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.