an amazingly treacherous journey but I look up at Him and grasp His hand even tighter and we are going to make it up this mountain together. I cannot wait to see the view from the top, but until I get there, with every misstep and broken trail my Jesus is holding on to me and re-guiding my steps.

I can't see it but I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that the top of this mountain, the end of this journey will be worth every grueling step. 

Aht lo leh-vahd

     I love NCIS. I can get completely sucked in to a USA marathon of this show and not even realize I've just spent 7 hours watching tv. This last Tuesday was no exception. Ziva's father was killed last week and this week my girl was out for revenge. Of course everyone gathered around to help her through this.
She is from Israel and it is customary to bury your dead within 24 hours. It was these 24 hours that were documented on Tuesday.

Ziva is a very strong, independent girl who does not need anyone's help. She was so very intent on finding out who did this that she did not give herself a moment to grieve. That is how girls like us work. Can you tell why she's my favorite? I am by no means a ninja like assassin but emotionally I relate most to her character. Ziva was put into hiding and under watch of Tony DiNozzo. They have a very tight connection. He cares very much for her but takes a jab as often as possible.
The end of the show is near and while the NCIS office prepares to attend the funeral of the director's wife (killed in the same incident as Ziva's father) Ziva is preparing to return to Israel to properly bury her father.

At the airport Tony knows that Ziva is still in danger and asks her not to go. She states that she must do this. Tony then puts his arms around her and whispers "Aht lo leh-vahd" into her ear. Her eyes well with tears, she pulls away and says "I know" I turn to my momma who knows all things Hebrew and ask what he said and she had never heard it before. I assumed he said 'I love you" and left it at that. You then see the parallel of both funerals. Ziva is by herself picking olives at the garden of Gethsemane, praying at the wailing wall, and planting a tree. While her coworkers are together at an outdoor service. A beautiful song is playing called "Not Alone" my mother is in tears and I just thought it was a great episode. The next day at work, I look up what it was that Tony whispered to Ziva. I Googled it: Aht lo leh-vahd means you are not alone. To which I turn into a puddle. Texting my mom through tears about this revelation. It brought an entirely different spin on what I had seen the night before.

Long story even longer....I hadn't seen my sister Lisa since Sunday, it is now Thursday. I just had to tell her about the show. I start to speak and immediately tears are flowing uncontrollably from my face. I don't do that, least of all about tv shows. So I'm crying and in my head I know why but it also struck me as funny so I was laughing so hard, as was Lisa, at my unusual display of emotions. I get to the point where I am about to say what Tony said and even in Hebrew I couldn't get it out. Crying even harder, I cannot say "you are not alone" my sweet momma tried to help by writing it down but I was just a mess. I was trying to put myself back together and now Lisa wants to watch the episode. My father obliges and finds it on demand. I hear it from the other room and realize that I hadn't seen the first minute or two of the episode. Ziva is in a chapel praying and talking to God. She said "Why? Why should I not be angry? Why should I have faith in you? Show me a sign that I should not lose hope" Standing behind her is Tony. With that this girl folded and went to bed.

So now onto the tears.....I am very strong and very independent. I don't need anyone and I never really have. As my boys Simon and Garfunkel put it ...I am a rock, I am an island. That worked out just fine til July when being a rock and an island was no longer what I wanted. My mindset had changed and I was definitely okay with not living a life of solitude. Then, of course, the hammer came down and it all evaporated just as quickly as it came.
I have been safe inside my aloneness for quite sometime. Until the plates shifted, I never thought going back to who I was would be so difficult. The person in my life that calmed the chaos and re-centered me was now gone. My Tony if you will, the one who, when I was losing a grasp on things would sit beside me and calm the waves, was now gone. I wasn't asking for help it was just who he was, it was just being there that made it calm. I have always had my family and I know that they love me and they are here for me along with some extremely close friends. But since it all went away I have never felt more alone then I have in the last 4 months. So when I didn't understand what Tony whispered to Ziva it was okay cause I know he loves her and he just wanted to calm her nerves so he learned something sweet in her language to help the situation. On Wednesday when I learned what he really said it struck a piece of me that I cannot shut off. "You are not alone" I've heard it a million times I've said it a lot, but it has never been so close to me as it is right now. When I was telling the story I was bawling because I am so alone I have never felt this way and never had any reason to feel this way. Tony is not here whispering in my ear. It's just me.

I am not a sullen faced poor me person. I put on a very good show. This is no one else's issue. So no one needs to intervene. This is a journey it's all part of the plan. I know who my real "Tony" is and he is whispering Aht lo leh-vahd in my ear everytime the tears well up. I know He's in control and there is literally nothing I can do and that is right where I need to be. Full reliance on the One who truly has control and will never leave me staring at tail lights. My problem is patience, not disbelief. If it weren't for my Jesus I can assure I would not be here. His grace is what I am floating on and when my thoughts and my brain and my heart disturb the calm waters, He puts His loving arms around me and reminds me Aht lo leh-vahd. Even though this needs to happen 43 times a day. He is there...always.

Aht lo leh-vahd

Be still and know

Be Still and Know..........

These four words have been a constant throughout my adult life.
No matter what sort of chaos or trouble I seem to find myself in there is a moment when I finally shut up and hear these words.

My Jesus is very, very patient. Persistently patient.
I like to be in control.  Not like crazy, psycho, controlling, hose beast. I just feel like if something is not going the right way I need to step in and fix it. I can get things back in order and under control. Now there are certain circumstances where this comes in handy. For instance, 8 screaming babies and 2 frazzled teachers, I got it. I thrive in chaotic situations I can do it.  Unfortunately my "I,I,I" mentality is not always useful, in fact, it's quite the stumbling block for this Princess. If you know anything about my sense of balance or, let's call it, lack of gracefulness you know the last thing I need is an actual block in my path =)

I am Italian, strike that, Sicilian. I come from a very long line of very loud family. The term "be still" is only relevant if a spanking is approaching. Controlled chaos is my playground. I say "controlled" because I know exactly how to deal with it and if I don't I will figure out a way. So here's the part where God sits back and chuckles at the Princess who's "got this".

There have been many times where my life was turned upside down and I say to God "I will wait" after a couple weeks, days, sometimes hours, the Princess states to the creator of the universe "Don't worry I know you're busy, I got this" So He humors me and lets me fumble around Forrest Gumping my way in and out of what I think "I got this" means, then comes the part where this girl realizes she is running around in circles. I find a moment of solace and in that moment I hear a sweet whisper "Be still and know"

That happened about an hour ago.  I was singing some sweet worship songs when all of the sudden my mind went bananas with all of the things I supposedly have control of and can, or need to, take care of on my own. My mind cleared and my mouth graciously was shut. A peace came over me and I heard once again sweetly and firmly "Be Still and Know"

Now since I have heard this over and over I know what it means.....right???? I decided it was time to visit the dictionary. I looked up "still" and "know". I am in constant amazement at how God knows the exact thing I need to hear and the words that I need to make these things so clear that it is like being smacked in the face. (I'm Italian remember? we need a little extra push) If you have been close to me over the past couple months you know that my life has been a series of ups and downs, quite turbulent, if you will.

With that said I give you the definitions.
Still; verb - Free from noise or turbulence
Know; verb - To be aware of the truth or factuality; to be convinced or certain of

I read those words and this phrase took on a completely different meaning. If you've been in a plane you know that being free from turbulence is the best feeling ever. He's not just saying be quiet and have a moment's peace. This goes way beyond that. I can be physically still but my mind is in constant turbulence. I can know, but am I truly aware or convinced of the truth? Not til tonight. "Be still and know" sounds pleasant but it is a command, one which I usually blow off. I can sit for hours in silence, yes I can, but I am in no way still as it states above. This is a still that only comes from being in His presence. A still that requires me to know that He is holding my hand, holding it in a way that only He can, holding it to keep me still. It's so simple and at the same time so unbelievably overwhelming that someone loves me to this degree. There is a calming safety in grabbing someones hand and theirs holding back. It is simplistically beautiful and so very comforting.

I am so grateful that I had this moment tonight. I needed it more than I knew I did. So here I am holding the hand of the Daddy who loves his Princess more than life itself. The Daddy who gave his life for this little messed up bundle of chaotic noise. He's holding my hand and I am holding His back. Together we continue this turbulent journey. Only this go round, I know the pilot personally and I know that I know He is in control all I have to do is hold His hand and be still.

I will leave you with this: I have an extraordinary presence in my life and I call him Mike Miller. He has been a saving grace to me through the last few months. The prize in my Cracker Jack box, if you will. He makes me laugh, he makes me cry, he makes me think...he also makes me coffee. I love him to pieces.  Back in the day my Miller was in a little movie called "Air Force One" He is the pilot, the captain of this very important vessel. His job is to get the president safely to his destination. The president knows he is safe in the hands of Colonel Axelrod. Hijackers take over and Axelrod knows of the impending danger and makes all the calls to handle the situation. He knows they are approaching the cockpit faster than they can land the plane. Axelrod turns to his crew and with great valor and authority says to his men "No matter what happens we land this aircraft, is that understood"? There was something about this line that just stuck with me. It's funny how this line comes to me almost as often as "be still and know". I get it now and understand how God puts everything into a perspective only this little Dory can comprehend! No matter what happens my Captain will land this plane and THAT is understood.

Finding Ria

Have you seen Finding Nemo?

Marlin has lost his son and has a mere...well...dingbat to escort him through his journey. They experience so many obstacles. After a glimmer of hope appears in a pair of goggles with an address they still face many obstacles. You can see that Marlin is becoming weary but he must get to his little boy and he still is on the path with the goggles of hope. After they out run a falling ship marlin notices they've lost the goggles to the dark abyss of the ocean. You can hear Marlin lose what little hope he was clinging to. Fish don't sink unless there's nothing left to swim for. This was that moment. He darts down after them but It's too dark, he's just lost what he thinks is his only chance to find his son. Dory, oblivious to the hopelessness, starts singing "just keep swimming just keep swimming just keep swimming swimming swimming what do we do we swim" the last thing Marlin wants to do is keep swimming.

Have you been here? It's a crazy scary place to be. To be perfectly honest I am there right now. On the outside I'm very much Dory. Ask anyone I'm with for more than 30 seconds they can concur. On the inside though, I'm tired of swimming. I'm exhausted. There's too much up and down. I'm supposed to be over my grief. Apparently there's some sort of limit of acceptability to grieving. I'm the first to tell you to get over it and it's just time to get it together. I'm not a wallower, so my exhaustion stems from the continuous fight within myself to put on a good show. I'm a great actress and this is clearly the reason why Hollywood is in the state it's in. This way of life literally breaks you down. I'm not choosing this by any means.

There is unfinished business in my heart and I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is not nearly done with this situation. Naysayers of course are reading this and thinking I've completely lost all sense of reality. But its the mere reality of the situation and not the stubborn strong will of a girl in disbelief that has put me here. I know this is abnormal behaviour but I also know that there is more peace in my spirit when I believe that God has this and it is out of my control. My control consists of running, forgetting the pain and moving the heck away from the drama.

I'm a big girl. I've grown up and I know the difference between sitting in it willfully and being put in a position of waiting. So here I am waiting. Not putting my life on hold. Still living, still doing. My "doing" doesn't have quite the same fervor it used to but I am still doing.

This journey is marked with tears and scraped knees. God knows my struggle. He knows my heart is broken. He knows where every piece fits and only He knows how to put it back together, perfectly, stronger than ever. I never saw myself here. I never knew just how fragile this princess was. This chapter is revealing more about me than I ever knew and a lot more that I never wanted to know.