And So I Prayed.

 I need to talk about God for a minute.  If you don't want to hear about it, or read it, stop here and move on.  

I have been drawn to people with a strong, solid faith in God lately. Let me explain.  I'm not inviting door knockers in for tea.  I am reading things that people have written in their most raw, vulnerable places and are still reaching for God.  I am reading their anger and their emotions and their “how could you do this to me", and all of the screams of “what am I supposed to be learning!?" and still, call on God.  I am reading of quiet whispers and tear filled pain.  I am hearing pleading and praising... and prayer.  My soul aches for that connection.  

And so, I started praying.  A lot.  I pray, I chat with God, and the Universe and all of the people I hope are standing behind me or in front of me, or walking beside me.  When I feel lost, or alone, or wonder what in the hell I am supposed to be learning  - I pray.  I have been praying every single day.  I have returned to an internal gratitude practice, thanking, in my prayers, God, for the things at my feet and for the doors that become opened to me when I questioned my path and it's direction.  I am daily dumbfounded with the moments of realization of why this or that thing did or didn't happen.  

I want to clarify (if only for myself?).  I still don't believe in the Jesus story.  I just can't get behind it.  I don't believe in the single solitary Son of God sent to save us from sin.  I believe in creation and science and evolution and more than ever, I believe in God given purpose, a greater plan, and lessons.  Also, in a side theory - if I am wrong at the end of my days and I am standing in the glory of my maker and he smirks (as I know would happen) and says - “you were wrong - meet Jesus", that I will be forgiven and loved regardless of my existence in an ever curious and questioning soul.  I believe in God, and that he is the sole soul creator. 

Once upon a time, on Tuesday, I walked with my husband down the hall of the General Hospital, and when we reached the cariology unit, I had to kiss him goodbye and let some random nurse take him away from me, behind doors where I couldn't go.  I had to trust, essentially, that she, and a cardiologist and a team of other very brilliant God-like people wouldn't break him and leave me in pieces.  I walked away from that unit, and down the hall in tears... and I prayed. Every single time my foot hit a square on the floor, I prayed. Hard.  It sounded like this: “don't you dare take him from me.  Don't you dare. I can't even breathe right now... don't you dare." 

Lesson: You cannot just come to God when you need something and not sound like a petulant child (thank you Erin Napier for these words).  And here I was, sitting at God's door step, tears in my hands, stomping my feet in fury, but begging for mercy.  I have been reading things like God Is On The Bathroom Floor, Nightbirde, but I do not want to find him there.  Not right now.  

A cardiologist stopped my husband's heart.  And then, he restarted it.  Normal rhythm.  For now. 

That night, I laid in bed with my hand on the print that was left by electricty entering his body.  Breathing deep and barely steady, I said thank you a million times for the warmth beside me.  I served up all the gratitude for the lonlienss that evaded me.  I laid there and prayed for a million more nights and gave gratitude for even this one. 

That's what a prayer to God sounds like... Please, please, please... why, why, why... thank you, thank you, thank you.   Every. Single. Day. 

“...one thing I know for sure is this: He can never say that He did not know me.

I am God’s downstairs neighbor, banging on the ceiling with a broomstick. I show up at His door every day. Sometimes with songs, sometimes with curses. Sometimes apologies, gifts, questions, demands. Sometimes I use my key under the mat to let myself in. Other times, I sulk outside until He opens the door to me Himself. 

I have called Him a cheat and a liar, and I meant it. I have told Him I wanted to die, and I meant it. Tears have become the only prayer I know. Prayers roll over my nostrils and drip down my forearms. They fall to the ground as I reach for Him. These are the prayers I repeat night and day; sunrise, sunset. 

Call me bitter if you want to—that’s fair. Count me among the angry, the cynical, the offended, the hardened. But count me also among the friends of God. For I have seen Him in rare form. I have felt His exhale, laid in His shadow, squinted to read the message He wrote for me in the grout: “I’m sad too.””

This is the connection I am working on.  It's a work in progress.  I am praying.  The more I ask why and listen to the small voices, the more I hear answers and know there is a plan.  Gratitude has tamped my path to a greater purpose.  I see hints of it in the people around me, in the experinces I am having, in the decisions being made, in the lessons being learned.  I am praying in the quiet spaces and the loud places, I am whispering and yelling and laughing and crying, and I am finding God.  

I started praying again.  It seems though, that he never stopped listening.  

When Does It All Get Better?

 "When you get tired - you stop being fucking nice. When you are exhausted and overwhelmed...you.stop.being.nice."  (~ Dr. Jody Carrington ~ just this morning, FB live) "I just don't have a lot left in the tank for a lot of people". 

You know what, Jody... me too.  Me. Fucking. Too. 

I am tired.  The world is fucking tired.  My husband will tell me I shouldn't cuss when I write... But seriously - FUCK.  Kindness is lacking. Patience has been had, and the cup is empty. It is taking everything for us to function daily, never mind with compassion and kindness.  I am constantly feeling like I am waiting with baited breath for a world catastrophe or some life altering event to be thrown at my feet.  I have done my best to turn off the news, to put down my phone, to avoid the social media arguments and comments about what is real and what is not real, and what is a cover for this thing or that thing.   I have done my absolute best to remain kind, and calm and reasonable.  I have checked on my friends and my people, and extended myself so far making sure everyone else is okay. 

But - let me tell you what.  I am tired.  I am struggling.  The thing about having big shoulders, being a "fixer", and spending a life time being the go-to and the rational level-headed, stable being - is people forget that THAT JOB IS FUCKING HARD. It's hard on a regular day, but during an 18th month span of a global pandemic, being an owner of a small business just trying to make it, making sure my people are safe and well, and retain my own sanity?  Come on!  

I started to question things in my exhaustion. Business, relationships, friendships. I mean, don't we all?  Am I alone here? ( I know I am not).  The emotions, the sensitivity, the personal rules, the tolerance, the understanding, the patience, all of the things - are harder.  And as Dr. Carrington says, "when you get tired, you stop being nice".  Yep.  Being nice right now is epically hard.  

Here's some truths for you - some raw, hard, unadulterated truths: 

1.  I am tired of one-way friendships.  You know what?  I'm a great fucking friend.  I check on my people, I help when I can.  I bring the coffee, I plan the visits.  I do the things.  Honestly, there are times I fumble, and I catch myself flaking out of things - rescheduling, not showing up, but I am VERY aware of it, and usually, I correct it quickly.  I do what I can with what I've got.  I will usually give everything I have - physically and emotionally.  If I know you are struggling with something, I will make the call.  I will offer up an ear, maybe even helpful advice (lord knows I've been through some shit and learned some valuable things along the way).  I will be the friend that shows up, whatever you need that to look like.  Right now, I can count on one hand the number of friends that I can say the same of.  I don't even think I need all the fingers.  I have spent a great deal of the past few years knowing that I expect too much of people.  I live by the golden rule - and honestly, I truly felt more people did as well.  I was wrong.  I live in a world of takers and I am tired.  Daily I put less and less effort into people who can't be bothered to reciprocate the friendship extended to them nor practice gratitude for the kindness and effort involved.  Does that sound pretentious? Like "the sun never says to the Earth, 'you owe me'" - I know, but Jesus... If you can't be bothered to participate in the returned kindness of friendship... Be a better human, you know?  Check on your "friends", put forth some god damn effort - or have less of them, I guess.  I don't even know anymore.  

 2.  Business is hard.  Hubs and I own a small business.  This does not mean (now buckle up kids, this may be shocking for some of you) that we have a fuck-tonne of money.  You know what it means?  It means that we work really fucking hard to make something successful.  It means sometimes, we work 17 hour days and get up and do it again over and over and over.  It means that sometimes, we don't get paid because some other bill takes priority or something else needs to be fixed, or some god damn pandemic has put limitations on what you can do, or sell, or when you can do or sell it, or who can come to participate in the business you have worked so hard to be able to offer to people.  It means that sometimes we work seven days a week for months, and then take a vacation for a few weeks and get judged because of it, not congratulated for deserving it. People expect us to support their small business but, again, it is not often reciprocated.  That's life.  We get it.  But if you are one of these people - stop it.  If you are going to Wal-Mart instead of the farmers market right now for your vegetables, or have your hand out for your organization's donation, but wouldn't otherwise cross the door way, think twice about how willing a small business will be in return.  If I am supporting your small business, but the support is one way, it won't last long.  Trust me. I am a HUGE supporter of small business, crafters, makers, entrepreneurs who SUPPORT EACH OTHER. 

3.  I will always celebrate my people.  I don't care if you don't like them, or me celebrating my people makes you feel, in some way, inadequate about your people.   I will not shrink my joy to accommodate you.  The end.  

4.  Yes, I expect you to be nice - whomever you are.  Even if I don't know you, and you are reading this, know, that if I see you on the street, and I smile to extend kindness, I expect you to be fucking nice.  I know this has become a detrimental fault of my own personality - but how sad is that? If I didn't ask for your opinion, I expect you to keep it to yourself.  If the world didn't ask for your opinion - same, same.  There are times we all want to be heard, but there are only select times when the right people are listening. Choose wisely. 

5.  I watched a flashbacks episode of The Voice last night - and it made me incredibly sad.  Here's why - people were embracing in joy.  Hugging in pure elation to celebrate success and genuine emotion, and as I watched that, I instantly missed it.  The act of sharing joy where humans embraced.  I miss the intimacy of human love and connection.  Truth: I never stopped hugging my people over this time of pandemic.  You can judge me, it's okay, I will understand your point if you do.  But please know, some people, are not capable of shutting every single point of human contact off, and your judgement, just like your opinion, is not always welcome. 

I'm tired.  You're tired.  The whole fucking world is tired.  I am an advocate of talking. If you are dealing with something and need help, reach out.  If you have something to say, say it, just be fucking nice about it.  Keep your judgement and opinion to yourself, exude kindness when you can, and when you can't, stay home.  Find some quiet, find some peace. Connect with your people in whatever way soothes your soul. Give what you can, but don't forget to take care of yourself first - because no one else is going to.  

Try to be a good human. Even when it's hard. 

J

Hiraeth

I am afraid.  And sad.  I was once told never to use happy, sad, glad, mad when I write, but the depth of this sadness can't be well described. 

What happened to this world we live in in just six short months?  It seems to me that it's gone to straight to hell in a hand basket leaving nothing but destruction in it's wake.  It's terrifying and to the depths of my soul, I am weakened, and often lead to be searching for a word for it. 

Common sense has left the building.  Humanity has been altered.  People can no longer have a safe conversation about things that concern them.  Opinions are headstrong, and opposition is not met with reasonable consideration.  People stopped touching.  People stopped embracing.  Humans have retreated to a mentality so old and stuck in places, I fear there is no peaceful return.  

Hatred is as rampant as the virus that stopped the world.  

I have an acquaintance that currently feels very strongly about many of the issues presented in the media for the people to be considering.  They take a stand about their opinion and then confidently state "if you don't agree with me, we can't be friends", or "delete me from you media applications as I cannot tolerate your opinion".   THIS IS WHAT IS WRONG!  Your opinion may not be correct or superior just because you believe it to be so, or intend goodness.  Your choice is to have feelings regarding a situation, but it also your choice to be isolating people and forcing them to agree with you using emotional blackmail and fear tactics.  STOP IT.  

In 1962, John Diefenbaker spoke in an address in regards to the Canadian Bill of Rights:

“I am a Canadian, free to speak without fear, free to worship in my own way, free to stand for what I think right, free to oppose what I believe wrong, or free to choose those who shall govern my country. This heritage of freedom I pledge to uphold for myself and all mankind.”
― John G. Diefenbaker

There is an option to simply disagree and carry on with your life being a good person with good intentions without degrading other humans for their opinion.  It is possible to be good, to do good, to make a difference just by being good and embracing the freedoms we have in this country for EVERYONE. 

I'd like to share with you some of MY freedoms and opinions that have surfaced in the last six months.

1.  Love whomever you want.  Be heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, pansexual (whatever the heck that is - who creates these titles anyways?).  Be you.  Love.  BUT while you sort out your own sexuality and identity, do not hang onto people with falsity.  Do not hurt other humans with your choices.  Also - refrain from becoming trapped in a popularity contest to appear to be someone you truly aren't.  You do not need to accept a title, role, or way of being just because the media told you to.  Be who you are. Be genuine.  Love. 

2.  Please stop projecting your fears on other people.  

• If you are in fear of virus or illness - please do yourself a favor and stay home.  Wear your mask, physical distance, do what you feel is necessary.  I do not choose these things - this does not make me evil or wrong or uneducated.  I choose to accept a life that involves in smiles, and embraces, and physical closeness.  I choose to respect your boundaries, and I practice practical sense.  I promise not to lick you.  I will not succumb to media produced fear.  That is my choice.  
• Stop creating names for people who do not align with your current beliefs/opinions/thoughts/actions.  Stop speaking with hatred. 
• Life is scary - I don't require your reminder. 
• Be open minded and remember to think for yourself.  It was a gift given to you that often goes unused. 

3.  All lives matter.  I refuse to separate that by race.  That doesn't mean I don't understand the urgency of societal movements.  It means I choose to respect all humans and when you are crying out for your mother in your last hours because of injustice and society - I will stand behind you as a HUMAN.  Not as a white human respecting your alternate race, not as a woman respecting you as a man, AS A HUMAN.  For the love of all things good, can we please get over the color of someone's exterior, dismantle superiority entirely, and stop killing each other?  

4.  I will never accept rioting and violence as protest.  I do not agree that protests create change.  I will not apologize for that.  I will agree that education, action and well intentioned great leaders will change the world.  

5.  I will always choose kindness, even when the people around me do not.  I do believe more people should learn this. 

6.  I will never let anyone decide the following things for me: 

• my worth
• my reactions
• the people I chose to include in my life and the people I do not
• my opinions, my beliefs, my free will.

7.  All things today come with a history. ALL THINGS WITHOUT EXCEPTION.  History is a necessary learning tool for growth, progression, failure, success, and forward movement.  We should all be learning constantly from past experience - personally, socially, politically, globally.  Not all things were created with poor intentions in their time, so instead of projecting shame, encourage growth and forward movement.  Do not become loud and offensive over something like a character on syrup or a team name created a centruy ago, but agree with the necessity for change and be grateful for social forward movement.  Anger and hatred is not the answer especially when it's a reaction.  

I am a white Canadian woman.  I have struggled in my life, but I am very aware of my privilege.  I come from a good family with years and years of changing and progressing opinions.  I have learned my strength and my confidence.  I choose kindness, and easily become gutted by people who do not.  I am tired of this hate filled world and long for some sort of peace - and when I find peace in the embrace of one of my people, there is not a wild train that could drag me from it.  I wish more people could feel that way. 

Our world has changed so much, and I fear not for the return to normal, but for what has become the acceptance of how we are living.  

J

Hiraeth - a longing for home you can't return to or one that was never yours. 

I am the Sun.

I've been reading a lot of powerful books lately.  I mean - A LOT.  They are books of powerful women, and stories about powerful choices, and truly being a powerhouse.  I used to feel like a powerhouse.  Lately not so much, and I when I looked at it, about the whys and hows, it turns out, I'm not used to not being a powerhouse. 

Here's how I used to define my power - work, success, praise. Work, success, praise.  Power.  Work, success, praise. Power.  It's been two years since I've had a "regular job.  It's been two years since we jumped feet first into a business that was, at the time, less than mediocre.  It needed love and attention, and all the results of that were not immediate, are not immediate.  Work.  Not immediate  success, no praise.  It's an adjustment that I didn't even realise until recently when Kevin asked me "do you like doing this?  Do you miss working at a regular job?"

Wow... do I miss my regular job?  Yes!  (I just heard all of your roll your eyes from here.  I get it, believe me, I do.  I just rolled my own eyes.)  My days, two years ago, had a routine.  Get up early, go to work, work at something I know, or atleast can work toward knowing and be good at it.  Actually, not just be good at it, be the best at it.  It what I have done for YEARS.  When I started working service at a dealership, I knew nothing about service.  I worked hard to not just know, but be the best at it.  I became one of the best service advisors in the face of being a girl in a man industry.  I wanted it.  I needed to prove them all wrong, and when someone dared to say I couldn't do it, I was defiant and did it better than anyone else - whatever it was.  I had a fuck-you attitude and it worked for me.  I carried that with me for years.  I took it to an admin job, that didn't satisfy me, so I made someone realize that I was better and climbed a ladder quickly, working with some amazing people who taught me a lot along the way.  And as they did, they metaphorically patted me on the head and told me what I good girl I was.  And I liked it.  A lot.  Work, success, praise.  Power. 

For the past two years, I've been working.  Working at a different pace, at a different genre, at a different gig.  I've been trying to love it.  Hell, some days I've been trying to like it.  Work, work, work.  Farm, harvest, create, sell.  I have traded in my definition of success for building without any warning to my subconscious!  How dare I!  I traded in success and praise.  Work, success, praise, power was no more, and I JUST realized it.  There is no more pat on the head.  There is no more "atta girl".  It's just building and work and waiting. 

I miss my job.  I miss the clinic, and the girls, and the people and dammit I miss the pat on the head.  I used to demand it when I did something good, ask my last boss, he'll tell you!  I would open his door and say "who's a good girl, tell me I'm good, pat me on my head".  And he would laugh at the preposterousness of it, and humor me and say "atta girl".  I miss feeling powerful. 

So here's where the books come in.  I've been choosing books, subconsciously, looking for way to find my power.  I've been reading self help books that I find self deprecating and annoying and then feeling empty when I am done them because I'm not fulfilled and inspired.  What the actual fuck?  Why didn't that mooooooooove me? 

Here's why.  I know I am great.  I just need to be reminded that I am the sun.  If you get this - sweet Jesus, thank God for you because I don't want to explain it.  If you don't get it, please get familiar with Cristina Yang and Merideth Grey and read Year of Yes.  I am the sun.  

I am the sun.  Praise. Power. 

Here's the thing.  I don't want to have to call on Shonda Rhimes every damn time I need a reminder. I mean, I've sort of made it my mantra.  I repeat it in my head A LOT - I am the sun.  But I need something to remind me in my own words, and here I sit trying to sort out how to pat myself on the head or figuring out what is going to get me to the point of self praise now - where I can sit back and say "I did that.  Look at that.  It's magnificent.  Atta girl."  and pat my head.  Power.  Satisfaction.  Joy.

I thought to myself, if I sit down and write down words I want to hear to get my mojo going, are they going to think I am conceited?  Are they going to tell me how much better I think I am? Are they going to tell me again that I have no right to feel awesome?  Again?  That's right, you heard me.  You know who I'm talking about.  Those people who are intimidated by a woman knowing she's kickass and secure and powerful and not afraid to say it.  Well sistas, haven't we spent enough time in the land of self deprecation?  You (or maybe I say to myself) say I can't?  Fuck you.  I'm powerful.  I eat it for breakfast.  I am great.  I can, and I will, and when I do, I'll pat my head and say "atta girl".  Work, success, praise. Power. Joy.

I can.  I am powerful.  I am brilliant.  I am capable.  I will.  I will not fail, or if I do, I will do it again, and that's okay.  I will do it.  I will find a way.  I am powerful.  I am strong.  I am determined.  I will decide. I am powerful.  I am enough.  I AM THE SUN.

Atta girl.

Today my thing was going to the gym.  It's reeeeeeeeal easy not to go.  It's not easy to see the results of going without going.  But the opposite is true - it's easy to see the results of not going just as easily.  I don't like to talk about going to the gym because people eye roll.  They say "I don't do gyms,", or "I don't have time", or "I don't like people watching me" and they diminish my decision to go, to be better, to work at being healthy.  Well I don't like being fat.  And I want arms like that powerful girl I just saw in that movie.  I want that power.  So I'm going to the gym, and if your answer isn't "atta girl", then keep it to yourself.  I went to the gym today and spent one hour and forty two minutes being sweaty and at times doubting if I could do it.  I did it.  And tomorrow I'll do it again, and maybe it won't be as painful.  I did it - work, success, praise. Atta girl. 

I am the God Damn Sun.  And I need to never forget that.  You need to never forget that. You are the sun.  The sun.

Power.

Joy.

Atta girl.

Smiling Eyes

I used to be very concerned about the lines around me eyes.  I've bought creams and lotions, I've tried scrubs and serums.  Truth is, my skin is pretty great, and I am very blessed, and I am rounding 44. 

And in the words of my momma - who is rarely wrong when it comes to these sorts of things - "you know you wouldn't have those lines if you didn't smile so much..."  True Story.

At Least I Wasn't Wearing That Dress

So the funk... It's still lingering.  I still have very little motivation despite the stacks of paper on my desk.  But yesterday, I felt the break.  I knew when it cracked.  I felt it.  And do you want to know what did it?  The Golden Globe Red Carpet. 

I know, right? 

Years ago, I started watching the Red Carpet for all the events - Golden Globes, Emmy's and the Oscars... ohhh the Oscars. It's the biggest, the brightest and the best.  I didn't watch it alone, of course.  This was always a Sunday with mom.  We'd watch for the dresses, the outfits and the stars.  The whos who of the whos who.  What's she wearing, who's he with, and did she just fall UP the stairs?  It makes me gloriously happy.  I don't really care about the awards at all. I just want to see what she wore...

Last night, I was wallowing in it, still.  Let's be honest.  It's just gross.  Like, dude, go outside.  But no... the couch held me.  I turned it on without knowing it was on.  E-Live! At the Red Carpet!  Yes!!!    My soul jumped a little.  I know it's weird, you don't need to tell me.  I gawked at the dresses, I gasped at the feathery suit.  I wanted that necklace... and then, I texted my mom. 

Suddenly it was like she was sitting right with me as we gawked and ewwwed.  And the lonliness was a little less.  And then my phone buzzed and Dana said "ummm did you just see what that dress..." 

Well, yes I did.  And I laughed.  Across two provinces, from three little towns, we watched the Red Carpet Glamor and gushed over Scarlett Johanson, and wondered what Gwenyth Paltrow was thinking, and is that half a dress Carrie Washington was wearing?  Are those Beyonce's boobs in her sleeves?  What is going on?  This year may have been the year of the most ridiculous dresses and I cannot wait for the Oscars! 

I guess what I'm saying is, I've been a little blue in all this grey here in the snow.  There's a bit of funk in the air.  There's busy times, and some adjusting to do.  There's the settling still and the figuring out, and the planning and the year ahead.  It's been a bit of a time for our souls ( I hear you loud and clear friends and I love you all so much)... But... at least, we didn't have to wear that dress. In public. 

It's going to be better. Hang on, you can do it.  I love you.

J

Outside Of the Winners Circle

So often, we tell about painful periods of our life from the winners circle. It’s not very often that anyone tells a tale from the vulnerable, raw parts of their soul, sharing the hurt, the pain, the real parts that happen in life to get the part where we are supposed to grow and learn.

Well this is one of those days for me - not in the winners circle. Guess what, friends? Not all my days are spent in the winners circle. Shocker, hey? I bet not all of yours are either - and it’s from that place, whatever the opposite of the winners circle is, that I find myself sitting smack dab in the middle of.

I’ve been staring in the mirror lately at someone I don’t recognize, someone I don’t like very much, and frankly someone I despise. I am angry - All. The. Time. I am spent. I am exhausted. I am irritable, and listless and voiceless. I feel needy and unsure. I am sad and anxious and frankly lost in my days. My motivation is zero. My ambition took a hike and left me behind. I feel like a shitty partner, a questionable parent, a terrible friend, and a weak individual. Weak. I am in pain. I feel so much less of myself than I have in so, so long. I don’t know how to fix where I am, and I am scared.

For a long time now, I’ve been asking myself just how long the rope is, because I’ve been at the end of it for so long, just tying knots trying to hang on to whatever is left. Everywhere I look there is so much brokenness, and I am fighting to see the beauty in the days. Where did my optimism go? How did the monsters get back in - those ones that tell such convincing lies? And how was I so easily convinced of what they said?

The truth is, it happens. It’s a bad week. It started six days ago and the let up is taking a bit longer this time. But all I can know for sure is, that I hope it will - let up, I mean. And it’s in that hope that I tie another knot.

I want you to know something. I feel like shit right now. Maybe you do too. A few days ago I asked some people if they'd remembered anything I'd written, anything that was particularly memorable, or something relatable. Turns out the answer was yes, and one of the things people said is that I wasn't afraid to be raw and talk about it. So here we are, talking about it, and I hope, maybe it helps someone other than me just to put some heavy words down.

But there’s something that I have learned through the struggle of the moving forward - it doesn’t last. The Universe will unfold its plan, you just have to have a little faith in it. In my struggle this morning, I was reading - ultimately surprising, I know - and these words LITERALLY appeared on my screen and I thought - holy shit, that’s for me… (I’m not joking… on my screen, and then the little “read more” button, and I did).

One more time, for my people in the back, you are nothing less.

Your heart loves so deeply that most can’t even find the bottom.

I know because mine does, too.

It takes one to know one.

It was gifted the ability to see what could be instead of what is.

It’s a gift.

To see beauty in a world that is surrounded with brokenness.

To love even the unworthy.

To hope amidst the pain.

You are not weak.

~Jenna Irvin~

I still can’t read it without crying today. I’ll probably read it every single day until I can. I might put it on my wall for a bit so I can read it a thousand times. The Universe unfolds itself. I have faith in it. Jenna Irvin shouted it from the Winners Circle.

I heard it loud and clear. I hope you can too. It’ll be better. Just not today. Maybe tomorrow.

You are not weak, and I love you.


J