Dreams and Wishes
Today is a new day. A new day it is indeed. Last night turned into an awful bout of memories as I lay in bed reading through an old journal. It was from when I was 18. My first semester of college. Oh, what a roller coaster. In one journal entry I think I named 5 guys I was interested in. I began to realize so much about who I was and what was going on in my life. I was so in denial. Like you would not believe. All I wanted was to be loved. To be given attention and affection. I think I hated that about myself, too. It made me feel so weak. I remember spending so much time trying to get attention from people. It made me feel so stupid, so weak. The more I look back at those times I realize that I needed that attention. I needed help. I just wanted to be loved. I wanted to be taken care of. I didn't care by who. I didn't care what it took to get there. I just wanted to be loved.

I think I still feel that way now. When I'm alone too long or things are crazy busy I get lonely. And I just want to be loved. I look for love in all the wrong places, just like I always have. I have to remind myself that I have love. I have a husband who does love me, if only I choose to accept it. Sometimes it's hard. But I know that he loves me.

The thing I didn't realize when I was so young and vulnerable was that I was loved. I was so loved by God. But I couldn't focus on that. I wanted to, and I knew He did love me, but I wanted to feel it. I was convinced that if I was a good Christian I would be able to feel it. I was convinced that if I were truly 'repenting' I would be broken, I would feel Godly sorrow. I would cry. It wasn't enough to just turn around and stop doing the wrong things. No, I had to feel something. Something profound. It's only recently that I've learned that Christianity isn't about a feeling. It's about obedience and faith and love. And sometimes there will be strong emotions tied to it. And sometimes there won't. But that doesn't necessarily mean that your motives are wrong. Wow, this post took a left turn somewhere. Hold on, let me scroll up and see where I was going with all of that...

Hmm I think my point with all of that was just that I was so messed up. Even though I was in denial, and not capable of approaching my past, I still had been affected. I had still been hurt, and I just wanted out. Maybe at that time I didn't know why I was so messed up, but I remember i was messed up. Very messed up. I remember hating myself and all my my attention seeking ways. I hated who I was. I just accidentally deleted this paragraph, and I can't for the life of me remember what it all said. Welcome to my world. I remember wanting to be a good Christian. Wanting to have a strong relationship with God. And I remember failing a lot. I think I still fail a lot. I think life is a big string of failures sometimes. You fail. And you try again. And maybe next time you do better, but maybe you don't and you fail again. But you keep trying. Always keep trying.

I think in the last few years I have realized that there isn't much in this life that matters to me. My soul matters. My husband and children matter. My parents and very best friends/siblings matter. Their souls matter. Other than that, I don't know. I don't care if I ever find 'success' in this world, as the world defines it. If I never have another good job, if I never make another dollar. If we spend the rest of our lives in this double wide, it does not matter. If my kids are honor students, volleyball players, or not, it doesn't matter. As long as we have love, and we share God's love with each other and with as many people as we can, then I think we will be okay. Don't get me wrong, I don't think there is anything wrong with wanting to be successful. I don't, I promise. I just think that in the end it will not matter if you worked at McDonalds or were the president of a fortune 500 company. What matters is what God sees. I suppose I need to start working on that, huh?

This post is so hodgepodge, but these are the things in my head and on my heart. I hurt, and yet I feel as though I'll make it through. I love being where I am in my life because for the first time in my life I'm being honest. And it feels so good. As I was reading I came to an entry that really struck me. I remember being depressed, but I remember it as being a child. I remember it as feeling like I was trying to get attention. When I came upon this entry, I was surprised at the emotion behind it. At the reality of what I was feeling, denial or not. I was living at home after coming home from college, my parents driving me insane. I was dating my now husband, but I still felt like a child. The entry before this said that I felt like I was living out everyone else's lives and dreams and mine would never come true. Wow. I think I said 'I find myself once again hiding away in my own little world of CD's and headphones' and that led into the post.. The post was as follows:

'I hide away in my own world of dreams and wishes. Fearing that the slightest opposition from anyone will cause it all to come shattering down. I play along, until I can retreat back to my world of dreams and wishes. (originally I stopped there, but apparently later in the night I continued the thought) They look into my eyes but I don't think they really see me. It's as though my thoughts and reasoning are but a void, a nothingness full of blackness and emptiness. But they can't take 'nothing' from me.. Can they? Is it possible, if what I hold means nothing, for them to take it away? I fear it is, so I retreat back to my world of dreams and wishes. And then I look into their eyes and I see nothing. It's as though their thoughts and reasoning are but a void. It is then that I realize that what I thought meant nothing to them was their entire world. For my thoughts and reasoning and dreams and wishes are really their thoughts and reasoning and dreams and wishes. It was never possible for it to be taken away from me because what I thought they didn't see or understand is really what they have put in my heart.'
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  • I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a photographer. I'm a lover of Jesus. My house is a mess, my kids are dirty, we eat take out more often than not. My life is loud, busy and crazy. And that's okay with me.
    This is Eric, the man you've been praying for. He's a paramedic. He quilts in his spare time. No, I couldn't make that up :) He has NASH (a form of liver disease, non-alcoholic) and diabetes, but those things don't define him. He's a man of God, an insanely wonderful husband, and the best daddy in the world.. Just ask these guys..
    Our daughter Ali, she's 9. She's fiercely opinionated and strong willed. She's a Daddy's girl, but the umbilical cord hasn't but cut from me, either. She's a gymnast, and proud of it. She spends more time upside down or turning flips than she does walking. She's crazy smart, and absolutely sure of it. She is my insufferable little know it all.
    Our son Dylan, 7. We lovingly refer to him as Chubs. Or Chubby. Or fat boy. Ahem. He is all boy, as you can see by his crazy wild energy. He has the highest pain tolerance of any child I have ever met. He plays soccer and does gymnastics, but truly he is a gamer, a nerd. He is an avid reader and loves to climb. Not to be outdone by his sister, he's a drama king, but to him, I'm the best mommy in the world.