I'm sitting here with a smirk on my face, completely in awe of who I am and what I was. I've been reading through my Thanksgiving posts from the last few years, and it aches to remember those lonely scary days, but I almost don't recognize her anymore. I also read my OneWord post again. And then I read the comments. Here, have a look at the most powerful ones.
between the tears and the goosebumps, i'm just ... wow. you are so brave. so courageous. you've already got fearlessness in you! this is gonna be a powerfully freeing year for you. in ways you cannot even begin to imagine.
thank you. for your rawness and your realness. thank you.
Wow...I'm so sorry you had to go through any of that. But your word...wow. I'm excited for you. 2011 is going to be a year of powerful healing for you. God bless you.
I am so stinking proud of you. Bish, you made me cry.
Okay, I just threw that last one in there because I heart Jen so much and I literally quote that about once a week. <3
But they were so right. 2011 was a very, very powerful year. I know that it isn't over yet, but my finite mind can't imagine it getting much more powerful than this. I realize that while I've been blogging a bit more frequently, I've not been getting into the nitty gritty details of life anymore. So, loves, here we go.
Every year for the past several years I have just barely survived Thanksgiving. I will tell you straight to your face that I hate Thanksgiving, and for a very long time I had no idea why. A couple of years ago I figured it out, but to be perfectly honest it doesn't matter.
I'm sitting here on the eve of the eve of the most hated day of the year, and I feel nothing but peace. For the first time in five years I will be spending Thanksgiving with my family. My entire family. Including my brother.
The past several years have been long and hard but I've pushed through, and thanks to several very close friends, some of whom I've never even met before, I kept my eye on the prize. For me, the prize was freedom. Freedom from the past, from the hurt and crippling fear that my memories can bring. I wanted to be able to live life again. There were times that I lost sight of that, but my very best friend in the whole wide world, Stacey, pushed me on. (Of course, she can't see that, but her opinion doesn't count, anyhow)
Now here I am, 28 years old, and finally I am able to be free. Over the last couple of months my brother and I have been growing and healing, forgiving and reconciling. It's been a slow journey, but one well worth the pain it took to get here. For the first time in five years, last night, my brother told me that he loved me. And with no hesitation I replied "I love you too."
Only God could have brought that kind of beauty out of the ashes that are my past. He is faithful, and I'm so glad that I held on for so long, so glad that I never truly, fully gave up, and so thankful that he never gave up on me. God is faithful, and his healing is powerful, and I will continue to fight, and I will continue to rise from the ashes of my past into the hope of an amazing future.
Thank you to those of you who stood by me, and continue to stand by me every day that I walk this walk called life. You are loved. You are appreciated. I am thankful for you.
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.
I'm here to use my voice. So many people can't. In a world of darkness, I just want to help God's light to shine through. I pray that my words are His, and my love is His, as well. This is my journey through the darkness. To start are the beginning of the story, click here.