"Sweet, perfect Hands..."

“Then suddenly she reached out and took my hand to steady herself.... sometimes we just need someone to hang on to until we find our footing...”

 It seems as though when Bailey was first born, her tiny little hand instantly found mine... Her new little fingers grasped my finger tightly...I wrapped her small fist with my remaining fingers and held on....I can remember thinking to myself “I will always hold your hand....as long as you will let me...I will hold your hand."

Last night, I sat and rocked Bailey in the rocking chair in her room at bedtime...I rarely do this but the times I do...I love it. It is such a quiet, peaceful time. The house was silent...Travis and Khristian were at football practice...the TV was off...it was just me rocking her. As I sat there with her in my arms she reached up and grabbed my finger with her tiny little hand and brought it to her chest....I held her just like this until she fell asleep. I sat there and studied her little face...the curve of her eyes...the tip of her nose...and my eyes settled on her little hands...

My mind wondered to earlier in the evening as I was holding her by her hand and letting her walk around the house...she is learning to walk but is still very shaky and not quite confident enough to let go. It was probably the third trip around the living room when she stopped...looked up at me with her big beautiful blue eyes...smiled...and let go...

 She walked half way across the room before I saw those blonde little curls turn around to make sure I was watching....I urged her to keep going. She clapped and walked about 7 more steps before she lost her balance and fell to the floor. I ran over to her, scooped her up and gave her the biggest hug all while telling her how proud I was of her. In that moment, I was so proud of her...but as I sat there rocking her and staring at those beautiful, precious hands...I realized that this was only the start... there would be many moments in her life that she would turn to me with those same blue eyes, smile and let go...

They'll grasp a pencil as she clumsily but surely learns to write her name... They'll grip handlebars with a mix of joy and horror as her Daddy runs behind her on her bike, almost ready to let go...In the teenage years those hands will wipe away many adolescent tears and slam many doors, but maybe, if I play my cards right, they'll still reach out for mine every now and then...They'll pack her belongings as she leaves home... And they'll open our front door again as she comes back to visit...They'll wear a diamond from a handsome young man, and they'll loosely hold her daddy's tuxedoed arm, eager to reach out for her future at the end of the aisle...Those hands will clench in pain as she experiences childbirth, and they'll tremble in joy when she holds him or her the first time... They'll feel little foreheads, apply band-aids and hold open books.... And then, one night, she'll rock that sweet baby to sleep, and she'll stare in bittersweet wonder...at its sweet perfect little hands...

I slowly removed my hand from hers...placed her in her crib...and prayed. I prayed that whatever those sweet, perfect little hands accomplish in this life...that they're helpful hands... and merciful ones, and I pray they always have many, many other hands to grab onto...and I pray that those hands are often clasped in prayer themselves.

I pray that when my hands are old and weathered...that she will look at them and see a lifetime of love...that these hands will always be there to steady her...until she is ready to let go...

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"Yes, I got a tattoo..."

“If people are honest with themselves when they choose a tattoo, the art will represent them better than anything that will ever come out of their mouth. The things that are most important to me are represented in the art that covers my body. My God, my family, my friends, my job, my social and historical beliefs and the aggressive or even violent nature with which I will protect all of them.....basically in that order of importance. Is it scarey or repulsive to some people? Yes. Does it change who I am? No. If anything it works as an outward conscience that will forever remind me of who I am and what is important during times of trial or long after my mind starts to fade due to old age if I'm blessed with a long life..."


Yes, I got a tattoo....

It was my 30th birthday present to myself...and I love it. I look at it when I wake up...when I run...as I get ready...several times a day while I am working...and at night while I am playing with Bailey and she points at it on my wrist and say's "Pretty" ...it makes me smile...because yes, it is pretty. In fact, it is beautiful...

So, let's go ahead and play the "Questions & Answers" game....easy ones first....

Of course, everyone's first question is "What did you get?"...My children's initials encased in an Infinity sign on my wrist.

"Did it hurt?"....Yes, some places more than other's...but it was not so intense that I wouldn't do it again....I mean come on, I have had 2 children...I can handle a little bit of pain. I'm not going to lie, I was scared...and really nervous...like REALLY nervous...but I knew what I wanted and was confident in my decision...

"What does Travis think?" ....He loves it...and I am happy...so that makes him happy. Believe me, he would tell me if he didn't like it or didn't support me. He has no problems what so ever telling me when he doesn't like one of my outfits of choice...so something that is permanent on my body would be a piece of cake.

"Doesn't the bible say you are not supposed to get tattoos?" Getting a little bit sticky here...yes, it does.

"Do not cut your bodies for the dead, and do not mark your skin with tattoos. I am the Lord." Leviticus 19:28.

I asked myself that question time and time again...I thought long and hard about my decision to get a tattoo. I knew some people would frown upon it...some would think I was disobeying God and going against religion...some noses would be stuck in the air...and ultimately, some people  just wouldn't see the beauty I see when I look at it. I am ok with that.. I did my research and instead of trying to explain to you why I finally came to the decision that I would not be disobeying God by marking my body with a tattoo I will copy & paste an article that I found. It explains it perfectly and I am content in my choice...it's a personal choice that everyone has to  make for themselves. Some don't agree with it, some do, and some just don't understand it...that doesn't make any of us wrong...that just makes us human...

To Tattoo or Not To?

This is a question many Christians struggle with. I believe tattooing falls into the category of "disputable matters" where the Bible is not clear. But wait a minute, you might be thinking. The Bible says in Leviticus 19:28, "Do not cut your bodies for the dead, and do not mark your skin with tattoos. I am the Lord." (NLT) How much clearer can that be?

It's important, however, to look at the verse in context. This passage in Leviticus, including the surrounding text, is specifically dealing with the pagan religious rituals of the people living around the Israelites. God’s desire is to set his people apart from other cultures. The focus here is prohibiting worldly, heathen worship and witchcraft. God forbids his holy people to engage in idolatrous, pagan worship and sorcery which imitates the heathens. He does this out of protection, because he knows this will lead them away from the one true God.   It's interesting to observe verse 26, "Do not eat meat that has not been drained of its blood," and verse 27, "Do not trim off the hair on your temples or trim your beards." Well, certainly many Christians today eat non-kosher meats and get haircuts without participating in the forbidden worship of pagans. Back then these customs were associated with pagan rites and rituals. Today they are not. So, the important question remains, is getting a tattoo a form of pagan, worldly worship still forbidden by God today? My answer is, this matter is disputable, and should be treated as a Romans 14 issue.  If you are considering the question, "To tattoo or not to?" I think the more serious questions to ask yourself are: What are my motives for wanting a tattoo? Am I seeking to glorify God or draw attention to myself? Will my tattoo be a source of contention for my loved ones? Will getting a tattoo cause me to disobey my parents? Will my tattoo cause someone who is weak in the faith to stumble? In my article, "What to Do When the Bible is Not Clear," we discover that God has given us a means to judge our motives and weigh our decisions. Romans 14:23 states, "...everything that does not come from faith is sin." Now that's pretty clear!  Instead of asking, "Is it okay for a Christian to get a tattoo," perhaps a better question might be, "Is it okay for me to get a tattoo?"  Since tattooing is such a controversial issue today, I think it's important to examine your heart and your motives before you make the decision.


Lastly, "Why did you get that design?" ....My children are my greatest accomplishments in my life...I love them unconditionally... I have made a lot of mistakes in this life...and I am sure I will make a thousand more before my time on earth is through...but when I look at my children...I know...I just know without a doubt that I did something right.

My Grandmother had Alzheimer's disease....my fear is that one day I will develop this same thing. I saw my Grandmother deteriorate...and when I walked in and she didn't know who I was... it crushed me. My mother and I have an estranged relationship and don't meet eye to eye on lots things but I will admit, I saw the pain in her face when my Grandmother did not recognize her or remember certain things.....I fear that one I am going to wake up and my memories are going to start to fade...slowly, I will lose bits and pieces of myself...What if I can't remember Khristian's favorite toy was a screw driver just like his PawPaw.....Or that Bailey loved Bananas and Green beans...that Khristian loves going in Bailey's room every morning to pick her up and bring her to me. I fear that one day I am going to wake up and look into my children's eyes and think I am staring at a stranger...

I pray that one day if this happens...I can look at the beautiful tattoo on my wrist...no matter how weathered or tattered it may be...and be reminded of the two most important people in my life. Be reminded that no matter how my mind is fading...and my body is deteriorating...that I created two beautiful human beings that are going to grow up and do great things.

So yes, I got a tattoo...everyone has different reasons...and these are mine...

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"Mirror...Mirror...On the wall..."

"Mirror...Mirror...On the wall..."


When you look in the mirror what thought immediately runs through your head?
Is it: “Ugh... look at the size of your nose”...“I’m having another bad hair day”...“Geez... you are a fat cow”...

Do you ever say things like that to yourself? I bet you do...We all do..

Would you say something like that to your Co-worker...your friend...your family member? Could you see yourself going up to your someone and saying “Will you check out the size of your butt? Gross!” Of course not! Why not though...Because that would be rude and disrespectful, right?

So why do you say these things to yourself? Why is it ok to be rude and disrespectful to yourself?

Next time you look in the mirror and catch yourself saying something awful to yourself, stop... Just stop...and think, would I say this out loud to someone at work...to another woman...or to someone at the gym? If the answer is no, then don’t say it to yourself..

Believe me, I am battling with this internally myself...Every day it is a challenge to look in the mirror and not belittle my appearance...you see, its more important than ever for me now that I have Bailey...I want to teach her not to hate her appearance...I want to teach her acceptance...to show her that she is beautiful...If I look in the mirror and say how flabby my belly looks then sooner or later I will walk in and see her staring at herself in the mirror doing the exact same thing...and I can't stomach the thought of my beautiful little girl bullying herself because she doesn't think she is beautiful enough...She is going to be looking to me for guidance and acceptance...How can I teach her to love her body if I can't love mine? I know what it's like to hate your body...to hate the mirror...to avoid looking at yourself at all costs...Do I want to pass that on to my daughter? No. I want to teach her to live a healthy lifestyle...to exercise and not view food as the enemy...to treat her body with respect...so that she will look in the mirror and see how wonderful she is...and not depend on someone else to tell her those very words...

If you are having a bad hair day, don’t be disparaging about it... we all have bad hair days, instead just tidy it up a bit and move on, no biggie..If you look in the mirror and notice that your butt is bigger then it was last week...it doesn't make you a fat cow...it just means that you have to exercise a bit more and eat a bit less...

 Don’t beat yourself up over it, we all put on weight at different times, but weight can always be lost. Look at your butt, notice it’s grown and then resolve to do something about it...Easy as that...Don't have time? Make time...there is nothing more important than loving yourself enough to treat it well...

You are a wonderful person, amazing and individual in your own way, but not perfect, no one is, so cut yourself some slack. You wouldn’t let anyone else call you a fat cow or tell you that your nose was huge, that’s called bullying, so don’t bully yourself that way either...

If you hear someone doing this...stop them...give them a compliment...offer a smile...we need more of that in this world...

Respect yourself. You are amazing.

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"136...."

"I am beginning to measure myself in strength... not pounds..." 

136... That is my number...

 You may be wondering what that number means....It could mean the number of miles I have ran this year....It could mean the number of e-mails I have in my inbox...the number of texts to my best friend....the number of days till my birthday...the number of paperclips I have on my desk. It could even be the number of dark chocolate M&M's I have hidden in my purse.... Truth be known, it is none of these....

136...that is my number...on the scale...that is the number that I used to let rule me...and still do on occasion. Often times, I have let that number determine if I was going to have a good day...or a bad day...whether I was going to feel good about myself that day....or absolutely hate everything I saw in the mirror that day...why I would look in the mirror and point out every single flaw on my body. That number was the reason I have spent hours upon hours in the gym...and meticulously counting every single calorie I put in my mouth. I gave that number so much power over me it's ridiculous...I hated the scale but then I couldn't stay away from it...I told myself that I would not weigh today because I didn't want to see that number...but as the day went on I would think about it...non-stop...and the not knowing always got me...so when I would get home...I would hop on the scale...

Why do we do this? Why do we let a single number rule us ladies? Are we not beautiful if that number is the ideal "perfect"....Does that number determine if we have a great personality...or a great sense of humor? Does that number determine who is going to love us that day?

Why does that number determine if we love our self that day or not??

One day, I woke up and was just tired...not in the physical sense...but just emotionally....I was tired of letting this number control my life...I was tired of letting this number dictate how my day was going to go...and I was just tired of looking at this number as the enemy. I wanted to become friends with my scale...I know that this will likely never happen...but I wanted to at least be able to step up on it and feel at peace with the number it provided me with. I realized in order for me to do this...I had to change my way of thinking...I had to change the way I viewed that number. That is not a easy thing to do...considering the fact that my mind was trained to loathe the scale.

I started with tiny little things... I had to quit getting on the scale EVERY SINGLE DAY....Let me tell you...It was easier for me to give up Dr. Pepper soft drinks than it was for me to stop getting on the scale...It drove me crazy not knowing...but I held strong...after 1 very...very...long week...I stepped on the scale completely scared...and to my surprise I had lost 2 pounds! I couldn't believe it...I hadn't done anything different...I continued my healthy eating...my running...and working out...the only difference was, I was not stressing daily over that stupid, silly number...So I went 2 weeks without getting on the scale...and then three...with each week it became easier and easier to avoid the scale...to not "have" to get on it...I added more running to my training routine...more miles...I added some very intense workout sessions with some workout partners who are just as health conscious and determined as I am...these people push me to do my best...and go beyond my comfort zone...and do you want to know what has happened? I have lost a total of 13 pounds and gained more confidence in myself...I no longer look at that number as evil...that number has somewhat become my friend...notice I said somewhat...I still have my days like everyone else where I let that sneaky little voice in...where I let that voice get inside my head and plant nasty little thoughts...but then I get on the ground and do 20 pushups and not even break a sweat...that shuts that nasty little voice up...

I no longer look at that number and think of how horrible it is....I look at that number with pride...because at 136 I can run 4 to 5 miles on a daily basis...and 6 to 10 on the weekend...I can now do a pull up (which I have never been able to do in my whole 29 years of being on this earth)...I can do full blown pushups without having to put my knees on the ground...I can see muscle definition that I have never been able to see before...I can do box jumps that I was not able to do 2 months ago...I can do some exercises that I have only been able to look at in the magazines...I am currently working on being able to master that handstand pushup...and I will master it...you wait and see...I no longer want to be skinny...I want to be strong...I want to do what others can not or are to afraid to do...

At 136, I am in a size 6...I am curvy...I have hips and my thighs touch when I walk...my stomach has flab on it...I am not ashamed of this..My body has gone through a transformation of sorts....and I know it is not done yet. As I continue to train to run 26.2 miles, I know that many other changes will take place...but I will no longer let that number rule me...I am healthy...I am strong...and that number is just a number...

I no longer measure myself in numbers....I measure myself in strength... =)

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"26.2..."

"Passion is a feeling that tells you: this is the right thing to do... Nothing can stand in my way... It doesn't matter what anyone else says.... This feeling is so good that it cannot be ignored.... I'm going to follow my bliss and act upon this glorious sensation of joy...” 


Do we know what we want in life? Almost everyone wants happiness... a person wants to be successful in everything they set out to do... This is the main goal for just about everyone in this world because getting somewhere in life is the ultimate goal...not just getting somewhere in life but to enjoy life...to get everything possible you can out of it...to really live....We often ask ourselves: how we can achieve this tremendous task? In my opinion, the first step is to show passion... Yes, passion. Generally passion is defined* as a powerful emotion, such as love, and joy, even hate at times...To take that a step further passion means to have desire...to care... and most importantly to do whatever it takes to be successful...to be happy...to find what you love...and hold onto it...because honestly, if you aren't passionate about something ...anything....then your not really living... are you?

A little over a year ago, Travis and I found out our prayers had been answered...We were going to have a baby and our family was going to be complete. It was a time of such excitement...I remember Travis and I were like little kids to begin with...we had a secret that only the two us of knew...We wanted to revel in this news before telling anyone else...We were giddy with happiness...As you all know, things went downhill slowly after that and my pregnancy became one of many stress' and scares...what you all do not know is how it impacted me mentally...

Let me stop here and point out that I am a self proclaimed fitness and health addict...I workout like there is no tomorrow and I love living the healthy lifestyle...I worked hard to lose 115 lbs...and I worked even harder at keeping it off....my workout obsession soon turned from just working out to running...I found running to be my outlet. I was stressed..go for a run...I wanted a good workout...go for a run...I needed time alone...go for a run...I needed to think...go for a run. Running became a passion of mine...it just wasn't something that I did to lose weight anymore...it became something so much more...it became a part of me...there was no better feeling to me than lacing up my shoes and running until my lungs felt like they were going to burst and my legs were like jello...and at the end of my run..when my breathing was labored...and I couldnt speak...that is when I could "Just breathe" the best...sounds weird, I know...but if your a runner then you understand exactly what I am talking about...I was logging more and more miles...and with every mile I felt a sense of accomplisment. I had set goals for myself...It started with losing weight but evolved way past that...next goal was to run 3 miles straight without stopping...crushed that one...then 5 miles....again, crushed that one and so on.... I love seeing what my body can do and how far I can push it....watching it transform in front of your eyes is such a magical feeling...it's the passion of being a runner...

At the beginning of my pregnancy I was gungho that I was going to work out my whole entire pregnancy and stay fit...and I was going to continue to run...I was going to show everyone that you could continue being fit even while carrying a child....needless to say that bubble was busted rather quickly....Almost 12 weeks into my pregnancy my doctor advised against running due to the amount of problems I was having...the bouncing motion could aggitate what was going on inside my body and endanger my unborn child...I couldn't lift anything over 25 lbs and was told to limit my activity and not to stress my body..Of course, I wanted to do what was needed to protect our precious child that we had prayed so hard for...so I complied to the doctor's orders...To say I was a little lost is a understatement...not only was I dealing with the ever lingering thought that something could possbily happen to my baby,,,but I also had to give up running...I didnt know what to do...normally when I was stressed or worried I went for a run...but I couldnt do that anymore...I was giving up something that had become such a part of who I was...

I continued to workout when I could...and finally around 20 weeks the bleeding I was experiencing slowed until it finally stopped all together...then we had to go to UAB in Birmingham to have some test run for the fear of Cystic Fibrosis...with a huge sigh of relief we left UAB with smiles because our princess looked great...we had turned the corner in our pregnancy and we prayed that my 3rd trimester would be stress free..

Through all of this I tryed to keep a positive outlook...tryed being the key word....half way through the pregnancy I started to sense a difference in myself...I have always been a very social outgoing person...I found myself drawing myself in...not wanting to talk to anyone...not wanting to see friends...even my family...I started canceling plans with friends and making excuses as to why I couldnt go...I didn't want to be around anyone...I just wanted to stay home...Travis would ask if I wanted to go out to eat...the answer was always no...I used to love getting dressed up and going out to eat on Saturday nights...but that had lost its luster...I no longer wanted to get out and do anything....I was closing in...I was irritable...and moody..and I was someone quite frankly who I wouldnt have even wanted to be around. I started going to the gym more after the problems simmered down and lifted what weights I could and got on the elliptical...but it just didnt have the same draw as running...I was searching for that breathe of fresh air feeling that I got after running...no matter what I did I couldnt find it....I realize I sound selfish...complaining about something so trivial while my babys life could have been in danger...but arent we all selfish at times?

I was counting down the days until I had her....I wanted to see her sweet face...to hold her...to see this beautiful creation that Travis and I had created...I was also counting down the days to where I could lace up the shoes and go for a nice long mind clearing run...I thought that after I had her that I would go back to being normal...my perkiness would return and I would become the "old" jessica again. Wrong....I actually think I got worse...Don't get me wrong, I loved having my daughter in my arms and every second I get to spend with her is a amazing....but I was still not myself...I had lost interest in the things that I once found enjoyment in ...music...reading...writing...even working out...I was still canceling plans and making excuses to friends and family...I didnt know what was wrong with me...

Over the course of the last 7 months, I have gotten some better but still....I had fallen in a rut...same thing day in and day out...same routine...I was struggling to find time to workout...time to run...I couldnt just go anytime I wanted to anymore because I had Bailey now...heck, I was struggling just to find time just to paint my fingernails...it felt like things were just out of my control....I knew something was missing...and I figured it out recently...passion..accomplisment....I needed something to jump start me again...I needed to feel that sense of accomplishment like I did in the very beginning...so I set a goal for myself...starting in January of 2013 I was to start training to run a full marathon in December of 2013...that gives me a full year to train...I liked seeing how far I can push my body and what better way to do it than running 26.2 miles, right?

There it was..I felt a little bit of that old spark...I wanted more than a spark though...thats when I recieved a wonderful invitation...In the last 3 weeks I have been getting up and going running with a amazing set of runners at 4:45 in the morning... 4 days a week...before the sun rises...before Travis, Khristian and even Bailey is awake...I get to run...not only do I get to run...but I get to push myself... and I get to breathe again...This group of runners makes me want to be better...makes me want to be as good as them...right now I am way behind them...but some day...I will be up there with them...running beside them...the spark that I felt is now a large fire that has been ignited...I thank them for this...

I am back...I feel happier...in the last 3 weeks I feel more like myself than I have in over a year...even Travis has noticed a difference...I have found that I am slowly becoming the "Jessica" that I used to be...I don't know what will happen when the time comes when I get so old that my poor old knees can no longer support me running...I can't tell you because I am not looking that far ahead...right now, I have another goal to accomplish....26.2 miles.... =)

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"Black and White with some Gray mixed in..."

"Sometimes it's better to stop trying to make sense of things... Life isn't clear cut, there are always gray areas...."


So many times in the last month I have sat down at this keyboard and tried to write....so many times I have sat here staring at a blank screen....the cursor sitting there... blinking at me...taunting me...there have been words in my mind that I knew I needed to get out but when it came time to put them down ...my mind froze and became a blank canvas....the words just would not come...no matter how hard I tryed squeezing them out...they would not come....

It is not from the lack of things in my life to write about...change is a constant right now...there is always a different story to be told...from my decision to run a full marathon in December/2013 to the suicide of my son's middle school friend due to the immense amount of bullying she faced....but finding the exact words to convey the story I want to write is the problem...until today....

I have the urge to write...so write I shall do...

Yesterday, we had a member of our church tell the congregation that she was pregnant...you could see the mixed reactions among the faces of everyone at church without a word being spoken....the reason...she is 16. Now, most of you know this is a topic that is near and dear to my heart due to the fact that I was, in fact, a teenage mother at the age of 17. Her situation is quite a bit different than mine...she already has a support system in place with her family and the boyfriend is commited to her and the baby at this time..We all know that is subject to change but for her sake,I pray not....I was talking to her after the service ended and she was asked the question "Are you going to get married?" ... Her response..."Eventually we will"...  I may have overstepped my boundaries a little bit but I could not help it...I looked her and I boldly stated  the the best piece of advice my daddy told me right after I had Khristian was this  "Just because you have a baby does NOT mean you have to get married..." It was very quiet after that...I could feel the uncomfortable silence of some...

I love my church...believe me, I do...and I love the congregation...we are a very small country church...we know everyone by name...where they live...and are more like a family than just church members....Travis' parents met there...married there...had Travis and raised him there...they have watched me grow in my faith the last 7 years...watched Khristian grow from a tiny 4 year old to the 11 year old young man he is now...and recently watched and supported as we expanded our family with our beautiful daughter....but our church is filled with an older generation of people that hold on to the older beliefs...this also includes Travis' mom...

We started a conversation yesterday during our weekly Sunday lunch...and it has bothered me every since...I am not quite sure why but it has consumed my thoughts for the last 24 hours...maybe its because I have the utmost respect for her..and sometimes I wish I had the same amount of heart that she does...her sincerity and genuine concern for people is truly something remarkable...We live in a society where that is a lost trait...

She does not agree with my statement...in short, she believes that once the baby was concieved the two teens should get married and make it "right"...she and Travis' dad are very devout in their faith so I guess I sort of knew where they stood on this issue....she gave bible verses that back up her belief...and as much as I try to listen and look at things from others point of view...I have a hard time accepting this...It is a proven fact that 90 % of all teens that get married as a result of a pregnancy will end in divorce in less that 2 years....the reason...at 16/17 years old you are not capable of understanding what "marriage" really entails...marriage is work...it is fun but it is work....you do so much changing and growing from the young age of 16 to 19...and then again from 19 to 21...you mature..you grow...you learn...you really start to expierence life...Basically, you grow up...and your partner grows up....and sadly, you grow apart...

I told told her that yes the bible does indeed prefer marriage and is against a child out of wedlock...but isnt the bible also against divorce....you get married out of love...not out of necessity...why would you subject yourself, your partner, and the child to a marriage and a commitment only to see it fail and still not live the life that the bible intended for you to...It's almost setting yourself up for failure...I know this is not all cases...there is that rare couple that get married as a young teenage couple and they live a long, happy marriage filled with love, laughter and smiles...but those are very rare occations...especially in this day and age with a society that uses the term "marriage" so loosly..I could feel myself getting a little upset...so I did what I could to curb the conversation to another topic...I ended the conversation with this statement.. "I don't believe that eveything is so black and white...I believe sometimes there is a gray area...and the answers are not always so clear cut..."
I can't help but to ask myself the question....What if my parents had pushed for marriage...what if they had sat me down and told Khristian's biological father and I...  "Now that you have created a child  you need to get married and  to make it "right"....Do you know how different my life would be...how different Khristians life would be...What does making it "right" it even mean....Are you making it right in the eyes of God....Are you making it right for yourself....Are you making it right for your significant other...For the child....So what exactly does "Making it right" mean....

I try not to question the bible...but I think that is our human instinct...to question everything...I know that Travis' mom meant no harm in her words...she is part of a older generation that see's our society in some ways as it was 50 years ago...but sadly, it is not...it is not uncommon to see 16 year olds getting pregnant these days...we have school shooting in the news almost on a weekly basis...we have 11 year olds commiting suicide...we have more and more violence and destruction....parents and children face things now that society did not face 50 years ago...

There is one thing she said that I whole heartedly agree with...when I told her how society had changed in the last 5 decades...she looked at me and said very matter of factly..."Society has changed but God has not..."  She is right...God has not changed...he is the same loving God now that he was then...and for that I am thankful...

I don't know exactly what I am trying to say in this post...I am conflicted I guess...I believe in the bible...I believe in doing what you feel is morally right...and I believe in being the best person you can be...I believe in prayer...and forgiveness....

Lastly, I believe there is a gray area...I believe that sometimes that there is not a "right" answer..but in the same breath, there is not a wrong answer either....It is not Black...its not White....its just Gray...

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