A Little Bit of Rain

       I know, I know, it's been several months since I last posted anything on this simple little blog. It seems life and graduate school eat up most of my days. Between classes and interning, paperwork and everything in between, my life is pretty busy. On top of all that, nearly full time work on the days I am not interning keeps me even busier! Who knew a toddler could have so much energy?!
 
       As if life isn't crazy enough, I haven't been feeling well for several months. Last year, in the spring, I found myself battling a case of pneumonia which left me feeling not quite myself ever since. As anyone with a chronic illness could have the tendency to do, I wrote off my symptoms as nothing to worry about. That extra sleep I seemed to need? Maybe it was just the heat as we didn't have air conditioning over the summer. Those pesky headaches? Maybe I wasn't drinking enough or maybe it was the stress of so many life changes at once. Random joint pain and swelling? Surely that was just from the heat. So many little things that were bearable at the time were easily ignored with some effort. It's so hard to know if I'm being paranoid or really sick sometimes.

       Summer soon gave way to fall, and another move took place (the second in a year) and I began grad school. My symptoms soon began to take their toll. They were still manageable, but I knew that their presence was something of a red flag. By Christmas my hair began to fall out more rapidly than it usually did and I noticed swollen glands and a whole host of new symptoms. Getting out of bed in the morning seemed nearly impossible and I just didn't feel right. A trip to a new family doctor to get some blood work completed, barely into the new year,  proved pointless as all the tests came back 'normal.' By spring I became highly suspicious of this wretched Lyme Disease's return. Somehow I lingered in denial, partly because I didn't know what doctor to see and partly because I didn't want to be sick again. If you are unfamiliar with my story and my journey through Lyme disease, feel free to check out my earlier post, Untamed Blessings, for a very brief glimpse into my teenage years when I suffered from this disease. Perhaps sometime I will go back and give more explicit details, but that's a post for another day. At any rate, I didn't want to be sick and perhaps I believed for a moment that if I ignored the symptoms altogether, and trusted the blood tests of the family doctor, then I wouldn't have to be sick. Faulty, I know, but bear with my insufficient logic.

       Spring came and I knew I was sick. All the sleep in the world could not energize me and along with various other symptoms, the pain in my body had reached a new high. I couldn't return to my old Lyme doctor because she doesn't take health insurance - something that is not possible for me to financially handle. After some searching, I was finally informed of a doctor in my area who treated Lyme disease. All I wanted was a blood test to confirm some sort of diagnosis. I had been down this road before, but I was nervous. Finally, in June, nerves and all, I took myself to the doctor. Thankfully he was located ten minutes from my home. The initial consult convinced the doctor of a lyme disease relapse and I think I finally crawled out of denial. That was a hard day. The next two weeks crept by slower than molasses as I waited for the blood work to confirm or deny my suspicions. I already knew what the results would indicate, but I couldn't seem to believe it until I had hard evidence. I knew that if the tests were negative (which can happen with Lyme if the blood work is not sent to the proper lab) my insurance would not pay for treatment. If positive, I could possibly get some help. Let's just say I experienced a bit of anxiety in that time. I knew I was sick again, but the hard evidence would force me to face my fears.

       On July 11, I got the news I knew I would. Blood work indicated that I, once again, was sick with Lyme disease. Hearing the doctor say I was 'positive' was both a comfort and difficult. I was sick again. Hearing him say I needed a PICC line (for IV antibiotics) was even more devastating. I knew I was sick; very sick. I knew that this was the likely course of action, but in that moment when the hard facts met the thoughts that had been rustling around my mind, I suddenly felt weak. I was sick again. After six years of being symptom free, I was about to start my journey through Lyme disease all over again and I didn't want to. I didn't want to deal with everything all over again, but I didn't have a choice. I didn't want to tell people I was sick. I didn't want to admit that I couldn't continue with the load of responsibilities and involvement I currently had. I didn't want to face the reality that I was going to have to rest. I didn't want to be reminded that in the last several weeks my husband became somewhat of a caretaker and assumed nearly all household responsibilities after work when I simply could not function without several hours of sleep to recuperate. I didn't want others to see me as weak and I didn't want to be weak. In the midst of all these fears and unwanted things, I had no choice. The truth was, I was sick and would be for a while. I am sick.

       So here I am...having already begun treatment. Only one week in and it's been such an experience already. I am learning so much about who I am, where my value lies, and where God is in the midst of my suffering once more. This will surely be another journey to recovery, but I feel like I should share it with you all. I've decided, in the next several weeks, while I go through treatment, I will share the raw journey with whoever reads. It won't always be pretty and it won't always be great, but I will share the details of my journey nonetheless. It will be a real telling of suffering, but a even more telling of blessings as they show their faces. I know we will find some blessings along the way, even in the midst of a little bit of rain. 'Til we meet again...

      

The Seconds Between

       I am known for having wacky dreams. Many of my dreams are complete insanity and nothing short of strange. Often I wake up in the morning asking myself what I ate the night before to make me dream such crazy adventures. Ever since I was a little girl, I've had an imagination that takes imagination to even begin to imagine. I won't humor you with the strange dreams I have; you probably would start to question the soundness of my mind. Never the less, I assure you, these strange story lines only stay in my unconscious hours and these dreams of grandeur never cross into reality...thank goodness!

       Last night was no different at first. Silly dreams of being chased by vegetables or swimming in lakes of sweet, decadent ice cream started off the night. I would be lying if I told you that I don't ever think my dreams have meaning. Just not those kinds of dreams. However, ever once in a while, I have one of those dreams that shake me to the core. You probably know what I mean. Maybe not. It's the type of dream that resembles reality so much that it cannot be put out of my mind. It's almost creepy, actually. I mean, what if these things started to come true! I think we might be in trouble. But sometimes they do. A little hint of De ja vu always hits me when something similar to my previous dreams really does happen in real life. It's kind of strange. Regardless, let me give you a bit of back story before I tell you the impacting dream I had last night.

       Many of you know that I am super passionate about human trafficking and bringing healing to those caught in such a vicious and horrid cycle. If you did not know this about me, take a minute to read my blog from several months back Standing in the Space of Injustice. If you are aware of this fact, then you would understand my frustration with people who only talk about the problem and do not seek out ways to make a difference. Perhaps you are not as passionate about trafficking as I am, but my frustration is with those who claim to be passionate about something, but never take a step to change the injustice in which he or she is passionate about seeing change. I believe change starts with us. Each of us can make a huge difference if we take the risk to see change happen.

       My frustration runs deep. Not only am I frustrated with secular circles that seem to blow smoke and allow their fire to fizzle out almost as quickly as it began, I am also frustrated with the Church. As a part of the Church I am most frustrated with the fact that many churches leave themselves open to the criticism of those around them who are looking for help and the church forgets to do something. Many people wonder "Where was God when 'X' happened?"...I think a better question is "Where were God's people when 'X' happened?" So in an attempt to wake the church up, I bring awareness to the problems around us, try to light the fire of passion in the people of God, and attempt to find my own way into the world of action and not just apathy. This brings me to my dream.

       I will not waste your time and tell you the entire dream in detail, but rather, I'll give a quick snapshot of what was going on in my mind last night. The dream was one that started off with some burglars trying to break into the church I attend. For some reason, my parents were there with me and we were trying to protect the objects inside. I don't know what those objects were, or why they were so important, but during several frantic moments we ran to every window and door and locked them as quickly as we could. It was the middle of the day, so the burglars could see what we were doing as they ran along the outside of the building trying to climb in. At one point, they discovered that two of the large windows we locked actually had broken locks. They appeared to be secured, but were actually broken. In a moment of panic my parents tried to continually push them back out of the windows and I ran to the basement to make a 911 call. I needed to rally up some help.

       As I spilled the story to the operator on the phone, I was told that help was on the way and that a team would be there soon. Somehow, next thing I knew, I ended up outside the building, running through the town in reckless anticipation of the help that was on the way. I ran from person to person begging for help. No one responded. Not one single person. As time ticked on, hours and hours passed. I knew that my parents were fighting hard to protect whatever was inside that church, but I knew that I needed to continue searching for help. I wondered if the help I had secured with the 911 operator got lost, so I searched the city for any emergency personnel. In a moment of desperation, I burst into a huge warehouse, hoping to find a vigilante that would come with me. What I found was appalling to me.

       As the doors flew open, I found hundreds of police officers standing around, socializing. Had they forgotten that there was an emergency happening? What was going on. I began to scream and beg for their help. My efforts went unnoticed by all but a handful. I thought I had found help. Quickly, the officers followed me out and began running down the sidewalk with me towards the church where my parents were likely losing their battle. Out of nowhere, they all just stopped. To my left was a small coffee shop. One of the officers said "Hey, let's grab some coffee on our way!"

        I was furious. Didn't they know how important this fight was? Were they not aware that it was their job to stop burglaries? Did it not sink in that my family's lives were at stake? Stop for coffee? STOP FOR COFFEE?!?! I screamed at them and continued to beg them to come. Grabbing their arms and pulling them, I tried to make them budge, but instead they sat down at the barista table outside and ordered their beverages. Without pause, I stood staring at the only female officer. "Please...you have to come". She gently retorted "We'll get there in time. Sit down and relax. We have a few minutes. They burglars will be there when we arrive and then we will apprehend them. There is time." Furious I stared at her for a moment and then closed my eyes, unable to look at her any longer. Slowly began to count silently, using my fingers to keep track of the numbers. 1...2...3...4...5.....

       The female officer sounded caught off guard. "What are you doing?" "Counting the seconds between the time you learned about the injustice and the moment you decide not to do anything about it" At that my mind gave me an image of me turning and running down the sidewalk, stopping at nothing. I pushed people out of the way and ran as fast as I could. I would not have a pause. And then I woke.

       I wonder if that's what it is like in real life? How many times do we hear about an injustice and then take time to think about it and finally decide we will do nothing? In the meantime, a battle is being fought. A battle for life. A battle to protect. A battle that needs more warriors on the side of good. How many seconds, minutes, days, months, years, does it take for us to pretend to have passion and then finally decide not to do anything about it? How long do we sit and sip our coffee while the battle rages on? Where is the band of rescuers?

       There is no excuse. What is wrong with humanity that makes us believe that while we sip on coffee, the babies in our generations are being raped, trafficked, lured into drugs, forced to work on rice farms or sew clothing in sweat shops...broken...and that's okay. Where is the urgency? Where is the concern? Where are the actions? I beg you...do something. Heed the lesson of this dream. Please, do not sit and count the seconds between finding out about injustice and deciding you will do nothing. No, no single comfort in this world is worth allowing the innocence of people around us to be taken away. No single comfort, to me, is worth letting a ten year old be forced to have sex with countless men who do not value her worth. No comfort is worth the pain she will face. None.

Please, people, wake up from your slumber...don't just sit there and count the seconds.

Looking Back While Moving Forward

       As I sit in my cozy little apartment in the city, I can hear the noise of engines revving at the light outside our home and sirens wailing off in the distance. These are not uncommon sounds these days and most times I hardly notice them. My Christmas tree still twinkles in our living room and the tiny lights captivate my attention. The Christmas balls dance with color and sparkle in a way that only Christmas balls on a tree can do. It is a bit gray outside and this makes me feel retrospective for some reason. The lights, the colors, the weather; not to mention the mug of hot tea I am sipping. I can't help but reflect on my year and what it has carried.

       What a journey this year has been. There are no other words to describe this year than adventurous. Crazy adventure, to be exact! The year started in a whirlwind for us. Newly married, finishing school for me, and so many other every day things taking place. Somewhere in the first few months we felt a change for our short life together was making way for an awesome appearance. It took nearly all year to emerge, but after much praying, tears, studying the Word deeper, and getting on the same page with God, we knew He was calling us to a new homeland, a new place where He had called us to go. Our year quickly turned from months of seeking His face and searching for his plan, to a call of obedience. The story is way too long to share, but by spring we knew that God was asking us to trust Him no matter what and to obey the call He had placed on our hearts. God was moving us to the greater Philadelphia area.

       It would take a few months to get to where we knew God wanted us to be, but we would eventually make it. Those days were very difficult. We needed to hand over our finances to God, continually ask Him for direction at every step, and  attempt to walk in the palm of His hand through it all. The summer brought many lessons, some of which were: 1. Learning that God provides for our every need physically, financially, mentally, spiritually; every need when we trust Him and get in the center of His hand. Even when life is challenging, He provides and we find joy 2. God wants us to have an intense love and care for the 'least of these' and taking action to care for such people is beyond fulfilling. 3. I am beyond thrilled to have a husband who wants what God wants more than what he or I want and a fearless leader who is willing to chase a crazy adventure with me. I am blessed beyond measure. 4. When we are ready and willing to be used by God, He doesn't delay in using us! 5. Prayer really, truly works. 6. The list goes on! 7...8...9...etc.

       Through the generosity of some friends, we spent the summer living in a small apartment near the city as we pursued support as missionaries to the greater Philadelphia area. We went through a lengthy process of partnering up with a great church called The Journey and Mark began an internship with the church where he will spend the next three or so years training and learning how to plant a church. We will work side by side with our current church family, serving in all the ways we can and experiencing the community that God has called His people to be. We love our church and have enjoyed learning more about them, getting involved with them, and jumping completely into the water with these truly awesome people.

       The fall brought the official move into a neighboring city to Philadelphia to this cute little, cozy apartment from which I now write. It was amazing how this place was provided for us and how perfect the location is for our ministry. The very day the 'For Rent' sign was placed outside, we happened to be walking around the city, looking for housing. We were the first to call about the place, and the ones to rent it! This is no small task in the city as housing disappears almost as instantly as it is discovered. But by the grace of God...

       Fall also afforded me the opportunity to go back to school and pursue my graduate degree. This is a dream come true. I have always wanted to be a licensed counselor, and I am a step closer to that God-ordained dream. With one semester down and another about to begin, I enter with confidence that I am right where God intends for me to be. I couldn't be any happier in a grad school program than I am in this one. Biblical Theological Seminary is simply phenomenal. Counseling comes easy for me...well, as easy as counseling can be. I have a true heart for the broken and weary and absolutely want to be used to change the trajectory of the lives of those I will counsel. My deepest desire is that I would be used by God to bring healing to the places that need healing in my future clients and that through them, I too would grow closer to God, daily relying on Him to provide wisdom and insight into the needs of my future clients.

       So, as I reflect on 2012, I am well aware that we have come through a lot, but not without the hand of God guiding us throughout our days. I have grown so much this year in many ways. I have experienced quite an adventure and wouldn't trade it for anything. When Mark and I first got married over a year ago, I said to him on several occasions "Mark, let's do something crazy for God. Let's go on an adventure!" Little did I know, that just a few months later, in the beginning of 2012, God was orchestrating just that.

       May 2013 be the continuation of a grand thing and even better at teaching me even more about God - the one my life is dedicated to. May I serve feverishly and bring Him all the honor and glory He deserves. May the burden for the poor, orphaned, widowed, broken, victimized - the least among us be so heavy on my heart. Yes, may I decrease and He increase.

Happy New Year!

Savings: Homemade Yogurt

       If you're anything like my husband and I, we eat yogurt like it is completely going out of style! We love it! After going to the grocery store and realizing that, between the two of us, we devour four large containers of Stoneyfield yogurt a week and taking a moment to add up the cost of that, I decided to look into making my own yogurt. French Vanilla is our favorite, but I was willing to make plain yogurt and flavor it on my own if it meant that it would save us a pretty penny. It was either that or stop eating it, and considering how nutritious yogurt is, and how much we love it, I knew that my only options were to continue spending the $15-$20 a week on yogurt of make it. I chose the latter.

       I'll admit, I was a little skeptical at first. I was worried about executing the recipe incorrectly and spoiling an entire batch, then, unknowingly ingesting nasty, spoiled yogurt. The thought was enough to gross me out, but I suppose not enough to scare me away from this wonderful creation. After doing a little bit of research and realizing that there are a ton of ways to make yogurt and every website tells you to do something different, I settled on my own sort of recipe. I suppose having a yogurt maker would make this process a million times easier, but I don't have one, so I will share with you all what I do to successfully accomplish making yogurt. If you're curious about the cost effectiveness, allow me to save you the time it takes to read this recipe and just add this tidbit in now. Brace yourselves, it's epic savings. For four quart containers (yes, I make one whole gallon at a time!) the only cost is one gallon of milk and one small cup of organic yogurt (only needed the first time you make your yogurt. After the first time, you will use your own culture). I believe that comes out to less than four dollars. Yes people, less than four dollars for one gallon of yogurt. Now that you all are completely amazed and will be jumping up to make yogurt (one can dream, right?), let me wow you even more and let you in on how easy it is to make!

First, take one gallon of milk (I use 2%) and heat it to 180 degrees. I use my crockpot. It takes several hours to heat if using the crockpot on high, but I find I don't have to worry about scorching and can easily do other things while I wait for it to hit the proper temperature.
After the milk has reached 180 degrees (this breaks down the milk proteins), turn off the heat and cool to a nice temperature between 115-120. Any hotter than 120 degrees will kill the live culture bacteria in the yogurt you will add and any cooler than 115 degrees will not be warm enough to grow the culture.

 

 

Once the desired temperature  is reached, then take a few spoonfuls of your yogurt culture (preferably organic yogurt) and drop them into the milk. Whisk the mixture so it is nice and smooth. This won't take much effort.

 

Finally, the fun part begins. The mixture must stay warm for approximately 6-8 hours. I do this by turning the crockpot on warm for only about 30 seconds (just enough to take the chill out of the crockpot outer piece). Then, place the crockpot lid on and cover the whole thing with a ton of think, warm blankets to insulate the concoction. Be sure you have turned the crockpot off or you will ruin the entire batch. My favorite part comes next: Go to bed for 6-8 hours!!! Yep, go to bed and let the yogurt do its thing. In the morning, you will find you have a huge batch of yogurt! voila!

 

Before you do anything with the yogurt you've created, place the entire container in the fridge. DO NOT scoop it out of the container you made the yogurt in or it will not set correctly. Only after the yogurt has completely cooled for a few hours, can you scoop it out and put it in smaller, easier stored containers. I like to use glass Ball jars so I can properly sanitize them and reuse them.

 

Finally, feel free to mix in some vanilla extract (to taste) or a small amount of honey or sugar. I don't add sugar as I want this to be a super healthy treat, but I do add vanilla and honey. You can also add fresh fruit in individual servings when you are ready to eat it or granola. All are healthy and yummy options! Enjoy!

 



        Just a few more things. After you have made the yogurt and cooled it, you may notice and clear or slightly yellow liquid on the top of the yogurt. This is called whey. It is actually very nutritious and can be mixed into the yogurt. However, if you prefer thicker yogurt, you can strain the whey off with a cheese cloth.

        I have learned that the longer you continue to use your own yogurt culture to make more batches of yogurt, the thinker the yogurt becomes. After using the same culture a few times, you will see a difference. Each batch of yogurt lasts at least two weeks, but you can still safely use the culture for your next batch at that two week mark. I recommend this!

       Feel free to ask any questions! I've been doing this for several months and find it to be simple, money-saving, and delicious. Enjoy!

Like a Little Child

       As many of you know, I am currently working as a nanny as I work my way through graduate school and achieve my MA in Counseling. No doubt, my future does not consist of extended nannying years, but it will surely still be filled with children. Granted, my job now, is one in which there is joy, happiness, playing, laughing, and complete love of life. However, in the future, I will be dealing with children who have lost that sort of flame for life; the least of these who need something to bring them joy once again. But that's an entirely different post. What I want to focus on in this post is how awesome kids really are. In order to protect the identity of the little girl I nanny, and her family, I've decided to call this little sweetheart (no, there will be no photos of her either), Eve.

 

       Let me just tell you, Eve is one happy child. At just under two years old, I have never met a more happy child in my life. I arrive early in the morning, approximately 7:30AM, and each morning Eve greets me with the biggest smile I've ever seen. For several minutes I get the 'scoop' on what's for lunch or what time Eve woke in the morning or if she has been spitting her breakfast out or actually ingesting it. She patiently waits as mom goes over the logistics, but the moment little Eve's mom leaves the home, it is serious playtime for us! Okay, some days she's more in the mood for cuddling up and being tickled and other days she's totally ready to hit the ground running - literally - and I chase after her playfully as she squeals and shrieks with complete joy...but there's one thing for sure, lots of laughter is always on the menu.

 

       One of the coolest things I've had the privilege of witnessing is Eve's growth. Yes, she has certainly physically grown in the short five months that I have worked for this lovely family, every single day is full of discovery and adventure. Just this morning, as I work hard to develop Eve's language skills, she picked up a Mickey Mouse coloring book, began turning the pages rapidly and yelling 'Mickey! Mickey! Mickey!' at every page that had an image of her superstar. I was elated. For so long I've been saying 'Mickey' for her and today she decided it would be a great thing to say. How completely precious! I am completely amazed at who this little girl is becoming and at what is happening in her little brain. Neural connections are happening daily and so quickly I can hardly believe the progress she makes each day. She's a smart little lady, that's for sure!

 

       What speaks to me the most about children, and particularly Eve, is the joy they each exude. I'm sure this isn't the truth for each and every child around the world, but I would be willing to bet most children are joyous. Eve is nearly two and she has taught me, some of the most beautiful lessons about life and has reminded me of some important things. When I look at Eve, I am reminded that I can approach life a lot of ways, but when I approach it with joy and happiness, I will find beauty in the things around me. Kids are so happy with even the smallest things. Eve can entertain herself for hours with just a small trinket. While out on a walk on warm fall afternoons, the sight of a brightly colored flower is enough to overload her little mind with awe and excitement. I've decided, if adults were more like Eve in these ways, this world would be a much kinder and happier place to live!

 

 

       If I'm being honest, there are days when Eve has a bit of an attitude, but those are few and far between. However, when they do come and I need to spend a few moments scolding her and keeping her from doing something she wants to do because it could be harmful, she instantly forgives me for being stern and taking away the fun she thought she was going to have. Granted, I'm certainly not harsh with Eve. When I have to correct her I am still gentle. Eve is forgiving. Kids are usually quick to forgive. I wonder what life would be like if we were able to forgive like that. Wouldn't that be so freeing?

 

       Along with her joy and forgiving heart, Eve is highly affectionate. She loves to cuddle. 'Love' is probably not a strong enough word to express how much this child loves to show affection. There is nothing more adorable and precious than when she curls up on my lap to take a nap and she puts her head on my chest and holds my hand as she drifts off to her deep slumber. I swear she can't fall asleep without holding my hand.  I don't know how someone couldn't absolutely melt when experiencing such a heartwarming affection. It's just as heartwarming when she comes and randomly gives me hugs and kisses while we are playing. Eve knows the meaning of loving those around her who care for her and who love her back. How often we forget these things and forget to tell those around us that we care about them, even through a simple hug. Children understand love, and before their thoughts about it are all messed up and marred, they know how to naturally show it to those they love and those who love them as well. I think there's something to learn.

 

       Have you ever stopped and watched a child and thought 'Wouldn't it be nice if the whole world had their joy, their awe, their love, their forgiveness...I do. I think this every single day I spend with Eve and I strive to live like her in some ways. I want to be a person who has great joy in life and awe for the simplest things around me. I want to love and forgive. There's something to being childlike, and I for one don't ever want to grow up. Let children be a reminder of these things to us, daily.

The Simplest Joys...

     It's that time of the year again. The hustle and bustle is swirling all around me and I'm finding it difficult to keep up with not only my own 'bustle', but the bustle of those around me is enough to make me feel lightheaded and dizzy. Don't get me wrong, I love this time of the year. The energy, the lights, the joy, the excitement, friends, family, and tasty comfort foods; it all does my heart some good. But somehow, in the midst of this awe-inspiring season, something is missing.

     I admit I am addicted to the busyness. I get pleasure out of traveling, giving gifts, and running from one place to the next. When I am not moving or doing something, I don't feel normal. With all the things that put demands on my time, I am an expert at scheduling. My calendar is full with graduate school, band practice, youth ministries, church activities, serving my community, dinners with friends, work, and so much more.

     With the recent end of the semester at school, I spent my first day 'free' going about my normal daily activities. I went to work (I nanny a 18 month old) early in the morning after a long night of my final classes the evening before. As I'm sure you can imagine, my morning was full of diapers, feeding the little lady breakfast, playing like crazy and caring for the little life I have in my hands. Though I had not had much rest the night before, I was still determined to use the baby's nap time to start working on the reading I need to knock out during the next semester, which starts in just a few weeks. Nap time is a great time to get school work done. I'm not sure how it happened exactly (humor me for a second and pretend I don't know), but as I lay on the couch at 10:30 in the morning, with my girl cuddling on my chest, suddenly there were two of us fast asleep.

     Later, as Ava began to stir, I groggily opened my eyes and peered across the room to try and make out the small numbers on the clock. I had not been sleeping long so I was convinced I would be able to start that reading. But as I focused carefully at the clock I realized I was completely in denial. The small numbers suddenly became huge; 2:00PM!! Yikes! Where did the last several hours go?! Did I really sleep with Ava for the entire nap time?

     To be honest, I nearly had a heart attack. Did I really let my gaurd down and sleep rather than doing school work? Almost as quickly as that thought rushed intrusively into my mind another very quiet one snuck in. I thought 'Man, I feel like a million bucks! That was seriously enjoyable.' For those of you who know me well, you know that I adore sleep. I'm not joking when I say I fall asleep at night with a smile on my face. It's sick, really. It's a part of who I am. Nevertheless, wasn't that a few hours of laziness?

     I began to think for the last day or so about all of the things we deny ourselves because it may make us feel lazy, unfocused, or as if we've let time slip away from us. In the world today, one minute is no longer measured by the number of seconds it contains, but rather by the quantity of things one can accomplish in a period of time. I'm afraid many of us have forgotten that it is okay to slow down and enjoy the simplest things in life. Was I wrong to have taken those few hours to care for my body and mind?

     Let me advocate something different from the guilt inducing thoughts that can easily stop us from enjoying life. Let me suggest that one of the best things we can do for ourselves is to stop and enjoy the little things in life. In the busyness of the Christmas season and the new year on the brink of showing its face, maybe stopping to enjoy a nap isn't being lazy, maybe it's learning to slow down and love life. Perhaps sitting down to sip a lovely latte rather than rushing out the door in the morning with coffee in hand with the only purpose of zapping us to life and functioning. There can be joy in so many things if we just take a moment to stop and enjoy. Is there no joy in pausing to enjoy a new pair of fuzzy socks? What about the joy of every single bite of a perfectly seasoned dinner? I believe there is great joy in the most nominal moments.

     My friends, I urge you; enjoy the little things this season (and always!). Feel the warmth of slipping on a pair of cozy socks on a chilly winter morning. Enjoy the company of those with whom you share a dinner. Embrace the laughter that comes when silly moments take place. Smile at the hand-drawn cards you receive around the holidays. Enjoy coffee or a hot tea, really enjoy it, for its flavor and warmth. Delight in that bit of dessert you've sworn off for the rest of the year. I don't know where you are today, or what your challenges and joys in life are today, but let me urge you to stop and enjoy.

     Sincerely, the simplest joys bring the most joys in life. Blessings this Christmas season to you and yours.

Mya's Heart

She stood silently glaring at the mirror. Leaning in closely she began to count; one, two, three, four...five. "Too many to count." she thought as she stared at all the blemishes that shown feircely all over her face. The mirror gawked at her; she hated her face. In fact, she hated everything about the way she looked. She focused on the dark circles under her eyes, then dug through her makeup bag looking for something, anything to cover up her face; to make her look beautiful.

Slapping on some foundation she sighed.

"Nothing's going to work today, is it? God, why do you let me look this terrible!? You know how much I want to look good...you know why I have to...Ugh, why am I even asking You? It's not like you care anyway."

Mya finished putting mascara and eyeliner on just as a hot tear began to form. She quickly grabbed a tissue and slammed it into the corner of her eye. She was running late and couldn't afford to have her make-up run now. She pretended to not know why she was crying, but deep down, all she wanted was to be loved. All she wanted was to feel like she was worth something. Glancing at the clock, she threw on her shoes and put her heart on her sleeve as a finishing touch. Then she ran out the door. "I can't be late to class again, today..."

Outside the cold air hit here face, and she picked up her speed. Somehow, even though it was cold, warmth spread throughout her body as she hurried across campus. Caught off guard she heard a familiar voice.

"Hey Baby! You comin' out tonight? You sure are lookin' fine!"

Mya just smiled, and nodded her head. She couldn't remember, "Was that Joe? Or wait, was it Jake?" It didn't matter, she knew what he was talking about. She went out every night. She always stopped at the bar first, then picked up a guy, then who knows what next...it didn't much matter to her. Secretly she wondered every night if he would be "the one." This night wouldn't be any different.

As she stepped into the classroom, she felt the stares from all around the room. Immediately she dropped her head and sat at the closest desk to the door. She wasn't late, but she knew everyone was staring at her anyway. Continuing to stare at the floor she slithered out of her winter coat revealing a tight, black, long-sleeved shirt. She slid her hands down beside her thighs and gently pulled her skirt down a little further. She felt awkward.

In front of her she noticed two guys leaned in and whispering. She knew what they were talking about; her. Before she knew it the one football player scribbled on a piece of paper and passed it back to her. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the crumbled mess and inscribed on the notebook paper were the words "Meet me after class..." Again she took a deep breath, and it took all she had to hold back the tears.

The Professor began to talk and Mya quickly snapped back to reality. She tried hard not to think about the note, but deep down her heart was still stinging. She was lost, confused, and wishing she was anyone but herself. Before she knew it, her peers began to rustle and she knew that the class was over. Grabbing her things she rushed out the door and ran to the bathroom. Again the mirror haunted her as she fixed her make-up.

"Did you see Mya today?"

The words made Mya jump. She didn't even know anyone else was in there. Quietly she stood still, not making a sound. She listened carefully.

"Yeah, she's such a slut now. I wonder what changed. She used to be so smart."

"Did you know that she drinks every night now?"

"I know! I heard! Did you hear that she's slept with all the guys in her hall?"

"For real? I wouldn't doubt it!"

Mya sniffled softly as the accusations pierced her heart. She wanted to run out of the bathroom but she knew that the girls in the stalls would know it was her if she had...she froze.

"Shhh, did you hear something?"

"No, what?"

"I think someone's in here...I thought I heard someone sniffle..."

The toilets flushed and just as Mya felt faint and all the color left her face, the stall doors opened and the two girls stared blankly at her. Without a word they laughed and ran out of the bathroom. Mya stood, frozen in time, mortified.

A few moments later, Mya regained her composure and sulked out of the bathroom. "They don't know anything about me." she thought. "All I want is to feel loved. The right guy has GOT to be out there somewhere, and I'm going to keep looking. In the meantime, I'm just running into the bad ones first, right?"

The rest of the day flew by and soon it was time for her to go out to the bar. After making sure her make-up was perfect and her outfit was perfect, she double checked to make sure her battered heart still was securely fastened to her sleeve. She was ready to go out.

The rest of the night was a blur. She had definitely had way too much to drink, and she knew it. The next morning she woke up with the guy she had brought home lying next to her in her bed. She was used to this, so when she noticed that he had taken her heart off of the sleeve of the clothing she had been wearing, it was no surprise to her that he was ripping a piece of her heart off. While she knew every guy she had "been with" ripped a piece of her heart off, she couldn't bear to watch. She never could. If she ever would sneak a peak, it would feel as though her heart really was being ripped apart, so she closed her eyes.

After a minute or two she expected to no longer hear the ripping, but when the ripping continued, she could not help but look.

"What are you doing?!" she shouted! "That's my heart! You can't have it all!"

Mya's heart began to pound so rapidly that she thought it would pop out of her chest.

"STOP!!! You can't have that much!!"

The boy ripped off one more piece and jumped out of bed. He slowly got dressed. He still clutched her heart. Without a word, he opened the door and walked down the hall. Mya jumped up and wrapped a blanket around herself.

"HEY!!! Come back!! That's MY heart you have! What are you doing??!!"

Without even looking back the boy dropped the heart to the floor. "Take your stupid heart. It's not worth anything anyway."

As the heart floated to the ground, Mya could barely see it. It had gotten so small. She ran up the hall after him. She wasn't trying to catch him, she was trying to catch her heart before it hit the floor. Tripping over her blanket she fell to the floor, just as her heart hit the hard tile. Excrutiateing pain blasted through her body and she knew that this time she couldn't stop the tears. Quickly scooping up the tiny heart, she ran back to her room and closed the door.

"Why, why, why?? WHY do I ALWAYS do this??"

She cried out to God, wondering why. "If only You would be listening! If only the RIGHT one would come along! Why aren't you protecting my heart? Why don't you love me?? Ugh, here I am again, talking to a God that doesn't even care! I hate You!"

Day after day, Mya did the same thing over and over again, until there was nearly nothing left of her poor heart. She had worn her heart on her sleeve for so long, and now all she had left of the heart was almost gone. Each morning she woke up, another man had taken any part of her heart that she had given him; and all she could do was close her eyes and sob."God, please help me..."

One morning, Mya woke up to find a note under her door. "Probably another guy sending me some obnoxious note..." Her bare feet hit the ground and she drug them across the floor. Bending down, she realized that the note was in a bright red, sealed envelope. Ever so gently, as if not to shred the paper, she opened the tiny envelope. The scarlet red reminded her of her heart. As she opened the envelope, she saw something familiar. Inside lay a pasted together heart, just like the one she used to wear on her sleeve. There was only one small piece missing; it was the one she still had. As she reached up to her sleeve, she unpinned the remaining piece of the heart and slipped it in the empty place. She had a full heart now.

Just as she was about to put the envelope down, a small note slipped out and floated onto her bed. As she flipped the paper over, her eyes welled with hot, hot tears. In the most beautiful handwriting she had ever seen, she read the words: "I've heard your cries, I've seen every piece of your heart being ripped to shreds and I've caught every tear; every last one. And while you are lost and broken and hate yourself more than ever before, I have created for you a new, complete, and beautiful heart. And despite what you think; YOU ARE ENOUGH...And I love you so much. Don't be afraid, I am here..."

Mya didn't know what to think. She wondered where the note had come from, but in the depths of her sorrow, all she could muster up to say was "Thank you, God..." Mya peered out her dorm room window and wondered what she should do next. Without an answer, she simply held the new heart close to her chest, closed her eyes and began to feel it beat...