Remembering Grandma Eunice

It's been a little over two years, but here I am again: sitting in what was my grandparents' home, knowing one is no longer alive. This time, it's my dad's mother, Eunice, but a different situation.

She had been slowly slipping away for several years. Dementia and Alzheimer's disease are jerks like that. It's been at least six years since I had a real conversation with her. Even that visit to Michigan was pretty rough. After answering the same question about 20 times, I started having fun with it. I may have told her I lived on the moon and on the ocean floor, knowing she wouldn't remember the answer in 15 minutes.

Grandpa laughed, but we all knew how hard it was on him to see his wife deteriorating like that. At one point, I was sitting at the table with both of them and she shared something nonsensical. Grandpa sighed, shook his head, and softly said, "Such a shame to lose such a beautiful mind." The sadness in his voice in that moment was something I don't know that I'll ever forget.

The last time I saw her at all was three years ago. At the time, the doctors didn't think Grandpa was going to make it, so the nursing home brought her back to the house. By that point, she wasn't able to talk much. She mostly sat in silence, and frequently confused her yes and no answers. It was hard to see.

However, I did get to see Grandma and Grandpa hold hands and stare at each other. They were both struggling with their health, but their love was stronger. 

When I went into that trip, I knew going in that it would most likely be the last time I saw Grandpa alive, and it was. Part of me also knew it would be the last time I saw Grandma, if only to preserve the memory of who she was, not the disease that dragged her away.

Was it selfish of me? Probably. 

But let me tell you about the woman I remember, because a good chunk of her personality is reflected in who I am now. 

I grew up hearing that I was just like Eunice. The unfortunate thing is, I thought it was a bad thing for many years. That phrase generally came after I had been sassy, bossy, or stubborn. (You know, those traits parents don't want their child to develop until after they've moved out, but are really inevitable when your firstborn is a redhead.) It wasn't until I heard Grandpa sigh about what was slipping away that I realized, he meant it as a good thing.

Grandma also frequently told me I was just like her. I really wish I paid more attention to the stories of her younger years which she shared when I exhibited something she fully understood. Unfortunately, those things fell on deaf young ears. 

Before I left for college, she gave me a little decorative pillow that I still have today. The gold embroidery on the cream cover said, "I'm not bossy. I just have better ideas." A smile stretched across her face when she gave it to me, saying it described her too, but I needed it to warn my roommates of what they were dealing with. 

It really hit me in her final months just how tough she was. She fought her way out of the hospital after a seizure and a serious heart attack. When my mom told me that they didn't think she'd make it through the night, I didn't think it was real because I'd heard that so many times before. She amazed the doctors with her strength and how long she was able to fight the odds. 

Being compared to someone like that? Well, that's pretty high praise. 

In a world where women are constantly told who they are supposed to be, she didn't care about stifling her strength to meet other people's ideals. She was fierce and fabulous, and told me it was ok to be so too. There's no doubt Eunice was a handful, but people loved her for it and in spite of it. 

I never doubted Grandma's love for me. She proudly and repeatedly told me that I got my red hair from her mother. We spent countless hours doodling on and cutting up piles of poster board. She was far more fashionable than me, so there were the shopping trips where she spoiled me rotten in an effort to fix that flaw. I'll never forget the day she bought what I called my "Rockstar INXS" outfit: a one-shouldered black shirt with a giant silver clasp, and jeans with hot pink stitching and studs lining the legs. (Don't judge. I was obsessed with the show and she just wanted me to be happy.) She made sure my dorm room towels matched my bedding. She sent me $5 every week during college to make sure I ate on Sunday nights when the dining center was closed. She tried to teach me to play piano, even learning a ZOEgirl song she'd never heard because it was the one I picked.

Now, she gets to sing all those hymns straight to Jesus. If there was anything she loved more than her family, it was God.

I'm glad she's free from fighting just to stay with those she loved so dearly. Eunice Marie was a spunky, unique woman, and she will be greatly missed.

Blindsided (AKA: The Devil Is A Jerkfaced Toolbag Who Needs To Go Away)

To say last week was rough is the understatement of the century. There were a ton of small things that left me frustrated, but the two things left me barely hanging on. Considering what was happening at the church over the weekend, there is only one reason for it. The devil is trying to distract me so I'll lose my footing.

The first blindside attack happened on Thursday. I had just told someone in class that I was going to skip my (free) Cirque De Soleil tickets to go to the Dustin Smith concert. When I walked out of class, I heard a very familiar voice, squealing what at first sounded like my name (and later realized it was someone else's name.) Right out side of the school stood my ex boyfriend/best friend.... the one I haven't talked to in two months, and since letting go, my life started falling into place.

Seeing his face was like a punch in the gut.

I'm not going to lie and say I kept my cool. I most certainly did not.

With nowhere to go, I ended up all but running to my car. I sat there for about 10 minutes, unable to breathe and trying not to puke. I was mad no one warned me. I was mad he was back in town at all. I was freaking out that I wasn't ready to be anywhere near him, considering the pattern of the past year. I am finally in a good place, and boom, I'm struggling to stay on my feet again.

I texted my battle buddies who know the situation, and thank God for those women! They all basically said the same thing. I'm on the right path, so distractions, destruction and tests are going to pop up. Jacque and I have had several conversations about how we were both on a loop where we'd get close to where we are supposed to be, but we'd screw up and have to take another lap, but lately, we've been taking the exits to keep moving forward. This was one of the forks in the road where I could jump back on the crazy loop or take the exit toward the good life. It's something Heather reminded me of as well, saying "don't fall into old traps." That reminded me of Patty praying for me the week before, specifically breaking old patterns. Rhonda called me and reminded me that this is my home and domain, and as such, I have the authority in this atmosphere. Right then, I decided that his presence was not going to get in my way.

Was it easy? Absolutely not. I both wanted to do something hurtful and yet make sure he's ok. It's a complicated feeling, but I now have the strength to stay away, knowing he's not part of my journey now. I took the exit instead of staying on the destructive loop. I questioned everything and had to push past some major bitterness and walls. (More on that momentarily.) Throughout the Thursday concert and Friday sessions of the conference, I constantly turned it over to God and kept reminding myself of the joy in my life right now and that he was not going to steal it.

But then came the major blindside.

In the middle of night service, they announced that my dear friend Jill had passed away.

I was running camera toward the front of the church, so I tried to keep it together, but failed. Dozens of people stared at me while tears streamed down my face until someone came to take over the camera. I joined a group of women in the foyer, holding each other and crying. Jill meant so much to us. I cried all night at work. I still cry about it. It still doesn't seem real that Jill is gone.

I met Jill at the beginning of my first actual service at World Revival Church. She was sitting in front of me, turned around and said, "You're new!" She immediately added me on facebook and told me that she felt like I belonged here. She had no idea that I had applied for jobs in other states that very morning.

Those first few weeks and months, Jill sent me updates on when services were, offering rides and saving seats whenever I could go. She introduced me to people who are now very dear friends and made sure I felt welcome and connected.

Jill was an amazing source of encouragement through all the ups and downs over the past (almost) two years. She supported my journey through ministry school. She pushed me write more whenever there was a gap in blog posts and reminded ever so often that I should start on that book. She was there for me the day of the crazy fight to make sure I was ok on all levels. I told her I felt like I needed to get a passport and she nagged me about taking steps toward it for a year. I never told her I had finally filed for it, and it arrived the same day she left the earth.

After leaving the church Friday night, I heard a song on the radio I have only ever heard on the pre/post service playlist called "Wake" by Hillsong: Young & Free. Whenever it came on at church and I was around Jill, I'd always do some crazy weird dance and she would say something along the lines of, "you know I love you since I'm still standing here while you do that." I broke down in tears hearing it on the radio, knowing I'll never be able to dance with her again and decided to play it on my show in her memory. Then, Saturday night, we had an amazing worship service. [Minor story detour: There were about three people between me and my ex. During "Spirit Break Out" I really felt like God was saying to let the bitterness go. I was still pretty upset that he was there, and had to remind myself that I control the atmosphere. We've been pushing for unity of faith and spirit, so his being there couldn't get in the way of the goal. I fought my way through it, and prayed for him. He was here for the conference for a reason, and hopefully that means he is getting help and healing too. I can't hold on to a grudge and be healed, and neither can he. Kingdom has to come first, and there was such a weight lifted during that song.] The worship set ended with "Wake." I'd never heard it live in church before either, so it hit me right in the feels. I grabbed another friend of Jill's who was nearby and said that she was with us in spirit. Instead of just crazy dancing with Jill, I let go and went full blown worship rage dance. There was so much healing in that moment, jumping around to a song that I connect with Jill, surrounded by a dancing group who also loved her and were grieving her loss,

There is a line in that song that really hit me during that moment of moshing. The song says "You're in my heart forever," which is true of this situation and reminded me of conversations with several other people. In sharing about how we met Jill and who she was to us, a couple strong women in my life said that we need to step up and fill her role. Jill saw people, not just in the physical, but she saw potential. Once she noticed the future in someone, she didn't let go. She loved people and went out of her way to care for them. She had a true servant's heart. Now we all need to step up and fill the void she left.

Honestly, I'm still struggling with how little time I spent with her over the past few months. My withdrawal from the world kept me isolated from her, followed by diving back in head first and having very little free time kept us apart lately. She had facebook messaged the group that morning, but I was at work and never responded. That haunts me. Several people have individually told me not to let that voice of guilt take root. She loved me and knew that this season of being on the right path again involves a heavy load. Our last conversation was Easter Sunday after I fell asleep a couple times in service and decided to go home. She was on camera, so we had a quick hug and she told me to get some rest and we'd see each other later. I just never made that happen.

I have so many memories with Jill... from her surprise birthday party, to helping me move in a heat advisory, to Catch Phrase on Christmas, to being on media, to just chatting at a restaurant. She didn't just tolerate my weirdness, she enjoyed it. Even though she loved Ohio State and the Cardinals, while I'm a Michigan and Tigers girl (which we debated frequently), we could look past our differences and still get along (yes, that sounds crazy, but the UM/OSU rivalry runs deep, y'all.) If I had a bad day, she would sneak a pack of Oreos into my car/ my saved seat at church/ leave them outside my apartment, even though she often lectured me about my ridiculously unhealthy sugar addiction.

I still keep waiting for her to sneak up on me at church and smack or kick me in the butt. I keep waiting to hear a story that starts and ends with "God is so cool." I miss my friend dearly, but I know she is in a better place. Jill brought us together in the first place, and the group hadn't been together as much as in the past, but she is bringing us all together again. We will get through this together, no matter what distractions the devil throws at us. The last thing she would want for her friends is for them to be distracted by an attack from the devil, especially one involving her.

We love you, Jill.

Sinking Ships and Taking Care Of Myself... For Once

This isn't the most spiritual of posts, but whatever. It's my life and I'm going through a revival of sorts.

There is a point where you have to let go or you die; the point where if you bend any more, you'll break.

I finally hit the point where my extreme stubbornness bowed in order to stay alive.

It's strange. Nine days ago, I was crying on the phone to my best friend about feeling like there wasn't a drop of life left in me; there was nothing worth saving. I thought I was done then, but it only got worse. It took a couple of calls in the middle of the night and some intensely emotional writing for me to realize that this situation isn't ok.

4 a.m. writings --

A girl can only be dragged on a roller coaster so many times before she gets sick.
A girl can only survive getting punched in the gut so many times before it causes internal damage.
A girl can only bleed so much for another soul so much before it kills her.
I'm tired of feeling like I'm dead.
Rebuilding yourself is exhausting. It's worse when every time you start piecing together Legos as fragile legs under yourself so you can start standing again, someone comes along and kicks them out from underneath you.

That was when I made the decision to cut my best friend out of my life.

Why on earth would I distance myself from the one person who understands my quirks more than anyone, and actually enjoys them? The inconsistency is toxic. Over the past year, we've gone through more periods of not speaking for various reasons than I care to count. Every time we'd split, it tore me up. We'd try again and both feel better until being forced apart again. The hurt just kept getting deeper with each rip. They weren't clean and little pieces of the past caused issues to fester under the surface, and I'm sure there is more to it than I even realize. I can't keep walking into bear traps, knowing I'm going to lose a limb. I have to protect what little is left.

Two old friends reached out to me out of the blue that day and said the same thing. "You have to take care of yourself first." They pointed out that I can't really care for people when I'm empty. One of my teachers said that people coming against her only works when she's at a deficit internally. Just like it is easier to knock over an empty bottle instead of one filled with water, attacks do more damage when you are empty and weak. That's what made the separations hurt so much. I was empty of everything good, and didn't have the strength to see past the clutter of the now.

That's all changing.

I'm working to get back on the right track again. It's funny how fast it comes back. Peace and joy are increasing in me because I know this is the right thing to do. I'm reconnecting with God and with things I enjoy but didn't have time for. For the most part, I feel better. 

I have discovered one pesky issue through this whole thing. It was ok for them to block me repeatedly throughout the past year when they needed space, but when that I took control in the same way, they lashed out and said we are done for good. (Yes, I missed some paths. There are too many, nowadays.) It highlighted a pattern from our past: control. I could list several examples of times I thought we should or shouldn't do something and was met with resistance and caved. Some time later, we would change stances on the same issue and I would cave again. I totally understand the power struggle that was involved, but it doesn't make it less annoying now to realize I basically let a child control my life. I don't mean that negatively, because there is a bit of an age difference. That aspect showed in the temper tantrum that followed my decision. Of course, that sent me spiraling back into the mode trying to comfort and fix the situation. I felt manipulated, which only made me angrier. Our ship didn't just sink; it went down in flames.

Now don't get me wrong, I still care deeply about this person. I would do anything for them. I would give anything, including my life, to help them. I hope they understand that depth, even after everything. I loved spoiling them and taking care of them because of the big, dopey grins and high pitched squeaks following a surprise. Despite the very deep lows, many of my happiest moments from the year were when we were hanging out together. We didn't even have to do anything and I was content.

Therein lies the biggest problem. We didn't do anything.

For some reason I still don't understand, we stopped pushing each other to be better. Instead, we pulled laziness and rebellion out of each other. Church became rare. We worked, slept and watched tv together. People tried to tell us that we were heading toward destruction, but oh well, we were happy in our bubble doing what we wanted. Losing opportunities sucked, but that didn't even really force a change. Things were comfortable between us, so why bother adjusting? We both had traumas from our past that we hadn't dealt with. I wanted to help, but how could I drag someone through the mud when I was stuck too? There were cracks in our foundation and it was only a matter of time before we crumbled. It could've been something great, but we were dumb.

I'm not going to take their route and smash the whole institution. There was a lot of really great things that happened because of our connection. I learned more about myself and a deeper meaning of loving another person. I grew let down walls I didn't know I had. I softened, and I'm trying to not let that slip back into hardness. I believe they grew too, and hope they can still see there was a value and purpose for this year. 

I honestly do miss who we were in the beginning, though. I got a glimpse of that person nine days ago. When I was crying about how worthless I felt, they threatened to "bop" me on the head to get me to think straight and tried to convince me of my worth. That was before the falling out, so maybe that isn't the case anymore. 

Either way, I still see the good in them. I can't help it come to the surface or take away the pain that's burying it, but I know that good is there. More than anything, I hope they find peace with the past and joy in the future. There are still moments I have to fight not to run back and try to repair things for them, but I can't. I have to take care of myself before there is nothing left. I'm of no use when I'm that empty, and I don't ever want to get to this point again.

It's time to begin again.

"Another day, another worry breaks right through

And indecision bleeds me dry

She's painting pictures I'm not making for her

And she's got a vision without me in mind

I can't believe you."

   - "Hands on Deck" by Waking Ashland

Letting Go And Letting God

To say this past week started out on a sour note is putting it lightly.

I won't say what happened, since even the most vague of explanations would imply who else was involved, and I don't want it to be any more distracting than the situation already is. Just embrace the fact that I was in a total ginger rage for a couple days. It probably didn't help that I worked a ton and barely ate during that time. (Like, I'm talking 4 Oreos and 5 pretzels in nearly 40 hours kind of not eating.)

But then, along came Wednesday.

I was so excited to get through the day, and finally have two days off in a row. I got in my car, and it wouldn't start. Womp womp. The series of events that followed were frustrating, yet absolutely hilarious (and too long to include.) In the end, it took four journalists and a gallon of gas to not only get my car started, but to start shaking off the grump that had overtaken my week.

During my break at my part-time job, I decided to catch up on the One Year Bible reading I started with some friends, but seriously slacked off. The first day I went through included Proverbs 5:12-14, which says, "You will say, “How I hated discipline! If only I had not ignored all the warnings. Oh, why didn’t I listen to my teachers? Why didn’t I pay attention to my instructors? I have come to the brink of utter ruin, and now I must face public disgrace.” It really got under my skin because of the situation. Those most directly involved, including myself, were given instruction, advice, and warnings. We acknowledged that most of it made sense. But, yet, we ignored it. Ignoring the warning ended up carrying a heavy price and became a distraction to the public around us. The annoyance of the whole thing was also trying to turn into anger and bitterness, but I know I can't let that take hold.

So, I did the only thing left to do in the situation: let go and give it to God. I can't waste my time worrying about the situation. I am still concerned for those involved because I do care about them, but I can't let the problem become the focus of my life. Yes, the situation still bugs me and gets under my skin, but I had to let as much go as I could before it made things worse.

Thursday, I spent the day off doing things I keep saying I'm going to do. I joined a gym, went for a walk in the sunshine, spent time with a friend, cleaned my car and apartment, read my Bible, did my hair and went to prayer service. Friday, I went to a work meeting, hit the gym again, had a great lunch and chat with a friend, and started trying new things. As simple as it is, trying something different, like red lipstick and different hair products, on top of working out really helped to shift my mood. More time in the Bible was changing my perspective. I was on camera Friday night, so I only caught part of it, but Pastor Kathy preached on the goodness of God. It reminded me, again, to stop looking at the problem. Stop looking at the hurt. Focus on the bigger picture. This situation is only temporary, but God's goodness is permanent. Whatever happens and comes next will be good because that's what he promised. Psalm 27:13 says, "Yet I am confident I will see the Lord's goodness while I am here in the land of the living."

I'm still living so there is still goodness ahead. I'm trying to focus on the good happening around me every day, like going to Planet Comicon, meeting one of my favorite authors, and getting free ice cream. There are still moments I am bummed or angry, but they are more spaced out now. I refuse to let the enemy distract me and get me off track,

School starts tomorrow, so it's time to buckle down and get focused again.

Don't Be Shaken

The struggle is real.

I don't know how many times I've clicked on "new post" or opened my journal but nothing makes it onto the page. It's not like nothing is happening. January was a whirlwind month on so many levels, but nothing would come out. I even started this post a week ago and just never could finish it. I've tried so many times, I don't remember where I was going with it, so I'm just going to let it be and move on.

Maybe it's the weight of everything that happened and the words spoken that's made it hard to write about. I've felt like some big change is on its way for a little while, and that was really confirmed over the past two weeks. As I started writing this, I was streaming service from World Revival Church. Pastor Steve Gray just mentioned preparing by getting passports, which has been on my mind for a while. This is on the heels of Pastor Steve declaring at the women's conference, "The lion has roared" and Autumn really pushing the students to be more disciplined, eliminate options, and to know who we are so we won't be shaken.

Right now feels like the shakedown. So many of my friends and I have been fighting through a myriad of struggles and attacks. It sucks that it is all at the same time. It makes us harder to be there for each other when we have our own problems. It pulls us out of community, which is one of the places we draw strength. That is to be expected since we have an enemy who wants to destroy us. He isn't going to make things easy for us in the slightest. But we will overcome because Yahweh is with us. A couple things Autumn said in class last Friday that stood out were, "If it's too hard, you haven't grabbed a hold of the strength of the Lord and you are doing it wrong" and, "If you've decided who you are and who your trust is in, you will not be shaken." Of course, that night, Pastor Eric introduced a new song with the line, "shake everything that can be shaken." The classmate I sat with and I could not get through the line without giggling. (Of course, as I wrap this post up, the church is singing it again.) Pastor Tom's sermon hit on a lot of the major points from the week's classes, affirming everything we had been talking about. Something big is coming... the season is changing. But in order to get to the change, we have to fight to hold on... fight to stand our ground. We will not be shaken.

Distract and Attack

I started writing this post about distractions three weeks ago. Guess what happened. I got distracted every single time I started working on it. Granted, life has been pretty intense, but the irony is not lost. After questioning sharing my last post because of self-doubt, then seeing the impact it had on so many makes me think I was distracted because someone else out there needs this message as much as I did.

Those who know me in person know I have a pretty strong case of ADOS, which is attention deficit, oooh shiny! One little thing can set me off on a long string of stories or missions. While moving over the past couple weeks, I'd start packing one thing, but completely get distracted by something else and end up with nothing done. That really sucked when my friends showed up to move things and I wasn't packed... #fail.

The whole thought on distractions started when I went to a Christian rock concert featuring Red and Demon Hunter. Their opening band, Veridia, blew me away with what lyrics I could make out in the craziness of a live show. I left the show in the middle of Red's performance to go to work, where I played Veridia's EP "Inseparable" and could hear the words more clearly. This section of "Mechanical Planet" got my attention.

"So I'll distract you.

I will attack you,

And keep you focused on me.

I'll make you fall in love with deception.

You won't know what to believe."

Later on, the song brings up distractions again with a powerful point.

"The truth is

I'll work day and night

To keep the gears grinding in your mind,

To keep you from knowing you are worth more than gold,

Not some assembly-line, rusted shell of a person that I try to remote-control.

I never want you to believe

That when you're down on your knees

That someone is actually listening.

If you are undistracted for even a moment,

I'll lose my hold,

And you would notice that you have never been alone.

Never have you ever fought alone.

Never have you ever fought alone."

I hadn't really thought of distractions as an attack, but it makes sense. How many times a day do we miss getting something done because we walked into a room and saw something else that needed to be done. If you are anything like me, it is quite a few.

The next night at church, Pastor Kathy preached on hindrances and the schemes of the devil. I was running camera and not fully paying attention to the sermon, but I caught enough to know she was talking about distractions. I got the CD and it took several tries to get all the way through it. Again, with the irony! In the message, PK defined distractions as anything that takes your focus off the Kingdom of God.

This comes into play because we are in a spiritual battle all the time. Ephesians 6:12 says, "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." When you wrestle someone, you don't go into it trying to lose. You find your opponent's weakness and try to exploit it. That's exactly what the devil does to us. As PK said, "We wrestle something smarter and meaner."

The difference is, the devil isn't distracted. He is focused on his purpose to destroy us. PK said, "The devil doesn't hope to hinder us. The devil plans on it." So many times, we focus on the material problems in our lives instead of the spiritual battles. Like the song says, when we are distracted and focusing on the little issues in our lives, we forget that the Holy Spirit is there to help us fight. We are not in this alone.


But this poses an interesting question: What could we do if we were focused on the Kingdom of God and not our earthly issues? If there is something in the way, it needs to go. There are so many things that can distract us in this world. Social media, TV, movies, work, friends, school, family, etc. I'm guilty of it all. There have been so many times lately where I sit there and think, "I should read my Bible," yet I lay in bed or sit on my break scrolling through a Facebook, Instagram or Twitter feed waiting on someone to post something new. Seriously, wasting time on absolutely nothing. It's time to work on weeding out those distractions so we can move forward together. Fighting against the devil's plan to hinder our mission for God won't be easy, but it will be worth it.