Time of Your Life Another turning point; a fork stuck in the road. Time grabs you by the wrist; directs you where to go. So make the best of this test and don't ask why. It's not a question but a lesson learned in time. It's something unpredictable but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life. So take the photographs and still frames in your mind. Hang it on a shelf In good health and good time. Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial. For what it's worth, it was worth all the while. It's something unpredictable but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life.

another dream

Had a crazy dream last night...

I was living in a house where there was so much chaos. People fighting, coming and going, there were floods and earthquakes going on outside. Inside the house were so many people living, really hard to say who all was there. I was in my bedroom when this little knock came upon my door. Someone asked who it was and the small voice answered... "This is Jimmy". In strode a boy with platinum blond hair and little chubby cheeks... he couldn't have been more than four or five. He came in holding 5 grubby photos in his hand. I knew him (but really I don't). He was obviously upset and had been crying trying to figure something out.

I was pleading with him to tell me what was wrong. He said he was afraid. I asked about what and this is when he started showing me his photos. The first was essentially blank with a border. The second was just of him. The third was of him and his brother, when his brother was just an infant. The fourth was him holding his brother a little older than an infant. The fifth was of him and his brother playing a little older. He said... I'm afraid I'm losing my brother, I'm forgetting him. He started sobbing. He said, I know my brother is safe, but I miss him and I'm forgetting him. I cannot see his face or hear his voice anymore. He's gone and I'm here. We started weeping together. We had a conversation and I held him until I saw his countenance change and he had a grasp of what the truth of it all was.

I asked him if he'd be willing to share his truth with some peeps I loved dearly, he said yes. I lead him down the hallway. We stood together knocking on a very ornately carved heavy wood door. We heard laughter from the other side and someone said we could come in. There on the bed were Will and Joe... grown up and laughing and smashing each other in the face, messing around. They both sat up when we came in... they were still laughing, but then Joe's face became very serious, while Will was still smiling away.

I asked Jimmy to share... he said to them- "I was once afraid of losing my brother. He died yesterday. We were jumping on the bed when it happened and then he got hurt and all of a sudden he was gone. I was afraid I was going to lose him. To forget him, his voice, his laugh. I want him back now, but I know The God who brought the people out of Egypt, The God from the beginning of time... that is where he's at and I will be with him again."

I woke abruptly from this dream...

anger angry angrier

This has been quite the week... when is it that I decide I've had enough? I don't. I move on... but oh, the temptation just to throw that towel in. Boot straps? I have none. A painted smile? Hmmm... yeah, that washed away. I wonder what it is that short circuits in my brain? What is my malfunction? "It could be worse!" Yes, I know, but I really feel this crazy desire to run off, disappear, go running like some crazy woman screaming down the street. I want to smoosh a piece of pizza in my hands and hurl it at a wall. I want to go and get all tattooed and pierced. (OH, I did that already) I want to breathe without that breath hitching in my throat. I want my heart to beat without all of a sudden going into a frantic rhythm. Numb, numb would be easier... I guess I really don't want easier.

And then... I smile. I find a moment that has nothing to do with anything and I can breathe. I'm not overwhelmed and everything that I've committed to holds joy and purpose. I can see passed the whines, the cries, the stress, the homework, to do list and schedules, my own feelings of solitude/ insignificance/ unworthiness.

And do you know what this is??? This is the ranting of someone who has tried taking life into her own hands. This is a crap place to be... so now it is time to find the path that I wandered from. Lord, help me!!!

"A Quiet Mind" by Blue October

A Quiet Mind lyrics

A slow strangle with your feet on the floor
I've got 14 angels and we're sleeping alone
In the back of a cave, where the rest of us go
To feel normal

I call baby up. Leave me alone.
I'm in pain but I won't let you band-aid my wound
I'm mad at a stage where I can't seem to handle my own
I can't even handle mine

Give me a quiet mind and I...
I love you
You give me a quiet mind and I...
I love you
Until the end

Give me strength to be kind... To combine
All the good things in life that are so hard to find
But I have and I won't let them go like I do with my friends

Still hearing voices... From front... From behind
They're the reason I choose... When to live... How to die
When to cast... When to reel
When to buy... When to steal
When to fiend for the friends that taught you
Being inappropriate will

Give me a quiet mind and I...
I love you
You give me a quiet mind and I...
I love you
You give me
You always give me
I love you until the end

Chickadee Will

Several months back, I had wanted to have a tattoo done in memorial of my cousin, Will. Because I am quite aware of what a crap tattoo can be, I held off until something clicked, to the point when my appointment came round and I didn't "feel" what my artist had created, we worked on another piece and scheduled again a few months out. After, I had a dream of a chickadee, of which to my recollection I had never seen nor heard, and in my dream it was a representation of Will. I watched as the chickadee's feather blew softly in the wind and listened to it's sweet comforting call. When I woke, I knew that was it. My artist nailed it, and here my chickadee sits on my arm... A memorial to Will and reminder that God is always with me.

So, as I stated before, I had not seen nor heard any chickadees... Now, there is a chickadee that comes and sits on a branch of the tree that sits outside my kitchen window. He tends to show up when I am down. He does not chirp and does not have any company that I have seen and he only tends to stay for a few moments. Hmmm...

This weekend, Dave and I celebrated 17 years of marriage. There are many special moments we have shared together... this is one that I will rank way up there. Dave decided he wanted to go back to Wahtum Lake for our anniversary, to explore a different trail. We arrived just as night had descended, which meant pitch dark. Dave hiked down to the lake to see if there were any campsites left. There were not. He insisted on setting up the tent at a site near the parking lot... I asked him not to, he didn't listen. By the time he came back to the car (because he both set it up and tore it down- the ground had a crazy slope to it) I had fallen asleep upset. That was the end of our day. I woke up during the night to him snoring... by 6 am I was awake, cold, annoyed and had to pee like none other. This didn't seem like it was going to be a great day. I kept talking myself (internally) off the edge of being really bitchy. We fell asleep on and off for the next couple of hours- in which every 15 minutes I was either awakened by his snoring or he was jolting upright because of some noise outside. By 9 am I was done being mad and moved on and we geared up to hike.

The trails were beautiful. An overcast day, not too windy and no one on the trails. They were quiet trails, the only sounds were from us and the occasional chipmunk or grey squirrel. We headed out towards Eagle Creek. There was a point, about an hour in, where all of a sudden the air changed. Yes, I mean the air changed. I have never breathed in a more pure smelling and feeling air than this. I turned to Dave and made a comment about it, he noticed it as well. A moment later my eyes focused on a small maple tree, which seemed out of it's element (we're surrounded by pine and brush and moss covered rocks). Then out of no where, like the one on my arm, a chickadee flies down from a branch, looks directly at me and sings "chicka-dee-dee-dee". I looked at Dave and looked back at the bird. He called again then flew up to the branches in a nearby pine. The pure air breeze blew again, then all of them started taking turns calling and flitting around... to our surprise, there were some 30 chickadees up in that tree. A God given moment, what else do you call it??? It didn't last long, maybe a couple of minutes at most and a stretch of maybe 10 feet, but it brought tears to my eyes and silenced the both of us for quite some time.

The hiked continued in it's splendor. On our return, I stopped to look for that point again, the trees were still there, but "it" was gone- the air, the birds. I was not disappointed, but thankful for those couple of moments. Dave had asked me what I was looking for, I told him... he already knew. We were about a 1/4 mi. away from our final destination when I spotted a yellow finch. As I watched his flight from across our path to another tree, there they were, the 30 or so chickadees calling and flitting about and the pure air, again. And as quickly as it came, it went. With raised eyebrows and smiles on our faces we ascended the stairs back to the car.

What does this all mean, I dunno. Does it mean anything to anyone else, I doubt it. What I know, I know that God speaks to each of us in His own way. I was glad that Dave could share it with me, to see my moment with God how I see it.

Rest or Ride
Abide
within this dwelling place
resides a life designed
In the image which
is He who created.

On my own
is a choice
my own voice.
Never coerced
nor rehearsed
I am free.

Now to my knees
I humbly bow
How contrite and broken
words barely spoken
I need You and You
alone.

Has a month really flown by?

The great struggle with depression remains. I feel sorry for those around me, for those who have to deal with my ridiculous highs and lows. I'm learning to contain it, to battle the onslaught within my own mind. Unfortunately, I don't think this is healthy... but whatever. As of late, it has been interesting those who've come back around into our lives, to discover things have changed. I guess I am surprised at the general attitude of disbelief that things change. FUNNY. Do you assume things stay the same? That people don't grow or are not touched by events that occur around them. Even through all of this, I wish people the best. I hope they find the extraordinary life they are meant to live. Whether I am in it or not... I do wish all the best, all the love God has for them to embrace it and to pour it out to others so they may find the same. Peace.

I will bless the Lord forever
I will trust Him at all times
He has delivered me from all fear
He has set my feet upon a rock
I will not be moved
And I'll say of the Lord

You are my shield, my strength
My portion, deliverer
My shelter, strong tower
My very present help in time of need

Whom have I in heaven but You
There's none I desire beside You
You have made me glad
And I'll say of the Lord

You are my shield, my strength
My portion, deliverer
My shelter, strong tower
My very present help in time of need

Just remembered this crazy thought.

As I was thumbing through photos, I was reminded how my brother and I look very much like siblings... yeah, duh, we're siblings, but I sway towards looking more like him than Nan. I focus on my sis and she has some of the similarities, but there's a distinct difference (making her very beautifully alienesque). The thought I had, sent a feeling of uncertainty for a brief moment and I wonder that I made it through those lovely formative teenage years!? Only by God's will did that happen!!!

I seriously contemplated myself, who I was. I liked wearing "boy" clothes, I looked a lot like Phil, I didn't have a dating kind of boyfriend... did I want to have relationships with females because of these two preferences I had? was I a lesbian? Mom used to ask me if I was- probably would have been an easier answer than having to deal with a teenager (believe me, it wasn't long after that that I met Dave and shut that question down.) :)

I find it sickeningly funny how one thought, question in our mind can send us into a tailspin. Make us question the whole foundation upon which we stand.

These reminders make me a tad more empathetic for those who make all sorts of decisions I cannot understand. I think most pointedly... I'm not Judge, I can have my feelings and opinions, but ultimately it's God's arena and I'll come around. The question is -what choice will I make.?

dreaming to the point of exhaustion and seeing heros.

I have been plagued by emotionally intense dreams for over 2 weeks now. I have to drill my fingers into my jaw to undo the tension every morning. From laughing hysteria to my own death to the loss of people to traveling and parties and funerals... these dreams keep coming. They could really stop and give me a good nights rest.

Thinking about Grama... again. Remembering being told that Grama was going to live in a senior community living center. Being out of the home and then out of state for so long made it surreal- never pictured her in that environment. Trying to talk with her on the phone... being that I'm not a phone person anyway, was interesting. Sometimes as scattered as seeds in the wind, I was never certain whether or not she realized it was me. As time wore on the conversations became shorter and shorter. In the brief interludes I had with her during my MI visits, I could sense both her frustration and courage to be where she was.

It's strange, that I grew up partially under her authority and yet I have felt/feel so far removed. I didn't see her last days. I wasn't there for her when the road became rough. I never heard Grama resolve her determination that "I'm not going until the rapture comes!". This woman of authority in my life disappeared or I should say that is how it feels. I remember coming to the point where all I could do was sing to God for her. Lift my hands and sing.


Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Your perfect love is casting out fear
And even when I'm caught in the middle of the storms of this life
I won't turn back
I know you are near

And I will fear no evil
For my God is with me
And if my God is with me
Whom then shall I fear?
Whom then shall I fear?

Oh no, You never let go
Through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, You never let go
In every high and every low
Oh no, You never let go
Lord, You never let go of me

And I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
A glorious light beyond all compare
And there will be an end to these troubles
But until that day comes
We'll live to know You here on the earth

Yes, I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
And there will be an end to these troubles
But until that day comes
Still I will praise You, still I will praise You



She ran a long hard race. She did not quit. She loved, she suffered loss, she battled for the salvation of loved ones, she let everyone know "Jesus loves you". :) "Did you know that Jesus loves you?!?!?!" I cannot remember how many times those words came pouring out of her lips. Umpteen bazillion... I think that would cover it. A hero...

dream a little dream

So my third dream in a row, this week, came Friday night. The essence of it... Jesus decided to take me home before the complete demise of my faith.

We were walking the streets of some large city while someone was talking about a death they thought was going to occur of some girl they did not know. Whom ever was speaking said that the girl was killed after she was hit by a truck. At that point in time the group of us spread out on the sidewalk, so I stepped off the curb. A pickup truck backed up and hit me, it's tail pipe wedged into my heart before it pulled forward and drove off. I watched myself as I stood up and walked off and realized I was dying. I was dead. I looked over to Christ clung to Him and told Him "thank you!" -for bringing me home before I destroyed my relationship with Him. I was truly at peace and grateful that He chose that moment. I was glad.

Could you put it on DVD?

Okay... so my dream had me in such a laughing fit when I woke I had tears on my face and my stomach still hurt. Not that it will do my dream justice, but here it goes... to the best of my ability. I hope you can picture this!!!

I'm on a plane coming home from Japan, everyone is chattering. Mom is sitting next to me, Aunt JoAnn is across the aisle as is Joe. Audrey is somewhere towards the back of the plane and Sue is standing in front of me. Joe leans over and says "Hey Liz, you've got to look at this video I had taped..." "O.K." He flips the screen on a camcorder so I could see it and hit play. I could already hear Joe and Audrey giggling as the video began.

The scene is a bunch of Navy officers in their full dress (stark white, creased uniforms, medals, hats, spit shined shoes- get the picture?) standing in some great hall to perform for family and they look awesome. I see Joe standing towards the left side of the rank, slightly obscured by the rest of the men -looking rather suave. They begin this drill cadence type routine, marching and moving their lines without a single person stepping out. They look very serious with these immaculate lines. The drums are going and they are keeping time. These are experienced Navy men, very proud. All of a sudden the company comes to a halt, except Joe... he's still marching, until he is standing between two lines that are facing one another. He then begins to do a high kick step and clapping (think cheerleader) in a Steve Martinish (from dirty rotten scoundrels)sorta way.

The drill begins again. The group heads towards the Navy flag that is hanging on a pole. Next to it is another flag that is wrapped around something. They unravel that flag and there's Will with a huge smile on his face... standing there in dark wash jeans and a charcoal t-shirt, mohawk in full effect. Meanwhile the company has taken the flag and they get into a formation similar to one at the funeral of a serviceman, when they fold the flag. The flag is then pulled taunt and Will jumps on, full length stretched out face up and smiling huge. The men then fling him into the air so high he bangs his head into one of those paneled ceilings. He hits it hard enough that a couple of tiles get knocked out and because of this his feet become lower than his head. He falls feet first back onto the flag then falls face forward onto the ground, smacks his face, and while laughing begins to do push ups. (Joe is continuing his high step clap and is laughing hysterically.) The audience gives a standing ovation. The video stops.

I was laughing so hard I was doubled over, crying and trying to catch my breath. After I could speak, I looked over at Joe and asked him if he could record it onto DVD and send it to me.

I woke up. Took me a couple of seconds to resume normal breathing and realize that it was a dream, not real.

Thoughts, just thoughts.

I am missing Grama right now. The feisty Frances Hughes of old. The one that would yell one minute and insist on a hug the next. The Grama who had enough patience to teach montessori school, but couldn't stand the sound of children shuffling of feet. The one who would want you to sit and watch Wheel of Fortune with her only so she could be completely irritated with you if you beat her to the punchline. The one who would embarrass you like none other and then encourage you in your walk with Christ.

I've been thinking of prayer lately. and when I say lately... I really mean the last few years. Prayer is an amazing thing, answered or not. Makes me think about how God works differently with each person, unique as each relationship is. I've been thinking about how He compels me to pray with people. Makes my heart race with excitement, I'm sure my ears turn red, or at least they feel like they do, feel pretty much like the biggest yahoo and then I approach whomever it is. I ask if I may pray with said person(s), don't think I've ever been turned down. After all is said and done... there's a peace (for me anyway). God's peace.

When it comes down to it... I never stopped to consider that God may be using me in this capacity. Like my cooking for NS- which is self evident, is this another expression of Him? So often, in my lows, I wonder how He can use me. What do I have to offer when I'm such an incredible mess? When it comes down to it, no matter a mess or not, my heart truly is His... and He can use this dysfunctional being. hmmmmm.....

Caught in mid-breath

Had a moment this week that kind of surprised me! Usually, when feeling down/ depressed, I know it, I recognize and give name to what it is, being able to combat it. Not this time, someone actually had to point it out to me. I thought I had walked through to the not as dark side of the funk... guess maybe not so much. Makes you stop and say "hmmmmm....."

do you hear the sound? laughter of an insomniac

what's funny at nearly 2 a.m.? Everything and nothing at all. Singing and sewing, that's what I've been at for the last few hours. Creativity comes to me during these hours. I unleash the fury of every stray emotion into my singing and designing. It is therapy, the cheap kind.

And so, the laughter comes. Not a light, "haha!", but a severe, inwardly directed "HA!". My Mom used to say to me... "Elizabeth, nothing ever good comes in the darkness." I'm thinking, I cannot allow such black and white thoughts. For if darkness did not exist, how would we see the light? Where am I going with this... I dunno, this is the ramblings of an insomniac lunatic. I can say, I appreciate the light, but perhaps, maybe it is- that when my eyes become acclimated my appreciation diminishes and that's when night sets in... to remind me. Appreciate the light.

Me, myself, I

Me, myself, I- self gratification. Is this what it is all about? I wish it were that I lived life completely different from this statement, but I often think of myself over others. Not a good place to be and I try to fight it- with God's help there is a measure of success, but how easy it is to fall into what society is nowadays.

I ran into an exercise acquaintance of mine... her family moved here from the midwest/eastcoast a few years back. They have a son Gabriel's age. I haven't seen her for the better part of 9 months- ran into her at the boys' swim lessons. She was sitting with her family when we noticed one another. I went over to speak with her and was having a great conversation and then she introduces me "Liz, I would like you to meet my ex." I was a little surprised. "Just wasn't working out. We both wanted different things. You can't control what the other does." These were her explanation statements. All I could say was "Wow, I'm so sorry, (quietly)how's your son dealing with this?" She used no words, but her face and the thumbs down signal said it all. She explained to me that her and the ex were doing all they could to keep it "normal". I just wanted to laugh (in anger) shake her around a bit and scream "what are you thinking???!!!" "There will be no normal, can you not see what a f*** up I am?"

There came no words of wisdom, only a sense of mourning for her and her son and her ex. An overwhelming sadness. I tried to encourage her, just keep loving your boy. Be there for him. She's now working full time, going to school full time and trying to manage the household on her own. This is keeping it normal. I shared with her how not easy relationships are, but worth the fight. Worth the work. I have to remind myself of this when I go through my funks.

All of this reminded me of how selfish I can be. How I'd really like to shed that attribute and don on God's redeeming grace, but I find myself in a corner getting clobbered once again by the onslaught of the enemy. Lord, call a TKO sometime soon!

Who's throwing stones?

I hope it wasn't me. I don't have the right. All around me I see stones being thrown. I undoubtedly have thrown a few myself, but not right now. I walk by proverbial mirrors, um... the person, the reflection- I want to see Christ, but often I see my own sorry self. Hideous, that's what I see. How can He see beautiful. How can He want and cherish this person. I can extend that grace to so many, but I know my thought life, I know who I am and sometimes it seems so far fetched.

That's been on my mind a lot. I say it to many peeps- when they ask about Night Strike, I seem to often come to the point that we are only a step away from where the guests of NS are. 'Tis not difficult to connect those dots. One mistake. One poor decision. One moment of being at the wrong place at the right time and you're there. Not always does it lead to divorce, separation, homelessness or poverty, but it can sure rock one's world. So many media stories about celebrities and their hidden pasts and presents. Dare to look internally and say issues do not exist... Um, I think I'd rather look for my own phone poles to remove than someone else's splinter.

Referee- God, who is the ultimate in clever. Corner #1- Me, blind. Corner #2- the enemy who plays the same 'ol tricks- pretty lame. I fall for the old tricks, what does that say about me.? Prayerfully I draw near to God, I call out to Him, flailing my arms all over the place trying to get His attention... all the while He knows, I'm just oblivious because He's so clever. And then T.K.O.!!!! He's watching out for me. Knows when I've had enough and knows when I can continue to fight. I am not defeated, I am not retired and I won't hang up these gloves until I'm home.

Still pondering my past. Still figuring how to continue this journey- blog about my past. I am in pause mode, while God uses what has come up to do what it is He needs to do. Sometimes I am privileged to see a glimpse and other times I have to hold on to His hand, continue to have Him guide me. I am so glad that God does not tire of me as I do.

I think I have met some of the coolest people in my life thus far... the amazing thing is, they often come in small packages. These little people God has put in my life have had the ability to teach me profound lessons, bring me to my knees in tears, humble me greatly... lead me to where God is waiting just for me.

Today we had a conference at school for Josiah. I've been concerned about his learning- he has never been a performer, he's a boy that does things at his own pace when he feels like it for no one else but himself when the time is right. This has held true for walking, talking, potty training, giving his heart to the Lord and everything else in between. I'm sure it will be the same for academics. We have had times where we've heard of teacher concerns about his reading and math skills. I have had phone calls about periods of misbehavior. I cannot force him to learn, for out of that comes frustration for him and my learning of patience, which I do not like to learn anymore about than necessary... if you catch my drift. With this I have tried to be at peace with this subject matter and confirmation came today when we were told he has made huge strides over the last month and the teachers feel relatively confident that he will be where he needs to be by the end of this year. Josiah is so very full of life, never misses a beat and if you give him half a chance he will melt your heart like none other and give you the inspiration to be true, to yourself and to others. I find that most of the children I come into contact are very real. I love my friends children- from sincere to sassy, they are all dear and precious to my heart.

So, my thought... for as much as I say that I "love" these children, I am in awe for the LOVE that God has, for it is real and it is perfect... His love for us.

Are certain people born with the innate ability to say "no" or able to stand up and prevent things from happening? While others are left speechless/ so stunned that they do nothing? Is this response nature or nurture? I wonder how that works. To this day I still find myself having to rewind and revisit situations because I did not do what I was supposed to or responded differently than I should have, returning humbly and asking forgiveness to set back on the right path.

I've been watching my daughter this last year... remembering how much had already happened in my life by the age of 13. For this I am both relieved and hypersensitive to her being "special needs". I'm quite sure I would not be in my right mind if I ever found out that she was coming close to walking the path I walked. Have I given her the tools she needs? But even if the tools are adequate, I cannot fill the shoes of a good friend and this concerns me. I can only rely on Christ to provide what she needs, whether I see it or not.

I am sitting here pondering how I am going to proceed with a condensed version of my life. I'm realizing fundamental parts are long, drawn out and or are rather sickening/perverted. In other words, these events shouldn't have happened, they are not right, but they are part of my life and part of who I am. They are part of what has shaped me. God has saved me from much, forgiven me of much... I lift my eyes unto the hills.

What everyone needs... love. love. love. love. love. love. love. love. love. love. love. love. and more love.

Middle school came, I was certainly the butt of jokes- from my hair to my shoes, but I made the best of it. My only goal was to be on the honor roll, at least Mom would smile for a couple of moments. With an old-school mom, you can imagine the beef I took socially, especially when not allowed to shave my legs... my first major rebellion. I shaved. :) All down hill from there. Renewed my love of music in 6th grade when I picked up the saxophone. After a short lived piano career at the tender age of 5, it was nice to be back into music without being forced. Home life was really no better than before. I would spend hours at home alone while everyone else was out to work. I never left the house. I didn't sneak liquor out of the cabinet. I didn't sit on the phone. I didn't rummage through people stuff. I didn't even watch t.v.. I sang to myself. Made up songs singing at the top of my lungs. and waited on the steps waiting for someone to come home. *pathetic* By this point in time we had stopped attending the church in Sterling Heights and became part of one closer by. The youth group I attended was the furthest I could imagine from a God fearing group of kids. They smoke, did drugs, drank, had sex... I had never been allowed to hang with peeps that did things like that, and here I was pushed to attend church with them twice a week. This was such a contradiction, I did not know that peeps that did these things attended church. Can you read my naivety? Grama became a principal for their school. I remember wanting to attend, but not being allowed. I wonder why.

So, my first integrated exposure of things to come and how the world really revolved were with my church going peers. I can laugh now, but there was this guy that everyone looked up to as God loving, but he was also considered a nerd and brown noser by the "cool kids". He liked me... my folks (Grama and Mom) had no problem with us hanging out together- I think they failed to realize that even though he wanted to be a missionary he still had the hormones of a teenage guy. I won't go into further detail, but I remember feeling quite nauseated and mad because of his underlying yet openly displayed intentions and because my folks left me alone with him. I was 11ish. Jaded, I was growing tired of church. However, it was still what I knew to do. I went through the motions. Did what I was told. Acted the way I was supposed to act. I looked up to the youth pastor, trying to find that father figure. He had 2 girls of his own, how I wanted to be part of it. Later, it was told he had abused one of the girls in the youth group... Jaded. I was present in the church, but absent in heart and mind.

I had no more than a handful of friends and out of those there were only a couple that I really spoke with. Annette was the closest of them. She came from a broken home like myself and I think suffered the same emotions I did. I don't think Mom liked or trusted her because of her family situation, but we understood each other. Based off of my prior connection with Christ, I took Annette to church with me. I wanted to show her a glimpse of who He was to me, even though I didn't have that same connection anymore. I think she found Him, whether in the church or if God just spoke to her heart, but she started attending a church in her area after a while and gave her life to Christ. She was tragically killed in a boating accident the end of 8th grade year- the first death that I really connected with. I grieved and grieved hard. Alone again. Not a great way to wrap up my middle school experience, but... during high school orientation my eyes fell upon this particular guy.

Shall we continue? So, yes, failing 4th grade... didn't leave one feeling pleased. I tried to hide it, but come now, how successful do you think that was? I missed my Dad. Missed my Mom, she worked what seemed to be many hours. Didn't feel like I fit in the new neighborhood, school and even the old church. There was really no place that felt like home. The good thing, I had my cousins. During this period was the first time I stole from a store. If I remember correctly, it was a super small journal with a lock on it, from Kmart of all places. My Mom busted me and took me back. That sucked, and I was scared, but it was the most attention I had received from her in some time. Boy was she pissed at me! Life was rough for everyone all around, this much I know. Those feelings reigned supreme. Unhappy 101.

I don't know when it happened, but we eventually moved in with Grama into a new home. Yes, My Mom and Dad's Mom moved in together. My Mom, sister, brother, me and Grama. Was there anyone excited about that move? Not that I'm aware of, but for me I was giddy with the idea that there would be someone around when I was home and I think it addressed some problems that were out there, but above my head at the time. What more is there to say, but I was moved into a home with a Japanese mother who gave the silent treatment, a German Grama who yelled until her point was made and then smiled, a sister I looked up to who just wanted to be out of the mess, and a very cool, but never could do anything wrong brother. And me, an awkward, ugly preteen girl. There was the internal battle of loving devotion for my own Mom and the want to be love towards my step mom at the time. That was tough. In the end, I think Joyce truly hated me, or at least the fact that I existed was highly unwanted. There was no win for anyone there, but a keen development that I was for certain unattractive if not down right hideous to lay eyes upon. Loved waking up at o-dark hundred to read the Word, cleaning every Saturday before I could think about stepping out of the house. No, I didn't really love it. Watched tons of Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune, and thank goodness for MacGyver- there was one escape I could make. haha! Eventually my sister married and moved out. We didn't have a relationship at the time, so really it was just another shift in life. We were able to switch rooms around, that was the boon. There's so much that happened during this time, but the feeling that prevailed was alone, awkward, unwanted, outcast, ugly. At some point in time I learned I had a younger brother, cute blond and cheeky. I thought he was neat and he was the first chance I had to play the role of big sister. Still, like any other older sibling, there was some jealousy that not only did I lose so many other things, my position in life had shifted. I was no longer the baby, just pushed off to be unclaimed.

So I see now how I relate to that little girl. My coping mechanism for difficult times is to become superficial, this is where I lose my connection to Christ and thus creating a downward spiral. How else do we come to victory, but to lay ourselves down and pick up the cross? I'm sorry, but picking up that cross cannot be done superficially. I cannot allow this any further, but after so many years of this being my m.o., how do I not revert back to it? This I will have to ponder. Ciao for now!

So... Since the point of the blog is for healing, humility, giving me perspective, keeping honest, I thought it only fair for those who want to read this to read a little of my interpretation of my life thus far (in brief synopsis and in accordance to one who has a very poor memory).

I am #3 of 4 children. My siblings (whom I now adore): Nancy- she is the oldest and trumps me by 8 years, Phil- 6 years older, and Doug- (honestly he's my 1/2 brother, but to me he's my brother, get over it!) he's 11 years my Jr. My folks, Dad... what can I say about Dad, but that he's always been on a pedestal. I've tried knocking him off a couple of times, but I end up putting him right back up there... sorry Dad. Mom too. What's the deal that I revere my parents with some kind of awe, but a comfortable awe if you will where I can "rebel" and be myself.

I'll start where my memories begin, and to make you aware... that skips a couple/few years of my life. Before school began for me, I remember attending my Grama's montessori class, in Detroit?. All I know is that Grama and I were the minority- kids would come up to me and ask me what was wrong with my head cuz my scalp was white. I loved that place!!! The pink building blocks, the rice station and the blue water station, that's where I learned "where is thumbkin". Grama said I was 3 when I learned to read, I don't think that was by my own volition, but hers, ha! The first house I remember was in Sterling Heights. It was a cool neighborhood, one that I wished existed for my kids. There were no fences to begin with. Games would encompass the homes in their entirety. Especially the crab apple wars, but beware lest you pass by our house when Dad was sleeping- that wasn't a good thing for us. Devoted to the Church, in the physical was Sterling Heights Assemblies of God. That was where so much was cultivated for me in my relationship with Christ. I have to say, if I had to choose what was the one greatest thing my parents did for me, it would be that they helped and surrounded me with those who helped allow the Holy Spirit to resonate within me, thus made Christ real, accessible. Dad, tried to do some home studies with us, but let's be honest... I had no clue what he was talking about. Grama was also an "inspiration". those who know can chuckle with me now. hahaha! anyway. We were at church, a lot. Starting in a little traileresque type building to watching my Dad help with the new facility which still stands today. I loved Missionettes, Mrs Smith who led my class. That's where I learned my first memory verse: John 3:16. I was always intrigued by those who were on the mission field and those kids who were able to experience a missions trip with our church, I had high hopes that I too would go. I longed to participate in my Dad's class, because I thought he was the coolest of all teachers. I loved the choir, listening to the worship band and my brother and sister sing. I loved being in the main sanctuary through praise and worship, always so excited when someone was speaking in tongues and then the interpretation... always wowed me!! I saw myself doing outreaches, which I did eventually do with a puppet ministry. Fun!!!


SCREECH TO A HALT!!!!!!!!

Four major events happened for me in the upcoming years. My next door neighbor, my best friend David... moved away for his Father to Pastor a church in Alberta Canada. I was crushed. I had the pat on the head and move on attention, but really it was more than that to me. The second, The Hoyle family left for the missions field. These were the people who I was able to do the puppeteering outreach with. Now the third. We (my brother, sister and I) came home from a Wednesday night at church. When we walked in the house, it was dark. That happened, Mom would go to a ceramics group. The phone rang, it was Grama. She had asked for Mom, I had told her that she wasn't home yet. Indeed she was, sitting in the dark on the piano bench in the family room. When she yelled at me that she was home, that was the end of life as I knew it. For me, the official end of their marriage, the end of life as it was. We moved to another city, by my Grama (Dad's Mom). Good bye to my friends, of which there were a few that I held closely to my little girl heart. Good bye to my brother, whose room was next to mine... he moved to Grama's condo. My Dad was gone, and in his place stood an angry and hurt mother and a sister who was usually gone or in her room. People looked at me differently, treated me differently. So much for our "perfect" family. I prayed, and prayed and prayed... the answer was "no". Those things I promised myself, that I had hoped for, that I expected I let go of. I claim responsibility for my actions, but let me tell you how does one of whatever age this occurred (5-9 year old) deal with these strong emotions, events?????!!!! I think I remember once going to some kind of counseling (the first time I felt prompted by the Holy Spirit to speak to someone who was sitting in the lobby, but I ignored it... still bugs me to this day!), but never again... and you can bet your bottom dollar no one else in my family spoke about it.

No understanding to what had happened, except that if we had made life easier for Mom, that this wouldn't have happened.

All this time I have lived my life to embrace people, no matter where they've been, no matter what they've done. It is not my business to judge. Forgive and move on. As an adult, I can see this, I can understand it. Can a five year old do that? Can a seven year old do that? I would like to introduce you to Elizabeth Marie Hughes, a faith filled, sincere yet angry and hurt little girl... I'm sure if you look at me, at times I'm sure you see a glimpse of her. She resonates within me and I don't know how to put her to rest. There are three decades that separate us.

Moving on... I lived a house away from my Aunt Jo-Ann and Uncle Jim, Audrey, Will and Joe. That was fun. Dad, he popped his head in every now and again from WV. I started failing 4th grade. How do you fail 4th grade? I had never had trouble in school, this was nonsense. Sitting here now, I see that I lost the depth of myself somewhere in there. Everything I did was superficial, to make those around me happy.

Hmmm... Pardon me, I must stop for now. I'm having a profound moment. Leaving this here, please, don't allow yourself to become all in all superficial. Christ resides much deeper.

How does she do it? How does she smile... at me, at her family, teachers, "friends", the world? How can she face the world with so much joy that you just want to strangle the girl, especially when you're not a morning person and she is!?!?!?!?! I admire my almost teenage daughter for the tenacity that she wakes up with- to live each day to the fullest she knows how, determined to learn, to thrive, to succeed. She will talk to you, even if you ignore her. She will smile at you even when you scowl, and of course reply with "I love YOU!". She will help whether you want her to or not. And she will shadow you like none other.

She lives with pain, embarrassment, hearing loss, poor communication skills, cognitive delays, lack of fine and gross motor skills. She lives without talking much on world events, without friends and things to do with friends, without the excitement, the anticipation of all that one holds dear as a teen: driving, boyfriends, parties, dances. She lives with some hardcore parents and three little brothers.

What she sees... Jesus loves her, a Dad and "beautiful" Mom that love her. Three brothers who are "cool"(she's very proud of them). Looks forward to birthdays- doesn't matter whose, holidays, visits from family, school and days off of school. Food... always looks forward to food, visits to doctors, a trip to anywhere with anyone. Buy her anything and she's stoked. She rarely complains and constantly smiles.

Wanna know how this makes me feel? What's that feeling when someone cuts you off in traffic, dumps plans with you for someone else, walk in on someone talking about you? What did you say when you sat on hold for an hour only to have the operator hang up on you, received that ticket for doing 20 over the limit, dropped that 10 lb can of tomatoes on your toe? What did you say? How did you feel? Yep, that's about it. Probably not all that I feel and all that I want to say, but some of it.

All things aside... God works. He works powerfully. He works mightily. He holds Olivia closely.

With the depth of an M&M, I begin a blog journey. Frustrated with how superficial a certain community page makes me feel, I have decided to write in full feelings, thoughts, ideas. I do this because I need to. I need to stop being okay and to really be. Contrary to what others may want to hear or what they may think of me... if you have come here, it is for the raw. BEWARE. I can be, at times am, by my own nature, a very ugly person.