Author Archives: Nicole Perez

La Vie En Rose

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ImageI realize it’s been quite a while since I’ve posted on this blog.  Part of it has to do with the fact that my well of creativity hath runneth dry, and the other part has to do with the fact that I’ve just been in a weird, dark place in my life.

The reason I’ve come out of hibernation is because I want to share with you something awesome God showed me a short while back.  But first, let me set this up for you.

When I was a tiny coffee bean of a little girl, I was very curious.  I was new to the world and had a lot of questions about how it functioned.  Much to my father’s dismay, he became my personal Google.

My poor dad had to hear this squeaky 3-year-old ask, “Why?” over and over and over again.  I asked questions ranging from “How will I know when I can read?” to “What am I going to be when I grow up?”  You know, the small questions of life (and I swear, I actually asked these questions at this age).

At some point during my seemingly endless line of questioning, I asked my dad how flowers grew.  Instead of just providing a verbal answer, he gave me a visual aid by drawing each step of the growth cycle of a flower.  He then put each picture in a plastic sleeve and bound them together in a folder.  Doing this bought him maybe one minute of relief from my rapid fire of questioning and gave me one of my most treasured possessions.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago, and I had a similar encounter but this time with my Heavenly Father.

Like I said earlier, I had been going through quite the rough season in my life (actually, I still am).  I felt pressed in on every side with no sign of relief and God was the last person I wanted to talk to.  I doubted, I questioned, felt abandoned and forgotten, and only saw darkness surrounding me.

It’s not that everything was going wrong in my life, but I was definitely walking around with a broken heart.  It was a struggle to get up every morning and put on a brave face – some days were easier than others – but my smile was just a cover up for the brokenness I was enduring.

So one day I was just going about my business, not really thinking about much or even seeking God for answers, and I heard him speak to me about the growth of a flower, but from the perspective of a seed.  Fortunately, it didn’t take long for me to realize He was talking about me.

Here’s what God spoke to me: first, the seed (you) is planted in rich soil.  It’s pressed down deep, completely surrounded in darkness.  It can’t see or feel the sun, but it’s there.  It doesn’t know how or when it will sprout, but it will.  A seed cannot see the gardener, but the gardener is there, above ground, tending to the seed, watering it, giving it air and sunshine.

Now, the job of the seed is to be still and allow change to happen in its time.  It will be dark for a while and, at times, uncomfortable as it sprouts roots and starts pushing to the top.  And one day, the seed will not only break through the surface, it will become a beautiful, fragrant flower giving great pleasure to the gardener.

Pretty cool, right?  I thought so.  I also found it terrifying and felt claustrophobic because I understood where I was in that picture.  I was the seed pressed in on every side unable to feel any sense of hope for breakthrough or the existence of an ever-present gardener.

I’ve also come to understand that this metaphor applies to many facets of life.  It’s a great picture about our lives from start to finish, but it also applies to seasons of life.  Right now, I don’t feel so pressed down (maybe I’m starting to sprout), but I still don’t see the breakthrough happening.  But there have been other times in my life when I’ve been above the surface and have felt the sun shining on me.  So even when my next breakthrough comes, I can also be sure that I will be the seed once again.  It’s a constant cycle, one that does not end until we’re plucked from the earth and enjoyed at the Creator’s table.

I hope that wherever you are at in your growth cycle that you remember that you are not gone from God’s sight.  He has planted you right where he wants you for a reason and will see you through every phase of growth.  Be still, trust in his timing for change, and when it’s right, you will bloom into the fullness of all that God has created you to be.

Look at life through rose colored glasses, even when you’re a seed covered in dirt.

It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay

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PamAside from the odd job here and there, I’ve basically been unemployed for nearly two years.  In fact, I haven’t had a full-time job since I was laid off in 2008.  To say it has been a “struggle” would be a gross understatement.

Mind you, it hasn’t been all doom and gloom over the past few years, but I spent a lot of time questioning life choices while making futile attempts at convincing hiring managers to choose me over the next desperately seeking Susan.

So when a friend of mine propositioned me about a solid job opening, I was compelled to consider applying for the position.  The job was completely unrelated to anything I had my professional sights set on, but I figured the responsible thing to do was apply for the job and accept my lot because maybe God’s will for my life included taking this sharp right turn in a new direction.

In the middle of the interview I was carrying on a fantastic inner monologue.  I kept asking myself, “Do you really want this job?  Why do you keep selling yourself so hard to get the position?  Stop trying to make yourself look good! This is not the time to be competitive!” and so on and so forth.

Even during the interview I knew this wasn’t where I wanted to be or what I wanted to do, but I continued to tell myself, “Suck it up and be an adult.  You’ve prayed a long time for a job, so take it if it’s offered to you.”  Ten minutes after I left the interview the job was offered to me.  I accepted it and cried every day for at least a solid week.

To be fair, I had a lot of good reasons to accept the job.  The work environment and co-workers are fantastic, the idea of doing my part to help people get the care they needed sounded amazing (and it was), and praying with the staff at the start of the workday was incredible.  So for those reasons, I knew I didn’t make a bad decision but I certainly didn’t make a right one either.

However, it didn’t take long for me to reach the breaking point; shortly after taking the job I gave my two weeks notice.

This was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make because: 1.) I don’t like to quit, 2.) I don’t want to be viewed as a quitter, and 3.) I was well aware that I’d be letting down a few people in the process especially since I unintentionally gave the false impression that I was happy to be employed.

Long story already long, here’s what I learned from this experience.  First of all, go with your gut.  From the get go, I felt a heavy burden of hesitation but went through with my decision because I thought taking this job was the responsible thing to do.  Turns out, it would have been more responsible to trust my instincts and pass on the job instead of dragging myself (and others) into the consequences of my wrong choices.

Secondly, don’t allow outside pressure or hype to rule your decisions.  I got so caught up in the excitement of the situation that I didn’t give myself the proper time I needed to make a good choice.  I let the positive influence of others – and the fact that I didn’t want to turn away their welcomed assistance – push me into something I didn’t really want to do.

I’m a natural people-pleaser, and unfortunately my inclinations to please the people led to making things quite unpleasant for all parties involved.  Sometimes not having other’s best interests in mind before your own is what is truly best for everybody.

Lastly, be brave. Whether you’re making decisions about a job, the possibility of a relationship, or other potentially life-altering choices, have the guts to make the RIGHT choice.  It takes just as much courage to say no as it does to say yes – even if what is offered to you is of great value.

So there you go, kids, another page ripped from my book of difficult life lessons.  Everything you do may not be right, but if you learn from it, eventually it’ll all be okay.

Band of Gold

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Sometimes I really don’t know if owning up to my nerdy interests is hurting or helping my social life.  I’m the kind of girl who reads for fun (gasp!), digs superheroes, loves British television (Downton Abbey, Doctor Who – I’m officially in love with the 10th Doctor, btw), and would much rather attend Comic Con than a girly tea party any day… unless that tea party happens to take place in London in which case I’m grabbing my biggest hat and heading out the door (supposing a Tardis isn’t already available, of course – see Doctor Who reference).

But whether or not you’re as well versed in the nerd culture as I am, you’ve probably heard a thing or two about the fandom that is the Lord of the Rings.  You know, hobbits, wizards, creepy, balding, bipolar creatures obsessed with jewelry – that stuff, them peoples.  The movies are epic, the books are… difficult, and the soundtrack is inspiring.  It’s the stuff that great novels and their spin-offs are made of.

One of the more famous characters from the Lord of the Rings franchise is Gollum.  He’s that creepy, bone thin, overly cooked hot dog, wide-eyed, creature who openly expresses his obsession with “the ring.”  The sight of him creeps me out and every time he calls the ring his “prrreeccciouuuusss” I just want to throw him in the river.  Yes, I feel that passionately about him.

However, as much as I don’t like him, he’s probably, in my opinion, one of the most well written characters throughout literary history.  Tolkien didn’t settle on creating Gollum to be a one-dimensional character; Gollum is, in one body, two people.  He is Gollum (the evil version of himself) and Smeagol (the nicer, yet equally creepy version of himself).

Gollum is the guy who is overcome with selfishness, greed, and obsession.  Smeagol, meanwhile, hates the ring for the way it has overtaken his life.  He wants the ring destroyed because the ring is destroying him.

I don’t know if Tolkien purposely wrote this character to show the human battle between flesh and spirit and right and wrong, but that’s exactly what he did by creating this literary enigma.

There was one time in my very early years when in a toy store I spotted a kid-sized red car with a yellow top.  According to my parents’ legend, I climbed in the car and it was a… “struggle” to get me out.  They said I never reacted that way to any toy and was never the kind of kid to get all crazy over stuff like that.  I’m still not, but I’m pretty sure if you put me in a Camaro or Dodge Challenger I’d have a similar reaction – just sayin’.

As it turns out, I did end up getting that car.  Just to clarify, my parents didn’t buy it for me that day – they didn’t reward bratty behavior and they’d definitely be the first ones to ship me off to Singapore if I ever acted like “that kid.”  Although my parents recognized my extreme passion for motor vehicles and would give me the world if they could, they understood the value of raising someone who isn’t given what they want simply because they demanded or felt entitled to receive it.  I’m thankful for having parents who know how to give me what I need over what I want.

I can say with 100% certainty this instance was the first and last time a material possession caused that kind of reaction in me.  I’ve learned that stuff is just stuff and if I really want something then I’ll work to get it and be content if it never becomes mine.  I am a non-material girl living in a material world.

My dreams on the other hand have become my “rings.”  Getting married, having the dream job, etc., have at one time or another turned me into the Gollum/Smeagol character.  These things, while certainly not bad in and of themselves, have caused me to act, well, crazy.  I’ve cried, whined, yelled, kicked, screamed – all the things extreme fits are made of.  At times, I’ve gotten so focused on WHAT I think my dreams should look like and WHEN I think they should happen that instead of being content and trusting in God’s plan and timing I straight up turn into a Gollum.

Fortunately, God – in all His love, grace, and mercy towards me – hasn’t given in to my crazy fits or demands.  He’s helped the Smeagol to overtake the Gollum in me and has given me the strength to overcome that nasty, obsessive, think I know better than the Creator of the Universe, mentality.

Yes, it’s an ongoing process, but He’s teaching me how to let go of my will so that His can be done.  And so far I’ve found that His way and timing (though not always to my liking) is far better than my own.  Oh to think of the bullets I have dodged.

Whatever your “rings” are in your life, stick ‘em in your pocket and continue on in your journey.  Yep, they’re going to call out to you, tempt you, and drive you crazy until you reach your destination, but it’s far better to own the ring than to be owned by the ring.

So carry on, Hobbits! Enjoy the journey and remember that the Author of your life knows the beginning, end, and every twist of your story.  You are His precious.

Not Like The Movies

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It’s not often that my life imitates art, but every now and then something so epic happens that makes me think, “Wow, that was just like a movie.”  The story I’m about to tell you was one of those moments.

So far, I haven’t had any cinematic experiences such as Jake Ryan pulling up in his sports car rescuing me from a horrible birthday or Ferris Bueller taking me on the greatest ditch day of all time.  Rather, I’ve had the great misfortune of living a moment straight out of Say Anything.

I’d love to tell you someone stood outside my door with a stereo above their head blaring “In Your Eyes”.  In fact, I still dream of that happening to me.  What did happen, however, was the famous pen incident.

Let me set up the scene for you.  Teenage heartthrob Lloyd Dobler (a.k.a. John Cusack) was living the dream having nabbed Diane “brain trapped in the body of a game show hostess” Court.  Things were going great until, well, they just weren’t, and when she breaks up with him she gives him a pen asking him to continue to write to her.  I suppose that would be the modern day equivalent of telling someone, “send me a message me on Facebook.”  Ouch.

Devastated, Lloyd calls his sister and delivers the line that would one day ring true in my own life: “I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen.”  Total rejection courtesy of office supplies.  Thank you, Staples.

So one Christmas many years ago it was my personal mission to pick out THE PERFECT gift for the guy I was convinced was the love of my life.  My poor mom had to endure the crowds at the mall while I put all my energy into finding something that would be the perfect token of my love and affection.  Unfortunately, the key to his heart was not on sale, so I just settled for a nice shirt.

Finally it came time for the big gift exchange.  I came bouncing in with a huge smile on my face thinking this would be the first gift of our many Christmases together and I could hardly wait to see his reaction.  He opened the gift and at least seemed to really like it and I was pleased by his response.

Then it was my turn to open his gift to me.  It was a long, small box and all I could think was, “Oh my gosh! Is this a bracelet or a necklace???”  It was neither.  It was in fact a fancy pen.  I gave him my heart in the form of a button-up shirt and he gave me a pen.  Insult to injury, not only was I not the only female recipient of said pen, he also gave me the SAME PEN (with socks) the following year.  I graciously accepted the gift as well as all the bonus rejection that came with it.  Yep.  Life was just like the movies.

In the years that followed, I discovered a couple of things: 1.) This guy was definitely not the love of my life, and 2.) This would not be the last time I would give away my heart and receive a pen (figuratively speaking) in exchange.

However, the pen has come to represent more than just failed romantic aspirations in my life.  For example, I’ve done everything I know to do to get a job (i.e. earn a degree or two, network, apply) and life keeps handing me the “we’re not going to even acknowledge you sent us a resume” pen.  Sadly, I know I’m not the only graduate who has been handed this load of ink.

And after having acquired quite the collection of these ballpoint rejections, it’s become easier and easier to make room on the desk expecting more to be added to the clutter.  In other words, I’ve come to anticipate disappointment rather than expecting victory in various parts of my life.

Which brings me to this morning.  While I won’t go into detail about what I’m currently dealing with, let’s just say I started making room on my desk for another pen.  And just as I was figuratively clearing some space, something strange happened: “In Your Eyes” came on the radio and the picture of Lloyd standing outside Diane’s window came to mind.

This image reminded me I don’t have to settle, I don’t have to accept another pen or believe that I’m only worthy to receive office supplies as the consolation prize for my hopes and dreams.  The movie doesn’t end with Lloyd accepting the pen or that his dream is over; Lloyd gets creative, turns up the volume on the stereo (as well as the collar on his jacket) as a demonstration to his woman and the world that he’s not giving up on her.  He doesn’t accept defeat; he uses this as an opportunity to rise to the challenge and take hold of what he believes rightfully belongs to him.

So whatever your pens are in life, it’s time to throw them away and start working on creating a new playlist in your head that drowns out the negativity.  Turn on whatever “song” you need to blare at your dream to keep you hopeful, focused, and to remind you to never settle for the consolation prize.

Several years and disappointments have passed since I first got that pen.  There are dreams still yet to be fulfilled and my Lloyd Dobler still hasn’t shown up at my doorstep, boom box in hands proclaiming his undying love for me – heck, even music blaring from an iPhone would work at this point – but I’m hopeful and am slowly but surely starting to believe I don’t have to settle for anything less than something that’s just like the movies.

So bring it on, Lloyd Dobler.  I’m ready to board that plane to England.  3… 2… 1….

Pour Some Sugar On Me

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A Lego portrayal of the Israelites and manna. I couldn't have thought of a better picture if I tried!

I still remember the day I went to see “The Prince of Egypt” in the movie theater.  Growing up in the church, it fascinated me to see a famous bible story portrayed on the big screen.  Even with “Ice Man” (a.k.a. Val Kilmer) doing the voices for Moses and God, I was still able to watch this movie as if I were looking through a window into the past.

The movie did a pretty good job showing how this point in history was a terrifying, hopeful, epic, and miraculous event.  Of course, it also showed what a flawed man Moses was and how God STILL used him despite his past, fears, and insecurities.  That’s not something you see very often in cinema.

The other thing you don’t see or hear of very often is the story of what happened after God used Moses to deliver His people from Pharoah’s tyranny.  The story (and God) didn’t just stop at freeing the Israelites from slavery – no, God wanted to lead them to a promised land, a land flowing with milk and honey.  I think my promised land might also include some steak, bacon, chocolate, tortillas, salsa, a little bit of cilantro, grilled onions, and Diet Pepsi in its most perfect form as served up by Taco Bell (it’s true – theirs is the best).  Mmm, yeah.

Actually, that heart unfriendly food list was a pretty good segue into this next point.  For whatever reason, it took God’s people forty years to reach the promised land, and along the way they needed some provisions to complete the journey, namely food.  The story goes that the people prayed for food and God sent down manna from heaven.  Manna is basically this wafer type stuff that God would spread on the ground, the people would gather it, pound it together, and bake little cakes out of it.  So, pretty much like scones from heaven… as most scones are, in my opinion.

Anyway, this was all the Israelites were allowed to eat during their journey.  Whatever God allotted them for that day was what they had to live on.  If they tried to store some for the next day, it would decay, worms would grow in it, and it was just straight up nasty.  No one wants to own that scone.

It took a long time (just growing up and having life experiences, really) for me to see that there was a point in the way God provided for His people: He wanted them to rely on Him alone for their daily needs to be met.  I’m sure many of them questioned why He insisted on forty years of forced vegetarianism (I would have), but I’m also sure they finally reached a point where they no longer worried if they would receive what they needed to survive one day to the next.  The menu may have been a little too predictable, but at least they could count on always being fed.

So this brings me to this morning when I was getting out of the shower.  As I buried my face in my towel I let out a groan mixed with words like, “Why, God?  What is going on?” and the oddest word popped in my head, “manna.”  Weird.  But God, as I know Him anyway, is quirky like that.

Suddenly everything came into focus (and not just because I moved the towel from my face).  I understood that I am in a desert time in my life and God is only providing me manna for this journey, no extras.  This means a couple of things: 1.) I need to be grateful for His daily provision, (i.e. food on the table, roof over my head, love from family & friends), 2.) Instead of getting caught up in where my life has been, where it’s going, or even what’s going to happen tomorrow, I need to just trust God to get me through today, and 3.) This desert journey is only a temporary journey and I best learn what God wants to teach me as quickly and efficiently as possible so I can get out of here a.s.a.p.!

Sure, it’s not easy transitioning from days of feasting (hello CNN!) to the days of the one item menu (hello unemployment), but it’s all for good reason.  I don’t know what God is preparing me to do or who He’s shaping me to be, but I’m sure this desert wandering (and trust me, I’m wandering) is so I’ll be ready to play when it’s my turn to step up to the plate.  It’s all very Mr. Miyagi making Daniel-san paint the fence so he knows how to fight (rent the o.g. “Karate Kid”, people).

I don’t know how long this desert living is going to last – I hope not much longer – but I have to take a cue from the Israelites and continue to rely on God and God alone to provide my manna one day at a time.  It’s not the feast I am desperately craving, but the manna menu is only temporary.  I just need to remember that even though I’m not gnawing on the fattened calf, my daily needs are still being met by a loving, though sometimes hard to understand, God.  And maybe, just maybe He’ll let me negotiate a side of honey butter and a latte while I tumble with the tumbleweeds :).

Don’t Forget to Remember Me

Anyone who follows me on Twitter knows I’ve been going through a bit of an identity crisis lately. I’ve changed my Twitter handle more times than one person probably should, but the truth is, I’ve been attempting to create a brand and a future.

You see, back when J.K. Rowling first put paper to pen, Twitter and Facebook and even MySpace didn’t exist. Social media back then only consisted of phone calls, letters, and house calls. She wasn’t thinking about a hundred different ways to reach an audience; she merely concentrated on telling the tale about a boy wizard. I envy this quiet beginning.

Nowadays, it’s a lot more crowded and significantly louder with all of this technology. Where once it was difficult to give someone a voice, it is now even more challenging to be heard over the crowd. Hence, when I shout via social media networks, I need to make my voice clear, loud, and, most challenging of all, distinct. Unfortunately, for my Twitter followers, distinguishing myself has come in the form of dealing with multiple Twitter personalities.

Once I finally decided on a pen name everything started falling into place. My Twitter handle became steady, I set up a website (still working on designing it), and the future became a little clearer. I simply was amazed how choosing an identity is what it took for me to break through this wall of frustration and lack of inspiration.

What I didn’t expect was that this breakthrough would release a floodgate of inspiration – drought was replaced with a flash flood that I was unsure about how to control. I was asking myself, should I just write books or should I just blog? Should I be a Christian writer or should I be a writer that’s a Christian? (There’s a difference). Again, I found myself going through another identity crisis, but this time I wasn’t taking it out on my social media outlets.

But then I thought back to one of my favorite Disney movies, The Lion King. There’s this part in the movie where the ghost of Mufasa, Simba’s dad and the O.G. Lion King, whispers to Simba, “Remember who you are!” (You know you just read that in his kingly lion voice). Simba needed a little reminding that he was the son of the Lion King and it was time to take his rightful place as the new man, er, lion in charge. And after choosing to walk confidently in his calling, knowing full well there were still obstacles ahead of him to conquer, he defeated the enemy, assumed the throne, and restored the land to its original beauty.

Like Simba, I think many of us need to remember who we are. We might not be destined to rule a kingdom, but we do belong to The King. Each of us have a purpose and it’s up to us to gain (or regain) the confidence and the strength to live out that calling. Whether you’re put on this earth to affect one person’s life or to touch billions of lives, you must walk in the confidence that you do matter, you do have a purpose, and nothing can take away your reason for being. That’s just the facts.

So in the words of Henry David Thoreau, go CONFIDENTLY in the direction of your dreams. You CAN do all things through Christ who strengthens you and take heart, always remembering who you are: a person of purpose.

(Oh, and if you want to purposely follow me on Twitter, here’s my handle @NycoleReynee. This one’s sticking… I promise… I think. Ha ha!)

Bust A Move

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I hate shopping for toiletries; toothpaste is among the worst. Do I want gel or paste? Do I want it to whiten my teeth, protect them from cavities, or fight tartar? Do I want a mouthful of crispy mint, dragon fire cinnamon, or some sort of paste that tastes like the smell of Comet? All these choices make me want to curl up in a fetal position and just lay in the store aisle until the fluoride storm passes. Clean up on aisle five! I can’t handle the pressure.

The real reason choosing toothpaste is so stressful for me is because I’m slightly fearful of choosing wrong. This pressure is mostly brought on by the fact that the last two or three times I bought toothpaste I chose wrong – really wrong. I’d choose the one that offered all the fancy features, but I wanted paste not gel. Another time, again, going for the fancy features, not only did I accidentally choose gel AGAIN I also managed to choose a horrible flavor. I rarely ever win this battle.

Toothpaste isn’t the only thing in my life that brings on the stress of choosing wrong and failing. In fact, I’ve found most things in my life, particularly those related to my goals and dreams, cause this kind of stress in me to the point of just wanting to lay fetal-like in a store aisle (but if I’m in a Tiffany’s just leave me…. It’s so pretty there).

I discovered I was dealing with this stress/fear when I recently decided to tackle some art projects. I love doing artistic activities, but I usually have a difficult time getting started. Some of it has to do with just a plain lack of creativity and the rest has to do with this feeling that I’ll spend a lot of time working on something that will just turn out crappy. Lame, but true.

So as someone who lacks great artistic ability, I often look to those who make it look effortless. Two such artists are my friend Shawna and my five-year-old cousin Jaime.

Much of my and Shawna’s friendship is built on a shared love for the arts. As college freshmen, one of our favorite activities was to make glitter Christmas cards while everyone else busied themselves studying for finals. We still made the grades (I think… ha ha), but craft time was the glue (sometimes literally) that bonded our friendship. Many years later, we still do these kind of projects together but what she produces is actual art while whatever I do is usually a vain attempt to look like I’ve moved beyond the realm of macaroni necklaces and tissue paper wreaths (although I did make an awesome wreath in 6th grade). She has such a natural, creative intuition and is a true artist.

Then you have my little cousin Jaime. He loves to draw and color, but it’s what he does with his crayons that amazes me. He’s not bound by rules – he mixes colors, blends one into the other and, when necessary, leaves some sections uncolored. In fact, I found this out yesterday when we colored on a menu together. I pointed out two sections of a cow he left uncolored and he said, “No, Colie. Those ones stay like that.” See? Artist. I would never think to leave something blank whereas, in his mind, blank spots contribute to the art. Wow.

While observing two of my favorite people function in their happy places I realized that I’m not as unbounded as they are. It might cross my mind to mix colors or patterns when choosing my wardrobe or to mix different shades of eye shadows, but I usually won’t do it for fear of looking ridiculous or just choosing wrong.

Same thing with my writing. I’d like to be the next J.K. Rowling and write something as epic as Harry Potter, but I think there’s this underlying fear that I’ll write something that will just bore people to pieces. Sure, it could happen, but I’ll never know unless I try. I need to focus on the possibility of writing something great rather than dwelling on what could go wrong.

Art is the example I’m using here, but what do you want to do and are just not getting done? My goals range from cleaning out my room to losing about 40 pounds to writing the next epic novel(s). Whatever’s on your list, start by making the choice to do it. Choose to be greater than whatever is holding you back from taking the first step or continuing on in the journey to reach your goals. Whether it’s fear of failure or just plain laziness (yeah, that gets me too), know that you are greater than whatever would try to bring you down and away from what you want to accomplish in your life (however great or small).

Just making a choice to go forward is already a step in the right direction. So what if you fail? It’s worse to never try. But know this: every day you must choose again to move forward in the direction of your dreams/goals. After all, Rome (and even Hogwarts) wasn’t built in a day.

Hello, It’s Me

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This is going to be a blog mash up.  A mash up of those Five Minute Fridays I’ve been doing (I didn’t say consistently) and a prompt from my friend Melissa’s blog (who I will miss dearly, by the way… stupid Northwest).  Both blog themes seem to really hit home, so instead of just choosing one, this bachelorette is giving a rose to both ladies… journalistically speaking, of course.  So now I give you my mash up of “Welcome” and “Allow Me to Reintroduce Myself.”

(Jessica, you win this week’s Hannah Montana Best of Both Worlds Award. You’re welcome.)

I guess I’ll start with a reintroduction.

Over the past five years, I’ve gone through some big changes.  Not Chastity/Chas Bono kind of changes, but big changes nonetheless.  Here are a few of my highlights:

1.  I love vegetables now more than I ever have in my life.  Because of a few brave souls who invited me over to share in their botanical delights (I consider it all ‘botanical’), I have a great love for broccoli, green beans, bell peppers, grilled onions, corn, brussell sprouts (when wrapped in bacon, of course), and asparagus (thank you to those who warned me of the after effects).  I now feel that I’ve successfully climbed the food pyramid even though it’s a plate now.

2.  I like country music.  There! I came out of the country closet!!! Now, I will say that I still turn my nose to that bluegrass, twangy kind of “music”, but come on… there’s some good stuff out there now! Lady Antebellum, Keith Urban, Miranda Lambert, my #1 forever and always Danny Gokey… they’re at the top of my playlist.  Of course, they all have something in common: their songs barely sound country.  While some of my friends may take this as a slap in the face and/or hole in my credibility, I feel it makes me a much more rounded person and will help me relate to artists of all genres when I’m an uber famous music journalist someday.  So there.

3. Confidence.  This has been the greatest change of all.  I’ve had the confidence to pursue my dreams (hello, masters degree!), the confidence to face up to, fight, and beat the bullies (which sometimes included facing the inner bully that tries to attack my self-worth), and the confidence to face the unknown… which leads right into my next point.

At the beginning of this year, I sensed deep in my heart that life would be considerably different by the start of next year.  I felt right away that it had something to do with my job.  However, I figured the earliest I would leave my job would be late this summer or at the end of this year.  God had a different plan – June 30th was exit day for me.

During my last week at work, everything started to feel final.  For those of you who don’t know my work history, I worked at this college, left on my own terms, came back, got laid off, came back again (because it was the Lord’s source of provision at this point), and was (sort of) laid off again.  What was different about this exit was that I knew deep down that this was for good.  I didn’t burn any bridges and left with my relationships and reputation in tact, but I knew that God probably wasn’t going to be leading me back here again… at least not as a staff member.

The thought of that freaked me out a bit.  While I never intended to return after I was laid off the last time, I think somewhere in the back of my mind I looked at the college as my safety net.  I guess I felt like I could always go back if I needed to and then I did.  Didn’t want to, but I did, and the Lord created beauty from ashes (but that’s a whole other story for another time).

After I said my goodbyes and my dear friend Jessica walked me out the door, I imagined a welcome mat at the threshold.  I didn’t (and still don’t) know what’s waiting for me, but as I crossed that threshold, I felt welcomed into a new life filled with new possibilities where longtime dreams would finally be fulfilled.  Best of all, instead of feeling stressed and anxious as I had anticipated I would at this point, I felt peaceful, excited and full of hope.  I think that’s a fantastic way to close one chapter and start the next.

I don’t believe that when God closes a door He opens a window – my God and His plans for me are so big that a window is too small of an opening to access His incredibly awesome path for my life.  Same goes for you.  Never settle for the window – always use the door.

And while endings aren’t always easy, they are always beginnings.  It’s not to say that the unknown isn’t overwhelming and scary – it is – but instead of fearing the unknown, feel welcomed into a new, hope filled life and anticipate only GREAT things awaiting you.

Oh, and if you know of any awesome jobs, send them my way.  In the words of my friend Ginny, “I’m kind of a big deal.”  Here’s to shameless plugs and welcome mats!

 

P.S. Here’s the links to the blogs I mentioned earlier: 

Melissa Brotherton: http://melissabrotherton.com/2011/06/30/allow-me-to-reintroduce-myself/?utm_source=feedburner

Five Minute Fridays (a.k.a. Gypsy Mama): http://thegypsymama.com/2011/07/five-minute-friday-welcome/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+thegypsymama+%28thegypsymama%29

 

 

 

Days Go By

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It’s that time of week again! Five Minute Friday! Today’s theme is “Every Day”. So now, in the words of Ryan Seacrest: “Dim the lights. Here we go.”

I’ve found that every day I think about the past, present and future. When I get up in the morning I think about the day ahead, I think about my present need for a shower, and then I think about how lovely it was to be in bed asleep just a few minutes ago. See? I think about it every day.

I also think about where my life is going. Knowing that my job will be ending at the end of this month (without any new job prospects), my future seems so blank and unclear. I feel both fear and excitement as I think about that. After contemplating the future, I think about the present. I think about how I’m so grateful for the past that led to this present. The last time I was laid off, I was just about to begin my master’s program and have some of the greatest experiences of my life. Uncertainty is pretty awesome… when you’re finally able to look at it retrospectively.

So even though my every day is currently consumed by thinking about the future and its uncertainty, my present day reminds me how God’s goodness, His provision, and His love for me will lead me to good things. Every day then is a day of thanks. I’m thankful for my past (mistakes and all), thankful for my present (another day of being able to breathe and remembering to enjoy the moment), and thankful for a future that is filled with good things as I continue to trust that, as God promises, “I have given you a hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11. Every Day He was with me, Every Day He is with me, and Every Day He will be with me.

Eye Of The Tiger

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One upon a time, in a land far, far away, I had a gym membership. At the beginning of my membership, I had three sessions with a personal trainer – she was brutal, but fortunately not so much that I would lose my faith in exercise (she was, however, brutal enough that I would lose feeling in my entire body).

Somewhere in the midst of my on again, off again relationship with “gym”, I agreed to go to a shadowboxing class of sorts with my friend. Considering how well I did on my Wii Fit game, I was sure this was going to be easy breezy. Wrong.

We ran across the room, squatted, and did an assortment of activities my body rejects. Halfway through the class (at least I hope I got that far) I couldn’t handle it anymore and I jetted out of the workout room and headed straight towards the women’s locker room… as fast as my lifeless legs would allow, anyway.

Yes, I admit I hid in shame as my friend successfully finished her workout. Of course, it wasn’t without consequence as I was surrounded by some ladies with dewy skin and no shame. I’ll leave it at that.

The second worse part about waiting in that locker room is that I knew I’d have to explain to my friend about why I bolted. I knew she wouldn’t care and wouldn’t judge me for leaving, but I felt like I needed to provide some valid excuse for my actions even if it meant making a false claim that all those years of smoking finally caught up with me (God as my witness, these lips have never touched a cigarette). Fortunately, it never came to that and, as it turns out, the only person I ended up making excuses to was myself.

Unfortunately, this has been a pattern in my life. There are some things I’m able to persevere through that are extremely difficult; my masters degree alone is proof of my ability to push through difficult tasks. But sometimes I tend to throw in the towel if what I’m trying to accomplish takes just that extra amount of effort that I don’t want to give.

The silver lining of this horrible “quirk” of mine is that when it comes to the things in life that require serious effort (i.e., relationships, jobs, etc.), I can run the race just fine. But when it comes to stuff like consistent workouts or other things that would benefit me physically or personally, I just kind of lose it. For whatever reason, I just can’t seem to keep my head in the game.

If that’s not bad enough, I discovered something even worse this week: I’ve sorta lost my will to fight. It’s one thing to lose it in the middle of the game – at least you tried. But to not try and to not want to try, that’s even worse.

As I write this blog, I can’t say that I got the fight back in me. I do, however, have the awareness that I lost it and now I want it back. I know I’m a fighter. I know I have the kind of tenacity to knock down whatever challenge comes my way – I just haven’t been brave enough to step back in the ring. But now that I’m aware of the lethargy I was living in, I’m finally thirsty for the fight and I’m ready to tape up my fists.

It’s sometimes hard to even reach that point especially when life throws all kinds of crud your way. I mean, I still can’t even grasp what kind of emotional rubble the Midwest is trudging through as they’ve seen lives lost and communities wiped out by these tornadoes. I don’t know about you, but if I were there I would just feel like curling into a ball and letting all the tragedy wash over me.

But I’m sure what any survivor of any tragedy knows is that the only way to survive in the aftermath is to just pick yourself up and keep going so you can move forward. You gotta fight to do it, but it’s a fight worth fighting and a fight that CAN be won.

So whatever life throws at you (even if it’s apathy you’re battling), get up and fight. You owe it to yourself and to the world you live in to do everything you can to be the best version of yourself and then help others do the same.

And on that note, it’s time to put on my hoodie and fedora and get to hitting some beef. Figuratively speaking. I think.