This Is Home

Bad days. We all have them. Watch this video. 5 minutes of your life well spent - trust me.

My dad in Vietnam On September 1, 2007 my father passed away from ischemic heart disease , which is a fancy way of saying his arteries were so blocked that blood couldn't travel back to his heart. It's been six years since his death, but the wound was ripped open last year when my mom and I found out his death was tied to his military service in Vietnam. It's not fair, I lamented, It's just not fair.  Agent Orange, which was an herbicide used by the U.S. military in Vietnam, has been linked to the deaths of many veterans. The official list of health complications includes 14 different diseases, but ischemic heart disease didn't make the list until three years ago.  The heart wrenching part of all of this is that several individuals have told my mother that the doctors knew  Agent Orange was the cause -- they were simply told by the government to keep it under wraps. Awful. I'm not all about debating government conspiracy theories, but that was compl...

This year has been a time of adjustment.  My home. My job. My friends. My church. I've held on, and I've let go.  I've stumbled, and I've grown. With a few weeks separating me from 23, I continue to dream. If only's, what if's, I hope's. . .  They each follow their beaten paths in my mind.  As I lie awake, I painfully realize that the old adage rings true. It isn't until something is gone do you wish it to be yours. 

I found myself unable to sleep a few nights ago, and this was the result . . . It isn't until nightfall that you feel it, The ache for rest never found. When your head hits the pillow, And your gaze is Heaven-bound. You feed the anxious thoughts: Can I trust? Do I matter? Am I really enough? In this moment of transparency You shed a fear-filled tear. Your eyes fall heavily. You wonder if He hears. You sleep, then you dream. Of all that which you hope for, Yet never see. 

These are 22 snapshots into the past 22 years of my life. It was INCREDIBLY difficult to choose just 22 photos, so don't feel sad if you aren't included in any of them. If you are reading this, chances are we have walked a portion of our journeys together, and that is something that I truly appreciate. I have been blessed with so many wonderful people in my life. My mom, dad, and I. I still own that Flounder stuffed animal :)  I was THRILLED when we got Bonnie (the Butterscotch Beagle) My best friends growing up :) I decided to play soccer my senior year of high school - no regrets These girls were always cracking me up.                                                        I was blessed with some incredible friends in high school - miss them to pieces Why yes - we DID move our RA's desk i...

5 letters, but the bondage this word brings is immeasurable. Shame has a way of creeping in to every crevice of your life, continually feeding you lie after lie after lie. I recently heard a sermon in which the pastor labeled temptation as a lie. These lies are sweetly whispered into our ears. We hear them, we believe them, and we act upon them. You are . . . [fill in the blank].           A failure           Never going to be truly happy           Alone It is . . . [fill in the blank]          Just one time          Harmless          No big deal The power that shame can hold over a person can be crippling. Your thoughts, actions, words - they are all effected. Your life soon becomes a game in which the revealing of your "true identity" would, in your thoughts, end in heartbreak. No one can know this. That's it - you're c...

Since my father's death dreams have been a big part of my life. They have acted as both a channel for God to speak to me, as well as a foothold for the enemy. It's been almost five years since my father's death and I am sometimes still haunted with nightmares. I am writing this post to tell you of a dream that I too quickly labeled as a nightmare. I'm beginning to learn something about dreams. . . just because they "shake you up" it doesn't mean they are nightmares. I'm learning that God chooses to teach me about myself through dreams. He also reminds me of His goodness and faithfulness. Maybe that is why Satan chooses dreams as his way of getting to me. Anyway - The dream: I learn that my family has been the victim of a horrendous and unspeakable crime. Standing in our living room, facing the window, I begin to cry out to God. "Why would you let this happen to us, God?! Why?!" Amongst the pain and tears and confusion, anger began to sl...