Soap Box

This is bugging me like a little gnat swarming around my ear. This month's issue of Shape magazine: a travesty. The cover article features a mildly popular sitcom actress completely nude with her legs and arms crossed so that only the smallest crevice of her body is shielded. It is absolutely appalling. This cover is nothing short of soft pornography. Unfortunately, you can find it on the display shelf of your local grocery store.....and so can you adolescent child. Not only do I think it is offensive to have such a cover blasted for all to see (not just the creepy porno shoppers) but, I find it completely offensive for a magazine supposedly being the voice and direction for women in fitness to advocate this type of class-less layout.
In conclusion, I would just like to say, I look better naked than that chick but, I would never disgrace myself as to pose for such a trashy layout. I have been a long time subscriber to Shape magazine and even ran in their DIVA DASH last spring. However after such a classless act, I have now cancelled my subscription. Another American company bites the dust.....such a travesty.

A book reivew: Crossing the Wire, by Will Hobbs

Crossing the Wire, by Will Hobbs

Much to my surprise, I highly recommend this book. This book addresses the controversial topic of US border control. Though I consider myself to be an ultra-conservative highly in favor of strict border control, I connected extremely deeply with the main character in this story. Victor, a 15 year man living in small Mexican village carries the sole responsibility of providing for his mother, and 5 siblings after the death of their father. When the Mexican corn farming industry plummets due to free market trade with the United States, Victor is forced to seek work in El Norte (the United States) in order to keep his family alive. This chilling and suspenseful tales takes the reader through Victor's horrific journey on a quest to save his family. In spite of my political views, I found myself cheering Victor on throughout the course of the book. Throughout the book, I was sure that the story was set in a time distant from our current year, due to the brutality faced at the hand of Mexican and United States border control. I was shocked to find that the story was actually set based on modern day reality. Don’t mistake my words, I am extremely proud to be an American and have many concerns with supporting illegal immigrants with my hard earned paycheck through schooling and medical benefits. However, I was reminded of the fact that before I am an American, I am a lover of people....all people created by my good Lord. I do not believe open borders are the answer but, I am open to exploring alternatives to fierce brutality against a 15 year man trying to save his family. I am blessed to live in this great country of opportunity and can't imagine how different my life would be if I had been dealt a different hand. Friends, the world is so much bigger than we could ever imagine. Once again, my confident views about how the world works, or should work, have been replaced with a dissonance. How can we make this better?

I am a typical teacher in that, I hate little annoying sounds that occur repeatedly in rhythm sch as, pencil tapping, loud breathing, facet dripping, and humming. These are all things that occur often in a classroom and my students learn quickly that they will not be tolerated. Well here in sit, in the cozy comfort of my home, resting in my bed with a heating pad on my sore back. The fire alarm apparently needs a new battery. It is beeping non stop. Every minute and a half, on cue, a high pitched beep blasts from that little annoying electronic device. It is making me crazy..... Why don't I just change it? Well there are two reasons. First, we have vaulted ceilings and I have no clue where the  ladder is, nor what type of battery I would need once I got there. Second, when I was in college at UNT, we had the same problem with the fire alarm in my room. As independent woman, I did not want to wait for my dad or one of my guy friends to fix it, I wanted to take care of it myself. I stood on my bed and unscrewed it and as it came down, so did about 300 ants, right on top of me. Apparently, the alarm was not beeping because it needed a battery change. It was beeping because ants had eaten through the wiring. That experience was even more terrible than it sounds.
 I do not like ants and I do not like fire alarms. The end.

Saying Good bye

I have been holding on to this one for a long while

Names have been changed to protect identities :-)

 Saying Goodbye

The phone call--

“Mrs. Clark you have an urgent message to call your mother in law, at the front office” I quickly arranged coverage for my rambunctious class and ran down the hall. It was extremely unusual to get a call from my mother in law in the middle of the day….which concerned me.

My first response was, “ Are you ok?” She paused  and then took a long deep breath.                                                       “It’s Eric.”

“Eric died, Amanda.” I could hear the sting of silence as I tried to put my words together. “What do you mean he is dead?” All at once, I began to feel hot and cold, nausea, shortness of breath, and confusion. 

“Amanda, I am planning his funeral with his mom, and I need you to tell Scott.”                            And the biggest bomb of all dropped.

That was the last thing I would ever want to do. My husband, such a strong guy’s guy….rough around the edges, had a soft spot for Eric, his childhood best friend.

I quickly settled my work duties and left for the day in a trance. As I headed to my husband’s work, I rehearsed over and over what I would say. The words seemed so foreign to me, no matter how many times I played them in my head. I sat in the parking lot of Providence hospital for what seemed like hours, gathering my thoughts. How do you tell your husband that his best friend died? As I got out of the car I felt a chill in the January air. It seemed colder than usual as I approached the door. I longed for spring to come rescue me from this moment.

---For the sun to warm my skin and the birds to chirp and dance through the bright sky.  I slowly began to walk up the dark and musty hallways, while chewing on my nails and trying to hide my own swollen eyes. I paced his office as I waited for him to answer my urgent page. It didn’t take long. He casually strolled into the office but his expression changed instantly as he sensed that something was off. He knew that a mid-day visit from me could never be good news. I could see the concern in his eyes as I embraced him in the doorway. My mind and my heart began to argue over whether I was strong enough to tell him. He instantly questioned my visit and I attempt to placate him by telling him I will explain in the car. He held my arm tightly as he insisted that I tell him what is wrong. I looked away and began to spill. The word cut like a blade as they spewed from my mouth.

“Something happened-- Something bad.        Scott…. Eric is dead.” “What?”

“Eric is dead, baby, he’s dead.”

“This isn’t real!......You’re a liar!” he said harshly, pushing me way.

“No………NO…………NO, he can’t be.” Scott fell to his knees grasping my body and clinging to it as he fell to the floor.  “What……How did this happen?”

“ I don’t know. We don’t know. He was found dead in his bed this morning. They think it is some type of overdose.”  Scott grabbed his stomach as the tears wailed down his face.

We sobbed violently as we lamented the loss of his closest friend. 

His expression quickly changed as he narrowed his eyes and looked directly into mine. “No, he can’t be. This can’t be real. You are lying to me.”

The drive home was unbearable. The 10 minute drive lasted an eternity. There were intermittent exchanges of silence and painful cries. My husband’s broken heart cut through me like a sword. When we walked in the house, everything looked different. Nothing seemed to matter like it did that morning. Dirty dishes in the sink, clothes lying on the floor outside of the hamper, were a trivial sight after losing a life. I felt like a spectator in my own life. Scott walked straight in the bedroom and lay down. He stared quietly at the ceiling, watching the blades of the ceiling fan turn monotonously. I looked at his blood shot blue eyes and tried to imagine how I could possibly get him through this.  The silence was interrupted occasionally by his cries.

I walked into the living room, shutting the door quietly behind me.

I wanted to give him some space and let him think. I needed to think. I needed to process. Eric was my friend too.

2 days later--

As we took the 2 hour drive to Dallas in silence, I tried to imagine how we would survive the next couple of days. The only visitations and funerals I had ever attended were for elderly relatives. With each passing mile, I became more restless. As we entered the city, the tears began to stream. I couldn’t stop them. It was like a dam had been released. I knew what was coming. I felt embarrassed.

Scott wasn’t crying. He was staring expressionless at the road ahead. I tried so hard to stop the tears. To hold them back. To be strong.

I could not control it. Scott squeezed my hand tightly as we pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home. His hands were warm. I felt safe in his grasp. As he turned the car off, our eyes met. He held me tight and we prayed softly for the strength we would need to get through the night.

~Journal entry January 27^th, 2010~

Today was the visitation for Eric. I am emotionally drained and I don’t think I have any tears left in me.  My heart aches with sorrow, guilt, guessing and mostly the unknown. Eric was so sweet—corky. How can he really be gone? REALLY- this can’t be real! I feel like I am watching a dream sequence or like I am an actress in a play—only, I forgot my lines. Even….. I don’t feel real.

His body was so cold- very cold. Even his hair. That’s what made me realize he was really dead- even though I still half expected him to hop up at any minute.

Would he have known so many people would mourn him?

Can he see us—hear us?

Does he know how much we loved him?

Why didn’t we visit him more?

Why didn’t I hug him more?

Why did I give him such a hard time about protein bars?

Why did I argue with Scott over picking up his tab the last night we went to dinner.

Money.

Yes, that really matters right now.

What I wouldn’t give to buy him dinner right now. What am I saying? This cannot even be real. But, who dreams sick dreams like this? My heart aches with pain. I have so many questions and no one to answer them. Where was he with God? He wrestled with him so much but, where was his heart? I have pleaded with God that he be with Him.

Where was I?

How is this even possible? 

How did he die?

Was it suicide?

Is there any alternative idea at this point?

Again—where were we?

Why has it been so long since he has come to visit?

Why am I so self-absorbed?

I just want to wake up. It kills me to watch Scott cry. His brokenness is unbearable.  Why am I not able to pray today?}

~Journal entry January 28^th, 2010~

Today will be the funeral. I am not really sure that I have any tears left. This is our last chance to say goodbye but, the questions continue.

Why didn’t I pray for him more?

Why didn’t I speak God’s word over his pain and depression? I could have prayed him through this…..could I have? Yes, I could.

Why didn’t I?

Where was my urgency?

Who else am I neglecting?

How will I know?

I can’t fix this. I can’t change this but, I can change me. I can change how I love people and respond to their needs.

Why was I so ignorant?

I just wish I could talk to him and tell him, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for him more. I just hope he knew we loved him—how many people loved him. I wish I could make him dinner right now. He loved my chicken enchilada casserole.

Why did he love me so much? I was a terrible friend.  

No—I loved him I just didn’t make it a priority. So many other meaningless things were in my way.

How do you even discern between things…prioritize….triage? God, please wrap your arms around him now. Let him drink of your spirit and enjoy you now.

I guess I am ready—as ready as you can ever be for a friend’s funeral. God, please cover Scott today. Give him comfort and peace today. Heal your land.

~Journal entry January 30^th, 2010~

Today sucks. I feel like I am living in a constant state of anxiety mixed with nausea. There is a cloud of doom hanging over me. I just want to get away. Scott is in denial. He has not mentioned Eric’s name since the funeral. He wants to stay busy. The sight of people makes me ill.

We go to spend a night with my parents while we are in town.

Scott is smiling and laughing with my parents, I feel like I am suffocating. Why is this so hard for me?

I have known Eric for 6 years to Scott’s 15 years.

Is Scott in shock?

I feel like I will suffocate or explode at any second. Then, I feel guilty for feeling so awful.

If Scott can get on with life, why can’t I?

I check my work email and over flow with stress—normal work tasks sicken me. How will I face Monday morning? I have to get up and be…normal?

I just want to be alone.

I want to know why my heart aches so much.

We go to dinner with my parents. People around us are laughing.

Don’t these people know what has happened to us? I feel like the whole world should stand still. Everyone is just living- doing normal things. Why didn’t I try harder? It kills me. I will never get another chance to fix this—ever. And, if he is not with Jesus…the thought makes me sick. I cannot take this. WHY DID I NOT INTERCEED IN PRAYER FOR HIM? How do I know who to intercede for? My friend is dead. I will never be able to change that. He was only 26.

The Present--

There are things I will never be able to change. I will always regret the busyness that kept us from intervening in our friend’s life when he needed us most. I will always long for one more day to hug his neck and tell him we love him. My mind will dance with what ifs and should haves. But, none of it will bring him back. It has been one year and two months since we lost our friend. We just cried over it together last week, as we came across a list we made together entitled “Things we never want to forget about Eric.” My husband said that he has mourned his death every day. He said that a piece of him died with Eric that day. There is no way I could even begin to explain how special he was. He was unlike anyone I have ever known. I would give up any material thing to have five minutes with him now. After all this time, his name, a picture, and several random things remind us of him.  I will never look at my wedding picture and not think of him. He was a part of most of our memories from the first six years of our relationship. He occupies a place in our hearts that cannot be filled and can never be forgotten. When I close my eyes, he is smiling.

Things we never want to forget about Eric

1.)           His smile

2.)           His love for people

3.)           The time he peed with the bathroom door    open at my house

4.)           Visiting the cheap taco stands

5.)           Playing disc golf together

6.)           He ate all of my giant box of protein bars the first day I bought them

7.)           He was a groomsman at our wedding

8.)           Double dates at the movies

9.)           He walked around my house in boxer shorts.

10.)   He brought a flask to my wedding

11.) Following him around the house trying to make him think he was crazy

12.) Crazy late night debates and talks about God

13.) The way he laughed

14.) Setting him up with girls that were never right for him

 

Another one bites the dust

There is nothing more annoying than someone bringing me in a room full of other pregnant people and telling me there "great news". (eye roll) Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled for them, but seriously, if you know someone has been trying to get pregnant for 2 years and you only tried for 3 freaking months.....BE A LITTLE MORE SENSITIVE! At least try to tell them when they are not surrounded by all the other happy pregnant people and then proceed to talk about the glorious occassion and share pregnant stories. But, the worst of all is when I have to hear all about how uncomfortable being pregnant is and how it hurts so much. Suck it up, you have been pregnant for 2 flipping months. People have babies all the time....stop being so dramatic and stop complaining about the one thing I want more than anything. Stop walking around groaning and holding your belly, looking so exasperated. We get it....your pregnant...no need to make a scene everytime you walk in a room.
While we are on the subject: Please don't ask a woman over 30 when she is going to have children. If she wanted you to know, she would have told you. Certainly do not offer your unsolicited advice about how "You should not wait too long....or you may never get pregnant".... or "Your aren't getting any younger." No shit! I know how old I am.

My favorite though is when people give me advice on how to get pregnant. Guess what....I know how it works. I remember that lesson in 6th grade health. I do not need any tips. Don't tell me not to worry so much or to be less stressed. Mind your own business. If I wanted advice, I would ask for it.

Don't tell me "It will happen for you...just be patient." Wow, that really means a lot from someone who got pregnant the first month. You don't know how I feel. You probably never will. Stop trying to pretend you do

Completion is upon me. Comfort is luminous. I struggle no longer. I choose not to self destruct. I choose freedom. My chains are free. I trust in the Lord and He gives me courage. He gives me strength. I want no longer. My arms are untangled. I breathe in the fresh air of freedom. The fight is over. I won the battle of the flesh and claim victory, Spring has come. Winter has disintegrated. Ashes in the wind. Now, it is morning. My joy over flows. He lives in me.
Decisions
Choices
Anger
Regret
Disappointment
Justification
Forgiveness
Redemption
Freedom
Complete.

It's over.

How do little children get cancer? How does an evil poison invade an innocent precious child? How is it that the only medical cure is to fill the child's body with an even stronger poison.
I don't understand. There are so many things I do not understand. What I know is that God is healing him. His whole body will be healed and restored into better condition than it started. The holy God of the universe holds this child in His large hands. He weeps when we weep. He delights in our desperate prayers and joys in our relentless faith. Bigger things are yet to come. He knows why, He is in control. My God, my King will heal this land.

I am my Father's child

I am courageous.
I am joyful.
I am peaceful.
I am merciful.
I am forgiving.
I am stubborn
I am relentless.
I am strong.
I am elated.
I am jubilant.
I am resilient
I am high-spirited.
I am bold.
I am compassionate.

I am healed.
I am my Father's child.

Daddy

The one who lives under the protection of the Most High dwells in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “My refuse and my fortress, my God in whom I trust.” He Himself will deliver me from the hunter’s net, from the destructive plague. He will cover you with His feathers, and you will take refuge under His wings. His faithfulness will be your protective shield. You will not fear the terror of the night, the arrow that flies by day, the plague that stalks in the darkness, nor the pestilence that ravages at noon. Though a thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, the pestilence will not reach you. You will only see it with your eyes and witness the punishment of the wicked. Because you have made the Lord-my refuge, the Most High—your dwelling place, no harm shall come to you; no plague shall come near your tent. For He has given His angels orders concerning you to protect you in all of you ways. The will support you with their hands so that you will not even strike your foot against a stone. You will tread on the lion and the cobra; you will trample the young lion and serpent. Because He is loving devoted to me, I will deliver him; I will exalt him because he knows my name. When he calls out to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in time of trouble. I will rescue him and give him honor. I will satisfy him with a long life and show him my salvation.

Psalms 91…… This is the God I love. No matter I have done and all the times I fail. H takes me back and gives me the world. This is my Daddy.

Let's begin

The first step is always the hardest. Right? I started writing everyday for a grad school class and realized that I loved sharing the mundane moments of my life combined with slices of chaos with someone ...or noone. Though I enjoyed writing, I had a hard time being raw and real with my colleagues. My fear was that by exposing my personal life I would distract from my professional image. I have no purpose other than to have an open court to watch my words romanticize a cyber world.