I was here

Enter: little Baby Girl Doe. I am sure I came in to the world screaming like a banshee and that was an entrance to be the story of my life. I was Baby Girl Doe for a 17 days because I am adopted. I was chosen by my family to complete the perfect family picture. They wanted a baby girl to add to the two boys they had already and got me, Cynthia.

There is a lot of speculation as to the details and since I was but, a wee baby of one or two, I can not say what is truth. Which brings me to a truth in and of itself: the thing about truth is...truth comes from interpretation; you and I could go through the same day but, our truth would be different because of our perspective and our interpretation thereof. So, as I tell my story, my siblings and parents have their own story which probably does not look like mine because of age, maturity, knowledge and perspective. Our truth or story is biased by our emotion and perspective that is what makes it ours. Sharing my story is about sharing the intimate details of what shaped me so that maybe someone out there may not feel so alone or might just learn something from my mistakes or maybe... they will see hope in the midst of my beautiful disaster of a life.

let's fast forward  and let me just sum up the first few years as this: there was an adoption and a family of five completed. Then, there was a divorce and a broken family divided. Then soon after,
a new family of 7 came together but, stayed broken and shattered. I was the lucky one, I was the baby and I did not know the pain and destruction that reeked havoc on the lives of those before me. There was not one person left un-scarred and all were emotionally crucified.

I do know one thing now, I know why. I have wondered for years what it was; Why I did I not bond with my Mother...I can see it now. I could not bond with someone who was emotionally unavailable and until this moment, I did not know why. I have scoured my soul for why I seem ambivalent towards her, why I am numb to her pain, her loneliness and her situation in general. I mean I have felt like it was me, like I was this horrible person or that she was this horrible person that I hated and that made me even more horrible. I could not understand why I have emotional ties to everyone in my story but, her...I can not explain it, maybe to everyone else I was the only thing that was not part of the initial destruction but an innocent? either way I did not stay an innocent for too long and reeked plenty of havoc of my own.

My mom however, is the way she is for a reason and the way she connects emotionally is: with men. She can bond with a man in an instant and forgo all else to be and transform into whatever she thinks will please that man. I don't think she planned it that way, I think she was raised to be like that. It is her downfall though because it keeps her from ever seeing the beauty in who she could have been and the happiness she could have had if only, she had chosen to let go of fantasy and live in reality. She is an amazing woman that taught me that no matter what people say you can do, no matter what forces may rage against you...you can. I have seen her accomplish many incredible things and when she puts her mind to something, watch out, come hell or high water she will get what she wants.

My Father, well he was the one I always wanted to be with. I can not  explain the complexity of that whole relationship because I am still learning it. He was a solid but soft man. Hard at times and then almost broken at times. He is smart, always looking for more to learn. He is set in his ways a bit of a introvert with a hint of extrovert with the right people. He is skeptical and questioning but, supportive. See. its all a bit confusing still.

Most frequently asked question of an adoptee: Did you feel adopted? No. not until 3rd grade. It  was Monday and I had spent all weekend wondering why I felt so left out. My heart actually ached and I did not comprehend why, nor should I have. So I was probably really erratic all weekend because I was feeling with emotions I had no idea how to deal with. When Monday came and it was time for school I was still a wreck. You see, my brother Mark's father (Mom's 2rd husband) John came in to town to visit Mark and all I wanted was to be with then too. Not the normal, they are doing something fun and I felt left out, more like, my heart was actually in pain, I was crushed left out. I was missing a large piece of the puzzle and my parents were about to fill me in. Dad cancelled part of his day and Mom was up and ready as they sat me down.

We had a sun room that separated the master from the rest of the upstairs and this is where my parents sat me down to clue me in to a part of my story I was much too young to know. I remember the bright white and pastel flower upholstery on the couch, the big paned full windows and that I must have been quite a force to be reckoned with for all of this to come about on a school day. I am not sure of all that was said but, this...Cyndi, you are adopted, you know that, what you don't know is that your Mother and John adopted you first as a baby. they were happily married and began the process of adoption which took a year. Within that year things got bad and they decided to divorce but, chose to stay together for another year until the adoption was final.

BOOM! relief struck like lightening..I understood a little of why my heart hurt so much. I actually innately remembered John and missed him. Wow, I bet that caught them off guard in a big way. Who
would have thought I would have had such an adverse reaction to something that I was too young to know about.

We are complicated creatures and our minds/emotions can protect us from things and they can store information that, much like this experience, can bring light to parts of our story. I believe that whole heartedly and as for me, I have many times seen it proven in my life. We are innate beings that are supposed to grow constantly, when we do not there is a reason. I am not a formally educated person (surprise lol) but this I know, 

And just like that...

 I would say that we said this phrase before the phrase was actually a phrase but, either way ...

And just like that our whirlwind trip to the beach was planned atop a rooftop with champagne and OJ from the duty store in the hotel lobby downstairs. It was Sunday and we were on the beach by Wednesday! 

We are a fun loving, truth telling, beautiful group of ladies that ebb and flow together as life throws it's rapids, waterfalls and the moments of tranquil waters our way. 

As we land on Wednesday so excited to be taking one last hurrah before we settle down for the end of year chaos and reign, we cheers to us and all that we hold dear.

This trip just happen to fall in October and that's my birthday month so I was super excited to be stealing away. My husband was on a trip to Green Bay so it was an easy sell.

It was a wonderfully relaxing trip full of mimosas, belly laughs and just plain fun.

On Friday we got up and decided to head down to the beach early as to soak up every ray and every bit of the beach we possibly could. We set up our place next to the two families from Nashville that we had met. They were vacationing together and had an adorable middle school girl each that were stuck together like glue. Some intermingling chatting and some drop castles later. My good friend and I...let me pause here for just a minute.

When I say good friend, what I mean is THE friend. The friend that God actually knit me together with at a time when he knew I needed a friend. He knew and He provided the absolute most amazing sister that satisfied that need for a fellow woman to share life with.

Now, my good friend and I ventured out to cool off in the ocean. The ocean was loud and churning but, for the most part we did not notice. We were finding it hard to hear each other and I moved to where I thought she motioned would be better to stand and chat. 

At that moment we looked in each other's eyes and we knew it was possible that this was it. We had stepped into a riptide, we had what seemed like a whole conversation in the milliseconds before the waves began to overtake us. We had said good bye...just in case but, nonetheless we had said it all somehow without saying a word.

She screamed fight! We did, she began to break loose and fight her way towards the sand and I began to converse with God. I tried to swim sideways, float, swim harder but, I was being pummeled wave by wave with no sign of me finding a way out so I prayed. I am actually not sure if it qualifies as prayer but, God and I...we had a chat. As I was tossed beneath the ocean like a piece of seaweed I realized that the power in these waves was but a drop of His power. That I have an amazing life. My husband is an amazing man that is strong, a man of God and loves me unconditionally. My kids are all awe-inspiring wonderful adults and I was not worried about them...I had peace. That peace, it covered my fear, my pain, my everything to sheer nothing. In that nothing (which is a horrible way to describe it) I thought to my self, "wow, so this is how I go out...hmmmm never saw that coming" but, I was ok.

My conversation was interrupted with a quick opportunity for air. As I stood up, gasped for air and I made eye contact with him. I knew he saw me and I knew that IF I could hold on long enough...there was a chance. I was exhausted, disoriented and not ready when the waves took me again.

As all of this took place, my friend thought I was dying as she was fighting to break free for her life. She screamed with everything she had. She screamed every time she could catch a breath. As she made her way to the sand she hysterically screamed, begged for help and wept all simultaneously.

Underneath the water was oddly peaceful amid the churning, thrashing and crashing of the waves. Wait! My big toe hit sand! As I searched for footing and a hand grabbed my arm! A 17 year old man asked me if I needed help...(uhmmm. yes please) YES. he helped me make it to sand but, I was too weak to fight anymore. He drug me half way where another man (from Ohio) helped drag me out of the water onto the beach.

The 17 year old man (because boys don't save lives, only men do that) began to scold me for ignoring the double red flags. I nodded that I now understand and I would never enter the water without checking the flag status again.

As I found my way to a chair, expelling what my lungs took in...one of my tribe lovingly buried all evidence and assured me I was OK. My friend (THE friend), she was face down in the sand weeping from complete and utter physical and emotional exhaustion. She was met with another amazing friend that just wept with her...as they began to regain composure we all hear another one of us say...well, this calls for celebration! pizza for the beach! We are all just reeling from shock and we hear her ordering TWO LARGE CHEESE PIZZAS! Good golly! Everyone lifted their heads in disbelief...Wait, wait, wait we are going to need more pizzas than that! Boy oh boy, do we know how to answer the question of life and death with some humor!

There was a lot of humor because that is how I/we handle uncomfortable situations but, make no mistake; we are here by divine appointment. This experience was traumatic for those on the beach and in the water but, somehow for me, it was assuring as well. I had the opportunity of a rare glimpsofat just how blessed I am and how absolutely, without doubt my destiny lies in the hands of my creator. Do not think for a minute that HE will not take time to reminds us of JUST WHO HE is. Life is a gift so LIVE IT!

Why I share openly...

A few years back, when my children were younger, my eldest, was in middle school. He had a very good friend and that friend's and I's mother became acquaintances. We took the boys to the pool one day and I shared my testimony... wholly, brutally, honestly and fully open for probably, one of the first times ever, to somebody outside of my church. This was raw and probably too much detail but, I was excited and happy to share the transformation that God has done in my life...I AM NOT WHO I ONCE WAS.

Fast forward a few weeks and I get a call from that same family asking us to come over, they had something to discuss with us. My husband and I agreed and we went over. We sat down at the table and they began to tell us that our son had stolen money from them. Before we could speak they said, since my testimony, that I shared, spoke to that that... they knew my son had stolen the money. They judged my son by MY testimony and I began to weep. I mean, I can't say have wept a lot in my life or if ever...but, I wept. As I sat there trying to contain my sobs, my husband grew more tense. As soon as they were done speaking, There was not a rebuttal...I could not speak and to be honest, my husband was about ready to punch somebody. They wanted to end in prayer so we prayed and we left. 

I could barely breathe from trying to choke down the complete devastation I felt. As I got in the car, my first words between my sobs were, "I will never ever share my story again. If this is what it feels like to be transparent and share my testimony freely... I want no part of it". My sweet, wise, husband took my hand; looked me straight in the face and said, "no this is why you will continue to share your story. If you share your story... what people do with that is out of your control. If you are called to share what God has done in you...it is not about you, you are redeemed, it is about them".

Why did I choose to write about this today? God's reminder to me is...I got a job where I have to pass their house every single day. Driving by, it reminds me of that time although it's still painful and has brought me to tears sometimes, it's a different pain, a kind of righteously angry pain. I have compassion for that family but, I will never understand their judgement of my son based on a story I told of God's love for me.

I just thought maybe somebody needed to hear it, maybe even you. We are called to testify, not for us but, for others. I have shared my story openly many times but, the lesson that first time...gave me a strength I may not have had without that experience.

LIES

for so many years now I have known that one of my God-give purposes was to write a book. Not a book for me but, to tell anyone who needs to know that NO MATTER YOUR CIRCUMSTANCES, there is always hope.

I was born in New Orleans in 1968. My birth Mother chose to give me up for adoption to my Mother and her then husband. Ok so, two things stand out to me here. #1. She "gave me up for adoption".  Is that the best we can do, tell little humans that they were "given up"? I truly believe that was the phrase that spoke the beginning lies to my heart..."you are not worthy of love".  I am not assigning blame, it has no blame... it is a tactic to cripple God's children.

Next is the issue that my Mother's husband at the time "gave me up" to give me a chance at a whole family. Another confirmation of the lie...I am unloveable.

I came at a time that my mother had left her husband and my Father had left his family for them to be together. As you can probably guess, not an ideal time for a needy baby...everyone was fighting for their life and in a constant circle of turmoil and chaos.  Even at a young age I felt "unwanted". not because of a lack of love but, I truly believe I innately felt the pain and wanting of the situation that I was born in to over the love that was showered on me. The second lie, "I am unwanted".

As far back as I can remember, I was needy, empty, a handful. I stole things I could have if I just asked as a child. I tested every limit and I was wild. I do not understand this, I wanted for nothing, I had anything I wanted and I wanted for nothing. I had everything except for the things I thought happy kids had.so I thought if I had them...I would be happy too. I do not know why I was not happy on the inside. I played outside, had toys and was well cared for. My mental state is something I can not explain however, another lie was fostered in my heart..."I am not normal".

I had\have a severe fear of being left. I believe that I, as a baby, felt the tear of the bonds each time I was given up. I was clingy, needy because I was feeling "left". My mother always gets angry when I mention Conception. She was a governess that we had when we lived in Garland. I remember her because she used to bathe me, do my hair and she played with me. I remember her ver fondly but, she was just gone one day and I never got to say goodbye. Once again, I am left with a lie..."I am unloveable", "something is wrong with me", I am not enough".

Next was school. I was severely dyslexic before dyslexia was even a thing. I remember that I went to St. Johns, I am guessing maybe 2nd and third grade. I would go to class in the morning then spend the whole day with Mrs. Wascomb. She taught me to read, write and to do basic math. I remember that I reached a big goal and she took me to get my ears pierced as a prize. I internalized my deficit and it became another lie, "I am stupid", "I am different".

The thing with lies of the heart...they become what you believe, they become your truth. You become crippled and never even know that mentally and emotionally, you are broken. Age is not a factor these lies, they can begin early and no one even knows they are there. These lies, they eat at you and destroy your ability to give and accept love. It robs you of coping mechanisms, you are so focused on trying to be loved that you can not cope with anything else.

My youth was not horrible and all bad...I was loved (even if I didn’t t feel it). I was well cared for and I really had a charmed life, if you just took a glance. I loved sports...the one place I could own was on any  field, court or track in sports. This is where I was confident, I fit in and I excelled. This is where I got my approval.

The lies that were tattooed on my heart left me crippled, unable to love or accept love freely. These lies bound my heart ad set my course for self-destruction.

I could write stories of why i know this is truth, experiences that speak for themselves to my self-destructive behavior but, I will spare you and condense it all. Lets just say, drugs mixed with self destructive behavior and a teen angst that would make Avril Lavigne shutter, was my adolescence. I was bound up, broken and just looking for some kind of relief from anywhere.

It took many years  for me to see, learn and grow through these lies, that is why I write. I hope that maybe something in my story will resonate with you and you too will be freed. That you too will learn how to differentiate between the lies and truth and find the freedom to be you. That you find that there is no normal and that life is not fair but, that is not a reflection of you. I pray you know that you are loved, you are important and you are enough.

 

WISHES LOST

I wish I had just come to say goodbye and told you all of what you did for me.

I wish I had told you how much you changed my heart just by your example.

I wish I had kept in better touch and told you often just how much I love you.

I wish I had made more time to come and just hang out, sit on your bed and chat about all the old and new happenings.

I wish you knew that when you felt your most unstable, you gave me stability.

I wish we could tell stories and belly laugh until the tears run down our cheeks and our stomachs hurt from laughter.

I wish someone was left that knew...all the things and understood me anyway. You were ALWAYS a safe place for me, thank you for loving me unconditionally.

I am resolved that you are gone and happy that you have found peace. 

I will miss you dearly...I know I will see you again someday but my world is forever changed without you here.

 2/11/2021

SHOUTING FROM THE ROOFTOP

Unaltered Grace

Looking back I can see God’s hand in every step of my life. However, not feeling Him at all until I was 26 years old, was going to be my down fall…

Adopted at birth, many rumors circled around how my name, Cynthia, was chosen by both my birth mother, as well as, my mother that raised me. Mom (the one who raised me) always said ever since she was a little girl she wanted a baby girl to call Cynthia. I innately had so many questions: Who was she? Where did she go and why did she choose to leave me? I cannot explain it but I had thought of these before I knew I was adopted. These questions haunted my mind from the very beginning, and they were a catalyst for so much of my confusion, pain and rebellion…strike one and two. The lies set into stone in my heart were: “I am not wanted”, “I am unlovable”.

I had an awesome childhood. We lived in a big house, I had brothers and a sister, and we had maids. I had a governess to help me, play with me and to fix my unruly curly hair to a presentable state. Yet, I remember, my attention seeking behaviors began showing through my actions already. I had anything I wanted but I remember stealing from a little girl that I had spent the night with, a sweater of all things. There are a variety of stories I could share to confirm that I was a pretty messed up little girl, headed for trouble, but I will spare the not-so boring details.

When I was about ten, we moved to a new house, new neighborhood and new school. I now had a next-door neighbor my age and I had a bit more freedom to roam the neighborhood. This is also when I realized that in school I was different. I could not read well and I was behind the majority of the other kids. However, I also found out that I was an athlete. Dodge ball, kick ball, basketball, track, soccer, whatever…that is where I excelled and I loved it! School continued to prove challenging but, it was the 80s and everyone knew I was “slow” so, I just progressed grade to grade on my failures no successes…strike three.  The lie was: “I am stupid”.

By the time I reached middle school, I was doing pretty well, as long as you stayed surface level, but I was profoundly empty and lonely and dying on the inside. You know, that kind of lonely where you can be laughing and involved in a group but consumed on the inside of complete emptiness and desperation. My only relief from my deep loathing of myself was participating in sports. When I was on the field, court, track, wherever…I was free and the lies were hidden. I most always got picked first for teams and I played to win no matter what, everyone knew that was my thing.

Middle school started out like a holding pattern but soon, I would lose control and enter the abyss of my life. I was so sad, I thought that if I actually let out what was in my heart that I would never be okay and… I met a boy, he introduced me to drugs and that was it…I entered the life of numbness, self hate and a vicious circle that would lead me to just giving up on life. This time of my life was so painful and hurtful. I was just dying for someone to help me but I had a smile that covered it all, so no one knew I was drowning in lies.

By the time I got to High School I was no longer the athlete. My Olympic dreams of high jumping gold, whether or not they were realistic, were traded for darkness, numbness, anger, and rebellion. Rebellions, like most people only know about from movies. I was a privileged girl, from an elite suburb of Dallas, on a rampage to destroy my life and probably take you down with me. I have stories, oh geez, some I like to tell because they are just unbelievable, and some still hurt but all of this is a part of my history. By the ripe old age of 17, I was so out of control that something had to be done and I remember it as if it had happened yesterday. I was coming out of my room heading down the stairs for the door and my Dad walked in the foyer and said, “I don’t know where you are going but, be home by nine o’clock in the morning, we are going to check you in the hospital.” I do not know if I can convey to you the little bit of shining light that brought me. At that moment, my heart broke behind the smile and all I could think was, “finally, finally I can stop, finally someone sees that I am going down.” At that point in my life, it was just a matter of time before I was going to die, not a spiritual death, a real life, tragic, teen angst death. I cannot tell you what else happened that night, I did go out and party, however, I was home at nine to go to the hospital. That day the lies stopped, and my Dad broke.

As we sat in the intake room, where they interview you and decide whether: you are short term crazy or long term crazy, they bombarded me with questions. Have you had sex? Yes. Have you smoked pot? Yes. Have you snorted or shot up cocaine? Yes. As they went on and on, my Dad sat there, broken, in disbelief, sobbing, having to hear all of this about his baby girl. Me? I smiled, the whole time. Even though on the inside, I needed to cry, I was screaming, “I am so sorry Daddy,” I was completely broken yet I was unable to communicate anything but a smile.

I was in that locked unit for fourteen months, which is two months over the limit, by the way. See, I am an overachiever…and shocker, they thought long term would be the best fit for me. I have to chuckle about that now, but my time there was no laughing matter. It took the whole fourteen months to wipe that smile off my face and make me realize that my life was my life, no one owed me anything and if I wanted anything different, I was the only one in control of that. I was taught how to be a participating member of a family, I was taught accountability, discipline, responsibility, I was taught unconditional love from people that did not have to show it to me. They loved me in spite of me. They developed a care and love in me that I did not have before. I learned compassion and communication; I learned how to look in a mirror. Seriously, I had that smile and it took the better part of a year before I could look in the mirror at me, without that smile. I learned to cry, I never cried. I had no tears, I was so locked up and shut down I could not cry. I learned to love my family.

When I was released, I went directly to boarding school and fell back into partying. However, this time I was different. I had knowledge and although I reverted back to some old behaviors, this time I knew it and I knew why. It was not until I was twenty-six years old, married to a man God specifically hand knit for me, and we had two amazing children, that my rehabilitation had come full circle.

I spent the first five years of my marriage broken, living, but broken. I was walking the walk but I was in pieces. See, in rehab I gained knowledge, systems and how-tos. In my twenty-sixth year, I was going to be shown life, full circle lived with a bounded up heart.

I was waiting tables and bartending about twenty minutes away from our house in Marietta, Georgia. I was living true to the server lifestyle, working all night, closing at two and then sitting at the bar until three in the morning drinking. One particular night, I was drunk, driving home on a pretty busy four-lane road and BOOM! I hit a curb and managed to pop two of my tires. I stopped, stumbled out of my car to the trunk, cussing and yelling, like it was not all completely my fault. In my rage and drunken stupor, I was completely unaware that I had stopped on an unlit curve in the road. All logic had escaped me at this point. I made my way to the trunk to attempt to change my tire (like that was going to help because I did not have two spare tires…). I proceeded to get my jack, the tire and the pad out of my car. As I lay the tire on the ground… Let me press pause here for a moment, do you recall earlier, when I said I could remember the night my Dad told me I was going to the hospital like it was yesterday? Well, much like that one, this moment is very clear too.

I noticed an old beat up pickup truck going slowly beside me, and pull over in front of my car. Now, I am in Atlanta, however, I am no stranger to the games of the street so I should be afraid, but instead, I am overcome with a peace that I never knew and can not explain. You know that, “peace that surpasses all understanding” that is spoken of in the bible... that is what took over. It was like slow motion, or time stopped. In my head and in my heart I heard a voice, this voice was sad, it was as sad as I felt. This voice, it knew me, it knew my brokenness, and I understood this without words being spoken. But, then he spoke these words to me. He said, “How long, how long do I have to watch you suffer?” “Choose now, life or death?” I knew immediately, I knew I wanted life, for the first time in my life I cared! I wanted to live. I said, “Life!” And that was it, the moment was gone and life continued on. The truck that drove up was driven by an older man, named Clovis; Clovis and I had to have spent time together because it was a twenty minute ride to my house and I would have to had to have given him directions and the next day when we went to get my car, there were no flats and it was in a parking lot at least two miles from that beautiful curve on Austell Road, with no bent rims. However, my time with Clovis was not as clear as my time with Jesus. I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt, that night, my life hung in the balance and Grace said, “no.” He would not leave me nor forsake me, as proven that night.

Now, I was full circle, I had the head knowledge from rehab and now I had heart knowledge from Jesus. I had hope for the very first time in my existence and I was changed. Every part of my story is for my good, and I am willed to share it because I am not alone. There are millions out there that suffer like I did and they need to know that He is alive, He is there and He sees you.

”What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs.” – Matthew 10:27

A MARK FOR TODAY

Today is a mark, it's a time stamp, or a life stop, if you will....today is your last collegiate competitive track meet.
Wow let that resonate a minute...
You have been competing since you could walk.
As you grew, so did your need for sport...a kind of modern day gladiator.
You fight. you fight your body for air, you fight for health and you fight for strength to surpass what your body says it can do.
You are disciplined. when others don't, you do. Your body calls to you for work, it is ingrained in your DNA. You may be tired but you go run, lift and stretch your physical being to achieve more, be more, surpass your goals.
You are strong. Being a competitive athlete is not easy, it's no free ride and it is not to be taken lightly. Strength is going and doing beyond what your mind and body say you can. Strength requires sacrifice. Strength requires focus. You are strong.

watching you run all these years brings these thing to mind.

a line, a voice, a gun...the start 

The Banshee Tale

Growing up I did everything the hard way. You could not tell me or warn me, I had to do it myself. I am still a little like that now but for different reasons.

I remember how my parents constantly told me to wear shoes as a child. I hated any form of restraint, let's just say I was a "spirited" child and leave it at that. Anyway, most times I went out barefoot, nothing happened and I returned home knowing that I obviously knew best because I was fine, my feet were fine and I was happy. However, there was that one time that I went out and all was not fine and for all the times that I fought and snickered at the pleas to put on shoes...I wished I had just put on my stinking shoes.

I was a banshee child of 4 years old I think:  mangled curly brown hair, chubby cheeks, dirty nails from playing in the dirt, wildly curious dark brown eyes, a love for creepy crawlies and yes, bare feet That was a very realistic mental picture of me everyday. I loved to be outside: in the top of a tree, digging in the dirt, playing in the "forbidden" creek or whatever I wasn't supposed to be doing as the prim and proper only baby girl in the house. I knew of no Texas heat too hot for outside play and I did not know time, out at sunrise and in at sunset that was all I needed to know.

This day was a little different from the usual, we had visitors. We lived in a Spanish style home with  red clay tiles on the roof which were notorious for leaks. So once again, we had the roofers out to find and repair the roof leak for what seemed as the billionth time. I was getting very familiar with them as I was very curious child, constantly underfoot, not malicious but, always wanting to "help". On this day, one of the men, Javier was particularly patient and kind. I think he actually was voted to "take one for the team" and occupy me for a bit. He sat on the edge of the roof and talked with me in our broken languages. I am sure I asked him every question there was to ask and he politely answered what he could and a little while later, he was summoned away back to work.

As I continued to play in the area I was jumping from the grass to the driveway, grass to drive back and forth probably humming some tune and deep away in the thoughts in my head when I realized that every time I jumped on the driveway I was now making a "clink" sound...grass, clink, grass, clink...I thought it was kind of neat until I looked down to see what the clink was....I can remember, I didn't feel a thing until... I saw that with the last clink a nail popped through the top of my foot!
Okay, so I see the nail, I am only 4 and I know it's bad but...I am SUPPOSED TO HAVE SHOES ON! That was the last thing I was told before I left the house... what am I going to do?
Excuse me, Uhm, Javier? Javier, are you still up there? I said a bit louder with only a tinge of tremble in my voice I called calmly, never shedding a tear. Yes, miss what do you need? Could you come here please? He replied that he would find me later, right now they were very busy. Well, I need help. He replied, I can help you later. But, I need help now...I am supposed to have shoes on and I am going to be in big trouble, I stepped on a nail. He laughed a little, mainly because I think he was only half listening and half because he was thinking I was trying to trick him down to play with me. That was until I lifted my foot so he could see that I had a nail clear through the middle of it, I think he flew down the ladder to help me.

Everything turned out okay, I am not lame and I did learn a lesson but... not really until years later. When people advise, warn or share with us opinions about things that are good or bad for us it's not necessarily that they think we will surely fail or "step on a nail"....its the possibility of pain or danger.

My parents wanted me to wear shoes not because they didn't like that I loved to be bare foot and free, it was to protect my feet. Kind of like God asking us to do things, it is not because He is fearful that we will fail, he knows we need to have failure to know success. It is to protect his children from the things we can not know are there.

You know what my Dad said first when he came home to take care of me? Cyndi, I knew it, I knew you were going to step on one of those roofing nails that is why you were supposed to be wearing shoes! He was my own personal Daddy Doctor fixing all my physical mistakes and as a "rough banshee child" there were a lot of them. Second...He bought me sandals so I could almost be barefoot but, still have protection.

God wants to do that for us on the inside. Bind up our broken heart, stitch up our mistakes and heal us so we can do more than we ever knew we could.

See, just like the bad stuff out there, like the nail...there are great and wonderful things for us that aren't even in our wildest imagination. So be sure to wear your sandals, forge out where you have to and let God open up a whole new perspective for you one nail at a time.

urgency

Ha, I have to laugh...in becoming re-acquainted with my blog I see three posts listed as drafts. This one was blank, only a name...urgency.

What was so urgent but, not documented? I think it was a precursor for today. Urgency, I feel an urgency to tell myself, my family my children and my friends...do not wait. Why wait?

I feel an almost desperate pang in my heart to say this: that thing you do that you love, That thing you want to do but, scares you to death, that person you think about calling but don't, those relationships that need healing and are always eating at you, that pain that you can barely swallow when it arises...why wait to do something about it?

Answer this, what are you waiting on? Do you have a logical answer? My guess is a resounding no.
Freedom is yours and it is free my friends. It is not necessarily the"Star Spangled Banner" freedom, (however, that is right there too) that I am speaking of although, we have to fight just as hard in battle for spiritual freedom. The freedom to raise your hands in praise, sing, cry, pray, cry out in honesty to your God. A freedom that allows you to live in the moment, no fear and a trust that surpasses all circumstance. Freedom of your heart.

What can prohibit your free heart? Pain, unforgiveness, pride, past experiences..we can use just about anything to be bound to. It is not that we logically choose to be in bondage and sometimes we do not even know we are bound up. The problem becomes how we work through experiences, do we deal with them head on, do we file them for later or do we ignore that they ever happened? No matter how we deal with experiences, whether they are done to us, through us or by us...they leave behind baggage or issues. It shapes how we respond to life, we allow these experiences to mold us, inhibit us and limit us.

 That is not God's plan. God's plan is for us to live, hurt and experience life. God uses those experiences to refine or mold us. Do you see the difference? Life does not dictate our limits...God does.

 Just think, what if your life was lived without fear...imagine, what would that look like? What would you be doing? What would you be capable of accomplishing? The outcome is unfathomable. What would our country look like, our world?

Bondage is evils best weapon. If you stay bound and fearful then you are not a threat. It is those who live out of God's promises that become the triple threat. When we open the door of our heart to break free of those things that bind us and begin to live in the power that is ours that we realize that no power, failure, pain or destruction can take away our freedom and power we have in Christ. I urge you to explore your heart. Do it for yourself. Nothing is more beautiful that seeing a man, woman or child doing, loving, living from the heart and doing what they were created to do.

What if you lived life for you not worrying about what others think of you? What if you were true to yourself and lived from your heart...what does that look like for you? What were you created by God to do?

Can you imagine what our world would look like if God's people recognized their God given power and meaning and lived out of that knowledge? LIMITLESS

Father's Day 2013

I am thinking forward to Sunday and I was not so subtley reminded of how dense i can be and how Father's Day has changed for many that are close by and many more that are far away. This Father's Day could represent loss, with no one physically here to bestow a gift, a card, a kind word , or a hug to, it could be a day of sorrow or a day of regret.
Being as I have my Daddy still on this earth but, have gotten a glimpse of the painful loss...and I do not wish to be in that place that one day we all will endure. This thought came to me as a Father's Day wish for you. What if you look at yourself, at your life and see...see him there. Is he in your eyes, your smile, you laugh? Did he plant the seed for your love for the game? Is he the catalyst for your motivation, is he your hero? Is he the one you get your steadiness, your protective nature, your selfless sacrificing, your endless provision and your ability to unconditionally love those around you from?
So I ask you, would he rather you be sad in his passing or on Father's Day rejoice in the gifts he has given you. He knew he was loved, he knew what he was to you...now be that for those who love you. This Father's Day celebrate the life lived...it was extraordinary!

Why Moments of Impact?

I have come to the conclusion while my sporadic writing contributes, my blog is badly organized...So I thought a condensed version of why I even broached the subject of: Moments of Impact was necessary. Those of you that know me, know that I can be a bit "wordy".

When I wrote my first moment of impact story, it was for a two-fold reason. 1. I wanted to keep the stories in tact for my kids and 2. I realized that moments of impact; big or small draw a line in our faith.
We face a choice...all moments of impact do not end well and although the ones I chose to write about did...I still came to a line. I had to choose to cross over that line on faith that no matter what, even if the horrific happened, God was still good. OR cross over into complete hopelessness choosing to venture forth alone with no control.

Moments of impact can happen minute by minute, hourly, daily, weekly, monthly, and so on. Really, the truth is "moments" are happening constantly. It's those experiences that change the way we see, the way we think, the way we go on. God is in every minute, working for the good and He created us to be moments of impact on others as well as uses them to shape us for the greater good.

I struggle with horrific meaningless moments of impact but, the one thing I know...God can use anything for good. The trick, if we choose to see it, believe it and act upon that knowledge.
Am I saying we don't mourn, gnash our teeth or symbolically tear our robes in agony? No, but never, NEVER, forget that there is hope, even in the despair of tragedy-there is hope.

Moments of impact are priceless, do not overlook them, and do not pass up the blessing of creating one.

I hope all who read what I have to say understand that I am not telling you in my writing, I am reminding and encouraging me.

Now go out and do some impacting!

Moment of Impact TWO

Second Moment of impact... it begins with a lot of humor. I had just stepped out and started a new bible study with some neighborhood friends and some new ladies that I did not know. I am going to fill you in on a secret...I dislike cleaning. There it is I just don't like it. So, in preperation for the newcomers I had cleaned the downstairs and basically whatever was downstairs was now, upstairs, out of sight...so I had planned.
My husband had taken the kids to our neighbors house to hang out while we were doing our study. I noticed and was more than just a little annoyed that Jason kept coming in the door and going upstairs and then out again. After the fifth or so time he stopped and started at me....so, I stopped and said, what? He said sorry to bother you but, have you seen Eli? I snapped back no that is your job tonight...did you loose him hahahah...he answered, we can't find him.
BOOM, moment of impact.
Ok , he is 3 years old, it is dark outside and he has wandered away before. He had spent the night next door and left at 4 am to come home and did not tell anybody, I am so happy I am a light sleeper or I would have never heard his soft footsteps on the porch and the light knock on our locked front door...O, the horrors that could have happened...now it was.
I calmly got up and asked the ladies to continue without me assuring them that we would laugh about this in a few minutes but, inside I was reeling. Jason, Cassie and our neighbors all continued to search with no relief. Finally panic struck and I ran inside and asked the group to help us, that we still couldn't find Eli.
Those precious ladies have seen parts of my house that I don't even know about, we tore the house apart and now...it was time to call 911. That call was so hard to make I was trying to speak clearly but, how do you say, my three year old baby is gone calmly? What kind of mother was I that wouldn't notice her child coming or going? All that self talk hushed and desperation set in.
The police came, they interviewed us and then they called in the dogs. I hope you never have to answer the question, "Do you have any of your missing child's dirty clothes".  I did and handing them over was the absolute worst feeling, It was like, giving something private and precious away.
The officer came up to Jason and I and said, "before we let the dogs out we are going to search your house one last time" and that was ok with me but, I knew if Eli had been anywhere close, he would have answered our screams and desperate calls.
As the team of officers entered the house, I went up to my room and fell on my face before God and just begged Him please don't let this happen...This can't be happening...Crying, sobbing weeping....God Please! Full blown desperation had set in and now I was teatering on hoplessness.
 Then I heard it, "hey buddy, can you get up for me?"...I jumped up and ran into Zach's room...and grabbed Eli, he was hot, covered in sweat and stiill very sleepy. However, he was unharmed, and completely clueless as to the complete mayhem that has just taken place on his behalf.
He had crawled up under Zach's down comforter at the foot of the bed (probably playing hide and seek with Dad) so, when we lifted the covers in our multiple searches, He was still hidden.
I believe that again, God heard our cries, and He had compassion.

A Reminder

From my very first days I can see and be thankful for God’s hand (Zeph. 3:17) on my life. He gave me a family that loved me and asked for me through the process of adoption.

When I was alone, hurt, confused and a suffering child…he was with me.

When I chose sin over God He waited and constantly called me to come home, He sent angels to protect me. When I gave up and gave in to my pain, He said NO. (PS.66.16) he gave me hope. 

He came to me and spoke His love into my heart and gave me a choice…Life or death. He allowed me to see glimpses of what life could be and I chose LIFE!

God amazes me everyday with all that He knits into my life. From using my most painful memories for His glory and my healing. He has knit into me a burden to share my life so others can see that they are not alone and can see, yes, there is more to life than the obvious pain, bitterness, abuse and anger…. there is LOVE! His love really does cover it all!

 God has blessed me with the ability to love and to be loved. I wasn't always able to love others or myself, just ask my brother, Mark and my Parents.  I now have a husband I could never have dreamed up on my own and children that completely overflow my heart with their ability to see with spiritual eyes, grow in knowing who they are and love abundantly.

He has knit in me a need, a burden, a passion to share who we are in Christ with others; I don’t want anyone to grow up in darkness…

Everything in my life past, present and my future testifies to me that I was created for His purpose, He has a plan for me and my life was not a mistake. (Rom. 8:35-)

My life is the story of God’s audacious love for me. No rhyme, no reason just the audacious gift of unconditional, unchallenged and unparalled love.

This love is overflowing in us all it’s a choice whether we overflow into others or just wastefully overflow.

Moment of impact

Life is ear marked with moments of impact. Moments that for good or for bad change and imprint on our DNA, sewn into the very fibers that knit us together. Being a mother there are now three moments of impact that I know....I boldly called out to God and He answered me with a compassion that I know only He could have.

The first Moment of impact, A normal day with an 11 year old, a seven year old and a 3 month old. It was summer and although I could not play outside my two oldest had ventured out with a bike our Golden Max and wild laughter. Honestly, I was grateful for the few minutes of peace that would soon be upon me. Eli was asleep in his chair and I was talking to my husband on the phone at work because frankly, I needed some adult conversation. In mid conversation, the door swung open and my 7 year old daughter ran in and screamed, He's dead! Mom, I think Zachary is dead! She was close to hysterics and me feeling the full moment of impact, I took a breath, dropped the phone and said, Cassie, you watch Eli and STAY HERE!
I ran outside to the highest point overlooking the neighborhood and yelled, Zachary!...there was no answer just a deafening silence and in what seemed like minutes, God and I had a conversation where He listened and I poured out...I went to His feet and sobbed..."God, I can't go on from here if you allow this, I know you don't give us more than we can handle but, I won't"....in that moment I was a little more horrified at my words...my faith had a limit. I was desperate. I yelled again...Zachary! ... this time with desperation and trying to be audible between weeps...Then after a long pause, I heard him! It was a faint, "I'm here" and in that moment, I knew that I had called and God heard me.  Although, I am ashamed of my weakness, He heard the cries of my breaking heart and had compassion on me.

Zach had been riding the bike and had the leash wrapped around the handlebars walking Max and was paying more attention to Max than where he was going. He didn't see the gardening trailer in his path and collided with it. He had hit it full force and was knocked out cold unconscious. By all means that impact could have been a fatal blow but, only by God's ever-loving grace was he basically unscathed. He even played in a football game just days later.

The next two are yet to come....

You need to hear this

What if we never got to witness the awe-inspiring feats of he human spirit. What if no one ever listened to that small voice inside that says, "yes, you were created for this".  What if we all lived out of our fear? Can you imagine what the world would be like? We would never be in awe, amazed nor inspired by what wonderful gifts and talents people have because no one would be using them to futher the kingdom of God.

There is a song and a few of the words say, "...all I know is I'm not home yet, this is not where I belong. Take this world and give me Jesus, this is not where I belong..." (btw: building429's song)

I love this song because I know there is a place where I am meant to be that is much bigger than this small broken world. At times, I can't wait to see what is on the other side and then at other times I kinda wanna stick around and see what happens in the lives of my loved ones here...Do not misunderstand me, I am not going anywhere on my own. God is going to call me home in His time and that is just fine with me.

What I am talking about is that deep down giddy, excitement...uhm, a joyfiul knowledge (trying to find words to describe it) that there is more to life than what I am living now. I know that I have a God-breathed purpose and I am here to be used by God to help make heaven a very crowded place....However, I can also look ahead and be excited for the "more" in the hereafter.

We have the opportunity to witness glimpses of what (I think) is going to be everyday in heaven, in the awe inspiring, bold, steadfastness of God's people living out God's design in their life right here on this earth. I want to walk in that in my life. I need to do what I was created to do otherwise I am unfullfilled and searching. My gift? I think that it is communication. I love to share, listen and walk together with people. Am I perfect? will I fail and dissappoint? Yes, however I am not supposed to be perfect, I am supposed to stretch and grow up with all those I encounter (not age wise God wise), that is my job as I know it.

So when I get sad, or beaten down I remember that I am not just here waiting, a mistake or a product of my environment. I am a chosen child of God that was individually knit together for a purpose bigger than just me. I remember the words to that song and I smile. I don't know more than anybody else, I have a job here and I am happy with the wonderful life God has led me to, I am beyond blessed. However, I know that there is even more that awaits me!

"If we did the things we are capable of, we would astound ourselves." Thomas A. Edison Thomas A. Edison

"If we did the things we are capable of, we would astound ourselves."

Thomas A. Edison

This quote reminds me of the fact that we all have a common thread. We all at one time or another are stunted in our growth. We are either too scared to move forward, fear the unknown, fear failure or just don't take the next step to grow.  We are told over and over that in Christ we have all the power and abilities of Christ within us. Why do we live as though "one person can not change the world"? Jesus was one person and he changed everything in this world and the next. 

When Jesus calls, do you listen every time? I am ashamed to say that many times I have hushed that small but, unmistakable voice inside because of fear or inconvenience. I hate to think of the opportunities that I have missed because of my fear and stubbornness. 
The God that created the earth and all of its beauty and wonder created you and I. He personally knit us in our Mothers womb! Would He do all that for a mediocre life? No, I do not believe so. I believe that God created each one of us for God-breathed purpose and that purpose is inside us waiting to come out. That is why we search, we search to find it. Some search outside in a bottle, some search in people some search for it in acquiring stuff. Some people will settle for that little ache that pangs when you get close but, will never step out to achieve it.
Have you ever been drawn to someone that you see and, just know that, beyond a shadow of a doubt that that is what they are supposed to be doing in life...they kind of shine. It doesn't have to be on TV, in a magazine on the radio or on the big screen. Just that daily inspiration, doing what isn't work because they were called to it. I don't know about you but, I want that! 
If we did listen and follow whatever it is that is knit in our very fiber what would that look like?


Are you stunted? are you stuck and you actively ignoring that pull out of fear? Edison was absolutely correct, "if we did the things we are capable of, we would astound ourselves". I believe that all it takes it a step out of the box and into your purpose. I think I am taking mine...what about you?

I am not who I once was

You know there is a song that states "I wish that you could see me now cause I'm not who I was", and I just love to sing along with it because I am so thankful that I am not who I once was. I am changed.

Was I a horrible person, nope. I was a broken and sad person looking to fill an abyss of lonliness and self-pity . I had no hope and no way to process life, no ability to make good decisions and I lived by what I felt.

Today I can say that ,while I want to keep that season of my life close by, I can always be reminded of where I once was. I am so thankful that I have a God that wept with me when I was lost and pursued me intensely until I could hear His voice. A God that loves me enough to let me choose and also to let me suffer my own consequences. A God that does not promise a life without brokenness or pain but, a promise that whatever may come, He will not leave. In fact He will use it for our good IF we allow it.

Yes, I am so full of joy with every breath I take that I am not who I once was cause I like me now. I am not perfect, I sin, I disappoint and I fail but, now I know that there is more to my story than that.

Has it really been THAT long?

It all started over a fooseball table.....

I'm in college just looking for the next party, barely making the grade (if at all). I was just waiting, waiting for something and then...
Some of my friends say, "let's go to the beach over Easter break". That is totally cool with me cause I'm game for whatever whenever and most definately anything at the beach. It turns out thata large group of others are going too and we headed over to the student center to meet up with them. I don't remember who was doing the introducing but, I do remember "THE GUY". I didn't predict he was my going to be my soulmate or get a bolt of lighting but, something subtle and different came through me as I looked up over the foseball table at his big blue eyes. It was almost like, just for that mili-second, everything slowed down, anyway, the meeting left a mark on me. How was I to know that at that moment I had met the one God was going to use to teach me who He was.
The boy I met, he was not so innocent, not preachy, really smart and not offensive. However, he was subtle, disciplined, strong, faithful and trustworthy. Hmmm, trustworthy....wow, that word is something I just didn't do and certainly wasn't worthy of. It would take me many years to truly know and live the meaning of that word. However, that boy I met over the Fooseball table....God would use him to unravel the meaning so that I could learn to trust and be trusted.

The next day was departure day and I was riding with a different boy, someone who was fake and being quite a jerk so about halfway to the beach we stopped for gas and I jumped into a little red Nissan pick up truck. I smiled and said , "can I ride with you"? There was not much of a choice since I was already making myself comfortable squishing in with the two that were already in the seat. We didn't know it but, this would be the beginning of eternity for us.
Once at the beach and seeing the "BEACH HOUSE" we were going to be staying in was actually a trailer with no water and no where near the beach, we were almost out of luck but, thank goodness for my trusty American Express card! We did get a room right on the beach and I think we had 7 people crammed in one room. That boy and I, we stayed  close for the majority of the trip, just hanging out and talking. We talked about music, sports, family and life. By the time the trip was ending I think we were both invested in hoping there would be something more between us.
More there was, over the next few years we would be dating, married, have our first child and starting out on our journey together as a family. All this time, God was using my husband in a might way. He taught me that there was more for me and I was not OK however, I would be, I could be...IF I chose to be.
There is way too much in the many lessons that I learned through my husbands charcter, unconditional love and faith to say in this small glimpse. My point is, you never know who you are influencing by the way you choose to live, what you choose to share or living a life of encouragement.
Encouragement is what finally spoke to my heart and began my search for more. He didn't know what God was doing through him and he didn't do it on purpose. It was just him allowing me to see glimpses of God in him. I want to be that for my kids, my mom, all those who don't know that there is more.
My prayer is that through those God given glimpses and on to many, many more glimpses will be seen for others to know and live on through the generations to come.

Setting Fires

It has been a reoccurring theme to me for the past few weeks that God has such a perfect plan for us and we, more often than not, miss it all together.

Why do we wait, talk our selves out of, or sit when our heart is screaming for us to stand? Have you ever heard the phrase that, "You were created for such a time as this"? This comes from scripture, it's about a girl that is thrust into a situation she was not prepared for but she chose to stand up and lay it all on the line, she was "all in" as they say these days. She was all in and she was resolved to (good, bad, or indifferent) see it through. Little did she know that her choice to stand up when she had every reason in the world to sit, would save a nation. She was a fire setter, no she did not set out to inspire or capture fame. She made her choice on what she knew was right in her heart and that began a journey that would inspire generations to stand up in the face of any adversary, her name was Esther.

I believe that God calls us to the extraordinary everyday and it is our choice to hear it and either obey or pass up the opportunity of a lifetime. God has such a perfect plan here, He calls one to stand up in faith and others are inspired (sparked) by that and hopefully will set in place a domino effect. Passion, inspiration, strength, courage, joy are all things we want and when you see it in others in any circumstance it says, "there is more than this...you were created for more. You and I were created for a purpose, it might be huge like Esther or it might be something you think only you see...whatever it is, you always have a choice to stand or sit.

A girl who should be care free and healthy. She is an athlete but, is riddled everyday with pain and discomfort that no one sees but, she chooses to live life out loud in spite of her struggle. She has determination and drive that supersedes all that ales her. It's a beautiful thing.

A wife who is standing up and encouraging all who will hear in the face of the chronic and painful illness of her husband. Instead of why, I see thanks, faith, love, courage and strength. In a situation that it would be easy to give in and give up, lay down and focus on the whys, she stands in adoration and joy- the kind of Joy you can have amidst the pain.

These are fire setters.... so, back to my initial question. How many times have you hushed that voice that calls for you to stand up? How many times have you talked yourself out of something because of fear? How many times have you missed the blessing of being a fire setter?

I have too many to count and I am more ashamed now that I am actually thinking about it. I am tired of it,  I see my kids starting to sit when I know they are called to stand! I see my influence on others, how can I expect any more of you than what I am willing to do, risk and rely on my faith to accomplish?

What if we set those fires? What if we never hushed that voice that calls us to do more, step out and to stand alone? What would our world look like? What would your life look like?