No such thing as "good" cancer, but I've got it.

There's an old cliche' that says God never gives us more than we can handle. Mother Theresa was once quoted as saying "God never gives us more than we can handle. I just wish He didn't trust me so much." A month ago, and for the last seven years, I thought I understood how she felt. Now, I know I understand how she felt.  A week ago I was diagnosed with cancer. It's not your "regular" cancer, in fact, it's the "good" kind of cancer. I, thankfully, will not have to undergo chemo treatments to fight this disease. The doctors and the "all-knowing internet" have all simplified it down to 3 things: 1) Surgery to remove the cancer and my thyroid. 2) a one time pill of Radioactive Iodine to kill off any left over thyroid or cancer cells. 3) Taking thyroid replacement hormone for the rest of my life.

They make it sound as if it's no big deal like it's not really cancer, but it is still CANCER! So I don't have to go through the nastiness of chemo and radiation treatments, but there are still the numerous dr. appointments, scans and tests, not to mention the thought that it could spread or come back at any time is always lingering in the back of your mind and there is still the worst case scenario. Even though there is a near 100% cure rate, there are still those who don't survive this type of cancer. Having Thyroid Cancer is a bit of a different ball game. I've had a difficult time deciding whether or not to share my diagnosis with people outside of my immediate circle. There are people in my life that have a tendency to say things that infer they think I'm a hypochondriac or just want attention and use my health to get it. Trust me, I would much rather not have to deal with MS, cancer, or any of the other health problems I have. And I'm sorry, but it's not my job to make you feel better about the fact that I have cancer.

There's not really anything you can do to "fix" these things. You follow the doctor's orders, but the reality is there is just no way to really know how things will turn out. These aren't medical issues that require a round of antibiotics and then you're done with it. These things don't go away completely. Sure, there's remission and at some point the doctors could declare me "cancer free," but there's always the possibility that it will return. I don't know why MS and arthritis weren't enough trouble for me, but for whatever reason, these are the adversities I have to navigate in life.

I don't need your drama or your stress. I don't need any stress. What I need is your smiles, an occasional hug, laughter, and for cancer to not be constantly on my mind. I don't want to think about it all the time. I want to continue my life, not pause or stop it. I need you to not be sad, if you're going to be sad, then go be sad somewhere else. I need you to be my friend, not a walking bucket of pity. Two great coaches who lost their fight with cancer said it best. "Don't give up. Don't ever give up."--Jim Valvano  and "It's what you got, deal with it."--Tom Pratt   So, I've got MS, I've got arthritis, I've got cancer, I've got no plans to give up. Just deal with it.

Quitters never win

Quitters never win. It's something we hear all the time, but do you really "get" what that means? I think it's really a question of your integrity, heart, and ultimately your identity. Integrity involves many things, but in this case I'm talking about your ability to finish what you started or fulfill a commitment/promise. When you sign up for a team of any kind, you make a commitment to be there every time until your season/project is finished. People are counting on you to be there and you said you would be.  Heart: Do you want it enough to push through the bad/difficult times? Do you believe in yourself even when no body else does? Can you rise above not only the expectations of others, but your own potential? Identity: Are you secure in who you are? Can you do your best, and give everything you have only to lose or fail at achieving your goal and be okay with it? Can you accept that things don't always go the way you want them to, forget about it, and try again tomorrow?

I learned all of these things through soccer. I remember getting cut from my soccer team. I was so upset I wanted to quit soccer all together. Thankfully, I had a mom and dad that wouldn't let me. Even though I complained and fought them the whole way, they forced me to go try out for another team. They wouldn't let me quit something I loved just because things didn't go the way I wanted them to.  Then two years later when my new team began to flounder, I wanted to quit again. My mom said "absolutely not! You signed up to play with this team for the whole year and you will honor that commitment. When the season is over and you still want to quit then okay, but you will not quit on your team in the middle of the season. That also means you will do your best everyday." I finished the season and decided I still wanted to play, but not with that group of people. Not because we didn't win or because I didn't like my teammates. I left because the other members of the team didn't have that same commitment to the team that I did and their parents weren't making them show up.

I remember these two moments in life, because they were both big moments when my parents decided to be my parent and teach me life lessons rather than be my friend and make me feel better. At the time I didn't appreciate those moments, but now I know the value of these lessons. Integrity goes a long way in life, build it up and don't compromise it.

The reality that sometimes skill, talent, and speed weren't enough to win and that sometimes it just comes down to who wants it more I learned from a stranger.  My teammates and I were waiting to play in the championship game of a tournament and decided to sit and watch a boys game. The team whose sideline we sat on and cheered for were complete strangers to us. They ended up losing their game and afterwards their coach said something to his boys that penetrated the heart of my team and we carried it into our game.  He told his boys they didn't lose because the other team was bigger, they didn't lose because the other team was faster, and they didn't lose because the other team was better. He told them they lost because the other team wanted it more. As we huddled together before our game, our coach was preparing to say something to encourage us. Before he could speak, my co-captain and I posed this question to each other and our teammates, "Who wants it more?" Our goal was to win the tournament and we determined we weren't going to let them take that from us. Simply put, we wanted it more and we continued to remind each other of that. As that cool, autumn night came to an end, we went home with a championship trophy and the knowledge that sometimes you have to push yourself beyond your known limits to achieve your dreams.

At the same time, my high school coach was teaching me, again, not to quit. My freshman year we got beat in a pre-season game. After the game, our coach really reamed us for giving up and quitting on ourselves, our teammates, and him. He said we were representing more than just ourselves, we represented each other, him, our school and our town. Our teammates, school, and town deserved better than a bunch of quitters. He told us he didn't care what the scoreboard said, that we would not quit, ever. He taught us to fight for everything until the final whistle blew.

When my soccer career ended as the result of a string of serious injuries, I felt a little lost. I wasn't sure of who I was without being part of a team and without having a ball at my feet. When the school year ended a few weeks after telling my coach and teammates that I was hanging up my boots, my coach wrote something in my yearbook that helped me understand who I was:

"I am truly going to miss you on the soccer field next year. You are an inspiring player who always "leaves nothing" on the field. I respect and admire your approach to games and your ability to always maximize and exceed your potential. You truly epitomize what an over achiever is. Thanks for all you have given Sandite Soccer and remember to apply the same principles in the rest of your life..."--Roger Bush, May 2000

 In that one paragraph, I was reminded of who I was. I was reminded that when I took the field nothing else in the world mattered except soccer. That allowed me to give everything I had to my team and the game. For 90 minutes nothing else mattered, but when I stepped off the field and took my cleats off there were other things in the world that deserved my attention. I wasn't just a soccer player. Because I gave everything for the duration of a game, I could walk away with my head held high knowing that even when we lost, I couldn't have done anything else to change the outcome. I was reminded that I wasn't afraid to push myself to be better than expected. I could walk away with no regrets and knowing that I had all the tools to be successful. I knew who I was and I knew I had worked hard to become that person. My achievements weren't just handed to me, they were earned. I did the work and gave my best effort, I didn't take short cuts and I didn't cheat and was rewarded for it.

This past fall and spring I volunteered as an assistant coach for an U-12 boys team. Needless to say, we were always the underdog. Half of our players had no soccer experience and most of them weren't very competitive and just wanted to have fun. That made it hard on someone as competitive as myself. I struggled to try to teach them these same things. They're not quite old enough or ready to learn these life lessons. At 10 and 11 years old, they really are more concerned about having fun. So I decided to focus on just one of these lessons. Never Quit. I told them the same things I was told. No matter what the score is we never quit. Whether we're up by ten or down by twenty, we fight for every ball. It took the whole season to finally get that kind of effort out of them and though we still lost, it was a spectacular game. Our regular season is over and we have one week to prepare for a tournament. After a tough season that yielded only two wins, both by forfeit, one of our guys quit the team. His mom sent a text message to let us know. (I won't even go into that). The reasons she gave were that he was tired of being on a losing team and he was tired of the other boys being bossy, not listening, and not playing as a team.

That last reason really stood out to me. He was tired of them not playing as a team, yet he himself is quitting his team. Not exactly something a team player does. I understand his feelings, but I am bothered that his parents are teaching him it's okay to quit by allowing him to do so. I recognize she is doing what she thinks is best for her son, but I don't agree with it. If she had told him he had to finish this week and the tournament then he could find a different team, it wouldn't bother me so much. It's the quitting that gets to me.

 I am not a parent, but people please. Do not teach your kids that it's okay to quit by allowing them to do so. They need to learn things don't always go their way and sometimes they have to deal with annoying/bossy/selfish people. They need to have a sense of self and be able to fail at something and no it's okay because they gave their best effort even if no one else involved did.


It really irritates me when I see parents allow their kids to quit before the finish line. I imagine that kid growing up and quitting every job or great experience he/she has when they don't like someone or things don't go their way. As I said, I am not a parent, but I encourage you to teach your children the value of integrity and part of that is fulfilling their commitments and not quitting early no matter what. You cannot win in life if you are always quitting.


I wish this young man all the best and I hope quitting early doesn't become a fixture in his life, because quitters never win.

admiration, envy, and dreams.

I have a ton of admiration for women with families. Whether they are working moms or stay at home moms, they do so much through the day including keeping other humans alive. It's got to be one of the toughest and least acknowledged jobs on the planet.

The majority of my friends are one of these women. In fact, out of all my friends, they are the only ones I hang out with. A fact which presents it's own problems, but I'll get to those later. Of my "mommy friends," I've watched how motherhood has changed them and how it's challenged them. Often, I find myself envying them and the lives they have. They're married with their 2.5 kids and beautiful homes they've lovingly decorated.  It's a life I thought I'd have years ago. Trying to be content with my singleness is increasingly difficult when I'm around my dear friends, but I either listen to them talk about their kids' poop or I quit hanging out with them and that's just not an option for me.

For some of them, being a stay at home mom is what they've always dreamed of doing. There's nothing wrong with that. I admire that they visualized a dream and they are living their dream. Some people work their entire lives and never realize their dreams. I don't know if I'll ever realize my dreams. I'm not really sure what my dreams are anymore.

The past six years have changed my life in ways I never thought possible. I look at myself now and have to wonder how did I get to this place. It's as if I've been stuck in the same place for six years and unaware of it the whole time. Now that I've figured that out, I don't know where to go or how to get there. I'm not even sure I know how to take that first step. Sometimes I think about just packing up and leaving town. Going to a place where I can start over without any expectations; past, present or future. But how? I don't have any money and I don't have any idea what I want to be/do. I'm not giving up, I'm just stuck.

This is hard

*It took me a long time to decide whether or not to post this entry. Parts of it may be hurtful to some people and that's not my intention. The whole reason I started this blog was to have an outlet for the physical and emotional stress MS puts on my life along with a place to just express some of my rambling thoughts.*

**I know that there are people in the world that deal with far more serious injuries and illness than I do and they do it much more class and courage than I.**

I've learned that as much as I desire it to be so, I am not much of a writer/blogger. Mostly, I think it is a problem with lack of self-interest. I don't mean I'm not interested in myself (whatever that means), but that I don't find my life all that interesting. My life, in my eyes, is pretty dull and mundane. 

Take this summer for instance. It seems all I do is lounge around the house in an attempt to stay cool. The one thing I struggle with most as a result from my MS is fatigue. The heat of the summer always makes it worse and this summer has been the worst since that first summer after my diagnosis six years ago. WOW, SIX YEARS!!! God has been so good to me these past six years, but with the heat of the summer I just kind of disappear from society. While everyone else is out participating in the world by working, going on vacations, hiking, swimming, jogging, biking, and whatever else there is to do out there, I am stuck inside trying to stay cool. My comfort zone is at about 73.5 degrees and sometimes even just a half degree change in the temperature can start the phases of discomfort. The heat zaps my energy away in no time flat. This year we basically had two or three weeks of spring and then the summer heat moved in. The past month has been down right ridiculous and as my dear friend Denisa put it, it's "stupid hot outside" with temperatures above 100 degrees most of the month of July.  The heat not only drains my energy, but it also completely reinvents my sleep schedule. I sleep all day and I'm up all night. So with the exception of a few weeks, my summer has pretty much consisted of my laying in bed all day with the lights off and the fans blowing over me and not emerging until the sun goes down. Even then it's still too hot to really do much. Thus my life is not any more interesting than a speck of dust. 

There just doesn't seem to be much to write about other than my daily struggle with the disease. I just can't put my brain in that mode of dwelling on the negative, even though I'm sure it would be therapeutic since there isn't really anyone I can talk to about it. My friends haven't been the best at being supportive through this and I can't really blame them. It's not that they aren't good friends, but they just don't want to hear about all the negative aspects and I think they easily forget that I really do have this horrible disease because I don't have "visible" symptoms. They don't realize that we are pretty similar. They talk about their families and about the latest thing their kids have done, because their families are the biggest, everyday thing in their lives. If I don't talk about how I'm doing with my MS then I most often don't have much to talk about, because that's my everyday. I don't have a kid or husband/boyfriend to help make life interesting. I don't go out to clubs or bars to meet new people. The truth is I've never told anyone how I'm really doing. I've heard my friends comment several times on people who "always have something wrong" or are "paranoid." They don't exactly make me believe they really want to hear how I'm doing. As for the other people in my life, either they are obviously not interested, don't want to hear it, or they already worry too much and I just don't feel like I can add to that. I know and am willing to admit that part of these perceptions and feelings are from the depression that often goes along with MS and at times I am a little bit jealous of the lives my friends have. I never ever thought that my life would be what it is and what it is not. Also, I have not talked to my friends about these feelings because that's a conversation I just don't know how to have. Like I said at the top of this thing, it isn't my intention to hurt anyone's feelings. I just need to have an outlet where I'm not being judged, where people aren't thinking I just want attention or sympathy. The fact is this life is much harder than I ever thought it would be. 

For now I have to be content and at peace. I will overcome this. I have not and will not give up or give in no matter how hard it gets. It's just hard to block it out all day every day, and every now and then I have to exhale and empty the tank that's been holding it all in. I know that I'm not alone on this journey and that God is always with me, which is enough. As for everyone else, I think eventually we'll figure out how to do this dance. 

RLJ

Tornado Complacency

Around my hometown of Sand Springs and in much of the Tulsa area, we often joke about tornados. In Sand Springs there is a story that has been passed down from generation to generation about an old indian(native american) "blessing" that protects Sand Springs from tornados. This story and the fact that it has been decades since Sand Springs and most of Tulsa has taken a direct hit from an actual tornado, have contributed to a "tornado complacency" here. We've had our fair share of strong, straight-line winds, but not full fledged tornados. Even kids are known to stand outside and watch the storms roll in. I even stood outside and watched tonight.

However, I can't help but remember a trip to Kansas back in May 1999. Mom, Sheila and I had been in Wichita for a soccer tournament. We were on our way home late Sunday afternoon when a small, weak tornado dropped from the sky right on top of us. We were in Kansas, out in the middle of nowhere. For the record, Kansas is flat. I mean, flat. We've always been told to vacate the vehicle and get in a low lying ditch during a tornado, but this time there was no ditch. Kansas is flat, no ditches. Plus, it was hailing with baseball to softball size hail stones. We probably would have been killed by the hail had we gotten out of the van. So there we were sitting in the van on the side of Interstate Highway 35 out in the middle of nowhere, completely exposed as this tornado descended upon us. Visibility immediately went to zero and the van began to move. Not just shake, but physically move from one place to another. The wind was literally pushing us around. All my life I'd been taught and trained for what to do in the event of a tornado and there I was at 15 years of age and unable to do what I'd been taught. As the storm passed and we continued down the highway the road went from gray to green. The tornado might not have been powerful enough to eat us and our van, but it did rip up the sod from the nearby farms and completely blanket four lanes of open highway. We spent the rest of the night trying to out-run the tornados. We made it home 10 minutes before the storm was to hit Sand Springs and immediately headed to Tulsa to my aunt and uncle's house for shelter. Just as the storm approached Sand Springs it lifted, and returned to the clouds. That trip was perhaps the scariest time of my life.

As yet another tornado outbreak stormed across the state today, I watched my facebook newsfeed fill up with jokes and comments displaying the dangerous complacency that exists here. It doesn't seem to matter that communities all around us suffer damage year after year. People here still refuse to heed the warnings. My sister complains about all the "depressing" images on the news from the city of Joplin, MO which suffered a direct hit from a massive tornado just two days ago. My hope is that by showing all those images and telling all of the stories that people will realize the reality of these monsterous beasts. Tornados are no joke. Hopefully these images lingering across my television will lead to lives saved and these twisters will suck up that complacency without sucking up our homes.

Don't pack it away

We've wrapped up another Christmas holiday and are preparing to ring in another new year. Don't pack your Christmas spirit away with your decorations. What would this world look like if everyone maintained the same spirit and attitude we display at Christmas time throughout the year?

God's carefully woven plan left me with $2 and blessed beyond measure

In November my aunt's mother passed away. She asked me to make a video slide show for the memorial service. I did the work without expectations of payment, but my aunt paid me anyway. I thought I'd use the extra money to buy a coat for a children's coat drive we were having at church. I had planned on taking the check to the bank on Tuesday and then going to Walmart afterwards to buy the coat. The Sunday before, I received the Walmart Black Friday circular via email and saw they were going to have the same coat on sale for just $8 on Black Friday. So I decided to wait and buy two coats instead of one.

I went to work that Monday excited about the upcoming holiday and shopping for those coats. After work I had to run to the feed store for some dog food and on the way home the water pump on my car went out. I had $24 and some change in my checking account; not enough for a water pump. First I tried the salvage yard, but they don't sell water pumps. So I checked around and found the cheapest one at Autozone. Tuesday afternoon I took the check my aunt had written me to the bank, which brought the total amount of cash in my checking account to $54. On the way home we stopped by Autozone to get a water pump. My parents were going to help pay for it since I didn't have much money. As the guy rang up the part I wondered how much my parents would have to contribute and was surprised to hear the man behind the counter tell me the total came to $52.

I couldn't believe it! God knew I was going to need that money from my aunt to fix my car, so he orchestrated the black Friday sale on children's coats just to keep me from spending the money before I needed it. He then made sure the amount in my checking account was just enough to cover the cost of the water pump.

While I was happy that I could pay for the water pump myself, I was still quite disappointed that I wasn't going to get to buy any coats for the kids. I thanked God for His provision and asked Him to give the coat drive a double blessing so the fact that I couldn't donate a coat wouldn't mean some kid didn't get a coat. He did just that! Our original goal was to donate 50 coats. After the final count, we had collected 100 coats to donate!

I thought I'd share this story to remind you that God doesn't just answer prayers; He provides for us before we even know there is a need. On top of all of the above mentioned God works, He has also given me several full days of work. I've had the opportunity to work many more days than I normally get this time of year.

This is just one interwoven story of how BIG and MIGHTY my God is and how He has displayed His power to us in recent weeks. God answers prayers; from the unknown to the big to the seemingly insignificant ones. He cares for all of our needs.


Merry Christmas and Happy Miracle Season!

Concussions and why I'm thankful

All the leftovers are just about gone and Thanksgiving is quickly fading into memory as Christmas approaches. This entry isn't about either of those holidays except that it looks back to a moment in my life that I'm still learning how thankful I am that it happened.

I've been watching and reading about the concern over concussions in sports recently. It seems like the sporting world including professional, collegiate, and youth sports have just now become aware of the dangers of concussions.  In recent years a handful of athletes have either died or suffered life altering brain damage due to a concussion. Even Hollywood lost a star when Natasha Richardson died after ignoring the signs of a concussion.

All of the recent attention given to concussions and making sure a player really is ready to return to the field has made me think back to a day 11 years ago. I had suffered my third concussion in three years, all during the course of a soccer game, and was in the doctor's office for a check-up just one week post injury. I was still suffering from headaches and bouts of dizziness so my doc said I had to sit out another week. Another week went by and I was still suffering those side effects. My parents had already mentioned they weren't sure I should play anymore, but I wasn't ready to listen. After my two week post injury check-up didn't result in a clearance to return to the field; my doctor told me that "at some point you have to decide if a game is more important that your life." I asked what he meant by that and he told me that he could not guarantee that I would survive another blow to the head and if I did I would most likely suffer significant brain damage. I sat there and took in what he had just said to me. When I told him my parents wanted me to quit playing. He said he thought that was a good idea. That was a Friday and on Monday I had to tell my coach and teammates that not only was I not going to be returning for the rest of the season, but I was done forever.

It took me a long time to accept that I could no longer play this game that had been such a big part of my life.

Now, after hearing about all the concern and all the debilitating injuries and deaths due to concussions, I have an even greater appreciation for my parents and my doctor who thought about my future when I was only thinking about the next game. Even though I hated it then, I am so thankful they made that decision for me. I am so thankful that they weren't willing to give in to my desire for immediate happiness in exchange for my long term happiness. I'm thankful that my parents and doctor where aware of the consequences of head injuries 11 years ago. The knowledge of concussions and their side effects is not knew, it has simply been ignored and those involved in athletics have been under educated about the dangers of concussions.

So really the point of this story is for the parents and loved ones of athletes. Don't ignore the symptoms of concussion after a head injury. Always be over cautious when it comes to head injuries. Moms, don't ignore your instincts. Take your kid to the doc and don't let your kid talk you into letting him/her play until the doctor says it's okay. Don't be afraid to pull them off the field if they start to have a headache or if they just don't feel right. Don't be afraid to actually be a parent. That's your job. They'll get over it and it might take a while, but eventually they'll be thankful that you did. It's been 11 years since my parents said I couldn't play anymore and while I've known for most of that time that they were right and it was the best decision to make; I've only recently become thankful for that decision.

Play, have fun, and be safe.

Merry Christmas,
~RLJ

A certain kind of crazy

         I read an editorial column in one of the local papers today that talked about living in and loving our state. The author, Dustin Hughes, discusses the fact that the state of Oklahoma (the land, not the government) doesn't want us here. He brings up how Oklahoma continuously throws tornados, poison ivy, copperheads, 104-degree summers (106 by my thermometer) and some questionable politicians at us. Mr. Hughes also mentions how Oklahoma "nearly succeeded in kicking us all out in the 30s as the Dust Bowl, combined with the Great Depression, drove many families to California"  He says it takes a certain amount of crazy to love this place, and he's right.

        Growing up I heard several friends talk of how they couldn't wait to get out of Oklahoma. Through the wonder of Facebook I have managed to "catch up" with many of them and for the most part the majority of them are still here in Oklahoma. Many have never left. I was one of the few that did get out of Oklahoma, however, when I left I always knew I would be coming back. When asked why I would want to go back to Oklahoma I could only answer one thing, "because it's a part of me and you can't just leave a piece of yourself lying around somewhere while you venture off to other places."  That answer is still true, but there's more to it now. 

         As I've aged and matured over the years and as things and people have changed around me, I've come to recognize a couple of things. The 1st being that I am a city girl and I would do just fine in a large metropolis. The 2nd is that inspite of number 1, I still LOVE living in Oklahoma. I love that the Arkansas River is wide and lazy as it meanders through this part of the country. At times it even seems to stand still. It is a perfect illustration of why I love Oklahoma. You see, here in Oklahoma, life moves a little bit slower than it does other places, especially in a large city. It's not because we're slow people or country bumpkins. It's because, on some level just a little bit more than others, we know how to enjoy life without all the bells and whistles of the city. We enjoy those things, but we also know how to slow life down and sit in one place all day long waiting to catch a fish and if no fish are caught, it is usually still considered a good day.

      Occasionally we do get a little more starstruck with celebrities, we might not always understand what the city folk are talking about, it takes us a year or more to catch up on the latest fashion trends, and yes, sometimes we add an extra syllable (or two) to our words. But you know what, that extra syllable stretches out the word and slows us down. It helps us stop to enjoy the sunset, it's how we can smell when it's going to rain, it's why we go outside to see if the weather man's right when he says a tornado's coming, and it's why we can spot the big dipper and then debate whether or not it's actually the little dipper while driving down an old, quiet highway.

      Yes I'm a city girl, but you can keep your bustling, never sleeps cities. I'll come visit every now and then, but I love the slow pace of Oklahoma and if that makes me a little insane, well then, I guess I am a certain kind of crazy.

Life Lessons

Much of my life has revolved around sports and when I try to explain something, sports analogies are what most often come to mind.  So, here we go.

Since the World Cup just ended, I'll start there.  In soccer, you fill in the space vacated by your teammate so there's someone there. When the original occupier of said space returns, you move back to your original position as well. Basically, you fill in the gap for a temporary time until the person who is supposed to be there can occupy the space.

Similarly, in baseball (since we are headed into the All-Star break), when the star athlete goes on the disabled list with an injury the guy on the bench or down in the minor leagues comes in and fills the vacancy.  The benchwarmer/rookie knows that his time there is temporary and that once the full time guy comes back from the DL there is no guarantee that he'll get anymore playing time. So again, you fill in where you're needed until a permanent arangement can be made. Just because a guy did a great job filling in when needed doesn't mean that he's the best guy for the job. Teams will still go out and sign a free agent if that's what they believe is best for the team.

You may be asking yourself, why am I sharing this lesson and what does it mean?

Some friends of mine are struggling with a situation where they were the ones that filled in when a vacancy came up. They did a great job and indeed did put their resume in for the full time position. Now, it looks like they aren't going to get the full time gig. In this particular case it's like a team going after a free agent. Yes, my friend did a great job filling in as an interim guy and the powers that be would love to offer him the position, but they also have to do what is best for the "team". The "Owner" of the team seems to be saying that He has someone else in mind for the job. My friend would classify this as his dream job, but like I've said before, our dreams and God's dreams for us don't always align with each other. He's not being asked to leave the team and he's not being hurt on purpose. It's always been known that the job wasn't guaranteed to be his when it came time to hire a full time guy. Yet it still hurts, he and his wife are still disappointed  and probably taking it a little too personally.

Now, I am not an emotionally charged person. I am a logical thinker. So it's easy for me to see and say these things. And I admit that sometime this makes me, albeit unintentionally, seem harsh. The fact is that there are a lot of life lessons that can be learned from sports and this is just one I hope my friends and many others can grasp and understand. The ultimate fact is that it's not about you, me, us or them, it's all about Him, the Lord of all, the Great I am. It comes down to what He wants to happen. It really is that simple. You can't view it as a blow to you. You have to see it as what's best for the Kingdom.

Lord, not my will, but your will be done.

~R

So, Now What?

It's a sad day when you realize the one thing you've been working towards the majority of your life isn't going to happen. Shaky hands = blurry pictures. Since this stupid disease hit me 5 years ago, my hands have not been quite as steady as they once were. However, I've still been able to take good pictures. The shakiness has gradually gotten worse even though it is still really only noticeable when I try to take a picture. I've tried all the tricks I've been taught over the years and they don't help. As long as I am touching the camera, there is shaking. I've spent my whole life working towards a career in photography and at this point in my life, I don't know what else to do. So, now what?

My Week in Review...Sort of.

It's been an interesting week. I've got pictures from Monday and Thursday, nothing happened on Tuesday, I just didn't take any pictures on Wednesday, and I was going to take some pictures Friday but ran into two obstacles named Shinka and Wrigley.

Monday: It was a nice day weather wise. I went to work for four hours and got off at 12:15. I went home and relaxed for a couple of hours and then went in search of something to photograph. There was a junior varsity baseball game going on at the high school and I found a hole in the fence where I could squeeze in and take some pictures. Baseball and photography: two of my favorite past times and I got to enjoy both simultaneously. :)

Sadly, the Tigers lost both games of a double header.

Thursday:  Thursday was a great weather day as well. I, again, worked part of the day and then got a little bit of rest before getting out in the world. Thursday afternoon/evening I took a couple of pictures of my niece for part of her Senior Pictures and then gathered with some friends to watch the latest episode of FlashForward, a television show on ABC that we've all been captivated by, and we also watched The Marriage Ref which is hilarious. Before the show I got to spend time with my best friends two boys. The downside of the night was that while watching The Marriage Ref, I laughed so hard that the pain in my throat returned after an almost two-week hiatus.

It's hard to capture a good smile from her. They always looked forced because she doesn't like to show her teeth. In this one, I told her to just relax and really, it's probably the best one.

I love this little guy.  Tanner would be the perfect subject for a photo shoot if you could just get him to stay still. A little bit more of his mouth and this would have been a perfect shot.

Tanner's baby brother, Denver. At 5 months old he's really starting to look like his momma.

This isn't exactly working out...

Okay this project 365 isn't going so well. It has made me look at the world while thinking "that would be a good shot", but I just can't get myself to carry a camera everywhere. Anyway, I'll keep trying. Here are a few of the shots I did get over the last week.

Watching TV with Wrigley

A late winter storm hit the area. The day before it was 73 degrees outside.

the Arkansas River

Wrigley out in the snow

Shinka had tons of fun out in the snow

This was just a few days after the snow. Everything is starting to look green again!

Days 1-3

Okay here are two of the first three days from project 365. I don't have anything from Thursday as I slept literally all day. Sometimes my body just needs to recharge.

On Wednesday I spent the entire day at Angus Church. We had a youth workday which was semi-successful. The kids vacuumed and cleaned the sanctuary in the morning and after lunch they tackled staining the playground equipment. We learned that 6th grade girls should not be allowed to paint or stain anything. Even with supervision they couldn't follow instructions and got stain everywhere.

These particular girls were eventually removed from the project and sent to scrub the bathrooms.

On Friday, I took full advantage of the weather and my fully recharged body, and I took Wrigley for a walk. We only made it one mile, but it was a much needed bit of excercise for both of us. When we got home I took a cool shower to wash off the heat and sweat. Then I decided to cook dinner. I made Taco stuff and then attempted a new recipe for peach cobbler. My peach Cobbler was GREAT! It's not quite as good as it is when the person that gave me the recipe makes it, but it still makes the mouth water.

It isn't all that pretty, but it tastes amazing!

One a day for 365....

I've been trying to come up with something to do. Something that would give me a topic to post about once a day for a year. I don't have the energy or cash to pull a Julie & Julia stunt and go through a cookbook. So I was thinking what might I be interested in doing once a day for a year? There's the "read the bible" in a year plan, which I need to do anyway, and then there's Project365. A photo a day that relates to what I did, who I met, and where I went. This could actually be challenging. There are some days that I don't leave the house. So finding something to photograph that describes my day differently than every other day could prove to be quite difficult. Also, I will have to back into the habit of taking a camera with me everywhere I go. I haven't done that since high school. So look for the first photo post tomorrow, March 17, 2010. St. Patrick's Day 2010 will be the beginning of this project. I will post atleast once a week and there will be atleast one photo for each day. I will try to post every day, but there will be times that doesn't happen, so once a week is my promise.

Apathy

Lately I've been feeling quite apathetic. Not really towards my own life but towards others. It sounds like I'm being selfish and self absorbed, but I don't even feel like what's going on in my life is more important than anyone else's life. I'm just in a mood where I don't care. I get this way from time to time. I don't want to hear about your problems. I deal with my own issues 24 hours a day I don't want to add yours to my restless brain. What's worse is that even though I know I'm in this mood, when I see other people being apathetic it drives me nuts. I can't stand it. Now, let be clear. I don't like feeling this way. When I get in this mood I also feel like I'm being a horrible person. Typically, when someone asks me to pray for something, it is very natural and easy to do. When I'm in my apathy shadow I have to force myself to follow through with the prayers after I have started several times only to stop and tell myself I'll do it later. This shade of gray is not me. It's not my personality and it's definitely not who I want to be. I'm sorry if you've fallen victim to this alternate identity I resort to on occasion. It is never my intention to be anything less than interested in other people. Here's hoping a nice strong wind comes through and blows this cloud away soon.

I am a SPORTS fan.

I am a sports fan. I'm not the crazy, insane, rowdy fan you often see with face and body painted. I'm also not just a casual fan of one or two specific teams.  I am a SPORTS fan. I'll watch any sport. Yes I have my favorites, soccer and baseball are at the top and I follow my teams as closely as my life allows without it becoming an obsession.  I'm the fan that knows the backstory of a team or athlete. I may not have stats memorized, but I know who's had a good year and who hasn't. While I've watched almost every sport out there, I'm still not sure why poker gets air time on ESPN....

My love of sports is something that was passed down to me from my dad. The story is that as a baby, my mom would be out of hands and patience after dealing with three kids and she would plop me down in my dad's lap and say "it's your turn." I would then be perfectly content sitting in the brown leather recliner with my dad as he yelled at the tv. He taught me to love the game, not just a team. However, we do have "our" teams. At some point when I was growing up, my mom and sister banned my dad and I from watching sports together in the same room. We would both get so involved in the game and would be yelling at the TV together. Apparently we got a little loud. So now we watch the same game just in different rooms. This hasn't stopped our yelling and, if anything, it has made it worse. Now we not only yell at the tv, but we yell at each other down the hallway. Not too long ago I stayed several days at a friend's house during a heavy snow storm. My sister later relayed to me that my dad was watching the Razorback basketball game and would yell down the hallway as if I were there. She said at one point he came down the hall and started talking to her about the game like he does with me and although she gave it her best effort, it wasn't the same and she could tell he missed me being there. Sports are the base of my relationship with my dad. While my brother, sister and I were all athletes growing up, the two of them aren't huge sports fans. They'll get into a game every now and then, but for the most part they could care less.  My brother and sister also tend to have a bit of a volatile relationship with our dad. Sometimes I wonder if that would be different if they were sports fans. Afterall, sport is what brings the world together.

Perhaps my favorite time of year isn't a "time of year" at all. The Olympic Games only occur every two years, alternating between the Summer and Winter Olympiads.  Every two years I spend approximately 12 days in tears. You see, I'm not just a sports fan, I love everything that goes into sports. The unmeasurable elements that drive athletes to push themselves a little bit farther than the day before. Those stories of the underdog overcoming obstacles and rising to the top of his or her field, the kid that gets up for practice every morning because his disabled brother can't, and the stories of redemption when an athlete misses their "best" opportunity due to illness, injury, or a bad day are all the things that find their way into my heart and bring tears to my eyes.

 I remember watching a movie with my mom and sister about a group of teenagers whose bus gets caught in a flood on their way home from church camp. In this movie, which was based on a true story, several of the teenagers died in the flood. At the end of the movie both my mom and sister were in tears. I was barely affected at all and my sister claimed I must have a "heart of stone." To this day stories like that rarely affect me, but I cry everytime I watch Miracle, Glory Road, Gracie, We Are Marshall, and several other sports movies. I even cry reading feature stories on ESPN.com that usually turn into their Outside the Lines segments. There's just something about sports that touches the very core of me. 

Over the next two weeks, my television will be tuned into NBC a majority of the time. I've already watched men's and women's moguls, cross country alpine skiing, speed skating long and short track, pairs figure skating, men's singles luge, and women's hockey. Add to that the Opening Ceremony and it's pretty much been all olympics all the time here at my house. I once asked my mom if she knew when she married my dad that she would become a weekend widow due to sports. She said she knew my dad would spend much of his weekends watching one sporting event after another, but she never thought she'd lose a daughter to the same affliction.

While I haven't yet met the man God has intended for me to marry, I hope and pray that he is able to understand what happens to me when the Cubs game is on tv during the summer and on Saturdays during college football season, and during these two weeks every two years when the world comes together to compete in the Olympic Games. Hopefully he'll understand that I am a sports fan.

Have fun at The Party Steph. I'll see you later.

I write tonight with a heavy heart that is both sad with grief and full of joy at the same time. My dear friend, Stephanie, lost her fight with cancer this evening. She was a great soul who filled the room with life. My sadness stems from the knowledge she is no longer here with us and for the heartache her husband, siblings, and parents must be feeling. The Bible tels me that Joy comes in the morning. This, I celebrate. Stephanie is chillin' with the Savior, the One who has Victory over death. I love my Heavenly Father so much more tonight knowing He has finally brought healing to Steph's body.

I will remember our days at UofA together. Bible study and Thursday night dinners in the union. I will remember her running barefoot through the snow while on a mission trip to Detroit. I will remember how beautiful she was on her wedding day. I will remember her generosity and her humor. I will remember her friendship forever.

Have fun at The Party Steph. I'll see you later.

I Can't Stand It!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I Can't Stand It! Stop listening to people and start listening to God. He'll tell you who's true and who's false. Be slow to speak and quick to listen especially if you've been doing most of the talking.

I don't know if anyone even reads this blog, but I'm just so sick of some of the things that have been going on lately.  A large number of vulnerable hearts have fallen victim to this tragedy that has been built by gossip, anger, lies, and confusion. My fear is that so many of them allowed their feelings to control their reaction. You can't allow your feelings to dictate your decisions, because feelings can be easily steered in the wrong direction.

My problem is not with what has happened. I have tried to move on. However, it is difficult to move on from this because others refuse to. They keep talking about it and they're talking about it in a manner that clearly states which side of the line they want to be standing on. Yet some of them, just can't bring themselves to commit to their side. They keep stradling the fence. I don't care which side you've chosen, but stay or go. If you stay, be supportive of those on that side of the line. If you go, be supportive of the ones that are standing with you. Most importantly, STOP TRASHING THE OTHER SIDE!

This whole mess is creating undue stress in my life. Stress is one thing I have to limit or else my physical health will be affected. So if you can't be supportive, then just keep your mouth shut. The Bible tells us to be slow to speak and quick to listen. If we would all practice that instruction more often, we probably wouldn't even be in this mess.

What am I doing? Or, should I be doing this?

What am I doing? Or Should I be doing this?

Writing. It's not necessarily my greatest talent, but then again maybe it is and I'm just not aware of it yet.
The past few days I've felt the need to put some thoughts down on paper (or screen as the case may be). The last time I felt like this I was a freshman in college and the Twin Towers had just crumbled to the ground like a house of cards. My point is that I don't often get the urge to write which makes me believe I'm not a writer. Then a few recent conversations filter through my brain and I start to wonder. Do I really have nothing to say or am I keeping a wealth of knowledge and wisdom the Lord has bestowed upon me to myself? If the answer is the latter of the two, then why?
People often comment about how quiet I am or that I don't say much. Some people are extremely irritated by this personality trait of mine. They just can't stand that I'm not speaking my mind. I have to wonder what is in my head that makes my opinions and thoughts so important to them. Most of the time, I don't say anything because I truly have nothing to add to the conversation. Other times, I don’t say what I’m thinking because it will most likely come across as hurtful or mean. I don’t intend to be hurtful or mean, but I hate apologizing because of my opinion. If you ask me what I think and I answer, I don’t believe you are allowed to be hurt or offended by what I say. Yet too many times I’ve given my opinion and somebody ends up hurt by my words. This makes me hold them even closer to my heart. I don’t want to hurt someone. Not because I’m a people pleaser, which I am, but because it is not my goal or job to tear someone down or step on their dreams. It is not my job to judge others. The Lord Himself will tell us if we’ve made him proud or if we should have done it differently. In my world, His opinion is the only one that I should be truly concerned with and that is why I don’t understand why people are so curious to know what I think.
Allow me for a moment to contradict that last statement, because I should be concerned about what others think of me. What if I’m the only picture of Jesus that they get to see or hear? How do I want my Savior, my King to be portrayed? So, yes, I should care about what others think of me. I want and need Him to be my reflection to the world, otherwise those words I tuck under my tongue come out and people do get hurt. That’s not my job here.
Okay, back to writing, thinking, and speaking. I don’t write much, I don’t speak much, and now that I think about it, I don’t think much either. I try not to contemplate on life and the world too much because it just invites stress and worry about things I cannot change. So most of the time when I don’t speak, it’s because what ever the topic of choice is, I don’t really think about it much and thus truly have nothing to say about it. I try to live my life a moment at a time, each second as it comes to me. This is probably a great contributor to the reason that at two months shy of 27, I still don’t feel like a grown-up.
When I am asked a question and have time to think and choose my words carefully, I do try to give my best answer. Often times these responses are greeted with something like “wow, she doesn’t speak very often, but when she does it’s so wise” or something similar. People seem amazed that this quiet person sitting on the end of the couch who hardly ever speaks can dole out such wisdom. Especially when that quiet person at the end of the couch isn’t married, has never even been in a serious relationship, doesn’t have children, and still lives at home with mom and dad. That’s okay though. I probably wouldn’t think they knew much about photography if they’ve never picked up more than a point and shoot camera. So, I guess it balances out. Neither they nor I are right though. I do know a bit about human nature and the dynamic of relationships, and just because someone has never picked up a camera doesn’t mean they don’t know what would make a good photograph.
I’m sorry if I’ve rambled a little bit. I don’t know why I ramble, it’s not me. I think it comes from people trying to force me to talk more. I’m just not much of a talker. I never have been. Holding a conversation with people, even with my best friend, is awkward for me. There, I said it. I am socially awkward. I always have been. While I am a relatively intelligent person and once upon a time I was a pretty fantastic athlete (if I do say so myself), I seem to have made my way in life on the wings of a friendly smile. For some reason, as a child I did not talk unless I was spoken to first. This is not something my parents taught me, so I don’t know where I picked it up from. But for as long as I can remember, I’ve heard those same comments about being quiet; and I guess it has just stuck with me over the years.
Back to what this is all about. I try to contemplate life, I really do. Honestly though, when I do start to contemplate life my mind almost always goes blank. I think this is a gift from God. Really I do. The biggest issues and concerns in my life are typically related to my health, an area of my life I’ve given over to God. I think He doesn’t allow these things to enter my mind when I start to contemplate life because He knows it will only cause me stress and worry.
The things that do come to my mind are about what’s missing. This might get a little confusing so hold on. Nothing is missing from my life because I have all I need in Jesus, but there are things I’m missing. They are things He wants for me. I’m either not listening hard enough or I’m not recognizing something that is blocking me from Him. So, I wonder, am I a writer? As I write this I keep asking myself what am I doing? Or, should I be doing this? I’m still not convinced I’m a writer. These bothersome thoughts that provoke inches of words to appear on my screen come few and far between. Who would even take this journey through my mind? What is it that I’m supposed to be doing?