Resolutions and Husbands and Me and God, But Mostly God.

Like any good hipster, I am not interested in jumping on the New Years Resolution band wagon. I like to think that I am always striving to be better, regardless of the time or year, even when I am clearly doing nothing short of being completely mediocre in all areas of my life. But that to say, I am still human and the reality of a whole new year and the freshness of January first does prompt a sense of motivation I would have surely lost somewhere within the current year.

Nothing says a blank slate like the first page, first square of a calendar. Even those of us who are "realist's" aka pessimists, cannot help but muster even the slightest shred of hope about the impending possibilities waiting to be found in a whole new year.

From where I sit, conversations and social media project a wide range of thoughts about a new year and resolutions. We have people who are vehemently against any sort of resolution particularly in the diet department, coupled with those who have put all their new years eggs in one little diet basket. We have those who starting posting "Oh great, new year new you blahblahblah" memes in the wee hours of December first. There are people who are STOKED to have that fresh start and really do have huge plans and huge intentions to make 2015 THE BEST YEAR EVER and those that fall just somewhere in the middle.
I do think though, that it is safe to say that we ALL feel something about a new year, particularly if the current year left something to be desired.

To be honest with you, I do have some "plans", and I like that word because it feels less daunting than resolution. If I make plans and they get broken, I can always re-make them right away. If I make a resolution and that falls through, it feels so final. Like I have to wait for a whole new year to try again. They are pretty run of the mill:

I DO need to take better care of my body and I have what is essentially a diet in place to kick that off. No, I don't plan on yo-yo dieting all year, but I know that I need something with structure to get me back on the right path, which I have walked so many times on and off in my life. Do I plan on Facebooking every time I drop an inch or pound or find myself drenched in sweat? No. This is my business, for me and my long term health.

I DO need to get off of my damn phone. I really am entertaining the idea of trading my iphone for some Walmart flip thing via '99 so that the options just aren't even there. It is too convenient and there is too much at my fingertips and I am missing portions of my life simply because I am bored and rather than engaging other real humans I am crushing candy or aimlessly scrolling social media. I also seem to live only in black and white so getting rid of the phone would be much more reasonable for me than practicing "moderation", whatever THAT is. This whole phone thing, and not being on it will in and of itself give me more time with my family so basically I have two birds down with one stone in this little gem. 

There are a lot of other things I can and should work on, today, tomorrow, January first and then everyday after, but these are my two "basic" things (insert Starbucks red cup here). However, I didn't actually write this post to tell you my things, it just happened to have worked out that way. I actually wrote to tell you about my one big thing. The thing I hadn't planned on or thought about at all until yesterday morning in a church service. I guess by telling you that other stuff, the stuff we can all identify with, I am hoping that this seems just as grabable. I think I just made that word up but I am going with it. 

grab-ab-el; adjective; able to be grabbed

"The chocolate cake was grabable from my seat on the couch."

Okay so let me paint this picture for you- I may be a little all over the place so just follow as best you can. 

My husband never comes to church. He really truly really dislikes everything about it. Even the VERY few times he has happened to not mind the preacher at whatever place I attend, he still doesn't like it. He is visibly uncomfortable and fidgety most of the time. He stands when they say do so, he bows his head when he is supposed to and then he thanks whatever god- the god of motorcycles and Snap-On tools and cheescake bites- when the whole thing is over and he can just get out the door. The man hates church.

And it isn't just church. He is a complete unbeliever, as in, he only believes in today and in himself and in me and beyond that he has no opinion or desire to form one.

Now, in my 11 years of marriage I have been all over the board in my conversations, feelings and thoughts about and with God concerning all of this. I am sure you can imagine. I range somewhere between "God can do all things" and "God will never do anything" concerning my husband. Even though clearly God has done MANY things in this man (whether he calls it God or not), really is besides the point when I am dealing with the "God will never do anything" moment.

So I say all this to talk about yesterday. My husband comes to church because my family was visiting and we planned on heading out to do some other things after and it would have been completely geographically inconvenient to come back to the house to get him and then back past where the church is to go out. I literally had to work to convince him of this, and then when he fully planned on sitting in the car the whole time, I had to convince him how ridiculous that would make him seem to everyone, until he agreed and bit the bullet. Also, to his credit, he really is very graceful about the whole thing. I don't know that I would be so subdued feeling forced to attend some showing of something that I generally hated every moment of. So we got him a coffee and made fun of the stage set up (because it was a little ridiculous), and instead of standing during all of worship I sat with my arm hooked through his and my head resting on his shoulder.

Now, at some point during the last song he started tapping his foot, an almost subconscious response to music. But it was in this moment that God spoke directly to my heart. You see I had just had a conversation with my mom about Travis, and how I just felt like he may or may not ever find Jesus. Now this very well may be true, but as his wife, who is believing for ALL THINGS, those words simply should not have come out of my mouth. And so as his foot tapped, I had this moment with God, where I was reminded that Travis is vulnerable even if only subconsciously and although he may seem like an impossible, unmovable, unsculpturable rock sometimes- God is God of the whole universe and really can do ANY THING. 

This seems like it is about Travis, but it isn't, it is about me. 

I make God so small. I make boxes, all shapes and sizes and place God in whichever one I think feels appropriate given the day I am having. I don't think mustard seed is even small enough for some of my faith issues a lot of the time. I know God is huge, and I know He made all of these promises and I know the fulfilling of them will usually look so different than what we imagine, but somewhere along the line I think I sort of stopped believing He would fulfill them at all. And I think this comes from a combo of a lack of faith as well as the inability to accept grace. 

He isn't going to fulfill promises because I deserve them, or pray hard enough for them or do enough good things to earn them, He is going to fulfill them simply because I am His kid and He loves me. But I have to trust that. I have to believe that, and in many areas lately, I just haven't.

So I leave you with this:

I DO need to stop putting God in a box. He is GOD, which means He is nothing like me or anyone else I know. Just because I let myself down, and other people let me down does not mean that God will. It isn't about my time, it isn't about the way I think things should go, but it is all about HIS ultimate sovereignty over my life and the fact that no matter what it looks like this side of eternity He is ALWAYS working for my good. 

I DO need to stop conforming to the cultural idea that "realism" is somehow some far shot from "pessimism". Neither of the above fall in line with hope and faith and as icky and troublesome as naivety may be, it is never naive to believe in Gods best for me.

And God does have a best for me. And my motorcylce-Snap On-cheesecake husband. And you too. 

All the best for 2015 friends.

Because Jesus.

I should not be who and where I am today.
It does not make sense that I am not an addict.
It does not make sense that I have had the ability to partner in making my marriage last the past 11 years.
It does not make sense that I have somehow been the kind of mom I feel proud to say I am. 
It does not make sense that I have been able to come of psychiatric drugs.
It does not make sense that I have had the foresight to make good decisions, lasting good decisions, rather than feeding momentary desires and whims.

I see people, mostly "friends" on Facebook, consistently posting about their lives in what someone might call manic patterns. They seem to waver somewhere between riding cloud nine and falling completely apart. The cloud nines are usually when there is another person, generally of the opposite sex, introduced into the picture, or if they are cut slack at work, or on their way to partake in what I will call "adult fun". The fall aparts come when life happens. Money gets tight, cars break down, jobs become insecure. There doesn't ever seem to be middle for these folks and if there is it is so short lived.

And I get it. I get it because the only difference between them and me, is Jesus.

The only reason I am not constantly broken, is Jesus.
The only reason that I don't need to self medicate, is Jesus.
The only reason I can even recognize self medicating for what it is, is Jesus.
The only reason I don't waiver constantly on the edge of depression and the overwhelming weight of how unfair life is, is Jesus.
The only reason I am capable to see past what will make me happy right this moment, and to what will be lasting and worthwhile, is Jesus.

I know for certain some of the people I am talking about would immediately turn their nose up at this. Or better yet, make a joke that excuses any Creator, and certainly any Savior and for all sorts of reasons. They have unexplainable pain in both past and present. They like scienctific theories better than religious ones. There are SO many reasons for a distaste towards God, but I would bet money that one of the biggest ones, probably tied with the whole "If God was real why did He allow this...", is simply that people don't want to believe they are their own problem.

We don't want to admit that we came into this world selfish and need any help to be something else.
We don't want to admit that the choices we make on our own may not be what is actually best for us.
We don't want to submit anything.
We want to be God.

But it doesn't work very well.
It isn't a solid long term plan.

I know this because no matter how awesome and happy and stoked and hoorah these people are, I have seen them at their worst and their worst is so hopeless.

The only reason my worst isn't hopeless, is Jesus.

And don't get it twisted. It isn't because I follow a set of rules. It isn't because I read my Bible everyday, because I don't. It isn't because I go to church on Sundays. It isn't because I am constantly praying myself forgiven of sin.

It is simply because I believe the history that was written about a man called Jesus. Not just because of the documentation, but because I have experienced the absolute love of a God who would do anything to make sure I understood what hope was, and that I had access to it.

I lived unfair in my past and I still live it. I feel the weight of depression and anxiety in a way that is debilitating some days. I think terrible, awful thoughts about all sorts of people and things all the time. I am just like every lost, hurt, angry, broken sinner out there.

However, I see the difference in my life and theirs.

And the only variable is Jesus.

You can laugh and scoff at God and religion all day. But when you see me, and how far I have come and how much I have grown and how blessed I have been- don't you dare contribute it to anything other than that one moment in time when I acknowledged that a Savior was born to two nobody people, in a nobody place.

Why I Cannot Be All About That Bass.

"I'm bringin booty back....go 'head and tell them skinny bitches that."

This is complicated and it is so for a lot of reasons. The first is that the thick girl part of me, the never been less than a size 10, thighs for days part of me really wants to be like, "HELL YEAH!" when I hear this song. I want to say "FINALLY an anthem that sticks it to the skinny girl size 2 propaganda!" Also, this song is SO catchy and cute, which is I suppose why all the little girls in my daughters kindergarten class are singing it and therefor my daughter comes home with some new off version of the chorus every week. While the main reason I wouldn't be jamming out to this in the car with my kids is because there is a little language and I am sort of a stickler about that, I think the message is actually really bad. Dare I say, just as bad as the skinny girl size 2 propaganda we see everywhere all the time as girls and women.

First off, despite its seemingly positive ideas, the song is really contradictory. Lets take a look:

1. "All the right junk in all the right places," which means that junk is important, especially when it's where it is supposed to be.
2. "Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top," which means junk shouldn't matter at all.
3."My mom always told me don't worry about your size, boys want a little more booty to hold at night," back to junk matters.
4."I won't be no silicone stick figure Barbie doll", indicating that there is in fact something wrong with being super thin.

Clearly the message is all over the board. You are perfect, but I'm bringing booty back and boys like it, so if you don't have it perhaps scratch the perfect part. The video depicts one "not about the bass" female seen here:

She is a thin, attractive female. She is wearing what looks to be a plastic dress which I imagine is meant to indicate that she is plastic or fake. This sends the message that thin somehow equals fake, which is a negative message. The reason I don't think this is any better than a Victoria's Secret billboard or music video with half naked writhing women is because:

1. WE ARE STILL TOTALLY OBJECTIFYING WOMEN. We are not singing about intelligence or ability or heart, we are STILL SINGING ABOUT BOOTY. Does it matter if it's big or small? Did we need ANOTHER song about the body type of women EVER? Making another song about body image or type is just reiterating that the body of a woman, whatever it is, is important and meant to be noticed.

2. IT IS NOT IMPORTANT. YOUR BODY WAS MADE TO MOVE AND LOVE AND BE LOVED AND ENJOY LIFE REGARDLESS OF JUNK IN YOUR TRUNK OR ABS OR SMALL BOOBS OR FAKE BOOBS OR THIGHS THAT RUB TOGETHER OR THIGHS THAT HAVE GAPS. YOUR BODY WAS NOT MADE TO BE GAWKED AT AND JUDGED BY YOURSELF OR ANYONE ELSE. (Read that again).

3. What about the little girls, or grown ones, who are built small? Who are naturally thin with no junk anywhere? What are they supposed to feel about themselves according to this?

You may think I am digging or overreacting and you might love this song because it feels "empowering". You may find it harmless and scream the chorus out the car windows with your kids and all of that is fine. But all these "harmless" ideas add up. This song, plus the fact that every female cartoon character is built like a brick house with DD's, plus walking past the ads in mall windows, plus >insert every day life experience for a young girl here< and it isn't harmless anymore.

I have to tell my daughter to change CARTOONS on Netflix because the girls are drawn so ridiculously and all the same and I don't for a moment want her mind to even PASS OVER the thought that women are supposed to look like that. I refuse to turn on anything other than certain Pandora stations in the car because I can't be okay with my kids hearing the content of pop music. I work TIRELESSLY to not talk about my weight or how frustrated I am with my face in front of my kids because I don't want them to think ANY OF IT MATTERS. I am not perfect- I miss the mark all the time but WE HAVE TO TRY. Open your eyes. You have been fooled and you probably know it if you are reading this but your kids don't and when they hear a happy, upbeat, poppy sounding song they will learn it, and sing it and be absorbing every bit of it because that's what kids do.  

We are wasting brain space with this garbage.

That is all.

Disneyland is Magic.

A month ago, if I had seen a blog post with this title I would have not only disregarded reading it, but also judged the writer as someone who is most likely ridiculous and in need of some "real life". I am unashamed about this truth, for you see I was of the opinion that Disneyland is nothing more than a people/money trap, set by a mouse. It was a place you went to spend way too much money from the time you bought your ticket to the last churro and bottle of water purchased waiting for fireworks. Everything in between was just lines and waiting and sweaty strangers with screaming spoiled children and a few mediocre rides thrown in.

I was wrong.

I'll say it again.

I was wrong.

I wasn't totally wrong, it costs a lot of money to do Disneyland right, and there are a lot of sweaty strangers with chocolate candy faced children touching every railing, wall and prop in sight. Not the place to be if you are particularly concerned with the spread of Ebola and other deadly viruses. Actually, I witnessed a small child of about 3 projectile vomit into the bushes while in line for Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, and his mother simply wiped him off with a wet nap and went on about the line. I was outraged and made my children triple hand sanitize after our turn but lacked the oomph to actually say anything to either of the matching Mickey shirt wearing parents...but that is niether here nor there.

What I assumed when people, grown ass adult men and women, tried to tell me how magical Disneyland was, was that there was something wrong with them. What life living, routine driving adult could possibly sit with a straight face and talk to me about the "magic" of an overpriced theme park? These people need to grow up. That is what I thought. If you are reading this and you just happen to be a person who shared unashamed with me the joy Disney brought you, I thought you needed a dose of reality. Sorry, but it's true.

You see I am an uptight individual. "NO!" you say, "Not you with all your tattoos and awesome funky wardrobe- you must certainly be spontaneous, wild and free with the heart of a small child!" While I understand your appreciation of my clothing choices, this is simply not true. I suppose I had good moments when  I was a little girl. There are pictures of a Christmas when I had to take a nap in between all my presents, and smiling hanging upside down on the monkey bars etc. I had the best moments I could have considering a lot that was going on in the background of my life (which wasn't really the background at all) as a kid. I don't want to get into all of that here, I just need you to understand that I don't have an inner child and I would bet it has something to do with a less than gratifying childhood. I always wanted to grow up so when I finally did, there was no little person joy left. It sounds sad I suppose, but it is what it is. This all to say, I knew it was impossible for me to feel like a kid.

Also important to note, I have anxiety. I do not do well with "thrills" and generally I seek to stay as far away from them as humanly possible because my thought life creates enough "thrill" in my brain to never need a ride to do so for me EVER. I don't like being out of control or unsure of what will happen next, so roller coasters and what not are simply not my bag. Hadn't been on any sort of ride in a really really long time and was sure that doing so would induce sheer panic and warrant use of meds, which I really avoid at all costs.

"OKAY ISSUES HAVER, GET ON WITH IT!" you say.

So day one, my family and I arrive at California Adventure at approximately 8am because my kids were up and ready to go at 5am and what in the world were we gonna do sitting around in a hotel room? Lucky for us, they just so happened to be handing out early entry passes so we hopped on in to an empty park and headed straight to Tower of Terror. I know- really great first choice for the panic queen right? It was awful. It's dark and you don't know if you are going up or down until the doors open and you're 13 stories up and then you fall and up and down like that for what feels like ages. But I did it. And I laughed when it was over and we went back later and did it again. It was just as terrible the second time but I still did it. Secondly, we headed over to the Radiator Springs Racers. I don't even like the Cars movie, but I pretty much thought it was the coolest thing to happen to my life ever. It was like for a moment I lived in Radiator Springs and we got to race the car beside us and all I could think was how great it was to feel lost in something.

The next few days at Disneyland mimicked this. I rode Space Mountain and spent the entire time in prayer, but rode it again later and had a blast. I got ridiculously excited about all the old school animatronic rides where Pinocchio and Alice and the Little Mermaid were brought to life. I met Jack the Pumpkin King and really thought for a moment he was not a fictional character. I saw a live performance of Aladdin that made me laugh so hard I cried. I watched my life flash before my eyes on Mickey's Ferris Wheel of Death (not the real name) where my husband kept his face in a provided barf bag and my kids and I sat as still as possible while our gondola swung in a way that felt completely unnatural. I paid $25 for my daughter to get her face painted and $150 for chicken nuggets with princesses. I helped my kids trade pins with staff members and watched them light up at every turn.

I felt like a kid. I figured out, in those 3 days, how to stop being so damn serious about everything and just pretend. Granted, I had some highly anxious moments when it was too loud or too crowded and I did have to take some breathers, but mostly it was utter magic.

Take away:

1. I am not to old or too uptight to get lost in childish nonsense.
2. Childish nonsense is good for the soul.
3. I can ride scary things that I have no control over in the dark and not die or have a panic attack.
4. Sometimes somethings are worth every single penny you spend.
5. Aladdin is the greatest Disney movie of all time and needs its own animatronic black light responsive ride.
6. Between God and Walt, all things are possible.

She.

She is gray matter
Epicenter of thought and being
She is less than a foot
From your heart
But She is miles and miles
Away

She is an open bar
Cigarette smoke in the air
And the slow burn of whiskey
In Her throat

She is a wandering eye
Throwing pearls to pigs
Writhing in sweat soaked sheets
Happily resigned

She is a monstrous beast
Slack jawed mouth full of teeth
Row after row
Saliva wetting everything
With the fever of fear

She is a silent tsunami
Growing growing
And falling upon you
Only to drown you
In the darkest corner of Herself

She is vicious
Jealous for time and attention
She asks for moments
And steals days
She takes days
And makes them years

Who you are
Is not who She is
She is dangerous
A wild self serving beast

But even so
She is not without hope
She, meet He

And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.

Romans 12:2

Mid Life Crisis and the Trouble with Nostalgia

 A few days ago I wrote this:

"If time was to be traveled, I would walk fiercely, head down, heavy footed for a marathon of miles and more. Blistered and bleeding I would trudge through both muck and mire patiently, steady and with purpose. I would carry with me no intention of changing the future but only the desire to live again as someone untied, loosed from the responsibility of adulthood. I would embrace every whimsey, dance the night away with the wild nonsenses and play dot-to-dot with stars. I could have you by my side, or her or him or no one at all but the strings of life would have been momentarily cut leaving me suspended with nothing but myself and silence until I say otherwise. I would battle the monsters instead of succumbing to them. I would see them honestly, as they stood, ready for battle but weak and already defeated. I would not resign to the imprisonment of the giant sadness or the constant picking and whispering voice of the enormous fear. I would see the unforgiving fault in needing to be needed and step back in order to wait for a want that presents itself with patience and respect. And should that never come, I would simply spend more nights with whimsey and the wild nonsenses.

I would understand that on my own, just these two feet and the matter between my ears and the painted beautiful mess of my soul, I am worthy."

While I think it is in good heart (and obviously brilliant), when I wrote it I was feeling almost blinded by nostalgia. I think I have mini mid life crisis' approximately every six months and although that statement in and of itself is funny, this is no laughing matter. It is not literally funny, because it means that I am feeling bound up and trapped, looking for something to loose me. It means that the moment, the day that I am in isn't enough, and that is serious business because the day is all that any of us have.

When I get this way, I become not only nostalgic, but dreamy and fantastical. I give my imagination WAY to much mileage and simply sit back to enjoy the ride. Again, the problem here is not imagination or fantastical thoughts, but that all those moments spent lost in what will never be reality are moments of real life that I will never get back. I disengage. And not only that but I get mad at my kids or my husband for needing me because I just want to be somewhere else.

I hate admitting that.

I've been in this particular mid life crisis for about a week, maybe 2 if I'm really being honest, and wouldn't you know that God came a knocking today in the form of my dad, who had just "happened" to be listening to the radio and there just "happened" to be a guy talking about marriage and relationships and life and capturing the feeling of newness even when what you have is old and how important it is to work for that. (Ugh, work).

So then he says to me, (my dad), something along the lines of, "We get all ooey gooey when we are nostalgic because nostalgia does that. It has a way of tricking us into remembering things the way we wanted them to be."

MAN he is so RIGHT. I already knew that but I needed to hear it today.  I needed to hear it because I need to be PRESENT. And it is simply impossible for one to be present when one is living inside a song or movie or memory or dream. (More specifically something by Dave Matthews, Pretty in Pink, being 19, a well lit studio apartment with tons of windows and a claw-foot tub- adults ONLY.)

I don't know where I meant to go with this, but I hope someone takes something from it, because I needed to get it out of me. Off to go live my real life now. Which is full of ABUNDANT BLESSINGS by the way. I mean really, who do I think I am? 

In Quietness and Trust.

I have been a lot of things in my life. I have been amazing things, mediocre things, things that I abhor. What I have never been, is quiet. I have never been someone regarded as meek be it in attitude, presence or spirit. I have always been outspoken, sometimes when I had no business being so.

Perhaps I was not this way as a child, I honestly don't remember, but life and circumstance have a way of creating in you the person you become, rather than the other way around. None of us just "are"- we are made into ourselves, (which is precisely why it is so maddening when people use "just the way they are" as an excuse not to change).

Somewhere along the line I must have felt very unheard, and it makes sense if you know anything about my life. I took this need to be heard and made it into something very tangible. I wore weird clothes and styled my hair differently and eventually became pierced and tattooed because if I couldn't be heard I would at least be seen. I think I was able to recognize this honestly about 7 years ago, by which time I had aquired enough tattoo's to cover a large portion of my body. If the seeing wasn't enough, I was also doing. I was obnoxious and sailor mouthed and promiscuous. Someone was going to know I was there be it for me or against me.

And then I re-found Jesus and I mellowed out a lot. A LOT. But I remained outspoken, ready to spill my guts and my secrets and my damage to anyone who was willing to listen. There is power in authenticity, but being real doesn't mean leaking all your hurts into the laps of people who have no idea what to do with them. Presentation and timing are key- a difficult lesson I learned along the way (not near quickly enough).

SO here I am, and there is a nagging lately. I have felt it before but not so strong as this. It is a pulling of unfinished business between me and God.

It is the business of silence.

I have made great strides in understanding and slowly changing my need to be seen and heard. But I have never learned how to just be quiet. The skill of saying nothing even when I have valid things to say. The strength that comes with silence.

I have been told many times, by many people that what I have said has moved them, shook them, made them feel something. I know I have a voice and not because I am begging for one but because God gave me one before I ever knew it was there. I know there is something to be said for expressing yourself and that this is of mighty importance especially when expressing you is also expressing the love of God.

However,

It is time for me to be quiet. It is time to listen rather than speak. I know God will prompt me to say things, but I want it to be  FULLY Him. It is time to put the last piece of the puzzle in this area of my life. I am confident its presence will create a picture of self assurance in Him alone.

"A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back."

Proverbs 29:11

 "Do not let your adorning be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear— but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious."

1 Peter 3:3-4

"....in quietness and in trust shall be your strength..."

Isaiah 30:15

Why I Didn't Vaccinate.

I didn't want to write this. I didn't want to write it because I am tired of defending myself. However, due to recent measles outbreaks and the SURE following of media scare tactics, this subject is consistently on my Facebook feed and peoples misinformation and lack of information has me ready to poke my own eyes out. SO, for those of you who are so inclined, below you will read why it is, that an intelligent, loving and thoughtful mother and person, has chosen not to vaccinate her kids.

I have to start at the beginning, which is with my first son. I had him at 21 and had very little information about vaccines other than the baby comes out and off they go for shots. That and the dreaded trips to the doctor every few months for shots, when I knew my generally calm baby would be miserable, probably feverish and crying for the entire day. But- it's what the doctors told me I had to do and more than that they presented it to me as LAW. So my son received all the vaccinations "required" until I became pregnant with my daughter when he was 4.

By my second pregnancy, not only was I older and more concerned with information, but it was about the time the anti-vaccine movement was in full swing, at the time mostly as a concern about autism. There was media coverage and it seemed questionable enough to look into. So I did look into it, and what I found was concerning to say the least.

Before I get into my personal understandings/feelings/beliefs about vaccines in and of themselves, I have to preface with something that I consider to be a fact. FACT: this issue is less about vaccines and more about faith, or lack there of, in the medical community. That said, we can argue all day about science and medicine, and if you are the sort of person who believes that either of those businesses have your best interest at heart, we will never agree. It is because of my general distrust of the medical community that I chose not to vaccinate my kids, the same reasons I keep both them and myself as far away from any pharmaceutical, (prescription or otherwise) as possible.

First of all you HAVE to understand that vaccines make money- BIG MONEY. Big Pharma is a BIG DEAL, and the medicines being manufactured and sold are not in order that you might live healthier and longer, but that the pockets of the pharmaceutical industry may get bigger.
"The global pharmaceuticals market is worth US$300 billion a year, a figure expected to rise to US$400 billion within three years. The 10 largest drugs companies control over one-third of this market, several with sales of more than US$10 billion a year and profit margins of about 30%. Six are based in the United States and four in Europe. It is predicted that North and South America, Europe and Japan will continue to account for a full 85% of the global pharmaceuticals market well into the 21st century. Companies currently spend one-third of all sales revenue on marketing their products - roughly twice what they spend on research and development." -World Health Organization  (That last sentence should really frighten you and honestly be almost enough to make you never take/inject anything ever again.)

Secondly, vaccines were initially needed in a time when clean drinking water and sanitary environments barely even existed. We are talking the 1500-1700's. If you engage yourself in a little history project, you will find that the living conditions of people during this time period were horrifying. There had yet to be invented anything resembling a modern toilet, and in a lot of cases cities didn't even have sewage systems. There was no "Waste Management" truck and because of the unavoidable piles of garbage everywhere, rats and bugs were inescapable. Not to mention the overall lack of bathing. Call me crazy, but OF COURSE disease became RAMPANT. Not only that, but the medical community had no treatment for diseases and so what seemed and was at the time most necessary was prevention of said illness. Enter in the creation of the vaccine- Edward Jenner, smallpox, 1790.
Consider this: we now live in a world, in a country, where at every grocery store as you enter with your cart you will find a little tub of sanitary wipes. Everything is antibacterial. We don't even drink from our taps, we buy prepackaged water with pictures of waterfalls on the label so we can tell ourselves it's "clean". We poop in toilets, flush them and never see whatever came out of us again. Is it possible then, that perhaps even more than vaccinations, our sanitation developments have been what has done us the greatest justice in the prevention of contagious disease? Food for thought. (Also, it is worth mentioning that our obsession with sanitation is actually hurting us.)

Third, because I would argue that our progress in sanitation has been a much greater contributor to our not dying of measles or whooping cough, I would also argue that these viruses are much less likely to occur for the same reasons, and if they do, they are treatable. Would having the measles or whooping cough suck? Yes (both my daughter and I had whooping cough last year). Could it kill a baby or old person? Sure. Could any number of things kill a baby or old person, many of which we don't vaccinate for? Yes. But a generally healthy person will live through the measles, whooping cough, mumps, flu, etc. Which leads me to this: if you are scared about the health of your child, you should be doing a lot more than vaccinating them. (Obviously I believe vaccines are dangerous, which I will get to in a minute, but follow me here). You vaccinate to prevent scary viruses, but what are you FEEDING your kids??? How much processed chicken nuggets, cheese burgers, sugar and soda are they ingesting? Do you pay attention to ingredients and origins of their food, because in the long term THIS is a whole lot more terrifying than a week of the measles. Are you even attempting to buy whole or organic foods when you can? I have to stay here for a minute because it is so obvious to me. Do you know what the number one killer of Americans is? Heart disease- followed closely by cancer (taken from CDC). Heart disease is caused by unhealthy diet and lack of exercise. Good habits start in childhood, so if you are lazy or uncaring as to what your child is eating or how often they get off the couch DON'T YOU DARE talk to me about how I am putting my children, or yours, in danger by not vaccinating. Have you ever taken the time to think about cancer and why it seems as though everyone around you is being diagnosed with it? Have you thought that perhaps there is a tie between the malformation of our cells and what we breath, eat, and rub in our skin (or all those seemingly "helpful" meds we take for XYZ)? I am saying all of this to get across that vaccines in the way of "taking care" of your child are not one sided and the overall health of your children is LONG TERM not just what you can do in a Dr's office to try and assure they make it through childhood. Also, back to my point, if your child does contract one of the viruses generally vaccinated for and has a healthy immune system, they will survive, without long term damage.

Fourth, and this is sort of tied to the above, and the OVERALL LIFETIME health of your kids- do you know what is in vaccines? If you don't PLEASE click HERE (straight from the CDC), and inform yourself. If you are somehow too lazy for that, let me help you by naming off a few things that are highly recognizable:

Aluminum, MSG, Thirmesol (mercury) and formaldehyde. 

Aluminum is a huge problem, stretching far beyond vaccines. You can learn about it and how it is related to cancer and Alzheimer's HERE. MSG is also a much larger problem than vaccines alone. You can learn about MSG and its ties to brain damage (particularly in children) and nervous disorders HERE. To learn more about formaldehyde head over HERE. Keep in mind, these are JUST FOUR of the toxic ingredients used as additives in your children's vaccines. Sadly, very few studies have been done to really address these additives and their direct correlation with the long term health of your child. I would venture to assume it is because again, vaccines are big money and we don't want to stifle big money. However there are many many stories, (most of which are undocumented by the media) about children who have had horrifying adverse reactions as well as death as a direct result of vaccines. For some of those stories, click here or here.

Honestly, the ingredient list was the selling point for me. I don't need studies to prove that injecting toxic chemicals into my child is a bad idea. Even if they have no initial reaction, there is NOTHING to prove to me it won't affect them long term. Furthermore, with little to no answers as to the rise of things like Autism, ADD/ADHD, cancer and the like, you cannot tell me there is no relation. 

One more time, before I go, and I hope if nothing else this has at least allowed for a minimal understanding of parents like me, I have to restate that this whole argument is about the trust we as individuals are able to place in the medical community. I don't trust them. I don't trust their quick visits and immediate responses. I don't trust their drugs and the money being made having them sold to me. This distrust does not make me stupid or crazy and the media with their propaganda and fear mongering does not move me. If you haven't noticed, the government as a whole cares very little about you or whatever infectious disease you may contract. Should you be on the opposite side of this belief, as a person who stands on the hope that medicine really is made to heal, or at the very least help, we will never see eye to eye. Just please, do yourself a favor and don't decide to be a sheep before you interrogate the shit out of your shepherd.

PS. I feel as though I am leaving this all to soon, because it is so much more complicated than even what I have presented here, and for that I am sorry. I will leave you with this: find some non bias info about the actual illnesses you are vaccinating against, environment they originated in, how rare they are today, (not because we have vaccines but because we don't accidentally touch poop and rats all the time and have clean water), and what the actual effects of the illness are IF they were to be contracted and try and look at it from a place that isn't viral-apocalyptic-fear based. More than that, isn't bias in terms of all you've ever heard from every Dr for your whole life.

PSS. This is all just my opinion ya'll.

What Are We Doing If Not This?

"Don't apologize for yourself. You're awesome." I said to a woman God brought into my life, and whom I had the pleasure of spending some time with tonight.

About an hour prior to my saying this, she had commented how even at church she could find herself feeling alone but surrounded by people. I felt this sentiment so deeply because I feel it all over the place, all the time. I have come to learn, and more importantly accept, that I am not the sort of person who can say "Hello" and give a high five to a handful of people on Sunday and feel like I am living in community. For a long time I wondered what was wrong with me, and why I needed to be engaged, or deeply involved with people. Why am I so uninterested in surface conversations, and acquaintances when other people seem to be perfectly fine? Why do I feel so NEEDY? Not needy like high maintenance, but needy like I want so much more from people conversationally than "It's real hot out, my bathroom is being renovated, okay bye."

I have found that the answer is not only just that I am wired that way, but that most people are wired that way, it only seems like they aren't because a lot of the time they are getting what they need from someone other than me. This is good. We can't all be BFF's and I understand that. I really don't expect everyone to love me, or understand me, or want to know me. BUT, what community really means, particularly in the church, has really weighed on me lately because I think we are missing it a lot of the time- myself as a perpetrator included.

My pastor recently spent a lot of time in Acts, reading and re-reading what the first church had to say about community and it goes like this (Ch 2):

⁴² The believers spent their time listening to the teaching of the apostles. They shared everything with each other. They ate together and prayed together. ⁴³ Many wonders and miraculous signs were happening through the apostles, and everyone felt great respect for God. ⁴⁴ All the believers stayed together and shared everything. ⁴⁵ They sold their land and the things they owned. Then they divided the money and gave it to those who needed it. ⁴⁶ The believers shared a common purpose, and every day they spent much of their time together in the Temple area. They also ate together in their homes. They were happy to share their food and ate with joyful hearts. ⁴⁷ The believers praised God and were respected by all the people. More and more people were being saved every day, and the Lord was adding them to their group.

My mental image of this is of some hippie commune full of barefooted men with beards and dirty hands and their wives in bohemian printed wrap skirts living off the land and making barefooted dirty faced babies all the while worshiping together both during meals and at night around a fire while one of the bearded men plays the guitar marvelously. These people all smell like patchouli and are endlessly happy in relationship with God and each other. 

I imagine this idea makes some of you want to run. We have our own lives, our own families, jobs and schedules. Combine that with the fact that generally in our culture nuclear family (mom/dad/babies) is considered top priority. Only it doesn't say that here. It doesn't say each family ate together alone all week and met with other believers on Sunday and gave each other high fives. It doesn't say each family made sure to manage their time in a way that kept them apart from others because what is nuclear in nature is more important than the whole. It doesn't say they set specific times in order to be with each other for about an hour during the week. It says exactly opposite those things. It says they shared EVERYTHING and ate in each others HOMES on the regular. They even sold what they had to help those who had not- with no expectation of reciprocation. 

There is no ME, MY FAMILY, MY TIME in this scripture. It goes SO against what we consider normal and acceptable- even in a Christian community. It is easy for us to say, "Yeah they did that but the culture is just so different now, and life is so much busier and blah blah blah..." And it is and thats fine, but is that REALLY why we aren't living wholly in community? OR is it because.....

We would rather not bear the weight of personalities and issues that aren't like ours? 

People are freaking HARD and they aren't all like us. We have all had that weird guy/girl come into our lives that we couldn't understand or didn't like and felt awkward around and could only be relieved when he/she walked away. It is HARD to bear people who you don't understand. But scripture also calls believers "brothers and sisters" over and over and over again. It tells us that every other believer in Christ is now a sibling. But we don't live that way. We may bear the weight of a weird blood sister, but we generally avoid doing that for a brother/sister in Christ and I hate it for us. I hate it for them and I hate it for me because to someone, I am "that guy". 

I get that we are all busy and life in your own house feels like drowning sometimes, but something is missing. How often do you have brothers and sisters (even the weird ones) over for dinner, just because? It isn't difficult to break bread. How often do you seek out your "that guy" to try and better understand and bring whatever it is God has called you to bring into his/her life? How often do you ask someone how they are and REALLY want to know, listening even if it "cuts into your schedule"? What are we really doing here if we aren't doing those things? 

I've spent the last 2.5 years without community and it has taken a huge toll on me. I suppose that is why all of this feels so pertinent. I am sure those of you with plenty of friends and time with them won't resonate so much here, and that is okay. I am preaching to myself here too, I don't seek out the weird guy often enough either.

There are a lot of places where it seems normal for people to feel alone surrounded by people, but church should never be one of them. Ever.

I Want It To Be You, But It's Me.

I have to begin here with blatant honesty. There are a few reasons I don't like to write, blog or even talk about difficulties in my marriage:

1. I have a TON to be grateful for in said area. We are really blessed to be here almost 11 years later and I don't for one minute want anyone to think I am missing that.

2. My husband and I are very different, and I don't want anyone to think that my awareness and sometimes difficulty with this is greater than my ability to recognize where we fill in each others gaps in a good way.

3. I don't want anyone to think badly of either of us.

I am generally soft spoken, my husband is really loud. I am serious and stoic, my husband is a walking caricature. I am a square, my husband is a sailor. I want to save the world, my husband wants to enjoy the world. I eat carefully, my husband also functions as a garbage disposal. I worry about everything, my husband doesn't worry about anything. Most importantly though, I am a Jesus follower, my husband is not.

Quick background- I certainly wasn't living as a Jesus follower when we met, so it may seem to some that I tricked my poor husband into thinking I was the sort of girl he would want to marry and then quickly proved otherwise. There are times I am sure he feels this way, and I don't blame him. To be fair though, we hadn't known each other long enough to have any real proof that we were the sort that should be marrying each other at all, but we were young, I was pregnant and infatuation looked like love, so we did.

God has carried us (and still does) through a great deal of trial and error. I mean, HUGE errors including but not limited to mental illnesses, infidelity, substance abuse, anger issues and geographical separation. We have both grown and changed, learning to bend to prevent a break. The man I lay next to at night is not the same man whose hands I held in that Pensacola courthouse at 20 years old. God has been good to us.

And now the however.

However, life has changed my husband, but Jesus has changed me. In case you don't quite understand that: Life changes through lessons, (God too sometimes), but my love of God and desire to be like Jesus changed me despite life. My desires and outlook on pretty much everything reflect what is considered an upside kingdom compared to the world we live in. The Jesus in me has freed me up to:

Love without being loved back.
Give without receiving.
Trust in the intangible and unseeable.
Forgive without having been offered an apology, under THE MOST unforgivable circumstances.
Find contentment in being last.
Many more nonsensical gestures....

Not that I have nailed all these things, I totally haven't, but they are my hearts desire and they are so because of who I understand Jesus to be. These traits and beliefs and my faith in the God of the Bible FULLY shape who I am and because my husband does not share these beliefs, it makes it hard to meet in the middle sometimes. Okay, it makes it impossible to meet in the middle sometimes.

In the beginning I spent a lot of time trying to make my husband see what I see. Believe what I believe. Change the way I have changed. I drug him to church on holidays praying that something would move him, shake him, break him, spark a fraction of interest even. I learned quickly (probably not quickly enough) that I couldn't make church his thing, nor could I force him to see truth as I see it. So I let it go, mostly (I'm only human).

Here's what I am trying to get at:

In most marriages there are certain issues that just ARE. They are like thorns in sides meant to remind us all we are breakable and humility and trust have to be bigger than we are sometimes. They seem never ending, forever and irremovable if not by miracle. Without selflessness on someones behalf, these thorns will destroy our marriages and our families.

We all want to be loved like we love, give like we give, think like we think and when those desires aren't met we are hurt, frustrated and sometimes angry. We want to be understood and when we aren't it can be maddening.

Because my husband shares totally different values and beliefs than me, he cannot love like I love, he can only love like he loves. This is not a fault, it is just reality. He can only give and think the way that he thinks, because he only has his own life experiences to go by. He has a totally different set of tools to work with than I do and that isn't something I can hold against him.

Enter stage left, God.

It isn't my job to change or fix my husband, it's Gods- but MORE IMPORTANTLY (MOST IMPORTANTLY) God wants to change ME. He wants me to have the patience and love and joy and kindness and gentleness I need to love my husband just where he is at because HE (God) gave it to me. He wants to love me in ways no human, Bible believing or not, ever could because we are only human. He wants to fill in every gap, every space where I am lacking so that the GLORY of it all can ONLY BE HIS.

I started this talking about my husband, and our vast differences because it something I struggle with sometimes daily. But this isn't about my husband at all. It is about me. It is about how much I am trusting God to fill my gaps and show me love the way only HE knows I need it. It is my ability to trust that will grow me, which will allow me to show MORE love to my husband no matter where he is or what he is doing that I like or don't like, and that will in turn only serve to show him more and more of who Jesus really is and why He's worth thinking about.

I wrote this because we all have someone (beliefs aside) in our lives that we wish would just "get it", whatever "it" is for you. I wrote this to encourage you to be humble enough to let God work in you in order to remove "getting it" from the table. I wrote this because I need to wake up and read it every morning and every afternoon, not just to strengthen my marriage but every other relationship in my life.

I wrote this because life isn't about you, but by letting God work in you (instead of always pleading He work on everyone else), He will work through you, and that can change everything, life and world included.

Tired

Sometimes I am wide
In my face
In my hips

And

Sometimes I take up
Space
Too much space

And

I fall back to Egypt
In my thoughts
In my reflection
In my beliefs
About who I am

And

All that work
All those prophesy's
And plagues
That got me out
Of Egypt to begin with
They are for nothing

And

I am tired

My Name Is Brooks And I Am Broken.

My name is Brooks and I am broken.

I am choosing not to say "...and I have a mental illness", because I am not sure I believe in that anymore. I don't believe that my mind has a disease that can be likened to diabetes or asthma, and that if I just take the proper medications I will be comfortable and "fixed". I don't believe my brain is producing improper amounts of serotonin or dopamine which in turn causes me to feel sad or anxious when there is nothing outside of myself that would be indicative of having those feelings. I don't believe these things because not only have I lived it all, but I also have too much information. Before you click the X in the top right corner of the screen and discredit me, let me share briefly some information concerning antidepressants and the pharmaceutical industry. If you don't want to read more after that, fine, but PLEASE read this:

1. FIRST and MOST IMPORTANTLY, there is little to no science behind our understanding of mental illness. There is no test that can be performed to gauge chemical levels in the brain, thus the fact that something is even actually wrong in the brain is a THEORY. It is the psychiatric worlds BEST GUESS as to why people experience depression, anxiety, schizophrenia and the like.

2. The DSMV- which is the mental health guide book (psychiatric bible) to diagnosing mental illnesses, was originally written by a handful of psychiatrist's sitting in an office hashing out what constitutes a particular diagnosis and then what to name it, based on their client pool. These were not even doctors from all over the world, but literally a group of friendly professionals hired by the government to create a guidebook for treating what was then only known as "insanity", (originally including homosexuality). It has since been altered and added to enormously- in the same fashion as it got its beginnings. It is also important to note that since the book was originally released in the 1940's, it has nearly tripled in size, which means hundreds of new illnesses have been added, as well as some being taken away. I don't know about you, but I think it is slightly alarming that homosexuality was considered and TREATED as a mental disturbance until 1986. NINETEEN EIGHT SIX.

3. Antidepressants sport the strongest "black box" label that exists per the FDA. This label warns that said medication may produce suicidal thoughts and actions in children under 18. Just when you thought you were TREATING the problem, the prescribed medication warns you that said drug has the potential to have the EXACT opposite effect on yourself or your child. AND it isn't just kids- a study in 2005 reported that people on SSRI's (most common form of antidepressants) were 7 times more likely to commit suicide than those who were given sugar pills. HERE IS YOUR SIGN. The drugs you are taking for your brokenness have been known to induce brokenness at its most extreme state.

4. Unlike drugs prescribed to cure disease or prevent further decline in health, because we don't actually know what the "medical" cause of mental illness is, these drugs can only be designed to mask symptoms, MUCH LIKE marijuana, alcohol and any other illicit substance. If you don't have a basic understanding of how antidepressant work as far as what is actually occurring in your brain, click here. Please remember though, that these meds are made to treat what we THINK might be happening in the brain to cause depression and the like. By taking an antidepressant you are adding synthetic chemicals to your brain which may or may not be missing in the first place. Most likely not missing which you will see when I move on to side and long term affects of their use. Basically, these drugs might level you out. They might make you feel less of whatever bad thing you are feeling, but they will NOT make you happy, they will not induce joy and have the ability to actually worsen the problem significantly.

5. ALERT: Click here to get a little tiny, baby, itty bitty snippet of the truth about placebos and their beating out most antidepressants in clinical studies. This is a HUGE issue, particularly because so many of these studies have been hidden and discarded by pharmaceutical companies in order to manufacture, sell and make big money on psychiatric meds. The truth is that FAR TOO OFTEN placebos have equal if not better both short and long term affects on people with depression. Sugar pills. Sugar pills.

6. The side and long term effects of these medications is a list so long I cannot even begin to type it here. There are COUNTLESS stories of people whose lives have been absolutely destroyed by antidepressants. Not only that many people have lost loved ones as their attempt to feel better by taking these meds actually lead to suicide. I have suffered through SEVERE withdrawal symptoms every time I attempted to come off of these medications, even under the watchful eye of a psychiatrist.

I can write a post like this and have an opinion because I have lived through and am still learning to live with depression and anxiety. If you know me you know I am not playing and I do not use those terms loosely. I have not been sad like "my dog died and my friend is mad at me". I have been sad, weeping, lost and alone unable to function- participating in self mutilation because it was the closest thing to relief I could find. I have not been anxious like "I have to make a speech or what is the doctor gonna say". I have been debilitated, trembling calling 911 (numerous times) because my heart won't slow down and the world is spinning and my face is so tingly I can hardly open my mouth to speak. I have woken out of SLEEP with these symptoms.

I LIVE WITH THESE THINGS. I was put on medication at 16 years old and didn't come off of it until 31- after numerous failed attempts prior. I have only been off of them for 7 months and there have been days and weeks in this past 7 months that felt like LIFETIMES. They felt like defeat and terror and sadness and exhaustion and "WHERE ARE YOU GOD???". But you know what, it isn't because my brain is deficient in serotonin, it is because I am broken.

God created us to feel. The Bible is riddled with broken people crying out to God- some of them asking for death because their pain is SO huge, (both David and Job- probably more but I'm not a Bible teacher). When bad things happen or we are participating in bad things, negative emotional response is not only normal, but is a NECESSARY alarm to signal something is wrong. These days, when you are sad, generally it is not taken into account the core of what is causing sadness. If you are sad, but you have a house and money and food and a family it is assumed since "nothing is wrong" that there is this chemical brain problem.

I have a family. An AWESOME family. I have a house, food, money, stuff...all sorts of things that hundreds of thousands of people on this planet could only dream of having. I have a relationship with Jesus and a church home. I have friends, GREAT ones who I could go to with anything. These amazing blessings though, do not negate issues both past and present that cause me to struggle with depression and anxiety.

Like most people, I have not had an easy life. I have been a victim of things that were never Gods plan for my life and those things matter. They became a part of who I am, because they are my story. As a Christian, Jesus gave me the opportunity and the tools to not live as a victim. I don't walk around defeated because of my past, because I am made new in Christ.....HOWEVER (and here is where it gets tricky), that doesn't make my past and all that came with it disappear. Jesus isn't a magician He is a teacher (savior, etc, but roll with me here). Knowing and loving God doesn't make my pain and my experiences go away like a train on a David Copperfield stage, what it does is teach me how to move past, grow from and USE that pain to help and reach others. That to say, I AM STILL LEARNING.

I deal with depression because I am still in process of learning to take that ugly and hurt and apply it in a positive way. I deal with anxiety because I still don't fully trust the sovereignty of God. I am concerned with my safety and my families safety and the fragility of life, and these are simply NOT for me to be concerned with because I can concern myself all day long and still have no control over any of it. THUS I am anxious and sad.

What I am getting at here, (God bless you if you're still with me), is that we live in a world, in a culture particularly, that is completely ignoring the root causes of "mental illness". We are selling people the lie that more stuff, more food, more travel, more money will fill a void. Consume, consume, consume. For a moment, a FLEETING moment that consumption soothes the void, but we all know that tomorrow there will be something bigger, better, more luxurious, more delicious that if we could only get our hands on would REALLY do the trick. WE ALL KNOW THE LIE HERE. WE ALL LIVE IT OR HAVE LIVED IT. Then, when the lie proves to be a lie, we just medicate you, band-aid the fact that there was a void you were trying to fill in the first place and tell you something is wrong with your brain, it's genetic, it's hereditary, you're a slave to your ancestors, here take this little pink pill and at least maybe you'll stop crying long enough to get to work and make more money to buy more stuff.

PEOPLE- WE ARE BROKEN. WE HAVE PAIN. WE HAVE HISTORY. WE HAVE A PAST. THERE  ARE INNUMERABLE REASONS TO BE SAD, WORRIED, ANGRY, AFRAID. I know that Jesus is the answer, BUT even if Jesus isn't your thing, even if you can't get down with the religious/church thing, AT LEAST RECOGNIZE THAT YOUR FEELINGS ARE DEEPLY CONNECTED TO SOMETHING. YOUR SADNESS IS CONNECTED TO SOMETHING IN YOUR LIFE. YOUR WORRY IS CONNECTED TO SOMETHING IN YOUR LIFE- PAST OR PRESENT- THERE IS A CONNECTION AND IT IS VALID. You cannot medicate your pain away, you cannot fill it up with stuff, you cannot drown it with beer or wine or cocktails you cannot wish it away.

Look harder. Look deeper. Look inside. Take the time, the money the energy (and it will take SO MUCH FREAKING ENERGY), and TALK to someone who can guide you in finding that connection. If you can afford Starbucks and new shoes and dinner out you can afford at least a couple sessions with a therapist to help get you on the right track. Stop passively posting on Facebook and Twitter about your hurts and reach out to REAL PEOPLE- friends and family.

And for goodness sake if you have the information, if you have the knowledge about the reality of psychiatric drugs and the blatant abuse of them TALK to other people about it. Someone has to say something. Someone has to make the first move.

*Disclaimer: All I have is my own journey, and what I feel God and research and experience have taught me about medication. If you take meds, I have absolutely NO judgement. I encourage you to take the time to do the research yourself and come to your own conclusions. I have Xanax in my purse. I avoid it at all costs and am aware of what I am doing should I choose to take it. NO ROOM TO JUDGE, just trying to get a message out there. Also, most of the information posted here is from a book called "Cracked, The Unhappy Truth About Psychiatry", which I read as I was coming off of meds- GREAT book, will make you want to stand on a rooftop and yell at the cosmos for justice, but awesome and informative. For more information about antidepressants that you won't hear on the news, check out www.cchr.org.

Untitled.

I want

To be ripe with hope.

Full up with it until my seams are bursting,
stretched to capacity
but soft from its fullness.

I want

To capture thoughts.

Scoop them up and hold them
like fish in a net,
discarding those unfit to be kept.

I want

To be drunk with Shalom.

Far beyond whispers in temples
and cease fires.
Shalom so big it's like black holes-
Misunderstood and never ending.

I want

To stand in unwavering faith.

Infantile, new world, trusting
that the breast of my mother and
the fact that she exists is enough for me.

I want

To drown in joy.

Face hurting laughter at the sheer
lovliness of this breath in my lungs
and the birds and the lilies
all so beautifully clothed with no care
at all knowing that they
are simply not responsible
for such things.  

I want

To trust You.

For all of the above.
To stop looking in so much
And
Just
Look
Up.

I am a grain of sand.
I am important and yet so unimportant.
I am impermanent and will one day
be forgotten,
and that is okay.
That is more than okay
because the little tiny
person who I am-
one day forgotten,
only serves to show
how big
and glorious
and eternal

You are.