On Par with Life

I despise golf. Well, I suppose I can’t completely say I despise the game because the only golfing I’ve done has been at the Putt Putt course. I can remember I spent most Weekend afternoons while I was growing up flipping through the T.V. channels and all I could find on was golf tournaments. I’d usually plan my afternoon nap then. It was just boring to me. What was the point in driving a ball halfway across the green just to rack up a small number of points? I always thought the more you had, the better you won. And honestly, how can it be worth all that money?

That was before I started praying for my best friend’s Granny. Now, I’ve decided I want to shoot a 57.

Seems kind of impossible for me to shoot a 57 on a golf course with a par of 73 being a golfer who’s never even picked up a real club; but I’ve learned that with God, nothing is impossible, not even a good golf score.

Two years ago I entered into my first year of college and found a great friend of mine through the Christian Campus House. We’re like Batman and Robin now. Two years ago, my superhero friend’s Granny passed out on a golf course. Now, I know golf can get boring sometimes, but Granny has been a golfer her whole life. She wasn’t bored. She was sick, and didn’t know from what.

For a year she was in and out of the hospital, continually getting worse and continually being told they didn’t know what was wrong with her. The doctors kept saying it wasn’t cancer. A year later she started her first Chemo treatment.

By that time, Granny had been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer and it had spread throughout her body. I became a prayer warrior. I hadn’t met Granny then but it didn’t matter, she and my friend needed my prayers. Matthew 6:33-34 was a constant. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

I never knew day to day how things were going to turn out with Granny. Some days the updates I got were good, other days, they sounded as if there might not be a tomorrow. Even through all of them I kept praying. For Granny, and for my friend. If either let worry set in, the days would have become endless. They didn’t have time to think about tomorrow because today, as God tells us, brought enough of its own thoughts. God was the constant. He was the today. After Granny’s eighteen treatment Chemo schedule (nine treatments are the normal for most cancer patients) she had a double mastectomy. Six months ago at 80 years old, Granny persevered through a process I don’t even think I, at 20, could handle.

But she did it and she came out strong. Since then she has finished her Radiation treatment and is on her way to remission. Like most cancer patients, it’s going to be a long road, but Granny is one strong woman. This week she ventured to the golf course again. A place she hasn’t been on for two years since she last passed out on it. For some people, it’s hard to get back up on the horse they’ve fallen off of. But not Granny. She welcomed it. And on her first golf round she shot a 57 on a par of 73.

Matthew 17:20 is tattooed on my foot. He replied, “I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard see, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you. Cancer is a hard thing to face in life, and God uses it in many ways, but I knew in my prayers that nothing was going to be impossible for Him in this situation. Oddly enough, I’ve still never met my friend’s Granny, but I feel like I know her, like I owe her one of the biggest thanks in my life. Praying for her and hearing her golf story made me realize truly how important it is to face each day as it comes without one reservation. To let tomorrow’s worries be tomorrow’s worries and to believe with every ounce of my being, every mustard seed of my faith that nothing, not one speck of life will be impossible for me.

Granny is a woman who faced her days for the past two years with nothing but strength. She never knew what the next sunrise was going to bring her but she let them come. She faced it one day at a time as we are supposed to do. That’s what I want to do. I want to be able to face life and shoot a 57. I may never find a golf course that fits me, but life is my golf course and God is my caddy. Whatever comes my way I can face it; I can get back up and swing. God has my clubs; He is carrying my worries so that I can have the game of my life. I want to face today and I want to match Granny.

I’m not quite halfway into my junior year of college and life is moving rapidly. I’ve moved out of my parent’s house and I’m living on my own. I’m starting to decide whether I eventually want to go to Graduate school or to what kind of job I want my major to take me. Not to mention where. And on top of all that, I’ll probably be planning a wedding soon and starting to mesh a life together with a husband. Those things bring a lot of worries. Some days I wake up and all those worries crowd together in my head and I feel like I can’t make it; not even beginning to think about what I have to do that particular day. But it’s on those days when I think about Granny and how if she faced the impossible then so can I. The Creator I serve is so much more powerful than a little shadow of worry. He willingly carries my shadows to allow me to live freely. Because of that I choose to wake up each day by one thought.

I want to shoot a 57.

Intoxicating

"Stress is basically a disconnection from the earth, a forgetting of the breath."
-Natalie Goldberg

Right now this is how I feel. Between the noise levels at work, the constant flow of people, the never ending need of something done... I cannot focus.

Then there happens to be the multi-array of colorful Starbursts occupying the fishbowl. I can't keep my eyes, or my fingers away.

Maybe soon I'll find some peace in the rain drops.

Pacing through Life

For seven months I felt like I was on a hill that just continued to climb. Never was I going to cross the crest and find the sunrise on the other side. At least, that was what my mind kept telling me. My heart really wanted that sunrise.
Not only was I living on an ever climbing hill, but it seemed like I just kept watching the sunset. Oh, don't get me wrong, a sunset is beautiful... but it's the end of the day. The end; and I, I like the beginning. of things.
Beginnings always bring something new. The sunrise brings a new day to praise. A new day to live. Story beginnings bring a new adventure; the start of a relationship bring excitement; a friendship beginning brings a chance for life. The first sip of coffee, or lick of an ice cream cone bring a smile. Just looking at beginnings we can always see something good. Something new, something alive. But what about the end?
Most of the time the end is always looked at so pessimistically. We never give it a chance to grow on us. We don't want the day to be over because we have so much to do. Or, maybe we don't want to lose that friend, or that love. Finishing a story sometimes brings tears or anger because it didn't end like we wanted it too. Too many times we try to figure out the end, or live only dreading the end because we only see what we want to see. On that hill, all I see is a sunset... an end to a day, a run, a goal, a task that I didn't get done. And because I only see that end I stress, I worry, I fill my heart with the anxiety that rules my head. Suddenly, that connection is broken. I stop pacing myself with my heart and instead pace myself through my head. All the promises of new things, of stress free things my heart tells me is gone.
My heart is my soul. My faith, my love, my blessings, my life... and my head, well, most of the time it isn't connected to my heart because it's too filled with the worldly lies satan throws at me. Though I try and strive to live through my heart, my head gets the better of me. When that chord between the two is severed, all I begin to see is the end. Just the blasted end.
Ecclesiastes chapter 3 tells me that there is a time and a place for everything under the sun. That means there is a time to begin and a time to end. So when I really think about it; when I focus with my heart... a time for an end is really the beginning.
For seven months I was on a hill climbing up never thinking I would make it to the end. When all this time the end was really what I was waiting for. The end was bringing the beginning of something new. Think about it. A sunset actually brings the night. Something new. A sunset, the end of the day, brings the chance for a new one. A chance to start over, to do something more wonderful. The end of a story brings about imagination. Even the end of a relationship or a friendship beings the chance to start over, to find the one that will really fit. Endings are divine. They happen so that we may learn. They happen so that we have a chance to take another adventure in life. This time, realizing that an end is only the start of something beautiful awaiting us.
I paced myself for seven months waiting for my love's deployment to end. All this time I never saw how good the end would be. I pessimistically stereotyped the end thinking that it would never come. And when it did, that it would bring about more stress. When really,we were running towards something wonderful the whole time. The pace to the end was beautiful. I just didn't let my heart see that.
When I hugged him as he stepped off the bus this weekend, I knew the end had finally come. I had reached that hilltop. My heart took over when I realized that end was only the beginning.
If I think about life with my heart, it's so simple. It's about beginnings and ends. It's about pacing with the beat of my soul, my heart; not the pulse of my brain. There's a time for every beginning and a time for every end. But the beauty of it all, is that the end simply is only the beginning. Life comes full circle at us, all we have to do is pace.

God Hears

Let's say it was a beautiful day.

I ran four miles this morning in under 40 minutes... perfect pacing. It was a great run. I woke up and was out the door before the sun was even near the horizon. I love the feeling of being outside for a good span of time while the world wakes up. Time doesn't exist when I run. It just moves along to the beat of my breath and somehow passes as my footsteps rhythmically pound the concrete. The world wasn't quite full sun by the time I got back to my apartment, but it was that moment when the sky is a dusky orange and pink; when you can still see the baby blue spanning the city. The sky blushes; almost as if it's embarrassed I'm watching it wake up. Those early minutes when I start out, the world is naked and vulnerable. Nothing there but myself and the new day. We wake up together. Without it's nakedness, morning wouldn't be morning. There would be nothing new to wake up too. And I wouldn't have reason to run

School was intriguing. I learned. I loved it.

The best news of the day... the one that gives me reason to smile for the rest of my life is that he is coming home. He's on his way back to America after too many months of deployment. Praise God. I mean that... in every way. I will sound the trumpet, play the lyre, sing songs, and bow down. I'm so thankful that heand the rest of his men are safe and coming back to U.S soil. I thought this deployment was going to be very hard, and I know I'm lucky, it wasn't as long as most are. But God shoved my thoughts aside once again and showed me the beauty of his Glory. He was there in every moment. All those days the guys were out in danger. He was there. And he was here with me too. Every chance I had to talk to him, to see him online, and even on those days when I went without talking to him, or when I woke up and just felt like I couldn't face the world, I still felt him. I still felt him because God was there. He is in our love and I believe He can do amazing things with deep, faithfully rooted love.
God is love... and that love runs deep in my soul. Not just flowing in me through my heart, but deep to the core of my being. The love that makes up my soul is deeper than I'll ever be able to explain. But I feel it. It exists in me.
I have learned that no matter what crosses my path, especially when it comes to love, that I can and will get through anything. Nothing is impossible with God. And if anyone challenges me, I'll give them the same answer I've been giving for the past two years dealing with distance and the way life flows. Through all the risks, the hurt, the walls, the breaking, the future. The only way is God. And that is how I'll forever love.

How to Enjoy a Rainy Day

I've discovered a nice Thunderstorm is made perfect with a cup of sweet coffee and some very good jazz.

It makes the mood even more festive. Especially if there's dancing.

Just a thought

Woooohoo...
I found some really neat things for my current piece of art that I am working on. I am excited to find time this weekend to create.

Life is my canvas. Whether I am running, homeworking, schooling, listening, or creating, it is my canvas. And I love every moment of it.

What is most exciting though it that God has given me this creative gene. I contemplate with my family many a times about just where this gene came from. Sometimes I even argue myself as to if I really have this gene. And then I think... God is God (duh!) and he pretty much can give me whatever he wants too whether it comes as a gene from my family or not. And if it's creativity, whether visual art or writing, I'm totally going to accept it.

Enjoy the night.

Tug-o-war of the mind

My brain is clouded. I hate days like this.

It's as if the words that exist in the writing part of my brain, all the ideas I've accumulated, they just sit there. Float around my head, while I pull snippets out here and there but not enough to make a complete thought today.

I pull and play tug-o-war with my brain, but today it feels like it's winning. I used to love tug-o-war too. Especially when we played girls against boys. It gave my friends and I a chance to prove as a kid, that girls were just a strong as boys. And how fun it was pulling them across the line. Feeling the slack as we knew we were winning. Such a great accomplishment.

Too bad my mind isn't cooperating like that today. I think I even had something great going this morning while I was running, but that idea ran right out of my brain too.


It's not writer's block. Just war of the mind. And I'll fight it.

Laundry and T shirts

Just a little creative juices flowing...

"She'd been in the apartments two weeks and had yet to meet any of the other tenants, let alone actually see any of them. Two weeks, well that constituted a weekend devoted to laundry which she hated. It wasn't that doing laundry was so bad, in fact, folding could sometimes be soothing, especially when the fabric softener emanated the smell of lavender. And she loved folding his t shirts. The ones he left at her place. Some mornings she'd be going through her drawers trying to figure out what her body felt like wearing that day, and in between her clothes she'd find one of his random t shirts, or maybe a pair of boxer shorts. Those she saved for sleeping in. But pulling on one of his t shirts over her green silk bras and feeling the soft, worn cotton on her skin; even with the lavender fabric softener she could still smell his man scent. That mix of soap, cologne, and little bit of sweat. Those shirts made every day better.
The worst part of laundry was dragging everything down the hall to the boxed room and pushing quarters into the machine. Those quarters could be buying her a triple shot latte on mornings when all she wanted to do was stay cozy in bed and watch the sun come in through the slits in the shades. The sun added that extra warmth the comforter just didn't fill. Especially when the spot beside her was empty.
T shirts, no matter how many times she wore them, weren't going to bring him back. "