To all the Single Ladies...

This blog is for you.

In just these last few months of blogging, I have been amazed at the number of women that would write, text, and call with their own experiences and connections to what I was writing. Sometimes we laugh. Sometimes we cry. Sometimes we vent. But the thing is, we connect. In a "coupled" culture, it never fails that conversations with people often turn to dating life. And then one of these (often well-meaning) comments is spoken...

• Still single, huh? (Nope, just hiding my husband in the future.)
• Enjoy singleness while you can, girl. Marriage is hard. (Enjoying it- to the max. Any stage of life is hard.)
• Well, do you want to get married and have kids? (Um... yes, but that doesn't change where I am now.)
• Are you putting yourself out there? (Where exactly am I supposed to put myself? Anyone? Bueller? I mean... I am not a recluse.)

  

  We put ourselves "out there..." Never mind the fact that it was with thousands of crazy women and just a few poor men that took one for the team.  

• Have you tried online dating? (Girl- I have some STORIES for you and that will be saved for blog mini-series.)
• I don't understand why you are still single??? You are sooooo _________________. (Yes, I know. If you figure out why, will you clue a sister in?)
• You have PLENTY of time! Wait... you're how old? Oh.... (Thanks...)
• I have this friend/ cousin/ second cousin twice removed... I think they're still single... (Does he love Jesus? Does he have a J-O-B? Can I see a picture? Bring him on.)
• You go to a big church, don't they have a good singles group. (I am not touching this one...)
• He's out there somewhere... (You found him? Tell me more...)
• The Lord is still working on him for you. (Could you give me a time table?)
• Girl, it will happen when...
• you least expect it. 
• you are totally sold out to the Lord. (What does this mean exactly?)
• you stop searching. (Um, this is not google.)
• you stop looking for the right person and become the right person. 
• Well, not everyone is meant to be married... look at Paul. (Yep. He's legit.)
• Don't be too picky. (Why not? This isn't a dinner choice.)

And many more. (Thanks to all you ladies who contributed to this list. You know who you are and I am thankful for your presence in my life!)

Here is what we know... our friends and family love us and want the best for our lives. These questions and comments often come from them knowing out hearts and desire to one day share our lives with someone. But... these comments and questions often leave us, as single women, unsure of how to answer and respond. And depending on the day, may stir up a wide range of emotions from disappointment, confusion, shame or even anger. I don't know about you, but... Sometimes, I want to walk away without saying a word. Sometimes, I fight back tears and pray for the conversation to end as quickly as possible. Sometimes, I have a snarky remark camped out in my head... that may or may not slip out. Sometimes, I can answer with where I truly am in regards to it all. Sometimes, I want to say, "I don't know. What is wrong with me?" Sometimes, the shame and hurt is more than I can bear. 

Over the years, I have been guilty of saying some of these very things or others that hurt people without me even knowing... and will probably continue to say something stupid from time to time. I have been quick to ask women who are married questions regarding children, with no clue of what is actually happening in their lives- infertility, miscarriages, disagreements between spouses on the subject, or anything else. My words and questions have caused women to feel the same things I have felt, just in regards to her situation. 

Before you get all concerned and worried, know that Christy and I are cracking up as we type this. Christy and I have been dear friends for 14 years. Both of us thought we would be married and have kids before we ever met. Both of us thought for sure we would have met that man at some point in the last few years, but God's plans are not our own... and we are both incredibly thankful for that. Just like in the post "Gift of Motherhood," we can both see how God has worked and continues to work in our lives. When we are faced with questions we don't have the answers to, our hope is that we would look to our Loving Father for guidance, peace, and comfort. His definition of life is not anything we can write on our own and that is a GOOD thing. 

I know without a doubt, that I would not be the woman I am today if my story had played out my way, and Christy feels the same. Yes, we both desire to be married, but we can not live our lives waiting for that to happen or settle for anything less than His best. Our hope is, with each day the Lord gifts to us, that we would seek after Him and serve Him with all of who we are, no matter what the journey looks like down the road- single, married, mom, etc. 

For many of you reading, I know there are parts of your story you don't understand, want to fast forward past, or completely erase altogether. I get it. Know that your story is not on accident. Your story matters and I can't say that enough. I would love to hear your story and know how I can support and pray for you. You are not alone. You are heard, seen, and dearly loved.

The Gift of "Motherhood"

Mother's Day is one that always brings a mixture of emotions- gratitude, joy, longing, hurt, disappointment, love, hope, and so many more. I have spent the past couple of days trying to process how I will put it all into words, and I am not sure it is possible.

As someone that grew up with a baby doll and diaper bag everywhere I went, carting my sweet baby neighbor around on my hip at the age of 9, playing with all the younger neighborhood kiddos as often as possible, deciding I was going to have 4 kids- 3 boys and 1 girl, all with "C" names- by the time I was in middle school, and dreaming of that day I would become a mother for as long as I can remember, I never thought I would be spending Mother's Day in my mid-30s without being a mother to my children of my own. But, here I am.

Each year as this day rolls around, I wonder why this is not part of my story, and with each year that passes, I wonder if it ever will. Over the last couple of years, I have/ continue to wrestle through those questions. And as I have gotten older, I wonder what I would do at this point if it does happen. For those that know me well, you know my love for sleep and free schedules. I have come to learn and appreciate how my plans can not compete with the plans the Lord has for me.

The Lord placed a love for children on my heart from the very start. That has not and will not ever change. I also know the Lord is fully aware of the fact that I do not have children of my own. I know He sees me. I know He hears me. I know He has plans for me. And I know He has allowed me to walk along side so many incredible mothers in my life who have allowed me to love on and cherish her children in a way that I will always treasure- as Aunt Rach, "second" mom, Ms. Rachel, teacher, friend, sister.

Kathryn (sister) and Marlo (sister-in-law)- you ladies mean more to me than you know. It is truly an honor to watch you mother my sweet nieces, nephew, and little Wyatt coming soon. Being an aunt has brought a joy in my life that I did not know existed and I know not all aunts get the pleasure of loving on her nieces and nephews like you have given me the opportunity to do. Thank you for giving me the gift of being Aunt Rach and allowing me to love Emily, Allison, Madelyn, Noah, and Wyatt like my own.

For those of you that have shared your babies with me, thank you does quite communicate what I would like to say to you. You have given me the gift of "motherhood" that I always desired. You have allowed me to love on your babies when they were hurting, laugh with them through the funny moments, share in the joy of "firsts" along the way, encourage them to keep going, cheer for them in their games, competitions, and academics, and simply enjoy the day to day. You share your greatest joy and treasure with me each day and for that I am beyond grateful.

God continues to fulfill that desire to be a mother in ways I could have never pictured as a young lady dreaming of being called mom. I am often asked if I want children of my own. Until last year my answer was always, "ABSOLUTELY." And while my answer is still, "I would love to be a mom..." it now includes "if that is what the Lord has for me. If not, I have many children in my life to love on and pour into."

For many of you reading, I know you relate to what I am saying. I have sat across from you or on the phone with you as you have shared your tears, hurts, and disappointments. For some, you sit in a similar position as I do with a desire to be a wife and mom. For some, you are married and either struggling to have children or at a point where having children of your own may no longer be possible. For others, your story may be one filled with infertility, losing a child, or even experiencing a strained relationship with a child. I don't know what your story holds, but I know your story matters. You are heard. You are seen. You are loved.

To all the moms in my life, you are amazing. Thank you for all you do as you raise up your sweet boys and girls. To all the aunts, friends, teachers, care-givers, sisters- you are just as amazing. The love you give to the children around you is a love that will encourage, lift up, and shape them each step of the way.

That's Not What I Saw

You are probably well aware of the scene and have one similar every morning at your house. You're bopping around, making yourself presentable for being out in public. You've considered your outfit and often tried on a couple of items in an attempt to make the best decision for the day and your comfort. Then there's the hair, the make-up, and the accessories. You do a double-take one last time in the mirror and, on a really good day you think, Yep, this looks cute. On a not so great day, it may be more like, Well, this will just have to do. And you're out the door ready to get on with your day.

Until you get into the sunlight and you notice that things were not quite the way you saw it in the mirror just before you left. As a single lady without someone to check my outfit and appearance before leaving (I realize this could be a good thing and think about things my students used to say about whatever I was wearing. Kids and their brutal honesty make me laugh), this has now happened twice in a matter of days.

Take 1: I was off to run errands with a friend and made the dreaded mistake of looking in the mirror in my car. Ladies, I am sure you can attest to the fact that this is never, NEVER, a good idea, especially on a sunny day. It was in that moment I realized my eyebrows had taken over my face. Literally. Imagine, the start of a Chia Pet. As I searched frantically for my tweezers, I began to wonder how my friends hadn't clued me in on this lovely growth, but that is for another day. It then dawned on me my tweezers were in my mother's car because I was afraid they would be considered a weapon as I went through security at the airport. We all know how pricey a good pair of tweezers can be. Off I went, furry face and all. 

Take 2: This morning, I decided on one of my new dresses from Loft. Dresses and leggings always prove to be comfortable and cute. In my last check before leaving, I was pleased with my outfit and was ready to go. All was great in my not-so-awesome lighting in my apartment. In the sunlight, not so much. What I saw as black in my dress was actually navy. This doesn't prove to be a problem unless you are wearing black leggings and black shoes, of course. I sat in the car and debated on going back upstairs to change. No leggings would have been an option if I had taken the time to shave my legs but I hadn't. Changing altogether involves thought and ironing. Off I went, not matching and all, thankful I would be working in lighting that might hide my mismatched selection. 

Funny, how when we take a closer look at things by just walking into the light, we see something we may not have seen before. This can go either way. Things can look better or not seem so heavy as they did in the darkness. Or what we thought looked pretty good, has some parts that aren't so pretty. I know for me, if I find that I want to hide something- often the stories of shame and unworthiness I have created in my head or sin I just don't want to let go of yet, then I need to bring it to the light. 

There's something freeing in the light. Scripture is filled with references of Jesus being the light in the darkness and turning our darkness into light. Something happens when we are able to see things clearly. Stories of shame and unworthiness seem like absolute truth until I speak them to a close friend and voice them to God. What once felt like truth becomes exposed as a lie, losing its power to hold me captive in the darkness. I have also found myself justifying sins not yet exposed and giving myself excuses for why it was okay... Until it is brought into the open. Then, it is exposed for what it is and whatever justification was once bouncing around in my head, no longer seems like a good excuse. I am beyond grateful for friends that sit, listen, and pray as I have cried and shared my darkness with them. These friends lovingly guide me back to truth through His word and continually shine light into my life. 

The lyrics to "Great Are You Lord" by All Sons and Daughters gets me every time. God gives life. He gives love. He gives light to my darkness. 

I am not sure where you might be today. Maybe you find yourself holding something into the dark for fear others will look at you differently or fear that you know you will need to make changes. I have been in both places. But, I can tell you there is light in the darkness and the light brings about a freedom to be just me, without the lies I tell myself. Maybe you're walking through the darkness with a friend. Keep walking. They need you. Or maybe, you just realized you need to go take care of your eyebrows. Wherever you find yourself, know you aren't alone, darkness doesn't win, and tweezers can work wonders.

And, if I text you a picture of my outfit asking for a second look, please help a sister out and be honest.

Um, who's taking out my trash?

There's something that happens with being single and living alone, you don't ask for help (or maybe it is just me). It doesn't always mean help isn't needed, but more of the fact that help is not readily available. And you are just forced to figure out a way to solve whatever problem or need is there. This being the reason I still live in an apartment- it is just easier and sometimes I just don't want to figure it out on my own. 

As time has gone on, I have found that asking for help becomes more challenging. In fact, it usually takes an ER visit and a surgery to force me to rely on my surrounding community. Yes, this has now happened more than once while calling Houston home. Three years ago, with all the grace and elegance you can imagine, I tumbled down the stairs during a school fire drill... right in front of my students. Unfortunately for all of you, there is no video of this lovely incident... or so I have been told. This resulted in months of me relying on and living with others. While I knew that my friends were amazing, I found out just how amazing they were during this time. 

With crutches and the inability to put weight on my foot, I had NO choice but to accept the help of those around me. Fast forward three years to this lovely appendectomy and asking for help hasn't been as easy. I don't know if it is because I went into "self-protect, I don't need anyone" mode after 2016 or what. I am not even sure I realized I went into that mode until asking for help has once again become a must. And felt/ feels impossible.

Per doctor's orders (not that I have really liked what they've had to say lately), I am not to lift anything heavier than 10 pounds and can only walk for a month. I chuckled as he said this, kept pushing the limits with my What about... questions, and finally gave in when he said he was happy to take care of my hernia surgery when it happens. Insert eye roll. My next question, Um, what about my groceries? Or my purse? Or my work bag? 10 pounds. The end. No more than that. Insert second eye roll. 

Does he realize I live on the second floor, by myself? How am I going to do this? I thought about asking if I could bill his office for my pizza deliveries because that seems to be a good solution to groceries but I decided he was no longer finding me comical. All I could think was, Fine, thanks for the reminder that I have no one to help and I can't do this alone. (Don't worry, I realize that is a bit whiny but just keepin' it real.) 

And I am not sure I believed him until I split my main incision open while at work, doing absolutely nothing strenuous. Got it. Nothing. Insert amazing team at work to save the day and force me to listen to my body and slow down. I have to ask for help. Funny that I have no problem forcing my help on others but hate asking for it. People are busy. They have plenty of stuff to do other than come to my aid. However, I am one that always says, Letting me help is a blessing for me more than you. I am not the best at listening to my own advice. 

I am hoping I learn this lesson because I am over the ER visits and surgeries for a while, even though I know Cindy loves being my ER-DD ;) and we are building a bank of funny memories with each visit. To my friends and family around me, you are amazing and I am incredibly grateful that you are always more than willing to help... if I would just let you. Really, thank you. Even if I could do it alone, you remind me I don't have to and when I can't do it alone, you are there to let me know I always have help available. 

So, now comes the question which lead to tonight's blog... Um, who's taking out my trash? 

Definitely more than 10 pounds. 

Words Hold Power

I am a bit of a word person. Shocking, I know. Reading, writing, speaking, listening. Books, audio books, blogs, song lyrics, poems, podcasts, journals, emails, texts, letters. I obsess over words. Proof of my word obsession can be found in the picture of my recent book purchase. This does not include the four books I am currently bouncing between. Clearly, I also enjoy fresh flowers from HEB.

Over Spring Break, I had the privilege of attending church with my sister and her lovely family at Chapel Pointe in Michigan. This church is very dear to my heart for so many reasons. Being that it was just a few days after surgery, I was planning on simply "sitting" and hugging the necks of sweet friends in between services. That is, until Joel decided to speak on words. And then it was all over.

You see, words have been on my mind for a while now and when forced to rest and slow down, there are countless hours available to get lost in thought. How words are used, the meaning behind them, the hidden meaning that we don't even realize we are throwing out there. My own words. The words of others. Words I wish I hadn't said or written. Words I wish hadn't been said to me. Words I still want to say. Words I long to hear. Words on the pages of books. Words spoken by pastors and authors I respect. Words from my Father, written to me through scripture. Words.

While it is something I know firsthand, as I am sure you do, Joel once again reminded me of the power of words as he taught from the Ephesians and James. Even as I type, memories of words I have used poorly flood my mind. The power to build up or to tear down, to encourage or to hurt, to bring together or to increase division. They hold the ability to bring us to tears through laughter or tears through pain. They can trigger hurt deep within or remind us of the sweetest of memories.

I guess words are so powerful because of our deep longing within to be heard AND understood. Hence the reason things like Facebook, Twitter, and blogging are so popular- we get to "speak" our minds freely. The guest pastor at my church in Houston spoke this Sunday about our desperate need to connect to God and to others. We were created for relationships and not superficial ones. We have a deep desire within us to have someone truly listen and get us and love us even when they know us fully.

When I began the writing journey, my prayer was (and still is) to never hurt anyone through my words, intentionally or unintentionally. Trust me, I have done plenty of that in my life. Those that know me well, know that I have a tendency to replay words in my head over and over and over and over again- I realize this is not usually a good thing, but it is inevitably what happens. This will typically end in me contacting said friend and asking for clarification or in me apologizing for the often idiotic words that flew from my mouth at that moment. That all goes back to the desire to be heard and understood and my desire to hear and understand the people in my life.

In thinking about Joel's teaching on words, I wonder what would happen if we (I) thought more carefully about the words being spoken- verbally or through written text. I wonder what I would actually say if I would ask myself what power I plan on using with these words- the power to build up or tear down. I think we can all agree that there are plenty of words being thrown around at this point in time that are only causing intense hurt, extreme divisions, and more confusion than was there the day before. Facebook can feel like a full on assault if we aren't careful about who we follow and the words we allow into our lives.

Personally, I don't want to add to any of it even though I know there will be times I fail and pray daily for the sensitivity to know when I need to ask for forgiveness. I want my words to bring encouragement, healing, laughter, and life.I want my words to be replayed over and over again in the minds of those like me as good instead of hurtful.  I want my words to show love in the midst of a broken and hurting world.

Blurred Vision

I didn't think twice when the anesthesiologist was running through the possible side effects of the medications being used just before surgery. In my mind, those are always rare and there was a slim chance I would experience any of them. Wrong. Apparently, blurred vision is one of those rare things that I didn't choose to worry about. The words and lines on my phone, books, and computer blurred together in a way that made reading a huge challenge for days following the surgery.  No matter how far away I held the phone or which eye I closed in an attempt to help, I couldn't see it until I enlisted the help of my trusty "readers." Through the lens of the glasses, the text became clear.

In the midst of those few days, I began to think about how my outlook on situations and circumstances is often blurred. Clouded by a myriad of things, past hurt, sin, pride, unforgiveness, etc., our lens can make it next to impossible to truly see what is happening in us and in front of us. Sometimes, I find that I would prefer the blurred lens instead of having to see truth. If I look through my tainted lens, my hurt is justified, my sin is not really sin, and actions are valid. However, being okay with my blurred vision does not allow for healing and growth in my life and the lives around me.

Over the last few months, I have found myself clinging to my blurred vision from time to time, wanting and praying for things to just go back to the way they were. The longing and the hurt sneaks up on the days I least expect it. The cloudiness of my own emotions makes it hard to see the light in the darkness. The blur makes it hard to see where I failed in my words and actions towards others, myself, and the Lord. And, if left alone in the fog, it is easy to perpetuate on that hurt and forget all that the Lord has shown me and continues to show me each day.

For me, I desperately need the lens of truth from God's word to bring repentance, redemption, and hope.  I need the lens of good friends around me that are willing to ask tough questions because they love me enough to do so and are willing to walk by my side no matter what life brings. I need the lens of others who have gone before me, walked through similar circumstances, and come out on the other side better because of the journey. It is through these things that I am able to see more clearly.

With His lens, even on the hardest of days, I know God's plan is always better than my own. With His lens, I know there is hope. Through friends, I am encouraged, affirmed, and challenged to continue walking forward in faith. And friends, there is freedom in knowing that I can't do this on my own. We need people in our lives to help us see ourselves and our situations clearly. When my vision starts to blur, I pray that I will take a step back and  put on my "readers."

What a difference time makes

Coffee in hand, sun shining brightly through the window of my sister's house, and snow on the ground, one thought kept coming to mind, What a difference time makes... whether it is a week, a few months, or a year. While I don't fully agree with the statement Time will heal all wounds, I do feel that in my life time makes a difference, a big difference. After being forced to slow down and rest, this week has consisted of a lot of sitting around, watching, and reflecting. Reflecting on the last week, months, and year. Reflecting on where I was physically, emotionally, and spiritually compared to where I am now. Reflecting on God's constant provisions and reminders of love, no matter what was happening.

This time last year, I would have never imagined much of what the year held. There was no thought of a significant other or a new job or my sister and her family living in Michigan or the loss of a significant other. While I am not sure I would have willingly chosen much of what the year held if I had known the heartache, loss, and struggles that also came, I know that each has brought good in my life. My faith and trust in God has been tested and strengthened as I learned to cry out honest prayers and seek His face through it all. I have learned the depth of His love through those around me. What a difference time makes.

This time just a few months ago, my trip to Michigan carried a much different tone than it has this week. Feeling the freshness of heartache and the overwhelming uncertainty of what the future held, the trip carried with it a sadness of what was lost. The gloomy weather of the week only seemed to add to how I felt on the inside. Yes, I was thankful to be with my sister and her family in their new home, but yes, there was hurt I can't deny. Fast forward just a few short months, and the trip this time carries hope and excitement of what is to come. The week has been filled with brilliant sunshine (with freeeeeezing temperatures), a sweet gift of snow for the girls, and a brightness that comes when the sun and snow collide. With healing in between then and now, I am hopeful of the future and certain that God knows best.  What a difference time makes. 

This time last week, I was sitting in a hospital bed, recovering from an emergency appendectomy, unsure I would even be able to make the trip to Michigan. The weeks leading up to the surgery held physical pain and really no reason of why. Completely exhausted and running on empty, my body gave way and my appendix made it known that something was wrong. With no options to work or do or go, I sat and sat some more and sat even more. I slept and slept some more and slept even more. The trip to Michigan was a go, thanks to the best nurse and mom I could ever ask for, as long as I rested. Not without a few moments of frustration from surgery, this week has been one of restoration in a way I didn't expect. What a difference time makes. 

This time I can tell you the picture is filled with so much hope, anticipation, and joy. This picture is one that tells of God's provisions in more ways than I can explain right now. It tells of His perfect timing and unending love. It tells of healing and restoration. This picture holds memories of sweet cheers of excitement- MK is pumped about another baby brother in the family. It holds genuine smiles. This picture is one I will hold dear as a reminder that time makes a difference, healing is possible, and hope is here.

I don't know what you are going through in your life. I don't know what hurt and disappointments you may find yourself experiencing in the moment. I don't know if you relate more to where I was this time last year, a few months ago, or last week. Whatever it is you are going through, I encourage you to keep walking forward, keep putting one foot in front of the other. As you do, I think you will look up one day, just like I have, surprised and thankful for where you've been and where you are going. While you will never hear me say Time heals all wounds, you will hear me say What a difference time makes.