Dove Eyes

Summer

2011-03-31T10:12:00.000-07:00

My heart is aching for summer, especially the summers when I was 7,8 and 9.

My dad would load up our Volvo Station Wagon (and then later our Ford Windstar), and we would drive through Dallas, Texarkana, Arkadelphia, Little Rock...and FINALLY we would make it to Memphis. My parents had activity binders for us. There was a map in the pocket that's just inside the binder when you open it. Dad had highlighted the route we would take, and every time we stopped we would get out our maps and circle the city/town/part of the highway where we stopped. I loved this. Thinking about it now it doesn't make a lot of sense why a seven-year-old girl would enjoy this so much, but I adored circling those places. Adding another place where I'd been. Marking it on a map. It was so OFFICIAL. It was so, yes I've been here without defacing public property.

When we finally made it to Grandmother's there were shouts of jubilant joy. Seriously. You have not heard jubilant joy until you've finished your 10 hour car journey with a 5 year old annoying little brother and a 2 year old crying baby sister. JOY.

That night we would go see Grandmommy and Poppa Eoff, my great-grandparents. Grandmommy Eoff would feed us Cheez-Its and Pepsi and encourage me to eat tons because that's what the teenagers eat. So I did. They had bags of strawberry candy, you know the kind that's hard with the oozy strawberry center. I'm not sure why they always had giant paper bags filled with them, but they always did, that and bubble gum.

Poppa Eoff would regale us with stories...and about 5 minutes into it no one really knew what he was talking about, but I listened anyway, because I liked hearing the sound of his voice. And no matter what, there was always a quiz at the end. He would point to something and ask me what it was and to tell him the story about it, just to make sure I was listening.

At this point my brother, sister and I were the only grandkids. The other ones hadn't come along yet. So when my second cousins Chad and Kacy came over to Grandmommy and Poppa Eoff's house it was seriously fun. We would dance in the back of Poppa's truck and sing Rockin' Robin. They called Grandmommy Eoff by a different name, Monnie. One summer I spent so much time around them I began calling her that too, even though it felt weird.

One particular night was magic. That's the only way to describe it. It wasn't magical. It was just MAGIC. Gavin, Chad, Kacy and I were running around in Grandmommy and Poppa Eoff's backyard with mason jars in the twilight hours of the summer desperately trying to catch lightning bugs. Earlier that day Grandmother had told me a story of how she and my Aunt Dot would catch lightning bugs and then take the part of the bug that lights up and put it on her finger like a ring so it glowed. I remember being slightly disturbed by this because it meant she was killing them.

It smelled like rain. The grass was soft under my feet, and we were running around...dancing. I was dancing like the lightning bugs. Gavin and I pretended to be lightning bugs, flitting about, dancing, lighting up the night air like stars.

What are some of your favorite summer memories?

Worst. Blogger. Ever.

2011-03-24T09:50:00.000-07:00

Am I the worst blogger ever? Probably. Truth is, I embarked on a side project, and as side projects go, this was a pretty funny one. I blogged about online dating... but I didn't post the blog on my facebook, twitter or anywhere else because I didn't want anyone to know it was me. Ridiculous. It was funny, and a good idea. I fancied myself the Julie from "Julie and Julia" of the online dating world.

Then I met a boy I actually liked. At church. And now, well, he's my boyfriend and so the blog has stopped. Even though I didn't get to all of the ridiculous stories. Especially the one about the guy who talked about himself in the third person, and then made me pay for his sushi. It was an interesting evening to say the least.

So what has my life been lately? Lately life has been...

sunshine. happiness. frozen yogurt. hugs. kisses. laughter. some dancing. weddings. best friends. shorts. skirts. music. love. new things. school things. stepping out of comfort zones. Jesus. loads of Jesus.

So. I'm going back to school this summer. Trying to get all of my prereqs done so I can apply to nursing school sooner rather than later. Should be an interesting ride. I promise I'll do better about writing now. We've heard that before. I know I know. For realz this time, yo.

I'll leave you with the song I haven't been able to get out of my head for....oh...a year?

Peace. Love. Herrington.

Open Letter to my Future Husband

2010-11-03T16:14:00.000-07:00

Dear Future Husband,

Dude. Sup? I talk funny. I hope you like that about me. I have a tendency to talk like a surfer from California half of the time, and a yankee the other half. All I know is, that is a bit unusual for a girl who was born and raised in Texas.

Future Husband- may I call you Future Husband? Bear with me. You're going to have to be patient with me. I'm stubborn as the day is long, and I can argue with a brick wall if it looks at me the wrong way....and win. I try to learn to be more patient... have God teach me... I think He likes to make me wait for things to teach me patience. I always end up stomping my foot on the ground and crossing my arms. So If I stomp while simultaneously crossing-- just give me a hug and tell me it will be okay.

What else, you ask? Let's do volunteer work together. No, not like scooping up animal poop... but founding an organization where we can give people blankets, hats, gloves and coats during the winter. We can serve them hot chocolate too...or coffee. And we can go around handing out water to the homeless in the summer. Water and a banana, because bananas are delicious. We can tell them about Jesus. Love them like Jesus.

Let's wash feet. Give high fives. Blow kisses. Make music.

Love,
Anna

P.S.
I hate ants... so if I see one and scream, please kill it. They are too organized...marching in their lines and such...

Meditation

2010-09-17T05:10:00.000-07:00

Guard your heart. That's the mantra they tell me. Over and over. Guard your heart. What does that mean? Guard your emotions? Guard your wants/needs/wishes/desires? Don't let anyone in lest they hurt you! Guard your heart. I think that's the worldly definition of it.

I was reading in Philippians last night. Philippians 4, you know that verse, the one that everyone's always quoting about anxiety? Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. (Phil 4:6). That's a verse that I turn to over and over to help comfort me in times when I don't know what to do anymore. When my heart is pounding in my chest. When my palms are sweaty, and all I need is a hug. Do not be anxious about anything...thanksgiving...present your requests to God. What I don't think I ever stopped to do was meditate on the verse that follows that, verse 7. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

How 'bout them apples? Guess what ladies? Gents? We don't have to. God does it for us. That first part, verse 6 present Present your requests to God! Have faith and rejoice (thanksgiving) in what He will do, and He'll give you that peace that you long for so much. He'll guard your heart (whatever that means).

I think so often I want things too much. I tend to make an idol of the things that I want instead of focusing on Jesus and allowing Him to bless me with the things that I need.

Anyway, just my meditation from last night/this morning. I got to work this morning at 6:15 to let the AC people in to fix our unit at 6:30, it's now 7:15ish and they still aren't here. I'm making an executive decision to lock up and peace out.

Real World, welcome to my life.

2010-08-26T10:14:00.000-07:00

Lately life has been...

not enough sleep. ukuleles. oldies music. coffee, a lot of coffee. Jesus. serious amounts of Jesus. new friends. old friends. excitement. anticipation. hunger for something more. something bigger, something better. more life.

Life is weird. You know? I think I have my life all figured out, and then something changes. It kind of makes me feel like a "new kid." I'm at this point. Some sort of precipice. I want to jump off. I want to live by faith. But I have these stupid, messed up, broken, human eyes. I keep trying to see where I'm going. Find my way. Watch out for that stick, that rock, that stumbling block. God keeps rushing into my life. Bigger, better, faster, stronger. I'm letting go of myself, little by little, and he's rushing in.
It makes me want to do things like... quit my job and be with people who need to see Jesus. Live with them. Help them. Love them. Wash feet. Only problem is...I have to work out how to do this in the real world.

Confusing. How do you live in the real world?

Galveston

2010-08-12T10:37:00.000-07:00

Cheerio! I'm back from Galveston. I've actually been back since Sunday evening, but I've been trying to process this past week so that I could adequately share what went on there with you guys. I'm still not sure I'll be able to put what happened inside my heart into words, but I'm going to try. I never was much of a writer...that's why I edit.

I'm not going to give you a play by play of what we did in Galveston. Instead I want to tell you about the people I met there. Let's start off with Tim and Jenn.

Tim is the pastor of Primera Iglesia Bautista a bilingual church in Galveston. I cannot begin to express to you how my heart is overwhelmed by these people, overwhelmed with joy and grief. These guys are unbelievable. Tim has brain cancer and is currently undergoing chemotherapy after having surgery earlier this year. Jenn is 8 months pregnant and has gone back to work as a physical therapist so that she and Tim can have health insurance. Oh, and did I mention they don't speak Spanish? They're originally from (I think) Pennsylvania and felt God calling them to move down to Galveston after Hurricane Ike and work with Disaster Relief to help the people of Galveston rebuild their lives. This couple is amazing. You can see the love of God shining through their faces. When I heard about what all they had been through before even meeting them I thought, how can they bear it? After meeting them...they both have inspired me, encouraged me to be more Christ-like. How blessed I am to have met them. They are those people that once you meet them, you realize your life will never be the same.

I helped out with the VBS that we had going on for the kids, and there was one girl there that just...touched my heart. Her name is Lauren, and she's 10. Lauren lives with her grandmother and her common-law husband, mother, and two younger sisters. Lauren's mother is currently going through a custody battle with her ex-husband for custody of the children. While I was helping Lauren make the salvation bracelet, we were talking about what each bead meant (black-sin, red-Jesus's blood when he died on the cross, white- he washed our sins white as snow, etc.). Lauren already knew what the beads meant. When I asked her about it she explained to me that she went to church with her grandmother every Sunday. When my relief came for lunch, I went to get some food and ended up sitting with Lauren and her grandmother, Maria. It became pretty apparent to me that they didn't have enough food to eat.

Lauren ate two hot dogs and halfway through her second bowl of rice she looked at Maria, and said that she wanted to save it for her mother to eat because she was worried she hadn't eaten anything that day. Maria told her to go ahead and eat it, that her mother would want her to. Lauren refused. I told her not to worry about it and got another bowl of rice for her mother. After this Lauren went to play and I got a chance to talk with her Maria alone. I told her how great it was to meet Lauren, and that I could tell what a special girl she is. Maria told me that Lauren is always worried about her mother. Her mother apparently has been very "sick" for a long time, and so Lauren has been taking care of her younger sisters when her mother can't, and Maria is working.

I could tell that more than anything else, Maria needed someone to listen to her. I asked appropriate questions when the conversation lulled, but I didn't say more than probably 10 words in about the space of an hour. If you know me, you know how big of a deal that is. Maria is so sassy, it's hilarious. She was telling me all about the people of Galveston, and how there are still so many homes that need to be rebuilt. She told me about how everyone as left, and there are no jobs for anyone. She said her common-law spouse is always cooking up all of their food and giving it away, so half of the time they don't have enough food to eat because he has fed the entire neighborhood before feeding them.

Lauren came back over at this point to get some water, and Maria had her sit down and told me to tell her why prayer is important because apparently Lauren doesn't listen to Maria when she talks about prayer, and Lauren retorted with, "that's because your prayers are so long and boring!" These ladies both had quite a bit of spunk and sass to them :-). Lauren was wearing one of those necklaces that are shaped like half a heart that said BEST on it. I asked her about the person that had the other half. And what their relationship was like. We talked about what it meant to be a best friend. Then I asked her how would she like it if she walked next to her best friend all the time, hung out with her, went places with her, but her best friend never said a word to her. Never even said hello. Well of course Lauren told me she wouldn't like that, and that they probably wouldn't even be best friends anymore. I told her that's what it's like when we don't pray to God. He's supposed to be our best friend, and he's ALWAYS there. So imagine what it's like for Him when we don't talk to him for days at a time! She seemed to understand, a light sort of clicked on in her head. That was really neat to see.

My heart was in a very spiritual place in Galveston. I don't know if that makes sense. I feel like I grew so much by serving these people. By meeting Tim, Jenn and the ladies of Primera Iglesia Bautista, by serving alongside my family-- my faith was strengthened. Since we've gotten back I've been an emotional wreck. I miss being sweaty and tired all the time. I miss talking about Jesus all the time. I miss helping other people. I almost feel guilty for being here, and for having as much as I have. My heart hurts for the people of Galveston. I'm not sure exactly where that leaves me...but I guess it's going to take some prayer to find out :-).

Stop. Collaborate. and Listen.

2010-08-04T10:26:00.000-07:00

Why hello August, nice to see you again.

Blue fingernail polish, too many bracelets, coffee, laughter, late night walks, long talks, frozen yogurt, singing, laughing, ukuleles, family, friends, love, Jesus, mercy, serving, stretching, growing, learning.

This is what my life has been lately. BLESSED. Makarios. Full. Abundant. Joyous.

This weekend a group from GHBC is going to Galveston to serve. I'm the most excited about the small VBS we'll be doing with the kids and meeting people. Forming relationships. Being Jesus to the community. I want to wash feet, organize clothes, give hugs, love others. Most of all I want to love others.

I CRAVE conversation with those I respect, love and find interesting. I want to soak up everything they have to say, then I want to ask a million questions. The problem is I often find myself so excited by what they say, that I want to connect with them, and in doing so I share my own situation/problem/passion. Sometimes I wish I could just stop. Stop spinning, stop twirling, stop getting so excited and just l i s t e n.

So, I'll be writing as I learn to listen. I hope you have the time to read it :-)

Hey Mikey!

2009-10-25T22:15:00.000-07:00

Dear Michael Bublé,

I used to think you were just another Harry Connick Jr. (he's gross). But as I've listened to your songs over the years, I've found that that's not true...you're far better. Your song "Home" made me love you. See, my life sorta sucked at that point, but that song made me feel hopeful. Your voice brought comfort to my heart.

I saw you had a new album out. I bought it tonight...and after listening to it, I've gotta tell you...it's good. But you knew that. So, Mike...thanks for the great music. Keep it up. It's great. And...if you get bored, give me a call. I'll make you work, so we can work to work it out. Promise.

-Anna
p.s.
I like the scruff.

Hmmm

2009-09-22T14:05:00.000-07:00

So... I enjoy blogging. Obviously. That's why I have a blog. Here's the problem. I dream up wonderful blog posts on my way to work: today I was going to talk about the wonder of fall.

Today is the first day of fall, and I had a toffee-nut latte while listening to Matt Kearney on my way to work. What a wonderful way to start the season...something like that.

I couldn't seem to get past the opening. What else could I write about? So, dear readers, I am coming to you. What do you want me to post about? I know there are many lurkers out there who never comment. Please take a moment and comment, let me know what you want to read-- or what sort of blogs do you like, the day to day entries, or something a little more profound?

So...comment. And. Thanks.

Totes Embarassing

2009-09-15T11:39:00.001-07:00

Let me set the scene for you:
Third grade, Bethesda Christian School, Mrs. Sandy's class.
I had written and acrostic poem about the boy I liked, Nathan Phillips.

N-nice

A-amazing

T-terrific

H-handsome

A-awesome

N-neat

Okay, so I don't know if that's exactly what it said, but it was something along those lines. Anyway, I wrote it at home in my spiral. Also, it should be mentioned that I signed my name to it, in my autograph signature handwriting.

So, at nine years old, I had my first real crush on a boy. He had a buzz cut and didn't own a television. I remember thinking he was so cute. I mean, I seriously might have died if he knew how cute I thought he was. Being the excruciatingly private, but hopeless romantic, I decided I needed to get rid of that poem, lest someone see it in my binder, namely, Caleb. Caleb was the thorn in my pale-freckled side. Upon years of reflection, I've come to realize it was Caleb who had a crush on me. Although he made that year miserable for me. He was always pulling my hair (seriously, at nine, children should be over that), and teasing me for having so many freckles.

I was so quiet then, that I never retorted back. I didn't point out his gangly frame or buck teeth. Although I'm pretty sure everyone at that age had a gangly frame and buck teeth. None of us had grown into our bodies yet, and elbows and knees began to jut out awkwardly in all directions.

Anyway, it was my brilliant idea to throw away this poem in the trash in our classroom. I crumbled it up, tossed it in, and thought nothing of it.

Lunch was brutal.

Four or five boys came up to me at lunch and asked me if I liked Nathan. "Ummmm, no. doi. seriously. Nathan is gross-" My elegant response of course.

Then, they showed me exhibit A- THE POEM

I could have died. For years after that, whenever I thought about it, I actually did die. Dramatic to the core.

"You wrote this." That's what they said. DENY DENY DENY. That's what I did. Yes, my name was on it, but really, anyone could have written it. Seriously. Anyone. So what if they signed my name, I can write something and sign your name to it. So there.

Weeeeeeell, Spanish Inquisition third grade style began. The boys demanded all the girls write my name on a sheet of paper, they would then compare this to the handwriting on the poem. Wham bam, thank you ma'am- they would have the elusive author.

Needless to say I disguised my handwriting, and was never found out. Although a few weeks later, after my friends convinced me that Nathan totally liked me. I wrote him a note, confessing my third grade puppy love feelings for him, and telling him it was okay, that I knew he liked me to. Amanda and Ashley told me that he did. No need to be embarrassed.

Guess what? Turns out, third grade boys are a little weirded out by notes like that. And the class found out I had the elementary hots for Nathan Philips. After all that web-weaving I was found out by my very own hand-delivered note.

Mortifying. What's your long lost embarrassing moment?

Life, or something like it

2009-09-14T13:21:00.000-07:00

I'm tired. No, really. I'm tired of not having a full-time job. I'm tired of feeling like everything in my life is "okay," like everything is gray.

People suck. They hurt you, and often on purpose. Even friends can be royal jerks. I've got a difficult situation with a friend that I'll have to face in a few weeks-- not looking forward to it. At what point do you tell them what you really think, and at what point are you fake-happy for someone; when do you just shut your mouth and let them make their own mistakes? I don't want to live with regret, but I want my friends to be happy.

Roommate and I are living on top of each other. I adore her, and couldn't be more thankful that she's put a roof over my head, but I still feel displaced. I miss my apartment--my home. I miss my bed, my dog and that dragonfly poster I had hanging in my living room. Home is where the heart is. My heart has lost it's way. Lately, I've felt the most "at home" in coffee shops with friends, at a good friend's house with people I trust and admire, laughing on the phone with Brother, Mother, or Grandparents.

I've got this feeling in my throat that has been there the past few months. A tightness. The Tightness.

The Tightness is almost tears; it's almost joy, and it's almost love. Almost. My life is full of almosts.

Life.

2009-09-08T16:54:00.000-07:00

It's been over two years since I was diagnosed. And the thing is...I totally missed it. September 5, 2007 I was told I had leukemia. September 5, 2009 I was so busy having fun with my friends, that I completely forgot about the anniversary. How awesome is that?

September

2009-09-01T22:47:00.000-07:00

Alright, so I know it's still TECHNICALLY summer...but come on people, doesn't it feel a little more like fall now that it's September? Just incase you did not know, fall is absolutely my favorite time of year. I love fall colors, fall clothes, football (HOOK 'EM HORNS), and of course, the cooler weather. Did anyone else notice that the high today in Austin was only 92?! Miracles people. That's what fall brings...miracles.

I've started making my Fall '09 ipod playlist. So far I've got:

"She is Love" by Parachute
"Prisoner" by Needtobreathe
"Lifeline" by Matt Kearney
"Warm Whispers" by Missy Higgins
"Autumn" by Paolo Nutini (which seems to make an appearance in many of my past fall playlists)

Anyway, those are a few of the songs I've got. I'm looking for suggestions...I thought about adding some Pitbull, but decided against it ;-).

Song Sung Blue

2009-08-24T17:03:00.000-07:00

Music moves me in a way that no other medium seems to. Some people look at paintings and can feel the emotions. Nothing out there can make me get up and dance, cry my eyes out, comfort me, make me feel less alone, or motivate me to change the world the way a song does. One of my favorite bands is dropping a new album tomorrow. I'm really excited. I know I've included lyrics on here from one of their songs, "Washed by the Water," and now I'm going to post lyrics to a single that will be included on their new album. So here you go.

The band: Needtobreathe.The song: "Something Beautiful"

In your ocean, I'm ankle deep

I feel the waves crashin' on my feet

It's like I know where I need to be

But I can't figure out, yeah I can't figure out

Just how much air I will need to breathe

When your tide rushes over me

There's only one way to figure out

Will ya let me drown, will ya let me drown

Hey now, this is my desire

Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful

To touch me, I know that I'm in reach

'Cause I am down on my knees, I'm waiting for something beautiful

Oh, something beautiful

And the water is risin' quick

And for years I was scared of it

We can't be sure when it will subside

So I won't leave your side, no I can't leave your side

Hey now, this is my desire

Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful

To touch me, I know that I'm in reach

'Cause I am down on my knees, I'm waiting for something beautiful

Oh, something beautiful

In a daydream, I couldn't live like this

I wouldn't stop until I found something beautiful

When I wake up, I know I will have

No, I still won't have what I need

Hey now, this is my desire

Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful

To touch me, I know that I'm in reach

'Cause I am down on my knees, I'm waiting for something beautiful

Oh, something beautiful

2009-08-11T17:33:00.001-07:00

New job prospect. Stay tuned...

September 16, 2007

2009-08-04T20:30:00.000-07:00

The first lock of hair falls to the linoleum floor: long, deep auburn and beautiful. I feel like Jo must have in Little Women, her one beauty snipped away. My eyes are heavy with tears as the scissors circumnavigate my head. I feel the muscles in my back relax. My shoulders fall forward in a defeated pose. Snipping and cutting continue. There are other noises: machines beeping and whirring, doors closing, wheels squeaking across the floor. I think of Jo. She sold her hair for her family during the Civil War. Mine must be cut, but not for any cause so noble. “If you cut it short, the hair falls out at a slower rate.” That’s what they said when I arrived.

Suddenly there is silence. I open my eyes and look at the floor, scattered with what was my crowning glory…literally. I lift my eyes and look into the blue pools that belong to my father, my mother rests her hands on my back. “It looks nice, honey.” “Shorter hair suits you.” My throat feels like cotton. I try to swallow, but am unable to. Hoarsely the words tumble out of my mouth, “Can we keep it?” My mother smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Sad smiles usually don’t. “Of course we can.”

Rejected

2009-07-27T11:40:00.000-07:00

Sorry I've been MIA for a little while. I had an interview, then found out that I made it through to the second round of interviews...and I didn't want to jinx it by writing about it on here. Turns out it wouldn't have mattered.

I packed up my life last week and moved most of it back to the 'view. A wonderful friend is letting me stay with her here in Austin for awhile. I drove back from Grandview this morning, and got to work...nervous about checking my email, praying I wouldn't have a rejection email from my job interview last Thursday...

Thank you for giving us the opportunity to explore whether you were the right fit for (insert name of company here) Publishing Assistant position. We had a number of excellent applicants including you, which made our choice a difficult one. I am, however, sorry to advise you that we are pursuing an alternative candidate whose background and career goals more closely match the needs for this particular position and the company. If another appropriate position should arise that appears to fit your qualifications, we will certainly contact you. In the meantime, thank you for letting us get to know you, and I wish you success in your current job search.

...crestfallen. I'm aching for the scruff of my dog's neck to cry into. I know it seems silly, but I am just so disappointed. So, maybe there is something better out there...I mean..as a Christian I am supposed to say, it's okay, this just wasn't the right job. God has an even better position out there for me. His plans are better than mine. My ways are not His ways. It'll all be okay....but really I just want to cry and say that this sucks. I'm not sure where to go from here. I don't really have any other leads. Oh well. I'm going to take the week to regroup and get settled into Jen's apartment. Sorry I'm such a Debbie Downer today.

flute skillz

2009-07-07T18:27:00.000-07:00

seriously, so cool.

Haven

2009-07-01T11:01:00.000-07:00

Here's a preview of the book that I edited coming out Fall 2009.

Haven by Beverly Patt is a middle grade novel that will release with Tire Swing, Blooming Tree Press's paperback imprint.

Fourteen-year-old Latonya Dennison needs a home and, as luck would have it, Rudy Morris’s home is available. However, because Latonya is black and Rudy’s family is white, the foster care system is unwilling to make the placement. When Latonya, Rudy and Rudy’s goofball friend, Stark, take matters into their own hands, each discovers a unique definition of family, as well as a few surprises along the road.

Beverly did a wonderful job and was extremely easy to work with. Congrats Bev!

*I applied for two jobs yesterday. Both are within the publishing/editing industry and both are in Austin. One of them is a position (we'll call it Job 1) that I REALLY want with a company that Blooming Tree Press has spoken with in the past about doing some business together. I called the company for Job 1 and left a voicemail with the person that I sent my resume to. Here's hoping. The great thing about the position being local is that I can continue working at BTP. I am the lead editor on a few titles that are coming out in the next two years, and they are books that I acquired (the act of accepting a manuscript for publication). I found them among the slush pile. Anyway, that's another one of the many reasons I have for staying in the ATX :-D.

Rainy Tuesday

2009-06-30T11:07:00.000-07:00

Happy Thunderstorms! It's 75 degrees outside. I woke up this morning to the sound of thunder, a great way to start off the day! Yesterday our high here in Austin was 106, so the rain was a welcome relief. I meant to take some pictures of the gorgeous cloudy skies, but I was rushed to get to work, so I didn' t. Lame.

As far as the job hunt goes, no new leads yet. I've thought about applying for an administrative assistant or a library clerk with AISD, but that's not exactly "getting my foot in the door" in an industry that I can move up in. It's a paycheck though.

Last night I sort of had a revelation. I was upset because I felt like I wasn't getting any sort of direction from God. At Bible life and in our hometeams (small groups) we've begun the "hunger and thirst for righteousness" part of the beatitudes. On Thursday Mark asked us what we were truly hungering for. I thought it was a rhetorical question, but to my surprise it wasn't. I wasn't one of the ones who answered (because I had just given a big long spiel about how I never strived to be righteous because I thought it meant perfection and that is unattainable, so why bother. Little did I know my definition of righteous was wrong), but the answers quickly came to my mind. Direction. Peace. Security. Love. Relationships. So..back to my revelation. It is quite possible that the reason I'm not "hearing" God isn't because he's not speaking to me, and not because I'm not trying to listen. Instead, I think I'm not "hearing" Him because I've got too much junk clogging up my "ears" (haha, that's kind of gross isn't it?). If I'm hungering and thirsting for all of these other things, and not the one who can provide EVERYTHING, then I'm never going to really attain much.

I think sometimes it's easy to think that God has abandoned us, that he's not listening, that he doesn't care. I mean didn't Jesus say "My God, My God, why have You forsaken me"(Matt 27:46)? I always took that to mean that God turned his back on Jesus because he couldn't look upon the sin of the world. But, Jesus WAS God. So how does that make sense? Instead, I think that Jesus took on the sins of the world, and because of all of those sins, He could no longer sense God, could no longer hear God. To bring it back to my analogy, his ears got clogged. God was still there, still loving His Son. Still listening. It was the sin that got in the way.

So basically...I've got to unclog my ears.

Anyway, those are my thoughts for the day. Enjoy the cooler weather!

new adventures

2009-06-26T11:56:00.000-07:00

I've decided to use this blog as a tool to motivate my job search. I'm going to post (hopefully) everyday about the jobs I've applied for, where I'm at in my job search, results, etc.

The websites I search regularly are:
Media Bistro
Book Jobs
Journalism Jobs
I Hire Publishing

I'm also checking the big publishing houses like Houghton Mifflin/Harcourt, Scholastic, Harper Collins, etc.

Today I applied for an Editorial Assistant position with Houghton Mifflin in Boston, MA. I've also been thinking about getting a full time position at a book store, and continue working at Blooming Tree Press so that I stay around and relevant while I wait for the industry to pick back up. I mean, what do I really need? A full time position with health benefits, right? I've got some connections at Book People, and even though they aren't hiring right now (that I know of), I'm still going to drop off my resume and apply for a job there after I get off work at the senior center. Hopefully I can hit up Borders and Barnes and Noble next week.

That being said, since I'll be moving at the end of next month, I need to purge. I've got a lot of things that I don't need. It's time to clean out my closet, cupboards, and life.

Oh the adventure... ;-)

one, two, three...what comes after three?

2009-06-24T12:36:00.000-07:00

I'm back! I spent last week in the 'view with my family, and then the weekend on Eagle Lake in Vicksburg, MS at my Dad's parents' home. It was nice to get away for a little bit, to not stress about the fact that my lease is up July 31st, and I still don't have a job. I'm in a state of limbo, of no control. I can feel my emotions starting to bubble up at the surface. I apparently had them pushed down pretty far, and then whenever my parents would ask me about how the job hunt was going it was all I could do not to burst into tears. Augh. Stupid girl.

For awhile I was only applying to places in Austin. I want to stay here, I like the people, the city, pretty much everything. Well, after several weeks with no bites on my line I started applying to other places in Texas. Still. Nothing. Seriously? I'm qualified. I've got 3 years of publishing/editing experience under my belt, and you know what else? I'm good at what I do. I'm a good editor, and I do a great job working with authors, publishers, printers, etc. I've got no problem starting at the bottom and working my way up. I just need some sort of opportunity.

I sort of had a revelation this weekend. Even though I would like to stay in Austin, there's nothing keeping me here. Truly. I am actually starting to get the itch to go somewhere else, but maybe that has nothing to do with the place I'm at physically, but rather the place I'm at spiritually (I'm an over-analyzer if you couldn't tell) Well, anway, so today I applied for several positions in Tennessee and other random states.

I'm praying. If God would just send me a neon sign pointing me in the right direction I would be good to go. The whole faith thing can be hard for me sometimes. I like knowing what's coming next. I tend to get a little anxious when I don't know what's going to happen. It sort of feels like falling off of a cliff. God keeps teaching us the same lessons until we learn them, right?

Get a better attitude. Try a BEATITUDE.

2009-06-08T13:44:00.000-07:00

So, as most of you know, the young singles at GHBC are studying the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3). We’re going through them, and learning to live our lives as Christ-like as possible.

Right now we are talking about meekness- what it means to be meek, how to demonstrate meekness, and the fact that we have no rights other than the right to be a child of God (“But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name.” John 1:12 NJKV). This is a concept that has been branded with the moniker personal rights. All of that being said…I really hate this part of the study because it’s hard, and it reveals how far away from being truly Christ-like I am.

The concept is that by thinking you are entitled to certain things, you are making a slave of other people. For instance, if I feel entitled to respect from every individual, and I react negatively towards them when they don’t, that’s a sin. I don’t have any right to feel entitled towards respect. The same goes for my health. I don’t have any right to be entitled to good health. What makes me think I do? I do have a right to be God’s child, his daughter, but that's the only right I actually possess.

I reared my head at this concept. I felt (and still feel) that there is a difference between expectations and entitlements. Because if I was not able to have expectations of people, it meant that I would be subjecting myself to endless hurt and disappointment. Is that really the way God wants me to live my life? Is it wrong that I expect my friends to treat me differently than strangers I pass on the street? I don’t know. I think it’s all about your attitude. If I feel entitled to something, then I react negatively when that entitlement is not fulfilled. To speak in GHBC terms, I would have a Sad/Mad/Bad. I would want to enact revenge upon that person for violating my “personal right”.

To me, an expectation is the hope that something would happen, or someone would treat me a certain way. It’s positive. If the expectation isn’t met, I would feel disappointment and possibly sad, but not ready to rip the other person’s head off. The point of learning about personal rights is…we have NO RIGHT to demand things from other people. If you think I’m wrong, please show me in the Bible where it says we do, because I've been looking, but I haven't found anything yet.

That being said…I’ve found out that I demand that people treat me in a respectful manner. I feel entitled that they listen to me. If I apologize to someone, I put the demand upon them that they forgive me, because I wouldn’t have come to them and apologized if I hadn’t thought about it for a long time (because I’m a rather proud person, another thing I need to work on—sort of the opposite of being meek) and truly meant it. I demand that people are considerate of my feelings. I demand that they consider me when they act.

I was watching The Bachelorette last Monday. There is a man on the show (his name is David I think) who seems to really really have a problem with another guy on the show named Juan. David hates that Juan likes poetry, doesn't drink the shot of alcohol that the guys bring to him (instead pretends to drink it), and other outrageous things that left me puzzled. I began to wonder about David. What were his personal rights? Juan must seriously be violating them, because David was about ready to rip his head off. Something about Juan sets David off, and from what footage has aired, there doesn’t seem to be any reason for David to be as upset as he is.

Think about that. The next time you get really angry at someone, step back, and think about why you are mad. What is the real reason? What is it about the person or the situation that makes you so upset? As I’ve gone along in the beatitudes study, I’ve seen how the concept of things has grown and changed. At first the moments were called being poor in spirit. I’d walk into Bible study and say, “Oh man guys, I totally had a poor in spirit moment today…” I recognized that I needed to step back and be poor in my own spirit, so that my human hang-ups and rights didn’t get in the way. Then it was called Sad/Mad/Bad when we studied mourning. We learned to identify the emotions before we had the “bad” (acting out). I used to think I never got sad, that I only got angry because it was an emotion I felt more comfortable with. I quickly learned that I did in fact feel sad; I was just suppressing the emotion until I reached the “mad”, and sometimes I would act out and experience a “bad”. I learned to mourn out those hurts as I identified them. Now while studying meekness, the reasons I have these "bads" are identified as personal rights.

All of these things are building blocks into becoming more Christ-like. I’ll tell you something though…I thought I had my Christian life figured out. I prayed, read the Bible, understood who God was, and pursued him. I had my rose-colored glasses super-glued to my head, and everything was wonderful. This study ripped the glasses off, stomped on them, twisted the metal frames and shattered the lenses. I keep trying to pick them up and put them back on, but they keep falling off. It’s like The Matrix. I was taking the blue pill before, and everything was wonderful (or so it seemed). Suddenly, I seemed to have swallowed a red pill, and though everything isn’t as good as I once thought, I’m armed with the information I need to live a true life, a life more Christ-like than I ever could have hoped for with the blue pill.

I'm a Christian, Get Me Out of Here!

2009-06-02T17:44:00.000-07:00

Long time no blog...sorry about that. Quick update: health is slightly better, graduated from college, looking for a job, etc.

Alright, so now that all of the tv shows that I watch are on haitus for the summer, I thought I'd take a gander at "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!" because it's got people I love to hate on it, namely Heidi and Spencer Pratt from The Hills. So, who cares? Where's the beef?

So here it is. Heidi is talking about how she loves Jesus more than anything, and that she wants to feed the hungry, help the poor, "be the next Mother Teresa". Stephen Baldwin tells Spencer how important it is for him to be baptized, and then volunteers to do it. Spencer thinks that's great, and says Heidi asks him to get baptized all the time.

Stephen and Spencer head to the river, gets dunked, and then it cuts to him talking about how wonderful it was to have so many sins washed away, that he already feels like a new man, because he was a serious sinner, and now he's clean. He then talked about how awesome it was that that could wash away all of his sins, and that he feels so powerful, so strong. Earlier in the show he mentioned that he had to start believing in God because "seriously everything Heidi prays for, down to the last detail, it happens" and that he said, "okay God, if you're so powerful, I want to go on a double date with Miley Cyrus, and not only did it work, it happened within a month."

It angers me that these two people, who are obviously more concerned with their own fame than anything else are not only claiming to be Christians, but never stop talking about it, and how good they are for being Christians. Live out loud dude. If you can't live in a way that honors God, and be authentic about having a passion for Him, I'd rather you not tell anyone you're a Christian. It frustrates me that they are doing more to hurt the case for Christianity than to help it, but more than that, it causes me to look at my own life. I might not be as an extreme case as Speidi, but am I living out loud? Can people tell by seeing my actions that I serve a higher power and his name is Jesus?

live authentically, live boldly, live passionately, live with an eternal perspective.

food for thought.

from the beginning

2009-04-01T21:26:00.000-07:00

So I've had a few friends ask me for this URL..so I'm just going to post it on here. You are free to check it out if you want.

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/annaherrington

That's the website my dad set up when I got sick. It was our way of letting everyone know what was going on without having to send out a million emails. I don't post there anymore, but for me, it's a great record of everything I went through.

That's all :-)

Relationships are stupid

2009-03-31T12:36:00.000-07:00

quick health update before I get to the other parts of this post...

I went to see Dr. B (aka hottie doc) on Friday. He sent me to a dermatologist who deals specifically with people who have had bone marrow transplants, and thus have graft. vs. host disease. Anyway, she is amazing (shout out to Dr. Jennifer Cather). She took a look at the area and said a few things:

1. it was just a graft vs. host disease blister

2. no biopsy will be required

3. all I will need for treatment are a few localized steroid shots monthly

(it will however take 6-8 months to heal)

So seriously, PTL for that!

Awesome. Anyway, so my friend Drew posted a blog in response to my G's vs. Gents post called What Men Want. I think Drew unintentionally opened the floodgates for conversation of how men and women relate, and the difference in how the sexes communicate. I think a big part of communication comes from our love languages. For those of you who haven't read The 5 Love Languages, I encourage you to do so. For me, my predominant love language is quality time. If I want to get to know you better, I will probably ask you to spend one on one time with me. Drew made the point that for most men (well, for him...I don't know about others), they will not specifically ask a girl to hang out one on one unless they are interested. I've found that not to be true for women. Just because I ask you out for coffee doesn't mean I'm interested. On the other hand, it doesn't mean I'm not. More than likely, all that it means is that I think you're pretty neat, and I'd like to get to know you better.

Drew talked about a woman being direct. Alright...as a person, I think I'm pretty outgoing and slightly flirty. In the past I've had guys think that I am interested in them when I'm not. This has caused me to rethink my approach. I'm trying to be more direct, but when you are, there's the fear of rejection. What if I put myself out there and I get rejected? What if he STILL doesn't get it? What if it makes our friendship awkward? We all have a million reasons not to be direct. There's also the factor that he might be interested, but dislike the fact that you are so direct.

I've found women tend to be terrible about encouraging one another when we can tell that the man our friend is interested in isn't into them. Why? Because we don't want to hurt her feelings. LADIES! We have got to put a stop to this. This makes me question myself when I'm interested in someone if my friends are telling me the truth. It's hard to do...but I think we've got to start being honest with each other.

Okay, back to being direct...I challenge the men to be direct as well. I think back over my past experiences, and to my friends' recent ones...and it seems like that seems to be a problem as well. When you (speaking to the men here) are spending a lot of time one on one, or a lot of time talking on the phone to a particular girl, she is probably going to think you are interested. Unfortunately, I have seen several of my friends assume this, and then be disappointed when after months of thinking something was progressing, realize that the guy wasn't interested after all, but was instead just enjoying the friendship (and maybe the perks of the emotional part of something more). So, I know Drew said those are things he wouldn't do, but I've seen many many men act this way.

This is how we all end up so confused. Instead of saying what we mean, we are all so worried about reading signals, playing the game, and trying to keep ours and other interested parties' feelings intact. Here's my challenge to my small pool of readers: let's try to get rid of that fear of rejection. Guys- if you are interested in a girl, ask her on a date OR if you think one is interested in you, and you aren't...gently tell her

DISCLAIMER: Do not under any circumstances do this around or near her friends or other people that she knows. Also, once you have told her this, thank her and then walk away. IF she is interested as you might have thought (because she might not be), she'll need time to process. DO NOT continue talking to her about life/other things. Women can sense that you are just trying to smooth things over and make YOURSELF feel better about the fact that you might have hurt our feelings.

Also, ladies- the same goes for you, with the same disclaimer. Now, I'm not sure where I stand on asking a guy out. I still feel like that sets the tone for the entire relationship, and since I am a firm believer that the biblical model for relationships is best, I think the man should be the spiritual leader in the relationship. BUT, there might be a time and a place for it...the jury is still out.

**edit**

My friend Delisa recently told me that if a guy asks her to do something, she'll probably say yes, but if it is one she is interested in, she'll say, "yes, but only if it is a date." How's that for direct? I like that.

Biopsy Shmiopsy

2009-03-23T13:01:00.000-07:00

So I geared myself up for the biopsy today. I realized maybe they would have to use some conscious sedation on me, so maybe I should find someone who could go with me, and subsequently drive me home. Luckily, my friend Beth was available. Well, we get to the hospital, and I find out that I'm having surgery, as in complete anesthesia surgery. I was very glad at this point that I had called her (you know how I like to do things on my own and never ask for help...). So I get in the room they are having me wait in, change into the scrub pants, gown and lovely hairnet (which I remarked I actually had hair to "net" this time, the last time I wore one I was bald), and a nurse drew my blood.

At this point, a different (and might I add very friendly) nurse named Mark comes in and just kinda goes over the procedure with me. While this is happening I see a attractive young guy in dark blue scrubs (Grey's Anatomy style y'all...) coming up to my room. He introduces himself as Dr. Swanson, who I knew would be doing the surgery, but then tells me that a dermatological surgeon should really be doing it, and that because of that, I wasn't going to be having the biopsy today.

WHAT?!

So, when I went to see Dr. Hellerstedt and we scheduled the biopsy she wanted me to see a derm (I think that's in a previous post), but at the time they couldn't find one that would accept my insurance, so they said they would find one, then call me with the appt. Weeeeeeell....they never called, but I didn't realize that I wouldn't be able to have the biopsy without seeing one first. You think someone would have figured all of this out a little sooner....oh well, it's like Mark said, "at least I hadn't started your IV yet."

So that's all a little irritating, but moving on...

Last week I went to New Orleans with a few of my oldest and dearest friends. We had a really good time, and it was wonderful to spend that much time with them. I really enjoyed the trip, but I don't know that I would go back. NO is a pretty dirty city, and they were having a trash pickup problem when we were there. We did find a great little pub off the beaten path that I lovingly referred to as 'Ye Old Irish Pub'. It was a locals only type place. Good times were had by all. On the way back Colby and I stopped at Oak Alley Plantation, a historic old plantation along the Mississippi River. Click on the link. It was beautiful.

My humps, my humps, my humps, my humps

2009-03-11T10:57:00.000-07:00

Happy "hump" day. That's kind of a lame name...we should change it. Anyway, I hope you are all having a wonderful Wednesday, even if it is about 25 degrees colder than it was yesterday. I'm so looking forward to spring break next week. I'm heading to New Orleans with some of my oldest and dearest friends. A good time will be had by all :-D.

Last night I went to Mikado, a sushi place here in Austin with my friend Courtney. Okay. Guys. Seriously. It was amazing. I'm not that familiar with sushi, and was a little nervous about it because I know a lot of it is spicy. It was so good though, and now I want to eat sushi for a week straight. Does anyone else have that problem? When I find something I like, I want to immerse myself in it. Whether that means a song, a new friend, food...lol I press repeat over and over, or I want to hang out with them and learn about their life. Oh well.

So I guess I should give you guys on a status update on the last post. Well, I had the ultrasound, and there was no mass, but they did notice something that's "odd". Dr. Hellerstedt thinks it's more of a skin issue because of the GVHD (Graft vs. Host Disease), so she's referred me to a dermatologist. I do have a biopsy scheduled though on March 23. So it's the waiting game again, but that's okay.

Exodus 14:13-14
13 And Moses said to the people, “Do not be afraid. Stand still, and see the salvation of the LORD, which He will accomplish for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall see again no more forever. 14 The LORD will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace.”

Here we go again?

2009-02-25T12:45:00.000-08:00

*Note* Strong language will be used in this post. Do not read if you have sensitive...eyes.

Cancer is a bitch. Plain and simple. There's no question mark there. Today I went to the doctor because I've been feeling really crummy lately, and after an examination...I have a mammogram and ultrasound scheduled for Monday because I might have BREAST CANCER. Are you kidding me? Cancer is the name of the game folks, and it's just something I can't seem to escape.

The doc thinks whatever is going on w/ my body probably isn't breast cancer, but because of the radiation I had for leukemia and the breast exam she did on me, she just wants to run a few "routine tests". Sorry for being a little pessimistic. Poor in spirit? Is that what we're supposed to be working on this week? Well here's my poor in spirit moment.

I'm angry and annoyed. I don't think I have cancer, but it's the treatement from the damn leukemia that puts me at risk for this shit. I'm sick and tired of worrying about every little thing. I woke up the other night after having a bad dream and was covered in sweat. My first thought? NIGHT SWEATS! Oh shit, the cancer's back. Um, reality check, it's not...I had a stupid bad dream. I really don't want to lose all of my hair again. I don't want to go through the vomiting, fainting, disoriented shit that I've already been through...but you know what? If I have to...bring it on. Seriously cancer? Do you honestly think you're going to win? Hell no.

Reflecting

2009-01-02T12:13:00.000-08:00

I am so excited for this new year. My life has changed so much over the past few years. 2007 was the worst year of my life, what with being diagnosed with Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia and nearly losing my life, to all of the side effects that came along with it (baldness, nausea, and many other things I won't mention). 2008 marked the road to recovery.

On January 1,2008 I checked out of the hosptial after a successful peripheral blood stem-cell transplant (not stem cells from an embryo, but stem cells made in the bone marrow, this is an easier and more up to date way of giving someone a bone marrow transplant. It is a far less invasive procedure, and is virtually painless for the donor and the recipient). I was no longer fighting cancer, I was recovering from a procedure that saved my life. 2008 was filled with many good things, but a lot of struggles as well. Part of the recovery was morning sickness- that lasted about 4 months, then there was the chronic graft vs. host disease, lupus, and lymphedema. In 2008 I also grew some hair, moved back to my apartment in Austin, found a new church with some great friends, began working again at both of my jobs, and went back to school full time. I have truly been blessed. Most people who are fighting/fought ALL and had a BMT (bone marrow transplant) have serious fatigue that hinders them from living alone and taking on all of the aspects of life that I have been able to. I can only thank my wonderful Creator. It is because of Him and all of your prayers that I am not only here, but living life abundantly.

I know that this year will be even better than the last. I still struggle, but I am able to manage the hindersome things that cancer and the treatment(radiation, chemo, etc.) have left me with.

Thank you for making 2008 special, and I can't wait to see what 2009 holds!

Terms of Endearment

2008-10-21T19:16:00.001-07:00

And no, not the movie, which I have actually never seen...I'm talking about nicknames.

Having a name like Anna, I've been given several nicknames throughout my 22 years.....and I LOVE them. I suppose a nickname can be something embarrassing or horrible if the people who give them to you don't do it out of love, thankfully that has never happened to me.

My favorite part of nicknames are the special meanings that they hold, or how they remind me of a particular person. One of my dearest guy friends calls me Annabelle. He has ever since we first met, no one else in the world calls me that, so when I see him and he yells out "Annabelle!" My face lights up and I am reminded of how much I adore him.

Nicknames tell a lot about a relationship. Two people that are very close often don't call each other by their given names, but instead something that recalls a particular experience or bond that they share. Consequently, I love giving people nicknames. I love sharing that bond with someone, not to mention humor is one of my favorite things...and nicknames are a wonderful outlet for that.

Another nickname of mine is Ace. Someone very close to me, who was killed not that long ago bestowed that upon me. He said I was his best card, his Ace. Then there's the very typical Anna Banana, which gets shortened to Banana often. Because I'm always coming up with hair-brained schemes my Grandmother calls me Anna McGillicuty (as in Lucy McGillicuty Ricardo...Lucille Ball). Friends at a job I had once called me Indy...like Indiana Jones, which I thought was a bit of a stretch, but I appreciated it all the same.

How do you feel about nicknames? Do you have any? Please share!

The Aftermath

2008-10-15T20:57:00.000-07:00

So, I have a friend who also had cancer. She was diagnosed when she was 20, a year younger than when I was. We met up a few nights ago and talked about life post-cancer, and what that really means, especially when it comes to men.

It is no secret that a girl's biggest fear is to be abandoned. I wrote about that a few posts ago, but trust me, that fear increases exponentially when you have had cancer (because at some point you'll have to tell him). I was in a 3 year relationship that ended right after my boyfriend saw me bald. Let's be honest...what do you think that does for a girl's self esteem? I had my mom cut my hair short (what I at the time thought was short..about chin length...HA), while I was in the hospital. Two days later, my part was about an inch wide, so I gave myself a pixie cut to try to hide some of it...and by that evening I had shaved my head completely because it was coming out in clumps (and let me tell you something...it itches like no other when it falls out...trust this). We all know that men are driven by what they see, and even though I'm not bald anymore, sometimes when I look in the mirror I still see the bald girl with the big eyes and sad smile.

I now have a full head of hair (no matter how short it may be), and I think I'm about as healthy as I'm going to get. Yeah, I still have days where I basically have to crawl out of bed and I feel like I've been run over by a truck (thanks fatigue!). The question then becomes, will a man ever love me enough to get past the fact that I've had cancer and that 1)I'll have to worry about relapse for the rest of my life and 2)I have Lupus, which puts me in a whole other category when it comes to getting sick? This is a lot of baggage to take on. I am TERRIFIED that no one will ever love me enough to see past that. I try my best to not let everything get me down, but sometimes, when I'm feeling really bad, I wish there was someone here to make me a cup of tea and just hold me. If I couldn't trust the guy I had been with for 3 years to handle everything....how will anyone else ever be able to?

And when do you tell the guy that you're seeing? This was something that my friend and I talked about. For me, I've been very open about everything that I've been through, and will pretty much answer any questions about it not because I'm looking for pity or sympathy (that is the LAST thing I want), but because if I'm sluggish or can't do certain things, I don't want people to think it's because of ME. Then again...when you go on a date with a guy, you don't want to start off with, "Soooo, I had cancer last year, do you like your food?" I read a book called Reconstructing Natalie where the main character had breast cancer (at 26), and she went on a date and asked the guy if he was a boob man, then said she had hers chopped off because she had cancer. I laughed so hard...because that is exactly the sort of thing I would do. I used to just pull off my wig wherever I was at any given time because thing thing would get so dang HOT. My face would sweat. Gross, but anyway, I've had experiences with men (relationships and guys I was friends with) not knowing how to act around me. It was like they were afraid to look at me because I looked sick. It just becomes so frustrating. I don't look sick anymore...but what I looked like a year ago still haunts me. Cancer still haunts me. For over a year I avoided all mirrors. Now, I don't know. People don't get that the emotional aftermath of cancer is almost as bad as the treatment was. Yes, I'm not sick anymore...but now I'm having to face all of the emotions I pushed away.

I laughed through everything to keep from crying...and now I'm in a state of reflection, but I can't really talk about it with anyone...because who wants to hear about all of this? It is hard for those who haven't been through it to understand. I'm not looking for sympathy..and I hate to be pitied. I just use this as an outlet to reflect...so thank you for letting me.

HOLLA!

2008-10-12T16:43:00.000-07:00

Diagnosis

2008-10-09T22:50:00.000-07:00

So I wrote this a few days ago for my short story class. It's about my diagnosis...names have been changed to protect the innocent ;-). Please ignore the lack of separated paragraphs...Word didn't translate very well, and I don't feel like fixing it. haha

I dialed the number for the university nurse hotline, and I’ve been on hold for the past 10 minutes. “Hello, may I help you?” The line squawks.
“Uh, yes...I am having some issues, and I need to know if I should make an appointment with the doctor or just not worry about it.”
“Okay, what are your symptoms?”
“Um, well, I get really tired pretty easily; I get short of breath walking a very short distance. I think it’s a little more than being out of shape...ha ha…my head hurts a lot, I think maybe it’s a migraine...my mom has those. I’ve lost about 10lbs in the past week without trying. Hey, that’s not really a bad thing, right? Ha ha. I’ve been having nosebleeds, but the weather has been a little dry. I’ve also been really thirsty, but, you know, that’s not a big deal. Oh, and I have this pain in my chest, kinda below my rib-cage. Anyway, it’s a dull pain all of the time, but then it becomes sharper when I breathe in.”
“Ma’am” the nurse says, this time with a very soft tone, “you need to hang up and dial 911.”
I drop the pen in my hand. She has got to be kidding. It’s probably just a panic attack or something.
“Ma’am? Are you alone?”
“Yes”
“Can you call 911? Will you be able to do that?”
Dazed, I mumble “Yes, thank you…have a good day.”
I look at my dog, Lola, sitting on the floor, and am sure that the nurse must have made a mistake. She didn’t get to examine me, I’m sure it’s nothing. “Well, Lola, if I’m going to go to the hospital, I’d better find something comfortable to wear.” I rifled through the clothes in my drawer, and of course, true to form, had nothing to wear. I have a tendency to let my laundry pile up to an ungodly amount, and currently residing on the floor of my closet is a mountain of clothes that Lola enjoys sleeping on. “Well, Lo, I don’t want to go to the hospital in jeans, because what if I have to stay there several hours? I guess I’ll run by the mall on the way.”
My thought process is this: I can walk and drive just fine. I might not be able to walk very far without getting winded, but I am not about to have an ambulance pick me up in front of my apartment with all of my neighbors watching when I can drive there myself with no problem.
I carefully pull my oversized t-shirt on, aware of the dull ache in my ribcage, trying not to turn any particular direction too quickly, as this sometimes brings about the sharper pain that kept me up half of the night last night. I slide my hands over my hair, bringing it up into a ponytail, and securing it with the elastic I routinely keep on my wrist. I pick up my crumpled jeans off of the floor and pull them on, grab my purse and my keys, and head out the door.
It’s a nice day outside. I’m glad I didn’t have class today. The sun is shining brightly, and there are big puffy white clouds smattered across the cornflower blue sky. Hopefully this hospital business won’t take too long, and I can spend some time in the sun. I pull into the mall parking lot, after finding a suitable parking space, close enough to the entrance that I know it won’t kill me to walk to the building. Victoria’s Secret is probably a good place to find some lounge pants. I slowly walk through the doors, already feeling tired and a little winded. Thankfully the directory is right there inside the entrance. I stand in front of it for awhile trying to catch my breath, and I see that Victoria’s Secret is downstairs on the other side of the mall. “Fantastic” I mutter under my breath.
I head that way, stopping every few minutes to rest. Thank goodness they have those benches scattered all over the place! I count the tiles on the floor as I walk. This way I can concentrate on that, and not how tired I’m feeling. Maybe there is something really wrong.
I made it into the store after several minutes. The clearance rack is all the way in the back, but I don’t want to pay $30 for the lounge pants in the front of the store. I make my way to the circular clearance rack, and luckily I see the perfect pair of kelly green lounge pants. I like green a lot, because it looks good with my pale skin and long auburn hair. I grab the size I need, hurriedly check out, and make what feels like an extremely long trek back to my car.
By the time I get outside, I am so tired I could really use nap. I unlock my door, toss the pants in the passenger’s seat, turn on the car and just let the AC blow on me. I take slow deep breaths, trying to regain some strength. I guess this could be serious. I don’t know…I’m sure it’s fine. I shift into reverse, check my mirrors and glance over my shoulder before pulling out of my space and heading home.
I walk back inside my apartment, kick my shoes off by the door, and plop down on my white IKEA couch. A white couch is not a good idea when you have a dog by the way, I cannot tell you how many times I’ve had to wash the cushion covers, but anyway, I coax the lounge pants out of the little pink bag, shimmy out of my jeans, and slide on the comfortable pants. Lola is whining at the door, so I snap on her leash, take her outside…contemplating about what will actually happen at the hospital. I’ve never been to one, so I don’t really know what to expect. I imagine the emergency room will be packed. That’s what you always hear. People complain about how many hours they had to sit and wait in the ER. Oh well, I’m sure it won’t take that long. I let Lola back inside my apartment, grab my keys and head out the door.
Finding parking isn’t too hard, but the walk from the parking garage to the ER is a little difficult. It isn’t as far as Victoria’s Secret though, so I know I can make it.
The doors to the ER slide open. That’s good, I’m sure it’s easier for people who’ve really hurt themselves to not have to open a door. Anyway, like I said, I’ve never been to a hospital before, so when I walk in, I look around the room, trying to see where it is I should go. First of all, the room is almost completely empty, so much for my fantasy of a packed ER full of limbless people, people with massive head wounds, and maybe someone who fell off of a ladder. Alas, life is never as exciting as television, and I have apparently been watching too many episodes of Grey’s Anatomy.
The waiting room is oval-shaped and rather large, with high ceilings, and a white tile floor that has green tiles the same shade of my new pants peppered around the room. Straight ahead there is a desk with a woman sitting behind it, she looks at me quizzically. I must have been standing here longer than I thought, because she asks me sweetly, “Honey, do you need to see a doctor?”
“Yes, yes I need to see a doctor”
“Okay, well if you just fill these out, I need too see your insurance card and driver’s license, and then you can have a seat and wait until they call your name.”
“Okay.” I take the clipboard and eye the forms. I fill out all of the required forms, and turn them back in to the lady at the front. There’s a girl in a wheelchair sitting in front of me. She’s wearing lounge pants too. I knew it was a good thing I didn’t come in jeans! Something must really be wrong with this girl though; she’s moaning and clutching her stomach. I really hope she doesn’t throw up on me. Just to be safe I get up and move a row over. I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to be near someone who vomits. An ambulance brings in a big black woman named Sarah, and I see the paramedic having a hushed conversation with the receptionist about her mental state. Apparently, just because you are brought by ambulance, that doesn’t necessarily mean that you will be seen right away, because this woman wasn’t, and she was mad. Sarah began roaming the room.
“Aaaaaaaooooohhhhhh” she wailed. “Aaaaaaaooooooh, I need to see a doctor, why won’t any of you let me see a doctor??!”
“Apparently she has been vomiting for several hours, and cannot keep anything down.” The paramedic breathed to the receptionist.
“MA’AM!” The receptionist yells over Sarah’s wailing “MA’AM, I NEED YOU TO CALM DOWN. A DOCTOR WILL NOT SEE YOU UNTIL YOU CALM DOWN!”
Thankfully at that point a door opens and a blonde little nurse in bubble-gum pink scrubs calls my name, “Charlotte Ryan.” I grab my purse, smile at her, and follow her through the door.
“Hi Charlotte, I’m Jean”
“Hi” I said, “please call me Chuck.”
“Okay,” she smiled. “Chuck, first we are going to take your blood pressure, temperature, and check your pulse. And I also need to know, on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the worst, what would you rate your pain at right now?”
“Ummmmm, probably a 6.”
“Okay,” she notes on her clip board, 6. “Now, if you’ll just relax, I’m going to velcro this around your arm to take your blood pressure. If you’ll also slide this clamp on your finger we’ll be able to detect your pulse and oxygen level at the same time”
The machine starts beeping, and the velcro ring on my arm inflates. After a few minutes, the machine beeps one loud final time to alert Nurse Jean that it is finished.
“Oh.” She alarms. “Okay, I’m going to go get you a wheelchair and we’ll get you in a room.”
“What is it?” I beg her. I can’t see the results on the screen because it is faced away from me.
The she comes back with the wheelchair, I actually welcome it, I am so tired, and I think something might actually be wrong with me. Nurse Jean wheels me to a room with a glass wall that faces the rest of the ER. I can see the doctors and nurses buzzing back and forth, laughing and joking. Jean tells me to go ahead and take off my shirt and bra and put on the hospital gown she has laid out for me. She explains that they will be doing a few scans, and this will make me more comfortable. “First, we will need to start an IV to get some fluids in you and take some blood samples.” She pulls a few needles out of the drawer, pulls on some latex gloves. I watch her as they snap against her wrists. She ties the elastic around my upper arm, finds the vein, and inserts the needle. After the IV is in, I watch her fill five vials with my blood. She tells me the doctor will be in to see me soon.
I didn’t have to wait very long. Apparently, very soon actually means very soon. After just a couple of minutes, a young, and might I add attractive, man in navy scrubs knocks on my door. “Hi Charlotte, I’m Dr. Hadley”
“Hi Dr. Hadley, please call me Chuck.”
“Okay, well, Chuck, first I’m going to have them run a CT scan on your chest to see if we can figure out what is causing the pain you’ve been having, and hopefully we’ll get your lab results back to see what is going on with your blood. Your heart rate is extremely high for someone your age, and it is doubtful you are having a heart attack, so something is definitely wrong. You have a pulse of about 145, and the normal range for your age is between 80 and 100. That leads me to believe you are anemic, but what we need to find out is why. I want to hook you up to a machine that monitors your heart rate, blood pressure, and give you some oxygen because you aren’t getting enough by breathing on your own.”
“Wow, that’s fantastic” slips out of my mouth in an extremely sarcastic tone. “I’m sorry…I thought I was just having a panic attack. How long am I going to be here?”
“I’m not sure, but I can tell you we will have to admit you, and you’ll stay at least overnight. Do you have someone you can call to come see you?”
“Yeah…and I guess I should call my parents to let them know I’m here.”
“That might be a good idea.”
Dr. Hadley turned and left the room to give me some privacy. I fumbled for my cell phone and dialed my mom. The instant I heard my mom pick up my tongue seemed too big for my mouth. “Hello” she chirped. “Chuck? Are you there?”
“Hey Mom”
“Is everything okay?”
“Well, I’m in the ER at the hospital. They said they are going to have to admit me. Mom, something is really wrong. I’m scared.”
“Okay. Okay.” I can hear the panic rising in her voice. “I’m going to call your dad, and then we’ll head down there. It’ll probably take us two hours to get to Austin, but we’ll head that way as soon as we can.”
“Thanks Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Almost immediately after I push the end call button a different nurse comes into my room. “Hey Girlie! I’m here to take you across the hall to get a CT scan of your chest. I couldn’t find a wheelchair though; looks like all the ones around here are being used. So I can take you in the hospital bed, or we can walk.”
“I can walk. It’s just down the hall right?”
“Yes. Okay, well let’s go!”
We start walking down the hall when Dr. Hadley comes running up to us, “Shawna! Get her in a wheelchair now. She should not be standing. Chuck is severely anemic, and I’m afraid she’ll faint.”
“WHAT?!” is all that comes out of my mouth. Oh jeez, apparently I’m too sick to even walk down the hallway. What in the world is going on with me? The nurse who called me “girlie”, apparently named Shawna, tells me to grab on to her arm, we walk back into my room. I climb back into the bed. Shawna unlocks the wheels, pushes me and my bed out the door and back to the CT room we go.
The CT room is bigger than the room they have me staying in, but not by much. There is a machine that has a big ring and a bed that goes through the ring. I thought a CT was when your body had to sit inside that tunnel for a long time, but this doesn’t look anything like that. Instead of a tunnel, it’s more like a hula hoop.
Shawna introduces me to Dr. Kipling. He is going to run the CT scan. Dr. Kipling is older, probably in his early 60’s with kind eyes and a gray beard. “Hi there, have you ever had a CT scan before?”
“No, no I haven’t.”
“Okay, well what is going to happen is this: first, we are going to run some iodine through your IV. It will probably make you feel flushed, and possibly make you feel like you have to urinate, but you won’t. Ha ha, I promise. What that will do is provide some contrast, so we can see if there is anything in your chest that we need to worry about. You’ll be lying on this bed.” As he says this he pats the bed that runs through the ring of the CT machine. “The scan should last about 15 minutes, and then you’ll be done! I’ll be in an adjoining room running the machine, and I’ll be able to talk to you through the speakers located here.” He points near the top of the bed, right where my head should go. “I’ll be able to hear you too if you need to talk to me. Sound good?”
“That sounds like it’ll work”
Dr. Kipling chuckled, “Okay, well good.”
I push myself off of my hospital bed and over to the bed on the CT machine. Dr. Kipling injects some iodine into my IV, and after a few seconds a warm sensation comes over me. Dr. Kipling wasn’t joking, I really do feel like my bladder is going to burst. He walks back into an adjoining room that is separated from the CT room by a glass panel.
“Okay, I’m going to start the scans now, just stay still and let me know if you get uncomfortable at any time,” the speaker crackled in my ear. The machine begins to buzz, and the bed I’m on moves through the ring, which is now lighting up and starting to spin, as if trying to take off. I don’t blame it. I’m ready to take off. There can’t be anything seriously wrong with me, right? I just want to hurry up and get this over with so I can go back home. I should call Grant so he can come up here and be with me. I’m tired of having to be alone.
Grant is my wonderful boyfriend of 2 ½ years. He is rugged looking, in a Gerard Butler/Clive Owen kind of way. He’s tall and had black curly hair, gorgeous brown eyes, broad shoulders, and a killer ass. I could definitely use one of his bear hugs about now.
“Alright, you’re done.” Dr. Kipling croaks through the speaker. “Just sit tight and I’ll be out to get you back over to your bed momentarily.” I hear the door open and close, and the doc strides over to meet me. “Okay here we go,” he says as he moves my hospital bed next to the CT bed. He locks the wheels so it doesn’t move around as I scoot myself back over onto my bed. “Brilliantly done!” he tells me.
“Ha ha, thanks.” At that moment, Shawna comes walking through the door.
“Alright Girlie, let’s get you back to your room,” she cheers as she wheels me out the door. The trip back to my room is very short, and before I know it, I’m hooked up to the blood pressure machine, and have an oxygen tube in my nose, which not surprisingly, actually makes it a lot easier to breathe. I grab my phone and dial Grant’s number.
“Hi, this is Grant, sorry I’m not available to answer your call. Please leave your name number and a brief message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
Ugh. I hang up the phone, this is great. Oh well, at least Mom and Dad are on the way. I am so tired, and as long as I am in this comfortable bed, I might as well take a nap. Hey, I’ve got nothing better to do. I close my eyes and conjure up images of Russell Crowe in Gladiator. Mmmmm now that makes me feel better. Right as I was about to drift off to sleep, Dr. Hadley walks in my room.
“Okay Chuck, well, it looks like we know part of what is wrong with you. The CT scan showed that you have several blood clots on both sides of your lungs. That is what is causing the pain in your chest. There is still something else though. Something is funky with your blood. The lab specialists are still looking over the blood smears, but we should know something soon.”
“Blood clots? Can’t those go to your brain and cause a stroke?”
Dr. Hadley sighed, “Yes, but thankfully they got caught in your lungs first. I’m going to put you on a blood thinner called heparin. It will thin out your blood and break up the clots. “
I forced a weak smile, “Okay Dr. Hadley, thanks.” I picked up my phone and called Mom.
“Chuck? Hello? Is everything okay?”
“Hey Mom, I’m not sure. They did a CT scan, and apparently I have blood clots on both sides of my lungs. There’s still something else wrong though, but they don’t know what it is, something with my blood.”
“Oh Chuck. Your Dad and I are on our way. Call us the second you know anything. I love you.”
“Love you too.” I look out through the glass wall and see the doctors and nurses marching too and fro like an army of ants. Dear God, please let me be okay. At this point I notice Dr. Hadley walking furiously towards me. He bursts into my room.
“Okay Chuck, we know what’s wrong.”
“Well, what is it?” I’m almost too terrified to know. Dr. Hadley rubs his face and sighs.
“I’m so sorry to tell you this, but,” he pauses, “you have leukemia

I'm not my own

2008-10-04T13:53:00.000-07:00

"God went back and got the shaking little girl that was hiding under the bed and convinced her to come out. He unclenched her little fists and took her hand and placed it in his and answered her question. He held her and told her it was OK for her not to be tough. He would protect her. She didn’t have to be strong. He told her she wasn’t a rock but a child. His child. He didn’t condemn her for anything but instead understood her and loved her! He told her she was special… like no other and that she had special gifts like no other. She knew His voice and trusted him. She could hear the pleasure He had for her in His voice and felt His delight in her as He talked. He was so gentle and loving she couldn’t help but melt in His arms."
-an excerpt from Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge

I've come to realize that I'm not the same person I was a year ago. I took pride in being tough, no one could break down my barriers. I had the timeline for my future all figured out. I was completely self-sufficient. From the outside I was completely composed and put together, but then my stone facade started to crumble, and here I am.

I'm not even really sure who exactly I'm faced with when I look in the mirror. Experiences change us, and I'm still discovering how they are changing me. I don't know where I'll be in a year, I don't know anything about my future. All I know is that it doesn't matter! I just need to trust, because I am not my own.

I think that is one of the hardest things I've had to learn. I have always been terrified of being abandoned. Terrified of someone saying, you aren't pretty enough, smart enough, you are too much. I do not have time for you. I do not want you. As a little girl and a young woman, my dad is someone that I've always trusted, and that is because he delights in me. I constantly would seek is approval, and ask him, "Dad, do I look pretty? Are you proud of me?" His opinion is the one that carries the most weight in my mind. If my dad loves me that much, and makes me feel that special, then how could I not trust God? "And by the Spirit of adoption we cry Abba, Father"...My Daddy (Rom 8:15).

I'm still discovering parts of who I am, who God made me to be. I am learning to be poor in spirit...poor in my spirit, no longer trying to be self-sufficient, but instead relying on Him. I wish it were easy, but because of my fallen nature, my fear creeps in and wants to start rebuilding those walls, brick by brick. Being vulnerable is extremely frightening. Letting people know I need help is humbling, and against my nature. Amazing, how even after everything, asking people for help is still hard. God loves me though, and continues to try to teach me that lesson.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." (Isaiah 55:8-9)

G's vs. Gents

2008-09-28T12:12:00.000-07:00

I was recently asked by two of my male friends what it was today that we ladies were looking for in a man. So, I've decided to post about it, and I encourage you to please add to it, or, if you are a man, to make your own post of what men are looking for.

I know for me personally, the most important thing is his relationship with God. Not just that he has one, but that he has a passion for the Lord, and that he pursues him as fervently as he would pursue me. Which brings me to number two. Ladies, don't we love to be pursued? It is how God designed us as women. I am very assertive, some might call me bossy ;-) but I want to step back and let a man be a man. I want to encourage him and lift him up, and I hope that in return, he would pursue me in a godly manner and with a passion. Now for all of the other things...

Some girls don't look for this, but for me, I want the man I'm with to be my best friend. The ultimate goal of dating is marriage, and marriage hopefully lasts forever, and I certainly don't want to be stuck with someone forever if they aren't my best friend! It is important that we can make each other laugh, so that there will be smiles daily. So befriend her, because romance is friendship on fire.

Okay gents, listen up...manners are extremely important. Open the door for any woman, not just the girl you are interested in. You would be surprised how many men open a door and walk in first, handing the door to the girl behind them. It is absurd.

Alright, this is a little silly, but necessary...good personal hygiene is not an option. Daily showers. Deodorant. A little hair product here and there (but please don't over do it). As a woman, and a person in general, I exercise and take care of myself, and I'm looking for someone that does the same.

I guess the most important thing is if you care for her, tell her! Don't do so in a selfish manner. Make sure you do really care for her, and that it's not just that pursuing a relationship would make you feel good. Life is too short, and we live in a world where we aren't afraid to tell someone when they've made us angry, but we're terrified to tell someone we care for them as more than a friend. Silly. Tell her, if she rejects you, then she's stupid.

So...there's a short list of a few of the things I think are important. Please let me know your thoughts! Add things, disagree with me...whatev!

God Bless and Peace Out!

I am washed by the water...

2008-09-22T11:46:00.000-07:00

Even when the rain falls, Even when the flood starts risin', Even when the storm comes

I am washed by the water.

-NeedtoBreathe

I went to a Bone Marrow Transplant Survivors Symposium this weekend in Dallas. It was actually kind of nice to be around other people who have gone through the same things I have. I typically avoid meeting other people who have had cancer or a transplant..etc. I started thinking about why, and I realized it's because I never wanted to be put in that box. I didn't want to be classified as the girl who had cancer, because I am so much more than that; however, I had such an amazing time with the other young adults that I met. They are the only ones who can truly understand how hard everything is, not to mention I got to spend time with my gorgeous, 32 yr old, very married doctor.

But on to other things. I found out on Friday that I tested positive for Lupus. It's an auto-immune disease which basically means that my body is attacking itself. Story of my life. I was severely angry when I first heard about it, but if there's one thing I've learned during this past year, it's to trust. How silly of me to get angry and sad, when God is in control of it all. I trust Him, so everything will work out for His good. PLUS! The treatment I'll get for it will actually help all of the random/annoying/frustrating physical things that are going on with me. Fantastic!

Count it all joy, right?

God Bless and Peace Out!

one intern, two intern, red intern, blue intern

2008-09-17T10:38:00.000-07:00

I'm interviewing interns this week, trying to find someone who can help me with the massive load of slush I've got to deal with (Slush: Unsolicited manuscripts submitted to a publishing house. They tend to accumulate into mountainous piles. Thank you, Madeline for def.). Anyway, the first of the four interviews is this afternoon. I'm not really sure what questions to ask her, but I'm sure I'll come up with something.

On another note...perhaps because of my yearlong sabbatical from school, I had forgotten how many late nights it takes to do well in a class (for me anyway). I am preparing for my first round of tests (next week and the week after). Anyway, I am completely exhausted. I've been up past 3 two nights this week, and it's only Wednesday! Oh well, I've been blessed, because my boss is in Vegas this week, so I've had extra time to study/nap. Haha, I think napping has become my favorite activity this semester, napping and Monday night 'The Hills' parties. Okay, enough superficial jib jab. I promise to post an existential-mind-altering-seriously pretentious post soon...or not.

God Bless and Peace Out!

problems...

2008-09-15T21:05:00.000-07:00

Well, I've decided to start blogging again. I took a break for about a year from my personal blog while I managed the cancer one. I think I'm about done with that. Health issues will continue to go up there, but I'm feeling the need to get back into the blogosphere.

God has blessed me with an empathetic heart, and people often tell me their problems. What I have found recently is that when someone starts to tell me their story or issue, whatever the case may be, it is usually followed with, "I know this isn't as bad as anything that happened to you, but..." or "I'm so sorry for constantly talking to you about this when you've been through so much..." Okay, I want to put this out there once and for all. Yes, I went through something difficult for me, but everything is relative. We all have our own limits. Things are scary, and just because someone perceives my life experiences as somehow worse than what they are going through doesn't mean that I see it that way, or that that is even the case. So please, continue to bring your problems to me so that I can pray for you and be a better friend. I certainly will never fault you for being upset. I love spending one on one time with people and having them share their hearts with me, so please, let me love on you and don't feel as if your problems aren't significant, because they are.

God Bless and Peace Out!