Open your eyes

Sometimes I think I'm blind. Sometimes I completely miss the beauty that is right in front of me, whether it be an act of kindness from a stranger or my own reflection in the mirror...sometimes I just don't see good works being done in this world. I have two physical classes this semester and an independent study. All of these classes are general requirements and totally brutal to sit through and endure. I sit near the back of the room in my technology and society class. The class was pretty empty today - so empty that I could see full profiles of almost everyone in the room. In general required classes there is usually a conglomerate of people: older moms, young moms, gym junkies, sorority girls and thugs. This technology and society class is no different. But today I witnessed something that broke my heart. There's this super obnoxious boy that is literally as tall as those huge redwoods in California (I know, it's amazing he can fit in the room). He is blonde, has glasses and wears his pants waaaaay too high up on his body. He always has a nice shirt tucked into his pants and a snarky comment about everything. He definitely gets a lot of attention for always having an answer or an opinion...but hey, everyone has their own way of learning and participating. He arrived late to class this morning and walked all the way around the room and the professor to take his seat right in front. I watched him sit down and begin to unpack his things when all of a sudden my eyes became fixated on someone else. There were two grown women sitting beside and behind him making fun of his late entry to class. I watched them pretend to tuck their shirts in, act flustered and push their nonexistent glasses up so that they rested on the bridge of their noses. I sat there in shock thinking "there's no way that just happened". For the next hour I watched these women make facial expressions, gestures and laugh hysterically about the things this boy said and did. I sat helpless and heartbroken on the opposite side of the room. When class let out this boy and I were the two last ones to leave. He immediately got out his phone and called his mother. While hearing him say "hey mom, guess what I got on my paper" tugged at my heart and forced me to choke back tears, I found it comforting that someone else appreciated their mom the same way I always appreciated mine.

Yesterday I got home late from working all day. I was tired, hungry and just wanted to snuggle up on the couch and watch the Olympics. I got home and went to feed the dog only to realize I had nothing to feed her. I put myself back in the car and drove to the grocery store. I've never seen so many senior citizens in my whole entire life. They were all at the Kroger on Providence Road. Usually, I don't have a problem with older people...I think they're cute, sweet and insanely wise, but I was so done serving and pleasing other people...I just wanted to be at home in sweat pants vegging out on the couch like other people my age. I went straight to the dog food aisle, grabbed a bag and headed for the check out lanes. I think my jaw actually dropped when I saw how long the checkout lanes were and of course the self service lane was down. I had no choice but to wait in line because my dog couldn't just starve. I was in line behind the slowest woman on the face of the planet. She put four apples on the conveyer belt one at a time - at this point some choice words were swirling around my head. I began to chuckle to myself saying "is this really happening?!". But then the woman attempted to put her jug of milk on the conveyer belt and missed...milk went everywhere and it's not like she could pick it up. Someone had to bring her milk and clean up the mess before we could all proceed through the line. After finally purchasing my dog food, I began to speed walk to my car. While walking, I noticed that the old lady in front of me was wandering around the parking lot like a lost puppy. Even though I was not her biggest fan I walked over to her instead of my car and asked if she needed help. She told me what her car looked like and of course she ended up parking right next to me. I helped her put the two "heavy" bags of groceries in her trunk and watched her start the engine and drive off. I'm 130% sure she should not be driving or doing her grocery shopping by herself, but I understand the importance of wanting your own independence.

The devotion for today is from 2 Kings 6:15-22. Dangers and crises can distract our attention so much that we no longer see God in our lives. In bad times, when everything is going wrong, we must pray "Lord, open my eyes so I may see". I think a lot of the time we're seeing and choosing not to acknowledge what we see. I know I make snide comments about others to myself or my close friends, I mock people behind their back and I have opinions that I probably shouldn't share aloud. But at least I have the audacity to do it behind closed doors or to a specific friend group. I shouldn't do it at all - it's completely wrong to pick on other people and make fun of them but for some reason it's human nature. I'll tell you what you though, watching these grown women mock this highly intelligent and immaturely dressed man made me want to reevaluate everything I've ever done or said. It makes me sick to know that someone looks up to those women. It also makes me sick that others probably witnessed them mock that boy and thought nothing of it - they probably thought, "that's life". I see things all the time that I pretend not to see so that I don't have to deal with them - so that I don't have to invest any other part of my life somewhere else. I helped that woman to her car because I felt guilty about cursing her name the entire time she loaded apples onto the conveyer belt. I didn't help her because it was the right thing to do. After I helped her and she thanked me I felt good about what I had done. It shouldn't take that. We should want to help each other, even if it takes you 45 minutes to buy an $11 bag of dog food.

Growing up my mom would sing this annoying song every single morning to wake my sister and I up for school. The song went like this "It's a happy day and I thank God for the weather. It's a happy day and I'm living it for my Lord. It's a happy day and things are gonna get better, living each day by the promises of God's word". Lately that song has been stuck in my head - playing on repeat constantly. I hated the song because it was catchy, repetitive and nobody wants to be sung to at 6:45 in the morning. I don't hate it much anymore - it makes me really nostalgic and proud to have such a positive and incredible mom. She made sure that every morning we woke up to God. We woke up knowing that God had provided another day for us. He had opened our eyes and given us the opportunity to see another day. I hate to ever admit this, but I was not the best person before my mom's cancer. It took this cancer to really open my eyes. This isn't my own little world with other people living in it - this world is a huge place filled with other people that have opinions, feelings and needs that are just as important as my own. It took this horrible disease to see the good that's out in the world. It took this cancer taking my best friend from me, to understand that life can never be taken for granted. It took this blog to see that other people feel pain and heartache in the same types of ways and that the power of pray can never be underestimated. I pray for many things: mercy, forgiveness, strength, courage, love, acceptance and more time. But most of the time when I don't know what to pray for, I sit in silence and let my heart speak to God. I think my heart calls to Him and says "Lord, open my eyes so I may see".

Lord, open our eyes so that we can see how wrong we treat each other. Help us to understand our betrayals and heartaches. Open our eyes so that we see what we're capable of. Help us to understand we can do so much more for each other. Encourage us to practice what you preach. Amen.

Happily Ever After

Today my thoughts were off – I just couldn’t quite get a grasp on my emotions. I felt trapped and alone. Things just became too much for me to handle. I started freaking out on the people I love. I got through most of the day – made lunches, cleaned the house, fixed dinner and then drove over to see my mom. I was a disaster the entire time I was at Sentara. I had had enough – I got up and walked out. I didn’t tell anybody where I was going. I didn’t even really know. I just drove. I drove and I drove…sometimes in circles. I just listened to the radio, cried and drove. I started thinking about my mom and how she always drove me wherever I needed to go. Sometimes when Michael was a baby he would drive her crazy. She would come into my room and say “you coming”? I would put some shoes on and climb into the passenger seat of our Kia.  We would drive around the neighborhood blasting the radio and singing at the top of our lungs. My mom drove to release the stress my brother caused her…I rode because she asked me to. When we would pull back into the driveway the world was a better place…things were calm again and everyone was filled with positive endorphins.

Unfortunately, I had no positive endorphins tonight. Thinking about riding shotgun with my mom just made me more upset. I ended up at my old middle school – a place I hated more than anything. My mom hated it too. I threw up in the nurse’s office because she didn’t believe I had cramps. I got bullied in almost every hallway of the building. And my mom got a speeding ticket right outside on the way to bring me a book I “needed” for one of my history classes. I sat there with my headlights shining on the tennis courts. My mom and I played tennis there several times – they’re one of the only tennis courts with lights that you don’t need a membership for. I remember hitting ball after ball – horrible shots and winners. I could hear my mom’s voice saying “one more” as she hit a horrible feed ball to me…we’d laugh and of course she’d hit me “one more”. We never went home until I hit a winner or we felt good enough to call it quits. I always left the court happy and that was her goal. I guess that’s why I subconsciously ended up there tonight.

All of a sudden I saw headlights in my rear view mirror. A cop car had pulled up beside me. It was a young cop with brown hair and a scruffy face. He rolled down his passenger window. I rolled down my driver side window. This was our conversation:

Cop: Hey there, what’re you doing?

Me: I’m just sitting here, thinking.

Cop: Thinking huh? What’re you thinking about?

Me: My life.

Cop: Life can be hard. Can I sit here and think with you?

At this point I don’t even think it fazed me how weird this whole situation was. I was talking to a police officer. He was young. I was confused.  I just knew it was late and I was glad to have the company. He sat there in his cop car with the passenger window rolled down. I sat in my car with the drivers window down and our headlights shining on those tennis courts where my mom and I used to play. Before I could stop myself I turned to the cop and word vomited. I said “my mom has cancer and I’m really overwhelmed”.  He looked up from his paperwork and asked about the type of cancer and how long it’s been going on. For whatever reason I told the cop everything and a little bit more. He was silent for a while. Then he asked “why’re you here”. I smirked and told him about how I’d been driving for a while and this is where I ended up. He proceeded to tell me that this parking lot was special to him because it’s where his dad taught him to drive. He said they’d drive until he ran over or hit something and then they’d go home. He explained to me that his dad passed away a couple days ago…from cancer. He said that this was where he’d drive when he felt overwhelmed too. The silence that followed his confession was painful. I was trying to think of something to say to comfort him, but clearly I was lacking in the whole comfort department. He looked over at me and said “God has a plan, Katie. Trust in him. Take care.” He then put his car in reverse and drove out of the parking lot. I sat there for a couple minutes thinking about this really weird encounter. I played it over again in my head and then I felt really strange. I felt a really weird feeling in my gut – the kind where you know something just happened and you can’t explain it. He knew my name. I know I heard my name. I’ve never met this guy before in my whole life. But something about him made me feel like I’ve known him all my life.

Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe I’ve actually lost my mind. But something tells me this police officer was more than just a young guy on patrol. I usually panic when I see a cop and either get really nervous or upset…but for some reason I was calm and vulnerable with this man. I was sitting in my car, in the dark, in an empty parking lot…a recipe for disaster and I’m sure he was relieved when I wasn’t trying to harm anyone, anything or myself. If he wasn’t Jesus himself, he was definitely someone God sent to be with me tonight. He could have easily been a jerk and told me to quit loitering, but he just sat in the parking lot with me. He didn’t have to volunteer his life story – I certainly didn’t ask…but he told me like he’d tell a friend. I drove home tonight a little more mindful of my words and actions. I didn’t have a smile on my face or positive endorphins swarming my brain, but I had a glow in my heart. If nothing else, this police officer was a kind man that solidified the harsh reality that amidst tragedy, life goes on. He highlighted the fact that God’s aware of what’s going on and He’s got a plan.

Speaking of having a plan – the devotion for February 16 is from 2 Samuel 12:1-7, 13. Ironically enough, the passage highlights stories that catch us off guard. Stories have a way of breaking through our best defense mechanisms. I wasn’t prepared for this officer’s story – I didn’t expect to encounter anyone tonight. I didn’t expect to end up in an empty parking lot with someone who was hurting like I was. Stories help us relate to one another. They allow us to share joy, sorrow and laughter with those we love and those we don’t know very well. Stories remind us that we’re all human - living in a world of sin, with harsh consequences and adversities. The best kind of stories are the ones that involve a hero or a plot twist where things end positively and the phrase “happily ever after” is written across the final pages. Even through the adversity I face every day and the tragedies that take place worldwide, I still maintain that “happily ever after” pages exist for everyone. Our stories may not be the ones we’ve been dreaming or wanting to hear. Our stories may not end the way we thought they would. But God is the author of all our stories and He only wants what’s best for us. He died for all our sins so that we could join Him in heaven when He asks us to. If that doesn’t guarantee a “happily ever after”, I’m not sure anything will.  

Heart to Heart

 

This past week you could really feel the love. I witnessed so many men walking into restaurants and businesses with boxes of candy and flowers behind their backs - ready to surprise their special someone inside. I've driven to the hospital multiple times this week to visit my mother - driving on busy roads and through neighborhoods. Almost every time I drove through a neighborhood I witnessed someone getting out of their car with balloons and gifts for whomever lived inside. I've also been witness to a surprise homecoming event. My dad and I were sitting in Moes on a Valentine's Day date when a woman walked in with a small child. She ordered and was setting her child up in the booth when a dressed out sailor walked into the restaurant. He walked over to her and said "excuse me". She turned around and began to cry - they were happy tears of course. He had candy and a teddy bear for his child, but the best part by far? He was crying too. It's a shame that for most people Valentine's Day is an annual thing on February 14. It's a shame we had to create a holiday to show our love and appreciation for one another, when it could be shared on any ordinary day.

Every year on Valentine's Day you could expect 3 things - at least in the Robinson household. 1. Caroline and I would get some kind of Valentine shirt to wear to school. One year we had matching Velcro heart shirts; they came with a set of letters so that you could change what was written inside the heart. These shirts would have been way cooler if my mom had given them to us before we hit middle school - could have very well been a reason as to why I was bullied. 2. We always got a big heart shaped box of Dove chocolates and a super cheesy card. My mom would always tell us we couldn't eat any before school...but every year half the box was empty before we left the house. 3. My mom always made a giant heart shaped cookie for our after dinner dessert - festive and delicious. My mom was all about celebrating holidays to the fullest. This year was challenging for many reasons - especially since it was up to me to pull all three of these things off. Caroline and I did not get Valentine's shirts and that was a blessing - I am not a fan of graphic t-shirts. Caroline and I decided to write poems and make homemade cards for our parents instead. Judging by the fact that both our parents had teary eyes...I'd say we made a good decision. A couple weeks ago I went out and bought boxes of chocolates for Caroline, Michael and I to receive on Valentine's Day. At first I was a little annoyed that I had to pick out my own gift...but then I realized I could pick out whatever I wanted. On Valentine's Day I was pretty excited about the box of chocolate I was going to receive - I don't mess around when it comes to candy. Finally, I was tasked with making a giant cookie heart. It wasn't too terribly hard - the icing was by far the hardest part. Michael, my dad and I celebrated Valentine's Day at the hospital with Panera, homemade cards and a giant cookie cake. Valentine's Day 2014 was by far the best one yet.

This year I think I finally understood why Valentine's Day is so important to so many women. It's a day of validation, reassurance and thanks. It's a day where love is celebrated - nobody is nagging or complaining...everyone is happy because they're being adored. I know my dad loves me...but getting a Duck Dynasty card with a personal handwritten message was just what I needed to be reassured. I know Coby likes me...but getting roses, chocolates and hearing "I miss you" made me feel like the most special girl in the whole entire world. I know my mom loves me...but seeing her face light up when I brought out the cookie cake and hearing "you pulled it off" was the validation I needed to play the 'mom role' one more day.

My life is very frustrating and overwhelming. But for the most part, I feel like Valentine's Day is every day. I am constantly surrounded by love and affection from close friends, family and people I encounter in the hospital. My dad uses "I love you" much more frequently in our conversations. He hugs me, thanks me for my contributions and acknowledges the sacrifices I make every single day. My mom stays heavily medicated while in the hospital, but her reaction every time I enter a room is priceless - her words don't usually make sense but she smiles real big and reaches for me. It's moments like that that bring tears to my eyes because I know what she's trying to say. I think I love her more and more every single day and I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual. Every day I realize something she's taught me and relish in that moment...I'm not sure I would appreciate those moments if my mother weren't so ill. My boyfriend is a big strong tough guy, but over the past couple months I've discovered a whole new side to him...a much softer side. He never lets me cry or worry about anything alone - we're a team. He's grown to be someone I can trust and rely on when I need to vent or be reassured. Ever since August 10 I've been a kinder person - more gentile with my actions and words. I text and tell my friends and family what they mean to me on a regular basis. I tell Coby every single day how wonderful he is and how much I appreciate him. This cancer has taught me that you can't live life thinking others know how you feel - you've got to tell them whether it be through words or actions.

God tells us every day how much we mean to Him. He gives us people we need - to rely on, to love on and to listen to. He gives us situations demonstrating His unconditional love. And incase actions and people aren't enough He gives us stories to read further about His love. In fact, God's love is referenced over 500 times in the Bible - depending on your version. The devotion I want to highlight tonight comes from 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. I'm going to share with you my favorite parts, "Love is patient, love is kind. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails". This is how I know Valentine's Day exists 365 days a year, because God says love never fails. I wish we were more intentional about sharing love and reassuring others on a regular basis because the world needs more love. Most people have goals in life that involve getting married, having children or excelling in a career...but my goal is to make the world a better place. My goal is to make the world a little kinder - a little more aware. My goal is to make sure that love perseveres. I will continue to spread love, share the Good News and take life day by day with my heart on my sleeve.

W.W.C.D

I didn’t get my license until I was a senior in High School. I know this makes me sound like a crazy person, but I didn’t really need a license or a vehicle. I had a boyfriend at the time that lived nearby and would take me to and from school. Sometimes I’d be forced to ride the bus…but as our relationship continued to grow, those days were numbered. It wasn’t until I realized I didn’t like him anymore that I finally took behind the wheel and earned my license. It was a harsh reality when I completed behind the wheel, had a legal license and not a car in sight. Thankfully, my dad knew it would be social suicide to ride the bus as a senior and agreed to find me a car. My first car was a 2001 Green Jeep Cherokee I named Jade. That car and I were together for my first three years of driving. We were in our first fender bender together; I was hit from behind at a stop light on First Colonial Road. My car and I were fine, but the car behind me looked like an accordion all bunched up – the windshield was cracked and I couldn’t see if the driver was alright or not. I was 18 and invincible…you learn about what to do in an accident in Drivers Ed. but you don’t think it will ever happen to you.

I remember reaching for my phone and dialing the first number that came into my head. I heard “Katie, what’s wrong?” My dad knew I was on my way to school and 7:20 phone calls weren’t common. I don’t remember saying too many words…I just remember crying to the sound of his concerned voice. His next question was one I should have seen coming, “did you call 911”? At that point it hadn’t really occurred to me to call 911, I was calling someone who I knew could help me no matter what – the person I always turned to when I didn’t know what to do…my dad! I hung up with him immediately and called 911. It was the scariest phone conversation ever because the dispatcher was trying to get the facts and I didn’t know if I had the right answers. Within minutes of my stressful phone call an ambulance, fire truck and police woman arrived and surrounded my car. Shortly after, my dad, my principal, director of the Legal Studies Academy and one of my teachers arrived too. See, the awkward part about this accident was that it happened on the way to school on the day of a field trip – my classmates were waiting for me to arrive so that we could leave and attend a Model United Nations conference at Old Dominion University for the day. Besides this accident, Jade and I had some great times jamming out to shameful boy bashing music, getting lost all over Hampton Roads and riding with the windows down…until her transmission died at the end of 2012.

In January 2013, I was sporting a 2008 blue Ford Escape. I decided to name her Dory because of Finding Nemo (kudos to you if you can get the reference). Dory and I have had to overcome some adversity together. Here’s a tip to new drivers/new car owners…learn where the windshield wipers are before you drive on the interstate in a rain storm. You’re welcome. Dory has an awesome sound system, electronic locks and windows (living large) and a really great smelly thing in the vent so she smells like lavender all the time. Lately we’ve been having problems with her tire pressure. A light is constantly on my dashboard that reminds me her tire pressure is low. Here’s a note to Ford engineers – next time you make a light for the dash, tell the driver which door is open or which tire is flat…that’s way more helpful than a generic “warning” light. I always look at my tires before getting in my car but they all look the same. I haven’t looked at my tires ever until this light came on…so who knows what they’re actually supposed to look like. Regardless, we’ve been struggling.

My favorite show is the Big Bang Theory and my favorite character is Penny – shocker I know. I always feel like Penny when I drive my car because I want to put a sticker over my low tire light on the dash. If I can just cover it up I won’t be worried about it anymore. Instead of actually fixing the problem (which would involve being outside in this frigid weather) I would much rather pretend it’s not there. I’m a lot like my Ford Escape. I’m made in America, reliable and have problems I prefer to ignore rather than fix. I wish a sticker could cover up my reluctance to talk to other people about my struggles. I wish a sticker could cover up my constant state of anxiety. I wish a sticker could heal the hurt in my heart. But just like a sticker won’t fix my tire pressure, it won’t fix any of my problems either. We live in a world that encourages us to find distractions to cover up our fears, sorrows and concerns. I think of a sticker sort of like a band-aid. Band-aids cover the booboo, but it doesn’t necessarily make it go away. If you cut your finger, apply a band-aid and then wash your hands…the booboo is still going to hurt the same amount – you just can’t see it.

2 Corinthians 5:7 encourages us by saying “we live by faith, not be sight”. I just wonder if we really live that way. Are we motivated by things we cannot see? Do we make decisions according to what is right or what we want? My sister was talking to me about our dinner plans yesterday and said “Katie, you’ve always gotta think WWCD”. We both got a good laugh because it’s doubtful others think “what would Caroline do” before making a decision in life. But it poses a good question, what would Jesus do and how would he act? I don’t think He’d ignore His low tire light or push away others that are trying to help Him. He’d probably rely on His faith. Trying to rely on faith is tricky sometimes. You can’t see it…sometimes you can’t feel it and it’s a 100% personal relationship between you and God. Nobody else can tell you what you should do or feel – it’s just for you to figure out. I can get my car fixed – take it to a gas station or an auto zone and they’ll tell me what to do. But nobody can tell me what to do in my struggle with MY faith. It’s a work in progress…just like the tire light on my car. Eventually we will get a warm day and I’ll fix the problem…or my tire will just burst. Eventually I’ll be on the road to recovery with Christ too. It’s nice to know that He tries to help us and fix our problems even on the coldest of days. I live too often by what is tangible but I need to start having faith in God, faith in myself and faith in my Ford tires.

God is ____.

I love roller coasters. I love the adrenaline rush as the ride begins to move forward and take off. My palms start to sweat as the coaster climbs up to a higher point...only to drop back down. My stomach gets butterflies and a silent scream is all I can manage to get out as we miss the ground by what feels like only a couple of inches. There's a ride called Space Mountain at Disney in Florida. The ride counts down...3....2...but takes off before it gets to 1. You're not ready for the ride to take off when it does...but you're strapped into the coaster and have no say in the matter. That's how my life is these days...only problem is that I don't have a cart to ride in or a seat belt fastened all the time. As you sit on this particular ride you hear children crying and adults screaming because they just weren't expecting it to take off so suddenly. I knew my mom was going to go back to the hospital on Thursday, but I still just wasn't emotionally prepared. I knew the countdown was occurring...3...2...but I never heard 1. Everything just happens so fast on the roller coaster of life - you don't know where you'll be seated, if your seat belt will work or when exactly you're taking off.

I drove into Norfolk on Friday morning for a day of much needed pampering. I love getting my hair done - I just feel so pretty when I leave that salon chair and go back out into the world. I smell like all kinds of wonderful things that are ultimately hazardous chemicals put into my hair so that it has perfect volume and shine...but no complaints here! Salon days are different for me though - I know my hair dresser very well. She's the only person that's ever cut or styled my hair, ever. I knew when I got to that salon I would have a big hug waiting for me and that was the real reason I drove into Norfolk so early Friday morning - hair has become secondary. I was almost to the salon and I noticed a billboard that read "God is      ." My first thought was God is what? I thought maybe the word had fallen off or someone had been fired halfway through making the sign. I began to think about the word I'd put in that blank but I couldn't find the right one. I got to the salon, received my hug and began the beautification process. While I was sitting there a woman came into the salon and began to talk to my hairdresser about the most recent struggle in her life. I sat in the chair thinking about the billboard and how my life was an absolute mess not paying much attention to this woman in front of me. She began to address me and apologized for her rant - but the rant actually made me feel better. It made me realize that no matter how old you are or how prepared you think you are for adversity...you're really not that prepared for life's great challenges.     

I continued talking to this woman I've never met. We talked about our lives and the crap that we're both facing. I learned that this woman was not only a woman of faith but of great character too. I found myself talking about the Good News in her presence and drawing connections from my life to the Bible. When she left the salon I felt as if a weight was lifted off of me...I felt like maybe I could make it another day through this fight. I thought about the billboard again and began to realize how accurate the message was - it was thought provoking and the answer could be anything you wanted it to be. After my hairdresser turned me from a pumpkin to a princess I drove over to the hospital to see my mom. As I was driving through downtown Norfolk I was stopped by every single stoplight - talk about bad timing! I looked out my window to see two homeless people - a man and a woman sitting on a bench. They were dressed in ratty old coats and had big holey blankets wrapped around their shoulders. Then I saw that they were holding hands. They were looking around, watching the cars drive by and enjoying the company of one another. I often think that my life is hard and my problems trump everyone else's...but that's simply not true.

I love that the billboard was left with an unwritten word. I love that the author left it up to interpretation because God is many things to many different people. In my experience, God is love. God was present on that roller coaster ride that took off before you were ready. God was present in the woman that I happened to encounter in the salon. God was the love felt between those two homeless people sitting on Colley Avenue in Norfolk. God's love is all around us - woven in and out of our problems that seem so personal and tragic in our lives. I have strayed from my devotion book for this one because I was given a passage that spoke to me by a dear friend on the day my mom went back to the hospital. It is from Romans 8:38-39 and reads "For I am convinced that neither death nor life nor angels nor rulers nor things present nor things to come nor powers nor height nor depth nor anything else in all of creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." My friend texted me this passage and said "I'm sure today was awful and tomorrow might not be looking good either but there's nothing ever that will separate us from the one that knew us before we were born and loves more than we can begin to understand." God's love is in my sweet friend sharing this passage through a text message.

Life changes in an instant - everything that you think is great could get better or worse without even blinking. It's scary to know that God's plan is out of our hands...but it's comforting to know that He loves us more than anyone else on the whole Earth. It's comforting to know that no matter what He will love us and protect us even when we think we don't deserve it anymore. He will love us when we're pumpkins and not princesses. He will love us when we cry because our roller coaster took off faster than we anticipated. Most importantly, He will love us when we don't love Him back - or when we think He's forgotten about us.  I am so thankful for the support, kindness and love I feel on a daily basis from my friends and family - God works through all of you too! But lately I've noticed most of my God encounters from things I would normally overlook - like billboards and homeless people...there are messages from God in all people and in all situations. If you look with your heart, you'll find the love.

Life's a zoo.

I absolutely love the zoo. I love watching the animals play, eat and live candidly. My friends often joke me because I love the zoo more than some kindergarteners - but we all have our quirks. Most of the time I press my face up to the glass and watch in awe of these majestic creatures - not really thinking about the fact that they're captured and living in a box. Lately, I've felt like a zoo animal...with faces all pressed up against the glass. I feel like everyone is encroaching on my exhibit. Out of habit, I always look away when an animal pees or poops because it's totally gross and I would want privacy too. But there's always that kid who watches it all pointing and screaming to anyone that will listen about the animal's bowel movements. Nobody watches me use the bathroom, but there's little privacy in my life...much like the animals on display in the zoo. When it comes to cancer nobody knows what to do, what to say or how to act. I'm not sure there's a right answer or even a right question to ask. I'm absolutely exhausted from all the anxiety and stress I feel on a daily basis. I just can't handle it as well as I used to.

There is a phenomenal zoo in Columbia, South Carolina. My favorite part is the island of monkeys - no joke - their exhibit is in the middle of the zoo. There are big trees and a monkey treehouse with a couple beautifully big monkeys. There is no cage around the island - in its place is a moat of water that separates the island from the mainland (AKA the rest of the zoo). I remember standing and watching the monkeys swing back and forth for at least an hour or two. It was so cool...I was so close and could watch them live and interact with each other. I felt like I was a monkey too. The longer I stood watching, the more I wondered if the monkeys ever tried to escape. There was nothing preventing them from swinging off the trees onto the mainland and running through the zoo. If I were a monkey, I'd totally try to escape and visit the other animals in their cages. I'd totally pull a "curious George" and release all the animals so they could be free too. What does it mean to be free? I vaguely remember the word...but I'm not sure I can define it anymore.

Everyone wants to be helpful. Everyone wants to show their support. Everyone wants to console you. I sincerely appreciate the support we receive on a daily basis - I don't think we could have made it this far without everyone's help, love and prayers. It's just so hard to be strong. It's hard to be the one people turn to for support. It's hard to live this life - I feel like an animal trapped behind the glass. I hate coming home and watching my family suffer. I hate seeing my mom in this condition. I hate talking about my life and the choices we're having to make. What is the best quality of life? The best quality of life doesn't involve cancer. This is all just so unfair. This week has been so challenging for me because family has been calling from near and far. They've been visiting and bringing us things to provide relief. I'm SO grateful for all these things...it's just that when everyone is around, we rehash and review the same horrible series of events over and over again. I feel nauseous every time I think about my mom's cancer. I'm not hungry - I'm not tired - I'm numb from all the emotions I feel every day. The stress and anxiety I've pushed away for the last 5 months is finally here and its incapacitating.

The devotion for tonight is from 1 Chronicles 28:20. It reads, "Be strong and courageous, and do the work. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you or forsake you". I'm strong and courageous for my family 24/7 365 days a year. I am constantly doing something for somebody else - sometimes it's incredibly frustrating and annoying because it's hard to be so selfless...but most of the time I don't have another option. I am very discouraged that God doesn't seem to be here, on Largo Drive. I don't blame Him for my mom's cancer...but I think He's taking His sweet time in figuring out what to do. I pray without ceasing. While I find it hard to have faith and hard to be strong, I know that God has no problem doing so. God takes charge and leads us into battle every single day. Even though I don't really think He's doing much....He is somehow someway. He will not let me fight alone and He provides an army to guard my family day and night. I've never had much courage - I've always been more of the cowardly lion. God has strength and courage when I don't...he won't let me fail or forsake me. I know all these things and still struggle with my belief in Him. This week has been extremely challenging with copious amounts of stress and crucial decisions...God's had His hand in the mix somewhere. I don't understand why many things happen...especially this...but I know it's all part of the plan. I can't always be strong and bear this pressure and weight - but I can certainly pass the puck to someone who can.

Dear God,
Give me the strength to get through these next couple weeks. Help me to be kind, patient and calm. Be with us when we receive answers to our current state of affairs. Watch over my mom and help her feel your love. Help us all feel your love - even the animals in the zoo. Amen.

Check yourself.

Have you ever woken up to your mom having a seizure? Have you ever watched her seize through the back of an ambulance window? Have you ever changed your mom's diaper? Have you ever had a doctor look you in the eye and say "well, it doesn't look good"? Have you ever fed your mom an entire meal - alternating bites with sips of water? Have you ever been told your mom WILL die of cancer? Have you ever thought about burying your mom when you're in your self absorbed twenties? Bet you haven't. But if you have...you sorta understand that nothing about my life is pleasant. When I wake up in the morning...I don't know what I'll find or endure. Sometimes I'm woken up to my name being frantically called throughout my house - you learn to hate your name when its laced with panic and fear. This morning was one of those mornings. My mom's health is deteriorating rapidly. Over the past 5 months her health has gradually become worse and worse as the cancer takes over her body. We knew this would happen...but it still just amazes me how things change in the blink of an eye. I've been here the whole time, witnessing everything and trying to process and reflect...but I'm still shocked that this is my reality.

I understand that there are mean people in the world. But I don't understand how people abuse animals, set houses on fire or have the audacity to intentionally use words for harm. We give words entirely too much power as it is...but when words become the most important part of our reality - they deserve power. My mom and I have not had a physical relationship since August 10. I know she loves me...but when the hugs, kisses and expressions of empathy are gone...words are all I have left. When others abuse their words and say hurtful things to get a rise out of me or to intentionally make me feel crappy...it hurts more than it normally would. I'm in a different place in my life than most of my peers - I've had to grow up and become an adult. I can't cruise through college and drink my life away every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night. I have responsibilities and obligations to my family and myself - I have integrity. I understand that some people don't grow up until they're staring at life square in the face. That's fine...but we all could do a little more maturing when it comes to our language and words. Growing up I was bullied and my mom would always console me by saying "they're just jealous - they have to put themselves down because they don't believe they're good enough". I never listened to her because it never made sense to me. But now...I'm starting to understand. To think so lowly of yourself that you have to slander the name of someone else is mind-blowing to me. I believe that the image you project and the words that pour out of your mouth are direct reflections of the person inside - there are some people I'm ashamed to know and others that I'm privileged to be around.

I'm sure you're waiting for the card I'm about to pull...so here it is. Of all the people to be mean to, manipulate and bully...why in the world would you pick me? So that you can kick me while I'm already down? To be the cherry on top to an already insanely frustrating and scary day? Nobody truly knows what goes on at my house - what a typical day is like. I struggle through everything...through friendships, homework, relationships, emotions, self worth, resilience and faith. Do you know what it's like to live in a world where nothing is reliable? Where nothing about your life is the same every single day? It's scary and unfair. I'll climb down from my soapbox and say that nobody should ever be bullied or picked on - to have words used against them for harm. We all do it everyday...in small and big ways. We tell someone their outfit looks great when it really makes them look like a whale. We tell someone a secret and later find it trending on social media. Or worse, we seek out someone we care deeply about and make false accusations that break their heart.

Today's devotion is from Haggai 1:2-8, 2:4-5. I didn't even know that Haggai was a book in the Bible until I read this passage. It explains that God should be our number 1 priority. In everything we do, others should be able to see that God is number one in your life. The scripture reads, "You have planted much but harvest little. You eat but are not satisfied. You drink but are still thirsty. You put on clothes but cannot keep warm." I often feel this way...like nothing is ever enough. I don't do a good job of putting God first. I am getting better about it because I'm more aware of his presence. But I often wonder what people think of me or who they see in me. I'd like to think people have happy thoughts when they think of me - I'd like to think I come off as a strong and reliable lady. I'd like to think that people see my mom in me. She's my role model and best friend. She's the best person I have ever met and will ever know. I'd like to think people see God in me too - in the things I practice and I preach. In this blog it's been my goal to highlight the positive works of God and share my journey through cancer and faith. I shouldn't get so upset by insensitive comments that are rooted in jealousy. I shouldn't complain or throw pity parties for myself because everyone struggles through problems in life. I shouldn't let my emotions control my brain. My life is very challenging these days but I do my best to suck it up and turn my face to the sun. However, sometimes you've just got to let it out and be sad.

I think the message in this devotion is that with God things become "just enough". With God there will always be enough to eat. I can't tell you how many times I panic about what we'll eat for dinner. My dad and I will go to the kitchen and pull out a pile of recipes only to receive a text message or a phone call that dinner is being provided and on its way. God truly does take care of you. With God there will always be love. I receive many messages and texts about the Good News found in this blog. It inspires me to continue sharing my story and faith. It reminds me that good still dwells in many of my peers. With God there will be a better tomorrow. While things at my house are challenging these days and many unknowns are certain - there is always a reason to smile. We have another day together in this mess we all call life. We have another day to make a memory...my mom won't remember, but we will. You can't let worries from yesterday impact tomorrow because new joys and challenges lie ahead. With God, words can't hurt us. Words can be false and mean and absolutely terrible sometimes...but God's words are more powerful and He absolutely adores me. His love can outlast anybody's love or hate for another - He is the Alpha and the Omega and has the final say. With God, we are who we're made to be. So tonight, I encourage you to think about the things you endure every day - your struggles, worries and fears. I encourage you to think about the things you say to others. What or who do people see in you?

Forget me not.

Tonight we played a game around the dinner table. The game was called "would you rather". The classic questions came up: would you rather be a dinosaur or a dragon, would you rather be stranded on a private island alone or working in a factory with friends, would you rather save the world and die a hero or save the world and nobody know? For the record, I would be a dinosaur, stranded alone on my island and I'd love to die a hero. After that last question I left the table to get started on the mountain of dishes piled in our sink. I hate doing dishes. It's just something about the spaghetti sauce, from a meal I can't recognize, encrusted on a plate or the French Onion dipped spoon that never got rinsed off that makes me gag while taking one for the team. I have some type of OCD syndrome because I love for things to be orderly and neat - I have so much anxiety when things are messy. Therefore, I do the dishes immediately following a meal...I can't help it. I usually play music and dance in front of the sink while I rub and scrub the crud away and load the dishwasher. Tonight I didn't play music, I listened to everyone's varied responses to the "would you rather" game. My mind kept taking me back to the "would you rather save the world and die a hero or save the world and nobody know" question. I don't think anybody wants to be forgotten. I think secretly we all need some recognition and reassurance...especially if we saved the world. The more I thought about this question, the more it bothered me.

Every morning since late October I've woken up to a text message or a missed call from a very special friend. This friend grew into something more and I still get excited to check my phone because I know he'll be the first person I talk to or hear from every day. Even though I know it's coming...I still have moments of anxiety as I enter the password into my phone. What if he forgot about me? What if he met someone new? What if he got bored? What if he was having a good morning without me? What if he sent good morning to the wrong girl? Those seconds of temporary insanity and panic are immediately tossed out the window when I see "good morning". It's amazing how easily I'm reassured. I think some of my desperate need for reassurance comes from my mom's diagnosis...but I think to some extent it's normal. I'm afraid of being forgotten. The classic best friend line is "well, if he forgot about you he wasn't the one". I guess my point is that no matter what - it sucks to be the one that was forgotten or left out. When you date someone you don't automatically assume that guy will be "the one"...or at least I don't. Don't get me wrong...it'd be great if life worked that way, but typically it doesn't. I've been the one in relationships that's been overlooked, forgotten, and left out, so I know how it feels to be second best. Thankfully, I've been blessed with a sweet man who reassures me by responding to my corny joke text messages and FaceTimes me for breakfast dates.

I had to become a temporary alum from my sorority this semester. Cancer is a huge financial burden. Let me say that again...cancer is a huge financial burden. Nothing can prepare you for this expense. I'm pretty sure Bill Gates would struggle financially if he had cancer. We all have had to make sacrifices and this "active" status was mine. Anyone who knows me knows how much I love my sorority. I joined this organization two years ago because I didn't know anyone on campus and I wanted an easy way to make friends. My mom was a Delta Zeta at Lenoir Rhyne College, making me a DZ legacy. I have made friends that will be my future bridesmaids (if I ever find anyone crazy enough to marry me) and friends who will stand beside me on the day of my mom's funeral. In making the decision to go alum I knew I would be forgotten. I didn't realize how quickly that would happen though. In the Greek world it's easy to become immediately left out. It's a small world that is propelled by spirit days, PanHellenic weeks and rush events. I don't think people do it intentionally - but it happens. Things are just different now because I'm not there and nobody really knows what to say to me. My life circumstances put people in an awkward position. Some people will ask "how's your mom"...some will genuinely want to know and others will just ask because they know they should. It's interesting to me the people that have reached out since I've left. It's not necessarily the people I would have assumed - yet again, another reason not to assume things. It's been a true testament to character and unconditional love. I've become close with sisters I didn't know very well while active in the organization. Their continued support and kind words make this blog possible. Sometimes it feels like I make a difference...I hope that I can inspire other people to look beyond the tragedies and rough patches in their life and focus on the joys present among us.

I think sometimes people believe God has forgotten about them. Sometimes I think God's forgotten about my family too. The devotion for today comes from Isaiah 49: 13-18. In this devotion many comparisons are made: God is like a mother. God is like a person whose love is engraved on His palms. God is like a guard on a wall. God is like a jeweler who adorns you with the most beautiful jewels. I believe these things to be true. I think God makes many comparisons to reassure us that we're not forgotten. God is like the spaghetti sauce encrusted to a dinner plate or the lingering smell of French Onion dip....it never really 100% comes off or goes away. From a sanitary standpoint...that's a pretty gross analogy, but we all know what I'm trying to say. Faith is forever. God is like the tri tone alarm on my phone when it receives my "good morning" text message. God is always there with the Good News. No matter how many times we ignore the alerts or reject the call he finds a way to reach us and remind us that we're useful, valued and adored. God is like the encouraging Facebook messages I receive daily from my sisters about my blog. He doesn't always stay on the radar...He restores my faith in others and helps me to understand that I can make an impact - physically and cyberly. God has not forgotten your worries, joys and fears. God has not forgotten your place and name. God has given us pointless games, reassuring significant others and supportive friends to serve as reminders that we're always on His mind.