pinky promise.(:

I've been thinking a lot lately at how the cliche "my, how time flies" is so very true.

 was looking back through an old photo album on my facebook and it had picture after picture of Ry.



10 months and just as cute as he could be!



so hard to believe he's 3 now!!



 

best friends forever. pinky promise.

















Clicking through each picture, I remembered a conversation Amy and I had recently about writing everything down that he used to say. I began to rack my brain...
It started out simple: Gip=pig. MooOoo=cow. Astheu=Ashley.
Then as he got older and started talking better, he came up with things like:
"b-nana", "mac-i-roni nuts" and one of my very favorites, "now I love you with my ABC's."
Now as he is getting older and proudly wearing that "big boy" title, it's more of: "let's sing the monkey song", "my mommy said I can stay at your house", can I have hot chocolate, please?" (chocolate milk) and "pinky promise?" (a question that melts my heart every time its spoken)

It's crazy to me how much he has grown...I can only imagine how Jason and Amy feel.(:
The last few years have flown by so fast. He's learning. Growing. He's not that 10 month old that laughs when you give him kisses...he's that "big boy" that wipes them off with the back of his hand as he is walking away. He's that "big boy" who is independent and likes to do things himself. He's that "big boy" who sometimes, if im lucky, will crawl up in my lap and just snuggle...until he realizes...then its a quick get away and back to playing buzz lightyear and singing the monkey song.
I'm sad he's growing up so fast, but thankful I get to watch him grow into the wonderful person God had made him to be.

And thankful I get to do it all over again with Kasen(:

old and worn...

Man, so much has happened this week...I don't even know where to begin. 


What really hit me the hardest was receiving a phone call at 6:30 p.m. Tuesday saying that Pa (my granddad) had been in the emergency room ALL DAY. 


My first thought (selfish me) was "WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME?!?"


Many excuses were thrown my way as I was trying to figure out why I had no idea what was going on...


I began thinking about the time I got to spend with him on friday. (thanks for the reminder, Ana(: ) We were sitting in the den at his house about to watch John Wayne when he fell asleep. I slipped out of the den and headed for my aunt's old bedroom where they keep all the cool old stuff. :) On the headboard of her bed there are two cabinents...one on each side. I opened the one on the right and letters began to spill out. I started reading them and came across this: (spelled like I had spelled it then)
"Dear Pa,
your my fravorite." 


My eyes began to fill with tears as I realized that I was reading the letter I had written him when I was little. I remember exactly what we were told to do. Write a letter to your best friend.  Peering at the imperfect handwriting on the paper I gripped lightly in my shaking hands, I began to read it out loud.


"i am glad we ar frends. i smile when i remeber playing in the park and swinging. you always push me to high but i know if i falled you will save me becuse you are my hero. i know that other girls have a Pa that is there hero but my Pa is the best hero in the world. i like waching (watching) you work on cars. but i like it better when you read me the sleepy skwerl (squirrel..haha) book. i want to write a book about us. you can be the hero and i will be the little girl. (I always knew I wanted to be a writer. (: ) i love you pa. forever and ever.


love,
lady-di."


I began to cry as I thought about that sweet moments we used to share...and how I wished I could make them last forever. I couldn't sleep as I was letting my mind wander. What is going to happen? Is he going to be ok? Is he mad at me for not going to see him? Question after question flooded my mind. I finally drifted off to sleep...the hours I had left until work I could count on one hand. 


Oh, how I wish to be the little girl again. 


He will always be my hero...

sweet rest.

"When the Lord brought back the captive ones of Zion, we were like those who dream. 
Then our mouth was filled with laughter and our tongue with joyful shouting; then they said among the nations 'The Lord has done great things for them.'" Psalm 126: 1-2


I'm a dreamer again. 


Over the last few weeks I've started trusting sleep again. 


I remember a time when I was little and I would have beautiful dreams. They were never about anything that happened at school or even about movies I had watched. They were always about beautiful things...like flowers and paintings and sunsets...things like that. That might sound strange for a little girl to dream like that...but I loved it. 


But, something stole that from me. I began to have nightmares and I completely dreaded sleeping. Starting in high school, I would stay up all hours of the night doing anything from writing, cleaning, walking, driving, facebook, etc., then try to function the next day. It continued until just a couple of weeks ago. I was still staying up all night, then I would go to work from 7-6 with 11 crazy but oh, so sweet 2 year olds. I never knew that my attitude was reflecting onto my kids. I would go and go and go until there was nothing left. Then, do the same thing the next night. It was a vicious cycle and it was wearing me thin. 


I hated sleep. I would make jokes about how overrated it was, but deep down, I longed to be able to lay my head down on my pillow, close my eyes and not flash back to one of the most horrible and scarring times in my life. A time I never wanted to face again. Daylight would come and it would slip from my mind, but as soon as night would fall, it crept up on me like a thief.


This is how life was before the weekend of Feb. 25th...before the Women's Retreat.


On the second night of the retreat I pulled a friend to the side and asked if we could talk. I didn't know exactly how this was going to go, but I was going to lay all my crap out on the table and say, "this is my mess" and hope that she didn't think i was absolutely crazy. Her response was the complete opposite. She was so welcoming, loving, understanding...I can't believe I expected any less. We talked for awhile and she encouraged me in a lot of ways, but what stuck out to me the most was when she said, "You have a choice. You can either continue walking in this or you can walk in freedom. What's it going to be?"


Wow. I had a choice. I think deep down that I knew I had a choice, but all my life I had other people make choices for me, so I was scared to make one for myself. 


She continued talking as I was trying to digest the question she had asked. My mind was slipping in and out of our conversation and I was only catching bits and pieces (I'm not sure if it was because she really got me with the freedom question or if it was because we were crowding 2 a.m.).


The next thing I heard her say slammed into me like a ton of bricks. Something I had heard before, but something I had definitely been avoiding.


"It's time to talk to Reba."


No, Ana was not suggesting that I talk to the country music singer. 


For those of you who don't know, Reba Russell has a ministry at Messiah's House called Total Freedom Ministry. When I would hear people talk about her or this ministry, I would shut down. The walls would go up and I would check out of the conversation. I might not have liked where I was in life, but the thought of freedom from it, the thought of freedom from something I had always known, something I was used to...it was just unheard of. Silly, right? So, as always, I quickly changed the subject hoping she would just kind of forget she mentioned that. 


We talked a few minutes longer, then headed to bed....only to be woken up less than 5 hours later.(: haha.


I got ready Sunday morning, skipped breakfast and waited impatiently to leave. We made it to church shortly before it began. Worship started and I can remember thinking, "I'm so exhausted Lord." We started singing a song that Bradley wrote, "I want to be who I was made to be". Before I knew it, my tear ducts were on overdrive. I was sitting in my chair just sobbing. Several women surrounded me and started praying over me. I could hear Marci, Jacque and Cheryl singing "It's all gonna be okay" over me as I just crumbled and wept. Ana came over and said, "just let me hold you". I hugged her and continued to weep as the Lord was showing me that this is where I belonged, that I had a family with these women and with everyone in Messiah's House and that it is a safe place. It had been right in front of me for almost three years but I had spent those three years pushing people away.


Cheryl asked me to go out in the foyer so I could just take some time to just cry. Marci, Ana and Nancy followed closely behind. I got to the doors at the back of the sanctuary and there she was...Reba was standing there waiting. She took my hand and instantly I felt safe. A sense of peace came over me and I knew it was the Holy Spirit flowing through her and into me. 


I'm not going to go into great detail on this because it's for another time and another blog, but I believe that the sweet encounter I had with the Lord that morning really began the giving back of my dreams.

That night, I got ready for bed and something was different. I wasn't scared. I knew that I was going to be okay because my Daddy would protect me. 


I crawled into bed (at 10:00 p.m.!!!) and it wasn't long before I drifted off into the most wonderful sleep I'd had in FOREVER.


I began to dream that I was walking down this beautiful stone path. In the stone there were different kinds of breath taking jewels...diamonds and rubies everywhere. I kept walking and soon approached these HUGE double doors...they were full of jewels as well. I pushed open the door and walked through. There were people dancing and worshipping everywhere and laughter filled the place. Flowers and the sound of birds chirping surrounded me. I kept walking and Jesus was standing there. He took me in His arms, tears of joy streaming down my face. He lifted my eyes to meet His, wiped away my tears and said, "This is what joy looks like." He then turned me around and pointed to the double doors and said, "That is your door of hope."


I woke up sobbing! I grabbed my journal and bible so I could write it down and when I opened my bible, it opened to Hosea 2 and verse 15 was highlighted. 


"Then I will give her her vineyards from there, and the valley of Achor as a door of hope. And she will sing there as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up from the land of Egypt."


Woah. 


This has been my favorite dream, so far. I know He is giving me more...and not just in the sleeping sense. I believe that He is giving back the dreams I had in my heart! 


I'm a dreamer again!

something's gotta get me started...

Several months ago, I found myself bored and desiring so much more for my life. I applied for a position at a medical clinic just for kicks and giggles. The postion entailed filing charts, making copies, and shredding paper. I don't know why I applied. I'm mostly happy with the job I have now. I know this clinic will never call me...which makes me realize that I am putting effort into things that will get me virtually nowhere. I'm sick of reality. Now, I'm going to make this sound as humble as possible, but I feel that I'm fairly intelligent. I possess the knowledge and skills to do a lot of different things and what I don't know, I tend to learn quickly. So please, someone explain to me why me not having a piece of paper that says I have experience in certain fields disqualifies me from even getting a phone call or an interview to prove to people that I'm worthy of doing the job that I applied for (assuming they aren't going to even consider). So maybe they are looking for someone with a bit more expertise, but also, did you know that some places looking for a receptionist require like 3 years of experience? In what- answering phones? Filing papers? Using a fax machine? Who knew you had to have a college education to alphabatize. It doesn't take a rocket scientist. I've also thought about maybe working at a newspaper or something. I like to think (keyword, think) I have excellent writing skills- I use good grammar and I have better spelling skills than most people my age, but because I'm only 21, don't have a degree in English and don't have experience in editing...I'm not even going to attempt. Tell me I'm not the only person that thinks this is ridiculous. I am more than qualified to do a lot of different jobs, but the reality of life is that no one will take you seriously if you're under 25, don't have a degree, don't have years of experience, or don't have any connections.

Maybe I need a degree in english.

I don't like feeling restricted or stuck. (side note: there's this pesky little bug that's been flying around me, and I'm pretty sure I just choked on him then swallowed him...) I feel restricted creatively because I can't get a few hours to myself to be totally comfortable and relaxed enough to just let some ideas flow for writings. I'm also restricted in my sleeping habits- no matter how early I turn off the lights and lay in my bed, I will not fall asleep until at least an hour after I lay down. that's just a fact I'm learning to accept. 

All in all i'm just frustrated.
My eyes are heavy.

and good news- I didn't swallow that bug. He is back to flying around my head again.

i had this dream once before...

There I was, walking through this field. Everything was dead and grey...completely unlively. With each step, i could hear sticks breaking beneath my feet...it all felt so real. I felt so lonely and broken. I was empty and hurting. Was this all that was left for me? I continued walking and out of nowhere there was this red balloon..the only color for miles and miles...just floating there. It wasn't tied to anything. Nothing was forcing it to stay in one place. It just was. Hesitating, I reached out and grabbed it. As soon as my hand touched the ribbon, everything bad that has ever happened, every hurtful and damaging situation, everything that has filled me with fear played before me like a movie.
Prying my fingers loose, I let go of the balloon and fell to the ground sobbing. "I give up." I said to myself. I laid there crying, trembling with fear. All of a sudden, something was different. I felt this overwhelming sense of warmth and peace. I uncovered my face, gazing up to see a man towering over me. His arm outstreched, He took my hand in His. Fingers entwined, He pulled me to my feet. He took my face in His hands, wiped the tears from my eyes and said, "Come to Me, my child. Listen to who you are. You are Mine. I have made you beautiful." I began looking around for the balloon. It was gone and everything was alive. The grass was green, there were flowers everywhere, birds were chirping. I looked back into His eyes and we began to dance. Spinning around and around, I felt every burden lift off of my shoulders. I was free. i AM free. :)
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you.I have called you by name, you are mine." -Isaiah 43:1.