The Graveyard

We’re walking to the graveyard for the first time since my grandparents passed away. My feet are sweating, my hands are sweating. The lump in my throat is making me feel vulnerable; one hug and I might collapse. I’m looking and looking and looking for the graves. I can’t remember where they are.

Avalon is skipping a long through the graves; her dress stands out from all the gray.

I tell her, “Don’t step on the gravestones”. A long conversation ensues about why. She runs to the trail. She stops. “Mom, look!!!”

Lying on the unforgiving pavement is a Monarch butterfly. Her intricately swirled fairy wings are perfectly still. Avalon’s blue eyes are wide with fascination and shock. “Mom, why did she die?”  

On the hill there are two beautiful and ancient ladies.  I name them Ethel and Alice. Ethel is supporting Alice. Alice has silvery long hair. They pause at a grave, holding each other, smiling, laughing. I imagine what they are saying. I bet it starts with “remember when”…. They slowly shuffle together to another grave. They pause again. I imagine their tears on a journey, falling down through the patterns of wrinkles.   

I still can’t find the gravestones.

I look up to see the outlines of my mom and dad. I try to decide if this is a miracle or a consequence of living in a very small city. They point and shout to me, “Grandma and Grandpa are over there!”

Finally, we’ve made it to the hardest part. Avalon is unimpressed, but imaginative of Grandma and Grandpa’s life in heaven. The gray stones can’t tell us anything.   

Ethel and Alice have traveled back and forth from their two grave spots several times. It’s time to go. 

The Earthquake

Everything I heard from friends, relatives, and society before you were born is still true… You will disrupt my life. I’m not mature enough to parent. I’m not ready. I don’t know how agonizingly difficult this is going to be. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have enough money. A child deserves two parents with good jobs, health insurance, and a plan. If I screw parenting up & go party, all contact will be cut off. An unplanned child could have a miserable existence!!! I will be a working single mom and you will be in daycare alllll the time. Daycare might damage you!!!

One person said to me, “There is a plan.” Everybody else said, “I’m fearful, and you should be too.”

Baby we’ve made it through some of the hardest days, and some of the hardest days are yet to come. My little book of parenting advice that people wrote in at my baby shower no longer applies. “Don’t sweat the potty-training” (I did) and “sleep when the baby sleeps” (I didn’t!) and “Treasure every moment” (I tried!).

You’re four now, and you have disrupted my life in every possible way. You are nothing less than an earthquake. You make me wiser and stronger and better. I have poured out myself into you. You were always my destiny.

I’m still not enough. And that is where my strength comes from. 

It comes from some of the ones who were formerly fearful. It comes from some of the ones who are stepping into their destiny too.

(And daycare. Daycare is the reason you wrote your best friend’s name yesterday without looking at anything, just right out of your head. At age four). 

I love you. 

Why Asking for Help is Strong

In our culture asking for mental, emotional, material, or physical help is considered weak.

I believe the opposite…

Asking for help is the strongest thing you can do for yourself and your family.

It demonstrates courage, resilience, strength, and most importantly, HOPE.

The act of asking for help whispers, “I’m weak, but I’m still willing to try”.

It cries, “I can’t make it right now, so I’m choosing to trust you with my burdens”.
If that's not strength, I don't know what strength is.

In the last 5 years of my life I have worked really hard only to find that I am never enough. I’ve pulled it together for weeks and months at a time, only to crash and burn. I’ve been a devoted mom, only to hear a voice in my ear telling me that I should be stronger...that I should be much more...that what I’m doing is not valuable.

That is not the voice of truth...

One year during Finals Week, my friend Amanda asked to do my laundry. She returned my laundry basket with another basket filled with a week’s worth of food. I cried. I didn't ask for her to do that much, but I let her know I was struggling, and then I accepted her help even though it was hard for me. I've lost count at how many times my friend Hilary has come over & done the dishes for no reason other than that she saw the defeated expression on my face. There’s a bunch of people who just randomly drop off food at my house or do other things because I try to be honest about what I am struggling with. They can't fight my battles for me, but they can do one act of kindness that makes a huge difference.

I've met so many people who are afraid to ask for help. Sometimes they just need one person to show kindness to them, which will lead to them to feel supported, which will lead to them to the BRAVE act of asking help, which will lead to relief for them and life-long changes.

The one piece of advice I feel the most confident giving? ASK FOR HELP from a safe person or organization.

You are not weak; you are strong.

5 Years Awake

9:45 pm, Friday night, Winter 2011.

I look into the rearview mirror. I don’t even recognize the pair of eyes staring back at me.

I’m driving around in circles.

Congratulations, you are so high that you can’t remember where your boyfriend’s apartment is.

I pull over to call my boyfriend. It’s 10pm, & he’s already so drunk that he can’t even give me directions. We both laugh; it is a hollow moment in an empty companionship. We are so numb that we are powerful.

Back on the road…Don’t worry, I’ll find you!

 Suddenly there are lights behind me. A cop. One who I’ve spoken to before... “Have you been drinking?” “No, officer!” (Me? Drink and drive? Never!) “Well your turn signal is out, get it fixed!” He smiles.

 I faked my way through another conversation.

~

2 AM, Friday night, Winter 2016.

I look in the mirror. I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me. She is very alive; her eyes are the opposite of dull. She is also so very tired. Her puffy dark circles are atrocious. The extra pounds sit uncomfortably on the surface of her body like they want to jump off; the stretch marks & sags from growing her baby ensure she will never wear a two-piece swimsuit again.

The 2,000 word paper has been written. The child is safe & warm in bed. Tears slip down her face because bedtime was so hard. The fighting, the crying, the struggle to put on jammies. In 5 hours, her alarm will go off to begin another day.

The days feel like years long, but the years feel like a day…

And best of all there is peace & hope. Fullness in place of emptiness. Shade in the burning sun, a covering over shame, a fountain of water for thirst. Some of the chains were broken immediately, falling off quickly; some of them are cracking, they will fall off soon.

Life was given to me in every way. The pain that caused me to be dead in the first place is slowly shrinking. Victory has been promised to me. Now I live to tell about it.

“For the LORD your God is the one who goes with you to fight for you…” (Deut 20:4)

Little Ears

While we were downtown today, a curly, red-haired pre-teen fell backwards off his chair. Everyone at his table reacted loudly. After he got up to leave the table, his friend approached us said directly to me & my daugher: “If you were wondering, my red-haired friend is an alien”. 

My daughter looked at me with wide-eyes. She didn’t understand.

The boy laughed and walked away. My daughter stared after him. Her hair is constantly being brought into the spotlight by strangers on the street. She hears that she is red-haired at least 3 times a day.

My first reaction was anger.

There are so many things we “like” or participate in on Facebook. Or we just tolerate them, scrolling by with a smirk. Even though I know most of my friends, I’ve seen many memes or comments making fun of other races, social groups, body parts, etc. Online is not real life; it’s just harmless fun…..

Today a boy told my my 4-year-old daughter two things:
1. Be embarrassed of people who accidentally fall in public...Or, be embarrassed of other people.
2. Specifically, red-haired people are embarrassing, different and weird (or whatever alien means to him…).

It makes me really want to rethink the things that I laugh at. What is acceptable online (Hello to all the Ginger Memes) is NOT okay to tell a little kid in real life. Why do we get to like and laugh at things online that we would never say in real life? I am guilty of this as much as anyone else.

Thankfully today I can tell my girl that she’s beautiful for more than her physical appearance. Later in the day our 3-year-old friend Theo fell, and a 4-year-old stranger quickly and compassionately helped him up.

Little people know our attitude, concerns, dislikes. Little people learn the rules of what is appropriate to laugh at, and what’s not. Little people know who we like to spend time with.

Little ears hear your phone conversations, your whispers, your heart. Be careful.

My Constant One

I carried all 40 pounds of you for hours at the fair. I took you to the doctor when you were sick. I went to work for you, went to bed late and got up early for you. I spent hours in the bathroom with you, helping you bathe and re-potty training you. I cleaned up accidents. I folded laundry for you; I dropped you off and picked you up from two different daycares. I packed you special lunches; I went grocery shopping for things you will eat. I did paperwork for you. I cried sometimes because I was physically exhausted from taking care of you.

~

And in a moment of anger and emotion, because I wouldn't let you watch TV, you burst out, "Mom, I don't  want to be your daughter anymore". Emphatically. Repeatedly.

~

I laughed. Because I know that you don't mean that. Because I know that I'll hear that again. Because I love you so much I lay down my life for you every. single. day, whether I feel like it or not.

~

I've never seen a clearer picture of myself than tonight than in your angry, 4-year-old face, my sweet girl, while you tried to disown me. How many times have I told my Father, "I don't want to be your daughter anymore". I'm ashamed to say how many times. How many times I've shouted angry words at Him because of how I feel.

~

He gets it. He laughs: "Oh honey. I love you so".

~

He never changes. He loves me and cares for me every day. He is there on the bad days and good days.

~

And baby, I'll always be your mom.

Fair Magic

Taking Back Truth

It's that time of the year when the students swarm back into our town. It's easier to complain about them than to pray for them.

It's this time every year that I start thinking about it. I am concerned for their safety and the choices they make.

I had just turned 19, and it was his 27th birthday party. A friend of my good friend. I had arranged for someone to pick me up down the street, in one hour. Just going to drop by. Just one drink, and then leave.

My last memory that night was of him mixing me a drink, his face turned away from me.

I became conscious 4 or 5 hours later and found that I was being assaulted by him. I was not able to move or leave.

There are many details I could share, but I have found that reading other people's details can be harmful. I want to help others.

The most horrifying thought of all--to live in a body that I was formerly not in control of. The memories I could maybe live with, but what about the unknown? The unconscious hours?

This was a darker place than I could ever have imagined.

"Hey...what happened last night shouldn't have happened."

 His fingers said to me: "??? Nothing happened..." A simple answer, the perfect lie. Oh... I get it! I'm the crazy one here! I'll accept that answer.

 I laid in bed for 2 days, feeling sicker than I have ever been. My body was foreign to me. The back of my head was so sore. Little fingerprint bruises dotted my arms. I didn't understand. My friend explained, "It's because you fell and we had to lift you up." Oh, okay!

I stood in a room with 4 men and tried to say something was wrong. My "friend", and him, and two roommates. They were all so very angry at me. Why were they all so angry? I left in shame. They won. They were right. Of course they were right. Yes, and I am fine. I am fine.

Lies are so much easier to grab onto than the truth.. but something made my fingers slip.No matter how many times I tried to wash myself clean, I couldn't wash it away.

This is the part of my story that  I am willing to share in detail. Here are the words that I would go back and say to myself. I hope these words can help you, too.

1. It happened. You are not okay. You will not be okay for a very long time. You cannot be unaffected by this.

2. My dear, I believe you. And it was not your fault...

3. You did not deserve this, want this, ask for this, allow this, consent to this.

4. It will take 6 years for you to know in your heart and your head that it was not your fault. Do you know something? That is okay.

5. You will forgive yourself, and surprisingly, you will forgive him and the others and pray for them.

6. You will love and trust God. What? How can it be? You will be friends with God. You will feel Him around you. He will hold you in a way that you can't understand, but you will know that He is there. You will accept that He is FOR you.

I challenge you to take back the truth... it belongs to you. 

"He took her by the hand and said to her, "Talitha koum!" (which means 'Little girl, I say to you, get up!'"                                                                                                              (Mark 5:41)

News that Nobody Expected

"I am the news that nobody expected

I was never a part of your plans.

I'm the reason why life,

As you know it feels like,

It's slipping through your trembling hands." 

Today I heard Matthew West’s song Untold. Every line made me cry because it was so true for me carrying A. Although I went through the motions of trying to do the best thing for us, shame, embarrassment and hopelessness were my constant companions. The day that my brother and sister-in-law announced their own pregnancy, tears that should have been tears of joy poured out of my eyes because I felt that their baby was going to be more loved than mine.  

That story is just a tiny glimpse of many of the complicated thoughts a woman facing an unplanned pregnancy can have. 

My prayer is that for anyone who listens to this song will have hope for their future and their baby’s.

My prayer is our world becomes a place that empowers, supports, and encourages men and women who feel like their life is “slipping through their hands”. To walk alongside them.
To educate them on all of their options so that they can make a fully-informed choice.
To give them hope that their life is not over.
To be a solid, tangible presence so that they know they will not be alone.
To be prepared to help them raise their child, no matter what.
To love them unconditionally, no matter what.

Inside my belly, A was “God’s miracle in the working, proof that all things can work for the good”, and the best part was still coming! Thanks to the support of incredible, loving people, I was reminded constantly of that truth. And finally, when I saw her for the first time, I was able to understand how all things words for good.

"But when you hear my first cry, when you look in my eyes,

You’ll understand why

Why you brought me to life."

Imperfectly Perfect Christmas

I just realized that it’s our FIRST Christmas together in our very own apartment. It’s 3:45pm and we just finished Christmas decorating. We both had to apologize for yelling at each other and the entire house is in need of a day of cleaning. More importantly we talked about how Jesus was born, and A yelled with joy to be able to decorate together. Her favorite Christmas song is “Away in the Manger”.  I also discovered that we own approximately 4 ornaments which makes me laugh! I had to hang all of them with paperclips…. The rest of our decorations are from the ‘80’s… or Walmart…or just toys! A picked out the sparkly-est ones possible today, and her ornament of choice was a Christmas Barbie (she cried because she couldn’t lift up her dress to see if she was wearing clothes underneath. And because Barbie didn’t have a name so I named her Barbie Rose Christmas… that made her mad) The tree topper A picked is actually so gaudy and huge that I couldn’t take a picture, but it’s up there and I’m going to love it.

Life is so messy; loving other people is so freaking messy. Being loved unconditionally and being given every last thing we need by God and our entire community, as we have been given this year (AGAIN) has been unfathomable. Looking at our Nativity, set you can see it’s quite a rowdy collection. A few playmobil people, a porcelain angel from my sweet friend, and the original set that’s missing quite a few people (and somehow had an extra baby Jesus... and a random pig. In the picture Barbie and Mary and A are talking (as they should be).

Our Nativity set is exactly what I need to see. Through the beautiful undoing of my attempt to control our lives these past 4 years, and the acceptance of God’s kindness and love, I have realized more than ever that He loves to draw straight with crooked lines. I would never have arrived in this raw, vulnerable place of needing other people and needing God so very badly if I had designed my own perfect adventure. Instead I have scribbled and scribbled, and God has taken all the scribbles and put them into His giant beautiful story.

Merry (almost) Christmas! Let's start celebrating now!

(Having a child on my head at all times is normal)

Tears of Joy

           I haven’t wanted to say much of what has been happening in my life because it seemed wrong with my news feed blowing up with so much tragedy and pain. It has broken my heart to see the suffering and grief of other people close to me and in the rest of the world. But today is Thanksgiving, and I have to share.

It’s embarrassing to say there were times this semester when I came close to giving up, specifically in the matter of school. I came close to a few months of allowing depression and self-pity and of course just good old exhaustion to wear me down so far and almost win. I have never felt more overwhelmed in my life.

I am thankful today because there were so many people that stood with me during this time and will continue to stand with me even when they have to crawl down in the hole and drag me out.  

                                     

-Thank you to the kind person who because of their belief in God saw fit to provide Avalon and I with brand-new snow tires and then give more money to me than anyone ever has before. I am speechless and still cry when I think about it.

-Thank you to my coworkers who have daily carried my burdens in more ways than I can count.

-Thank you to my friends who have given premade dinners to us and overwhelmed me with your love.

-Thank you to my Maggie, who has taken A several times overnight and provided me with actual sanity.

-Thank you to my big brother who has never given up on me and thinks I am smart— For coming over even when he’s exhausted and helping me with homework problems.

-Thank you to my mom, dad, and sister-in-law for providing such love and care for A and me that A begs me to go back to your house.

-Thank you to the person who has provided the most beautiful apology I have ever heard in my life. I forgive you with my whole heart.

-Thank you to my new family who have always found ways to love us from across a distance.  I can’t wait to see you again/meet you.

                                       

-Thank you to all of you, you know who you are, who have listened to me rant in person and over text and listened and allowed me to “cry ugly” in front of you. Even the smallest phrase of encouragement has helped. There’s too many of you to list. I love you.

-Thank you God for being my best friend, my Father, my comforter, my hero. You have been the greatest Friend of all. You are the reason I live. You have completely wiped away my sins and the massive debt I could never repay with the mercy of the gift of Your Son. You have made sure that I never forget how much you love me. You have answered every prayer, You have written my name on Your hand, and You have bottled my tears. And I’m only just beginning to know You...

                                                 

-Thank you to my little daughter. You are the one thing I never knew I needed. You have saved my spiritual and physical life more times than I can count. 

                                                

Faith

"When God told Abraham, who was a hundred at the time, that at the age of ninety his wife, Sarah, was finally going to have a baby, Abraham came close to knocking himself out—'fell on his face and laughed,' as Genesis puts it (17:17). In another version of the story (18:8ff.), Sarah is hiding behind the door eavesdropping, and here it's Sarah herself who nearly splits a gut—although when God asks her about it afterward, she denies it. 'No, but you did laugh,' God says, thus having the last word as well as the first. God doesn't seem to hold their outbursts against them, however. On the contrary, God tells them the baby's going to be a boy and they are to name him Isaac. Isaac in Hebrew means "laughter."

Why did the two old crocks laugh? They laughed because they knew only a fool would believe that a woman with one foot in the grave was soon going to have her other foot in the maternity ward. They laughed because God expected them to believe it anyway. They laughed because God seemed to believe it. They laughed because they half believed it themselves. They laughed because laughing felt better than crying. They laughed because if by some crazy chance it just happened to come true, they would really have something to laugh about, and in the meanwhile it helped keep them going.

Faith is 'the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen,' says the Letter to the Hebrews (11:1). Faith is laughter at the promise of a child called Laughter."

Frederick Buechner, from Wishful Thinking: a Seeker's ABC

http://frederickbuechner.com/content/faith

Letters to my Daughter Part One

            

           A, I want you to see yourself now, the way I see you on our best days. You’re sitting in the backseat, holding a piece of wadded up gum-wrapper, a leaf, an Elsa Barbie doll, a My Little Pony, an arm of a Potato head doll, or even just your own wiggling fingers, and you’re talking to them like they are your both your closest confidant and naughtiest child. “Do you know who dat is? Dat’s my mom! Dat’s Towie. You may NOT have a tweat befo’ bedtime. You dit a spankin! Dat’s naughty! Do you know we dwiving someweaw? We doing to daytair.” A, I just wish I could describe to you your voice right now. It’s magic and music. It’s tinkling and bubbly and silly.

           Your minuscule, chubby pink hands are perfection. I reach back when I’m driving and just hold on for dear life, because when I blink you grow a little bit— the car seat is getting smaller and smaller, you've learned a new trick, you’re putting on your shoes now, you’ve figured out how to floss your own teeth, you’re not scared of the dark as much as you used to be, you walk in to preschool without any tears, you're fearlessly jumping off furniture and swimming in the bath like a fish. You walk with a purpose, flouncing your tutus, proud of your flashing Frozen shoes or your clicking red cowgirl boots. More than anything you are proud of when you make a choice, and I do not. I try to remember to offer as many choices as I can.  

            I read somewhere that a chemical released in a mother’s brain makes it nearly impossible to stop kissing her baby’s face, that her baby just “smells” delicious. Weird, right? I’ll be the first to say, I definitely still have that... I kiss your forehead and your little nose and the top of your head. For some reason you are really ticklish on the top of your head, especially at bedtime when it’s the last tactic you have to keep me in the room. You thrash and wiggle through your Frozen blanket screaming with laughter. “Stop mom stop!” Then, “Mo! Mo mom! Teekle me adain!”

           You have a LAUGH. This laugh is something I find out about every day. Your laugh is ever-multiplying. You could write the Book on Laughs. So there’s the tinkling-brook, high-pitched laugh, typically utilized when you make a discovery in a book you are reading to yourself, like, “Oh Mom, isn’t that just HILARIOUS and RIDICULOUS?”                                                                                                            

            Then there’s what I call the Including Laugh; this is the laugh used for making anyone nearby feel included into your circle of friends or your personal bubble, accompanied by friendly body language and wide-open eyes. It is the toddler call, an enticing invitation for companionship and bonding: “Come laugh with me over this and we can be friends”. This is followed by the “Can you even believe we just experienced that together? My GOODNESS...It is so good to be alive right now!” Laugh. There is the out-of-control Tickling Laugh, usually open-mouthed and with some amount of drooling. There’s also the mischievous laugh, which reminds me of a sneaky elf. “Hehehe” you go, right before you poke someone in the ribs or grab someone’s belongings, and run with hopes of being chased, tackled, and loved.

                Another laugh, which is a show-stopper for family, friends, and strangers alike, is the Belly Laugh.  If Scrooge were around today, his icicle-ridden heart would be warmed instantly upon hearing this. This laugh could make anyone believe in Christmas or miracles or God. It is the warmest, purest joy. It comes out a lot when you are overtired and something really funny happened in a book or a movie, something beyond hilarious in Toddler World. It starts out with this quiet chortling that rises in volume and pitch into full-out howling with laughter and shortage of breath.

               You get so glowing, bright-pink mad sometimes, just recently becoming a threenager possessing unmatched wisdom. And though she be but little, she is fierce, I whisper to myself in shock (along with my “Help” prayer I learned from Anne Lamott.  Your rage is definitely not cute, but the passion your tiny face exhibits cheers me on. Why? Because I need to be awake in every way-- to keep thinking, moving, breathing, trusting God—not so I can tell you to be quiet, but so I can guide you into your future. It’s not a sin for you to be angry. I’m glad you are angry and that I’m a safe person for you to yell no at. I tell you that anger is okay, yelling no at Mommy is not. I never know what gets in between your perfectly shaped elfin-princess ears and through the mass of tangled Merida-Shirley Temple-Annie curls, but a few weeks ago you said, “Mom, mom, mom. Even when we aw mad at Dod, He ‘till yuv us!” When I try to pray for you, you always emphatically say, “NO, Dod does not yuv me, but I yuv Dod sooooo much.” 

                 A, I’m not scared anymore of raising you, but I am scared of how it is raising ME to raise you. I have watched you come into the world. I have spent hours upon hours praying and thinking about what is best for your future. It’s funny that since I’ve been able to move on from fear about your future as a child, teenager, and functioning adult, I have been attacked with fears about everything else. My fear of failure is sitting on my shoulders; it is a burden so heavy that it feels like a house, and I cannot breathe. I have tried and tried to get rid of it on my own, but I can’t. I know... I know down to my bones and in my crumbly, fearful, tired soul that you are what God sent me to help me keep fighting.

Like Peter, I said, “Master, if it’s really you, call me to come to you on the water.” 

Father, Prove to me that you are real. Prove to me that I am worth saving.   

And God said, “Come to me, my love”.

So I thought about it for minutes that felt like hours, and then I closed my eyes and made myself jump. The dizzying fall, the sensation of knowing it’s too late to go back, the sudden arrival…

“Peter walked on the water to Jesus. But when Peter looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and started to sink. He cried, 'Master, save me!'"

Suddenly, I’m sinking, and His hand reaches out. 

The story takes my breath away, because in the worst moments of my life, I have found that hand… Far more than coincidence, today I was praying and I felt and held that hand again. 
Come on, courage, dear heart. Get up.

My friend took this one of me on a tired morning. This cracks me up; it is how life feels on a daily basis. 

A loves to "help" me put on makeup

This is one of my favorite pictures. It is so real. Bathtime is an act of love. It is usually not fun and games for us. And the tummy pouch is in plain sight. This is motherhood. 

Tooth-brushing. 

All pictures taken by NaphtaliKate Photography. 

All scripture taken from Matthew 14, The Message. 

Dayna Gives Another Kick to Cancer's Butt - Louisiana Trip, Part 2

There are so many emotions and memories tumbling around from the rest of our trip. I hope you can see what I saw. I’m trying not to write a novel, but share a tiny piece of the unspeakable joy.

Dear friends, I need to ask you to hear something before you go on, something that is really important. The same day as my last post, I had a conversation with Dayna’s mother Dori. She has poured out everything she has, and more. Dori told me that some friends have asked her why she doesn’t hate God for what is happening. But Dori looked at me, with this intense faith-light in her eyes, and she said that although she has been a believer her whole life, right now, in this messy, seemingly hopeless place, she has never loved Jesus more. She said, "We are not responsible for the outcome; we are responsible for the faith we exhibit on the journey." This is a powerful miracle in itself, another miracle that makes me thankful that I could go on this trip.

When I specifically asked her, Dori told me that funds for Dayna’s treatments are running low. I’m asking you to consider praying and helping Dayna with funds so that the tumor will keep shrinking. It has already shrunk 40%, something unheard of for Stage IV Glioblastoma Multiforme, and she is far beyond the 4-12 months the doctors gave her to live.

I sat down in the hotel lobby with rays of the best Louisiana sunshine ever streaking through on to me. Finally after a few hours of schoolwork, it was time to get ready! I opened the hotel room door and saw Dayna in a dress with her hair and makeup done. She was so tired, but was enduring the photographer’s requests for more smiles, relaxation of the stern Dayna eyebrows, and an open-mouthed laugh-smile (the completion of this feat thrilled the photographer to no end; apparently this request is not always met with such talent and enthusiasm). Then it was time to don another brilliant and colorful dress her mom had bought for her, with, of course, matching jewelry. It was fun to watch all the fuss being made over her; we all knew that Dayna must look beautiful and feel beautiful to her core. And she truly looked like a queen. 

We drove to The Healing Place church where the single moms’ group is located that Jennifer Maggio originally founded, starting out as a small group and growing to many, many single moms!! Upon opening the door, instantly my eyes began to leak (just allergies, of course). I was immediately enveloped into a giant, warm hug by someone kind who then handed me a card and money, thanking me for nominating Dayna.

 I don’t believe that anyone has it easy in this life on earth. I believe that married moms and single moms both have nearly-impossible mountains to climb; we both need God or we just won’t make it. But I do believe that ministry to single moms is overlooked in many faith-based communities, and the biggest tragedy of all is that their children are forgotten. (Just google children of single mother statistics; it’s not a bright outlook). This is what Satan wants.

 Here, through The Life of a Single Mom ministries, they are connected with solutions and resources for financial, parenting, and health problems, and then they are given a support group to help them go through that. Most of all they can learn about God, and begin to HOPE again.

Then the music began. I don’t remember what it was, I just remember feeling overwhelmed that so many seats were filled with single moms of every race, age, and background. I looked around and watched their hands lifted and their eyes shut tight, singing as loudly as possible to God, their friend, their helper, their Savior. Allergic reactions ensued and I found my face wet again.

Dori and I enjoying this sweet time

Finally it was time. Dori, Dayna, and I all held hands tightly, and laughed and wept as we heard these words while a slideshow from Dayna’s beautiful life with Maddie and her family was played.

“Before I speak a word let me hear Your voice

And in the midst of pain let me feel Your joy

I want to know you, I want to find you

In every season, in every moment..

I want to seek you first…”

(Lauren Daigle- First)

They couldn't have picked a better song to express Dayna's heart. When it was over Dayna went up and accepted her award. She makes fun of herself when she tells the story because she didn’t prepare at all; she said “We’ve got God, so we've got this single mom thing, you guys”, and somewhere in there she said loudly and proudly that she was going to kick cancer’s BUTT (A true Dayna statement if I’ve ever heard one, can you hear her voice?). Her face had been getting more radiant since we first left for LA, and it showed; she was there to give God's hope to every mom in the crowd. 

Beautiful, radiating Dayna

It is easy for me to watch my friend from the distance of six hours away, and feel thankful and happy that she is “doing so well” according to Facebook and a few texts I get from her. Dayna’s sickness is not like one of those movie-star cancer scenes. She is living, she is flourishing, she is kicking cancer’s butt in her own words. Here’s the thing, though (to borrow another one of her phrases): This is NOT normal. This is God. This is hope. This is Dayna living out the following verse:

“Your eyes are windows into your body. If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light. If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust, your body is a dank cellar. If you pull the blinds on your windows, what a dark life you will have!” (Matt. 6:22-23, MSG)

Dayna has ripped off the blinds on her windows and allowed the Light of Jesus to keep her eyes wide open in wonder and belief. She is actively and bravely fighting, breathing, and seeing: she is seeing God move.  The reason she is able to keep walking is because she can receive naturopathic treatment along with the chemo and because she is surrounded by a kick-ass group of supporters, friends, and family. In order for her to keep receiving treatments that allow her to function, flourish, and be an incredible, patient, loving, understanding mother to Maddie, she needs us. She needs finances. I am hoping that these posts communicate God's truth, and a funny and marvelous adventure to the readers, but I am also shamelessly asking for donations for my friend. She never complains, but it is really hard to watch her experience the icky, debilitating, sad symptoms of chemo and cancer. Honestly, on this trip I promised God that I would do anything that I could do to help her. 

Find out how you can help Dayna and Maddie at Hope 4 Dayna.

Until next time, friends! 

Dayna and Kallie Go To Louisiana! ~Trip Update, Part One~

For those of you don’t know, earlier this summer I nominated my sweet Dayna friend for National Single Mom of the Year. Dayna has stage IV glioblastoma multiforme (brain cancer). It’s not the fact that was she was given this diagnosis that makes her an incredible person. It’s the fact that she gets up every day and FIGHTS it, holding on to her Heavenly Dad’s hand, walking with Him, and raising her daughter to know Him and believe in Him. Dayna is the strongest girl I’ve ever met. I get to brag about her because she’s not here right now; she’s getting a facial and massage somewhere in Baton Rouge which makes me SO happy!

Her agenda today includes spa time, a shopping spree, hair, make-up, and a photo shoot. Tonight is a dinner and awards ceremony where she will be giving a little speech. More about today later. J The first part of our journey has been kind of hilarious. I arrived at Dayna’s at 11 PM after 6 hours of driving; she woke up, we talked, crawled into bed, and fell asleep till our alarm went off at 3 AM! We woke up with bleary eyes and excited hearts, and on our way to the airport wished we had made coffee! We arrived at the airport but because Dayna had needles and prescriptions with her, she had to be detained so security could make sure she was okay to travel. Throughout this, she was incredibly kind and gracious and of course, made a new friend in the security guard.

We had two different seats and before the trip and I had been praying that God would make it possible for us to sit together. I honestly prayed that I wouldn’t have to ask anyone to switch seats, that it would somehow just happen on its own (I was so tired, haha). I sat down and IMMEDIATELY the lady next to me looks up and goes, “Is that your friend Dayna up a few rows? I just made friends with her in line! Do you want to switch seats?” Just in this little moment I see how God cares so much about us and is watching over this entire trip!

We finally got on our flight and I promptly fell asleep for almost the entire flight. It is hard for Dayna to sleep without help due to the cancer treatment she is taking, so instead of sleeping she drank 5 cups of horrible airplane coffee and made friends with literally everyone in the surrounding area, and continued to do so, in all three airports and two flights. She is a LIGHT wherever she goes. She can’t help but talking about Jesus and what he has done in her life to the many people God puts around her. More on that later.

We arrived in Houston, Texas and missed our flight! God went before us though, and we were immediately able to get on another flight on a very tiny plane! I wish I could explain how kind and wonderful and hilarious the German flight attendant was, but I’ll have to ask Dayna how to best describe him. This time Dayna and I weren’t sitting near each other but I could hear her happy laugh periodically as she made friends and swapped stories with someone else.

Throughout all our airport times we have both been exhausted, especially Dayna, but so full of laughter. We simply cannot stop laughing, and just thanking God for what He has done in her life (and mine!). When we arrived at the Baton Rouge Louisiana airport I almost started sobbing but had to minimize it to a few tears because waiting to see Dayna was the most kind, wonderful, excited group of ladies from the organization The Life of a Single Mom, with signs and balloons and gifts and one of Dayna’s many gifts, a $500 check! We were hugged repeatedly by each of them. They gave Dayna her INCREDIBLE itinerary, and overwhelmed her with love.

We got to her luxurious hotel room at the Hyatt Hotel and then we were both taken to dinner at Ralph and Kakoo’s (Idaho/Washington friends, you've gotta check this out!) It was an incredible experience tasting the variety of Southern foods. 

At this point I have to stop and share that this was so special to me because of SOMEONE WE WERE HAVING DINNER WITH!!!! Two years ago I was searching the internet for single mom books. There wasn’t much to choose from. One book, Overwhelmed: The Life of a Single Mom by Jennifer Barnes Maggio, looked promising. To summarize a long process, I read it and my life was changed forever! By the way, I later ended up liking Jennifer’s Facebook page, The Life of a Single Mom and then one day they posted something about nominating a single mom for National Single Mom of the Year, and the rest is history….

ANYWAYS, to summarize, we got to have dinner with Jennifer Barnes Maggio, the founder of the Life of the Single Mom, and the lovely vice president, Suzanne (I don't know her full name yet but she is so wonderful!) I got to talk to Jennifer and tell her how much her book meant to me and hear about her work, something that I am extremely passionate about and something I'm interested in pursuing in the future (she began an incredible ministry to single moms which God has blessed so much!). 

We tried hushpuppies for the first time, and the most amazing crab bisque and gumbo and ate until we were stuffed. Suzanne told us we shouldn’t bring our gallons of leftover food home because we are going to get even more food tomorrow, but we couldn’t imagine leaving without it so we brought it all home! Both Dayna and I had an amazing sleep in a king-sized bed after enjoying the company of her sweet, gorgeous mama Dori who had arrived on a flight later! Sweet Dayna woke me up by bringing me breakfast in bed, and we all sat around in our pjs and talked until Dayna was picked up . I am feeling so refreshed and thankful to be here!

One thing that has really struck me especially on this trip is that God really loves His single moms, no matter how we arrived on our journey as a single mom or what our mistakes and failures are, He is FAITHFUL to each of us, and faithful to love us and our children. Many of the workers at the Life of a Single Mom were single moms themselves in the past, and as a result they have this heart for those who don’t have the support and love that they need. They understand that single moms don’t need bible verses shoved down their throats, they need someone to walk beside them, support them, and be Jesus to them! They need patience, acceptance, and resources..The rest can follow after that crucial, unconditional display of love. I have been beyond LOVED throughout my entire single mom journey, but I know far too many who haven’t been. It has blessed me so much to know this ministry exists!

"We are not responsible for the outcome, we are responsible for the faith we exhibit on the journey."
 -Dori, Dayna's mom

To find out more of the Life of a Single Mom ministry, go to their website here.

To find out more about Dayna's incredible story and how you can help Dayna continue her treatments (because of which, she says she is far less exhausted and far more healthy than most cancer patients), go to the link above.