tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56908890366955527832024-03-14T03:45:01.413-05:00strong coffee warming up my fingertipsfind a cozy seat and enjoy.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-45773420984210481632009-11-16T14:50:00.001-06:002009-11-16T14:50:12.624-06:00My Heart Belongs in Mexico<p><b>Day 1</b> <br />It was 5 in the morning, I got into the car and took the trip to Omaha’s Eppley Airfield (air field…sounds like a corn field). I am halfway awake, as it is early in the morning and I only went to bed at 3 am from staying up writing a paper, one I should have written prior to the night before I left. I am not exactly a bundle of joy, but little do I know what will take place in my life and heart over the next 5 days.</p> <p>After arriving at the airport and having a Scooter’s latte, and seeing the smiles I so adore from my church family, I began to rise from my sleeping state, though the sun was still sleeping. We loaded up and sat on the plane, ready to roll. At this point my stomach begins to turn, and I’m not sure if that is the anticipation of the take off or the excitement of the reality that I am on my way to Mexico for an awesome trip. I’m guessing both. The flight was short, and we were landing in Phoenix, AZ in the blink of an eye. After a Wal-Mart trip, sand volleyball with a bunch of drunken Arizona college boys, and a relaxing 10 minutes in a hot tub, we settled down for an anticipated short night of sleep.</p> <p><b>Day 2</b> <br />We woke up at 6 am to make the 4 hour drive south to Puerto Peñasco, Mexico. Our group of 49 arrived around noon that Saturday, and sent up our tent city on the Amor Ministries campsite. Amor Ministries has been in Puerto Peñasco for years, and partners in organizing our trip. After our camp is up, we head out to meet our family for the first time. We know only their names and ages at this point, and we have been praying for them for a while, so we are all giddy!</p> <p>Amor chooses to build homes for people who own land in a land fill. We drive through this sandy terrain of trash, and dodge all of the dingoes on our way in to meet the Merino Hernandez family. After getting stuck in what seems to be quicksand, we already spring our team work into action pulling out all four 15 passenger vans. The father of the family (which we did not know at this point), Jorge, jumps in to help us get the vans free. After the final van is out, Jorge says with a tear in his eye, “Thank you for coming,” to a few of the members of our team.</p> <p>Walking up to the site, there is nothing but sand and dirt, some building supplies under a makeshift tent, and a same SUV the family was driving. Out of the car comes two 2 year old twin girls, a 9 year old boy, and we see 2 car seats with two beautiful 5 month old babies belted in. Then I turn to see Alba, the mother of these gorgeous kids, and she herself is beauty contained inside of this language barrier we have. She doesn’t know how to express what she feels at this point. She smiles bigger than I thought possible, and she has energy in her that is equivalent to that of the sun. Jorge comes to her aid, as he knows English and can help her express her feelings to us.</p> <p>We hug and talk briefly with them, but then it’s time to work. I began sifting sand that would later be used for the stucco. Others in the group are working on the foundation, digging out the sand to find a sturdy dirt ground, and they frame where we want to put the concrete foundation. The family is still interacting with us, we are all hugging and smiling together, and the children are slowly warming up to all of us. We depart from the site, with quick goodbyes to the family, and we decide to stop by the home we built last year because they live in the same area. We arrive to find no one home, but when we turn to leave, all of a sudden there is yelling and we see a woman running down the street, pregnant, hands waving, and the biggest grin possible. It is Maria, the mother of the family from last year. Now, if you knew her, you would know that she is the last to show emotion: stoic, strong, and appreciative, but not outward. This was a huge contrast to the year before. She recognized our white vans and got really excited to see us. It was beautiful. Soon after, her husband and 4 children arrived home and we all said hello and hugged, and after a quick visit we left the family of 6 (almost 7!) to head back to bond with our team at the campsite. Showers are taken and dinner is served back at the Amor campsite. A time of worship and sitting around the campfire ensues, and then we slip away into sleep on our air mattresses preparing to face the next day, the most strenuous day of labor.</p> <p><b>Day 3</b> <br />It’s Sunday morning, and as all of our friends and family back in Omaha are on their way to church at Stonebridge, we have already been working on laying the concrete foundation for hours. I did everything from hauling concrete mixes in wheelbarrows to using a trowel to smooth the poured concrete foundation. The framework was being built on the side, and with 50 people the work seemed to go by quickly. A lunch break with sandwiches for all, and then back to work. However, throughout the day with such a large group we were able to rotate in and out of jobs. I got to spend some quality time with the family, mostly with Alba and the babies. Alba is a woman who truly has joy in her life. She loves God first and foremost, loves her family, and loved us the moment we showed up. Let me tell you about Alba’s recent encounter with God, and the trust she has in him:</p> <p>Alba and Jorge had been having relationship problems, as Jorge was at work so much, supporting his family, and at the time Alba was pregnant with the twins. She was stressed, he was stressed, and tension was there. So, Jorge quit his job in order to be with his family and help Alba back in December of last year. He decided that family was more important than income, which I would agree with, but I’m not sure how many people would actually go through with this leap of faith. He trusted that God would provide. During this time, Alba and Jorge restored their relationship, but then money began to dwindle. Their landlord was letting them make smaller payments, but still they were struggling. Alba and Jorge had been in deep prayer about their situation, and were relying on God through it all, amazing. Then they get the news that they are being evicted November 16th this year, so they needed to find somewhere to go. Instead of losing hope, Alba continued to pray, and one day God told Alba that God promised them a house. Jorge just trusted this and continued to rely on God. Shortly after, they got the news that our team was coming to build them a home. This was God’s promise fulfilled, we were the answer to their prayers and they were the ones we have been praying for. We finished our house on November 10th, and they now have a place to live and shelter their five beautiful children. I am still in awe of Alba’s trust in the Lord.</p> <p>Our second day on the site came to an end, and after all of the cement was done and smooth, the framework was finished and sand was sifted, we packed up and cleaned tools and said our goodbyes for the night. This time goodbyes to the family were longer, more meaningful, and full of a mutual love. Back at the campsite I braided hair, talked with people around the camp fire, and enjoyed the night I was given. I had trouble falling asleep, knowing tomorrow was a big day, but finally I drifted off.</p> <p><b>Day 4</b> <br />I woke up genuinely excited to be awake at 6 am (and this is saying something for those of you who know me, mornings are not my forte) because this day is the best day of them all. We now have relationships established with the family, and can’t wait to reunite in the warm Mexico morning, starting another adventurous day together. Today is the best because we get to see what I would call the “first draft” of their home. Let me explain the building process on this day:</p> <p>1. Frame work goes up, is squared off, and the roof framing goes up <br />2. Plywood covers the roof; tar paper goes over the framework of the four outer walls and the roof <br />3. Shingles are placed on the roof, and chicken wire is stretched over the tar paper on the four walls while the stucco is being mixed <br />4. The doors and windows are set in <br />5. Finally the stucco goes over the chicken wire to complete the first layer. </p> <p> So this day is a day when working as a team makes the process smooth. With fifty people, it’s hard to tell what could happen, but with our common goal to serve and help this family, we had no problems. During this huge build, I stop to observe everything around me. I hear the children sing worship songs in Spanish for their little VBS, and see Alba still smiling, and Jorge helping frame and stucco his home; I feel like God had to have been smiling down on us, this picture I have in my head on our worksite was near perfection. It was the way the earth was intended to work: unity, laughter, fellowship, working hard, and sharing God’s love. It couldn’t have been a better day. Goodbyes seemed to be longer still leaving the near complete home. We as a whole know that tomorrow is coming, goodbye is drawing closer, and our hearts don’t want to face this just yet. It is another bumpy ride through the sand dunes back to Amor camp. We then discovered that Jorge and Alba would be joining us for dinner at the campsite that night, and we couldn’t wait. After another shower from a bag, a delicious dinner was ready. Jorge and Alba finally showed up and we enjoyed laughing and sharing our stories. I got to talk to Alba a little while she sat and ate her dinner and we laughed over exchanging the words “hot chocolate” in each other’s languages. I learned to say “chocolate caliente” which was much easier for me to say than for her to say “hot chocolate.” In these moments of laughter though, I realized that language is not a barrier when you have love in the mix, God’s love. All it takes is effort from both sides and communication is always possible. It was astounding to see our cultures collide, yet mesh completely. It goes to show that we are one in Christ, and all things are possible through Him.</p> <p>The stars began to shine as the evening set in, the Milky Way engulfed the sky, and a time of worship around the fire perfected the day. Watching Jorge sing the worship songs, seeing Alba hold her husband’s hand as they praised God, beauty I can’t explain. The night ended when they left the campsite, and I slipped into my sleeping bag for a cozy night in the tent. It never felt so good to lay down in bed, thinking about the events of the day and slipping into perfect dreams.</p> <p><b>Day 5</b> <br />This was it. Waking up this morning was bittersweet, because we were going to hand over the keys this afternoon, but with the keys we would also exchange goodbyes that would not be easy. The finished home would mean our finished trip and this caused an exciting devastation that hung over the campsite this morning; however our moods are still great. We go pedal to the metal, full throttle through the sand, one of our last bumpy rides until next year. Spanish music plays in the car as we bounce around the van, and the joy contained in the 15 passenger van is almost too much to handle. We jump out at the work site and we’re eager to finish so we can have more time to say goodbyes and love on one another. We have 3 hours, and in about an hour and a half we finish with the last coat of stucco. Amazing. So, here came the overflow of picture taking, smiles, tears, and hugs. We hand over the keys, the 5 month old babies cranky in the Mexico sun, but it seems appropriate. We are all a little cranky, a little shaken, and unready for our departure from the family. These moments are kind of a blur to me. We pray, Jorge prays for us in Spanish, and I don’t understand most of it, but I understand the intensity and his cry of praise to God. He then asks for a pact. Not a contract that could be changed, but a pact. Jorge asks that we inform him of when we would be back next year, because he needed to be a part of our team, our family, for the next mission. He cannot form the words of gratitude he wishes to express, and only tears can sum up the emotion. We agree that they are a part of our Stonebridge family, and will be in contact with him. Luckily he has access to check email, so this eases the goodbyes, knowing this is only the beginning of a beautiful relationship. I got to hold the babies one last time, hugged Alba many times, and she asked me to promise to come back next year, “proximo año.” And I promised.</p> <p>At that, I had to just turn and walk to the vans. No looking back, trying to hold my head high knowing lives were changed in Mexico. However, I know that though this family was changed by our team, truly our team was changed by them.</p> <p>We make the drive back to Phoenix, tents stowed away with our luggage in the trailers behind our big white vans. Crossing that border was something fierce; the reality of going home sets in. Though, it seemed to be easy knowing that what was just built is not left behind and forgotten. As Jorge said, he was grateful for the home, but the relationships built were the pinnacle of this experience. These bonds cannot be forgotten.</p> <p>We settle down into our hotel in Phoenix, and I feel so guilty checking into a super classy hotel by the airport with running water, electricity, a pool, hot tub, and all of the coffee and hot chocolate you could want. It doesn’t seem fair that we had to leave that family behind to come to something “better.” I don’t know that it is better, I feel like it’s just a catered life of expectation we as Americans live. Looking at the 3 elevators and 1 employee elevator, I realize that’s just for speed as though one elevator isn’t good enough. I complain about the firmness of the bed the moment I sit on it. I quickly back track and appreciate the fact that I have a bed to sleep on for the night. Transition is hard, but life lessons are even harder. Nothing is the same after you’ve experienced life on the other side of the fence (or border).</p> <p>While with the family in Mexico, I experienced true love, true reliance on God, and the importance of family. The Merino Hernandez Family has priorities right: God, family, work, money; in that order. Going to bed that night, I reflected on this, and what I need to take away from Mexico. Aside from all of the bonds that happened, I also take away a new outlook on needs, on sacrifice, on relying on God, and on being satisfied. Not that I will have everything right, but I will be more conscious of these things in my life.</p> <p>Day 6 <br />This is it, and lucky for you the blog is coming to the end. After going through the airport security twice due to liquids in my carry on, I was in the terminal and ready to leave. This is a side note, but over the past 5 days I’ve seen God encouraging me to pursue nursing. There were many conversations that lead to someone encouraging me to go into nursing. I feel like this is something God showed me over the past 5 days.</p> <p>Well, I say goodbye to the Arizona heat and load onto the plane. The flight back is entertaining with the lovely ladies I sit by, and sooner than I thought possible we were back in Omaha. It seemed like I blinked and I somehow ended up back at Eppley where I started. Time flies when you’re having fun! Hugs at the airport, and I drive back into reality with my sore abs from so much laughter and a nice bronze tint to my skin. Though I move forward in time and in life, a piece of my heart will always belong in Mexico.</p> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-84200671909260653412009-10-14T14:01:00.002-05:002009-10-14T15:48:25.371-05:00Passport? Check.Trinidad. February. 2010.<br /><br />I've been blessed with the opportunity to go overseas and share God's promise and truth with high school kids at a camp in Trinidad. I'm ecstatic! I've never been more excited to be asked to go on a trip :) A team from my college is going out in the middle of February for an eleven day trip.<br /><br />In February, there is a huge nationwide celebration in Trinidad called Carnival. It's pretty much like a Mardi Gras festival, only exponentially bigger. The camp I'm going to be working with is like an escape for the kids in Trinidad. They get away from the massive party scene and get to experience an entirely different kind of setting. The team from NCC will be leading worship, but my focus will mainly be on the kids and connecting with them. I'm so excited to interact with the high schoolers! I'm intrigued with different cultures, what everyday life is like for them, and how it is so different or similar to my own.<br /><br />I'm excited for the trip, but actually right now I would really love some prayer for those kids who will be at the camp. Pray for their hearts to soften, and for them to hear what God has in store for their lives. Prayer for the team and the preparation for the trip would also be amazing.<br /><br />I'm too excited for words right now :) more later.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-20858261655241223312009-10-03T17:25:00.004-05:002009-10-03T18:27:37.204-05:00shut your eyes and think of somewhere...spice up your life! i've discovered a cure to monotony. by george i've got it!<br /><br />did you ever realize how much more fun life is with different dialects and accents? well. it really is. every bright idea comes in the form of a british accent. every insult is funnier with a hint of ghetto fabulous. and every wednesday is exponentially happier with speech impediments.<br /><br />so my room mates and i have been adding a little bit of culture in our room. it's a true melting pot. here's what we've come up with:<br /><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">yo' mama monday</span>: shoot gurrrrl. ghetto fab. kool aid hurr dye....uhh thats nasty.<br /><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">tennessee tuesday</span>: bring ur sweet tea and fried chicken y'all. southern dialect all the way.<br /><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">withsping wednthday</span>: every speech impediment you could possibly imagine. sounds pretty special.<br /><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">UK thursday</span>: a british kind of day. a little cockney thrown in there, East London. harry potter is a good way to develop this kind of tongue.<br /><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">freedom friday</span>: pick whatever you want. australian, irish, stuttering, mute. it's up to you. i personally enjoy being a ghetto brit. good fun.<br /><br />weekends are break time. it's hard being so worldly! if you want to try to mix it up...give the dialects a shot. its good stuff. youtube also has some wonderful tutorials. so go crazy folks.<br /><br /><br /><br />i'll end with a random top ten:<br />top ten reasons i wish i was at disney world right now<br />10. i wouldnt be here in the cold<br />9. themed restaurants<br />8. i could wear my lilo and stitch shirt and fit in<br />7. i would like to ask belle about her relationship with the beast made human. weird transition i'd assume.<br />6. funnel cake<br />5. disney world has underground trashcans<br />4. 3D shows everywhere<br />3. rollercoasters<br />2. i feel like a kid again in disney world<br />1. i need a mouseketeer hat. need.<br /><br /><br />with love <3Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-27054481701341799432009-09-20T23:57:00.005-05:002009-09-21T00:19:52.275-05:00bomb in a birdcage<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVsJjmdm_cO0Cvv_Xfn5ep56vySesx22M2mfrAXIzNyYlTuOMecnTLtSU8d_HbpOu_Kr_vOEnJ4OdLt2jiQ72D-NQTspaiMeYcP_06ncktdHZplMPO6cfslDJoHGNOeWeBxwyF5AQBF1Y/s1600-h/postsecret061204.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383781632066050738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVsJjmdm_cO0Cvv_Xfn5ep56vySesx22M2mfrAXIzNyYlTuOMecnTLtSU8d_HbpOu_Kr_vOEnJ4OdLt2jiQ72D-NQTspaiMeYcP_06ncktdHZplMPO6cfslDJoHGNOeWeBxwyF5AQBF1Y/s400/postsecret061204.jpg" border="0" /></a>Have you ever had <div align="left">one of those days</div><div align="left">when everything</div><div align="left">should be perfect</div><div align="left">but nothing is<br />okay?</div><br /><br />Just because I'm surviving, doesn't mean it's okay.<br /><br />I want to start something new. Revolutionary. Step out of the ordinary. I've been living a day to day, monotonous, repetitious life. School. Volleyball. Homework. Sleep. Rinse. Repeat.<br /><br />Any ideas on how to spice up someone's normal, average life? I feel boring and I am not a boring girl. Time to get crazy! I'll inform you of any progress that may take place.<br /><br />p.s. highlight of my day? noticing a man at church's pant leg was tucked into the back of one of his shoes.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-35339865410431078602009-09-13T12:01:00.001-05:002009-09-13T12:01:28.503-05:00I’m a Judge Judy<p>When you come through my Scooter’s drive thru, I judge you based on the coffee or drink you order. For example:</p> <p>Large Carmelicious, Skinny, Sugar-free, but with whipped cream <br />     This obviously means you’re trying to be healthy about going through the drive thru at a coffeehouse, so you get it sugar free and with skim milk…but you ruin it with adding whipped cream, because it’s actually worse than if you left it regular with no whipped cream. So you are a bad dieter.</p> <p>Brewed coffee with a ton of cream and 10 splenda packets <br />     Ok really? Just get a latte. This is a poor man’s latte because you are just adding stuff to coffee and the creamer is bad for you. Get a latte with steamed milk and espresso. It’s better. Stop being cheap.</p> <p>Small mocha smoothie, skinny…and a muffin. <br />     The small mocha smoothie means you don’t want a lot of smoothie because they are not too good for you. Well guess what? The muffin is worse for you than anything else here. It’s got enough calories for an entire meal. Get a large mocha smoothie that’s skinny and skip the muffin. You’ll be better off. And skip the whipped cream.</p> <p>I could go on…but you don’t want to be bored I’m sure. Just wanting you to know that every time you go through a drive thru, you’re probably being judged…so watch what you order :)</p> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-59219300070977971862009-09-12T21:16:00.002-05:002009-09-12T21:42:06.313-05:00Saturday night :)Well, I've been productive today. Or not productive. Depends on what you would consider productive. If you see movie watching, eating, more movie watching, and then more eating productive...then I get an A+ for the day.<br /><br />But for my own sanity and wellbeing, I'm pretty sure my day of vegging out was mentally productive. Sometimes a person just needs a day of nothing in order to cope with busyness of the previous week…or weeks :) I would say I was successful today.<br /><br />I was convincing a friend to buy a Snuggie today, and I have for you my top ten reasons to buy a Snuggie:<br /><br />10. No hand restrictions<br />9. You can be warm and still play board games, text, read, surf the internet, or hit people<br />8. Economic, $14.99 at Target for a multifaceted blanket<br />7. Everybody’s getting one<br />6. The commercial is superb and deserves to make money…did you see them drinking hot chocolate?<br />5. It is able to be worn as a robe if you put it on backwards<br />4. The robe could double as a long fuzzy trench coat when worn in public<br />3. Great for wearing at family events<br />2. If you get an animal print, you can hide easily in the jungle, or have a Halloween costume<br />1. Washable, in case of any accidents that may occur<br /><br />These aren’t in any particular order, but it definitely justifies my spending $15 on a blanket. And hopefully it convinces you to purchase one as well.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-33191914901653580792009-09-10T13:42:00.000-05:002009-09-10T13:43:19.202-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5AXJl1uczS4OqkERAs6hybikSrxda5cGtonZxQCKiAiPx-IeiAW-1MyXnLjsaU8gKumOCTLSphyJT7TZWdMI5NMI8UDaHSrhoBwKZc9n1Jje-IWbMrc73OjVX2AQkUAyLfyzvsureoo/s1600-h/katie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379911213891243346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5AXJl1uczS4OqkERAs6hybikSrxda5cGtonZxQCKiAiPx-IeiAW-1MyXnLjsaU8gKumOCTLSphyJT7TZWdMI5NMI8UDaHSrhoBwKZc9n1Jje-IWbMrc73OjVX2AQkUAyLfyzvsureoo/s320/katie.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-25555107927804662102009-09-10T13:36:00.002-05:002009-09-10T13:41:50.994-05:00false alarm!Well, this is my blog. That's not false. The false is about the hair. Katie's fuzz is falling out, so it's time for a shave! Only another month of bald, and I can see these locks grow. No big deal...I realize that it's four weeks. I can stick that out, cake. I was excited to grow it out, but I know that I am doing this for Katie and not for anyone else, so I'll definitely stick this one out :) I look good bald anyway.<br /><br /><a id="myphotolink" href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=30419794&id=1319130125"></a><a id="myphotolink" href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=30419794&id=1319130125"></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-69104106609515584902009-09-10T00:50:00.002-05:002009-09-10T00:57:24.203-05:00Redo.comThe time has come to grow back some hair. Katie is finally getting the hair back and I'm so excited! Since she has hair growing and I'm growing mine back, this blogging about baldness has no point. Bald won't exist much longer.<br /><br />However, I decided to just redo the entire blog and just make it my own personal blog. I'll fill the space with the wonderfully awkward events life may throw, the random thoughts I have, and the countless hours of homework procrastination this blog will allow.<br /><br />Prepare for madness.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-14176540857881736752009-08-31T14:17:00.003-05:002009-08-31T14:34:17.869-05:00Falling slowly.It's getting old. It's been almost 7 weeks of bald headedness for this girl...and I'll be honest, I want hair back. Easy enough right? Grow it back...big deal. Yet, inside it's far more complicated. I'm sticking it out with Katie bug because this is my way of sacrificing for her. I pray more, I am humbled often, and I need this. However, I am struggling big time.<br /><br />This small struggle is still teaching me. I can just grow my hair back in a matter of months as soon as I decide to stop buzzing it.1 I have a choice. Many people don't; Katie has no choice. So, though I would love to just give in and let my hair grow, I'm not giving in.<br /><br />Why is it so bad? Well friends, I guess it's because people are just mean. People stare, and not in a way that says, "Why doesn't she have hair?" but it's more of a, "What the hell is wrong with that girl?" I get pointed at, giggled at, and the stink eye (and it's NOT just the way their face is, haha). Surprisingly, it is overwhelming how much of the crap I get comes from young adults 20 years of age all the way up to older people. Sad. People can be so rude! I don't usually let it bother me, but last week at a high school I was stared at, laughed at, pointed at, and that was kind of unexpected. I went to play volleyball in a gym and left with as much confidence in myself as I have in my volleyball skills...zero. Wasn't my best of days.<br /><br />Eyes can hurt. Words are one thing, but body language pierces the heart of others if you aren't careful. I learned that I need to be fully aware of the looks I give others, the moments I choose to laugh, and the way I react.<br /><br />I am bald by choice remember. What if I had no choice and I was treated the way I am sometimes. I can't even put into words how that must feel for sick people. For my Katie, I empathize fully. It's not always fun to be different.<br /><br />To end on a more positive note, I have friends I hold closer to my heart than any small rude gesture I receive. I have those who pick me up and encourage me. I am a fully blessed girl. And a tired one today too...so I may need to come back around and edit this post, because who knows if I'm making any sense :) American Idol concert last night with one of my favorite girls in the world. Road trips are wonderfully exhausting.<br /><br />With love.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-17637229043892094842009-08-19T00:45:00.003-05:002009-08-19T01:04:06.110-05:00There really is heart warming good in this world, dig deep.Two short stories. Aaaand go:<br /><br />First off, at Scheel's. I've been desperately searching for a winter hat with ear flaps. So out of season, but I just get cold. So, I head for the sporting goods store in hopes of a skiing section of some sort. I find nothing, so after browsing, I ask a woman if there are any winter hats..just to be sure. She looks at me for a moment and says that she doesn't think they have anything out for that time of year yet. I simply shrug and say, "Alright, thanks!" and turn to walk away. She then stops me and asks me to follow her. I imagined she must have had some epiphany of where the hats were, so I followed. Then she takes me to this big door and tells me to wait a minute. So I stand there, wondering why I've been lead into the back. She then comes out with a huge box of winter hats and tells me, "These aren't supposed to be out yet, but you just go ahead and search through to see if you find one you like." Hm. This is where it clicked that she probably thought I was sick. So, I kindly said that she didn't need to do this and after going back and forth for a minute I thank her with a smile and go on my way. I am not sick, and I don't NEED a hat. I just wanted one. This lady went behind the scenes for me so I could have a winter hat. It seems like maybe I used my bald head to milk it here, but I kindly denied, and actually found out that there are people who genuinely care for others. I think a person who is sick should be treated special every once in a while. They go through complete hell sometimes, and a gracious smile and someone going above and beyond may be embarrassing to someone who is sick, but it shows that there is compassion in this broken world.<br /><br />Next:<br /><br />Sephora. I needed new foundation. I was way excited because Bare Essentials had a new line of matte powder foundation. So I enter the store and ask for help in finding the right shade. The lady was really sweet to me and even tested them out on my skin. All protocol for this store. Then I am on my way to the check out counter and she rings me up, then throws in a free sample of lip balm stuff. Again, normal for them. But she then pulls me in and tells me that she is opening this makeup brush and giving it to me because it hasn't been put out on the shelf yet. It was her little secret. That, not so much normal. She gave me that look of pity a little bit, and that she was doing all she could to try to make my day a good one. I didn't really think about this until I told my mom the story and she said, "Oh the lady thought you had cancer, I'm sure." I then put two and two together.<br /><br />I don't know how it would feel, being sick. Being bald is one thing, but having cancer and being bald not by choice...a whole different ball park. However, though the special treatment gets embarrassing I'm sure, and the looks of pity get sickening after a while, it must be nice to have those kind of people around. I can have such an array of looks on the street. Every child EVER stares because they don't get it. Girls with luscious blonde locks and skin tight clothes with gobs of makeup on their faces look and me like I'm disgusting. Guys don't really look at me at all, unless it's a look of confusion or pity. It's never really the whole "up down" look. That's beside the point I guess. Anyway, it just is refreshing to be treated well every once in a while, rather than stared at. It's nice to have a smile rather than a raised eye brow. I'll always remember the way I've felt from different peoples' looks. It has been teaching me a lot about how sometimes, a move I make can make or break someone's day. Scary, but frighteningly true.<br /><br />Have a warm heart. Love unconditionally, even from afar. Fill yourself with compassion. Smile.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-78941695622263793722009-08-16T18:30:00.002-05:002009-08-16T18:51:05.301-05:00You know people are gonna think you're...These seven words begin many of my conversations. Ones with people I love, and ones with people I've just met. It's funny how concerned others are about what people think of me. I happen to be just fine with what most people think, because it truly doesn't matter. However, to most people it definitely does.<br /><br />I was getting my eyebrows waxed on thursday last week, because really that's the only hair I have on my head and so I should probably keep it decent. A lady named Nancy was the one who chose to take my walk-in appointment. I sit in the chair and lay back onto the porcelain sink...which I think they should invest in making those sinks comfortable but thats a for a different time. Anyway, Nancy didn't wait sixty seconds to ask, "So why you shave your head? You sick or you have a cause?" I expected this question, who wouldn't ask? I explained a little bit, and she thought it was really cool. She said I looked really great without hair, and I'm one in a million who could pull it off. Really generous with the compliments I feel.<br /><br />However, I had no idea what was coming! She suddenly looks down at me, really serious faced, and says, "You know people are gonna think you're a lesbian." Hm. Then she goes on to ask if I have a boyfriend. Which I embarrassingly answer no...as if that helps anything. But I informed her that I liked guys, and that I wore the hat usually so people wouldn't think that. Not that it even matters. And if I was a lesbian? How would that change anything? Even worse, I felt the urge to defend myself, as if I should care. Instead of making the hat wearing comment, I shouldn't have said anything. I could have left it at I don't have a boyfriend and let her debate my orientation herself. I laughed a lot after this event, just because the whole situation was a bit awkward. I just met a woman who told me people probably think I'm a lesbian. Solid.<br /><br />This story also gets me wondering...what if I were actually sick? How would it feel to be bald, not by choice, and have someone tell you that people probably think you're a lesbian? Nice. Maybe she wouldn't have said anything. Who knows...people like to open their big mouths more often than I'd noticed pre-hair loss; pre-hair loss, funny terminology. And then...there's the whole factor of her not knowing if I was or was not a lesbian. I met that woman 5 minutes prior to the question. What if I actually were a lesbian? Then what? That could have been one painful conversation for that cosmotologist. Running your words through your brain before they escape your mouth would probably be a good idea for Nancy, and for people in general.<br /><br />Even getting my eyebrows waxed turned into an exciting afternoon. Never a dull moment.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5690889036695552783.post-18737972119831259952009-08-14T22:26:00.005-05:002009-08-16T18:15:09.293-05:00Facebook NoteThis year has been one of complete blessings for me. I attended the second semester of college at Nebraska Christian College with wonderful professors, students, and classes; I know God has me right where I am supposed to be. I've been completely blown away by the relationships I've built at NCC with students and adults alike. The worship arts professor, my choir director Ron is one of these wonderful people. I've been able to really meet his family and spend time with Ron and Ashley's four hilarious, and at times crazy, children. I love this family deeply; Ron and Ashley have been two wonderful people who I look up to very much.In March this year, their 6 year old daughter Katie was diagnosed with cancer, a Wilm's tumor. After surgeries to remove the tumor and prepare Katie for treatment, she began chemo almost right away it seemed; with chemo the loss of hair is common as many of you know. This summer I was able to go on two NCC choir tours with Ron, and his family was with us for a large part of these 3 weeks. In that time, I really connected with Katie even more than we had before. We were pals, but after hanging out so much we really were like best friends, she felt like a little sister. We talked a lot about her cancer, how she felt about it, and how she felt physically. Sometimes these conversations could get tough. Katie really struggles with feeling beautiful while she has no hair. She continuously asks for reassurance that she is cute, and often states that she feels ugly and terrible and can't understand why anyone can look at her. She feels that everyone is laughing.<br /><br />Beauty is not in your outward appearance. So many people can tell Katie this, but who means it? The majority of people who tell Katie that she is beautiful have perfect hair, and cute clothes, and makeup on, and tanned skin. People always are quick to say that beauty is not on the outside, but it's on the inside...however when do they mean it? I have been one of those people. I like to look good, I like my hair perfectly straight (my friends can attest to that), I like my makeup to cover any blemish I find, I want to have nice legs and tanned skin and painted nails. I know these things don't matter, but I make sure to always check the mirror before I step out the door. Then Katie happened. The outside all of a sudden meant nothing to me. She only sees the outside of herself, but I see both the inside and out. She has no hair and is missing two front teeth and I think she is one stunning young lady. Her dimple is adorable, her eyes pierce your heart, and her funny faces will make my stomach hurt from laughing. More than those things, her heart is amazing and her thoughts are more kind than any other 6 year old I've met. She thinks about others often. Katie is so considerate and is always so thankful if you go out of your way for her, which she never expects. These beautiful qualities on the inside shine through, beyond that absolutely gorgeous bald head.<br /><br />I felt so moved by my friend Katie. I returned from Kentucky at the beginning of July with a huge weight on my heart for her. I didn't know how I could help Katie see that she is full of beauty. I prayed and sat in thought, and I'd talked about shaving my head back in May this year, but I never felt like I was prompted by God. Then, out of nowhere, July 15th I was at dinner with friends and we started talking about shaving my head, and they were all supportive of this idea I had. I decided to research what I could do with my hair if I did shave it all off, and it turned out I could donate my hair for a wig to be made (either to Pantene Pro-V or to Locks of Love, I'm still deciding on which organization). This ability to donate my hair pulled the trigger. I knew this was something I had to do. The next morning I called my hair dresser and made an appointment for that evening, because that was the day for me, July 16th. I just felt like God finally gave me the green light, and that this was a way I could help Katie to see beauty.<br /><br />So here I stand today, with shorter hair than most women, but I still feel beautiful. I know I am beautiful because I am God's, and He made me just the way I am supposed to be. I want to keep my hair short until Katie is done with chemo, it is kind of nice not worrying about my hair anyway :) and she loves to be bald together. My hair will grow back, like Katie's will soon, but that can't make me any more beautiful. We are all beautiful on the inside, that's the only place that matters.<br /><br />Since shaving my hair off, I've seen Katie twice and it has brought up great conversation. Last week we talked about the heart of a person, and how being pretty comes from there. That people are kind of like books. We talked about how there's the saying of not judging a book by it's cover, because books with beautiful covers might not be super exciting books. However the old cover that is torn and has stains, it gets overlooked sometimes, but the story on the inside could be one of excitement, fun, and laughter. People are the same. Sometimes the outside doesn't do justice to what a person holds on the inside. Sometimes even when you don't feel pretty, you still are because the inside doesn't change.<br /><br />Being bald has also been a humbling experience for me. Katie is right, you don't always feel beautiful being bald. I've learned to find my beauty from within, and to get help from God in those moments. It has strengthened me more than I could have imagined. I get frustrated when people call me a "hero" or a girl with such a great heart...why you ask? Because, it's not me. I am just an ordinary girl, a human, being used by an extraordinary God. He makes all things beautiful. He finds beauty in pain, heartbreak, weakness, and in all of the ugly things in life. I've learned so much through Katie's battle, and I am only one of the dozens...hundreds...of people that Katie's story is going to change. God is using Katie to do great things, she just needs encouragement, love and prayer along the way. God will take care of the rest.<br /><br />This blog will be one that will show readers what the world can do to a person. What eyes can say to someone, and how beauty can be so skewed. I plan to fill this blog with experiences I have with other people, how being bald impacts my life, and what other people say about my lack of hair. I think I've learned so much about life, about beauty, and about happiness from this experience.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0