Kudos for me

So, I had a major weekend with my God last weekend. In fact, He is still amazing me today with all that He is showing me in my life. The weekend didn't start out well. I was facing a mini-spiritual battle. I was about to leave on a retreat to learn how to be a small group leader for students when I was doubting my ability to do my job, as a teacher! I was just down and didn't know how I would make it through.

Well, when we got to the camp, I was already in a better mood because of the people. They are always ready to talk and are smiling and just so happy to be there that its contagious! I love being a part of Switch. When we walked into the center for all our meetings, there was butcher paper placed up with sins written at the top then tons of empty space. My heart dropped. I just knew we were going to have write our names under the sins that we had/currently suffered from. Those words just jumped out at me. I was literally going to have to face my sins. Admit them in front of people that I wanted to keep as my friends. People that I don't want to lose because of my past mistakes. I was terrified that my name would jump out of that sheet, point a finger at me, and laugh. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't.

We all gathered around the stage and had amazing worship. I felt completely connected with the group. I wasn't afraid to lift my hand and move my hips with the music. It felt natural. It felt amazing! After a couple of songs, sure enough, we were given the instructions to write our names and names of students or friends that we know that had suffered or currently battling right now. My sins, the actual spelling of them, were looming in front of my face. I thought about them. Thought about how much I have hidden in the past. I realized I had to confess. This would be my first step in changing. Admitting my mistakes to the world so I can be healed and live my life like God wants.


The group broke apart and many were so comfortable in their journeys they could freely write their names under their past. My past wasn't that long ago. One person was able to write her name under addictions and give date of her last cigarette and drink. It was over three years ago. My sin happened two months ago! I tapped the tip of my sharpie against my palm as I slowly walked to my sin. I kept watching these wonderful people write their names, their stories, their students under these words: Eating Disorders, Addictions, Drugs, Low Self-Esteem, Absent Father, Alcohol, Pride....Divorce/Broken Home. They gave me courage and hope to complete this task.

My word was at the farthest end. Other people had already written things under it. This word has defined me for so much of my life, I hated it. What in the world was I going to write under.... Promiscuity? How can I put into the words the shame I feel when I think about how many people I had been with? How do I write the heartbreak that I felt after every time? How do I describe the depression of thinking this is how to get him to love me and then watch him change his mind so fast? How do I write the guilt of this act, and doing it again to get over the last time? I finally was right in front of my spot on the paper. Placing my marker on the paper, I wrote the only thing that was running through my mind, "I kept losing pieces of myself every time I thought I was finding the piece that would make me whole. Mary." Placing the cap back on my marker and taking a step back, I finally let go of what was holding me back from growing in my relationship with God.


People have so many different reasons why girls can be promiscuous. I have been told that its because I came from a broken home and I was searching for love that my dad didn't give me. Umm, no. Yes, my parents are divorced, but me and my sisters were always loved. Some say it's because of peer pressure. I can see this, but sadly, I would say that I was pressured more by girls than by guys. Girls talk just as much as guys do and my best friends from high school had tons of stories. I don't what the reason for it is, I just know that I did it. A lot. And I don't have a reason for it, but I do have a cure and I have stopped this behavior. It may only be two months, but I haven't never felt better about myself.

This is just one snippet of my weekend. But this is the major event that changed not only my life, but how I am now viewing my relationship with God also. He knew that I wasn't ready for a relationship because I wasn't letting go of my past. He knew I would appreciate a good relationship because I wasn't strong enough for one. I am so amazed at the plans He has for my life, so now I am learning how to see him and hear Him in everything I do.

Mad and Heartbroken

My grandpa has been talking about dying for the past four years. He's out-lived siblings, wives, friends, careers, and he keeps saying he's done.
We used to joke about it within the family. "Hey, I talked to Grandpa today." "Oh yeah, how was it?" "Not too bad. He didn't talk about dying for the first ten minutes." *sigh with the optional eye roll*
We all understood where he was coming from. He was tired. He's 89. He's seen segregation, color tv, internet, cell phones, wars, indoor plumbing. He fell in love with a wonderful woman and had to watch her being taken away from him. He raised 9 children and has met multiple great-grandchildren. But, he was in great shape. He's healthy. We couldn't get him to see that.
He moved out to Albequerque with my uncle. He hates it there. My mom has only heard one nice thing he's said about the place. He doesn't want to be here. He told my uncle that God told him he was going to die on Easter. When he didn't, we joked and said he just has to die next Easter. We love him so much. I can't understand why he wants to leave. I see it, but I don't understand it.
Grandpa went to the doctor Monday. He's dying. Quickly. He has prostate cancer that metastasized to his spine, kidneys, and liver. My mom is flying out to be with him. He finally got his wish.

Now, I'm mad. When he goes, I will have only my mom. All the other adults have passed. Both my grandmothers, my dad's dad, my dad. I'm not ready to say good-bye. I'm mad at him for wanting to die so much that it came true. And I'm mad that I didn't take him serious. That it became the family joke. That it is happening at the same time that Dad died. Can God not give me a break? I'm not ready to admit that he is dying. I know he is. I know it's going to be quick. But, I'm mad about it before I can be sad about it.

And then I realized, I'm not through grieving.

My big plans!

I have so many plans for this summer, I can't wait!
I'm so lucky to be able to coach this summer at the country club, and I will also be learning the ropes at the Chesapeake Swim Club. I love it. I'm looking forward to staying in the sun, working with kids and teaching a sport I love. I'm so excited to be working in the northern part of the city. I spend so much time up there already, I should move! But, I love my apartment and I will aslo be coaching on the southside. All that's missing is a convertible for me to throw the top down and buzz around town in. Oooh. That's a pretty sight!
Also, I'm finally getting my act together on this whole should I go back to school or not thing. I was looking over all of my past grades. I had to shake my head. I screwed around so much in college that now I have to practically retake all the courses again in hopes of a better grade. So, I'll be paying for some courses twice. And I'm just aggravated at myself for that. But, I'm not going to let it get me down. I'm moving on.
And, I'm also moving on in my relationship with God. I am having so much trouble putting him first. I get distracted so easily by other things. Wanting to make friends, and starting to become attracted to other boys. It's horrible. So, Saturday I prayed for God to help me. To help me focus on just my relationship with him and to let all others disappear for awhile until we were comfortable with each other to trust me in another relationship. Well, I think He heard me, but I don't know if He believed me. Because the next day, He had two past relationships come back into my life. Phone call and text messages. I ignored both. It was hard and very tempting to call them back, but I didn't. I just let it ring and deleted the messages. Hopefully, it was just a simple test to show God that I am serious. I will put Him first so together we can make me a better person for my #2.

Okay, that's all for now.

Kisses!

I lost my karma.

I bought a necklace two weeks after my dad died last April. It's a Dogeared necklace. It has a silver small circle on a silver ball chain. It's the Karma Power bead. I bought it at The Wooden Nickel in Stillwater the weekend of the Calf-Fry 2008. I love it. It was a symbol of everything I needed to understand at the time. Karma - "What goes around, comes around."

I wear it all the time. It's in all my pictures from the first summer without my dad to the first time I went back to church. It was there when my best friend was baptized and when I dedicated my life to Christ. It has been admired by many friends, students, and babies. It is my nervous tick. When I am thinking heavily about something, nervous, trying to look coy, I reach for my "karma".

I left it twice. Once, at a guy's apartment. Along with many other things. It was the only thing I fought to get back. I called him, asked him about it. Bugged my friend to go get it. And 24 hours later, it was back on my naked neck. The other time, was during the holidays. I left it at my step-mom's house and my sister brought it back to me two days later. Besides those three days, I have always had that necklace.

It rests on my neck, while the significance rests in my heart. It lays on my nightstand while I dream at night. It shines on my vanity while I shower. It is the reason of this blog's title. I joked to my friend the other day about retiring it.

Well, it decided to retire itself. I set it aside at a friend's house over Spring Break and it has disappeared. Trust me, I have looked frantically in every crook and cranny of all of my three bags.

I have lost my "karma".

Is it rude?

Okay, so I e-mailed a lady from OSU about talking to her about pharmacy school two weeks ago. I haven't heard anything back. Would it be terribly rude to call her? Should I be discouraged? I'm trying not to let it get me down, but I can't help it. I had such high hopes and now I feel like her silence is telling me that I'm not going to be good enough for pharmacy school. But that's just silly talk. Right?

What I have to confess

I know the reason behind my fog. I'm almost embarrassed to admit it. It's all my fault.

The reason my fog got so bad was because I thought I was better. Meaning, I was having so many great days in a row, in fact so many great days in just a few months, I thought I could forgo the medications. Turns out, I can't. I think everyone was right. I'm going to be battling with depression for a long time.

When I was first put on the medicine, I felt completely numb to things. Like my emotions were corralled into a part of my soul I wasn't able to reach. But, after a few months I was able to express the correct emotion when it needed. I was laughing more, smiling more, and getting way much better sleep. I confused these things for getting better. No, the medicine is helping me live my life.

I have gotten so much flack for being on antidepressents. And I think it is unfair. I am a complete basket case on my own. My body is out of whack. It's like if you have a kidney disease do you take medicine for it? Yes. If you have a headache, do you take medicine? Yes. Does anyone ever look down their nose and look at you like you failed for taking it? No. But when you are mentally sick and you take medicine for it, people do those things. I would like to switch them places. So they can see the difference one little pill makes me. I'm not sick, you won't catch it, but I can, again, control it. Luckily some doctor out there understood and gave us this amazing drug therapy. I don't think any less of myself for taking help offered for anything. I have been back on the medicine for three days, and WOW! I see differences in everything I do. My attitude in the classroom, my plans for things, my sleeping patterns. Again, I'm living a life instead of it living itself for me.

So, I confess. I'm on antidepressants and they allow me to be the person you know.

New Plan of Attack on Sadness

For the past two days I have been stuck into this huge deep sadness/fog. I don't know what brought it on, but I have a feeling I've been running from it and it finally caught up with me.

These past two months are extremely emotional for me. Just thinking back on what all has happened in the past year. I knew this time was going to be rough so I was really good at keeping busy. Busy enought to not let February 13th bother me. In fact, I was lucky enough to share that horrible day with my besties at the ballet and hanging out. I thought on the 22nd I would be too busy driving to and from Tulsa to keep my mind off what was so important for the day. Well, it didn't work. Being in the car that I had made so many trips to Houston, I was just barely strong enough to not cry so hard that my car was all over the road. But all this running didn't help.

At first the sadness started to seep in when I saw how others in my family dealt with. My step-mom ran away to Michigan, my sister acknowledged the day and said Happy Birthday anyway, my step-sister wrote that she was sad. I just ignored it. At first it felt like I was numb to everything. Then my heart grew heavy, broken in many pieces that just clumped together and added guilt to my soul. I still thought that I could fight it though. I kept perservering to the next task. But, then everything ran out. Exhaustion hit. I felt it grab me by my ankles and start dragging me down. It was so hard to get up in the morning, harder making it through the day, even harder to do anything once I entered my apartment. I just gave into it. I caved. I don't understand how the hollowness I feel inside is so heavy to carry on the outside.

I'm trying to suffer through it. Yesterday I slept for almost twelve hours. I didn't feel any better when I woke up though. I can't sleep through it. So my next tactic is to clean it out. Clean out all the sadness and clutter that is in my life. I'm going to start with my car, move on to my downstairs, my closet, my classroom, and then I'm going to start on the hard clutter. The clutter in my heart and in my life around me. If I'm not getting better by ignoring it, I'm going to try cleaning it. This heartache and sadness might follow me for the rest of my life. Its my responsibilty to confront it and control it.