the struggle for survival.

When I decided to start this blog, I did it because I've been called to write. The Holy Spirit has literally been calling me to share my story and I've been putting it off because I've been struggling to find a way to do so. Today's post isn't for the gritty details of my nightmarish experience; today's post is dedicated to my story of survival.

Leaving my abuser was the most terrifying and hellacious thing I've ever done, and it is also the most dangerous thing a victim can do. It shows power and strength and nothing pisses an abuser off more than their victim gaining the strength to leave them. It makes them vulnerable and vulnerability makes them very angry and in turn makes them even more dangerous and unpredictable.

But I left. I don't know how the hell I did it, but I did.

Then the spiral began. If it wasn't the abuse that had been breaking me down to practically nothing, it was the aftermath of my decision to survive. I spent nights in a home that I shared with my abuser, hating my life a thousand times more than I did when I was sleeping next to him. If walls could talk, mine were SCREAMING at me. Taunting me, laughing at me, making my life more of a hell than he did. I was alone; nobody knew what I was going through. My family had no idea of what I had been enduring, my co-workers and supervisors had no idea- it was just me and the man who broke my spirit more than he broke my body.

Going through all of that alone and not having any sort of landing pad to fall back on led to the darkest pit of depression I have ever experienced (or will ever experience) in my 28 years on this earth. There were times when I considered going back to him just so I wouldn't have to be alone. That's the most sickening thought: that I would endure the abuse if I had to just so I wouldn't be alone.

Then one day, I decided I was done. That is the day that I decided I wanted to die. It was just another horrible day in my life and I was over it. So, on my lunch break I went home with a friend in my unit, and I went upstairs and locked myself in my bathroom and crawled into my bathtub with a straight edge razor and tried to slit my wrists. When I say "tried to," I literally mean that I tried, over and over again, to slit my wrists open but nothing was happening. A straight edge razor was no match for God's plan for my life apparently, because here I am laying in my bathtub in my cammies and boots, slashing at my wrists and my arms for ANY sort of release of the pain and NOTHING IS HAPPENING. I'm screaming and I'm crying and then my door gets kicked in by my Gunny and I see my friend and my lieutenant standing in the hallway, completely terrified at what they are witnessing. I looked up at them and in my descent to rock bottom, I start laughing. Hysterically laughing/crying because I'm the idiot who failed at killing herself.

I didn't fail though. I'm living, breathing proof that Jesus Christ is more powerful than any demon that had been taunting me. That day in my bathtub, Christ proved that He had SO MUCH MORE in store for me. That was the day I decided I really wanted to survive. Probably because in the aftermath of all that, my Gunny called my sister as we were on our way to the hospital and oh Lord did she have words for me. I will NEVER in my entire life forget what she said to me. I'm sitting here writing this post and crying because her words have been seared into my memory. You guys- I tried to remove myself from the lives of my niece and my nephews; from the lives of my mother and my father and my stepfather and my amazing sister and brothers and all of the people who loved me. That is a thought that remains with me to this very day. Have I forgiven myself for my selfishness? I have. It's still kind of hard to not look back and absolutely hate myself for that.

Here I am, five and a half years later, and the road that I have traveled since that day has not been easy. I went through extensive therapy with an amazing therapist whom I credit for helping me maintain my sanity through my survival process. When I got out of the Marine Corps seven months after that day, I moved to Oceanside and got involved with an amazing church where my love for the Holy Spirit grew to a sacred obsession (shameless Jake Hamilton plug). Survival would not have been possible without God.

At that church in Oceanside is where I took some of the biggest steps in my journey to where I am at in my life right now. It is where I revealed to my brother what had happened, where I shared my testimony in front of my sister for the first time (that phone call I mentioned earlier had not revealed my abuse), and it is where I gained the strength to forgive my abuser for what he had done. That was almost as hard as leaving him, but forgiveness is necessary for healing. I didn't have to contact him in order to forgive him; forgiving him in my heart and in my soul satisfied the requirement set forth by the Spirit.

I am living proof that survival is possible. Are there days where I struggle? You betcha. Days like today where I pull some of my darkest moments from my past to the surface are hard. Thank God I have an amazing support system these days. I actually called my best friend and broke down a little bit because of how hard this post has been to write. She is so encouraging and strong and supportive of me doing this, and she understands why I have to do this blog series this month. She even offered to be a guest blogger this month, so keep an eye out for that post as well.

My story is the reason why I live my life by Jeremiah 29:11. God's plan for my life didn't include me taking my life at the age of 22.

Until next time, love and blessings.

Ray Rice and THAT Video.

You HAD to know that I was going to discuss this at least at some point in time. The truth is, I actually had some friends who know my past message me and ask me if I was going to touch on the situation when that video was released to the public. I had actually started a blog post about it, then put it on the back burner because I didn't feel like it was going to do any good. Well, now that it is Domestic Violence Awareness month, and now that a few other NFLers have been thrust into the spotlight because of domestic violence, I guess it just feels like a good time to start talking about it.

When I woke up on that Monday morning, my Facebook newsfeed was just hammered with post after post of this video- from TMZ to HLN to USA Today and even my own friends. Given the fact that I live in Maryland, obviously I'm in the heart of Ravens territory, and seeing as how I have hundreds of friends that are here in Maryland, naturally the discussion amongst them was rampant.

Upon viewing the video footage of "elevatorgate," I immediately sympathized with Ray Rice's then-fiancee (who is now his wife). I mean, come on...that was a gnarly hit she took. Now I'm going to be honest here and say that I played into the gender inequality that is plaguing society these days; I instantly demonized Ray Rice and stated my support in his suspension from the NFL and the end of his contract with the Baltimore Ravens. What my one-sided survivor's brain failed to notice in that video the first time I watched it, though, was that Janay Rice slapped her then-fiance (who is now her husband) in the face before even stepping foot on that elevator. Inside that elevator, Janay Rice made violent physical contact with Ray's body more than once before Ray delivered what is now the punch heard 'round the nation.

You guys:

RAY RICE IS JUST AS MUCH A VICTIM AS JANAY RICE.

Here comes society chiming in and crying, "HOW CAN HE BE A VICTIM??" "He's bigger and stronger than her though!" "He's a MAN. Men can't be victims...."

WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! While I do believe that Ray Rice could have handled the situation a bit differently than punching her in the face, I do whole heartedly believe that Ray Rice was victimized in that elevator. I have said it before and I will say it again:

DOMESTIC VIOLENCE DOES NOT DISCRIMINATE.

ANYONE can be a victim of domestic violence.

Since the incident, I have somewhat re-wired my brain and the thought that when a man violates a woman, he's immediately a horrible person who shouldn't be allowed to reproduce. I was a feminist man-hater but now that I've educated myself and opened my eyes to what a victim is, I know that the lynching of Ray Rice in the media for his actions was uncalled for. How can we as a society turn a blind eye when a man is abused? Our one track mind is set on men not being victims. This mindset needs to change. 

This will conclude today's blog post. I will be touching on more statistics of male victims in a later blog post, I just wanted to get this one out of the way because I've really been wracking my brain to find a way to discuss this issue in a manner where I felt it would open others' eyes and maybe make them start thinking about the victimization of men. 

Until next time, love and blessings. 

Domestic Violence Awareness Month

October 1st marks the beginning of Domestic Violence Awareness month. As a survivor of the horror of being violated by the one person who was supposed to love me and care for me and protect me, this is very dear to my heart. In order to honor this month and all of the victims and the survivors, the ones who made it out alive, and sadly the ones who didn't, I will not only be sharing my story and my struggles of surviving the abuse and the aftermath, but I will also be sharing statistics and resources that can be essential in surviving domestic violence, in order to educate those who may not be fully aware of the turmoil of domestic violence.

As I sit here and think about my experience, as I often do, I think of how lucky I am to be alive. If it wasn't the abuse that almost killed me, it was what I experienced after I got out. Sometimes its hard to talk about, but I know that sharing my story not only aids in continued healing of my soul and the emotional scars that still remain, but it could also help other victims gain the strength and courage that is necessary to escape.

Domestic violence does not discriminate; gender, social status, etc does not play a role in domestic violence. Abuse is not just physical, but emotional, mental, verbal, and sexual as well. I personally believe that emotional abuse is almost just as bad as physical abuse, as emotional scars linger on far longer than a physical manifestation of the violence. Bruises on my face and my body have long since faded, but the scars that remain on my heart and my emotional well-being are still there. They are not visible to the outside world; they are my scars to bear, and they are visible to only me. Oh believe me, there are not as many as there used to be, as I have been healing for a long time, but they still remain. It took me a very long time to transition from a victim mindset to a survivor mindset. I decided that I could no longer let the abuse define who I was; I couldn't let it rule my life anymore. I escaped a horrible situation only by the grace of God.

So, this is just the first of 31 posts. If you are reading this, please continue to read my daily posts throughout the month. You don't have to, but I would appreciate it. My main hope is that maybe something I write strikes a nerve in someone, who may be in a situation that they are drowning in or they may know someone who doesn't realize what is happening, and can in turn help that individual. Also, if you have any questions, comments, etc- please reach out to me. I am always available.

Love and blessings, until next time.

where were you when the world stopped turning

What can I say about today, that hasn't been said countless times in the past 13 years? I woke up this morning and sort of just laid in bed and let the flurry of thoughts and emotions just resound inside my head. There are moments in my life where I can remember everything in vivid detail; today is one of those moments.

Thirteen years ago, I was a sophomore in high school. I woke up and got ready for school, just as I did on any other day. I walked out the end of the driveway to wait for my school bus, just as I did on any other day. I got on the bus and there was a girl talking about how a plane crashed in New York. Okay, not like any other day. It didn't phase me though, as I plugged in my headphones and zoned out on the way to school, just as I did on any other day.

When we got to school, and I walked through the hallways, I realized that this plane crash was an entirely different situation than I initially thought. People were full on freaking out; crying hysterically, hugging each other. I was sitting in the choir room, looking around at the somber faces of my fellow choir members, as our director began talking about the events that were transpiring across the country. Planes crashing, buildings burning and collapsing, thousands of people dying as police and fire rescue crews did everything they could to save innocent souls. Only when I was sitting in my English class and my teacher turned on the TV and I saw the burning towers did I realize that this plane crash was so much more than just a plane crash.

This was a calculated attack on our country.

As a bratty little 15 year old in high school, I didn't really know how to process that information. It didn't really throw me for a loop or anything, but as someone who absorbs the emotions and feelings of those around me, the pain that I was bearing witness to broke my heart and absolutely floored me.

I've been a lot of places and I've seen a lot of things in the past 13 years. I went from being a bratty high schooler who didn't really understand the magnitude of a situation, to a woman who has served her beloved country in the United States Marine Corps and has lost many friends in the wars that followed the September 11th terrorist attacks. I wasn't as emotionally driven back in 2001 as I am now, and I guess that is the difference between 9/11 for me as a civilian, and 9/11 for me as a Marine. Don't get me wrong- I am in no way saying that this day is harder for me as it is for anyone else; everyone has their own emotions on a day like today. I guess what I'm saying is that as a result of my time in the Marines, I've become a lot more emotionally aware (and somewhat attached) to the events of 9/11 and the emotions that surround such a profound day.

Let us never forget the souls that were lost on this day.

When I am desperate.....HE SHOWS UP!

If you have read ANY of my previous blog posts, then you already know, in a sense, what is coming next. I've talked about this A LOT since starting this blog, but I just can't help it.

When the Holy Spirit moved me to Maryland, oh my gosh was I scared. I had no idea what was in store for me; I did not know WHY I was being moved to Maryland, just that I had to TRUST. The past six months have not been easy. They've been overwhelming, stressful, depressing, lonely, exciting, joyous months. I've made HUNDREDS of friends and when I say HUNDREDS I literally mean that. If you were to go and look on my Facebook profile, I have 137 mutual friends with ONE person. That is HUNDREDS of friends that I have made here in Maryland in the past six months. Nothing has been easy here; I've been struggling financially, emotionally, physically, and mentally. That's not to say that I'm not full of love and laughter everyday- my nieces and nephews make everyday more interesting than the last, and laughing with my sister as we share secretive glances and glasses of wine are blessings that I cannot thank God enough for.

When I am REALLY desperate though...oh man, does God show up!!! Which, in turn, just strengthens my faith in Him and encourages me to keep on trusting in HIS plan for my life. Lately, I've been feeling like He was going to show up and give me a break. I've been feeling like all my struggles would soon prove to be little bumps in the road. I've been feeling like He is about to reward me for staying strong and not breaking down (I've been on the verge more than a few times) and for continuing to TRUST Him; and MAN OH MAN did He just set things in motion!

I have my own plan for things, like getting back in school and getting on my own two feet and gaining independence and living an amazing life. Then there's God's plan for my life where I have NO IDEA what He's got in store for me except that it's all laid out in Jeremiah 29:11 and I have to keep on trusting in that plan, no matter how frustrating it can be at times. No matter what, I know that God has my back, and when His plan comes full circle.....it's gonna be amazing.

trusting in HIS plan.

I'm not going to lie to you. One of the most rewarding, yet FRUSTRATING, things in my life is trusting in God's plan. Honestly, I feel like my life has been more struggle than smooth sailing, but when God's promises are fulfilled, there's nothing more heartwarming and comforting.

When the Holy Spirit called me to Maryland and I trusted in that and packed up and flew 3,000 miles across the country following His commands, I had no idea what I was in for. What I do know is that promises would be kept, visions would be brought to life, and prophetic words from the Spirit would come full circle. Katie asking me to move over here and help her just set the Spirit in motion, and the rest was up to me.

Right now, I feel like my life is just one big struggle. One question that I get a lot is "if God loves us so much, why would He want to see us struggle?" Our struggles in life help make our faith in God stronger when we make it through those struggles.

James 1:2-4

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. 

I may be struggling in life right now, but I know that God's plan is going to come full circle for me. There are so many positive things in store for me, that when they come to fruition, it will just make the struggle worth it. Yeah, it sucks. There are times when I feel like I'm being defeated and I get discouraged and sometimes I feel like NOTHING is going to work out for me. That's normal. It's normal to get angry at God when our struggles feel like they are too much for us to handle. I get that better than anyone. The beauty in all of this is that when we feel like we can't handle it, God sheds some light on the struggle and wraps us up in His arms and tells us it's all gonna be okay. Jake Hamilton reference level: WINNING. 

All the good things in my life are so close that I can almost taste them, and boy oh boy do they taste so sweet! I just have to hold on through the struggle and hang on to God's promises and TRUST TRUST TRUST in HIS plan!!! 

Until next time, loves. Be blessed. 

i want to die. (DON'T FREAK OUT).

Hold up! Don't go getting all worried or anything about my post title! There's meaning behind it, and if you decide to read on, I'll explain what I mean.

Today in church, I spent a lot of time reflecting on where I've been, the things that I have done, where I want to go and what I want to do. Where is my life going? What direction do I want to take? I spent a lot of time paying attention to Pastor Mark, too, so don't go thinking that I was off in lala land during service. :)

It's not uncommon for Pastor Mark to pray numerous times during a service. It's also not uncommon for us to take the hands of those around us and openly pray for one another. Today in church, he called for those that felt like they needed prayer to step out into the aisle, and had those that were closest to those people pray for them. Katie and I went over to a young man and laid hands on him, and as soon as I touched him I felt the air leave my lungs and tears began streaming down my face. I do not know this young man's story, nor do I know his struggle, but what I do know is that I flat out had a physical manifestation of the Holy Spirit and I just prayed and prayed for this man. He will continue to be in my prayers throughout this week.

ANYWAYS.

It all boils down to this: I have not been leading a Christ-driven life. No shocker there. I've been so in and out of my relationship with the Holy Spirit and with Jesus Christ, but I don't want to do that anymore. I CAN'T DO THAT ANYMORE.

I want to die. 

I want to be dead to worldly things,

and live for my Savior who is NOT of this world. 

2 Corinthians 7:1 (ESV) says: "Since we have these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from every defilement of body and spirit, bringing holiness to completion in the fear of God."

It's time for me to change the way I've been living, because I know that God is not pleased with what I have been doing. The comforting thing though, is that He knows my heart and knows my desire to please Him by living my life according to His will and His plans. 

What does this all mean, exactly? Well, it means that I'm going to be shifting my focus from here on out. If you notice that I'm not making it out to as many social events, this is why. It's time for me to start growing in a more productive manner- getting back into school, getting my own mode of transportation, getting a job, and getting my own place. I'm 28 years old and I'm not getting any younger. It's time for me to grow up and be a big kid. 

Oh, another thing about church this morning. We sang "Oceans" by Hillsong United and I totally drowned in the Spirit's love. That song just removes me from my physical body and takes me to a place where I'm lost in the Holy Spirit and if you could get one taste of that, you'd be addicted. Kind of like I am. :) 

Until next time, loves. <3

its time for a change.

When you see me out and about having a good time with my friends, you may see a smile on my face or hear my loud, obnoxious laughter (sometimes I snort). You may see me dancing along to the music, or singing along at the top of my lungs. You may also think to yourself "damn, that girl is so happy all the time...how does she do it?"

Well, you're wrong. I'm not happy all of the time. I do a damn good job of hiding how unhappy I am by plastering a smile on my face. Faking it, if you will. Now don't get me wrong; when I am out with my friends I am genuinely happy. Being around the people who love me for my idiotic "Jenna Moments" and my ADOS (attention deficit ooooh shiny) makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. The unhappiness that I am talking about is how disgusted I am with myself when I look in the mirror.

Show me a girl who doesn't suffer from body image issues. It's impossible. Women have so much pressure to look a certain way and act a certain way in order to live up to society's "standards" of what the perfect woman is. The "perfect" woman these days seems to be a size zero with a nice tan, long beautiful hair, a flat stomach, big boobs, and a thigh gap. THAT DAMN THIGH GAP!!!! These "standards" are detrimental to a woman's self-confidence and the way she sees herself when she looks in the mirror.

For me, it's a daily battle with my body image issues. I'm not going to lie- I used to be in really good shape. Marine Corps boot camp toned my body to a trim 125 pounds. When I got out of the Marines in 2009, I was in the 130-135 range but I had more muscle than I did fat. My body fat percentage was lower than normal for a woman my age/height/weight. Then this crazy thing called "life" happened, and I stopped running as much as I used to, got a little lazy, put on weight...and it's been that way for awhile. Bring in the factor of a stressful relationship with a man who never made me feel beautiful in my own skin, and it started to break me down. The depression that I had been battling with for a few years came creeping back and yet I had to keep it bottled up. When I was bartending, that weight seemed to just fall off; I wasn't "skinny," I was "toned." Running around and always being on my feet for a 12 hour shift did wonders for my weight loss. I could finally SLIP (not STRUGGLE) into the size 4 jeans I hadn't worn since I lived in 29 Palms. What a feeling that was!!! I felt so good about myself!

Since I moved to Maryland, I've put on a bit of weight. I went from wearing those size 4s, to a size 8, and the last pair of jeans I bought are a size 9 and those are now too small for me. Finding an outfit to wear when I go out with friends is a struggle to the point where sometimes I want to send out a text and back out of our plans because I feel and look so fat in pretty much everything I wear. It also doesn't help when my nine year old niece mentions my weight, although she does it in the sweetest way possible, it's still a dagger to the soul.

So this here is my proclamation for a change. I'm going to make a change, not only physically but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I need to learn how to love myself the way I did before, when I was the happiest I had ever been. Any and all encouragement and motivation is gladly accepted, but please DO NOT say stuff like "you're tiny" or "you're beautiful the way you are" or "you're skinny already" because NOTHING pisses me off more than that. You may be trying to be nice and encouraging and uplifting but statements like that do not help a girl who has such negative body image issues; in my experience, its actually physically painful trying to convince someone how wrong they are when they have no idea how you are feeling inside.

From here on out, you may see more blog posts from me, documenting my journey to get back to where I once was. You can choose to read along and join me on this journey, or you can just ignore it and keep scrolling, it's your choice. This is just my way of getting the issues off of my chest so I don't have to carry the weight of it on my shoulders. :)

Love and blessings to you! <3

Reflections.

Happy Wednesday. Good ole hump day. Sitting here thinking about anything and everything all at the same time, while my nieces and nephews play with play-doh and make a mess on the carpet, as Abby runs around without a diaper and yelling "NAH!" when I ask her if she needs to go potty, and texting my BFF back home whom I miss with all of my soul, and just wishing for some sort of provisions to help get me home because I miss her and those beautiful boys of hers.

Have you heard of that app called Timehop? Everyday it sends you basically a flashback reel of what you had posted on Facebook the past few years, and today my Timehop flashback consisted of pictures of my last couple of weeks with my ex, Jimmy. Sometimes I look back on our relationship and I really cannot believe that we stayed together for FOUR YEARS. We went through SO MUCH that would have essentially ripped any other couple apart, and yet we survived. The deployments, the training, the long distance. There were times when I was convinced that we weren't going to make it, but we did. The fact that we aren't together anymore is just proof that God had a different plan for my life, and I cannot be upset about that. It's been almost a year since we broke up, and in the past year I've realized that he was holding me back from tapping into who I really am. Don't get me wrong- Jimmy taught me things about myself not only as a woman, but as a human. He helped make me a stronger version of myself and for that, I will always thank him. I really do wish him nothing but happiness in every aspect of his life.

When God called me to Maryland, I had no idea what was in store for me. I sit here and I look back on the past (almost) five months that I have been here and I'm blown away by the friendships that I have made. My friends here have helped fill the void that I had felt for the past (almost) year. I don't know what God has in store for me in the love department but if I trust in His plan, then I know that it is bound to be something amazing.

Well, time to sign off and make the kiddos some lunch. There's a huge bowl of guacamole in the refrigerator calling my name.

Have a blessed, beautiful day.

my heart is so full of love

Back in January when my sister called me up and asked me to move here to Maryland, naturally I needed some time to mull it over before I made a concrete decision. Of course I weighed the pros and cons and I spent A LOT of time praying about it. When it became clear as day that moving to Maryland was the next step in my journey, my first thought was, "HOW AM I GONNA MAKE FRIENDS?!!!!" Now let me tell you this- I'm an awkward person; I'm loud (sometimes obnoxiously loud), but I'm 95% deaf in my left ear and that sort of makes it difficult for me to gauge my volume levels. I'm brutally honest, to the point where it can make people uncomfortable. I'm one of those people who lacks that brain-to-mouth filter thing- do they even exist? I say what comes to my mind and sometimes it can be a tad on the offensive side, and I rarely apologize for the things that come out of my mouth (unless I see that I deeply offended someone, then I'll apologize). Add all of these things together in one person and your end product is me- all five feet six inches of insanely awesome teetering on the edge of crazy. A person like me, with all of that going on, doesn't make friends very easily. Wait- scratch that. I do make friends but I'm scared to try because I don't know how people are going to take me in. They may smile to my face and laugh along with me, but then as soon as I walk away, are they mocking me? Are they laughing about me to their other friends? Are they making fun of me in any capacity? That is what goes through my head when I meet new people. It has caused an anxiety attack on more than one occasion.

On Saturday, ChiveMD had a mega meet up; a charity putt putt golf tournament at Power Plant Live! in Baltimore. Naturally, I made plans to be on a team with my other half Jessica and the third leg to the tripod, Michael. Then it sort of evolved into two teams forming, add in a couple people who needed a team, and one genius idea for everyone to wear tutus (because I was gonna be wearing one, so why wouldn't the rest of the team, duhhh....) and the end product just so happens to be what we now call the Tutu Mafia.

(Not pictured: Nicole. She showed up later)

(The guy photobombing us isn't a part of the mafia)

In one day, this group of people invaded my soul and etched themselves little places in my heart. I had met them all before and have adored them since the first time I met them- aside from Smoot (the tall guy in the red shirt and yellow tutu), whom I literally met on Saturday and instantly adored him. This group of people came together and instantly, friendships were formed, and an unbreakable bond was forged. I spent an entire day falling head over heels for these people and now all I want to do is hang out with them every single day for the rest of my life. They are the reason I will survive Maryland. They are the reason why I don't ever want to leave this place because after one day, I cannot imagine a life without them. They accepted me and all my crazy shenanigans and to be completely honest, they are just like me so we mesh well. 

I got home from the meet up and could not go to sleep for the life of me, because I was so high off of all the love I felt throughout the day because of these people. It's a high I never want to come down from. 

So to the Tutu Mafia- Smoot, Red, Kyle, Michael, Jessidoll, JMills, Nicole, and Megan- thank you for accepting me and loving me just the way that I am. I wish that everyday could be like Saturday. From here on out, it's ride or die. Tutu Mafia for life. I love you all to infinity and beyond. You make life worth living. 

let me tell you about my mama

This beautiful woman is my mother, Karen. 

My mother is the most amazing person in this world. I don't say that lightly or nonchalantly or just because; I say it because it's the truth. She is, without a doubt, the very epitome of a mother. When God called her to be a mom, He did it knowing that she would rise to the challenge, and go above and beyond her duty as a mom. She has done all that and more. I don't think I would be half the woman I am today if it weren't for her. 

Growing up, she did everything she could to show us that she loved us more than anything in the world, and she did a damn good job of it. She filled our hearts with happiness, our heads with words of affirmation, our bellies with breakfasts and lunches (with apples in the tuna and little notes on the napkins), and dinners that were prepared by her hands and always included heavy doses of love, and filled our ears with all of the best music to ever be made. When we were hurt, she kissed our boo-boos and made them all better. When we were seriously injured, you could see the pain manifested on her face as her beloved babies dealt with broken bones and third degree burns and somehow, I don't know how she did it, but she took our pain away and ingested it all for herself. She supported us through everything we put ourselves into- sports, dancing, school, you name it- and we succeeded because Mama had our backs. She never hesitated to let us know how proud she was of us, and she still does that to this day. 

A woman such as my mother deserves love and respect and to be put up on a pedestal. That wasn't always the case. We weren't always amazing children. There were times when we were FAR from amazing. Personally speaking, I think I gave my mom the worst of it. I was a horrible child. While my mother was the epitome of a loving mom, I was the epitome of an angry child, one that threw her anger and resentment right in her mother's face. I treated my mom with absolute disrespect, pretty much all through high school, and it's sad to say that I didn't realize the full worth of the mother gold mine that I had at my disposal until I joined the Marine Corps. When I all but spit in my mother's face, she still loved me. There were times when I downright DID NOT deserve the love and grace that my mama showered upon me. There were times when I simply did not deserve to have her as a mother; but what did she do? She loved me through all of it. She LOVED me, no matter the hate and disrespect I showered upon her. 

As I said earlier, I didn't realize the true worth of my mother until I joined the Marines, and that's the absolute truth. When I didn't have my mama anymore, all I wanted was my mama. After growing up and realizing exactly what kind of hell I used to put her through, I vowed that I would do nothing but show my mom love and appreciation and respect, because that's what she deserves, all of that and so much more. 

So, on this Mother's Day 2014, I want you to know this, mamabear. I want you to know that I love you more than you could ever imagine. I am so very blessed that God made you my mama, because He knew you would be able to handle a firecracker such as myself. You have made Him proud, because you hit this mom thing right out of the park. I pray that when the time comes for God to make me a mama, that He will mold me into at least half of the mother that you are. Anything more than that, would be an honor. 

I love you forever and I hope that your Mother's Day is blessed. <3

to my future husband.

I don't know who you are and I don't exactly know when you will come into my life, but I wanted to write to you and let you know a little bit about your future wife: me.

You see, it has taken me a long time to get to this place in my life. I know, its 28 years. I'm not just talking about the physical place in my life; I'm talking about the mental and emotional place that I am currently resting at. First and foremost, I want to take a minute and tell you that I am sorry. Why do I feel the need to apologize? There are many reasons, but the most important thing I have to apologize for is that I didn't save myself for you. Somewhere along the way, I lost myself and gave up the most important part of who I am. I gave myself away to someone who is no longer a part of my life, yet he holds the one thing that I should have saved for you, and for that I am so sorry. I can assure you, I am doing all that I can to protect myself from here on out, until you come into my life.

Secondly, I am sorry that I have already given my heart to other men. I look back and I realize that I wasn't following Christ's direction for my life, and those relationships were unnecessary, and ultimately, damaging. How can that be? Let me tell you. I once gave my life, my heart, and my hand to man and took his last name as my own. What I got from that marriage was nothing but pain and suffering. Not only was my body beaten and bruised, but my heart was shattered. I vowed to never be broken by a man again. I built a wall around my heart, forged together with bricks of bitterness and anger and supported by raging trust and commitment issues. I got out of that situation and found myself right back where I started: with a man who didn't deserve me. All the horrible details aside, I am not whole. There are pieces of me scattered around, that I cannot get back, no matter how badly I wish I could. I can assure you though, that I am trusting in God to restore me in His image, so that I can be perfect for you, whenever He decides that the time is right.

I also need to apologize for being slightly crazy. Crazy awesome, to be specific. I hope you can handle all this awesomeness; but of course you can, because that's what God has in store. Trust that He is prepared for so much awesomeness to exist in one household.

I would like you to know that I spend time everyday praying for us. I pray fervently for your heart to be in the right place, as well as mine. I pray that I can become exactly what Christ desires for you, and I pray that when we do cross paths, that we will know, without a doubt, that Christ is directing us. I pray that your intentions are pure; that you can resist temptation and strive to protect my virtue until our wedding day. I pray that for myself, as well. That I can respect you and uphold you and give you strength and support when you need it the most. Above all things, I pray that our relationship, and our eventual marriage, will be wholly and completely satisfying to our God. That He will smile upon us on our wedding day and be proud of His children for trusting in Him completely and making Him the foundation of our lives together.

I care about you immensely, though I do not know who you are yet. I'm waiting for you.

sessions with my sister II

I really don't even know where to begin this one, and it's probably going to be a really long one, so just bear with me.

I'm starting to realize that God brought me over here for so many different reasons. It wasn't because my sister needed me, it wasn't just because she wanted me to be her "nanny," it wasn't just because a prophetic word was spoken about my future husband. Add this to the list: God is teaching me, through witnessing my sister's marriage and the daily interactions between her and her husband, how to make my future marriage everything I want it to be, and everything I DON'T want it to be. Okay, it's on the list. Good. Continuing on....

What started as something that could have just been a little ten minute conversation, turned into something that was almost a two hour sister session. You guys, I cannot explain to you HOW MUCH I LOVE THOSE!!!! You have no idea how much it means to me, like I'm near tears right now. We start talking about one little thing, and then the conversation just goes in directions that make it blatantly clear that the Holy Spirit is leading this conversation.

Let me give you a bit of background, and Katie or Mama, if you read this, I apologize in advance if any of this makes you sad. I guess this writing thing is a part of the healing process?

You guys. My sister is one of THE MOST IMPORTANT women in my life. I don't have many of them, but she is definitely top 5. Like, my number two. Mama is number one. Anyways. I remember my sister teaching me really important things. We shared a room my entire childhood pretty much. I remember she helped me learn how to read, she helped me learn how to tie my shoes by letting me practice tying a really pretty blue satin ribbon around her wrist; a ribbon that we took from one of my teddy bears, I think. I remember how she used to carry me around like I was her baby, and she even took me to show and tell once. Then we started growing up, and she started getting too cool for her baby sister. I recall one particular day when she was leaving me behind to go hang out with her friends and I yelled at her and called her a piss-ant. Yeah, I called my sister a piss-ant. I think I was seven? I remember seeing a hickey on her neck when she was like 16, I think, and I called her a really horrible name and told her to stay away from me, she was gross. I remember when our parents told us they were getting a divorce, and I remember the night we had a dinner and we made the decision who we were going to live with. Ryan and Josh chose to stay with dad in the house that we had all grown up in, and Katie decided to go with mom. Then it was my turn to choose sides- to choose between my mother and my father. I stared into my bowl of chicken noodle soup and I couldn't handle it anymore and ran into the living room, and sat on the piano bench. Katie came in and sat next to me and held my hand and said that deep down inside, I already knew the answer, and that it was okay. So, Katie and I moved out of our childhood home into a new apartment with our mom. All I remember is feeling very alone all the time. Katie was gone with her friends a lot, and mom was working. Then I remember the day that my sister told me that she had signed papers and enlisted in the Marines, and that she would be leaving after she graduated high school. She had chopped her hair off and SHE WAS LEAVING ME. Essentially abandoning me. I had nobody else. Who was going to help me be a teenager? Who was going to help me navigate high school? Who was going to help me pick out dresses for prom and homecoming? Who was going to be there for me to teach me everything I needed to know about dating and choosing a good boyfriend? I needed my sister to be there for me and she was leaving me.

Since I have been here (almost two months now), we have talked a couple of times about my heart and how I feel about myself. My heart is not whole, and a lot of my heart is closed off. We talked about vows that we make to ourselves and how those vows close off our hearts and essentially become stones, that are very hard to get rid of. What most of you don't know, now that I've been making all kinds of new friends over here in Maryland, is that I was once married. During that marriage, I endured abuse on many different levels. I was physically, mentally, emotionally, verbally, and at times, sexually abused. I won't go into all of the nitty gritty detail here in this blog post, because this is essentially about tonights session with my sis, but what stemmed from that abuse, was a vow that I made to myself that I WILL NEVER EVER EVER allow a man to treat me that way EVER AGAIN. NEVER. Which, you know, is a good vow to make, right? Well, not exactly. I feel I have to constantly guard my heart from everyone that comes into my life, and it gets so exhausting. What I have realized is that in order for someone to love me completely and wholly, I have to first be able to see myself the way that God sees me. I've been damaged; my ex-husband repeatedly told me that I was worthless, that I could never make anyone happy, that I was a waste of time, and many other more horrible things that I refuse to repeat on this blog. I began to believe those things he told me. Now I have to get to a place where I am convinced of my true identity: the daughter of the King of Kings. A princess. That I am worthy of living and worthy of being loved and that my heart is beautiful and full of life and love and that someday, my heart will be handed to a man that God created just for me.

I am in NO WAY saying that my parents failed me. If there is ONE thing my parents taught my siblings and I, its how to LOVE. We never went without love. Ever. We were hugged and kissed and loved every single day of our childhood lives. They played with us and tickled us and we played games as a family. We went on trips and we spent time camping at the river and boating and enjoying time with other families. WE WERE SO LOVED. What I wasn't taught was how to guard my heart and save it for one person; for the RIGHT PERSON. I wasn't taught how to protect my virtue and wait for The One. Now, after a nightmare of a marriage and four years of wasted time that have left me reeling and hating who I am as a woman and a person, I am 28 years old and I have to start over. The good thing about this is that I now know what I want, and I know what I deserve. The time is now to keep my heart guarded while God does His work on me to make me perfect for the man that awaits me.

paleo chocolate chip banana muffins.

Overripe bananas. Nobody likes those. So what do we do with them? We bake with them. I shouldn't be saying "we" because there was no "we" involved in this kitchen adventure. It was me. Katie had studying to do.

For those of you who DON'T know, I absolutely LOVE baking. I like cooking, but I'm really not as good at that as I am at baking. Don't get me wrong- I'm an amazing cook (or so I've been told), but baking is like my knock 'em dead card. It doesn't matter if its cake or cookies or cupcakes or muffins or whathaveyou....I freaking LOVE baking.

So today I decide to make banana muffins because the bananas are turning black and they need to be put to use. Now, Katie and I aren't eating bread so obviously I had to go with a paleo recipe. Now, if you know anything at all about eating paleo, then you know that it can be difficult to make yummy treats while sticking to the paleo (or paleo-ish) diet that we are on right now. Ever since I cut gluten out of my diet when I moved here, I have never felt better. I had a cheat day on my birthday but that's okay. Other than that, I've pretty much stuck with the whole gluten free, paleo-ish diet. We are kinda scared to go off the deep end and just go full on paleo. What can I say? I like chocolate. A LOT. And I highly doubt that chocolate is paleo.

I ended up finding an amazing recipe....on Pinterest of all places. It was one of those ones where someone blogged someone else's blog or something like that, so I had to go through three hyperlinks just to get to the actual recipe. Annoyance.

 Paleo Chocolate Chip Banana Muffins

http://gfrealfood.com/2012/01/21/banana-chocolate-chip-muffins/

The main satisfaction that I gain from baking is not delicious yummies. My satisfaction stems from other people enjoying the fruits of my kitchen labors. When someone's sweet tooth is satisfied because of my baking, then all is right in the world. 

I hope you guys try out this recipe. If you do, let me know how they turned out for you! We love to warm them up in the microwave and then smother them with butter, because....you know that's so paleo. I'm partial to coconut oil though. :) 

Happy baking, my friends!!!! 

Good Friday

Ever since I began my relationship with Jesus Christ, I was always a little conflicted as to why it's called Good Friday. I mean, if you've watched The Passion of the Christ, and you saw how they murdered him in such a brutal and torturous manner, how can that be good? Then I started to learn. 

YOU GUYS!!! ON GOOD FRIDAY, JESUS CHRIST DIED FOR US!!!! 

John 3:16-17

"For God SO LOVED THE WORLD that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world may be saved through him." 

1 Peter 2:24

"He himself BORE OUR SINS in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. 

BY HIS WOUNDS YOU HAVE BEEN HEALED."

1 Peter 3:18

"For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made ALIVE in the Spirit."

Jesus Christ came into the world, flesh and blood and alive and born of a virgin. God sent him into the world for this very purpose. Christ's life was laid out from the very beginning. This is what is so mind-blowing to me, and it gets me every single time and makes my heart feel better than ever. 

THERE IS A MAN WHO LOVED ME SO MUCH HE DIED FOR ME. 

DIED. FOR. ME.

Stay tuned, my friends.

SUNDAY IS COMING. 

I never used to like pears

So this morning, as I'm doing a million different things AKA cleaning my room/sorting laundry/taking care of children/laying the smack down on said children (AKA putting Josh in timeout for hitting Eli).....yeah, bare with me. Abby asks me for a pear. Then Eli asks me for a pear. Abby won't share, naturally, so Eli gets his own, and I eat a few slices, and it got the hamster spinning in my head....as if I need anything else going on in there.

I never used to like pears all that much, until I went to boot camp.

YOU GUYS!!! THIS IS WHAT MY BRAIN DOES!!!!! It's so friggin' sporadic! HAHA.

It's the truth. I'm pretty sure my brother Josh was the one who liked pears in the family. I was a little (a lot) picky and didn't eat anything my mother put in front of me. Unless it was chicken. Then I went to boot camp and they gave us pears in our box lunches and I swear to you, I would trade my sandwich for pears. Or hard boiled eggs. Crap, where is this post going?

Anyways, I guess I should just stop while I'm ahead and get back to the million other things I'm trying to accomplish today. This....this post was DEEP. :)

eyes wide open.

So, spring break is upon us, which means that all five rascals are home for the week. Which means we get to sleep in. Which also means that my brain is like "HAHA NOPE!" and I wake up at 6:30 in the morning. Not fair, brain. Not fair at all.
I realized something when my eyes popped open this morning and I sort of laid in bed and stared at the ceiling for a moment. I realized how TERRIFYING this idea was. For me to open up in this blog and be honest with everyone. Like, really, Jenna....what the H were you thinking? This is scary and I don't know how to do this.

My birthday was on Sunday. Who cares, right? It's just a birthday. I always kind of chuckle at restaurants when the servers start their stupid clap songs and singing to some poor embarrassed soul and I say to whoever is near me, "Yay it's your birthday, you're one day closer to dying." Cynical, I know, but hear me out. Birthdays are for kids; kids get excited about birthdays because of hats and party favors and cake and bouncy houses and pizza and presents. What is there for adults to get excited about? Getting older? Y'all I don't wanna get old.
The point in bringing up my birthday was this, and bear with me because it was kind of a big deal even though it shouldn't have been a big deal. I started the morning off with church- good way to start the day, yes. Then, this really sweet gal named Jessica whom I met on the ChiveMD Facebook page came and picked me up and we went to the Waterfront Hotel down in Fells Point for brunch/drinks with some of the other people we had met on the page. My mom and Sara both called to wish me a happy birthday, as did my brothers, and dad wished me a happy birthday on Facebook (which has come to be expected, I think). Then that was it. None of my other "friends" back home called/texted/Facebooked me to wish me a happy birthday; yet a group of complete strangers whom I had just met welcomed me with open arms and sang me happy birthday and gave me birthday hugs and made me feel like my birthday was actually worth getting excited for. If any of you Chivers/Chivettes happen to be reading this- thank you, from the bottom of my heart. What you did for me on my birthday was beyond compare- you guys ROCK.
I got home from Fells and went in my room and cried. I say "cried" when in all actuality I bawled my eyes out. I can't remember how long I sat in my room alone, crying, until my sister came in to see if I was still alive, at which point she sat down with me and sort of gave me a verbal slap in the face for missing home so much when she hasn't been home since June 2010. How selfish of me, yet she understood my homesickness; how I had just moved 3,000 miles away from my friends who I didn't hear from all day on my birthday. It wasn't until I woke up on Monday morning to a flurry of notifications, and birthday posts on my wall. Nice, you guys. Better late than never. :)

I guess this is all just a part of moving on, right? I didn't just take a step outside of my comfort zone by packing up and moving over here. I completely demolished the comfort zone; it doesn't exist anymore. I realize in order to make new friends and find out what I'm made of, I've gotta put myself out there. That means I'm vulnerable to getting hurt, but hey....I've known hurt. We are pretty good friends.

Hope changes EVERYTHING.

You guys. Church this morning was EVERYTHING.

One of the things that I was semi-worried about with my move here to Maryland was getting connected into a new church community. I had just started going to New Vintage Church in Richland, and it was amazing. I loved the worship, the pastor, the messages....every week it was like God was SCREAMING a new confirmation at me that pertained to something about not only my move, but about life and love in general. So imagine my anxiety when it suddenly dawned on me that I'd have to find a new church community, one that I loved just as much (if not more) than New Vintage.

The past few weeks have proven that I have nothing to worry about when it comes to finding a community that I love just as I love New Vintage. I am so happy that my sister took me into Cornerstone Church in Bowie. Pastor Mark really reminds me a lot of Pastor Matt at New Vintage, in the sense that they are both SO REAL in their love and their passion for sharing the word of Jesus Christ, and bringing people to know His love and His hope for us.

Now, for those who know me, y'all know I've got a passion for singing. So naturally, my favorite part about a service is the WORSHIP. Normally, I'll spend some time preparing myself spiritually and emotionally before I head off to church, that way when I get into worship, it's just me and the Holy Spirit and nothing else matters. It's where I can pour out my heart to Him through song. Well today, they sang one of my favorite worship songs, "In Christ Alone." I don't know how many of you know it, but it is a constant reminder, every time I hear it, that Christ is SO MUCH BIGGER than any of the worries or problems that I have in my life; that He has CONQUERED death. It literally brings me to tears every time I hear it or sing it but most of the time, when I'm hearing it, I'm usually singing it, too. :)

Today's service topic was "Hope Changes Everything," and one of the main points that Pastor Mark wanted to discuss was death. Who likes talking about death? I sure don't. The thing about hope, though, is that it changes how you view death.

1 Peter 1:3-4

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! 

According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be 

BORN AGAIN to a LIVING HOPE through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,

to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading. 

The hope that Jesus gives is a living, longing, and lasting hope. 

Born again to a living hope!!! That is something I am totally game for! I'll touch on this more in depth in a separate blog post, but there was a time in my life when I was SO LOST I swore I couldn't be found, and if I ever was found it'd be in death, because I didn't want to live anymore. Christ met me where I was at and pulled me out of that. I was born again to a living hope- a gloriously beautiful living hope- through Christ. 

John 10:10

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.

I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

One of the quotes that really stuck with me, and spoke right to my heart, in this service was this:

There is NOTHING that comes our way that He hasn't already conquered.

No matter what comes my way, no matter what obstacles I face, no matter what problems arise....Christ has already conquered all of those. How freaking comforting is that?! Come on now!! It really makes me take root and think back to EVERYTHING that I have been through in my life- yes, from childhood all the way up until now- and OH MY GOSH!!! I survived it all because Christ conquered it! I've said it before, and I'll say it again: The past 8-ish years of my life have not been easy. They have not been pretty. I swear I shouldn't be alive right now, but obviously God needs me around, because I survived it. Even when I didn't WANT to survive it, I did. By the grace of God I've been spared and I'm still here. I can't thank HIM enough. 

Needless to say, I feel very optimistic and very excited about what is to come at Cornerstone. I look back and I wonder why I was worried about finding a home church when GOD ALREADY HAS IT ALL FIGURED OUT!!!! Silly me. 

I honestly love you guys. 

my legs! they're jello!!!

Holy morning WOD.

"What the hell have I gotten myself into?!" 

The question that burned itself through my brain and my body as I warmed up (which was a WHOLE WORKOUT IN AND OF ITSELF!!! WHAT THE H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS?!) and proceeded to battle it out with my first ever Crossfit WOD (workout of the day).

This is no joke, my friends. After we were done with the WOD, which was an AMRAP of 3 power cleans (yeah, I'm learning weights, y'all), 6 toes to bar (which I modified to my weak-ass beginner level), and 9 burpees (nobody likes burpees- if you do, shut your mouth), in 10 minutes (I completed three rounds+3 power cleans), the new thought going through my brain and my body was this:

JENNA YOU SUCK FOR LETTING YOURSELF GET SO OUT OF SHAPE!!!!!!!!!

I don't even know how or why or when I let it happen, but it happened. To be completely 100% honest with you, I hate myself for it. I was in great shape when I was in the Marines, and I had never felt better. Then I got out and hated my life and everything sucked and yada yada yada and I gained a bunch of weight. I got lazy and unmotivated and was depressed. It didn't help that I was in a seriously unhealthy relationship with a man who absolutely refused to build me up, but instead decided to break me down. Yeah, friends, he wasn't THAT great of a guy after all. I'll tackle that subject in another blog post sometime. 

Needless to say, I'm in a new place in life, and that means getting healthier. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I don't want to look in the mirror everyday and see an unhappy, unhealthy Jenna anymore. I want to be able to wear my size 5 jeans without squeezing into them and then taking them off and living in leggings and yoga pants because my muffin top disgusts me. 

Here's to the beginning of a new journey, and the beginning of a beautiful transformation. 

jenna<3

Sessions with my sister.

I say "sessions" like she's my therapist. Which she kinda is. I don't know any other woman that I can go to for the kind of advice that she throws at me (sorry mama and Sara, no offense). My sister always has been and always will be one of my very bestest friends. I mean, this is the woman with whom I shared a room for a majority of my life. She taught me how to tie my shoes, how to read, how to shave my legs (don't judge). The bare necessities, y'all!

She has always been the one to remind me that God knows the desires of my heart (Psalm 37:4- Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart). I keep asking her, "So....if God knows the desires of my heart, then He knows that I want a man with a rocking beard, awesome tattoos, loves the Detroit Red Wings, and loves Christ more than he loves me, right?" To which she replies, "Yes, Jenna...." Which brings me to the ACTUAL point of this post.

Last night, we were standing in line at Chipotle (which has become a seriously common thing since I moved here), and ahead of us in line was a guy with awesome tattoos and an awesome beard, but he was wearing Orioles stuff so I couldn't be having that....at all. HAHA. Then she asked me a question that really got to me. She said, "So let me ask you this. What if a guy comes along and he has NO tattoos and NO beard but he has AWESOME EYES and he loves Christ more than he loves you?"

Now, the awesome eyes thing...that stems from a vision she had of me meeting the man that Christ created just for me. Naturally, there was no flashing billboard with his name and his phone number or anything like that in her vision, just that he had awesome eyes. HUGE help there. That is THE MOST FRUSTRATING THING about this whole "following and trusting in God's plan" thing. HE DOESN'T MAKE IT EASY!!!!!!

Now, to be perfectly honest....if a guy came along and he had NO tattoos and NO beard, but he loved Christ MORE than he loves me (Christ HAS TO BE the foundation- no ifs, ands, or buts about it), then of course I wouldn't turn him away. The thing is is that lately I have been so hung up on what I want instead of resting in what GOD wants for me. It shouldn't be about how a man looks on the outside that matters, it should be about what his HEART looks like. Is his heart created in the exact image of what Christ wants for me? It reminds me of this quote: "A woman's heart should be so hidden by Christ that a man must seek Him first to find her."

It just reminded me that I've been more focused on the world than on Christ, and that happens from time to time. Leave it to my sister to bring me away from that line of thinking, and get me re-focused on what REALLY matters- TRUSTING IN GOD'S PLAN.

until next time,
jenna<3

post.

The level of excitement that is coursing through me right now is not normal. I mean, come on....it's just a blog post! Why am I so excited about going saran wrap mode and letting you people into the deepest recesses of who I am?

At the moment, I am sitting in my bedroom in Maryland, 3,000 miles away from all of my friends and the life I left behind. What I have not shared, at least not with everyone, is the ACTUAL reason behind my move. 

My sister Katie called me one day in January and as we were talking, she told me that she missed having me live with her. I sensed a hint of sadness in her voice, which set the tears flowing down my face as I cried and told her how much I missed her. For those that don't know, it had been almost three years since I had seen her. Gotta love the military life, keeping families separated for years. She then asked me if I would want to come and live with her again. In Maryland? Can I think about it? Pray about it? Give me some time but YES! 

I prayed. I prayed relentlessly about the decision I was contemplating. I sought prayer from prayer warriors at church, who spoke prophetically from the Holy Spirit about my journey and what was waiting for me here on the East Coast. That was all I needed to hear.

GOD WAS TELLING ME TO GO. 
so i listened. 

I've come to this point in my life where I've given up and entrusted my path and my life to God. He already has it written. He already knows what is in store for me. 

Jeremiah 29:11

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. 

Plans to prosper and not to harm you. 

Plans to give you hope and a future. 

Most of you have probably already read this, since I have posted it on my Facebook more than a few times (aka SEVERAL) since I made the decision to move. There is something to be said about the relief and the release one can feel when you let go of the world and accept that which is NOT of this world. When you LET GO AND LET GOD, amazing things begin to happen. 

Isaiah 6:8

And I heard the voice of the Lord saying,

"Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?"

Then I said,

"HERE I AM. SEND ME."