There's Too Much Damage...

I was watching Grey's Anatomy. There was a case of a young woman who had been impaled by a pole. They were trying to determine if they could save her. With all of their tests, it was decided that there was just too much damage. The doctors were not going to be able to save her. There was nothing they could do. The pole had torn through her flesh, ripped through organs, shredded her aorta, and severed her spine leaving a gaping wounded hole. There was just too much damage. 

Metal poles aren't the only thing that can cause that much damage. And physical injuries aren't the only damage that can be done. As I went for my run today, I began thinking about that episode. How distraught the doctors were at having to choose life or death for her. How brave she tried to be as they explained to her that even though she felt ok right now, she was going to be dead in just a few minutes. How she whispered last words to her loved one into the doctor's ear as they prepared to end her life. It's not just physical pain that can take its toll. 

Soul wounds. This is what my therapist calls them. I have soul wounds. My damage isn't visible. You can't see severed blood vessels or bruises or tears or blood. But I feel those things on the inner core of my being. I feel my wounds. The pain is just as real as having a pole shoved through my chest. Some days it even feels the same. Searing, blinding, gut-wrenching pain. Soul wounds. We all have them.

So, when do we know that there's just too much damage?  When do we know that there's just nothing anyone can do? How do we get to a point where we realize that we've done the best we could and there's nothing more that can be done? We just have to let go. These are questions I ask myself often. I go to therapy. I'm working on healing my soul wounds. I go and talk through things and work for inner healing and fight with all that I have to feel ok. But when do we throw in the towel and call time of death? When is enough enough?

Every person on this earth is going through something. All of us have our demons. Suicide. Abuse. Assault. Rape. Death of a child. Addiction. Legal troubles. Death of a parent. Gambling. Stealing. Lying. Cheating. The more I walk this earth and talk to people the more I realize that no one is immune from trauma. We are all walking around with soul wounds. With trauma. With pain and deep seeded injuries that keep us from having peace. 

As I sit in my sessions and work toward healing, there are horrible awful things that come to the forefront of my thinking. Things that I remember. Things I don't want to remember. Secrets I've stored up in my heart that I want to remain buried. Tears and anger and grief and rage. And the fight is exhausting. And my friends tell me that it'll be worth it to get to "the end" and be able to have peace. I want so badly to believe them. To know that the day of peace and complete healing of my soul wounds is just around the corner if I only just keep applying pressure. Keep the wounds from bursting open and flooding my soul. But...I just can't help think...what if the damage is just too much? What if there is no saving me from myself?

And then I hear a soft voice in the back of my head..."You can't save yourself...but I can save you." And I know that my Heavenly Father is here, within me, beside me, surrounding me with his love and glory. I know that He is the master surgeon and every day he is stitching my soul wounds back together, making me whole once again. He's taking the grief and pain and anger and working on me, a piece at a time. He's taking heroic measures to ensure that I am protected from the evil one and that I am walking through the darkness with my hand in His, knowing the beautiful peace and light that awaits on the other side of this ugly blackness. 

A lot of us are damaged. We are hemorrhaging and in shock and in danger of being far too damaged. And I'm sure that, like me, you wonder if it's time to stop fighting for life and call the code. But don't! Fight! Don't give up on you! Try everything you know to try. Ask for help from your friends and family. Work hard to find your inner healing. Stop the damage from your soul wounds from spreading into other parts of your life, and into other parts of your family. Our Father is a very skillful physician. He won't ever give up on you!  Don't ever give up on you! And I won't give up on me either...

Stronger Every Day...

When January 1st rolled around there were so many things I wanted to accomplish. Maybe too many things. I didn't write them out like the typical resolutions though. They were goals I was setting to just abandon at some point over the next few weeks. They were a list of my hopes and dreams. A list of things that were important to me. A list of things that if I were the perfect mom and perfect woman and perfect SLP I could accomplish all of the tasks with ease. 

By far my most successful endeavor of the new year has been my commitment to losing weight and getting healthier. I have stuck with my eating and workout plan perfectly over the last four weeks. Every Saturday I sit at my computer and plan my menus for the week and order groceries, making lists of things I'll need at Safeway after church every Sunday. Having this plan and being able to write it out as my guidebook for the week helps me stick to my budget, my grocery list, and my meal plan. I also write out my workouts for the week. Walking on my lunch break at work every day. Running my Couch to 5K three days a week. Tap class on Tuesdays. Taking it easy on the weekends, or getting in activity with my girls. Seeing that plan written out keeps me accountable. I have dinners planned for the week, my groceries are fresh because they are ordered weekly, and it makes it easier to avoid the temptation of fast food when I know I have a meal ready to cook at home. 

Because of my tenacity to sticking with my plan, I am proud to share that I am down 22.2 pounds and dropping! People are beginning to notice the change and I am feeling so proud of myself!

I have never been one that was fond of exercise. Well, maybe not in my adult life. I was very active with sports in school and was often a three season athlete, participating in volleyball, basketball, and track (throwing events...not running.) I didn't enjoy running but if you made me chase a ball down the court I could do that. As I got heavier and heavier in college and beyond it became harder and harder to move, let alone exercise. When I would lose weight before, I never exercised. It was always just watching what I was eating. This time I wanted to start exercising. So I put my plan in place. When I started week one of the app I was running in 30 second intervals. I started at 3.5 miles per hour on the treadmill and I thought I was going to die. Soon I was increasing to 4 miles per hour. Then 4.5. And then the app stretched my running intervals to one minute. And then a minute and a half. Last week I did six one and a half minute intervals of running at five miles per hour and I thought I maybe was on The Biggest Loser. It was terrible! But I finished. I did it! And I was so proud of myself. This week I started week three of the app and it increased some of my intervals to running for two and a half minutes solid. I was terrified and worried I wouldn't be able to do it. But I thought positively and started the treadmill. I decided to back off to four miles per hour. And I did it! In fact, it almost seemed like it was too slow! So today, I bumped up my last interval to 4.5 miles per hour. I did it! And I feel great about my accomplishments. 

With my plan in place, tools such as my app, my Facebook weight loss challenge friends, my FitBit, my treadmill, and Weight Watchers, support in the form of two little cheerleaders cheering their momma on, and a few close friends that I share my eating and exercise plans with I am getting stronger every day! I'm eating delicious, healthy menus that I can sustain daily and I'm enjoying exercising and getting fit!

This all runs parallel to another part of my New Years goals: my spiritual life. I have always been a Christian. I grew up in the Lutheran church. But, just as life started piling on the pounds, life started piling on the stress. There was a lot of trauma introduced into my life in a short period of time. And I began to get lazy about my faith. I prayed. Maybe. I sometimes read my Bible. Eventually it led to "Oh. Yeah. Maybe I should pray about that. See if it'll help." I was fighting each and every day to simply survive the day. I wasn't living. I was a zombie, walking aimlessly through my days, struggling to right my sinking ship. Hoping that something would click and I'd find my purpose in life again. So I developed a plan. Just as I have my health and fitness journal, I have my faith journal.  I write out my plan for what I need to do. Journal. Read my Bible. Have talks with my Heavenly Father. Pray constantly. Read devotions and scripture. Check in with a few close friends. All of these things are just as important, even MORE important than my physical health. I need to follow through on my plan for following Him through my daily life and relying on Him to carry me through each and every spot of my life. Because of the relationship I have with Jesus, I can now say that I am living! Is it ask easy path? Absolutely not! Every day is a battle. A battle to keep the demons out and to let the light and love of my Heavenly Father shine in. But the battle is not mine alone. Just as my process for losing weight and getting fit includes a plan and a journal and tools and support, my spiritual process includes a plan and a journal and tools and support. 

With the plans that I have in place, I will continue to lose weight and run and walk and get healthier. And I will also continue to cement my faith even more in the love of Jesus and grow in my faith in Him and in fervent love toward others. Distinct, deliberate plans to get me from where I used to be to where I want to be! Healthy, fit, skinnier, and faithful in the Lord! 

Stronger every day...this is my goal in all areas of my life. Not perfect. Not doing it all on my own. Just stronger every day. And I can already tell you, that living life rather existing through the days is so good! Thank you, Jesus, for carrying me this far. And thank you for teaching me to walk with you for the rest of this journey. With you...stronger every day!

Down...

"Well, you're down just a little...0.2 pounds."

Wait, what? I'd worked so hard this week! I tracked everything that I ate. I walked five days of the week. I completed week two of my Couch to 5K app. How could I only be down 0.2 pounds. The words stung a little bit. I had hoped to be down more. I walked to my seat in the meeting room and sat down, disappointed in myself. I looked at my tracker, trying to figure out what I'd done wrong. Maybe I forgot to write some of my food in my journal. Maybe I wrote some of my points in wrong. Maybe I'm not drinking enough water. I was starting to feel anxious and sad about my progress in Weight Watchers this week. Negative thoughts ran through my head. I didn't even get the Cinnabon that I had wanted! This isn't worth it! I should just got home and eat a cheeseburger. That's what I really want. I'm sick of veggies and fruits and weighing and measuring. For what? To lose 0.2 pounds?!

And then I paused. Wait a second, Duncan. Stop and think for just a second. Don't think about losing JUST 0.2 pounds. Think harder. I thumbed through my weight loss materials as I waited for the meeting to start. I have gained so much in the last few weeks. That 0.2 added in to make my total 21 pounds down. I've started running...not like real running yet but I'm doing a Couch to 5K app and there is some running. I never thought I'd do that in my life. Like ever... I'm eating better than I've ever eaten in my life. Whole foods and organic and healthy. I'm planning my menus every week, and sticking to them. I'm not just grabbing fast food every day. The girls are enjoying the meals I'm cooking at home and I'm enjoying cooking them. We are more healthy together. My girls are seeing me exercise and eat better and they are too. I started a tap class. What? I've never danced in my entire life unless you count at a bar with a few shots of Fireball in my system. I went to class tonight and I had so much fun and got a good workout in too. I'm drinking more water. I have more energy. I feel amazing! I'm not in as much pain as I usually am. I am so much more than those 0.2 pounds. Plus, those pounds are in the right direction. Down! I'm down!

Our meeting at Weight Watchers tonight was about our attitude and self-talk and how our thoughts and attitude can set the mood for the day. We talked about my thoughts. How I had walked into the meeting excited, thinking I was going to be down a lot and when I wasn't, those negative thoughts immediately started filling my head.  And I could feel myself getting emotional and struggling with my plan for the week. I might as well cheat  if I'm going to put all that work in and still not lose as much as I was hoping. But I quickly turned around my thinking. Last week I lost 5.8. That's a lot! There's no way I could have lost a lot this week too. 

Positive self-talk goes a long way and not just towards weight loss. Thinking positive and starting off with a good thought can turn your mood around and make your day better. It can help at work, with your kids, in your families, and even just out in public. When you choose to have a positive attitude, everything else tends to line up in that fashion also!

Want to know the best part? Every day is a new day! Every morning is a chance to start over, to try again, to make the best of the day! So start tomorrow morning. Add positive self-talk in, add in good thoughts about how your day is going to go! Start rethinking the messages you are sending yourself. I'm my own worst critic. And I think "I wouldn't say these things to one of my friends, or one of my students. So why am I saying them to myself?"

Start your day off right. Start with good thoughts about yourself! And then, as you navigate your day, alter your thoughts that are running through your head! Don't think poorly of yourself. Don't turn to beating yourself up with negative words. Build yourself up! Think about how amazing you are! Talk yourself through the day, and encourage yourself as if you would encourage a friend. We are very careful to say positive, uplifting things to our friends and family. We should be gentle with ourselves as well!

With positive thinking, and an uplifting start to your day, you should be able to conquer each day better! You are amazing! You are a magnificent creation of our Father! Choose to see yourself the way He sees you! A marvelous being! 

I know that by the end of my meeting, I was feeling recharged and ready to go for this upcoming week. I cannot be discouraged by a 0.2 pound loss, because everything I am doing to earn those losses are adding up to a better, healthier me! So I keep my chin up and keep the positive attitude up to help the scale continue to go down, even if it's just 0.2 pounds. 

The Best Day of Our Lives

Another one of my guilty pleasures is watching The Biggest Loser. I don't watch it faithfully, tuning in every week necessarily. But I've stopped in to watch it here and there over their many seasons of being on the air. Back when Brian was alive, we would watch it together. He usually seemed to have the night it was on off of work so he would run to Handy Andy's and buy us each a pint of our favorite ice cream and we'd sit and watch it together. Counter-productive, sure. But it was something we'd do together. We'd laugh at how wrong our methods were and that maybe we should try harder to do better. But it never changed. 

I stopped watching after he died. There are certain things that do trigger some heartache for me. Our favorite activities still tend to steal my breath away at times. But last week, I started watching this season. I missed the first episode but you catch up quick. Tonight's episode wasn't anything special or different. Weigh-ins, last chance workout, challenges, temptations. I watched while folding laundry and sort of half paid attention through the episode. Until the end. One of the contestants fell below the red line and was sent home. Her dad was willing to make the sacrifice to keep her safe and he would go home. The daughter quickly said she would go. That it was her time. And Bob turned to her and said "Remember as you go home that every day counts. Every choice you make matters." This struck me and I got teary. 

There are two simple yet potentially profound statements in Bob's advice to her. "Every day counts." This one haunts me sometimes because I am not certain as I look back if I have ensured to make every day count. There's a period of time where I don't remember much of what was happening in life, much less if I was making every day count. I don't know if I lived every day to the fullest. I know there were times that other people were at my house tucking my children into my bed. There were days when I half-heartedly taught my lessons to my kiddos at work as my mind was elsewhere. There are still days that I come home and drop my things on the kitchen floor as I slap a McDonalds cheeseburger and French fries onto my girls' plates and fall in exhaustion into the chair, letting them eat on the floor in front of the television. Have I made each day count? Not a chance. 

And then there's the other half of his statement. "Every choice you make matters." Ah, yes...this is most certainly true. Every choice you make throughout your day, throughout your life, matters. Should I hit the snooze button on my alarm? I might be late for work. I also could avoid that car accident that will happen just minutes after I normally would have been driving through that intersection. Should I go to that party? I might get more study time in and pass my test if I don't go, or I might go to the party and fail my exam, altering the course of my career path. Should I answer this match.com ad? I could meet the love of my life, or I could meet someone who is a liar and dangerous and will just end up hurting me.

Some of our decisions are not that drastic. Some of our decisions play out exactly as we think they will. Some of our decisions don't have life-altering effects depending on what we decide. But there is an impact. Ice cream after dinner? Might lead to more exercise later, or more pounds on your hips. Invest money here? The market could crash and you could lose everything. Cancelling parts of your insurance to save money? You could break your leg and not be covered. Every choice you make matters. 

Those hypothetical questions above? Some were hypothetical. Some were not. Some were real choices I found myself making. And the choice was wrong. Do I regret those choices? I'm getting to the place where I'm learning to be at peace with my choices. It's been a lot of therapy to be ok with those choices. And there's most likely more therapy to come. So, has it become crippling to make choices? I pause often, but I have help with making choices and decisions. 

Prayer! Before any decision I make, I pray and I hope that my Heavenly Father will guide me through those decisions. And if I end up making the wrong decisions, I know that He'll guide me down that path too. When I made that decision to respond to Brian's ad on match.com, I thought I was making a good decision. When he proposed to me and I said "yes" I thought I was making the right decision. When we decided to start a family I thought we were making the right decisions. And then the decisions got harder.  When I asked him to leave our home that night I thought I was making the right decision. Do I regret any of those decisions? Sure. I'll always wonder "what if." What if I had done this differently. What if I had done something else. But then I pause and pray and ask for guidance and I know that even though this journey has been difficult, our lives are playing out exactly how they're supposed to be. 

So, I keep living each day and making each day count. Life is a bit sweeter, a lot richer, when you pause to make the little moments count. And my prayer is that each day I'm making each decision matter. For my children, for my students, for my family, and for myself. Each choice I am making I turn to God for guidance and ask His blessings on the choices I'm making. I am so glad to have Him on this journey with me. I can't imagine navigating through the pain and heartache and disappointments you come across in life without Him. And by His grace, I'm making the most out of this life He's granted me!

Make every day count. And prayerfully consider your choices. And know that even if you don't, you are His child. You are loved and treasured and He is with you every step of the way. Amen!

Just Left of Center

Blair Walsh had one job. As the clock ran down on the game, the Minnesota Viking's kicker was one 27-yard chip from helping the Vikings pack their bags for a game in Panther territory, and sending the Seahawks home to pack away their gear until next season. 

I have faith in my Seahawks until the end. I've been a fan long enough to know that if there's a way for the Hawks to pull through for a win, they will find it. Kristi and I never leave our seats at home games until the final second has ticked off of the clock, or until the last knee is taken, declaring a team the winner. I have faith in my team. 

As I watched the game and witnessed Kam Chancellor lose his coverage on Kyle Rudolph who took advantage and snuck up to the 27-yard-line, my heart sank. Out loud to my girls I said "They're going to lose this game..." I sent a text to Kristi with a similar message...I had faith. But I also knew what an easy, straightforward shot Walsh had. Twenty-seven yards was a piece of cake. I sat at the edge of my seat and prayed for a miracle. As they lined up the kick, the girls and I held our breath and we watched it sail past the goal posts...the outside of the goal posts. "He missed it!" I screamed! "He missed it! He missed the field goal!" Emerson grabbed my hands and started jumping up and down. Then time to celebrate our fortunate victory. Until we saw Walsh's poor, sad, horrified face. Amelia's eyes turned to me, and we watched, sad for him as he trudged off of the field. Happy our Seahawks had won, but sad for the one man that lost the game for the Minnesota Vikings. 

How awful would that feeling be? Knowing that your teammates were celebrating on the sidelines just a mere twenty-seven seconds before. Knowing that his teammates had trusted him as their kicker, had placed all their confidence and hope in him. Knowing that his foot, the direction of the laces, the wind direction had kept his team from advancing to the next level. 

A few days after the game, a group of students were in my office. One of my boys likes to chat football with me and he started in talking about this game. How lucky the Seahawks were (he's not a Seahawks fan) and how lucky we were to be going on to the next level of play. The other boy in that group has no interest in football...at all. But, he did ask why we were lucky. What had they other team done that helped us win? I explained the situation to him. He didn't quite understand what the big deal was. Why people felt sorry for him. I explained to him how missing that field goal could be the end of his career.  Still not understanding, my student asked me, "Why?"

I looked at him and told him that this moment will define his career. And either he will let this get to him. He'll never kick again. He'll be traded and laughed off the team. He'll lose his confidence and will replay that moment over and over and over again.  He'll crack under the pressure and shame and never be a strong kicker.   It will impact his career from this day forward. 

OR, he'll take the other path. He will use that moment and rise above it. He will continue to think about that kick and he will use it to rise to the next challenge. He will practice and practice and practice some more.  And he will not allow that one moment, that one loss define him or his career as a football player. He will remember that in that same game where he missed a field goal that could have won them the game were also nine points on the scoreboard that we're all scored by him. 

I tried to link it to a real life lesson for my boys, to give them an idea that this is how life works in general. We all make mistakes. We all do things that make or break our lives. There are defining moments for all of us all throughout our lives. We are presented with opportunities for success and moving forward often.  We all have moments where we must make a choice. And that choice will impact the way our path goes from that point out. Or rather, our reaction to those moments will define our lives. 

I often ask myself what is it between people that determines how they'll handle life situations? When I think of the trials that have crossed my path, how is it determined who will rise to the challenge and make a better life for themselves, and who chooses to succumb to the darkness and despair that follows? How is it that the girls and I have pulled ourselves up in adversity and slowly, one step at a time, have found the higher road and continue to rise above our circumstances, and yet Brian chose to end his life, to walk away from it all and choose to let his circumstances drag him under. 

My answer? For me, Jesus walks with us. It's nothing that I do, other than have faith that there is more to our story. I have faith that our story doesn't end like this. I have faith that Jesus is going to give the world a message through our mess, a testimony through our tests. We are rising above our circumstances. We have risen above the demons that threaten to drag us into the depths. We have risen above the terror by night. We have risen above everything that has been thrown into our path. The girls and I have faith! 

Do I have moments of despair? Yes! Do I have seconds where I question God's path for us? You bet! Do I have days where I call my friends and scream "I'm done!" Absolutely. But, I also have friends and family and support who remind me of my purpose. Who remind me why I'm here and what I still need to accomplish. Who remind me who is in charge and to just have faith. And then I dust myself off, refocus, and look towards the future.  

So, my friends, have faith that your path is exactly where you are supposed to be, and that the yuck that rises up every once in a while will be things that you can face, with love and peace and a little help from your whole team. Choose to use your experiences to grow wiser and stronger and braver. Continue to kick the field goals, even though you might miss a few here and there. And when you do miss, don't be ashamed! You surely scored some other points in the game. Use the experience to learn a lesson. Line up again and go for it! Make the choice to stay in the game, and make yourself better than ever!  Be of good courage! Have faith!

Last Kiss...

I am a very private person. I don't like to share information about myself typically. There are only a few people that I trust implicitly with details of my life. Parts of this post are hard for me to fathom writing. But as I was walking tonight, I kept hearing a message. I have been struggling with some things lately. Demons have reared their ugly head as they often do in this world and they have been relentless lately. As I was walking, I heard "Show them how strong you are. Tell your stories so that they know that you have turned your test into your testimony. Show them your courage and not your fear." So this blog post flooded into my head for the remainder of my two mile walk. 

I remember the last kiss...both of them. The first last kiss I remember was the one when he woke me up as he got home from work at 2:30 am on September 29th. He told me he loved me and was going to make a snack before he came to bed. I smiled, rolled over, and went back to sleep. The other last kiss I remember was several weeks later in very different circumstances. We had just unloaded the last of his things into the driveway of his parents' house. We were standing behind my truck. He began crying. I began crying. I asked him "Why? Why did you throw us away?" He didn't have an answer, and there wasn't any answer he gave that would have fixed the fracture in my heart. I clenched my fists and hit the tailgate of my truck in anger as I choked back sobs. I walked towards him, put my hand on his cheek and kissed the other. I told him I loved him and that I just didn't understand and I walked around to the driver's side of my truck and jumped in. As I backed down the driveway, my headlights silhouetted the man that I had picked. The man I said "I do" with. The man I'd created my beautiful girls with.  Standing there forlornly in the midst of piles of boxes.  He was sobbing. And I was also as I drove away, unknowingly closing the book of The Story of Us.

The first last kiss was in the early morning hours before my life would slowly begin to unravel. Just twenty-four hours later I would find out something so sinister about the man I had married, it would lead to him being arrested and charged with two felony counts days later. The second last kiss would occur three days before he would kill himself. I will never forget those kisses, or all of the moments surrounding those kisses. 

Who would have thought that would have been my last kiss? I didn't have any suspicion that life would soon be unraveling when he woke me that morning. Would I have done something differently? Would I have pulled him closer, lingered a bit longer, told him how deeply I loved him or how happy he made me or how thankful I was that he was my husband? And I certainly didn't know he was inside his parents house right before I got there, sorting his belongings into piles to distribute among his family. Would I have done something differently? Would I have prayed with him? Would I have told him how much I loved him? Would I have tried to convince him not to follow through on that plan?

You never know when it will be your last kiss. What if we treated every kiss like it was the last? What if I lingered just a bit longer as I'm kissing Amelia and Emerson as I leave the house in the morning on my way to work? What if I kissed my daddy's cheek more than once as I throw my arms around his neck and tell him how much I love him? What if we made passion-filled kisses with our spouses be the kind that fills your head with sparks and your stomach with butterflies, just like the first kiss?

And what if we extended this last kiss idea to just general feelings and interactions with others? What if our encounter with the bank teller was treated in the manner that it will be your last encounter with her? That your interaction with her will be the last thing that speaks to who you are. Would you even know her name? What would you want her to remember about you? Were you kind? Were you polite? Or were you in a hurry and chose to take your bad day out on her?

Or how about the students that I work with? Do I want them to remember me to be kind and loving and honest and an advocate for them? Will they remember that I loved them? Or will they feel like they were a bother to me?

The last kiss...the last interaction...what do you want your legacy to be? Too often we rush through life, giving each other quick pats on the back or little pecks on the cheek as we rush through life from one thing to the next, not knowing that it could be your last time with that person. How do you want to be remembered? What do you want your last interactions with that person to be? Quick and insignificant? Or do you want them to know exactly how much they mean to you? How much you love them?

I am not satisfied with my last kiss. I want a redo. I don't know what I would change for sure. I don't know how it would look differently. I look at my test and I do see the testimony that I now know. I see the blessings that have been interjected into my life because of the circumstances that we've been through. But I would like another last kiss chance. 

Since that last kiss, I have worked hard to make sure that my moments with people, should they be my last moment with them, are filled with love and joy and peace. It doesn't always work. I have mild cases of road rage while I'm driving with the best of them. I get frustrated with co-workers. I let moments slip by where I neglect to call that friend I haven't talked to in forever. But losing someone changes you. You begin to look at moments and think about "what if I never see her again?" Or "what if this is my last conversation with this person?" It seems morbid, but it's just something that happens. So, my motto is always to be kind. Remember that they are fighting demons too and they need a hug or a smile or a chance to hear that they are loved or a prayer or a shoulder. 

Tomorrow, I am attending the funeral of a man who is very important to me. I have known him literally most of my life. He sat in the pews behind us in church from the time I was a little girl with pigtails sitting in front of him and still sat behind us when I carried my own little girls into church. He was a fellow Husky and was a die-hard Seahawks fan. When I would describe him to people that didn't attend my church I'd call him my football grandpa. He passed away on New Years Day. He had been ill and had to have surgery to have stints put in. There were complications and he slipped into a coma. He fought hard, but he just couldn't fight any longer. The middle of December, I had an appointment at Swedish, where he was a patient. I went to my appointment and checked the time. I could catch an earlier ferry and get back to work, but I felt like I needed to go visit him. That needed to be my priority. I went to his room and greeted him and his wife. We sat and chatted for about an hour. We laughed and talked about the Huskies and the Seahawks and church and how everyone missed him. I showed him pictures of Amelia and Emerson in their advent programs. I decided it was time to go and catch that ferry so I stood up, patted his leg and blew him a kiss. The last kiss...he would never make it back home. I am so thankful that I stopped that day. I'm so thankful that I was there to tell him I loved him and to give him that kiss. The last kiss...

So take a second with the people around you. Be kind. Be thoughtful. You never know when it will be your last kiss. You can live in fear thinking it will be your last. There is a balance. But my message is to just pause and appreciate those moments with your loved ones. Each and every moment. There is no pain like the regret of needing to redo your last kiss and not getting that chance.  Be kind and never regret your last kiss...

She Laughed...

The new year always brings so much anticipation. New goals. New dreams. New start. The girls and I started a tradition last year where we made "Rememberlutions Jars." Rather than making resolutions, Amelia decided it was terrible to focus on flaws we needed to fix and we needed to focus on the positives. So every day, we write down the best part of our day and put it in our jar and on New Year's Eve the next year, we read through our year. I love this tradition we started. 

This year, the jars were changed and prepared for another year of memories to share with each other. But I felt like I also needed to make some changes. Some resolutions to get my focus back for things that are important to me. Things I need to work on. Things I need to fix in my life. So I made some resolutions for myself. I'm sure the list looks similar to yours: lose weight, exercise, plan my meals every week, save money, keep my house picked up and clean, read my Bible and do a devotion every day...there's more but baby steps, right?! I need goals to help me focus. To keep me grounded. To help myself feel like I have a purpose. 

The biggest one for me? Losing weight and exercising. Most of you know I've had a weight problem my whole life. I've always been heavier. Bigger boned as people would tell me when I was younger to make me feel better. My weight has been a yo-yo as long as I can remember. I remember being mortified in high school when my volleyball coach had us all stand in a line and step on the scale to see 240 as a sophomore. And I'll never forget the day I first walked into a WeightWatchers meeting some 15 years ago and they handed me my weigh-in book. The sticker said 361.6. I couldn't believe what I had done to myself. Thankfully, I'm not the 360 pound girl I was. Sadly though, I'm not down to that 240 pound sophomore either. So, I've committed myself to losing weight. I joined WeightWatchers officially again in September and go to meetings. And I'm almost 20 pounds down since then. Still yo-yoing but overall heading down. 

But I decided I needed to step up my exercise. I despise exercise. I hurt. It hurts. It's not fun. I hate it. But I decided I needed to add it in. So I downloaded a Couch to 5K app and I started on Monday. 

You all know my Amelia to be loving, kind, compassionate, caring, sympathetic...all of those things. She is an amazing person and I cherish her beyond measure.  She is also human. She and Emerson were on my bed as I pulled on my leggings and tank top and laced my shoes. I started the treadmill at my walking warm-up. Then, five minutes into it, it was time to do a one minute run. I pushed the button to make the treadmill go faster and started my chubby, awkward running. I was very conscious of my joints, feeling them pulling and stretching and grinding. I had a million thoughts running through my head: Can I do this? Is my hip going to hold up under my weight? Is the floor going to fall through? And suddenly, I realized that Amelia was laughing. I turned to look at her and she was looking at me. She laughed...

I asked her what she was laughing at. She said "You. You look funny." And I immediately started fighting back tears. I knew she must be right. All the negative thoughts I've ever had and all the fat comments I've heard and read came flooding back into my head. I scowled at her and took a breath and steadied my voice and sternly said "You are insulting me and you are embarrassing me. I am doing my best and if you can't say encouraging things, please leave my room." I could tell by her face that she knew as soon as the words left her lips it was the wrong thing to say. I could see her silently wishing she could pull the words back. But it was too late. 

For the rest of my thirty minute walk/run thoughts whirled in my head. Good and encouraging thoughts. Bad and self-defeating thoughts. Towards the end though I found a determination. I needed to use this as motivation. I never wanted anyone, but especially my children, to look at me running and laugh and say I looked funny. This was what I needed to keep going. 

As the treadmill wound down, I grabbed a towel and sat next to Amelia on my bed, her head hanging low. She immediately said "I'm sorry." 

"I know. But you really hurt my feelings."

"I didn't mean to laugh. I just have never seen you run."

Tears stung my eyes. Not because her words were mean now, but because her words were true. I don't run. I barely walk sometimes. When the girls are running and playing, I'm following them around the yard with a lawn chair. When my sister is playing tag with them, I'm sitting on a bench. When they're playing chase at the park, I'm at the picnic table. She was right. 

And then my next thought was how much time I've already lost with my precious babies. Emerson is five and Amelia is eight. Let's assume that I've been the best mom for all of those years mentally and emotionally (that's not true, but let's just pick on me for one reason right now) So let's assume that. Physically I haven't been there for them. I haven't been with them for a lot of things because it's too physical. So, that conversation, paired with the stinging pain of Amelia's laughter, is driving me to better myself. To keep going. To keep running, even if I look funny. 

So, Day Two 5K training happened.  I was on the treadmill and my girls were both sitting on the bed watching me.  Emerson says, "Mommy, I can't wait for summertime when you'll be able to play tag with us instead of just watching."  Tears again...because THAT is going to be the inspiration and the audiotape that I'm playing in my head.  My girls are 5 and 8.  Soon, they will be too old to want to play tag with me, or run around in the yard.  I don't want to watch that time slip away any more!  I'm running...and walking...and eating better...for myself, but also for those two little girls.  And my implications are even greater, because I'm all they have.  Their father killed himself five years ago.  I am their only parent.  They are counting on me to fight and stay alive and raise them.  So...for them...I'm running. 

She laughed...and she most likely lit the spark that will save my life. The spark that got me back on the treadmill tonight and will get me on the treadmill next week. She isn't mean. She doesn't like to hurt anyone's feelings. I think perhaps the message she sent me was meant to be said. Some divine intervention to get me moving. So I can be alive to watch my girls grow up. I will keep running. And I will get stronger. And I will build muscle. And the weight will melt off of me. And I'll get the last laugh...