"Hey God, It's Me Again."

I think it’s funny how in times of need, heartbreak, tragedy, or sadness we turn to God with our problems, but rarely do we turn to him during our joyful times. I am not one to preach about when you should be talking to God, in fact I should not be preaching about anything. At all. I am what you would call a “casual Christian” and that term can be applied loosely. I feel bad saying that out loud, let alone posting it here on the internet for the entire world, I mean the handful of people who actually read my blog, to see.

I come from a Christian family, I was raised in church, and then somewhere during middle school and junior high I lost touch with God, for all the wrong reasons. By the standards of the church I grew up in I was different, a difference that now doesn’t mean even the slightest, but it did back then. I was different in the fact that I came from a broken home, wait a minute, what? Yes, you read that correctly. I was different because my parents split up, the kicker here…I was alienated out of my church youth group because of it. I was taunted at school and I eventually became the outcast who no one wanted anything to do with. I ate lunch alone most days of my junior high and high school years and I was a loner. Shocking to think about that now. I lost touch with God because some stupid “mean girls” in my junior high youth group did not think my presence was worthy enough of theirs. My interpretation, if you aren’t good enough for your OWN CHURCH GROUP, then who are you good enough for? My answer. No one. I spent a lot of time, tears, and lonely years believing that. Something that I still actually struggle with to this day.

I lost touch with God for a long time, in fact I wouldn’t say that we’re in touch quite yet. It’s like we’ve been playing phone tag for the last 5 or so years…only now have I starting leaving messages. What brought me back to God was nothing other than a typical clichéd scene that could’ve been seen in any movie. A loss brought me back into church, maybe not all the way back to God, but it got me in the door.

It’ll be two years this summer since I got diagnosed with a TBI (traumatic brain injury). Something that stripped away my racing career and with that went my soul. The only place I was sure of was church. So I went. I sat in the back, alone. I listened to the music, only standing when necessary to be polite and speaking with no one. I gazed at the stained glass and cried. I cried for the loss of myself, and I cried because my life was spinning out of control and I had no idea how to fix it, or myself for that matter. Then 6 months later my mother was diagnosed with cancer…I found myself, once again searching for something of certainty. Again I found myself in a pew. I never really prayed, I never asked God “why me?” or “why my family?” I just sat there, almost comatose, just listening and smiling when appropriate.

I wish I could say I have progressed from there, but not really. I mean maybe a little. I now go to church once a week with a friend who was brave enough to invite me. I don’t feel a connection yet, but in due time I suppose. I have talked to God a few times, although with no reply. I’m sure he’s listening…I just probably talk too much for Him to get a word in.

Religion is interesting. It can bring people closer together and it can destroy relationships. I think the word religion is too heavily used. So many people get focused on the rules of religion that they forget about the relationship. A relationship between them and the creator Himself. But like I said earlier, I am not one to preach. My only hope is that one day I can work my way back to a relationship with the big man upstairs. I know he is there and he is listening, I guess I just need reassurance. A sign of sorts from him to let me know that my voicemail was received.

Just some random thoughts from yet another sleepless night. As I close out I’m sending God a text letting him know that I’m thinking about him and thanking him for the blessings in life…until next time friends.

-j

For My "Mama Bear"

I think it takes a selfless person to become a mother. A person who will give her body, her soul, and the rest of her life to raising a little munchkin that has been created. It takes a person who has compassion and strength, it takes a person with resilience and an insurmountable amount of love in their hearts. It takes courage, dedication, and most of all it takes a very special person.

I always took Mother's Day for granted, as I think a lot of us do sometimes. Another dictated holiday in which society tells you it is time to love someone. Don't get me wrong I love my mom to the moon and back, I just don't need a certain day to tell her that. Over the last year and a half Mother's Day has taken on a new meaning to me and let me tell you why...which means we'll have to go all the way back to the beginning.

First off, a little bit about the glorious woman whom I refer to as "Mama Bear." My mom was the person who always wanted to have kiddos. Always. Although for a very long time my parents were unable to get pregnant, fertility treatments and the works yielded no progress. I don't know what my mom said to the big man upstairs, but it worked and within a span of two years she had two tiny monsters running around the house (okay, one. I was clearly the good child). Fast forward a few years, my parents decided to call it quits, (that's okay, their prerogative), a lady who is raising two kids alone, without a job, and somehow making everything work. On a side note, my brother and I were always up to something, whether that was testing out a new skate ramp, or playing street hockey in the neighborhood, all the way down to being chased by a neighbor while playing ding-dong-ditch. The divorce was hard on everyone, something like that changes you. I don't know how that woman did not lose her sanity over our ridiculous amount of shenanigans, broken bones, and calls from the principal's office.

Let's jump forward another couple of years to me leaving for college. I went to school only two hours away from home, not far, but my mother managed to attend every single home soccer game that I had. Whether I started or not. Oh, did I mentioned that she did this AFTER attending my brother's soccer game as well, four hours north of where I was?

My mother was diagnosed with cancer last year. Cancer is something that I hope you, as my reader and people everywhere, never have the pleasure of meeting. Cancer is vile and emotionally destroying, not to mention physically destroying. While she had her moments of break-down and question, she fought through it. Even to this day she is feeling and experiencing the pain that cancer brought to her life. Medications that make her sick, but she manages to keep pushing through.

This woman has suffered so much throughout her life, she's dealt with a divorce, kids, who I know gave her gray hair (don't tell her I said that), and she's battled cancer. She is someone who does everything for others and never asks for anything in return, in fact it is actually banned at our house to give Mother's Day gifts. She works extremely hard to make sure that my brother and I are taken care of, on top of pushing us to chase our dreams. She has helped me chase my dreams, even if it meant leaving for awhile, or moving away, she is always there telling me to go for it.

My mom has supported us through college and graduate schools, she has allowed my brother and I to make decisions that probably weren't the best at the time, but she realized we needed to find out for ourselves, and learn from it. She is one of the most supportive human beings that I have ever met. In fact, she is spending her Mother's Day helping me study for finals. Words cannot express the amount of gratitude that I have for this woman. It is truly my honor to have been raised by her and to know that she is always around whenever I need her. She has held my hand through many challenging and painful experiences, she has been the person I run to when my heart has been broken, and she is the woman who I am happy to call my best friend. She has given her life to my brother and I, so that we can be successful.

This Mother's Day takes on new meaning because I have her here with me, a luxury that I didn't think I would get to experience again. So once you've wiped the tears off your face (which I am doing at the moment) go out and call your mom or give her a big fat kiss. I think a lot of times that we take our mothers for granted, their selflessness and fortitude. Today is that day to really NOT take them for granted.

To all those mothers out there, Happy Mother's Day. Know that you are loved and appreciated, even though as kids we forget to show it sometimes. To my mom, I thank you for the opportunities you have given me, the lessons you have taught me, and the love you have shown me because without you in my corner cheering me on, there's no way I'd be the woman that I am today. So, I thank you for that.

May all you mothers enjoy your special day, you deserve it!

-j