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The Rebellious Boob Chronicles: The Day I Cried for Me…

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Hearing the words that you have cancer is nothing short of devastating. No matter how much faith you have, no matter how strong you are, no matter how healthy and active you are, no matter how positive you are, no matter how much you have tried to prepare yourself for the worst, it is still quite unsettling to be faced with that worst. When I first felt that something wasn’t quite right with my body, I immediately began to pray. Hebrews 4:16 tells me to “come boldly to the throne of grace to obtain and mercy and grace in a time of need. So, boldly I went to the throne. Not only did I pray, but I petitioned my Lord, with many reasons, why I needed Him to fix whatever was wrong in my body. I know He listened intently like He always does, and somehow I know that because He is sovereign and He knows the end from the beginning, He grieved a little at the prognosis I was getting ready to face. All good fathers hurt when their children go through hardships. Nevertheless, because of His great love, He had prepared me for this journey in so many ways, and for that I am thankful!

On that dreadful day in January when I heard the news, I cried. I cried for my children, who I love more than life and the fact that I would have to tell them what was going on with me. I cried for the fear I would see in their eyes and the sadness that would grip their souls when they had to hear that their mom had cancer. I cried for the memories that would rush back in to their minds from the journey they had walked with their father just a few short years ago. I cried for the moments that they would lay awake and wonder why they had to endure so much in their lives at such young ages. I cried for the moments they would see their mom week and hurting and not able to do for them like I always do. I cried for all the tears they would shed silently.  I cried for the sacrifices they would make to stand by me and support me and love me through every moment. I cried as I shared the news with them and proclaimed with courage and assurance that, when it was all said and done, and this journey was complete, that everything would be okay and I would be better than I was at this moment.

On that dreadful day in January when I heard the news, I cried. I cried for my grandchildren, so young and innocent who would have to watch their momsy struggle with a disease called breast cancer that they would have no understanding of. I cried for the moments that they would want me to play and I would be too tired and would have to say no. I cried for the times they couldn’t come see me because they had a simple runny nose or a belly ache. I cried because at times, I wouldn’t be able to hug them and comfort them when they felt bad. I cried for the moments that I couldn’t kiss them because I would be toxic and full of chemicals. I cried at the confusion I would see in their eyes when they would look at me and I had no hair. I cried for the tears they would shed when silently. I cried for the sacrifices they would make to stand by me and support me and love me through every moment. I cried as I would somehow have to share the news with them and proclaim with courage and assurance that when this was all said and done, and this journey was complete, that everything would be okay and momsy would be better than I was at this moment.

On that dreadful day in January when I heard the news, I cried. I cried for my family who are so near and dear to my heart – my mom, sisters and brother, as I would have to share the news with them. I cried for the pain they would feel and the dread I would hear in their voice as no one wants to hear that their daughter or sister has breast cancer. I cried for my mom and the hurt that would fill her mother’s heart for her daughter as she was suffering. I cried for the moments that fear would grip my sisters heart as they wondered if the same prognosis could be theirs also. I cried for the moments they would feel helpless in helping me. I cried for the tears they would shed silently. I cried for the sacrifices they would make to stand by me and support me and love me through every moment. I cried as I shared the news with them and proclaimed with courage and assurance that, when it was all said and done, and this journey was complete, that everything would be okay and I would be better than I was at this moment.

On that dreadful day in January when I heard the news, I cried. I cried for my David, my companion, my adventurer, my partner whom, because of his closeness to the situation would have to hear the confirmation that yes, our fears were correct and I had breast cancer. I cried for the moments that would be different because I wouldn’t quite be at my best. I cried for the patience, compassion and grace he would have to possess as he watched his girlfriend change in appearance and stature. I cried for the moments that I would need from him far more than I could give. I cried for the moments he would have to endure as I fell apart at the seams in front of him. I cried for the moments in his life that would change because he chose to be mine. I cried for the tears he would shed silently.  I cried for the sacrifices he would make over the next year to stand by my side and support me and love me through every moment. I cried as I shared with him the news and proclaimed with courage and assurance that when it was all said and done, and this journey was complete, that everything would be okay and I would be better than I was at this moment.

On that dreadful day in January when I heard the news, I cried. I cried for my friends who are precious to me and the deep sighs that would escape their souls as they heard that their friend had breast cancer. I cried for the moments they would hurt because I was hurting. I cried for the efforts they would make to go out of their way to provide for me and help me. I cried for the moments they would need me and I wouldn’t know it. I cried for the tears they would shed silently. I cried for the reality we were facing together and the sacrifices they would make to stand by me and support me and love me through every moment. I cried as I shared with them the news and proclaimed with courage and assurance that when it was all said and done, and this journey was complete, that everything would be okay and I would be better than I was at this moment.

On this dreadful day in January, when I heard the news, I cried for my employers and coworkers whom I have grown to adore, as I would have to share with them that I had breast cancer. I cried as I thought about telling them that this person who they had put their trust in to achieve and be successful would be challenged over the next year. I cried as I felt disappointment in my own heart that I would somehow let them down. I cried as I sat in front of them and vowed to continue to work with diligence for the program and position that I was so passionate about. I cried for the tears they would shed silently. I cried for the sacrifices they would make as they chose to stand by me and support me and love me through every moment. I cried as I shared with them the news and proclaimed with courage and assurance that when it was all said and done, and this journey was complete, that everything would be okay and I would be better than I was at this moment.

On that dreadful day in January, when I heard the news, I cried. I cried for everyone that I loved and the changes that would come.  I cried for the sacrifices they would make to stand by me and support me and love me through every moment. I cried each time I shared the news and proclaimed with courage and assurance that when it was all said and done, and this journey was complete, that everything would be okay and I would be better than I was at this moment.

But one day while driving across the mountain, oh on this day, I cried for me. Finally I allowed the tears to fall for me as I faced the news that I had breast cancer. I cried for the sacrifices that I would make as I would walk through each moment of this journey. I cried for the moments that I wouldn’t feel like myself and my strength would wax and wane. I cried for each time I would feel myself struggling and hurting, having no control over what was happening due to the chemicals that were working for me and against me. I cried for the moments that I would look in the mirror and see the weakness in my own eyes and the changes in my appearance. I cried for the moments that I just wouldn’t feel like doing what I wanted to and I would have to surrender and rest. I cried for my body and how hard it had already fought and would have to fight to see me through this battle. I cried for the parts of me that I would inevitably lose. I cried for those moments when I couldn’t take care of my children as I always had for 23 years. I cried for the changes that would take place in me, knowing that I would never be the same again. I cried as I embraced the news that I had breast cancer and I prayed for courage and assurance that when this was all said and done, and this journey was complete, that everything would be okay and that I would be better, much better, than I was at this moment.

So on this day, I cried and I cried for me.

March 3, 2019.

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Posted by on March 14, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

The Rebellious Boob Chronicles: Round 1 – Chemotherapy doesn’t care how tough you are!

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Life has a way of shaping you. Situations and circumstances can make or break you. I decided early in life that I wouldn’t let the hardships break me so I developed this deep sense of determination to always overcome. My mother was my grand example. She fought through many years of severe domestic violence to come out standing incredibly strong and successfully raise 4 children all by herself. She worked 2 and 3 jobs at a time, always made ends meet and never gave up despite the fact that I am sure she felt like it numerous times.

Over the years if I have heard it said once, I’ve heard it said many times, “you are tough!” I’ve been labeled a strong woman by many, and I strive to wear that mantle well. Not in an arrogant fashion, but with a quiet confidence knowing that my strength and perseverance comes from a higher source and that there are 6 precious souls that depend on my abilities to always make it through. Being strong is crucial.

On January 18, 2019 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Although I wasn’t completely taken by surprise, I knew something was not going exactly right in my body, I found ironic humor in the fact that recent blood work showed that I was healthy as a horse. Everything was in perfect range! I have been blessed for the past several years to enjoy the outdoors and have spent the last two years participating in numerous intense (and sometimes completely outrageous!) adventuring. I have also been very conscious of the nutrition I have fed my body and soul and the end result was a strong physical, mental and spiritual being. I have felt the best I have ever felt in my life! All the while I am out having the time of my life adventuring; little did I know that my immune system was building itself to mammoth strength. I was unaware that it was fighting hard for me to keep the cancer contained in my breast, hallelujah!

When I was given my treatment plan of 6 rounds of chemotherapy before surgery, I determined immediately to keep a positive attitude and outlook. Everyone who heard about the diagnosis and treatment shouted the words of encouragement to me – You are tough! You got this! You will breeze through this! And I believed that with all of my heart. So here I went to the first treatment with the mindset that, yes, I AM a strong women and not even chemotherapy isn’t going to slow me down much less stop me! (ROFLOL!!  I know right! I am always the ambitious one!).

My first treatment was Monday, February 11, 2019. The treatment took 9 hours, whew! But everything went well. My doctor told me that I needed to keep up my exercise through all of this, so I stepped out of the car, went into the house to put up my stuff, and headed out the door for a mile walk. I felt victorious! Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday passed, I worked each day, and other than feeling like I was a jacked up rabbit on speed that suddenly felt like I could nap for days (totally due to the steroid and nausea meds regime to prevent sickness – which worked!) I felt good. I was conquering this thing called chemotherapy. Then Friday came…and the rude awakening that chemotherapy doesn’t care how tough you are! It does not take into consideration all of your accomplishments, victories, and achieved goals. It doesn’t care if you are a feisty, strong spirited, independent woman. It doesn’t care that you had big plans to hike for the weekend. When it decides to have its way with you, it does, and with a vengeance. These are my lessons learned from round 1 of chemical warfare on the terrorist that is residing in my rebellious boob…

When the chemicals decide they are ready to exit your body…you better have enough Imodium AD on hand to stop 20 elephants. Otherwise you will find yourself becoming intimate with your bathroom and losing 10 pounds in less than 48 hours.

Coconut water is a great source of hydration, unless you drink too much. Then it acts like a natural laxative – which isn’t good if you are experiencing chemo dump! Ugh!

Protein meal replacement shakes are a great source of nutrition when you don’t feel like eating because your mouth has been attacked by the chemical warfare and you feel like you have eaten shards of glass for breakfast. Unless…you are lactose intolerant and they are lactose based. Yeah you guessed it…hello bathroom!

A cold bowl of ice cream tastes so good when your mouth is on fire…unless you are lactose intolerant and…well, refer to the above statement!

Chemicals exiting your body burn like a forest fire out of control. Thank God I wasn’t throwing up and it wasn’t my esophagus feeling like a marriage of gasoline and matches. ( that is all I will say about that!)

Muscle spasms are no fun! Especially if you are dehydrated from running to the bathroom for two days because of chemotherapy, coconut water and lactose based foods. Except for a cramp in my calf or toe over the years, I had never had a muscle spasm in 49 years and had no clue that something could seize up your whole body make you feel like someone was stabbing a knife into your pelvic bone, all the while pulling your muscles all the way to your chest tighter than a rubber band. Holy freaking moly!

Chemotherapy can cause your mouth to sizzle like you have eaten a bowl full of pop rocks (remember that childhood candy??) And then suddenly, out of nowhere, you can wake up feeling like you have swallowed a desert of cacti. Two words…miracle mouthwash. HAVE IT ON HAND!

No matter how much of a go-getter you are, you WILL take a nap almost daily and you will like it!

Do not, I repeat, do not eat a Hershey’s’ kiss 3 days after having chemotherapy. It will taste like rotten cardboard and you will cry a little because chocolate should never, ever, ever taste like that! (Wait two weeks and indulge in the M&M’s your friends bring you, you will love them as much as you always have and it will be sunshine to your soul!)

Chemotherapy is not fond of hair. That is good news for your armpits and legs,I don’t have to shave for days and days – woot woot!  However that is bad news for your head. Warning, although you know it will grow back eventually, you WILL cry when your hair starts to fall out in handfuls. Thank God and friends for pretty scarves and head covers.

Chemotherapy doesn’t care if your child has the flu. It will not allow you to take care of him and it won’t care that your heart is broke when he has to go stay somewhere else while he is contagious.

Do not, I repeat, DO NOT bite your lip the night before chemotherapy. Remember that it takes your body longer to heal because your immune system is being annihilated. If you have this protruding sore on the inside of your lip, chances are it will get in your way and you WILL bite it over and over. You will cringe every time that you do and it will get infected and hang around way too long!

Chemotherapy doesn’t bother that you never had had allergies in your life. You will wake up with a new found allergy and your eyes will water at the sight of daylight and your nose will drip constantly like a leaking faucet.

Chemotherapy and Mother Nature are wicked friends when they visit you at the same time…no other words needed.

Round 1 of chemotherapy was definitely a learning experience. I had no clue what to expect and there were moments when the side effects hit that I felt ignorant, ashamed, defeated and as helpless as a new born baby. The good news is I am a quick learner. Perseverance and determination are my lifelong companions. I take note of every little detail and for round two I am much more prepared! Does that mean I will be tougher than the chemicals that are pumping through my veins? Bahahaha…NO. I will just be smarter (and a little more pissed off than I originally was the first time around). My prayers will be that much more specific and I will fight with knowledge and diligence, and eventually, I will win this battle no matter how much chemotherapy doesn’t care.

So, let round 2 of chemical warfare on the terrorist that has invaded my body begin…

 
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Posted by on March 5, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

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When God Makes Your Coffee…

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Do you ever have this sneaking suspicion that something just isn’t right? You hear your intuition talking to you and you try your best to acknowledge it and ignore it all at the same time? Last spring through the fall (2018), there were moments I just did not feel like myself. Times, especially on the trail, that I would feel fatigued more so than I thought I should with no reasonable explanation. With having several diabetics in my family, I too have struggled some with regulating my sugar over the past few years so I would just always reason it out as being that, and perhaps some moments that was truly what was going on. However, there was this deeper gnawing in my gut that would throw these ridiculous thoughts into my head. I would shake them off and think…what the heck Christy? I would pray, rebuke (yes, I was raised charismatic! Lol), and go about my business. Then, around July or August, I started noticing a lump in my right breast changing. In 2015 I had a mammogram come back questionable, went for a diagnostic mammogram and an ultrasound and thankfully the diagnosis was just density. It was a scary moment, scary enough to make me cautious and I kept my mammograms up from that point on, even when I didn’t have health insurance. (Kuddos to a grant at your local health department. Check it out!) Always, it showed up, always it came back as density. In November of 2018, I made yet another regular mammogram appointment, went, received the same diagnosis and was scheduled for yet another diagnostic mammogram and ultra sound for January 3, 2019. This time seemed a little different than the last, the concerns a little more pressing, more care taking during the examination and I somehow knew that a biopsy was on the menu. Now I am a faith filled woman who believes in praying about everything, I had already been talking to God about the possible outcomes and reasoning with him why having something wrong with me would not work at this stage in my life.  My biggest concern, my fear, my pleas…My children, Lord, please don’t make them walk this road again. My children lost their dad to colon cancer in 2011 and needless to say it has been a very tragic and painful road for them. Please Lord, not for my sake, but for theirs, let everything be okay.

I shared the news of the upcoming biopsy with a few close friends to have them pray for my outcome. One of my girlfriends, you know the kind that have been intertwined into your being and became an essential part of your life?  She agreed to go with me to the biopsy, just in case, for comfort and support. And thus it was scheduled, January 10, 2019. I got up that morning standing somewhere between confidence, faith and agitation. I really didn’t have time for all this. I opened my phone to Facebook and my memory from January 10, 2018 stared me in the face: “Dear Christy, when I choose not to move the mountain, then what?” Lamentations 3:21-25. (FYI: My Dear Christy series is a whole other blog!)  I felt like I had been hit with a ton of bricks. I had been fervently praying for God to move the mountain I anticipated in the distance, and it was at that moment I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, inevitably, me and my children were going to be facing a mountain not of our choosing. Emotion consumed me and I let out a huge sigh. I admit I was a little pissed off at that fact that my children would again have to walk a difficult journey that they had no control over. I was fearful of what the news would do to their precious hearts. My mind full of anguish over the terror that would be piercing to their souls when I had to tell them the news that their mother had cancer. I’m a fairly persistent woman so again I pleaded with my Lord, please; do not make them walk this journey.  Please. Not this mountain, Lord. I said nothing to my children and settled within myself that I wouldn’t say anything until I had something in concrete to tell them.

Fast forward to January 18, sitting in the doctor’s office with my soul sister again by my side. The diagnosis: invasive ductal carcinoma in my right breast. Two places, Stage 1 and 2. I scheduled an appointment with the surgeon and left the office in a fog, trying to figure out how I could get through this diagnosis perhaps without even having to tell my children. I just knew when I went to the surgeon that she would tell me that I would need a simple surgery to remove the lumps and all would be well. ROFLOL right?  I‘m so ambitious.

On January 22, a normal Tuesday evening, I asked all my children to join me for dinner at our house as I had to share the news with them. The next year of our lives would involve months of chemotherapy, surgery, more protein chemotherapy, and reconstructive surgery.  My heart broke as I saw the look in their eyes and heard the gasps escape from deep within. They were devastated and they had every right to be. Why Lord? Not why me? Hundreds of women a day hear the same news, if not worse, but my question was, why them Lord? Why again?  What on earth do you have for them to do that requires all of this suffering and growth at such an early age?  I know this journey will be different from the last one, but why, Lord? My heartfelt prayer was simply God give them grace, peace and strength for this journey. Make your presence known to us Lord. We have to know that you are with us every step of this way Lord. We have to.

Over the next several days, we talked, we cried, we talked more, laughed a little, cried more and prayed much. As the moments passed, I sensed a peace that passes understanding envelope us all. Sunday evening rolled around before my first treatment and I was busy trying to get everything prepared for the next morning. Bag packed with goodies and things to occupy the time, clothes picked and laid out, snacks, water, and oh, before I lay down, let me get my coffee pot ready so that I can just hit the button in the morning when I am ready to brew. No need to turn on the timer, I will just have it ready and it will be one less thing I have to focus on. The clock flashing 12:00 am.  Prayers. Goodnight.

Morning rose and so did I, like a warrior, ready to face what was before me. I showered, dressed and prayed fervently again for God to make his presence known to us today in a mighty way. I was collecting my things and remembered my coffee, time to turn it on! I walked into the kitchen and to my surprise there in my coffee pot sat a freshly brewed pot of coffee. It was finishing up its last drip as I flipped on the light. I was a little puzzled as how this had happened. I distinctly remembered NOT turning on the timer to set it, so I looked again at the clock and it was flashing 12:00 am as it had been doing the night before. No one had been up in my house yet, no one had been stirring except for me and God.
God? Did you make my coffee for me?   Did you really turn my pot on for me and make my coffee?

The same God who spoke the worlds into existence, and separated the day from the night. The same God who holds the stars in their place and calls them all by name. The same God who formed the mountains and measured out the seas. The same God who stores the treasuries of the snow and releases them in due season. The same God who gave his son for a ransom so that I could know Him by name. That  very same God had showed up in my quaint little kitchen on a rainy Monday morning in February and turned my coffee pot on. True story! Yes, yes He did! The same God who had walked with us so far in this journey of life is the same God who was saying to me loud and clear, I am here, I am with you, and I am going to take care of you.

I know there are a lot of unknowns that I will be facing over the next year. Lots of ups, downs, surprises, irritations. After making it through my first post-chemo week I have made new discoveries about my body that wish to never have became acquainted with.  I have been dished a rude awakening to just how unbiased chemotherapy is, it doesn’t matter how tough you are, chemo doesn’t care! Did I mention I am a little pissed off about the whole thing and what subjecting myself to chemical warfare is going to do to this rock star body I have worked hard to have? (insert a little laughter – a merry heart does good like a medicine). To even say that I am excited about this journey in the physical sense is absurd. No, I am far from excited. Yet in a few short hours, days and weeks, I have been showered with so many blessings, covered in abundant fervent prayers, received overwhelming support and love and have made connections with women that will be forever set in stone. Do I have a feeling this is going to be one of the worst times of my life? Heck yes!  However I face it head on, with courage and know that it will also be a season coupled with one of the best times of my life.  When the God of all creation cares enough about me and my children to show up and make my coffee for me, what other grand things is he going to do through this journey? This is my story, stay tuned….

 
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Posted by on February 17, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

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Random thoughts…

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Believe in your own beauty. Own your individuality. Speak your heart. Show raw emotion. Be bold. Pursue what sets your soul on fire. If you fall down, get back up. If you need help, ask. If you hurt, cry. If you’re happy, laugh! Sing! Dance!Love! Be inspired and inspiring. Be real. Don’t compare yourself to others. Never judge anyone who isn’t quite like you and never judge them on hearsay. Live in a manner that if someone said something bad about you, no one would believe them! Ignore the need to toot your own horn. Never think you are better than someone else regardless of their situation, or yours. We are all humans just trying to make it through. And last but not least, never let morons drive you over the edge to the point that you cut them 😉

 
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Posted by on November 2, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

I Am Not Afraid

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I am not afraid of change,
mistakes or failure
But I am afraid of giving up and not trying
I am not afraid of climbing high
or crawling low
even if it makes me tremble inside
But I am afraid of letting fears control my life
of constraining me
of making my soul grow stagnate
I am not afraid of being bold
adventurous, silly
Of pushing the limits
to live life to the full
But I am afraid of the mundane,
Of not putting forth an effort
Of lying down at night feeling empty and stale
I am not afraid of being alone
But I am afraid of being somewhere
that isn’t right for me
of losing myself because others don’t approve
I am not afraid of silence or solitude
those moments with just me and my thoughts
But I am afraid of being in
the midst of company and
feeling lonely, inadequate
unheard and insignificant
I am not afraid of love
of heartache or of pain
Of losing and starting over again
But I am afraid of growing cold and bitter and weary in a world that takes so much and gives so little
I am not afraid of adversity
difficult times or the storm
But I am afraid of the parched pale sky
That never gives me an opportunity
to dance in the rain
I am not afraid of the passion burning inside of me
Nor that you may never understand it
or embrace it
But I am afraid of never fanning the flames
Of letting the embers fade to ashes
that quickly blow away
I am not afraid of being me
or of you not liking it
but I am afraid of looking in the mirror
and loathing what I see
I am not afraid of being human, finite
of some day coming to an end
But I am afraid of dying inside
while there is still blood in my veins
I am not afraid to face my fears
To challenge them
To conquer them
To allow them to make me better
Of that I am not afraid

(picture credit: Brandi Baldwin taken on the MST in the beautiful Chimneys of the Linville Gorge)

 
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Posted by on July 14, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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Reflections…

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Each year I always like take the time to sit down and ponder over all the things that have happened in my life over the past 365 days. The good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. The accomplishments, mistakes, milestones, stumbling blocks and sometimes downright nosedives. From the lessons learned to the “oh my gosh, not again!” moments. In a nutshell, here is my 2016 in random thoughts.

 I was reminded of what it felt like to let go and fall in love.
To soar high above the clouds on the wings of emotional bliss.
To throw off all inhibitions and common sense and relish in the fairy tale moments.

I also remembered how to face reality.
To
realize that even the grandest of love doesn’t change some things.
People are who they are, and so are you and sometimes that’s like mixing oil and water.
It doesn’t make either person bad, just different, and that’s okay.
Move on with grace.
Never lose your sparkle and don’t be mad at them for keeping theirs!
(and never cut a mother cracker unless they absolutely leave you no other option!)

I learned a hard lesson in friendships.
I discovered that silence really is golden.
Sometimes the best response is no response at all,
no matter how many efforts there are to provoke you.
What folks do unto others, they will also do unto you in due time and it’s their problem, not yours.
Burn the bridges instead of the people because, well, setting people on fire is illegal! 

I relished in the true bonds of friendship and loyalty.
I felt the deep heartache as a dear friend said her final goodbyes.
Letting go of someone you love hurts immensely and the pang of missing them never fades.
Life goes on but it will never be the same.

Words are powerful. They can build up or destroy.
At times they can hurt more than a physical blow.
Insults, subtle or bold, can be the hands wrapped around your neck.
The fists pounding your heart.
The knife cutting your soul.
Cuts heal. Bruises fade. Broken bones heal.
But the wounds of cruel words spoken out of hatred and jealousy can linger for years.
Choose carefully what you say and also what you allow to be spoken into your spirit.

I know that no matter what is going on in life, the laughter of a 3 year old can melt your heart and brighten your day.
It’s always better to forsake a grand plan of hiking mountains and climbing cliffs to take your granddaughter to see her first waterfall.
The payoff of her smile is much grander than any mountaintop!

I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that a mother’s heart is one of God’s greatest creations.
Its love is as vast and deep as the ocean.
The heartache it can endure is immeasurable and the rewards it celebrates, innumerable.
A grandmother’s heart is even more unique.
It loves with patience and grace that can only come with years of experience.
And you can never have too many grandbabies! Welcome Austin Ryder 3-18-16.

You can turn any mishap into a fun experience…its all in how you tell the story!
(Trust me I know this one is true!)

Peace of mind, heart and soul are priceless necessities.
Nothing or no one that steals those from you is worth your time or attention.
It’s not selfish to love yourself. You have to! Or you will never be able to truly love others.
Make time for others but also take the time to feed your own soul.

 Be authentic…always! Eventually the truth comes out anyways.

Compassion always wears rose colored glasses – even when your eyesight is 20/20.

There is a little bit of psycho in each of us.
Self discipline is the key to stay on the other side of the fine line.
Woe to the fool who stirs up the resting beast.
(I know this one to be true also but I’ll leave you guessing on how…;) ) 

Hope can seem like an oxymoron but feeling hopeless is a dreadful state to be in.
When life doesn’t work out the way you planned, have no regrets.
Be better not bitter.
Everyone is fighting their own battle.
Sometimes you can make a difference.
Sometimes you can’t.
But always strive to leave people better than you found them.

The greatest thing you can do for yourself is to live everyday like its your last.
Play hard and love harder.
Be kind and smile at strangers.
Cry when you need to and laugh more than you should!

Life is a gift.
Make a ton of stories along your way.
It’s the journey, not the destination that counts!

Happy 2017 folks!
Let’s get this party started!

Some of my favorite moments in 2016…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on January 1, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Of Summits, Storms and a God Who Works Suddenly

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In May 2015 for my youngest son, Oliver’s 13th birthday he asked me to take him hiking. Well of course I was elated with the request and happily obliged. Our first mother, son hike was to Grayson Highlands Park in Mouth of Wilson Virginia to take in the two Pinnacles. The weather was perfect, the skies were amazing and the company simply out of this world.

As winter 2015 began to dissipate into Spring, the topic of another birthday hike arose. Where to this year? I knew the answer immediately and shared with him that I would like to take him to one of my personal favorites, Hawksbill Mountain in the Linville Gorge. I couldn’t talk enough about how mesmerized he would be with the landscape and the views the gorge had to offer so plans were set for the 2nd annual mother/son birthday hike.

Well, May came and went with busy schedules, rainy weather, baseball season and other obstacles that seemed to constantly put off the planned hike. However, finally in August (yeah I know…way belated!) on a busy Tuesday, Oliver and I loaded up the pack and headed towards the Linville Gorge. Like an efficient mom/hiker would do, I checked the weather and saw it was only a 15 – 20 % chance of rain so I figured we should be good. Partly cloudy conditions have a way of painting up the blue sky and creating stunning views over the gorge and I was beside myself that we were finally getting to go.

The drive over was a little sketchy as we were greeted with gray skies upon entering North Carolina. By the time we reached the trail head a steady drizzle of rain was falling. “Surely it won’t last long,” I thought, and with Oliver being a willing trooper off we headed up the trail. Silently I prayed for the Lord to please stop the rain and clear up the skies for us, I so wanted Oliver to behold the views from Hawksbill, but the further up we went, the more it rained. By the time we reached the top of the trail we were completely drenched from head to toe. Oliver got to experience a white-out condition for the first time and I admit my heart sunk a little as we stared off into the thick fog only to see nothing…absolutely nothing. No tree tops, no mountains, no Table Rock, no Chimneys , no  Camel in sight. No Wiseman’s View, no Linville River down below and no Shortoff Mountain in the far distance. With our eyes pierced and searching we came up empty! Everything I had excitedly shared with him for months was hidden before us as we were engulfed by the storm. I was sorely disappointed and felt like my prayers had fallen on deaf ears.

The white-out view from the top of the Spine and the Summit

We carefully played around for a few minutes at the top of the spine of Hawksbill, getting a few shots for keepsake, but after my feet slipped completely out from under me leaving me lying flat on my back in a spot that I have stepped on several times, we decided to retreat from the spine and head on up to the summit. I am a persistent little bugger at times so I continued to pray that the Lord would PLEASE let the skies clear up for Oliver to see what marvelous things surrounded him. The rain lingered, the fog thickened and my heart sank a little more with each step. We reached the summit, grabbed a few more photo ops and decided to call it a day and head back down. As I was gathering my pack Oliver pointed out a patch of blue in the skies above us. It was a small patch but nevertheless a patch of blue!! We agreed to wait for just a few more minutes and our decision seemed quite futile until suddenly…boom! The fog dissipated, the skies opened up and one by one the magnificent wonders of the gorge came into view. Oliver’s reaction to the glory that laid before him was filled with awe exactly as I imagined it would be. I shouted out loud praise and thanksgiving for an answered prayers! (okay – really they can classify as constant desperate pleas under my breath the whole way up and there). For almost an hour we carefully played and took pictures. I emphasize carefully, taking into consideration the tons of rain, slick rocks, summits, and death worthy plunges into the gorge with one false step. The rain drenched trip suddenly turned out quite fabulous and mom and son took time to enjoy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich together at 4020 feet above sea level.

 

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Jumping for joy on Hawksbill Mountain

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Suddenly everything changed!

Heading back down the mountain I pondered in my heart the overall conditions of the trip and how suddenly things changed for us. One minute the sky was covered in heavy gray fog, the next minute it seemed as if the heavens had opened up and poured its glory upon us. I was so thankful that we endured with patience and waited just a few more minutes or we would have missed out on so many marvelous moments. After stopping a few times to collect some cool mushroom shots, we made it back to the ole Honda and we were headed back to the homestead. Later on in the evening as I was kicked back and going through our pictures, I observed the incredible difference that just a few moments made and again let praise and thanksgiving escape my lips – “thank you God for answering my prayers!” It was then I heard His response, “By the way, I heard you the first time you prayed and I answered you, it just took some time for the conditions to be right. First, I had to move the storm out.” Wow, I let that sink in a little….

Yes, as soon as the conditions were right on the mountain there was a sudden change! It went from not seeing 10 feet from your face to seeing clearly to the end of the horizon.

Not immediately. Not quickly. But suddenly everything changed. Insert another life lesson from the trail:

Is life kicking your butt? Do you feel like your prayers have fallen on deaf ears? Suddenly…

Do you feel like you are wondering around blinded by all the chaos around you? Have you slipped a time or two in familiar territory falling flat on your back in failure? Suddenly…

Are the storms of life engulfing you? Suddenly…

Has your faith been dimmed by the lingering fog that envelopes your senses and leaves you feeling hopeless? Suddenly…

Have you been praying for something/someone relentlessly and things seem to only get worse? Suddenly…

Are you weary? Discouraged? Downhearted? Feeling like it’s time to give in? Suddenly…

At this moment I share with you the same thing the Almighty God of Heaven shared with me. His word assures us over and over that:

He absolutely hears our prayers. (Psalm 66:19-20, 2 Kings 20:5)

He is constantly working on our behalf. (Romans 8:28) (Psalm 68:28 NRSV)

He is our warrior and fights the battle for us. (Exodus 14:14)

He is on our side and if that is so, who can oppose us? (Romans 8:31)

He renews us and strengthens our weary hearts (Isaiah 40:31)

I am so thankful that we waited just a few more minutes on the summit of that mountain. Had we left 5 minutes earlier we would have missed what was in store for us. What are you waiting for? I can personally tell you that for the past few months I have been walking through one of the most difficult parenting seasons of my life. There are times that I think my mothering heart can’t take one more iota of aching. Times that I lay before the throne of God and weep and plea for Him to do something. Times I question whether He even hears me. Times I wonder if He is truly going to come and work on our behalf. I want Him to do things immediately! Quickly! Geez Lord hurry up! Times I am weary from the climb and drenched from the storms. But I am reminded on this day that there is a “suddenly” on the horizon for you and for me. There is an appointed ‘suddenly’ that will change everything. Keep climbing that mountain, keep enduring that storm because suddenly God is on His way.

(scripture references of God working suddenly:

On the Mount of Transfiguration: “suddenly” Moses and Elijah were seen conversing with Jesus (Matthew 17:). The Holy Spirit arrived on Pentecost “suddenly” (Acts 2:2). “Suddenly” a light blinded Saul of Tarsus (Acts 9:3-4). When he and Silas were imprisoned, a severe earthquake came “suddenly” (Acts 16:25-26). There was Sirach. “For it is easy with the Lord suddenly, in an instant, to make a poor man rich” (11:21-22).

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My Oliver overlooking the Gorge from Hawksbill Summit

A few mushrooms found along the way 🙂

 
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Posted by on August 10, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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