everyone has a battle to fight

How many times have you said "Oh, I am doing great!" only to break down the very next day in despair? You feel as though you had lied to others, and yourself. You thought you were okay. When in reality, were you really? You begin to doubt yourself. Your feelings. Everything you believe in and stand for. Perhaps after all this time you actually don't know what is right any more. Then, through the darkness a light shines upon you.

He hath delivered my soul in peace from the battle that was against me: 

for there were many with me. 

Psalm 55:18

Each person fights their own battles, every single day. Battles of fear. Anxiety. Depression. Trust. Hurt. Pain, physically and emotionally. 

for there were many with me. 

This past year has been a crazy ride for me. I became engaged, planned a wedding, married, and moved away from my home. The home I loved with every ounce of me. The home I had not wanted to leave. I ached for home. I questioned God for taking me so far away. I couldn't see why He did it. What was His plan? What did He want from me? What does He want from me?

Be merciful unto me, O God: for man would swallow me up; he fighting daily oppresseth me. Mine enemies would daily swallow me up: for they be man that fight against me, O thou most High. 

Psalm 56:1-2

David wrote these words in a different time and place. But God allowed them to be recorded that His children may read them and understand. Understand that they are not alone. That every one has battles they must fight. Battles that they can not fight alone. 

I married my best friend. I have a place to call my own. I can cook my husband meals. Clean for him. Wash his clothes. I have someone to hold me when I am sad and laugh with me when I am happy. 

Yet, I wanted more. I know from the outside you may look and think "I'd give anything to be in your place. Married and content." But the sad truth is, I am still a human. Yes, my dream came true yet I still wasn't content. I believe we never will be. But, you know what? We shouldn't be.
We should be thankful and grateful for what we have. But we should not put our trust in it. 

This world is not my home. I'm just a passing through. My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue. The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door and I can't feel at home in this world anymore. 

The past two days were very hard for me. I was lonely. And with that came great anger. Anger that spilled out and caused me to fear. As I cried I remember saying, "I feel as though God has left me." 

I knew it was wrong to feel so much anger. I wanted to let it go. Yet, I didn't know how. I felt as though no matter how much I prayed, the anger still returned. I'd be okay for a while but it would find a way to creep back inside. 

If you know me personally, you know I thrive on others emotions. If someone is sad or stressed, so am I. I read people very easily and take on any emotion they are feeling. I want to make every thing okay but I know I can't. That then turns to fear and anxiety. 

 "Stop saying money! It's a filthy disgusting word!" 

- P.L Travers / Saving Mr. Banks

Amen to that, Mrs. Travers! 

Money has been, and has always been, my number one stress causer. 

Growing up, money wasn't something we had much of. I watched my parents struggle to pay the bills and put food on the table. As I said before, I thrive on others emotions. I could sense when things would get tighter and I would lay awake at night and worry. Why? It didn't fix anything. Yet, I still did it. I would feel guilt for not being able to do something about it. 

Despite that, my childhood memories are for the most part, happy ones. I had a great childhood. With loving parents and not so loving siblings. (Just kidding! We love each other, in a "sit on your head and annoy you" kind of way). Or perhaps I was just the annoying sibling? *shrugs*

My parents taught me to be thankful for what you have. Work hard and always put others before yourself. That money didn't matter. Love was all you needed to get through life. God always provided and He always will. 

I knew all this.

It wasn't until I married and took on my own bills that I realized how much I relied on the idea of having money. 

I worry a lot about tomorrow. I want my future children to have everything they need. To not worry weather or not we'll have food on the table. I want lots of land. A cute little farmhouse. A barn with animals. And little ones to run and play in the great outdoors. Loving and laughing with no hurts or fears. 

I wanted it so badly that I began focusing on how I could make that dream happen today. I didn't want to struggle so badly that I would stress when an unexpected expense would happen. 

Money. I need more money. 

I broke down and cried. Cried for all the dreams I have that are so out of reach. For fear that they never would happen. I would never get home. I would never have my little farm with toddlers and puppies. I was angry. So angry. I cried until my tears flowed no more before drifting off to sleep. 

The next morning I awoke to puffy eyes and needing to clean my Grandma's. I dabbed on some make-up, swallowed more tears, and made my way down the road. Then my heart began to open up and I prayed like I've never prayed before.

I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD.

Psalm 27:13-14

I poured my heart out on that cold winter morning. I told God about my anger. How I didn't understand His will. I told Him my worries and fears and dreams. I asked Him to help me lose that anger. To replace it with peace and joy. Oh how I long for peace. 

I told Him how I felt abandoned. As though my world as I had known it was crumbling beneath my feet. My church. My state. My family. My mind. 

And on that road He told me something. 

He told me that I had been putting my trust in something physical. Something that can't save my soul or come with me to Heaven. Only He is constant. Yesterday, today, and forever. 

Trust ye in the LORD for ever: for in the LORD JEHOVAH is everlasting strength.

Isaiah 26:4

Everlasting. Eternity. Always. 

Money is not everything. Yes, it will pay the bills and buy nice things, but is that what life is about? Is that why God created this world? That we may have nice things for a short time? 

God has always provided. I have never gone without food on my table. Maybe it was a small amount. Perhaps it was the same thing you had for breakfast and lunch. But, it was food. It was there. It filled your belly and kept you happy. 

I was longing for stability. To live a life of no worries. But, that isn't life is it?

That's Heaven. 

There's a place in the clouds where the sun always shines. Where the love and the laughter grow wild on the vines. Where there ain't any heartache and there ain't any pain. There's a place in the clouds where it's never gonna rain. 

- Joey+Rory

I prayed and asked God to help me live for today. To have joy for my husband. We have no promise of tomorrow. I want to live today to the fullest. Enjoy this time of our marriage. Just us. Learning together. Loving each other. Growing in each other and growing in Grace. 

I thanked Him for my blessings. 

An amazing Christ filled family who loves me for me.

A loving relationship between myself and all of my siblings. I have learned that not everyone is blessed this way. My siblings are my best friends. All four of them. 

I thanked Him for the very first time for giving me eleven years with my Grandma. Eleven short, but beautiful years. He taught me so much through that strong woman. 

I thanked Him for making my dreams come true. I have a partner in life. The best partner. 

I thanked Him for dying on the cross for me. 

I have failed every moment of my life. And I will continue to fail Him. But through Grace I am saved. He has forgiven all my faults. 

He promises to never ever leave my side. 

Though I felt abandoned, I hadn't been. He was always there. Quietly waiting for me to call for help. He reached out His hand and told me, I have never left Thee.

I was putting my trust in this world. What I could see and feel with my hands. But all this is nothing. It could all disappear tomorrow. 

Christ is here to stay.

comfort songs // on my replay list

As you know, I have recently been going through a very hard time emotionally, and honestly, spiritually.
These songs have been on replay every day, and oh the comfort they bring me.
I'll warn you ahead of time, most of them are by my favorite singer: Charley Pride.

Jesus, it's me again - Charley Pride

 

In Jesus' Name I Pray - Charley Pride

 

Take Time Out For Jesus - Charley Pride

 

Savior's Shadow - Blake Shelton

Peace in Christ - Claire Crosby

What do you listen to for comfort?

we are broken, we are bruised // thank Him

ok, folks. What is happening to us? What is happening to this world around me? When did we forget about thanking God for today, and instead cry for tomorrow? Why do we look back at everything we have lost and everything we have never had? Instead of breathing in a breath of thankfulness for today. For the blessings that we do have.

I know, I know. Perhaps life seems to throw you sour lemons. Perhaps you feel as though your life is far harder than anyone else. That God has abandoned you. He has forgotten what your needs are, and left you in the cold.
Perhaps, dear friends, it is you who has forgotten God.

Think of those in the past who suffered so much.
 John Newton.
Corrie Ten Boom.
Elizabeth Elliot.

They witnessed horrors far worse than we can imagine. Lost loved ones to the hands of another. Did unspeakable wrong.
And yet, every one of them fell to their knees and thanked the Lord above.

 I don't want to sound like I have it all figured out because, believe me, I don't. But through hard days, weeks of sadness, and years of fear, I have learned one thing.

GOD KNOWS BEST.

You might think,
"I have heard this every single day of my life. And it hasn't changed a thing. I still don't have what I want. I still lost too much. I still hurt." 

Do you know what? Life is pain. Life is hurt. Life is sorrow.

But, God is love. 
God is compassion.
God is forgiveness. 
God is healing.

Some days I feel so discouraged. I look around me and all I see is suffering. Depression and anxiety are on a rampage, devouring anyone they can touch. People turn to counseling, pills, and bed.
Whatever happened to, "Jesus paid it all"? Whatever happened to, "it is well with my soul".
Whatever happened to simply letting Jesus take our hand?

Yes, life is difficult, but we should be able to look past that. We should be able to lift our heads and say,
"Yes. I am broken. I am bruised. But, I am saved."
No, it is not always easy to do. For I know from experience, much is easier said than done. But that's our fault, not God's. Faith is simple.

JUST SIMPLY HAVE FAITH. 

Let God control your life. For, as you know, when you try to control it all you get is pain.
Faith comes by hearing. Hearing the word of God. Being around those who will encourage you. Not those who will make you feel worse than you already do. And do you know what? Sometimes, that person is you.
We are our harshest judge and the one we will never impress. We will always find flaws.

I heard a country singer speaking about her faith the other day. How she went through a hard time, and tried desperately to conceal it. Then she was given this advice.

"Let them see the brokenness. Let them see the cracks in your armour. That's how the light gets out." 

We are broken. We are bruised. But we are saved.
Tell the world that. Show them that, despite all of our hardships, despite all of our hurt, Jesus has washed our sins away, and we have a home in glory.

Don't try to be strong. Admit that you are weak. Admit it to yourself, and let Jesus carry the burden.
For that is how we show others the love of Christ. Showing them that we are not perfect, but our Savior is.

I'm standing in my Savior's shadow 

He is watching over me 

I feel the rain, I hear the thunder

As He cries for me

I'm standing in my Savior's shadow

Grace will lead to where I'm free

I take His hand, we walk together

And His light shines on me 

Though the devil tries to break me 

My sweet Jesus' won't forsake me

When I'm in my Savior's shadow

Where I'm suppose to be 

I'm standing in my Savior's shadow

Following His footsteps there

Every mountain, every ocean

He hears my every prayer

- Blake Shelton

God knows what we need. He truly does. And He provides it every single day. It's time we remembered that. It's time we stopped wondering why we are where we are, and simply thank Him.

Thank you for each breath in my lungs.
Thank you that I can walk and run.
Thank you that I can laugh.
Thank you that I can cry.
Thank you for always being right beside me. No matter how hard I try to push You away.

We are broken, we are bruised, but we are saved.

Thank Him.

what is marriage?

When you are young and single, the idea of marriage is romantic. 
You watch romantic movies about two people madly in love. Willing to risk everything to be with their other half. You heart feels all warm and you wonder, what would that feel like? What is it like to be held and loved and wanted?
When will it be my turn?
Love and marriage seems like an exciting and fun adventure. A mysterious adventure with a tall handsome prince riding on a white horse.


While marriage is all that (besides the white horse. I mean, who really has those these days?) I have learned through my short time as a wife, that it is something much deeper.
Much more special.

Even before becoming a Mrs, my eyes began opening to a whole new level of relationship.
As we spent much of our dating days apart, we did a lot of talking. And I mean, a lot. We would spend 6-10 hours a day Face-timing. Not all of it was spent talking, but much of it was.

We learned about one another, and began sharing things we had never told anyone else before.
Some good, some bad, but all of it brought us closer together.

Marriage is not butterflies and sparkles. 

Marriage is tears and pain.
Marriage is rewarding and beautiful.

Now, how can something that is painful, be beautiful?

Simple.

Through all that pain, comes joy. The nights spent crying on each others shoulders is bonding. It's sharing. It's growing.

Marriage is so much more than a pretty ring and a handsome husband.
It's a friend. A best friend. It's someone to share everything with. The good days and the hard days. The laughter and the tears.
It means encouraging one another when the other is down. It's holding them up when you see their knees beginning to buckle.
It's praying together, for each other. It's about forgiveness. It's about love.
True love.

Love that can stand up to the strongest wind.

I am not perfect. In fact, I am far from it. I fail much every single day. Yet, do you know what? Josiah loves me. And he forgives my flaws and loves my heart.

"Marriage is a picture of Christ and the church." 

How many times did I hear that saying? How many times did I nod in agreement, but not fully understanding what it meant?

Now, I believe I have been given a small glimpse of what it means. 

When I look at my husband, I see Christ.
 I see the love my Savior has for me.
Unconditional. Unfailing. Unwavering. 

Josiah loves me, but Christ loves me more.
Christ loves Josiah more than I ever could.
The thought of that is so humbling, for I have never felt so much love for one person in my entire life.
And each day, it only grows. When I think I have felt all I can feel, with just a smile my heart swells. When Josiah hurts, I want to take his burdens, and carry them for him. I want to hold his hand and never let go. Reassure him that I am right here, and I'm not going anywhere.

That's how Jesus feels about me. Only, He can take my burdens, and He can carry them for me.
He can reassure me. He isn't going anywhere. He's holding my hand, and He won't ever let go. 
How amazing.
How beautiful.

 So while marriage is exciting and fun, it is something much more than just that.

It is having a partner to walk beside you. Stumble together. Pick each other back up, and carry on.
Reminding one another that Jesus is the reason for life. Jesus died for you, He died for me, and He has washed our sins away. Through Him, we are white as snow.

It is crying and laughing. It is joy and it is pain.

When two people are kneeling below the cross, it is rewarding.
Each bump won't pull you apart, it will cause you to cling tighter.
Every time I have laid my head down beside my husband, and cried tears of sadness, my love has grown. It is such a special thing, and a bonding moment for you as a couple.

Marriage is a partnership. Marriage is someone to walk with and fall with.
A friend to worship our Savior with.

Someone who whispers "amen" right along with you.

Marriage, in all it's ways, is beautiful.

giving thanks this thanksgiving

Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say, Rejoice.
Let your moderation be known unto all men.

The Lord is at hand. Be careful for nothing; but in

every thing by prayer and supplication

with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.

Philippians 4: 4-6

God has truly blessed me my entire life. But this year my heart swells even more with thankfulness to my Jesus.

Family // My sisters. "The bro". Parents. Aunts. Uncles. Grandparents. All so special to me. They show me love and kindness every single day. Well... except sometimes sisters have tough days. *winks* but we always make-up so no worries there.

Mountains // they are in my blood. What can I say?

Food // when your stomach is full. You are in a much better mood. It is just a fact.

Music // I love my music. That, too, was poured into my blood when I was born. Both of my sides of the family are musical. Singing. Playing. It is just a part of who I am. I cherish my childhood memories of West family gatherings. Guitars. Pianos. Singing. Laughing.

Coffee // it's just too good. And so much fun to get on a date in the rain.

Josiah Karl // my best friend. my soul mate. my fiancé. my future husband. The one who completes me. Who loves me for who I am. Looks past my flaws. Makes me feel beautiful. Special. Wanted and needed.

Jesus // without my Savior, I am nothing. He saved my soul.

Happy Thanksgiving! Have a blessed day!

Glory Land // how thankful for Jesus I am

Many years I've been looking for a place to call home

But I fail here to find it, so I must travel on

I don't care for fine mansions on earths sinking sand

Lord, build me a cabin in the corner of Glory Land

Yes, build me just a cabin in the corner of Glory Land

In the shade of the tree of life that it may ever stand

So I can just hear the angels sing and shake Jesus' hand

Lord, build me a cabin in the corner of Glory Land

~

I was lost but Jesus saved me

He gave His life on Calvary's tree

Though I fail Him, He still loves me

Through His grace I've been set free

No I don't deserve a mansion

For I was born a sinful man

No I don't deserve a mansion

But Jesus built a home for me in Glory Land

It was our sins that He died for

For all mankind, He paid the price

Who are we that He should love us

Enough to give His life

No I don't deserve a mansion

For I was born a sinful man

No I don't deserve a mansion

But Jesus built a home for me in Glory Land

Some days I am so thankful for my Jesus, my eyes sting with tears. These two songs by my favorite male singer, Charley Pride, just hit the spot in my heart.

grandma // how beautiful Heaven must be

I am not sure why I am writing this entry. Or, where it will lead exactly.


Maybe because I have met someone very special. Maybe because a specific date in my past is approaching. A date that will be forever burned in my memory.


September 7, 2007.


The day Grandma went away.


Perhaps God is finally helping me grieve. Reminding me that it's okay to hurt and mourn. It's okay to cry. It's okay to feel. I am human, and humans are not perfect.
I never felt I had the right to grieve. I was just a granddaughter. Someone else hurt far more.
The recent weeks have been very trying. Emotionally and spiritually. Hidden feelings have been slowly trickling out into the open. Feelings I had locked deep inside myself. Refusing to acknowledge them. Memories I tried to forget. Memories of fear and pain.
But, also, memories of a simpler time in my life. A time of carefree childhood days.


On September 7, 2007, my world changed. In the blink of an eye everything was different.
I was just eleven years old. An eleven year old with fragile feelings and a close observing eye.
On that hot evening a soul was carried to Heaven. A place I couldn't imagine. A place where pain was no more. Where beautiful singing never ceases. Where the trials of this world are forgotten.


Where cancer isn't a word.

Grandma was just thirty-nine years old when I, her eldest granddaughter, entered the world. Six months along with her own baby, and another just three years old.
I grew up right alongside my two aunts, making memories and getting into all sorts of mischief. Grandma was ever present. Like my second mother. She sang to me. She gave me bathes and played with my toes.

"This little piggy went to the market. This little piggy stayed home."

"Rub a dub-dub. Three men in a tub. Who do you think they are?"


The last song always made me giggle, as usually it truly was three of us in a tub. Myself and the aunts. With soapy hair and wrinkled fingertips.


Grandma kissed me goodnight and hugged me hello. She scolded me when I was wrong, and comforted me when I was sad. Her smile could warm the cloudiest day, and some of my clearest memories as a little girl are of Grandma laughing.


She was a pillar in my world. Nothing could hurt Grandma. She was strong and wise. Oh to have the Faith of a child again.

Aunt Marissa, Grandma, and baby me

I will never forget the moment I first heard that word. cancer. I did not know then how powerful such a word was.


Seated in the back seat of the rig, we were headed home late that night after spending the evening at Grandpa and Grandma's. Mommy gently said, "Grandma is sick."
I will never forget my curious question. "Will I catch it? I kissed her goodbye."

Grandma was born sixty-one years ago on the plains of South Dakota. Her parents named her Nancy Elizabeth West, after her mother Clara Elizabeth, and was the fifth child to be born. Seven more would soon come after her. When she was just six years old, she left her home on the plains, and the family headed west. They settled in the beautiful majestic state of Washington, and there she stayed until she took her last breath and flew to Glory in Heaven.

Grandma grew up poor in a very musical family. Grandma herself never played an instrument, but she loved listening to those around her. She lived in an old Ford school bus and they traveled the roads picking for a living.  My great-Uncle's song says it better than I ever could. As he lived those days right beside my Grandma:

"I remember Papa in front of the fireplace.

Cheek full of 'tobacca', whiskers on his face.

His eyes were closed while his 'raws and bows' played "The letter edged in Black".

I've heard a lot of pretty songs, but nothing quite like that.

Mama sat next to the window in her rocking chair.

And listened to the music while the cool breeze teased her hair.

The long hard summer was well spent, the summer sun was gone.

And everyone was thankful that the picking was all done.

Cause we picked everything from a hazelnut to a plum.

We picked apples, beans, and berries in that summer sun.

And when the picking months were through and it was way down in the fall.

Heading home and back to school meant new shoes for us all.

Cause summer time meant picking beans for every one of us.

We'd pack our clothes and jump into that old Ford school bus.

And head out down the I5 Freeway, across the Oregon line.

And fill our bags with a hundred pounds of those good ole pole bean vines."

- O'Neil West

I have heard many stories throughout my life. Funny stories. Sad stories. Stories with a little bit of both sprinkled in. The West family are amazing story tellers and beautiful singers. Much of my little girl life was spent curled on a couch near someone I loved, listening to laughter and music far into the night. Guitar strumming to this day brings back those days. Those feelings of contentment and safety. 

The stories of Grandma were always good ones. She was quiet, but caring. Her siblings meant everything to her, and she loved her parents unconditionally. She always stood for what was right, and never backed down. Grandma had the gift of love and the gift of Faith. Her home was always open to anyone and everyone.

Grandma's life wasn't easy. She had many, many trials. Many times of pain. Emotionally and physically. She fought cancer, and the side effects of it, for over 20 years. She was first diagnosed with cancer when my own Mother was eleven years old, and would not finish her fight until I was eleven.
Yet, her faith never wavered. It was a simple Faith, but it was strong and true. Her life was inspiring. Is inspiring.

I am only a granddaughter. I know only what I have heard in stories and witnessed in those short eleven years I knew her. Someone else out there is far more informed and could write much deeper than I. Much more clear. All I know is my Grandma was my hero. Then, but even more so, now.

She loved her family, and would stand and fight for them with her very last breath.
She raised ten children beside my Grandpa, while helping run the family berry farm.
She loved the mountains, and passed that love down to me. Nothing seemed to frighten her. Nothing could harm her. Or, so I thought.

Grandma and Aunt Marissa - a few years before I was born

Hunting in the Blues

At the Ranch

I remember her baking cookies and banana bread in the kitchen. Blue countertops speckled in flour. We'd sprawl on the kitchen floor while she did with crayons scattered everywhere, coloring. The drawer under the oven where they were kept was too tight for me to pull out, so I often had to ask for help. Many times it was Grandma who came to the rescue. When we were done she would remind us to put all the crayons back into the container, and into the drawer.

I remember her sitting on the floor upstairs, house quiet and fan buzzing, while she folded clothes. Sometimes I would try helping her, though I am sure I made more of a mess. Still, she let me try. Gently showing me how to fold the sleeve this way, tuck the collar that way.

I loved when she would give us three girls baths, especially when she would finally give in and let us take one in her bedroom. I thought the bathtub in there was so romantic, with its blue carpeted step up to it, and how it was just right in the open of the bedroom! We would play in the water for what felt like hours, until Grandma said we had to wash up now. She'd pull out the soap, a bottle with eyes that made it look so fun to use, and pour some in her hand. Then our hair would be scrubbed and  rinsed beneath the faucet, one at a time.
I'll never forget how I stepped into the bathtub once, with my socks still on my feet. It was the strangest feeling! My face must have been quite comical because I remember looking at Grandma and she burst into hysterical laughter.


I remember grocery shopping with Grandma and Mommy, and sometimes Grandma would buy us doughnuts from the deli. I have not had one of those maple glazed doughnuts in years, but just the smell of them reminds me of those days seated in the cart, being pushed around the store.


I remember the way she used to hug and kiss me. Wrapping both arms so tightly around I felt I couldn't breathe, and she'd peck my cheeks over and over again before saying,
"Bubye. Grammy loves you!"

Not only did people love Grandma, but animals did too. Maybe because she had no fear? I don't know. But I do know that she had a way with them. She seemed to be able to connect with them, and they felt she could be trusted.

My world was perfect. I had cousins and aunts to run around with. Caring parents, and loving Grandparents. Nothing could harm my world. Nothing, expect one word. Cancer.


At first, nothing really changed that I could see. Grandma was still Grandma. She still drove me to the store, and smothered me in love. Then, things started to happen. Grandma would sit under a strange blue light for a long time. I would crawl beside her at times and she would play with my hair. She changed her diet, and began eating strange healthy foods. Piles of pills. She would tire easily and had to lay down sometimes to sleep.
Something dark was changing my Grandma. My hero. The strong pillar in my world.

The first big seizure I remember witnessing was probably when I was around seven or eight years old? Perhaps I am wrong in that though. I may have been younger.
I had stayed the night, along with cousin Colten, and us four kids were downstairs in the kitchen making pancakes for breakfast. We were so excited! We even had the table all set up with plates and napkins. Grandpa was at work, and Grandma was asleep upstairs.
I was standing by the table, Marissa by the stove, flipping the pancakes. Grandma came slowly walking down the stairs. I remember looking at her. Something wasn't right. Something was terribly wrong. She walked to the counter and leaned her hand against it.
Marissa asked, "Mom? What's wrong?" Grandma started shaking her head and rubbing her forehead with her other hand. "Mom? Are you having a seizure?"
This time Grandma's head shook harder and she turned her eyes upward, her hand waving into the air. Then Grandma started to fall to the ground. I remember hearing Marissa scream and trying to catch her. I panicked and ran outside, screaming for Grandpa. I didn't realize that he was at his office down town.
My Uncle Casey happened to be at the shop, and heard me crying. He came out the door and hollered back, "Huh?"
I didn't know what to do. I just called "It's Grandma... she... she needs help." I seen him jump into his truck and I turned and ran back into the house. Grandma was laying on her back on the kitchen floor. Eyes closed and, if I remember right, she had foam coming out of her mouth. Marita was the only one who knew Grandpa's cell number, and was on the phone with him. Uncle Casey came in, took the phone, and Grandpa gave instructions on what to do. I ran upstairs and stared out the lounge window, standing beside Colten. We didn't say anything to each other. What was there to say?
That memory has never left me. And I can still so vividly see it. Hear it.
The seizure did pass, and Grandma was able to get up and sit in a chair. But, the memory was forever burned in my mind. And those pancakes were thrown out to the dog.


After that, I realized just how sick Grandma truly was. I became afraid.
The seizures became more frequent. Harder. Stronger. My strong Grandma was becoming very weak. Strokes took her ability to walk, and in the end, her ability to talk.

Everything began to change. My carefree childhood days were now filled with questions. Anxieties.
Perhaps today would be the day? Perhaps today would be the day Grandma would go away. Each time the phone rang, the hair on my neck would stand up. Who would be on the other end? What would they say? Is it time? Is it Grandma?
Sometimes, it would be. We would load up and head to Grandpa and Grandma's.
Firetrucks.
Flashing lights.
Chills up and down my back.
Days would come where visiting Grandma in the hospital would be the new normal. Long quiet moments. Walks down silent, perfectly clean hallways. That sickening clean smell.

My 11th birthday - the last one I celebrated with Grandma

 

Grandma no longer cleaned and cooked. No longer did she warm up milk to help me sleep late at night. No more bath times. No more grocery shopping or mall trips.

Grandma was changed. Physically. Her hair fell out and she swelled from steroids.

But, her heart still shone with love. Her hugs were tight. Her kisses firm. Life was hard. Very hard. But she struggled on. She fought hard. For us.

September 7, 2007 will forever be branded in my mind. I will never forget that date. The moment I heard, "She's gone." The crying coming from the dining room that had been made into a make-shift bedroom while Grandma was in her last days.


Those two weeks before Grandma went away were hard. And yet beautiful at the same time. Something amazing happened. I was only eleven years old, yet even I could feel it. God's presence. Everywhere. Those days were spent at Grandma's house. With a hundred others. Morning and night blended into one. Sleeping arrangements were just wherever you laid down. The stairs. The back porch. The bathroom floor. Towels were used for blankets and coats for pillows.
I remember waking up in the middle of the night. Cousins sleeping all around me. Lights shone from downstairs and beautiful hymns being sung shook the rafters. I laid in the dark, my cheeks pressed between the wooden railings, just listening. Wondering. Maybe she had passed away. Perhaps they were singing her to Heaven at this very moment.


The day she finally did pass away, I was seated at the piano. Just playing little songs I knew with one finger. Great-Uncle Allyn walked in.
"She's gone." 
I remember he looked at me. My fingers stilled. And my heart stopped. The day I knew was coming, had finally come. Five years of questioning were over.

Grandma was gone.


Her suffering was over. Her body no longer was in pain. Her tears would never fall again. I felt nothing. I didn't cry. I didn't lash out in anger. I didn't smile.
I simply felt nothing.

My beautiful Grandma.
She loved Jesus with all of her heart.
Her family.
Mountains.
Hunting.
Hiking.
Animals of all kind.
Lilacs.
Charley Pride.
Rocky's Pizza.
The Ranch.
Four wheeler rides.
The smell of coffee, but she couldn't drink it. 
She was an amazing cook.
Had the most beautiful smile.
The best laugh.
Twinkling eyes.

I was young. I know no one is perfect but, as a toddler, in my eyes Grandma was. I didn't see her flaws. She was always loving and happy. Except when I had been naughty. *smiles*
Then her twinkling eyes would flash fire and I knew I had been terribly wrong.

Just a week or so before she passed away.

After she had passed away, the grandchildren were called in to give her one last goodbye kiss. I didn't want to. I wanted to run away and hide forever. But, I was pushed through that blanketed doorway. I kissed her quickly growing cold cheek, and then my Mom hugged me. I remember she was crying. I felt perhaps I should cry too, so I forced one tear to slip out. Just one, before turning and quickly running back out.
I don't remember much after that. I don't know where I went or how I even felt. That memory has slipped from my grasp. Perhaps it is a good thing.


The years to come would bring many changes. Many trials. Many moments of frustration and tears.
Time continued to tick by. More grandchildren would be born. There are fifty-three of us now. Over half having never met their amazing Grandma. I ache for them. How I wish they could have known her.


God has been working in my heart recently, slowly changing me. Helping me grow.


Teaching me to feel again.


I'm not afraid to remember those memories anymore. The good and the bad. They have brought me to where I am today, and I will continue to learn until my days on earth are ore.


People would tell me,
"You shouldn't wish Grandma back here. She was in so much pain."
And I agreed. Still, many times as I laid in bed and angry tears slipped from my eyes, I would pray and ask God,
"Why did you have to allow Grandma to get cancer in the first place? Why couldn't she have stayed healthy? She was so young. Only 51 when you took her away. She had so much more to live."
It took many years, tears, and moments of pain for me to finally believe that "God see's the big picture."


I rejoice in knowing Grandma is in Heaven. Her pain is no more, and she rests in peace forever.


I rejoice in knowing that I too will join her someday. I too will join the heavenly choir singing praises to the One and Only.
How beautiful Heaven must be!


Each day, each second, we are all one step closer to Glory. One more moment to thank God for. One more hour to fall on our knees and ask for guidance.


My prayer has always been, but more so today, that my life may be a light to others. By my words and actions. That when they see me, they see a fellow human. Someone who struggles and falls. Someone who is in need of a Savior. Someone who turns to Christ for everything.
Like the country song by Joey+Rory says,


"I see Him in you. And I hope you see Him in me."


I miss Grandma. I always will. Those memories of those days will never leave me. But, I no longer need to live in fear of remembering. Grandma's life was an inspiration to me. She showed me to always give glory to Jesus, even when life is hard. To love. To dream. To live in the moment.
I now can look at those days and whisper, "thank you."
Thank You for carrying me through that, no matter how many times I doubted You. How many times I lashed out and wondered where You were. Thank You for not giving up on me.
Thank you for the trials. Thank you for teaching me. Continue to teach me.  Until my life is no more. What a day of rejoicing!


How beautiful Heaven must be!

Hymns

I have always loved country music. That old fashioned "twangy" sound and sad old songs that have no beginning. Mountain music. The American sound. The root of all music.
There is just something romantic about those sounds. The old stories told through song, passed from generation to generation. Something special.


They are fun to listen to and even fun to sing. Songs about lost loved ones, broken hearts, and pain. True stories that happened to someone so long ago.


I probably will always love those old songs. And yet, even older songs have lasted through the ages. And those old words have become so real and near to myself, personally.


Hymns.

The first song I learned as a child was "Jesus Loves Me". The first song I could sing word for word.
Through the years I came to memorize many more. The words were beautiful and the tunes inspiring.


It wasn't until recently though that those words truly hit my heart deep inside. I came to understand them so personally that each line, though I have sang them a thousand times, seemed to take on a new magic. The words hit far deeper than I could imagine and tears would sting my eyes.


Hymns are sermons of their own. Uplifting and encouraging. Someone so many years ago, felt the same way I did. They had struggles and fears. And God allowed them to pen those words to encourage others hundreds of years later. How amazing is that?


Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus
Oh soul are you weary and troubled?
No light in the darkness you see?
There's a light for a look at the Savior
A life more abundant and free
Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Look full in His wondrous face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace


Just a couple weeks ago, I had a bad day. I became so afraid and I lost sight of Jesus. I was looking at this world and everything seemed too dark. Too evil. I couldn't do it. I didn't want to live in this world anymore. I was so ready to go home. I felt like I was falling into a deep hole that I would never come out of. Then from the back of my mind, the words above floated through my head.
"Turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look full into His wondrous face. And the things of earth will grow strangely dim." The things of earth.
I had always took those words physically. We need to look fully to Jesus and not rely on things of this earth. Food. Clothes. Wants.
But those words are so much deeper. To me anyway. The evils of this earth will grow dim when we look to Him. The fears and earthly struggles vanish, and I can come out of that darkness stronger.
 
With Harps And With Viols
How helpless and hopeless
We sinners had been
If He never had loved us
Till cleansed from our sin
Unto Him who hath loved us
And washed us from sin
Unto Him be the glory
Forever, Amen


I Need Thee Every Hour
I need thee every hour
Most gracious Lord
No tender voice like thine
Can peace afford
I need Thee, oh I need Thee
Every hour I need Thee
Oh bless me now my Savior
I come to Thee


Take My Hand, Precious Lord
Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, help me stand
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light
And take my hand, precious Lord
Lead me home


Where We'll Never Grow Old
I have heard of a land
On a faraway strand
Tis a beautiful home of the soul
Built by Jesus on high
There we never shall die
Tis a land where we'll never grow old
Never grow old
Never grow old
In the land where we'll never grow old
Never grow old
Never grow old
In the land where we'll never grow old


How Beautiful Heaven Must Be
We read of a place that's called Heaven
It's made for the pure and the free
These truths in God's word He has given
How beautiful Heaven must be
How beautiful Heaven must be
Sweet home of the happy and free
Fair haven of rest for the weary
How beautiful Heaven must be


How Great Thou Art
Oh Lord my God
When I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds
Thy hands have made
I see the stars
I hear the rolling thunder
Thy power throughout the universe displayed
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee
How great Thou art, How great Thou art
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee
How great Thou art, How great Thou art


Like a memorized Bible verse, God can use the words to hymns as well. When you need encouragement, words of hymns can fill your mind. I am so thankful I was brought up around those old, old stories. For without them, this life would be a much harder road.
I may always enjoy playing country music on different occasions, but those hymns? Those are something truly special. Those I want to sing forever and ever, amen.


How great Thou art! How great Thou art!

unanswered prayers

Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers

Remember when you're talking to The Man Upstairs

That just because He doesn't answer, doesn't mean He don't care

Some of God's greatest gifts are

unanswered prayers

- Garth Brooks "Unanswered Prayers"

Have you ever thought about that before? The words in the country song above hit me hard one day. How many prayers did I breathe. Plead. Only to have them left "unanswered"? Or so I thought.

Even from a small girl, I never doubted what I was going to be when I grew up. I wasn't going to travel distant shores or dig a canal. I didn't care for becoming a doctor or studying art.

All I wanted was a family of my own.

Sounds simple, doesn't it? You would think I could just simply sit back and wait for the Lord to open the doorways for me.

But I didn't.

I complained. I pouted. I pleaded. I cried.

Why wasn't it happening, right now?

My Mom and Grandma both were married at the tender age of seventeen. Seventeen. I figured that was a good age for myself. I could carry on the "tradition". Meet my prince charming at age fifteen and be married by seventeen. Simple.

Not.

My teen years were hard on me, emotionally. I struggled with bitter feelings toward myself and my life. Nothing was going how I had always planned and it frightened me. Why couldn't God allow my deepest dream to come true? Others had theirs granted. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I have mine?

I believed God would send the right one in His time, but why wasn't His time when I wanted it to be? My friends around me had boyfriends. They would come and go in their lives. I knew I didn't want that, but why had no one ever looked twice at me? Was there something truly wrong with me?

I suffered from anxiety and severe insecurity.  I couldn't even walk into a grocery store without my body going into shakes. I was terrified of someone looking at me.

This caused me to feel even more bitter. Why couldn't I relax? How did I ever think I would be able to talk to a guy if I couldn't even say "Good. How are you?" to the nice lady at the cash register?

Years went by and I grew older. I got jobs. Slowly my anxiety felt less and I was able to function like a normal human being. Still, I was lonely. Still I wondered what God had planned for me.

Where was I going in this world? Why was I here? 

Then, one day, it happened. A good hard slap of reality. An experience completely knocked me off my feet and shattered my entire world. I have never felt such hate for myself as I did those few months in my life. Such shame and embarrassment. Each day I would awaken and the tears would fall down my face.

That's when I came to realize how wrong I was for trying to control my own life. To try and shove doors open that were meant to be shut and locked tight.

The following months after that experience were the hardest, most beautiful months of my life. I spent long moments in prayer. Begging God. Asking Him one simple question.

Why?

He answered me gently and quietly.

Because I love you.
Because you needed to realize that your life is not in your control.
I have a plan. One I created at the beginning of time.

Wait.

It's going to be beautiful.

The bitter feelings went away. In their place I was granted peace. Contentment. I truly believed with everything in me that God was in control of my life. And if I was meant to be single for my entire life on this earth, I would be okay. God was by my side and I could have joy in that. I became closer to God and began to truly see Him as a friend. As my All in All.

Some moments the embarrassing feelings would come back. God was able to remind me of those words He spoke and I felt pure happiness. That experience had to happen, to bring me to where I was.

It was meant to be.

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

Psalm 23

All the days of my life.

After that, I gave up. Yes, I still had my desires, but only if they were God's will. In God's time.

I had never felt so content in my entire life. God was in complete control and He would take care of me.

Then one day, my New Hampshire auntie FaceTimed me. She never had before and has not since but it made me realize how much I missed her and my Grandparents.

I told my parents I felt I needed a vacation. A change of pace to just recharge after such an emotional time. Grandma had been asking for me to come visit for years. I never dared for the thought of flying without my parents scared me beyond words. Then one day it happened.

I was ready.

I didn't want to fly alone but we did not know of anyone going out there in the near future. My Mom just reassured me:

"If its meant something will open up."

And it did!

We made a trip across the river to visit my Dad's sister. She casually brought up that my cousin Shiloh hoped to make a trip out there that summer but she was nervous having him fly alone.

Ding!

Perfect!

Just like that, the doors opened. Tickets were bought and, nervously, we boarded a jet plane to fly 3,000 miles away.

At this point I did not desire to meet a young man. I wanted to spend time with my Auntie and her baby twins. I wasn't looking anymore. I was happy where I was.

I'll even admit, I was a little scared to even allow myself to notice someone. I would probably end up hurt. Again.

I had no idea what God had planned for me that vacation.

The first weekend I was there, we made a trip to Clark's Trading Post. 

Uncle Amos' younger brother had joined us. Usually I would be nervous around young men but that day, I wasn't. I just poured all my attention on the twins and pushed any other thoughts away.

I would be teased about him by family members but I would just smile and shake my head.

Sure, I had noticed him. Occasionally he would cross my mind, but I didn't let myself go past that.

"He would never notice me."

On my final day there, as I was seated in the living room playing with one of the babies, my Auntie started to giggle.

"So... would you girls like to go out tonight with Amos' brother, Josiah?"

I remember feeling excitement replaced by pure panic. "Um? What?"

She then explained she had text him, trying to get him to take myself and cousin Kirsten out somewhere.

Hesitantly, I agreed. So did Kirsten.

It was decided he would come over for supper and then it would be decided what we would do.

I'll never forget going into the bedroom to try and freshen myself up a little when Kirsten asked:

"What are you doing? Do you like that kid?"

"Uh... what. Um... I don't even know him."

She looked at me a little funny before leaving the room. I remember looking in the mirror and thinking:

"Do you like him?"  

That night a group of us went hiking. I never spoke a word to Josiah. In fact, I did my best to avoid him. I wasn't about to let myself read into anything that wasn't there. I didn't even say goodbye when he left that night. And I didn't think I would ever hear from him again.

I flew home and began to get back into my daily routine. Still, for some reason I couldn't push thoughts of those two days we spent together out of my mind. I even prayed and asked God to take away those thoughts. I didn't want them if they weren't going to benefit me.

And then on September 14, 2016, I received a Facebook message from Josiah. Imagine how my heart started pounding when I got the notification! I nearly passed out I do believe.

Never, ever had I even dared hope he would message me.

We talked for a little while and then we both headed off to bed. For the next four months we chatted occasionally. Once we even went two weeks between a conversation. But slowly I started getting to know him. He wasn't any longer just "that guy". He was someone who had hopes and fears just like me.

In January the talking picked up until we began having some sort of communication

every. single. day.

Still, I had my fears. What if this was all one sided and he didn't care for me in that way? How was I ever going to know?

Then, Grandpa became sick and, while I wasn't even home, tickets were bought for us girls to fly out there for a long visit.

My first feeling was that of panic.

I was going to be in the same state as Josiah again. What would he do? Would he want to see me? Would that make him feel awkward? Would he stop talking to me?

One month went by before we were finally on our way. The flight there I felt excitement, but also anxiety. I tried not to hope or even think about how all this was going to go. That way I wouldn't be disappointed if we only seen each other once or twice.

Once or twice? Ha.

We weren't at Grandma's more than a half hour before Josiah stopped by to say hello. I'm not going to lie, I think my heart fell to my feet and back up when he walked in. I was so nervous. But I kept telling myself that this was the same guy I had been texting for five months straight. Only he was in life form now.

The next day he picked me up and he bought me shoes for my birthday. Then we went hiking. We hung out at my Grandma's for a little while, before he went home.

The next day he texted and asked if I wanted to go out to supper. Again we spent the evening together.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Until it became Saturday and we spent the entire day with each other.

Each day I felt more comfortable with him. Each day we grew closer.

Until the night of May 19th, when we officially became a "couple".

Today marks three weeks since we began "dating" though we have been talking for nearly nine months. Daily for six months.

Boarding that plane was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Leaving my boyfriend behind and wondering when we would be together again. After spending every moment possible together for three weeks and three days, I was going to be lonely.  

But, it was the most amazing three weeks and three days of my life. We went hiking, out to eat, coffee, ice cream, shopping, out on a pond in a canoe, or sometimes we just relaxed together at Grandma's. I'm afraid I didn't always see much of anyone else *blush*.

It still feels so crazy. So weird to say "I have a boyfriend". It's sometimes hard to believe this is all real.

I sit here in awe and am amazed at God's hand in this. I know I had nothing to do with any of it. All glory goes to Him. For without Him, none of this would have happened.

Josiah is my best friend, and worth all those years of waiting for. I have never met someone who I feel so at ease with. Someone I can tell anything and everything to.

I only wish I could go back and tell my young self, "Wait. It's going to be beautiful."

So for those of you who are still "waiting", please believe that God does have a plan for you. It sometimes may be hard to see but I know from experience that it's a beautiful plan. One that was made exactly for you. Live in the moment. Live in today. Bloom where you are. God will open the doors of your life. All you must do is trust Him. Let Him be your all in all.

He will take care of the rest.

It's going to be beautiful.