52…Birthday Blog!!!

Fifty-two years old!!! That’s me!!! I remember when being forty was old! How does one get to fifty-two in the blink of an eye? I’m not complaining! Well, not about the number anyway! Arthritis, the need for at least one nap a day, becoming more forgetful…I am known to complain about that fairly often! Regardless, I am highly blessed, highly favored, and ready to take this new year by st…, well, let’s say a light, spring shower!!!

Yesterday, November 18th, was my actual birthday. I thought all day about what I wanted to say regarding my birthday. However, by the time the day was winding down, which is the time I generally like to sit down and put all my thoughts together for one of these blogs, I was so tired that I couldn’t think straight! I guess that is another sign of “maturing”! So here we are, fifty-two and one day old, ready to share with you my thoughts from…yesterday!!!!

There are two major thoughts that I kept coming back to but in a way, they work into one theme! Let’s see how this unfolds!!!

1. The number one question or comment I was asked yesterday was “Are you going to do something fun for your birthday” or some variation of that! In birthdays past, I celebrated in high fashion! For my 50th, Andy and I went on a ten day dream trip that included several days in my favorite place on earth, the gulf coast of Florida and a cruise to the Cayman Islands and Cozumel! That is one birthday that will forever be hard to beat. In 2014, another dream came true when Garth Brooks came out of retirement and I got to see him in concert for the first time. That had been one of my life’s greatest disappointments that I hadn’t seen him before he retired! Again, another birthday that will always hold a special memory! As for yesterday, I had another special day! I haven’t told many what I did but will share with you now! I had the whole day planned out perfectly! I was going to sleep in, wake up and as a friend of mine is known to say, “ease into my day”, around 12:30 I was going to pick up Mom and take her to an “short” appointment at KDMC, made her an appt for a long overdue haircut, and then she and I were going to go out for a late lunch together before I came home to spend the evening with the boys! Well, that was a perfect plan but things didn’t pan out that way. Instead it went like: slept in…check, eased into my day…check, picked mom up at 12:30…check, “short” appt at KDMC… and this is where all of my plans went to you know where in a hand basket. I could rant about this all day long. I really could! There is NOTHING worse than feeling like you got lost in the shuffle but feeling like that TWICE is even worse. There is no need to go into all the details because it will only frustrate me again but an appt for labs that normally takes about 30ish minutes, ended up taking nearly two hours. Ask me how many times I wanted to stand up in the waiting room full of people and scream, “It’s MY BIRTHDAY, let’s get this show on the road”. However, like any fifty-two year old woman would do, I sat and brewed over it. The only good thing about it is that Mom and I had plenty of time to people watch, gossip, and giggle. At some point during the long wait, I sent a text to my friend and hair stylist that was going to work Mom in for a haircut and told her we were stuck and I didn’t know how long it was going to be. She told me not to worry about it and to come on when we were finished. By the time we were finally in the car, Mom was tired, frustrated, and wasn’t up to going. I was so disappointed because she is REALLY overdue for a cut and was REALLY excited that she was finally going to get one! As for our now SUPER LATE lunch, we just settled on going through a drive thru and coming home. We were both tired and disappointed. When leaving the hospital, I needed to go to the post office before heading home! On the way there, we passed on of our favorite places to eat and decided to stop pouting, put on our big girl panties and go in and eat. We finished our afternoon with a delicious early dinner and enjoying each other’s company! If you were to ask me today how my birthday was, my answer would be, “Wonderful”! Even though my plans didn’t pan out, I still was able to spend the day with my Mom! I am so blessed to still have her! So many of my friends have recently lost a parent and I refuse to take one day with her (or my Dad) for granted! Turning fifty-two years old and having both parents still living is a priceless birthday gift!
2. Being a twin makes birthdays even more special. I love sharing a birthday with Tim. However, since 1997 (or maybe 96) when he moved to the Cincinnati area, there have been very few birthdays we have been able to see each other, in person, get a hug, and celebrate together. I guarantee you that I have ached to be with him every birthday I have had since then. It’s a twin thing. You can only understand if you are one! Probably a dozen times yesterday, I thought of him and missed him. I recalled birthdays from our past and smiled. We usually at the very least share a phone call. By the time I got home yesterday, got mom settled and came in, I was pooped! #oldageprobs My answering machine, yes, I STILL have an answering machine, was beeping that there was a message. I asked Walker who called. He said, I think it was Uncle Tim. I pressed the button and he hadn’t left a message. Walker said, “You NEED to call him back Mom, it’s your birthday”. I know he was right but I wanted to put on my PJs and unwind a bit. By the time that I was up to calling, it was late, he has to get up very early for work, and I knew he would be sleeping. We didn’t talk yesterday except for exchanging a Facebook message. Even still, I know without a doubt that he knows I love him and he loves me, not just on our birthday but every day! I am so thankful for the gift of being Tim’s twin and for all the birthdays we have shared together.

I want to finish up by trying to combine these two things into the one theme of my thoughts yesterday! I touched on it a bit when telling about my day with Mom. As we all know, when getting older, birthdays aren’t nearly as exciting as when we were young. Yes, we are thankful for another year but there is no longer the hoopla that surrounds us like the birthdays of our youth. The celebration and gifts become more about people than things. As most of you know, but some may not I nearly lost Tim to ARDS (Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome) ten years ago. Very few people that get ARDS survive. It is what people are dying from now due to Covid. The days that he lay in ICU on a paralytic and a ventilator when we had no guarantee that he would survive were very difficult days for all of us but it nearly did this twin sister in. One of God’s greatest gifts to me and our whole family was answering our prayers that Tim would survive and be healed. Over the past two years during the Covid pandemic, I have witnessed the pain of losing a sibling, a parent, and other loved ones when they went from being totally fine to deathly sick in a short period of time. Life is short and not guaranteed to any of us. While I spent yesterday thinking of Tim and Mom so much and how thankful I am for them, I realized that I should live every single day like it is my birthday! Starting now, I am going to strive to celebrate each day and be thankful for the gifts (which are PEOPLE!!!) in my life! God has been so, so good to me, given me more than I deserve, and at age fifty-two and one day old, I am going to put forth the effort to spend every day thanking Him for the blessings in my life!!!

Thank you all for the birthday love! I can’t even begin to tell you how special you made me feel! I love you more!!!

Will they know?

I feel like before I even start this entry that I should offer a disclaimer.   Even saying this, makes me nervous because if you know me at all, you know how much of a “people-pleaser, I can’t deal with people being upset with me, Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me” kind of girl I am.  However, when you know that you know that you know that God has put something on your heart to share, there is going to be no peace until you share it.  This has been on my mind for several weeks and I have truly fought it.  However, I have been sick for three days and have done nothing but lay in bed resting.  During this quiet time of allowing my body to heal, I have felt the overwhelming push that I am supposed to do this. Please know that I am not one to normally bring up controversial topics and I especially don’t enjoy debating so therefore I am going to carefully approach this topic.  Now to the disclaimer:  This entry may rub you the wrong way, may ruffle your feathers, may cause bruised toes, ETC. None of these things are my intention, I simply feel led to share what is on my heart and maybe give us all something to consider.

I am a LOVER of all people!  I LOVE my family, my friends, my co-workers at the nursery school and ALL of my little friends there, my doctor, my (pet’s) veterinarian, the people that I’ve become friends with that serve food at my favorite restaurants, my son’s teachers, etc.  You get the idea.  In fact, there are very few people that I can honestly say that I don’t care for.  Even with that said, I don’t hate them and honestly, I REALLY DO care for them but maybe we just don’t click.  Regardless, my cup runneth over when I think of how blessed I am with many friends and healthy relationships.

I enjoy meeting someone new and developing a new friendship.  This is one of the things that I like about Facebook.  I have made friendships on there that I truly treasure and feel as close to them as I do my friends that I see on a regular basis.  Chances are that I will never meet them face to face but the deep bond of friendship that I share with them is something that I cherish.

One thing that I am thankful for when determining who to be friends with/love (and vice versa) is that we don’t have to have a checklist of what is and isn’t okay with me/you in order to become friends.  Thank goodness!  Probably NO ONE would want to be my friend if they knew I was addicted to Reality TV, Candy Crush and Diet Coke!  Giggle!!!!!  The old saying, “Variety is the spice of life” is so true!  Imagine how boring life would be if we were ALL the same.  Seriously, we would probably all drive each other nuts.  But I was thinking, if we did have a “potential” friend’s checklist, what would my/your #1 question be?  I can think of a dozens of questions that would be on my list.  Most of them would be derived from my hobbies, character traits, personality, etc.  It would be hard for me to choose my #1, most important question of all.  However, I can tell you what the very last question would be IF I cared enough to ask it.  It would be….what is your sexual preference?

Yes, I said it!  I honestly don’t care who you share your bed with.  (GASP!!!!)  Yes, I was born and raised in church.  Well, really I was born at St. Mary’s Hospital but you know what I mean.  Yes, I know what the Bible says!  It says, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.  For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” Matt 7:1-2  I was saved as a young child but time and time again I have messed up and had to ask forgiveness more times than I care to think about.   The fact is, I mess up on a daily basis.  I’m not proud of that but it’s the truth.   Admitting that, the last thing I want is for people that I love and care for to question my relationship with God because of things that I do.  My relationship with God is personal.  It is HIM that I will answer to and be judged by.  Ultimately, no sin holds more weight than another.  A sin is a sin in God’s eyes.

Some of my dearest and life-long friends have chosen same-sex partners.  I value their friendship and can’t imagine my life without them in it.  In fact, a great majority of them, I was friends with LONG before we even cared about sex.  Was I supposed to “unfriend” them or vice versa when we discovered our sexual desires?  That would be kind of shallow in my thinking.

You might ask, how can you be a Christian knowing what that Bible says about homosexuality and still want a relationship with them?   The answer to that is biblical too!  Mark 12:31 The second (commandment of importance to Jesus) is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’    We weren’t asked to judge only to love.  Yes, I have my own thoughts and opinions on homosexuality but they are mine alone.  It is our right to believe what we choose.  However, I won’t let them cause me to cast judgment on my friends that I care so much for and bring so much happiness to my life.

With all of this said, I feel led to share a few thoughts on a topic that is in the local and national headlines at the moment.  I “married” into Kentucky and after nearly 18 years of residency I have come to love it nearly as much as my beloved home state of West Virginia.  I’ve been saddened by the actions that I’ve seen and things I’ve heard (on both sides) regarding the county clerk of a neighboring county refusing to issue marriage licenses. I realize that this is a touchy subject all around and I want to thoughtfully and carefully address a few things.  1) I/we are friends with our County Clerk.  When the verdict came down that licenses must be issued to everyone, my heart broke for him.  I saw him on the local news that night and he looked like a broken man.  He ALWAYS has a smile on his face, quick to offer kind words and is super friendly.  That evening the personal strain was obvious as he was torn between his religious beliefs and the duties that he was elected to perform.  He (for about 24 hours) took time to consider his options and decide what he would do.  His decision, being that he has a family to support and was entrusted with the job he was elected to, was to resume issuing licenses.  Does this mean he supports same sex marriage?  No.  It simply means that when he took the oath of office before his family and God, he agree to uphold the duties required of him.  I have to admit, my opinion of him is different now than what it was before.   I think MORE of him now.  I recently spoke to him and told him how proud I was of the way he conducted himself throughout that time.  He didn’t cast judgment on anyone.  He simply made it about himself and his convictions.  In my opinion, he is a stand up man and our county is fortunate to have him as one of our leaders.  2) There is NO comparison in his conduct and the conduct of the County Clerk in the news now.  I can respect that she is following her conviction.  I TRULY understand.  I know how stressful it is to under conviction about something I have or haven’t done.  It is not a pleasant feeling in any way.  I am not envious of this lady or the situation that she finds herself in at the moment.  However, I am saddened by her actions.  She has cast a dark shadow on Christians and our beloved state.  I know that stress often presents itself in different ways.  With her, it seems (my opinion only) to be anger.  As she has tried to relay her thoughts and follow through with action due to her religious beliefs, she has come across as judgmental and really just kind of hateful.  I’m sure, in her defense, this is a natural response to feeling attacked. However, because of this, I fear that her witness is causing more harm than doing good during this whole ordeal.

In closing, I have to admit that I am a simple person.  I am not a theologian or bible scholar, I hold no degree that makes me any wiser than anyone else.  I am who I am, a lover of people!  While thinking over all of this, a song (attached below) that I remember singing in church and around campfires at church camp keeps coming to mind. The song itself says so much, however, the way it is often sung (a capplla) is what really made me think.  Once the musical instruments are removed, all that can be heard are the different chords blending together for a common goal.  This is my wish for our state, our country and world.  Let’s join together, stop judging and start loving.  It’s really simple!  All it requires is that we focus on ourselves and let God take care of the rest.

They’ll Know We Are Christians

1. We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord,
We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord,
And we pray that all unity may one day be restored.

Refrain
And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love,
Yes, they’ll know we are Christians by our love.

2. We will walk with each other, we will walk hand in hand,
We will walk with each other, we will walk hand in hand,
And together we’ll spread the news that God is in our land.

3. We will work with each other, we will work side by side,
We will work with each other, we will work side by side,
And we’ll guard each one’s dignity and save each one’s pride.

4. All praise to the Father, from whom all things come,
And all praise to Christ Jesus, his only Son,
And all praise to the Spirit, who makes us one

Confessions & A Short Story!

I have two confessions to make!  Neither are anything that will call for a “Breaking News” alert, lets just say they are freebies about me.  In fact, those closest to me might even say it is old news.

Confession number one:  I LOVE the beach.  For those of you that are fellow beach bums, you might say “big deal”..  However, there are those out there that don’t enjoy it like I/we do.  I’ve even participated in debates with the non-beach lovers over what is so great about it.  My number one reason is ALWAYS the same.  The beach is the only place on earth, that my soul is TOTALLY at peace.  It’s true!  When I look out over the ocean so many thoughts and emotions come to me.  For instance, how BIG the ocean is versus how small I am or how BIG I am versus a grain of sand.  But the ocean, the sand and ME are all part of God’s creation used for specific purposes.  My number two reason is generally that I can actually relax there.  I love to watch and listen as the waves crash on the shore.  It is so peaceful and soothing to me.  It is usually about the second or the third day at the beach that I feel my shoulders relax.  I don’t know about anyone else but I carry ALL of my stress in my shoulders.  I don’t do it intentionally, it just happens.   Sometimes, when I lay in bed at night trying to go to sleep, I realize that my shoulders are so tense that I couldn’t go to sleep if I wanted to.  I literally have to mentally and physically release them if that makes sense.  My number three reason is a result of one & two.  With my soul at peace and my body relaxed, I find that my mind is open to receive.  Receive what?  Maybe a heart to heart conversation with a family member or friend that includes things that need to be said or a shared memory that was long forgotten, maybe learning something new or maybe even being so quiet that I actually can hear God speaking to me!!!

Confession number two:  It seems like I am in a constant battle with myself about being “good enough”.  I know that it is impossible to be perfect and thankfully I have no desire to be.  But being “good enough” is something I really struggle with.  There is not much in life that I want more than to be a good person, wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, niece, friend, etc.   I want to be dependable, trust-worthy, fair, honest, loving, a problem-solver and the list goes on to/for all of the people in my life.  The problem is that I mess up, say things I shouldn’t say, think things I shouldn’t think, do things I shouldn’t do, you get the picture.  It’s when those things happen, I declare myself a failure then the battle starts with when am I ever going to be good enough to stop these things from happening.  I wonder sometimes if everyone feels this way or if it is something I should seriously seek counseling for.

I’m sure by now, you are wondering why I am making these confessions!  I decided it was the best way to preface the story that I wanted to share about something that happened on my recent vacation.  Until now, I’ve not told anyone this story, not even those I vacationed with.  However, I knew in time that I would be ready to share it and the time has come.

I don’t know when this beach “tradition” started for me but one of my favorite things to do is collect up a bunch of pretty seashells and spell out my name and the year in the sand.  Then I  take a photograph of it as a souvenir.   I often keep the shells and gather up a bit of sand to bring home to create some sort of keepsake.  Honestly, to me, that beats anything you can buy in a souvenir store.  While we were in Florida a few weeks ago, I enjoyed walking along the shore looking for shells.  In fact, after a conversation with my friend Amy, I challenged myself to find a shark’s tooth.  She was telling me about someone she knows finding a large amount of them while on their vacation.  She said that they told her the key to finding them was to dig down in the sand some rather than just look on the surface.  So that’s what I found myself doing throughout the week in search of pretty shells and the allusive shark tooth.  By the way, much to my disappointment, I never found one but on with the story.  One day, Amy & I had taken our lounge chairs down to the water’s edge.  While we sat and talked, I noticed that the when the waves rolled back out to the ocean it was exposing parts of shells that were buried underneath the sand.  After a while,  Amy decided to join the boys who where out playing in the waves.  Knowing that she would keep an eye on Walker for me, I turned over onto my stomach and lay there relaxing while watching the waves rush up on to the shore and roll back out again feeling totally at peace.  It wasn’t long before my curiosity got the best of me.   I was intrigued with the parts of the shells that were sticking out of the sand and wanted to know what they looked like.  As the waves would wash back out, I would run my hand over the sand and when I would see what looked like a good shell I would hurry and grab it before the next wave came in.  Much to my surprise, most of the shells I found were flawed somehow.  Some had deep ridges in them while others even had holes all the way through them.  I found myself feeling kind of frustrated because the edges I could see looked so perfect only for me to fight the waves for them and then they would be flawed.  I continued doing this for a while only occasionally finding a shell that was worth keeping for my collection but mostly just throwing the flawed shells back out into the ocean.  Then it happened.  You know that voice you hear in your head but it is as clear as if it came from a person right next to you?  Many have different opinions as to what or who the voice belongs to but I am a firm believer that it is God speaking to me.  This is what I heard, “Trisha, don’t you see what I am trying to show you? These shells are not perfect but they were GOOD ENOUGH.” That is all I heard but that simple statement brought me to tears in that moment.  No, the shells weren’t what I considered “picture or souvenir” worthy but they were good enough to protect the life that grew in it until it was no longer needed.  I believe with all my heart that because my soul was at peace and body was relaxed that I was able to hear God speak to me.  He used the shells to remind me that although I am not perfect and have flaws that I AM good enough to fulfill my purpose while here.

Throughout the rest of the week, I continued to gather shells but found myself more drawn to the imperfect and flawed shells more than I ever had before.   I decided that I was going to bring some of them home and string them together somehow as a reminder of what happened there.  On the last night, Walker and I spent time spelling our names out with the shells on the sand for our souvenir picture.  Afterwards, we walked along the shore enjoying our last few minutes of beach time and feeling thankful for the opportunity to be there.  As we were walking, I looked down and saw a perfect shell.  I picked it up and was looking it over when I noticed hidden inside the shell was a smaller shell.   As soon as I saw it, I smiled.  Not only did the small shell have a hole it in but the hole was heart shaped.  God used another shell but this time to remind me how much he loved me.

                                                                 

Memories….. Do you remember that Dad?

I want to start this entry with a few facts for those that don’t know my history.  My parents divorced when I was 10 years old.  I have ZERO memories of hearing them fight or argue.  They protected me & my siblings from being stressed or concerned about the problems that were between them. To this day, even though the three Knopp kids are adults, they will still come together as our parents in the good times and bad.  For this, I feel blessed because I know that it isn’t always how it goes.  Even though I love and care about both of my parents, it is no secret that I am a HUGE Momma’s girl.  I think it is natural for children of divorce to be closer to the parent that had primary custody of them.  She has been my constant throughout my whole life, on the good and the bad days.  My relationship with Dad was much different.   I always knew that I could go to him for anything and whatever it was, he would see that it would be taken care of if there was any way possible.  I am thankful for the times he has helped me out.  However, we have never been what I would call close.  Do I love him?  Yes!  Does he love me?  Yes, I believe he does.  However, we only talk occasionally, we don’t know about each other’s day to day activities and some things I know about him I have had to find out through “the grapevine”.  This is a much my fault as his as the phone works both ways.  I have to admit though that sometimes I think about calling him and then promptly proceed to talk myself out of it, only because I don’t know what to talk about or don’t want to have awkward pauses.  The sad thing is that generally when I do give in and call, we find plenty to talk about and I hang up feeling happy and satisfied with how the call went.  I tell all of this so that the rest of this entry will make sense.

Earlier this week, I was thinking about my upcoming, weekend trip with the girls to go see Barry Manilow in concert and how sad it is that this will be his last concert tour.   Barry Manilow was my first love.  I just knew I was going to grow up and marry him someday! (Don’t judge!!!)  He has been as constant in my life as my Mom, just in a different way!!!!  It’s possible that I know every word to every song he ever wrote!  To say I am a HUGE Barry fan is simply an understatement.   Of course, I was just a young girl/pre-teen/teen in the height of his career.  While thinking back over the years that I have loved Barry I recalled the TWO times that Dad took me to see him in concert.  Insert here, I’m POSITIVE that he had ZERO interest in going to see Barry Manilow but went simply to make me happy.  The first time, I can’t  remember how old I was.  I think probably middle school age.  The second time, I was in high school and it was made even better by getting to take a friend with me!  Getting to go to a concert in the 70s was a BIG deal especially to a young girl who was infatuated with the star of the show.  I left both concerts more” in love” with him than when I arrived.

While reminiscing about those concerts and how exciting that was for me, the thought came to me that I should call Dad and tell him how much it meant to me that he took me.  Immediately, I started trying to talk myself out of calling by telling myself that he will think I am silly.   I tried my best to put it out of my mind but that little voice (you know the one) in my head just kept persisting that I call him.  So I did.  We made small talk for a few minutes and then I proceeded to tell him about my upcoming trip.  He was thrilled for me as he knows I am a fan.  I finally said that the reason I called was to tell him that I had been thinking about when he took me to the concerts and how much it meant to me.  He didn’t say anything at first and I immediately started feeling foolish.  Finally, I asked, “do you remember that Dad?”.  He replied, “I took you to a Barry Manilow concert?”  I said, “Yes, TWO in fact”.  I proceeded to retell some of the highlights of the concert for me.  He laughed and I laughed.  We probably talked for five or maybe ten minutes about it and then I told him that I would let him go.  As we were hanging up, he thanked me for calling him and reminding him of a time long forgotten.

After the call, I started to think about all the times I talked myself out of calling him and others.  Wonder how many special conversations I have missed out on because I was stubborn.  I believe that those thoughts or voices in our head are there for a reason.  It is my opinion that it is God advising me to act or giving me direction.  I am so blessed to still have both of my parents living.  I have friends that have lost a parent that would probably give anything for one more phone call or chat.  There are other special people that are gone in my life that I would love to have one more chance to talk to.  I guess I write all of this so that it will be a reminder of the importance of following my heart.  It is my hope the next time I am tempted to talk myself out of acting no matter what it is that I stop debating myself and just do it.  I also hope that this might encourage you to make a call or share a memory today.  It might not go perfectly every time, there might be an awkward pause here or there but chances are the majority of the time you will be satisfied and happy with the outcome.

 

A word about Valentine’s Day

I had this on my heart to share today and it’s been a long time since I’ve blogged so I decided to take some time out of my day to do just that. 🙂  I don’t know if this is for someone else or for just me but here we go.

With Valentine’s Day quickly approaching we are bombarded once again with “love hype” everywhere we turn.  The stores, television and radio are all reminding us to hurry out and get just the right gift for that someone special in our lives.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against love and giving gifts. In fact, I’ve been blessed to spend the last 17 years celebrating Valentine’s Day with a pretty wonderful man who thinks I’m pretty special too.  However, as grand as it is to love and be loved, I don’t have to try too hard to remember a time that I didn’t have someone in my life to be all ga-ga over.

Let’s go back 18 years to Valentine’s Day when I wasn’t in a relationship with anyone special. In fact, I wasn’t even close to being in a relationship period.   I was working full time in an office with approximately 35 to 45 people in which probably 97% of them were women.  As the office receptionist, I greeted visitors into our office.  Of course, the majority of visitors on Valentine’s week were, you guessed it, delivery people.  I saw it all – flowers, balloons, candy, fruit, etc.  The only thing worse than having delivery after delivery made was having to sign for them and then take them on to the recipient.  Talk about adding insult to injury.  I would walk down that long hallway with someone else’s gift while being asked time and again if they were mine or who they were from.  Then I would hand them off and have to listen to listen to all the jibber jabber that would erupt.  Please don’t think bad of me.   I was happy for my friends to have a nice surprise arrive and to have love in their lives.

The problem was the internal dialog that I was having with myself.  It would flop back and forth between either 1) questioning when my day was going to come and 2) wondering what was so bad about me that I couldn’t have someone special in my life too.  I would go home and dwell on being alone.  I pretty much had myself cast in the leading role of the old lady knitting afghans surrounded by a dozen cats.  I took my self esteem, wadded it up in a ball, threw it on the ground and stomped it for good measure.  Why?  Because of Valentine’s Day.  One, single day of the year that is all jacked up about love and such.  I was willing to take every single good thing that I knew about myself and toss it out because of all the hoopla surrounding a holiday.  I don’t know why I did that to myself but I am sure I was/am not alone.

Eighteen years ago, social media wasn’t what it is today.  I found myself today noticing all the pictures that have popped up on Facebook of the flowers and gifts received.  Naturally, we all want to show off our goodies and brag on the one that sent them.  However, I can’t help but feel the sting of loneliness flare up in me from those days long ago.  To the lonely, the flood of these pictures are just as painful as that long walk down the hallway was to me.

This Valentine’s Day, I want to challenge myself (and you also) to reach out to someone that might be beating themselves up because this wasn’t their year to find love.  Remind them that Valentine’s Day is just a day that in a short 24 hours will be over with, gone and forgotten for another year.  Help them remember the wonderful attributes that make them special EVERY DAY of the year.  But most importantly, let us remind them that they are loved, important and BEAUTIFUL

My heart changed for the better that day

Isn’t is amazing how even just the mention of an event can take you back to a moment in time?

September 11, 2001  I went to sleep the night before with the television on and woke up that morning to what I thought was only a dream.  As I lay there with my eyes still closed trying to wash the horrible thought from my mind, the second plane hit.  The loud and anxious voices of the reporters on the tv jolted me wide awake as I realized our country, our beloved & safe United States were under attack.  I picked up the phone and called my Mom to see if she was watching.  She was.  Neither one of us could speak through our shock and disbelief.  I hung up with her and called Andy at work.  I cried as I told him what was happening and begged him to come home.  I didn’t want to be alone & needed to feel safe.  It wasn’t long until the 3rd & 4th plane crashed.  I remember thinking, “Surely the world must be ending.”  Things like this happen in other countries but not here.  I didn’t like the new insecure feeling that was washing over me.  Soon, the reporters announced that all airplanes had been grounded and hopefully the terror was ended.  I was a bit relieved to hear that news but would never again feel the security that I had when I went to bed the night before.

The days that followed were all the same.  I watched hour after hour of news coverage and cried.  I didn’t personally know anyone that died that day but yet I felt a connection to them all.  My heart ached for the families that lost loved ones and for those that still didn’t know for sure.  I began to question most everything I had ever believed and worried about things that had never crossed my mind.  My dearest, life-long friend was pregnant with triplets.  I cried wondering what they would have to face in their lifetime.  I grieved for myself.  I had quit working in hopes of becoming pregnant.  Now this.  There was no way I would bring a child into a country that could be blindly attacked at any moment.  In the midst of my fear, grief, pain and anxiety, I found myself questioning most everything that I had ever been confident about.   Some days, I was just plain angry.  However, there was one thing that I never doubted during those days.  I never for an instant doubted that God was still in control.  With this in mind, I allowed myself some time to work through all the crazy emotions that had invaded me, picked myself up, brushed myself off and started pondering on my future.  The events of September 11th had changed me but it was up to me if it was going to be for the better or worse.  I began to look at my priorities and the people in my life.  I decided that I wasn’t going to live in fear of the unknown but make the most of everyday that I was given.

As I found the strength to take my power back so also did my beloved United States.  I saw the ridiculous walls that had been built to divide our country come down.  It didn’t matter anymore if you were rich or poor, black or white,  Baptist or  Methodist, went to Marshall or WVU.  We joined together and decided that standing up for what was rightfully ours as a joint unit was way more important than fighting among ourselves over things that were now trivial.  Eleven years have come and gone now.  Tragedy has occurred again and our hearts have been broken but life has gone on.   March 17, 2004  That’s a day I will never forget.  Bill Walker Scott entered the world.  My baby boy, a United States citizen!

Our country has it faults but I’m still proud to call it home.  I delight that we are “One Nation under God”.  The same God that had a plan on 9/11/01 is still in control.  I pray for peace for our United States and for our world.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nj9Fa6IFM8Q