T E N seconds of C O U R A G E

I believe in prayer.

Wholeheartedly.

But don't worry, this post isn't about what I do, or don't believe in religiously. This post is not intended to convince you to pray. It is not meant to persuade you into believing in the power of prayer. So bear with me here; read all the way to the end.

 {and THEN cuss me out if you feel so inclined}

I find myself praying in the car while I am driving, praying before I go to sleep, praying when I find myself bored during the day. I write down prayers, I say prayers to myself.. But I've never really been one to pray on my knees. {Maybe some of you feel this way too}

Does this act make me seem like a bible-thumper?

Am I too openly displaying what’s in my heart?

What if I look just absolutely ridiculous to others?

Does praying on my knees or in my car really make any difference?

I may not have the answer to the absurd questions that come up in my mind, but I can tell you that in a moment of worry and stress, I got down on my two scrawny, knobby knees- and I prayed. And maybe God heard me just the same as when my music is blasted in my car and I send up a little prayer, but it made all the difference to me.

I found that this little act made me go outside my comfort zone. I’m not one to flaunt my beliefs and I think it just turns people off to religion when you are pushy and overbearing about what you believe. {If someone asks about my prayers, or is willing to pray for or with me, that’s a different story} But I found that surrendering my whole body in a prayer was a magical thing. The act of kneeling in prayer, to me, has taught me about going outside of my comfort zone. To not sit in an upright position, a comfortable chair in the proper seated position, but to get out of my personal comfort level and get down on both knees…. To cross my hands and close my eyes, and to have a real conversation. Thanking, praising, asking, wondering... I've found in my quiet time alone, I can feel like I belong somewhere.

So although this post is not written to tell you all about the miracle of prayer, or the peace it may instill  in your heart... It IS meant to show you that we crave a sense of belonging, and sometimes that sense of belonging is to a spouse, a friend, a book, a deity, an exercise regime...But often times, we may never arrive at that sense of belonging because we are afraid to reach outside our comfort zones. I'm not a preacher, nor a saint. {okay.. I'm not even CLOSE} so don't be afraid to question my words; but if you ever have a spare minute or two, just try it. There's something powerful and strong about getting your whole body out of its normal routine.

So whether you believe in prayer, meditation, or you just don't believe at all.. I can tell you that the power and rewards of going outside your comfort zone are unsurpassable. If that means kneeling in prayer, I welcome you to share your experience. If that means saying hello to a special someone you've had your eye on, I welcome you to take the leap. If that means lifting five more pounds, I welcome you to test your strength.
Today, do something that makes you take a baby step outside your comfort zone.

That tiny step in the right direction could be the greatest step you will take in your entire life.

I found that my baby step was in fact not a step at all, it was finding my feet on the ground behind me; kneeling. So whatever it looks like to go outside of your comfort zone, harness ten seconds of courage to make. it. happen.

Your future self will thank you.

I hope you find a sense of belonging; a sense of purpose.

I hope your ten seconds of courage will foster a lifetime of fulfillment.

 

Beauty.

You know what's been really on my heart lately? 

Beauty.

What people have come to define it as, what WOMEN are defining it as to their daughters, step-daughters, sisters, cousins, friends... 

Beauty is in a woman's strength. Beauty is in a woman's unique IMperfections.

It's not in the shade of lipgloss, the size of her waist, or the straightness of her teeth. 

We live in a viral world where a 'selfie' dictates your image. I may get dolled up for a photo shoot or to go out, but I am beautiful with my crooked teeth, my chipped nail polish, my hair out of place, my no curves, and no make up at all. 

Beauty is within... Not within a selfie. 

As women, our SELF image is constantly on display to younger girls. I challenge the strong women in my life to look in the mirror and ADMIRE the body and face you are blessed with instead of picking it apart. Set the standard for a generation of strong, happy, HEALTHY.... BEAUTIFUL women-to-be: on the INSIDE and OUT. 

Women, there are impressionable, self-conscious and FRAGILE little girls out there looking to you to show them how to view themselves- Let's make sure they look in the mirror and smile a REAL smile, and reflect true beauty. 

And women, believe you are beautiful yourself- not just for them. 

Useless Information That May Become Useful While Doing Something Useless

AKA-- Things You May Not Know About ME.

Let's jump right in...

 

1. When I see a penny faced heads down, I flip it over to change someone else's luck.
2. I want to be able to do the splits with ease. 
3. When I blow out the candles on my birthday cake, I say a prayer instead of make a wish... Seems to be more effective! 
4. I love anklets and toe rings. 
5. One of the highest things I value in life is my education.
6. I have an iPhone, and I'm in love with the OlloClip accessory for macro shots. 
7. I love my family and would do anything for them. 
8. I love chocolate chip waffles that are drenched in syrup.
9. No matter how old I get, there will always be a giant soft spot in my heart for stuffed animals. 
10. I really dislike driving cars.
11. Classical violin music reminds me of home, of my childhood, of all things comfortable and sweet and good. It puts my heart at ease.
12. I miss the adventures my best friend Rebeka and I used to go on. She is full of life. She's always shown me how to be brave and bold; but yet always had one of the kindest, gentle, loving hearts. 
13. I could eat Popsicles like there's no tomorrow. 
14. I love lists. 
15. I hate cleaning; I would rather shovel out ten barns before I empty a dishwasher. No, seriously. I used to trade chores with my brother, he would do my inside ones and I would do his outside ones. 
16. Some days I think I'm not cut out to be an "adult" and then other days I think I am right where I was always meant to be. 
17. I have a newly found love of sci-fi movies; partly because of my favorite person I watch them with {okay, that's 90% of it} and partly because of the thought-provoking nature they hold. 
18. I love writing a blog and I love reading other blogs. I love all things blogg-y. 

PhotoSoul Sarah.

The Bees Knees

The dreaded question...

Where do you see yourself in five years? 

It's a question we all get asked at some point in our life.

Where will you be in {insert year here.} 

Don't get me wrong, it is great to be goal-oriented. In fact, you will get nowhere if at some point you don't sit down and think where you are headed and where you want to end up. I am all about setting attainable goals and working towards them, however; I don't believe in living a life around expectations of where I will be in say, five years. 

My whole life has gotten flipped upside down on several occasions in just an instant. When I lost my baby brother, when I got my heart broken the first time, when I became an older sister, etc. Moments that take point five seconds to happen, and change you for a lifetime. 

Events in life come that make the world stop; and then never quite be the same as it was before. Sometimes those are positive moments like graduating or getting married or giving birth to a precious baby, and other times those moments make you wish you could go back in time. 

We don't know where our life will lead us five minutes from now, let alone five years from now. And although I strongly believe in goal-setting, I have learned that the one thing that is guaranteed to let you down is having unrealistic expectations.

Set goals that you can work towards every day, but don't wait and expect your life to change and be magical in a set number of years or after a set amount of events. Marriage, children, a dream career, a vacation etc are all great things to desire, but don't wait for happiness.

 

Don't expect happiness to come in five years.

Don't expect your heart to change in five years.

Don't expect your fulfillment to increase after you get married or after

'such and such' happens in your life.

Be happy now.

 

 

If you live your day to day life to the best of your ability now, you don't have to worry about questions like "Where will you be in five years?" Because in five years, you will look back and say wow; I could have never even began to imagine my life would look like this in five years.

If you're living right now, you can't even begin to imagine how your life will turn out in five years. 

&&after all, it really is the small things in life that matter. 

You there, you are just the bees knees!

 

Stop worrying about where you will be five years from now...

If you find happiness in the present, your future is simply unimaginable. 

 

 

A Love Letter to my Little Sis

Dear sis,

"You don't judge me when I'm weird. You don't judge me when I'm sad."

 

               We’ve always had this unique relationship; half the time the waitress used to ask me if I would like a high chair and a kids menu thinking you were mine. I am 14 years older than you, but you still say we are twins. ((I haven’t broken the news to you yet, although I think you’re on to something)) Okay, we’re not twins. There it is. I’m 22 and you are 8. You’re the best little sister I can ever imagine though. And at times I will probably act more like a mom, and you will get mad, but that’s only because I care about you and your well-being. I’ve always thought it was my job to be a perfect role-model for you. To help you and teach you and show you how to navigate in this messy, unforgiving world we live in. Usually though, you’re the one who teaches me things. You show me the laughter and excitement about the world. The way practice and motivation really does make perfection. You’ve shown me how to love with no reservations. You’ve shown me how to be a role model. You’ve shown me how to make really awesome bracelets, and also how to reorganize a doll house. You’ve shown me patience and understanding. You don’t judge me when I’m weird. You don’t judge me when I’m sad. You’re blunt when I’m being mean, and it allows me to grow and change. You’re kind and generous and light up a room just by being you. You teach me how to ride a RipStick, and induct me into your RipStick club. You teach me the power of giving.

"You teach me the power of giving."

               There will come a time when you don’t feel so awesome though. When you feel like it’s not okay to be weird, when you feel like your body is just not right. When you feel like you need to change for a boy, or change for your so-called friends. And I’ll be right there next to you, telling you the same thing I am today. You’re so special and unique. You have a passion and fire for life that is going to take you wherever you want. You are so strong; stronger than you will ever know.  And when you don’t feel like it, just come over or call me, because I will always, no matter what, see you as a bright-eyed, happy, strong, perfect girl who deserves the world.

"You're bold and brave, strong and passionate."

               Your beauty flows from the inside out. You told me the other day that you were going to grow your hair out until you were my age (which in your eyes, probably like an eternity) and then donate it to people who don’t have any hair. You’re eight now and already have a heart for those who struggle and are forgotten. You have eyes that see people hurt and you help them, and comfort them. When I’m sad you comfort me, and when I’m happy you share my happiness.

               I hope that you never get too cool for me. I hope that whatever life throws at us, we never grow apart. I hope that when you’re in trouble you will call me, and I will bail you out of it. I hope that we share secrets always. I hope that your singing voice is shared with the world and your dancing will move people to their feet. I hope you find health and happiness in everything you do; but when you don’t, try to think of yourself through my eyes.

What can I say? You’re more important to people than you may ever realize. One day, we will be those two old crazy ladies doing the cup song in the park. We will sing with the windows open at stop lights, paint our nails to match each other, and wear ridiculous outfits just to cackle our heads off.

               I see you growing into this beautiful, spunky, energetic, loving little girl, and I am so proud to be your sister.

You really are something else.

               You’re bold and brave, strong and passionate. My number one fan, and my toughest critic. And with only 8 years down, I’d say we have a lot more adventures to go on together… I’ll never be able to teach you everything about life, I’m still learning myself, but I thought it would only be fair that I remind you how amazing you truly are in hopes you will never see yourself any differently as you get older.

All the love in the world,

Your big sis and best friend forever.

Jival's Visitor

I don't think stories just appear on paper. I believe they snatch the author awake and drag them by their toes to their computer. Writing this story was a little like that for me... Hopefully the story speaks to you as much as it did me:

Jival's Visitor

A sharp ray of sun cut the room in half diagonally; and behind a visible curtain of dust was a bed just big enough for a child. A woman lay sprawled across this petite bed, her arm hung to the floor and her head turned to the side. Her eyes got lost behind the worry on her face. A warm glow washed over her skin, but the sight of her body lured in your eyes and hit you like a bullet. Her hip bones protruded from her sides, and her ribs pressed against her vibrantly colored shirt with each wheezing breath.

            Her struggling hand shifted from the floor to her stomach. She rested her fingers gently across her side. The skeleton of her body sunk into the bed, and the only rise in shape you could see was the roundness of her belly. Sadaf was nearly nine months pregnant with her second child; her first a boy of seven years now.

            Jival was full of life, his laughter filled the barren room. His almond-shaped brown eyes held back the tears he felt, and his smile brought forth the strength his mother needed. He would walk down to the river each morning at dawn with a pail half as big as him. He would splash in the cool water only when nobody was looking, and then rush to fill up the bucket and bring it to his mother. The dirt road got washed with spilled water as he trudged the long distance. He tried to be as careful as he possibly could, but somehow only came back with a half of what he had gotten at the shallow river.

            She would wash him each morning with this water; singing a soft song that was engrained in his memory. He would watch her lips as they sang the same soothing tune. Only this morning he noticed that they were cracked and dry. The color had disappeared and the outline was no longer defined. They fought to enunciate words that had come natural only just what seemed like the day before. Her voice became hoarse in the last line of the song. Jival’s eyebrows rose with worry.

            He watched Sadaf inch back over and lay on the bed, holding her stomach the entire time. Jival knew this was a sign he should go outside. He pulled on his thread-barren sandals and galloped outside. His mind was puzzled, but he wasn’t sure what to think. He ran to the edge of the road, and stopped instantly on the side of the road. A rugged car was making its way down his road; gliding over everything in its path.  Jival turned and ran as fast as his legs could carry him to where his mother lay.

            His words were flowing so fast Sadaf didn’t know what he was saying. Her hand rested on the boy’s shoulder and her words were calm and reassuring. Although she didn’t understand what he was so worked up about, she tried her best to assure him that nothing bad was happening. The boy’s mind raced to the hoarse tone of her voice that morning, and he peered at her cracked lips. He tried to tell her that someone was coming. He tried to tell her that it wasn’t family. He tried to tell her that is wasn’t someone walking or riding a bike. He tried, but he couldn’t muster up enough patience to get his words across.

            He stomped out of the house with frustration. He began to gather the sticks he had made into his toys, but heard his mother shriek. The lump in his throat got unmanageable and his stomach dropped. The sticks dropped to the ground in slow motion and his feet kicked dirt as he swiftly spun around to go inside. She was holding her stomach; grasping for the half-filled pail of water. Jival didn’t know what to do; he could only think of the car coming up the road.

            He looked at Sadaf boldly once, and then tore through the dirt road to the car. His frail hands were thrashing in the air, trying to gain attention. The car skidded to a stop. He wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do, or if he should have just asked his mother.

            A man with a freshly shaved face, and a firmly pressed shirt got out of the car. He had boxes of supplies in the back of his Jeep, and wore a metal device around his neck. Jival wasn’t sure if it was a necklace or some sort of torture device. The same look that crossed his face that morning came again. He tried to talk to the man. The man overpowered Jival with a deep, booming voice. He was scared and took steps backwards away from him. In the back of his mind his mother’s scream echoed and he gained ten seconds of pure courage. He grabbed the man’s giant hand and pulled him towards where Sadaf was.

            The man willingly raced with the child back to the hut. By the time they got to Sadaf, she was panting for air, screaming and holding her stomach. Her contractions were powerful and she was grabbing the side of the tiny bed with extreme force. Tears welled up in her eyes when she saw the man. She knew that he was a doctor. She saw the firmly pressed white shirt, and stethoscope around his neck. She reached out for his hand; she tried to scream for his help but nothing came out but hollow air.

            Jival felt his eyelids growing heavy. He felt his neck radiating heat and his mind blacking out. He fought through the dust filled room to get back outside. He sat against the mud-packed walls of the house until everything around him had a daunting shadow. He rested his head against the wall, and a bright star caught his attention. As soon as he saw the star, a piercing, whimpering cry belted out! 

            “MATA!” Jival said.

            Sadaf turned her head as her oldest boy ran to her side. She held out her arms and Jival rushed into them. The man in the Jeep was cradling her new son. He looked at Jival with fear in his eyes. He sensed this and looked back at his mother. Her weak arm motioned for him to see the baby. He walked as slow as he could all the way.

            The bottles of pills beside Sadaf’s bed were empty. The tops of the white lids were covered in dust, and the dates were from almost nine months prior. The jar of what-used-to-be coins next to the bed had only scraps of old metal. The glass reflected only the man’s image, no glint of money. The man picked up the bottles and looked back at her with disbelief. He told her he needed to go back to his Jeep to get supplies, he could help. She grabbed his hand, and it only took one look. She spent many months wondering if she would make it this far. Thanks to his help, she gave life to a new son.

            Her withered body lay enamored by her two sons. Jival was lost in his brother’s precious look, and the man turned his head to wipe the rush of tears flowing down his face.

 Jival was now a big brother; Jival was now an orphan.

Exhaustion had taken its toll; HIV/ AIDS had taken its toll. But that was then, and this is now. And something like that could never happen today.