THE GRASS ON THE OTHER SIDE

It’s one of those subject lines that grabs you by the throat. Time slowed as my mouse hovered over “Baby Died.”

I didn’t breathe at all until I realized it wasn’t my friend’s baby. Except, it sort of was. One of the babies she works with in a Ugandan orphanage. Not family, as are the 7 dependents she claims on tax forms, but close to it, when you know her heart and her view of the world.

As I read about her many kids, her son’s broken arm, the challenges of life in Africa and her husband’s upcoming trip, I couldn’t help but feel small. Small in my scope and my reach and the type of things that seem SO overwhelming to me right now.

I pulled up my calendar in Outlook, adding “letter to Cher” to my task list when the words “Nicaragua trip” caught my eye. I realized that it’s almost time for 32 local high school students to put the rubber of global education to the road of real life experience, working with families living, literally, in a garbage dump in Central America.

Since trips to the grocery store down the street take monumental effort for our family, it seems inconceivable that my friend Ginny and her husband manage to not only plan and lead this annual trip, but build an international aid organization and spend summers exploring Europe with their children. Before reaching double digits, their girls have seen and experienced more of the world than most adults. Extraordinary. Adventurous. So beyond our reach.

It should be a good thing, to be trusted with someone else’s story, a much needed gift of perspective. Instead, too often, I let the comparisons steal from me. Spiriting away my confidence and contentment, making my stories seem less important to my own eyes.

Sighing, I scrolled through the rest of my emails, perking up to see an email from a new friend – one of my English professors. I had been thrilled to connect beyond the classroom and honoured to act as a sounding board for her upcoming blog. Not only does she have a depth of experience as a mentor and academic, she’s already a published author. That she also happens to be stylish, beautiful and eloquent only reinforced my belief that her life must be glamorous.

I braced myself for another dose of envy and insecurity. Somewhere along the way, I cast myself as the frumpy housewife inching towards an undergrad degree at an absurdly glacial pace. But that’s not who she sees.

Our paths have been very different. As she put it, we are ”opposite ends of the contemporary women’s spectrum,” yet somehow, kindred spirits.

She sent me a draft she’d written for the new blog about our unexpected, providential friendship. I am the other side of that mirror for her, just as she is for me… a glimpse down the road not taken. Reading it, I was reminded that her life, so glamorous to my eyes, has actually been a hard-fought, often scary journey. But she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

That much we have in common.

I don’t regret my journey. I don’t regret my destination. Even though I caught vomit in my bare hands twice yesterday. Even though I haven’t had 4 consecutive hours of sleep since Thursday. Even though I throw embarrassing, self indulgent pity parties for the whole internet to see. Even though I’m not a saint, or a world traveller, or a ‘real’ writer.

(Yet)

I won’t let comparison steal anymore from me today. I am surrounded by exceptional women with challenging, complex, beautiful stories. Not molds I must pour myself into. Not scales to weigh myself against. Not competition.

Friends.

The grass on our side of the fence is a unique strain. It might not spread as far and wide as some… it might not grow as tall or as quickly or as easily… but it’s home. When I stop filtering my life through everyone else’s story, this messy, noisy, beautiful life comes back into focus. And it’s good – hard, but good. And I can appreciate the view into other lives all the more.

So here’s me, in the ongoing battle to just be. Thank God for my story. And yours.

Breathe.

CHRISTIE HOOS

So Here's Us

HEAD TO HEAD

he is 8 (almost nine, he will add if you ask him) and his name is wyatt.  that tube is out and his sweet smile and contagious giggles are back in full effect but that was my view at midnight last night.  his mother is my cousin and one whom i have always looked up to.  a novel could be written about her and the amazing example she sets as a wife, mother, friend but most importantly…a woman of Godly character.  for her, this last week, these last 24 hours…it has probably felt as if the world has stopped turning.

they ran into each other on the playground.  head to head, they met, at the tip of the corner and went down for the count.  both with serious concusions, wyatt and his friend received the medical care that seemed to fix it all and were sent home.  but wyatt wasn’t getting better.  five days after his first trip to the urgent care, he woke up with two black eyes and told his sweet mama, “my head is squishy.  why?”.  back to the hospital and the doctors find a fracture in his skull and blood.  blood that is still bleeding blood.  not in a good place blood.  blood that needs to stop, and soon, or else surgery is required.  all from a run in on the playground.

here’s the cool thing.  wait…scratch that.  here is the coolest thing.  i remember holding wyatt when he was first born and having him come visit me in the hospital when i had my first baby (see above).  such a handsome little guy.  as he grew up, there was a slightly noticeable difference in the shape of his head.  doctors called it “mild malformation”.  much testing was done but nothing really ever came of it.  it seemed as if doctors were a bit baffled by this mild difference and so it was left as that.

turns out, this mild malformation saved his life.  most of us don’t have this extra pocket in our skull that wyatt has.  most of us would have died from a similar injury since our blood would have had no where to go and the pressure on our brains would have been deathly overwhelming.  but he had this pocket.  this mild little space that could hold one pint of blood in it and keep him alive for a period of time long enough to allow doctors to be able to fix it all.  that isn’t mild to me.

for you created my innermost being:

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

i praise you because i am fearfully and wonderfully made:

your works are wonderful, i know that full well.

my frame was not hidden from you

when I was made in a secret place.

when I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

your eyes saw my unformed body.

all the days ordained for me where written in your book before one of them came to be.

Psalms 139:13-16

to think that what once baffled the doctors and the family and the testing…to think that mild change was created for a specific purpose…for a specific moment in time.  to bask in the awesomeness of knowing that what seemed to be a problem was really a plan.  what seemed a concern is now a comfort.  how great is our God…

i know i pleaded with my friends on facebook and begged my prayer partners in email, for you all to cover him and his family in prayers.  there are times when prayers are not answered the way that we wish them to be and it is hard to praise God in those moments.  but there are times when we are blessed beyond all measure and our prayer are answered exactly as we poured them out.  this is one of those times.  and i hope this one moment in time will forever be a testimony to others who are going through those moments when it is hard to utter praise.  i hope, wyatt, that this story will be forever on your lips.  that God can take your mild malformation and do intense things with it, not just this week…but always.

thank you all for your prayers.  the peace that was felt could have only been given to us.  thank you.

AMY BALLARD

Amy B Photography

WHO IS 'ME'? Part One - Your Past

Take the Journey of Self-Understanding

Having an understanding of one’s self is vitally important in life. Before you can have healthy relationships, communicate successfully, or lead respectfully – you need to get a handle on who you really are. You need to be able to recognize how you will react to disappointment, what triggers your stress and why, and what your defense mechanisms are and where they originate from….just to name a few.

There is a big difference between saying things like, “I’m Christie,” or “I’m a mother,” or “I’m a doctor” and saying, “I am a woman who believes every person has infinite value and should be treated likewise; I naturally lean towards independence but believe deeply in community; I know that I am no better than any other; I am passionate about life and I want to maximize my contributions.”

Someone once said, “The concept you accept as true is the concept that controls you.” Who do know yourself to be? This will be the first of a three-part series that looks at your past, then your present, and finally your future in order to discover who “me” is!

Journey to Your Past  

 Work through these at your own pace

• Where was I in my family’s birth order? (firstborn, middle , baby) And how did I feel about that?
• Name something I am proud of from my elementary years. Name something I am proud of from my teen years.
• State 3 childhood dreams. Do I still have any of these in some form?
• What was I afraid of growing up? Am I still?
• Who or what made me feel safe and loved as a kid? As a teen?
• Who did I share my secrets, dreams, or hurts with as I was growing up?
• What are 3 words I would use to describe myself as a child? As a teen?
• Using my immediate family, how am I similar to each one and how am I different from each one?
• Name 5 things within my family structure that impacted me the most growing up. How did they impact me then? How do they impact me now?
• Name 5 things outside of my family structure that impacted me the most growing up. How did they impact me then? How do they impact me now?
• What are 3-5 things I learned from my parents about how to love others? How to treat my spouse? How to raise my children?
• Is there someone from my past that I haven’t forgiven? Why am I still angry? Why does it still hurt?
• What did I learn from my dating years? What view of the opposite sex did I come away with from my teen years?
• What are 2-4 inner vows I made to myself growing up? (“I will …”, “I’ll never …”, I am going to make sure …”)

Understanding the past, your history, is to appreciate how your story began and gain insight to why your story is unfolding like it is at this point. You did not choose where you were born or who you were born to or how others treated you. You cannot control circumstances or be responsible for other people’s choices, but you have complete control over who you choose to be and how you choose to live today. You are influenced by your history but you are not defined by it.

Write your story. Live out your dreams. Become who you want to be. Choose what you want your next chapter to look like and keep growing in your understanding of yourself.

One of the healthiest things I ever did was to process my past, forgive others that I had blamed for far too much, forgive those who made painful choices that I paid for, and choose to learn about myself through it. 

My question for you is this – do you understand your past and how it has impacted you?  

I’d love to hear what you discover about yourself - please share it with me.

Christie Lee Rayburn

ChristieLeeRayburn.com