That She May Have Hope

Dust swarms like bees
Sun meets Earth
A scorching manifest of heat

She walks
Her sari in her hand;
A water pot upon her head

She breathes
In
Out
A child at her heels

Survival of the fittest
A lame man begs
Women pass her
Tired and weak

Poverty blankets the land
Tents in slums
The dying, abused, forgotten
No hope to be found

She presses on in vibrant colors
And dim prospects

Her soul thirsts for more
Her child hungry and in need
Of a future filled with something
Besides grief

She presses on.

Will you share hope with her?

If not you, who?

Contentment & Grace

     When you live in a one-bedroom apartment, alone time is pretty much non-existent. Amaya is resting soundly in our shared bedroom and Matt is asleep on the couch. Even the dog is down for an afternoon nap. I've grabbed up the computer and nestled in with my back against the bathtub and chosen to write while I have the chance. For days now, I have felt the need to write and get something off of my chest. I haven't done so yet because I haven't quiet known what it has been that's been pulling on my heart. I can't even assure you what direction this is going in, but stick with me and we'll get there together. 

    We live in one of the most expensive areas in the entire country. That's right, one of the top wealthiest areas in the United States. The houses are grand and the cars are new. The people are busy and the sense of community is a hard one to find.. Matt and I have been on a money-saving spree since last May when we decided to downsize from a four-bedroom house (rental) to a one-bedroom apartment. We sold most of what we had and minimized money that we spent on everything from essentials like groceries to non-essential coffee and frozen yogurt outings. It has been a challenge living in a small space with our 15-month old daughter, but we put up some cheery photos and made the space a home. We exist in a way that other people in this area do not, at least the majority.

    Saving money hasn't gone as planned. It turns out that while we have saved money in rent, we are still shelling out for debt each month. Interest rates have risen and we have found ourselves living from paycheck to paycheck some weeks and even months at a time. I don't bring you into the intimate details of our finances for the sake of transparency, but rather to set the stage for a lesson that I have recently learned: being gracious to myself is the beginning of being able to extend grace to others.

    You see, a large portion of our debt is my fault essentially. I began a college degree that I never finished. At the time, I was extremely unhealthy and school work was draining me of all of the resources I had left. I quit my degree in hopes of finding out a diagnosis and getting well enough to start thinking about starting a family. By the time that I withdrew from school, I had suffered a seizure and had fallen behind in both classes. I felt peace about ending my time as a student. Within a few months, the loan payments began and they still loom over us like a dark cloud. Without those student loans, we would have financial freedom to get on track and get our heads above water. All of these are things that I thought...until recently.

   I realized the other night while talking to Matt, that I have carried around so much "false guilt" over the student loans. There was so much emotion that came out when I talked about it. I have felt like I'm holding us back from our dream of adoption just because of my health being out of my control those years ago when I withdrew from school. I have taken on a burden that wasn't mine to carry. Now, not having grace for ourselves seems like a harmless act. At the end of the day, we're the only ones that suffer, right? It's okay to beat ourselves up. It's alright to let one self-deprecating thought melt into another and another. Well, that isn't true at all. In fact, it's what we allow in our own minds that determines our value of ourselves and our value of other people. You see, I wasn't able to be compassionate to the highest degree with others because my own thought pattern mirrored those that asked me for advice. How could I say, "You shouldn't beat yourself up over this." when I doubted my own value and wasn't reflecting those truths in my own life.

   We live in an area that seems to swallow us up financially, but what about those that literally live on one dollar a day? We have exceedingly more than they do and living in a one-bedroom apartment seems like a dream come true. Writing from the bathroom instead of a beautiful home office is a privilege compared to how our circumstances could be. Having student loan debt means that I have had some education--far  more than most girls and women in the world have access to. "Paying off debt" means that we have the money to pay our bills every month. I hope and pray that this "lesson" of sorts that I am learning--being content in the moment and having grace for myself--is something that I hold close for a long time.

   I don't know what your current circumstances are, but I am sure that there is probably a burden (or two) that you're needlessly carrying. Perhaps you are blaming yourself for something that was beyond your control. Maybe you can't extend grace to yourself in a situation. It's possible that you're broken and you're discontent with whatever circumstance that you face--lift your head high and know that the same grace you extend to others needs to be extended to yourself. Contentment & grace are two beautiful things. I trust that they will both find you.

  

You Are Always Thinking of Me

   This morning, I had a rare peaceful moment to myself. Usually, Amaya and I wake at the same time and it's a mad dash to get her changed, fed, myself fed, and then whatever issues arise that have to be tended to. I woke up bright and early this morning and headed into the kitchen. I whipped up some banana walnut muffins from a package and preheated the oven. Then, I groggily just stood there wondering what to do next. The rarity of time alone first thing in the morning made me feel like "the world is my oyster" so to speak. I pulled a small notebook out of my over sized purse and a Walgreen's pen. I sat down and began to write. Usually, when I write I have an idea that sparks and I just go with it. This morning, I started to write before that happened and I was pleasantly surprised at the result. I wrote a little note to God.

    Now, if there's anything that I have learned over the past few years of trials it has been that it's perfectly acceptable for me to see God through my own lens. I used to feel so much pressure to relate to God in the way that others saw Him. As a result, I always felt as if I was falling short. Going through tough stuff has been a blessing in disguise, really. It has allowed me to tap in to my own relationship with God in a way that I never would have. I soon realized that letting go of my false version of God and allowing myself to relate to Him in my own way was what He wanted for me in the first place. I have been able to set religion aside and in turn, have something authentic.

    My note this morning had to do with letting stress subside and trusting that God will meet our financial needs that we have at the moment. That is what I wrote about, but the subject of trust ran deeper for me. Most people may see God as a Father figure, but to be honest, I never have. I realize that there are loads of verses where God refers to us as His children and to Himself as Father. As someone that comes from a broken home, though, referring to God as Father always made me feel like I was set up for disappointment. I worked through those issues and later reconciled with my father and also have a wonderful relationship with my step-father.  Still, though, I just don't see God through the lens of being my Father. I relate most to God through nature.

    There hasn't been one occasion when I stood on a beach and looked out at the vast ocean that I didn't think of God's endless love. It never fails. I've never looked at the sun slowly set over the mountains and not thought about the fact that God's grace is vibrant in a dark world. I've been waist high in snow before as fresh snow fell on me and reflected on God's ability to make things new and pure. Spring reminds me of His fresh starts while Summer reminds me of the warmth of His love for me. Autumn and Winter bring to light His beauty in the midst of harsh conditions. Moss hanging from the trees in Georgia reveals to me His attention to detail while the mountains of Tennessee show me His majesty. Our daughter Amaya reminds me that God is gentle and kind. I could go on and on...

   This morning, as I wrote my stress to paper and felt the overwhelming urge to vent what I have been feeling for the past few months, my note ended much differently than I thought it would. I simply wrote, God, you are always thinking of me. I was surprised by that final sentence. I looked outside at the pouring rain and saw something new about God's character--the fact that He refreshes my heart when I need it most.

All that remains

         I knelt down on the closet floor and began to rummage my way through the storage bin. It had been packed hurriedly--an array of photos, picture frames, and loose random papers were spilling over the brim. I grabbed handfuls of photos and flipped through them--his face racing by me in sepia, black and white, and colored Polaroid prints.

        The television in the other room blared out promises of clearer skin and fulfillment from ninety-nine cent cheeseburgers. I placed the stack of photos back and lifted the contents of the bin as far up as I could without dropping it and making too much noise. I looked under the raised pile for any notebooks or envelopes addressed to me. There wasn't anything but a cheap key chain and a University of Tennessee flag that had once been tacked up to his bedroom wall.

       I stood up quickly and dusted myself off. Even nearly five years after his death, I had forgotten how dirty of a task it was to dig up memories and souvenirs of the past. Stirring up that thin layer of dust on my heart had made my eyes burn with the threat of tears.

      I walked out of his bedroom empty handed. My plan to leave with any letters smuggled under my shirt had failed. I knew my grandmother would have happily given me anything that I had found, but I was embarrassed that even after all of these years I was still searching for him. I had hoped that I would discover a letter he had written me years before. The truth was, though, that I had all of the letters he had written me packed away in a box under my bed. I had found them one by one on the day of his death while we cleaned out his room. They were scattered across his room--behind his dresser, in his notebook, addressed on his nightstand. Some were half-written; some made sense while others were inky fragments of dementia pieced together by good intentions and confessions.

       So, that was it., I thought. Those are the only words of permanence he left me. I remembered that each letter could be summed up in three words: I love you. I smiled, wiped the dust from my eyes and resolved to make my own words beautiful because one day, that will be all that is left of me.     

Love Today

    It was the way that the August breeze engulfed her senses. The warm summer air would wrap around her and the humidity would linger for a while making her sundress stick to her skin. She stretched out beneath the clear blue sky as she studied the clouds through sepia toned lenses. The world seemed untouched when she was in nature, away from the hustle and bustle of the thousands and their agendas. The tall oak beside her cast its shadow between the golden sun and lush green grass. The branches stretched silhouettes over her like long skinny fingers picking at her dress and brushing at her hair. She exhaled, closed her eyes and relaxed into a sweet sleep.

   The earthy-sweet smell of lavender tickled her nose and she woke up with a long sigh. She had been covered up by a thin antique quilt and a mason jar of lavender sat beside her with a cream colored envelope that read "Love Today". She sat up and looked around to see if anyone was around. Then, she became unsettled that someone had been near her while she was sleeping. She looked to her left, and then to the right--no one was there. She took the note in her hand and stood as her cotton sundress fell down below her knees and the strap off of her right shoulder. She did a small circle, cupped her hand over her eyes and looked out as far as she could see. Still, no one was there.

    She took the old quilt and dragged it over to the tree, spread it out sleepily. The tree, peppered with bright green moss and small ants became a desk of sorts as she laid on her stomach and opened the letter against the tree's surfaced roots.The penmanship, more like an elaborate calligraphy from the past, was beautiful. The letter read,

         My Lovely, 

                       Yes, you are lovely. Do you truly know that? Do you know it in your heart with every bit of assurance? 

                     Today, there are many things to do. There are bills to pay and appointments to keep. There's a "to do" list waiting for you and an abundance of obligations that you must make. Don't forget to check in on those you love and be there for those that love you. I cannot even begin to stress to you the importance of...

                     Wait. I just wrote that you are lovely. I just put pen to paper and explained that I want you to know in your heart with every bit of assurance that you are adored. I want you to truly understand that. So, allow me to remind you of what is important. That list of obligations--that's what you hold yourself to. 

                   Today, you may not be able to meet those obligations. It's possible that you will wake up not feeling well. Appointments will have to be canceled and you may have to ask for help with that "to do" list. You may be able to complete one task, and even that may not be done to your satisfaction. Is that okay? Do you still know that you are lovely? Are you able to look at yourself in the mirror and see yourself for who you are and not what you can do? Do you have a sense of accomplishment even if all you can do today is dress yourself and care for yourself? Is life still beautiful even when it is not filled with your tasks of busyness and success?

                   Is the life that you have enough? When you compare yourself to everyone else and you feel like a failure in their shadow, are you living like you are lovely? When your opinion of yourself is built with your sense of failures and your lack of love for yourself--then you will not see that you are loved and valued. When you measure a day's worth in what you can accomplish and not in the extraordinary beauty of life itself then you will never truly live. 

                You are more than what even you can see. You are not broken despite a body that may be. You are lovely and I can't wait until you can see it for yourself. Until then, love today and love others like I have loved you. 

              xx

       A soft roll of thunder vibrated behind the clouds. Then, the rain came. The drops began one by one and then fell into a steady flow. She winced in her sleep in anticipation of the rain falling on her face. Nothing happened. With her eyes closed, she stretched and let out a sigh. The smell of lavender was gone. She opened her eyes and found that she was lying in her queen size bed beneath her orange duvet, not an antique quilt. She rolled over and patted the mattress and then scanned her nightstand--there wasn't a letter in sight. The pain in her joints and muscles flooded back and she was instantly aware that it had all been a dream. Despite her pain, she smiled--it had been the most beautiful dream she had ever had. She reached over to the notepad and pen, drew a line through her entire "to do" list, and wrote the one task she knew she could accomplish for the day: love today.

A Compilation of Moments

            
               Matt and I drove through a storm on our way home Tuesday evening. I got Amaya out of her carseat and headed up the four flights of stairs. I rounded the corner of the first flight and stopped in my tracks. The most beautiful double rainbow that I had ever seen arched across the stormy sky. I stood there and silently took in the moment. I breathed in deeply and for the first time all day I was still. My mind wasn't wandering and my body wasn't preoccupied with duties and plans. I was awestruck by such a gorgeous moment; revived in the silence of routine coming to a halt. Matt came up behind me. "What is it?" he asked. I pointed to the sky, "Shhh.." I whispered. We stood there in silence for a minute. Stillness.

               As we looked at those vibrant colors stretched across the same sky that the entire world shared, I came to the conclusion that life is a compilation of beautiful moments. My heart grew sad because I wondered how many beautiful moments that I routinely miss due to busyness and an apathetic heart. If there's anything that I want to learn, it's to be still and take life in through deep breaths and appreciation.


             I will be writing a weekly blog for those of you that want to join me in the journey of being still. I believe that stillness will actually take us further than we realize. I'm unsure of how many weeks this blog will last or in what direction I am going in, but the details aren't important right now. I'll be writing with an open heart and in the end that's all that matters.

  REFLECT:
   
    -This week, search for moments that are "spectacular" in the midst of the "mundane". Meditate on those moments or journal about them.

   - What keeps you from being still? Routine? Anxiety? Reflect on those reasons and look for ways to turn your distractions in to opportunity.  

Nikki xx

Pearls for a Gypsy

   I've been on a journey recently. Like always, my mind has been going in a million different directions. It looks like I'm chopping zucchini for dinner, but I'm off somewhere contemplating the meaning of life (To love and to be loved? To give without seeking anything in return? To help as many people as possible on this sphere we call home? To help one person with all of my heart as if they were my life's work? To be a mom with all of my heart and soul? To  create a lasting memory so beautiful that joy itself finds joy in the magic of it? To live simply?) and playing the never ending game of connect the dots with the events that have shaped my life. (Hmm...if that wouldn't have happened then would I be where I am today?)


  I remember being really contemplative early on. While other kids were having their Kool-Aid and Fritos binge on the playground, I was usually in mid-thought about Heaven and if the butterfly fluttering around the lilies could make it up to God. I've always had this deep longing to pick emotions and thoughts apart like an intricate piece of machinery. Our thoughts lead to our feelings; our feelings to our thoughts. We are all like a set of well oiled gears turning with purpose.


   I believe that we are all so uniquely different, uniquely imperfect, and uniquely beautiful. How many days go by, though, where the sun dissolves on the horizon before we know it and the stars are the only thing left, like embers after a fire has gone out. Too often, our good intentions do not evolve into anything more than that. Hopes and dreams take root in our hearts, but we do not take the time to water them with diligence, sacrifice, and determination. The days turn into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years.


   For all of us that wonder and wander--I am putting pen to paper. I'm taking a good long look into my heart and I'm going to choose to live intentionally. I want to invite you on this journey with me. I'm going to write weekly entries. These entries will range in context, but all will offer you a time to reflect. This isn't a "quick fix"--it isn't a quick "devotional" that you can read in a quick two minutes while rushing out the door for work or as you fall asleep while on your phone at night. This is going to be all about slowing down and taking time to live like you haven't lived in a long time, if ever.




   The journey will be beautiful. xx