The Odyssey: 12 Ways to Keep Calm in the Chaos

Hey friends!
This is going to be a short post. I just wanted to let you all know that I have started writing for The Odyssey. I will probably still post a few things here, but I will often just give you guys a post with a link to my article, and a small excerpt of my article! Thanks for being interested in my words!!!

This is my first article-- let me know what you thnk!!!

12 Ways To Keep Calm in the Chaos

"What the majority is saying is not always the best belief of course of action. Have your own voice and do your own thing."

https://www.theodysseyonline.com/12-way-to-keep-calm-in-the-chaos

Just a ripped page of my heart.

I'm pretty sure I should have depression, but I don't let myself think about it too much... I had to fight it my whole life without meds or anything, and now everyone who knows me thinks I have a resilience level beyond measure, and sure, maybe I do. But I don't quite feel like I belong. And joy is incredibly hard for me to feel.


And here's the thing, at the end of the day when I am laying in bed alone I think about what happened that day-- the highs and lows. And I want to tell someone what the best thing about my day was. Or something small that made me smile, smile, smile. Or some tragic thing that wrecked my heart. But here's the thing, I don't have anyone to tell... there's people in my life that care about me, and they don't do it intentionally, but most of the time I tell them something and they dismiss it because they are busy, they're on their phone, or it is something that they just simply don't care about. So they don't acknowledge my words or reply... but every time that happens, my heart sinks a little.


It sinks because that thing was important to me. I don't say very much that my heart isn't attached to-- I try not to pollute the air with meaningless words when we live in a world that never stops talking anyway. Most of what I say has been thought about a great deal before I tell you, because (I over think everything) and I don't want to "bother" you. So when I do say something, no matter how small and meaningless it may seem to you , I was putting my heart out there on the line.


At the end of the day, I don't have anyone to tell these big and little things that are attached to my heart to. And I get lonely. But I'm afraid to reach out to someone for fear of being "too much," or "annoying," or "clingy." So I live in my head. I live in my head, and my head never shuts up. I'm always thinking about something--- how amazing God is that He made oceans and grapes that eventually make wine, how dogs just constantly love people and how they know when people aren't safe or someone is upset, how the world is quickly falling further and further into a deep abyss of hate and selfishness, or how lonely I feel. It never shuts up. And while being in my head can be beneficial at times, it can also be a sad and cold and lonely place.


I have a bunch of acquaintances and several people I pour into, but not very many people that love on me. Not very many at all. Don't get me wrong, I love being there for others, but someone to think of me every now and again would be refreshing.


And I fear that I'm not the only person who feels this way. It is those who have pushed through the deep muck and mire that will love others deeply, listen intently, and pour abundantly, it is those that are constantly pouring and giving that feel this way. We are the ones awake at 2AM, silently crying, wishing someone would listen or ask us... just every now and again...


We are your friends and family.


We are the person you pass on the street.


We are thinkers.


2AM was made for us.


We are the aching hearts.


We are lonely.


We are lovers.


We are dedicated.


We are persistent.


We are fighters.

The Orlando shooting is NOT about the gun.

I am not someone who likes to post about "hot topics" on social media. It creates too much drama, and I try to dodge enough of that in my "real life," I don't need it on the interwebs. But there has been a lot of talk about gun control after the Orlando shooting.

First, let me say how deeply grieved I am that precious lives were lost, and that my heart is hurting for the friends and family of those victims-- I cannot imagine the pain and the fear that they may be feeling right now. And I want to say that I am so sorry. There are no words that can undo what has happened and the lives that were lost. Nothing that will take this pain away. This was an act of injustice and a cruelty beyond measure. There is absolutely NO way to justify this shooting,as there never is for any shooting. This world needs a lot more love to go around, and a lot less hate and terrorism.

Secondly, I want to offer the LGBTQ community an apology on behalf of the Christians. I
am sorry for how you have been treated. For the words that have been said to you. And the disapproving looks you have received. We have been in the wrong. And I am sorry for that same people who have passed these judgments and given you those glares in the past are #prayingforOrlando now. We should offer you love at all times. And pray for you at all times. Not just when there is deep hurt and deep loss happening.

I serve a God of love and grace and forgiveness and mercy. He always welcomes home a wayward son. He wants to meet you with open arms. And while the Bible teaches against what you believe and live does not mean that I am not commanded and led to show you that same love and grace and forgiveness and mercy that my Father gives to me. The Bible gives Christians two commandments that are above all else--- to love God and to love others. To love God AND to love OTHERS. It does not say "to love others, unless..." It simply says to love them. And the Bible is not talking about just some plain love-- the kind of love that you refer to when you are saying how much you love pizza or doughnuts-- it is talking about Christ- like love-- agape love. An unconditional love. A love that does not have ANY prerequisites or standards.

The church may have hurt you deeply in any number of ways. But they may have thrown the "sin" card in your face (and while sin is an important thing to be aware of and to repent of it is not the first thing we should tell someone to draw them into love. You were not "scared" into salvation, if you were I am sorry. I was shown love and grace and then learned about sin and repentance not long after). Anyhow, if the church has hurt you, I am so sorry. As a Christian I am appalled that Christians throw shade before showering you with love, because I know that I need the love and grace of Jesus just as much, if not more, than you do.

Lastly, these are the words that I fear are going to get a lot of bad "mojo" sent my way... there has been a lot of talk about gun rights and restricting those rights, etc...

But... a gun is a gun, just as a pen is a pen. Both objects can be used to hurt and kill others, but neither one of those things will hurt or kill others without someone picking it up and using it for that manner.

I am a gun owner and I have a permit to conceal and carry. My gun has never hurt anyone, and it never will unless I pick it up because I feel as if my life is in immediate and serious danger. And I feel as if I have the right to own that gun.

It pains me to know that guns have been used to kill innocent people. To commit horrific acts of terrorism. Guns should be used for very few things in life-- to hunt, the protect yourself if your person is in immediate and serious danger, and the occasional shooting at the range to train and brushen up your skills.

Do I believe that background checks should be done to buy a firearm? ABSOLUTELY. Do I think that an EXTENSIVE background check should be done? YES, YES, YES! Am I for those who are one terrorist watch list should not be allowed to purchase a firearm? That's where it gets tricky--- the terrorist watch list consists of first and last names. I know people who have he same first and last name . Several of them actually. And so if someone has the same name as a person on the terrorist watch list they cannot buy a gun.

In example, if my law-abiding, permit-owning, friend, Sarah Smith wants to buy a firearm for self defense (because she was raped, assaulted, she feels a threat of that sort, or she just wants to be cautious), but Sarah Smith three states over is on the terrorist watch list, my friend cannot purchase that firearm for self defense.

In Pennsylvania you are required to have an ID that has your name, picture, birthday, and a few other details to even undergo background checks to purchase a firearm (I an unfamiliar with other state policies). Why can't the terrorist watch list include a birth-date, a social, something to decrease the denial of rights to law abiding Sarah Smith, but restrict those rights of suspected terrorist Sarah Smith?

The Orlando shooting is NOT about the gun. Not even by the skin of the teeth. It was an act of violence, of hate, of fear, of terrorism. An injustice done. It is about grieving those precious, precious lives and souls of those victims. About tending to those wounds and showing love-- lots and lots of love during this trying time for friends and families of those lost. Let's come together as a community, no matter how diverse in belief or appearance, come together and grieve together.

Give hugs and dry tears. Affirm pain and just show up for those in the LGBTQ community-- no matter where you are.

Traffic doesn't move any faster if you lay on your horn.

I went out to eat with some people the other day and we ordered our food. About 15 minutes had passed and one person I was with started to get impatient that their food wasn't here yet. And it got me thinking-- you cannot cook 3 different meals for three different people in 15 minutes when you are at home-- so what makes us think that they can do it that fast in a restaurant?

Which had me thinking about the bigger picture. As Americans, we are very impatient. We are always striving for bigger, better, stronger, and faster-- we want instant gratification and when we do not have our full three course meal in 12 minutes we start to freak out. Or when we have to stand in a line longer than three people long we start to let out sighs, make remarks to the other people in line in hopes to get some agreement, and we stand with annoyed posture to try and give the other employees a not-so-subtle indication that we want another register open. We get annoyed with the cashier when they make a small mistake, or yell at the pharmacist that has the "pleasure" of telling us that our insurance company won't pay for a refill until Saturday.

I am a fairly patient person, but I feel like I am an exception rather than the rule because I see the people around me. I see their postures and hear their chide comments.

Or I hear the cashier apologize four or five times when the credit card machine restarts itself. Or I see that expecting-the-worst face when the pharmacist says that my insurance company won't pay for my prescription for another two days. But I also see that wave of relief wash over their face when I say, "No, you're fine!" and then followed by a "Have a nice day!" when my transaction is complete.

I may not know a lot with only 21 years under my belt, but here is what I do know:

You are not better than the janitor or the cashier.

You are not entitled to anything.

Just because someone else is cooking does not mean that our food is going to be done in 5 minutes.

A line of five people will NOT kill you.

A smile will not damage your face.

A delayed payment by insurance is not the pharmacists problem. Don't shoot the messenger.

Being nice to someone doesn't take anymore time out of your day than being mean to someone.

We seek connection from others as people.

Eating a meal without looking at your cell phone isn't going to kill you. And neither will a walk without headphones.

A smile uses less muscles than a frown.

People love getting random surprises-- don't be afraid to buy someone a gift just because they cross your mind.

What you give is what you get.

Just because society thinks that "resting bitch face" is cool doesn't mean that you can't smile.

Traffic doesn't move any faster if you lay on your horn. Take that time to listen to your favorite song. Or to jam out to some Taylor Swift!

Rain won't stop just because you complain that you want sun.

Someone who is nice to you, but mean to the waiter, is not a nice person.

Even the offenders need a listening ear, the love of Jesus, and rehabilitation.



I could go on and on, but you get the point.


What happened to patience being a virtue? Just because it is a virtue does not mean that we should not be working to obtain that virtue. Why is southern hospitality reserved for only the south? Show other people some love. Be kind when the whole world is throwing shade every direction. And open your heart to others-- when you put a cage around your heart, you may keep that pain out, but you also keep the love out.

Sun, sand, salt water... and swim suit season?

Hey friends,
I bought a new swim suit the other day in preparation of my two beach trips coming up this summer... I know, I know. The dreaded swim suit season.

I cannot speak for men, but for women this is a time that awaits as soon as the previous season ends. It lurks in the darkness, ready to attack-- especially at the beginning of January after all of the holiday food goodness.

We chastise ourselves for eating that second piece of pumpkin pie, that cookie after 8:00pm, or that third glass of wine. And then it is March. And then April. And finally it is May and we really have to start thinking about vacations, and so we dig out the old faithful. That swim suit that you have had since... well forever because you don't want to shop for a new one. But to your dismay it is over stretched and there are a few holes in it, so you are forced to look for a new one.

Who made up swim suit sizes anyway? They're not like jeans or dresses, and why do they show so much skin? That one looks like half of your undergarments! You need a medium in bottoms and a large on the top-- so whole pieces are tricky; you fill out the bottom just fine, but why is there all of this extra space on top? You've never been so aware of how small (or large) your breasts are until this very moment standing in that dressing room. You're either popping out, or you can't fill the extra space. So you try on another suit. This one makes you feel just as insecure as the last one.

As I went through this process the other day, with nine different swim suits, I found one I liked, but then I wondered if other people would think it looked okay, or if they would judge me or make fun of me while I was reading on the beach. And then it hit me-- I cannot remember what one person was wearing when I was at the beach last year.

Let me tell you something my sweet friends, when you are laying in that sand,  people couldn't care less what you look like. Why would they? There is an entire ocean in front of them!

I don't even remember the color of someone's suit let alone what they looked like in it. But what I do remember is the sun warming my bare shoulders, the waves kissing my toes, and the sand sticking to every single thing I had with me!

So my dear ones, buy that new suit! Find one that you like and wear it proud! If you want a bikini, tankini, or whole piece, get one! If you feel comfortable in it, go for it.

Society tells us rhat we have to look like a  Victoria's Secret model that has been airbrushed and photo shopped so much that she can't even recognize herself on the bilboard in front of her. Society tells us that a "plus sized," ahem, average woman cannot wear a bikini. But she can. YOU can.

How you look in a swim suit, or a dress, or a pair of skinny jeans is NOT a prerequisite for your beauty or worth.

There are not prerequisites for your beauty or worth-- you were created by a divine Creator who gives you worth just because He made you, and sees you as more beautiful than you could ever imagine. So much more than what you look like in some stupid piece of polyester and spandex.

So when you start to feel insecure in the dressing room trying on swim suit number 15, try to remember what the stranger next to you on the beach last year looked like, and when you can't, go ahead and buy that suit! Find your worth in Christ and your beautiful spirit will radiate from within you!

Listen to those little whispers. Comparison is the thief of joy.

Today after church, I was sitting on my bed playing my newly bought ukulele. I was playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and Amazing Grace for up-teenth time in the last two weeks, and I still can't move chords smoothly.

Despite my inability to change chords smoothly I looked up a tutorial for "Holy Spirit" by Francesca Battistelli (or Jesus Culture if you know that version). We sang this song in church this morning and I really want to be able to play it... to my dismay there were some chords that I do not know yet that are too complicated for me right now, and I am still kind of trying to get the hold of different strumming patterns.

I kept looking for an easier version that maybe I could just start to play-- I stumbled across a little girl, maybe eight or nine, playing the song on her ukulele. I clicked on the link hoping that it would be a little easier because she was younger. I was never so wrong in my life; turns out this little girl was really skilled at ukulele, piano, and drums and has been for a while.

That's when the lies started to creep in... I started to wonder, "Why can't I be naturally gifted at playing instruments?" "Why am I trying to even learn, I can't read music anyway." "You're never going to be that good. You wasted your money." "You can't do anything that well."

Those lies circled around in my head for a few minutes, and then I heard that still small voice whisper to my heart. I heard my Abba tell me that I need not to compare myself to others. Especially not their highlight wheels to my behind the scenes-- that little girl has been playing since she was five or six. I have been playing for two weeks. Yes, she may be more gifted than I will ever be in music, but I will get better than I am right now. I closed Youtube on my phone and ran through Twinkle Twinkle Little Star several more times and Amazing Grace once or twice until my finger tips were sore. I'm not exactly the gifted type, but I do have persistence and determination.

I may not have been created to play uke as well as that little girl or to have the same complexion as someone else. I have been created to be me. I may not be naturally gifted in music, academics, singing, sports, or any number of other things, but I have been created by the Father and let me tell you something about my Abba-- He loves me deeply. And He did not mistakenly create me. There is a call on my life and I have purpose in this world.

I have been created with resilience and persistence. With determination and empathy. I have been purposed to encourage, to love, and to speak Truth. And there is a deep call on my life to love the Lord, to worship Him, and to share Him. To be ever seeking to be more and more like Him. I am called to be His child.

These last few days have been hard and there have been some tears shed because I was in a vulnerable state and the enemy saw my hurting heart and took advantage of that with everything that he has. I was too broken to fight back, but I kept asking the Lord to let me lean into His comfort and that His arms would wrap around me. I had a wonderful woman of God pouring love and truth over my heart at the time, but I couldn't stop the tears. I didn't have what it took to stand back up in those hard places, and my mind was being flood with memories from my childhood when I was in those same hurting places. My gram once told me to wrap my arms around myself and give myself a hug when I was hurting and imagine that she was hugging me (I went through a sticky divorce where I wasn't allowed to talk to or see the other side of the family for a week until I switched houses). I would do this very often as a child. And I have found myself doing it again now. As I did this the other day I felt a comfort that the Lord was holding me close and I was hugging Him back.

I say all of this because what I was feeling was a product of comparing myself to other people and it broke me down. Comparison is the thief of joy; the enemy quickly sweeps in and grabs a foothold in your self-doubt. But the Father wants you to come to Him; even when you are hurting too much from those comparisons you have spoken over your life or someone else has spoken over you, He wants to love and comfort you. He wants whisper those truths to your weary heart (literally or He may use other people to tell you those truths).

I am not those lies the enemy was shouting at me left and right, but I am those small whispers of truths... I am worth more than earthly things. I can find joy. I fit in just fine, I am so very LOVED, I am not isolated, but connected, I am a leader. And the tears will stop.

When I stopped looking at my comparison wheel and the scarcity that is there, I was able to hear those precious, precious words from the Father. I was able to get out of bed and dust myself off. I pushed through the times I felt the tears starting to well up again throughout the day. I had a late lunch/ early dinner with one of my best friends-- that is probably the thing that I needed the most (physically) that day. Solid conversation with a solid woman of God who is also such a solid friend.

Let me speak some truth over you right now my sweet, sweet friend. You are so very loved. SO LOVED. And there is nothing that you can do that will ever change how loved you are. There is a call on your life and you are purposed. You are connected. And there are always open arms waiting for you to run into them. You are not those lies screaming in your head, but listen to those little whispers. Don't compare yourself; you were created uniquely you and there is no one else that you should be. Sending my love!

An open letter to my [used to be] step mom and the family that fell apart.

Hey you,

It's been a while...

There was a time when we were closer, when we used to make memories together-- when we used to be family. There was a very long stretch of time when we were apart of each others lives.

There are memories that you are a part of and they aren't much of a memory if I take you out of it. There would be a big gaping hole in the memory (or no memory at all) if I did that. We had so much history together.

10 years worth of memories-- good and bad, but that is what it is like with family. I always thought that is what we used to be, anyway.

I used to think about my future when I was a little girl. I always had a discord between who was going to do the things that a mother does on my wedding day. I felt so torn because my mom was my mom, but you were just as much as a mom to me, but I guess this doesn't matter anymore. I imagined that the girls would be my bridesmaids-- I always tried to understand the bond you have with your sisters with them, but I felt like an outsider a lot of the time. It wasn't their fault, it's just how it was. It's hard to take two families and make them into one without there being some kind of disconnection.

But we were a family none the less-- dysfunctional and awkward at times, but we share laughter and tears together. We share pain and joy together. Memories that cannot be forgotten. There are things that I can't look at without thinking of you. And there are still things that you bought me-- I thought about this a lot when I was making my coffee this morning. You bought me that Keurig several years ago as a surprise for no apparent reason. Just because I kept asking for months on months...

I don't have these moments of sweet, painful nostalgia often, but every now and again they pierce me right through the heart and it hits me. It hits me time and time again. We will most likely never have a relationship, of any kind, ever again.

I wonder if you ever experience and feel the same thing?

There are times that I question why you just walked away-- there was no reason; no closure. I tried to keep the relationship strong, but there is only so much someone can do. I go through phases of anger, but my heart is filled with mostly hurt. I thought of you as a mother figure since I was 7 years old, and I still do sometimes. There are times that I still refer to you as a step mother, and the question of how many siblings I have is something that I will never be able to answer without thinking about it more than once-- do I say 2 or do I say 4? 2. I say 2. The pain seers through me like a razor cuts through paper-- clean through and precise.

And when I really think about it-- it wasn't your fault. It wasn't my fault. It just was. It just is. Things happen and people leave. That's just what we do-- sometimes it is intentional and other times it just happens, slowly and quietly-- you are standing in the middle of a firm, strong, bridge one minute and the next thing you notice is that you are on opposite sides looking at the rubble and the remaining hot ashes wondering what happened. Wondering how we got to a place where we pretend that we don't know each other.

I'm sorry we drifted apart, but remember that I will always love you.