"Jesus wept....."

 John 11:35, the shortest verse in the bible, reads, “Jesus wept.” In context, Jesus is weeping because he has come to the home of Lazarus, finds out he has died, sees Mary and Martha despairing over the loss of their brother, and sees Lazarus’ dead body for himself. In this moment, Jesus isn’t numb to the hurt surrounding him; He feels emotional pain and deep sadness.

“Jesus wept.”

This striking statement, just two words, reveals so much about the humanity of Jesus.

Last week, while feeling a bit helpless and at a loss for a situation that is beyond my control, I did what I always do. I grabbed my bible..closed my eyes..and let the page flip through my fingers until it stopped on a page. With my eyes still closed tight...I laid my finder down on an unknown part of the page. Before opening my eyes, I prayed. I prayed over the verse that I was about to read...whatever it may be. I prayed that it would speak to my heart in a way that calmed me. When I opened my eyes....there it was. 

"Jesus wept"

I had always heard the story of Lazarus...but I never read deep into the story as a whole. I started at the beginning and read. I let it speak to my heart. There is so much more to this story that I didn't realize.

"Jesus wept"
 
Throughout the Bible, Jesus is revealed to be both fully man and fully divine, but a lot of times I tend to forget that being fully human means that Jesus felt real pain in His life, just like we do.
His humanness ensured that He was not immune to pain, anxiety, stress, anger, or heartbreak. He felt every emotion that we do, which I find to be very comforting. 

"Jesus wept."

When I saw this, my heart felt so much lighter; I realized, or rather, was reminded, that Jesus literally knows exactly how I’m feeling.

So often in my prayer, I tend to focus on the power and greatness and success of Jesus. These images of Him are great for examples of how we can strive to live our lives and give us inspiration to revel in His glory and saving power, but sometimes, we just need to be reminded that someone else feels our pain. We need to feel hope from someone who has felt as low as we do and has risen to joy.

Jesus weeping is a powerful image. You don’t weep because you’re having a bad hair day, your coffee spilled, or because your wifi isn’t working. Weeping doesn’t come from getting our feelings hurt or even when we suffer a physical injury. Weeping is a pretty rare, significant action in our lives, reserved for the times when simple crying just won’t suffice. We weep when we experience heart-breaking, passionate, emotional pain.....Jesus felt just that. His divineness didn’t take away His human tendency to feel hurt and despair, so He knows exactly how we feel.

"Jesus wept."

We’re not alone in our struggles or our triumphs. Reflecting on the humanity of Jesus and His emotions has helped me to see that my emotions are not only natural.....they are beautiful.....necessary, and even shared with Jesus. 

I closed my bible and I wept. I prayed. And then I wiped my tears away and smiled. 

My prayer had been answered. 

"Jesus wept." 

 

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"Nonpareil...."

[Adjective / Noun; ~ Pronunciation: /non-puh-rel/]

• Definition: Something, anything, that has no equal, that is unique in its kind.

 "You. Me. Everything we do, like singing in the rain. Or if you’re like me (a terrible singer): smiling in the rain....Because nothing compares to taking a walk in the rain, making it a nonpareil experience."

---

I am a words person. I love them. There is nothing better to me than being able to express exactly how I am feeling or thinking through the perfect set of words, phrases, quotes...whatever it may be....I love them. I constantly am looking for new words to use. I believe it opens our mind and makes us think beyond just our casual and usual wording....plus....it just makes you sound intelligent.

 The weather lately has been rather hot here lately, after all, this is Alabama. With temperatures hitting triple digits on the regular on any given summer day. Sun beaming down...humidity sucking the life out of you as sweat trickles down your back and every little crevice on your body. But then....just when you thought you can't stand the heat any longer....a summer thunderstorm pops up. The breeze starts to blow...the rain cools the scorching asphalt down....the smell of the rain hits your nose...and as quickly as it starts...it ends...and the humidity is worse than before.

This is Alabama.

A couple weeks ago, on a rainy day....Bailey and I were stuck inside at home. We couldn't go outside to play and were both tired of sitting in the house. I looked out the window and it was coming down....no lightning...no thunder...just rain. I had some errands I needed to run and really didn't feel like getting out in the rain....but when her sweet little voice said "Mommy, can we go get some ice cream?"  I couldn't say no.

So I threw on my rain jacket and she grabbed her rain boots.....and out the front door we went.

First stop on list was Wal-Mart. I needed to pick up some things and she of course wanted to look at the toys. We stepped outside of the car and ran as fast as possible to the front entrance....she giggled the whole time. She said "Mommy, lets play in the rain!" I explained to her that we couldn't play in the rain right now...and in the middle of the walmart parking lot certainly was not the place. She got a bit of a disappointed look but it quickly disappeared when I mentioned a small toy...and maybe some chocolate. After all.....she is my child.

We did our shopping and toy looking....and an hour later, we were finally ready to leave. As her and I were walking towards the door, she asked me "Mommy, can we play in the rain?.....Please". By this time we had reached the front entrance and I was putting our rain jackets on....and I stopped and looked down at her tiny hand holding mine, her big green hopeful eyes and that smile on her face.....I looked to the right of me and their was a little old lady watching us with a smile on her face.

She looked at me and said "Teach them to dance in the rain when they are little and they won't forget when they are adults."

I looked back outside...back down to Bailey....and told her "Absolutely."

We walked slowly back to the car....rain still pouring down. I listened to her giggles all the way to the car.....and couldn't hold back my own smile. The rain felt good....refreshing....cool....and much needed. It filled me with an energy that I had not had in a while. She helped me put out groceries in the car and put the buggy up....and then ran back to the sidewalk at the front entrance of walmart.

We found a huge puddle of water and jumped in it...ran around...looked up at the sky and tried to catch the raindrops in our mouth. we played for a good 10 minutes. We were soaked from head to toe.

I forgot my feet were wet and really enjoyed the sound of the rain hitting my covered up head. A smile had spread over my face and I couldn’t get it off, no matter how hard I tried or how strange the looks people were throwing at us. Playing in the rain is truly a nonpareil experience, as I felt so at peace with myself, so full of life and watching my daughter with not a care in the world...just dancing in the rain.

During our play session, I saw people running to and from their cars, covering their heads and shrieking as if they were melting. The world around me seemed in distress over the wet weather, whereas I was enjoying myself to the fullest. The air was clear and fresh, and there weren’t many people about which I thought was just fine.

My feet were wet, my clothes drenched....hair plastered to my forehead.....but I didn’t mind. The exterior of my 10 dollar walmart raincoat was in dire need of some dry surroundings, but I didn’t mind. Baileys clothes were soaked... but she didn’t mind. In that moment, nothing else mattered.....Because if I had been blessed with a good singing voice I would have been standing in the front of wal-mart, singing in the rain.

Her and I walked to my car and got my wallet out...went back into the store and bought a towel. The cashier told us that she was so sorry we had gotten caught in the rain....and I responded by saying "We didn't get caught in the rain....we had been blessed by the rain".....and we left. 

We did not get ice cream that day.....but I think I gave my daughter something better than ice cream. And she gave me a new perspective.

 I have thought back on this experience often over the last few days....

Life is not always about doing what others do. Life is not always about complaining about bad weather and hiding from it. Life is about accepting what comes onto your path and swinging bad situations around, turning them into an enjoyable experience.

Sure, having rain for days doesn’t do much for your mood. But neither does sitting inside all day long. The rain won’t stop until it stops, there’s no button to press or remote control to grab hold of. You simply have to sit it out.

Don’t let negative external factors throw you off your personal high. Keep going, keep your head up, and learn to enjoy yourself through every situation. Because that’s what makes you truly nonpareil; seeing the good in every apparent bad.

I just keep having to remind myself to dance in the rain every chance I get....even on the bad days....even on the days where I feel like the rain will never stop....even on the days where I feel like I can find no joy....no peace.

Those are the days that we will look back at. Those are days where lessons are learned. Those are the days that we have a nonpareil experience..... :)

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"Saturday's......"

Good Friday is over. Now it’s Saturday.

Saturday. As Jesus’ friends awoke, the day after they watched their dear friend violently die, I imagine it took some longer than others to remember. As the morning sun streamed in the windows, bringing the promise of a new day, their memories of the night before caught up with them. The morning sun no longer held promise. Just defeat.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

How could Jesus leave them like this?

Where do we go from here?

I’ve been there. I’ve lived through a “Saturday” filled with hopelessness. My life wasn’t supposed to look like this. I was supposed to have purpose. Things weren’t supposed to look this way. It didn’t feel as if I would ever find joy again.

Let me ask you, Are you stuck on Saturday? It looks different for all of us. Depression. A soul-killing job. Loss of a job. Illness. Divorce. Death. But one thing is the same, we feel as if God has abandoned us. He’s stopped speaking. Or at least, we’ve stopped hearing. He’s silent. Maybe even…dead.

I will be honest with you here. I have always been honest with my readers. My life has been filled with many Saturday's in the last several months. More than I care to admit. There have been day's that I have made myself smile through the tears....day's that I have ignored texts messages and phone calls because I didn't want to have to pretend. Didn't want to have to lie. Didn't want to have to explain.

I have prayed for guidance. I have prayed for answers....Prayed that God would help me find my purpose in life. Often times in life, when you are looked at as an encourager...you don't want to let the ones that look up to you for inpiration...for that encouragment down. You just don't want to admit that you just don't have it all together. That your life feels like it is falling apart and you are left standing there trying to hold it all together. You are simply holding on by a thread.

You don't want to admit that you, in fact, have no clue as to what you are doing or what you are even supposed to be doing.

As I sit here and type this...I think back on that Saturday after Christ was cruxified. I also can't help but to think the best part of this story is that I know what happens.......The truth is that no day lasts forever. Even Saturday. As Sunday dawned, so did the hopes of the world.

The women came to the tomb. The only ones strong enough to face what had happened. Women, look in the cracks of history, and you will always find us. Doing hard things. Being present at the most glorious moments.

"He isn’t here, he is risen! Go, tell the others."

He is risen!

Everything I believe hangs on this historical fact. He. is. no. longer. dead.

Sunday brings life. Sunday brings hope. Sunday brings the answers to Saturday.

God will not remain silent. Death could not contain Jesus. Sunday will come. And when it does, you can look back and praise him for his faithfulness, even on Saturday.

My Saturday's aren't over. I know there will be plenty more as I learn what my purpose is. I have to remember that through this time of uncertainty in my life.....This time will end. There is a reason for this and he is preparing me for something bigger than I can imagine. He is molding me.....making me lean on my faith...making me trust in him....and only then will he show me the way.

His love is relentless.

Easter is coming, my sweet friends. Let us rejoice in this.

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"Just keep pedaling..."

“People who’ve never read fairy tales, the professor said, have a harder time coping in life than the people who have. They don’t have access to all the lessons that can be learned from the journeys through the dark woods and the kindness of strangers treated decently, the knowledge that can be gained from the company and example of Donkeyskins and cats wearing boots and steadfast tin soldiers. I’m not talking about in-your-face lessons, but more subtle ones. The kind that seep up from your sub¬conscious and give you moral and humane structures for your life. That teach you how to prevail, and trust. And maybe even love.” 

I have been thinking an awful lot lately about lessons I wish I could teach my kids but that, in reality, I know they have to learn on their own – through their own life experiences, by succeeding and failing in their own endeavours, by falling down and getting back up again, over and over and over.

Still, even though there are certain things in life they will come to understand in their own time and on their own terms, maybe if I write something down and they take the time to read it, either now or in the future, while I’m on this earth with them or long after I’m gone, they’ll recognize the lessons more easily when the time comes. Or, at least maybe they’ll know that I love them enough that I wish for them to have this knowledge and the peace that it brings.

So here is the first in what will likely be a series of posts on what I wish my children could know about life right now.

You can do it.

From the time each of us is very little right up until (I imagine) the day we die, we have goals and aspirations ranging from small to big. And, for some reason, there is a voice inside our heads that sometimes convinces us that we can’t accomplish something we want to.

I think the voice has a different volume in each of us and is kinder (or harder) at different times in our lives, but it’s there in all of us.

Khristian, I remember when you were learning to ride a bike…you said, at least once, “I can’t do it!” and you really believed that you couldn’t. You needed to be convinced that you could do it. You needed to be coaxed and encouraged....mainly from PawPaw.  And, eventually, you did it…and, well, Bailey the time is coming that you will do this very same thing....I'm pretty sure it will also be a loud call of encouragement from PawPaw that drives you to take that first ride on your own. That feeling of shocked pride and accomplishment that radiates from your glowing eyes and huge smiles was worth the hours of pushing you on your bike and begging you to just pedal.

As we get older, the things we want to do get bigger and the voices in our heads that say we can’t, get louder. Unfortunately, there’s not always someone pushing us along telling us that we can do it if we just keep trying. So, I guess what I want you to know is that, as long as you’re pedalling, as long as you’re trying to move forward and progress, you can do it.

It really doesn’t matter what it is you want or need to do. Maybe it’s a school assignment that seems to be so much more than you think you’re capable of. Maybe it’s a cartwheel on the balance beam. Maybe it’s making a decision about your future. Maybe it’s a fitness goal that you think you’re just not built for. Maybe it’s saying goodbye to a thing or a person that you know is just not good for you. Maybe it’s beating the bad guy on your new video game. Maybe it’s cleaning your room. It doesn’t matter what it is, and it doesn’t matter what that obnoxious, mean-spirited, doubtful or insecure voice in your head is trying to convince you of… trust me: you can do it.

The most important thing is to start trying. Sometimes, starting is all it takes and you surprise yourself at how easily you accomplished what you set out to do. Other times, it’ll be harder and you’ll get frustrated and that voice will get louder.

Don’t. Give. Up.

You may need to ask for help, and that’s ok. It’s more than ok. It’s brilliant. Don’t ever be embarrassed or ashamed to ask for help. The smartest, most accomplished people in this world know how to ask for help. I know I can’t always be the one you go to…and that’s ok…but it’s important that you ask someone if you need help or guidance or support. And, if that person can’t help you, ask someone else. And, so on and so forth.

Don’t decide not to start something because you’re afraid you can’t finish. Don’t decide a dream is too big before you’ve given yourself the chance to nurture it. Don’t do a poor job because that voice is telling you a good job is beyond you.

Start. Try. Dream. Do.

You will be happier for it. The world will be better for it. And, I’ll be here cheering you on, having known the whole time that ....you can do it.

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"In the stillness..."

Last night, I went to check on Bailey.... I do most nights when I randomly wake up at all times during the night. So at 2 AM I peeked into her bedroom. But unlike other nights,  I sat next to her bed on the floor and watched her sleep for a while. During the day, she is a whirlwind. She never sits still for long, and even when she is sitting, she isn’t still. 

Tonight, there was something about her face I couldn’t make myself walk away from, and it took me a few minutes to figure it out. I could see baby Bailey in her face tonight. Something about her expression and the way she was laying, she just didn’t look like her normal three-year-old self. She looked younger.

And any parent knows, your kid looking YOUNGER than they actually are is a rarity. Older, sure! But not younger.

So, I sat and I watched her. And I thought about how when she was a baby I was always so excited about the next milestone, wondering when she would crawl, walk, talk, and on and on. I thought about how it used to just be the two of us during the day, and how much time we would spend cuddling on the couch or playing peek-a-boo.

I thought about how heartbroken I was to go back to work. I remember about much I worried about leaving her...scared of even missing one moment with her....scared of leaving her period.....and I remember how much she absolutely didn't care that I left her that first day because she had Pawpaw and Mawmaw there to dote on her every move. 

 I realized that at some point I have stopped looking forward to milestones. I am still delighted by them when they happen... But milestones make me sad, too. 

Because I know that tomorrow I will wake up and both of my babies will be a day older. I will have one day less of them being babies in my future, and one day more of their lives will be in the past. 

My sweet girl has grown and changed so much in the three short years I’ve had the privilege of being her mommy. And Khristian's milestones are coming quicker than I can keep up with. 

As I sat by her bed and watched her sleep so peacefully, I think about our world today. About 9/11. About Paris. About refugees and suicide bombers. About school shooting and theatre bombings. About what we as Americans are facing in our country today. She knows nothing of hatred and cruelty. She knows nothing of this world and the evil that lies beyond our front door. 

I think back to a couple night ago when she runs into my bedroom claiming that there is a monster in her bedroom....In my mind, I can her wide eyes looking up at me in panic believing that I can keep her safe from anything. I scooped her up into a big hug and smoothed her hair...reassuring her that there was no such thing as monsters. I picked her up and sat her on my bed....put some cartoons on to occupy her mind and headed to her room. The monster turned out to be a spider that had crawled under her bed....and despite being completely creeped out by this tiny 8 legged demon spawn....I killed it and became the hero she believes me to be. 

So last night as I sat by her bed and watched her chest rise and fall, her soft curls sweep across her forehead and her tiny hands that wrap around my neck every morning in a hug.....how do I tell this beautiful angel that monsters do exist in our world? They aren't big and scary....with razor sharp teeth. They look just like me and you....nice and put together....but what makes them a monster lies within. There is a inconceivable evil that I can't even begin to explain to her...and it terrifies me. It terrifies me for both of my children. No matter how much she looks at me as the hero....I can't protect her from the monsters of the world. 

So last night,  I sat by her bed and let all the sweet memories play through my head....and soaked up her innocence in that moment.  And then, just before I got up off the floor, I kissed her nose, right between her eyes....and I prayed. Because in a world where I am terrified of what my children will face on a daily basis....of what our country will face on a daily basis....praying is the only thing that makes sense. Our country needs to fall on its knees and remember what it was founded on. 

I stood up kissed her again and she snuggled deeper into her pillow and smiled in her sleep, and my heart melted.... So I kissed her again. She frowned and rolled away from me with a little huff…and I had to stifle a laugh, because even in her sleep she is a sassy little thing. 

Before I closed her door behind me, I looked at her one last time and smiled......She had snuggled back into her pillow and was still.....I looked down the hallway into Khristans room...and he was snuggled into his pillow as well.....I was reminded to hold onto the precious moments of stillness. For in a couple of hours the sun will rise, the day will begin....and they will be a day older. 

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"Strength is often found most in the hardest times..."

My Sweet Bailey, 

I hope your view of your Mother is that of a strong, confident woman who has stubbornly shown you how women can achieve whatever they want to. This is not a letter to you about feminism, or equality, or anything else socially or politically driven, sometimes I think those things put an added pressure on us all, men, women, adult and child alike.

Instead, this is a letter to you to tell you that although I hope to be a strong role model throughout your life, sometimes I am weak. Hopefully I keep that from you and you will grow to be confident and self assured, but also kind, and compassionate. But you should know there are some days when I am, frankly, an emotionally mess. I have worked my way from a single teenage mom, who was a waitress and begged to work every free hour she had to take care of your brother..... to working in a office environment as a Secretary for the last 8 years. I take pride in knowing that I have never been handed anything in my life...I have worked and worked hard for everything that we have. 

As I sit here and type this, I find myself in a gray area again. I don't know which way my life is going. Change is in the air. I am searching for another job....and to some that seems so trivial to worry about...but for me, Its a shake up in the foundation that I have worked so hard to lay for our family for so many years. I do not have a college degree. I do not have much experience in many fields....and I do not qualify for many of the jobs available on the market. I feel like I am once again back to square 1...wondering where this wind of change will take me. 

This pressure sometimes gets to me. I know what I am good at. I know what I am passionate about....but I also know that although I love these things, it will not give me the security I need to raise you and your brother and afford me with the benefits I need to take care of myself in the future. 

Your dad and I are very lucky, we get to spend a lot of time with you even when we are working. I was hired at my current job because of my knowledge, experience and based on merit. My worries are based on my own insecurities.  While I work my full time job, I also have a part time job. That is where my passion truly lies. In helping people....In seeing their eyes light up with absolute joy of realizing they can do the impossible. And while I am off making this dream of mine come true....your grandparents are a God send. You see, I have had so many people that have helped in this area of my life. I will never be able to repay the gratitude I feel for these family members and friends. They know who they are. I am beyond blessed that you have such a close relationships with your Grandparents and other close family members that live near by. Do I still feel guilty for the efforts your Grandparents need to make so we can thrive in our chosen work fields? Yes of course I do, I can only hope they know how appreciated it is and how much of a difference it makes. It has enabled us to get where we are and carry on providing you and your brother with a certain quality of life. Do I still feel the pressure of our heavy workload? Of course, but I count my lucky stars that we have the opportunities that we do. 

So which side is the lie? Is the happy highlights a myth? Or is the self doubt, struggles and hard work the illusion? The truth is, they’re both my reality. The self doubt sometimes keeps me grounded. The precious moments I share on social media keep me motivated and the struggles remind me it’s all worth it. 

The definition of a strong, confident person does not mean one that never doubts themselves, it doesn’t mean someone who never has a bad day or find their choices difficult. Strength is often found most in the hardest times. Someone who has constant success or continual highs has no need for strength. Someone who has never had bad times, has never needed to overcome them. As your Mother, I will fight to my last breath to keep you safe and give you and your brother as idyllic a childhood as I can but the truth is, as you grow up, the lows will be just as important as your highs for getting you where you need to be.

So I hope the view of your Mother is that of a strong and confident woman. I will be sure to tell you about each and every person that has helped me along...... But for you, my highlights reel will be accompanied by at least a sneak peek of the backstage pass, the parts you can learn from, the bits that could give you strength. The struggles that so many like to keep hidden. I'm sure there will be some days when you will feel weak, when you will question if you are making the right decisions, you will probably even have seasons in life where change blows in like a hurricane; in those days I want you walk the course with a understanding that you are not walking that path alone....that your mother has often felt that way in so many steps of life. But she wasn't a quitter and neither are you.  So my beautiful girl, in your weakest days, remember that you are strong. In your most insecure days, remember that you are confident. Remember these things when you can’t remember why you’re doing whatever your doing, and know that through all of it, you are unquestionably, and unchangingly loved.

All my love,

Mommy 

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"The view from the top of the stairs...."

"When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny....” 

I entered through the double glass doors and made a slight turn to the left and started up the first set of stairs......I could fell the sunshine warming my face as I came to a small platform that lead into another set of stairs.....I stepped onto the first step and then the next....with each step I took a slow, small smile started to spread across my face. I could feel the sunshine coming through the window and lighting up each and every step I took. By the time that I got to the very top step....it was a full blow, confident, I'm so proud of myself smile. I turned and gazed out the large window laid before me....looking out over the quad of Troy University. 

That journey up the staircase was 8 years ago. I was scared...I was young....I had skills that had not yet been established and sharpened....I still felt like a little kid inside an adults body. I felt like I was playing dress up in my new dress and high heels that I bought just for this day. My first day as a Troy University employee. 

I stood at the top of that staircase....looking at the view through the window and thought to myself with tears in my eyes "I have finally made it." I heard Dr. Hawkins step off the elevator and I turned and was immediately tongue tied as he asked me if I was lost.....I finally responded "No Sir....I am new here and today is my first day. I was just admiring the view at the top of the staircase." Dr. Hawkins responded "It's quite breathtaking at times. I am pleased to have you come work for our great University and we are happy to have you."  And thus began my 8 year journey at Troy. 

Last week, unexpectedly, I was told that my position with the Troy University was being terminated due to budget cuts. I felt like the breath was knocked out of me....like my blanket of security was being yanked away. I've been on this floor...at the top of the stairs with the view through the window...with my colleagues that have become family for the last 8 years. We have watched each other have children, get married, laugh, celebrated birthdays, small successes, failures, ready to throat punch one another one moment and in the next second asking what it is we can do to help them. These people are my family. 

I took a couple days to myself last week and reflected on the change that was about to take place in my life. I was given 3 months to find another job and was assured that I would be helped and I had a whole slew of people in my corner to make sure I was taken care of. 

While sitting on the beach Friday afternoon, looking out over the beautiful water and watching a family play in the water....I thought about how life is a journey. Often times our story takes unexpected turns and we find ourselves in places we never thought we’d be.  That’s the beauty of life.  Uncertainty, although scary, is what gives life meaning.

Think about it.  Love comes unexpectedly.  Children sometimes come unexpectedly.  Job promotions, raises, friends and even death.  All the things that make life great come as a plot twist in our story.  We don’t know what lies ahead.  That’s the way an author likes it.  That’s what makes for a good story.

Life is an amazing adventure.  We will have good times and bad, but our attitude makes the difference in how we come through those things.  A good attitude even in the worst of situations will take you a long way.  Will it be easy? No.  It’s not supposed to be easy.  We wouldn’t need God if it was.  We have to be totally dependent on him.  He’s the author.   When you read a book, you trust that the author is going to weave a good story that will leave you longing for more.  Trust him.  Surrender everything to him and know that no matter what you’re going through, he has put together an amazing story that is all your own.  No one else has your story.

Allow yourself to experience life.  Don’t close yourself off.  Don’t put up walls.  We tend to do that when we’ve been hurt or when we’ve experienced great loss.  When you hide yourself away, you are telling the Author that the story he wrote for you, isn’t good enough. Turn the page.  Know that he has your best interest at heart and that he will come through for you.

So as I prepare to leave my job of the last 8 years....and my future with Troy University is uncertain. I want to take a moment to appreciate what the view at the top of the stairs has given me. 

It gave a former teenage mother that had worked tooth and nail to find some form of stability in her life the platform she needed to build on. It gave me a hope that someone like me could make it....could struggle and strive and make it. I gave me the opportunity to work on myself....to watch people of a higher standard and to learn from them. It gave me the best work family I could have ever dreamed of....it gave me a girl that I am honored to call one of my best friends...and I can't tell you how hard it will be to not be right across the hall from her. Most of all, it gave me a sense of pride. I stood at the top of those stairs....and I was proud of myself for once. I was proud to be a Troy Trojan. 

So, Thank you Troy.....Thank you from the bottom of my heart, for the view at the top of the stairs. It's been a great view and one I will never forget.

You were right Dr. Hawkins.....It is quite breathtaking at times. 

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