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Awakening Iris (The Dreamcatchers Saga #1)

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Amen

I could be lonely. I could be selfish, and maybe I am. I could be blind. Maybe I'm shaded. I could be the cynical, the hateful and hated.  But I choose love for those who also choose love. Love for each other and the underdog. Love for those losing the battle and who needs a friend to help them fight despite the odds. Love for the war torn country that stands for everything that I believe in. And I love those who love them as well.

I have been blessed in this life with every throbbing beat of my heart and every drop of red that pumps through my veins. I have been given people to love, and so many of them. And I love them all in all different shades and colors of what love can be or mean. I love them without measurement or definition. I love them with the speed of light and sound combined. I love so many that my prayers at night would be hours long if I were to name them with all that they need. And that is blessed, my friend.

Lord God, our Father in heaven,

I pray for protection and safety over my family and all who I hold dear to me. I pray that you heal them in their own individual ways that only you can know of. I pray that you strip them of any illness and make them whole and new. I pray that you give them strength and courage to make the right decisions even if they are tough and mean sacrifice. I pray, Lord, that you help them accomplish what they think to be impossible and that you find a way to let them know that you are always, always with them. That they are never alone, even when they feel like the only one left in the world. I pray that they prosper and persevere and love so flawlessly and unconditionally. I pray they find it in them to always plant their feet firmly on the ground in the morning and that you take away any of their pain. I pray that they know the dawn, orange-bruised sunset, and sparkling shining stars and hold them forever and well in their minds eye, heart and soul. I pray that they hold everything dear to them in places that no man can touch or take away. And finally, we love you, and I pray that you love us the same despite, our let downs, weaknesses, and perfect imperfections. We will never be you or be on your level, but we are loved by you nonetheless and hope that you know, KNOW, that we are grateful. And we know as long as we have our faith, and as long as we hold our hope nothing can really hurt us and we will be okay. We will be just fine. And, God, I pray for a little of the same. Thank you for your blessings and for hearing my prayer.

In your name, I pray this...
Amen.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

You. Just Hold On

Let me tell a story.

This is a hard story for me to tell. It's definitely not one I would share to just anyone over a nice dinner. In fact, as I sit and write this, I'm second guessing myself, wondering if I should push that backspace button. Why? Because a very prideful part of me is ashamed, even though I know that I shouldn't be. A very fearful part of me is scared, for so many reasons and none at all.

Once, there was this girl. She was sixteen and curled up at the end of her bed on her bedroom floor. In one hand she clutched a phone as the other hand was balled up at her side. The girls rope lights that hung along her ceiling over her scattered artwork of pieced together posters and magazine clippings shined brightly in gold just as they always did because she was scared to turn them off. She was frightened of what it would feel like in the dark, and she can't remember the last time she slept in it. To her left The Eagles played on her CD player and the blankets and sheets were tossed about, falling haphazardly off of her bed.

This sixteen year old girl, this being who had barely had any time to really live, was drowning. The sea roared in her ears and tugged at her spirit and suffocated her fire. She was a beautiful, respectable, perfectly well- consumed, and remarkable train wreck. She was a ship set on self destruct and a toy in an army of fools. She was a small, yet desirable piece to a wicked set of games, and a empathetic, sensitive piece of a soul that always felt just a little too much and always fell a little too hard. And this girl wasn't even crying. She was sobbing. She wasn't hurt. She was crushed into dust, left to be stepped on. She hadn't just lost a piece of herself and had simply and poetically fallen apart. She was broken into tiny, glittering fragments. And she wasn't just missing something. She was undeniably hollow inside.

She had wondered if anyone would ever miss her as much as she would miss them. Would anyone love her even more than she could ever imagine? Would anyone in this world ever see her? Understand her? Could there ever be anyone to piece her together instead of tear her apart? She felt a pain so real to her at the time, she would do anything to make it stop. And her mind wondered to the darkest parts, the pits that only slide into deeper valleys and trenches. And in these trenches she wondered to herself to what extent would she go to make it all go away.

All because of a boy. A useless, selfish boy that would never know any better, who would never do any better. A boy who cared so little that he didn't even feel when he left a trail of pitiful destruction in his wake. He was a tornado and she was a tree. He was water and she was fire. He was the wolf and she was the mindless sheep. At the time she didn't know this. She didn't know about another more important man that she would meet in less than two years. She didn't know that he would look at her in a way where it felt the world shifted and that she mattered. She didn't know that the smell of leather would become one of her favorite scents and that she would love frosty starlit nights. She didn't know that she would marry this man who was, at the time, in Germany. She didn't know that so many others things would matter and that she would eventually not even be able to recall what that boy really even looked like. She didn't know that over time his face would fade from her memory and that she would never in a million years connect him with the word love. But she should have known. She should have.

I remember this night so clearly. Because I was that sixteen year old girl. It's not because this was my only bad night, because in the course of that toxic relationship I had a lot, A LOT, of bad nights. And it's not because this night really held any kind of epiphany or self revelation for me. In fact, I often wondered why this night has always been held so vividly in my mind. And I think it's because it's the lowest I had been. At such a tender age I had hit rock bottom and went even further down to sink into the black abyss. At only sixteen!

So here's my point. And this is why I am telling this story that may not even matter to some.

It's because I was at such a pivotal time in my life right then. Anything could have tugged me off of one side or the other. Any trivial thing could have swayed me. And that can be scary. In hindsight I don't believe that I would have done anything so permanent and impulsive, but just simply how sad and alone I had felt that night was enough.

But I pressed on and I survived. I saw the sunrise and another sunset and the twinkling of the white light stars. And because of that it all passed. Everything from that night went away and I shed it like a layer of dead skin. And when I awoke I was new again. The day was new again. And I could do anything that I wanted with it. And now, here I am, almost twelve years later, married to that guy who sees me, who loves me, who is loyal to me, who gave me a new appreciation for the smell of leather and frosty starlit nights. And I don't even remember that boy. Because he never mattered in the grand scheme of things. And what has never mattered can be just simply washed away. Clean the slate. Start fresh. Wipe all of the dirtiness of that past self's existence away. Come to terms with your scars, fresh and raw, and then allow them to heal and shine. Don't hide them. Don't be ashamed of them. Because they are your story. They are what make you , you. And they are proof that you've made it through your own personal hells and came out a freaking warrior.

Now? Now I am listening to my eight year old son and six year old daughter play, and then fight, and then play, and then fight in the next room. And that is okay. Because this is what I wanted! This is what I've been blessed with! This is what is in my cards and what I have wanted all along! And the only thing that matters at the end of the day are their pitter patter of footsteps running down the hall, and the two of them talking at bedtime when they are supposed to be asleep, and their bedtime prayer and song, and how they are all of a sudden thirsty when they are curled up under the covers instead of before they climb into bed.What matters at the end of the day is the kiss I get from my husband, our string of shows that we watch loyally every single week and laugh about, the tea that I make us and how I can't put the fitted sheet on our bed so he does it for me.

So what I'm trying to say is, is it all gets better. You, that sixteen year old who stumbled across this. It gets so much better! You are not even close to the peak of the best years of your life. Don't give another thought about that boy that hurt you, or that rumor that was spread, or what people think of you. Move along! Open a new door if one has been slammed on you. There are so many doors out there. Thank God for your opportunities because he's the reason that you have them! Take them and hold on to them for all that you are worth, because you are worth a whole hell of a lot.

This isn't coming from some girl a decade older than you that "thinks" that they understand you, or "thinks" that they have been there. I'm telling you. I HAVE been there. I HAVE had my heart shatter, rumors spread about me, and my blood spilled. I have been worried over and have done the worrying. I have been to therapy and have made tons of mistakes. And I will STILL tell you. It. Gets. Better. It gets...heavenly.

Trust me. This stranger telling you this. Because one day, when you do pull through, and you are content and happy and filled to the top with laughter and love, you will remember this. And you'll finally realize that I was right.

So hold on. Hold on damn tight. And  wait for it. Wait patiently. Because in the end, it will all be worth it.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Thank you: A Trip In The Life of...

I will be the first to say that I was a teenager that I hope and pray my daughter will not become. I was a roiling pain in the ass with an attitude and temper so flaring I wonder how I didn't run everyone I love away. I embarrass myself of decisions that I had made, things that I have done even though I would never take them back because it has allowed me to develop into the person I am today. It has given me wisdom and experience and a new-found appreciation for everything that I have.

Come on, everyone knows it, when you are 14 you start to notice boys. You want to be older, braver, sexier and you think you are so damn smart. And then 15 rolls around and you have just come to the conclusion throughout that year you've become a genius! You have self pronounced yourself as queen and everyone should just bow down to you and do as you damn well wish and if they don't you will throw a tantrum (which isn't really adult like in hindsight.) And then, oh!, that 16th year! You are dating boys that your parents hate and swear that you are in love, but yet you are so confused because, yeah, you notice this other boy over there. Well, hell, maybe you're in love with him too! Because, yeah, we all know that always happens. See me internally laugh right now. Because as we all know, you get older, and when you finally fall in love, like deep down in the rabbit hole I am mad kind of love, it's with only one person. And we don't give a shit about the guy across the street. 

Anyways, I guess my point is, is that at this specific time, you know, you're 16th ish year, you feel so misunderstood. And you feel that the one person that probably understands you less than anyone in this world is your mother. Yes! Your mother. The mom that you had resided in for 9 months, bathed in her heartbeat, and had been lulled by lullabies even at that premature stage in your life. The mom that willingly went through the pain that equalized around 12 fractured ribs at once,and the one person that risked every second of their life just to protect you. The mom that gave her food to you just because she wanted you to eat even if meant that she wouldn't. The mom who shared her drinks and didn't say a word about your toddler slobber dripping back into her cup. The mom that cleaned up your vomit and slept in the chair beside you all night and insisted that you weren't dying when you said you were going to write a will even though you had nothing but a used up stereo, Pat Benatar CD and cucumber melon body spray to give away. The mom that has cried when you weren't looking, who never told you how much your words had ever hurt you, who showed you how much your pathetic song or home-made card was actually worth to her, who wrote you secret notes and stuck them in a box under her bed, and who prayed for nothing but your complete safety and happiness every single night. The mom who lost sleep and weight and most of her sanity to ensure your happiness, survival, and livelihood. The mother who went to every one of your choir concerts even though she was sick and running a fever. The mother who used rent or food money to get you a particular prom dress that you had your eye on, and then shoes and make-up afterward! The mom who would take you window shopping and out for pizza and maybe even buy you something despite the fact that she found something that she liked right before you pointed out this "amazing shirt" so she got that instead. The amazing person who is probably the only one in this world who will ever really truly understand who you are down to your core. At 16 she doesn't understand you. But at 27 you know that she is and was the only one who really ever did.

I understand now, and appreciate, and almost even cry over the sacrifice, the patience, the sincerity, and the hardship of this kind of love. I don't know if I understand it more now because I am a mother myself or if it's just because I simply got older. But either way, I get it now, mom. I understand. I know. And I thank you.

And to any 14, 15, or 16 year old reading this. You will understand someday too. That boy right now doesn't matter, even though you'll read this and say "yes he does!" That shirt, those shoes, that friend, and that new movie that you want to see without your mom tagging along doesn't matter. But that angel watching over you even when you don't know sure in the hell does. Yes, you are getting older, and yes, you are getting smarter, no, you are still not queen. But remember, as you are getting older so is your mother. And even though this may be disturbing to her, it is also terrifying and amazing all at once to her to see you getting older as well. Older and beautiful and more independent by each passing day.One day you won't need her, and it will kill her inside, but she will sit in silence as long as you are happy. Just remember, you may not think that she understands but she does. And she will not judge you. She will not hurt you or say nasty things to or about you. She will love you and help you and hold you. No. Matter. What.

My mom has taught me so much in my 27 years so far. So much that I didn't even really pick up on at the time that I think about now. Here's 27. One for each year!

1: How it's okay to be different.
2: Always stand your ground. It keeps you fighting for something.And fighting, well, you know you're still alive. It gives you purpose.
3: If you don't know your purpose, don't stop looking until you find it.
4: Be the voice for the voiceless.
5: Different isn't always so different from you.
6: Keep an open mind. 
7: Because people who judge are assholes.
8: You won't go straight to hell for something as simple as making some mistakes and, you know, living.
9: Just take the criticism.
10: Don't start a fight, but finish it.
11: People suck sometimes. They just do.
12: Calm down. You're not going to die.
13: Blackberries are amazing.
14: And so is peach cobbler.
15: Be happy with who you are.
16: Not everyone is good at the same thing.
17: Ghostee movies are great!
18: I really am your best friend in disguise.
19: Experience in all music genres is "A" okay!
20: Sacrifice. Simply.
21: Even though you're 27 I will still buy you things because I can.
22: You're mom telling you it's okay is really sometimes all you need to hear.
23: She's usually right.
24: What being happy for someone else really means.
25: Love someone despite their hair color, lifestyle, or how many tattoos they have.
26: You can't live without tea.
27: You are not crazy.

I love you, mom, and I'm glad that we are a part of each other. Here's a song for you, and even for my own ragamuffins <3

Jess