How Did I End Up Here?

Guys, I’m going to be very open and real with you in this post. It is very early in the morning, and I’ve already been awake for over an hour. I can’t sleep. I woke up from a terrible dream. …

Lost in the Fog

Have you ever been in such thick fog that you can’t see anything around you? I’m talking about the kind of fog when you lift your hand out in front of you, your eyes cannot even find your body’s missing …

When Your Spouse Is Your Manager/Business Partner

I hate to admit this, but today, my husband and I had a run-in. I’m not proud of it, I’m not proud of the way I acted, and it definitely was a huge series of miscommunications. But I’m sharing this for anyone else out there who may struggle with the same thing.

Now, my husband is not my manager nor my business partner. He’s really more of my personal trainer. But the aforementioned names popped up from a tv series I sometimes watch called, “The Divas”. If you haven’t seen it before, the “Divas” are the females of the WWE. The show more or less follows their lives, no different than the Kardashians or some other show. Anyways, one of the “Divas”, Eva Marie, has her husband as her manager, which seems to work well most of the time. However, in one episode, she was struggling with something, and she yelled at her husband saying that sometimes he just needs to be her husband and not always her manager.

Now, imagine the struggle. Their lives are literally personal and work intertwined all the time. There is definitely a need to draw the line of when it is appropriate to be a husband, and when it is appropriate to be a manager. Work does take up a majority of people’s lives, but it’s important to just be with each other and forget work for awhile.

Thankfully, my husband is only my personal trainer at the gym. And quite honestly, though we’ve struggled training together in the past, I’ve really enjoyed training with him the past week and a bit. I will admit, I complain every once in awhile about too many sets or reps, or exercises that I absolutely hate, but overall, it’s been good. I’ve actually had fun with him and he’s done so well at learning to ignore my complaints because that just tells me I need to do it regardless of what I think. It works for me. I need that tough attitude in the gym sometimes.

However, today was a different story. I put in a HARD leg workout on Monday. We then stupidly worked out after midnight last night doing chest, and I was a little upset that he made me change my grip and I know my chest didn’t get the same stretch that it usually does, plus my shoulders were more tired today from the odd grip. So let’s just say we went to bed around 2 in the morning.

We were back in the gym by 11 this morning. I was tired, not feeling 100%, and my legs are so sore. We get to the gym, and the first thing he tells me to do is more squats. I was a little ticked because he knows my legs are killing me already. But I didn’t throw that much of a fuss (ok, a small one), and stormed off and did them. I actually was thankful for doing them by the end, not that I wasn’t a stupid kind of sore, but my form felt better than it has in awhile for some reason. So it actually was ok.

After squats, we began the back workout, except he started me right off with one set of deadlifts with the heaviest weight I could. Now mix tiredness with soreness with already knowing my body is not in tip top ability shape. Had I done 1 or 2 more reps than I did, I’m pretty sure my back would be seriously injured. That just set me off. And for some reason, instead of ignoring me today, my husband wanted me to tell him what was wrong. So I told him about the squats and then thanked him, but then told him about the deadlifts and how I should have built up rather than going to my heaviest right away, and then told him how back day was too close to leg day because I could tell it was affecting my workout. This did not go over well, and I was more than visibly upset for the rest of the time in the gym.

Towards the end of our workout, when I was doing my bicep exercises, my husband came over and apologized to me. I still was in a bad mood though because by this point, not only was I feeling everything else I mentioned, my back was a little tender, my rib problems were annoying me, my wrists were cracking, my forearms were sore, and I literally felt like I had nothing left to give in the gym; I was honestly on “zombie” mode. My brain had shut out a long time ago. My body was just going on its own. My form suffered, I had to lift lighter, and when I finally was doing my last set of barbell curls, I only made it to 7 reps at a lower weight range than normal, ended up dropping the barbell and ran to sit down to hide my face to stop myself from crying. I literally had nothing left to give. My body was done.

Now, my husband didn’t know I was on the verge of crying; he just knew I was ignoring him, wouldn’t look at him, and he left to go to the car. I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to cry at the gym.

There are so many things that went wrong in this story. There are miscommunications, there was the fact that bringing up things at the gym is one thing my husband asked me not to do because it’s his stress-free place, and I definitely and visibly did not make it stress free today. There’s also the fact that of any day, I wish my husband would have been more of my husband today and realized that it’s been awhile since I’ve been at the gym, and my body is not up to the recovery level it used to be. Just so many things gone wrong…

The thing is, we came home, we talked it out, and everything is ok again. My mood was just too toxic to have a healthy conversation at the gym. I needed to replenish some of the energy stores in my exhausted body, and he needed to cool down from the attitudes he received from me. We’re ok. It’s just learning the fine line of what we each expect, what we want, and how to know when to be that personal trainer, manager, or business partner, and when to be the more sensitive husband. I will admit, it’s not the easiest, especially when I ask him to not give in to me at the gym. Today was just a different story.

So ladies and gentlemen, remember that even if you do ever get into some type of work-related situation with your spouse, make sure you know when to be that loving spouse, or when to act in a business way. It’s important and necessary to keep your relationship functioning in a healthy way.

When I Realized My Grandfather Really Wasn’t Coming Back

Something happened today that really jarred my memory and brought me to write this post. I saw the following picture on Facebook and it got me thinking about my grandfather.

It took me right back to the moments where I can remember thinking about him and instantly started crying. Even now writing this, I can feel the water filling up in my eyes. I know many of you will say that you have/had an awesome grandfather to, but I’d like to take a minute to tell you about mine, and how special he truly was.

I guess it starts when my mother became pregnant with me. My parents were not married. I guess my grandfather liked my dad, but he was very upset about the whole situation and didn’t talk to my mother for days. However, being the man that he was, he still bought her a crib and everything she would need for me, even though he wasn’t talking to her. He was always that way, taking care of things even when he was upset.

Of course, as soon as I was born, he was completely smitten. My mother is a child of two, but lived very much a single child’s life. She never met her brother as he died on a surgery table a few months after he was born. That meant, I was the first and only grandchild.

My parents didn’t stay together very long. They did get married after I was born, but separated when I was about 4, officially divorcing when I was around 5. Where do you think we went back to? My grandparents. In fact, their home was very much “home base” my entire life.

My grandfather always spoiled me (and later my other siblings). I have pictures where my toys barely fit in the picture with me. My father told me that I would get tired of opening gifts because there were simply so many. I had this 6″+ man wrapped around my tiny finger. There’s no denying he loved me.

My grandfather was a used car salesman. In fact, it was my mother’s company that he worked for her since she dropped out of college to be home with me. The company was even named after my sister and I. But eventually he took over the company and changed its name since he did become the only one running the business.

I used to love visiting him at his office. My grandmother and I would get lunches for him, he would let me sit in his office chair, I would be called his “Number 1 Dudette”, and I loved the fact that everywhere we went, people always knew and respected my grandfather, and thus treated me as if I was a special person. I had never met anyone who didn’t know or like my grandfather.

If you could imagine the biggest realistic playground in the world, that would be my grandfather’s car lot. He gave me access to all the keys and vehicles in his lot. I can still remember the amount of fun we had pretending to drive the cars, and especially in exploring the only RV I remember him having. Only once did he ask me to backup a truck into a corner spot. My mother sat in the passenger seat with me, and I remember learning really quick to use my mirrors. I was so scared I would mess up his vehicles in this tight spot. But I did it! I still can’t believe he trusted me…

If I could compare him to anything, it would very much be the godfather. I’m not joking when I say that everyone seemed to know who he was. He was an amazing man when he was happy, but he was always a man you feared when he was unhappy. I don’t remember him every getting mad at me, but it was a general rule that when he came home, the remote control to the television had to be in the right spot for him to lay on the couch and watch what he wanted. He became upset if the remote went missing. There were just certain things you knew not to do.

Sometimes, my grandmother and him would fight. I’m sure there’s not a couple in the world who has not at least had one argument. Sometimes, or maybe more than sometimes, this meant he would stay at his office for the night. It was a conveniently built, small building that contained 3 rooms and a tiny hallway. One room was “the office”. The second room was of course a washroom. And the third room was his bedroom. It contained only a tv, a bed, and a mini fridge. It pretty much had everything he needed if he needed a night away. So it was a fairly normal occurrence for him not to come home sometimes.

The best thing about my grandfather was that he was always there for us. There was a time when we didn’t have the most money, and work was slow. My grandfather always provided what we needed, and then some. Most of you know that I have moved like 20 times with my family, not including on my own. The one person who was always there, regardless of where we were, was my grandfather. He never missed an opportunity to come and stay with us. (Of course I should say my grandmother always came with him as well, but I will dedicate a post to her another day.) He was honestly one of the biggest constants in my life.

When my family made the official decision to move from the east coast to the west coast, my grandparents offered to bring my sister and I out at the end of summer so that we could spend the extra time with our father. It was a fair bit of a long drive, but even then my grandfather trusted me with reading the map (before GPS systems). I almost think his belief in me helped me grow to the independent woman I am today. I have a lot to credit him for.

They stayed with us at our new place for a few days. Early in the morning, him and I would get up and drive to a hotel or another homey restaurant to eat. He was not a chain-restaurant type of person. Even back in the town he worked, he had one particular restaurant he preferred to eat at, and everybody knew his specials and what he enjoyed eating. He always preferred the homestyle cooking. In fact, he met my grandmother while she was waitressing at such a type of restaurant. My family and I have visited that restaurant a few times and imagined what it must have been like. They still have the juke boxes and the old stools. Sometimes it’s nice to preserve history rather than to embrace change.

We then took a trip to the “big city” so my grandparents could see it before they left. We had a lot of fun. At one point, we lost my grandfather in the big mall. I’ll never forget him driving around on those motorized scooters for people who can’t walk well. He had even gotten an orange smoothie and I guess spilled it all over the machine. If you knew my grandfather like I did, you would picture him using colourful language for the time he was mad, then acting like nothing ever happened.

I don’t remember how we ever found him, but I can tell you it was one of the hardest good-byes of my life.This wasn’t just moving a few hours away, this was a four day drive across the country. Of course they would come visit again, but the visits would never be as frequent as before. What I didn’t know was that my tears would get worse before they ever got better.

Literally two or three days after we returned to our new home, I got a call from my grandmother. It sounded like her for sure, but something was a little different. She asked to speak to my mom pretty much right away, so I gave my mom the phone and sat on the landing of the stairs. My mother took the phone into her room which was at the top of the stairs. The next words I heard told me pretty much everything I didn’t want to hear. She said, as she began crying, “Oh Mom!”.

My grandparents had been involved in a car accident on their journey home. An impatient driver went in their lane to pass a semi-truck and didn’t see my grandparents van coming at them. My grandmother was in the hospital, a little bruised but otherwise ok (she would later need nose surgery to correct the alignment). My grandparents’ friend who was helping them drive home had so many broken bones, including ribs and shoulder, and would also need counselling for what happened (he was driving at the time – completely not his fault). But my grandfather didn’t make it.The speed they were traveling on the highway, and the impact of a completely head-on hit left the vehicle in shambles and took my grandfather with it.

Immediately, we packed and drove back to the city. I thankfully had a great aunt and uncle who lived just outside the limits and welcomingly invited us in until we could all make arrangements to fly home. My mother was able to fly right away to be with my grandmother, but there were 4 more of us to fly, and we had to wait for a cheaper ticket to afford it.

It was so strange when I got home. Being in my grandparents house seemed so normal. I mean, I was only at my “new home” for less than a week. I had no attachments to it and didn’t even have to act like it was supposed to be my new home. I had come home and it felt like life should be normal again.

I know I cried a few times, but I remember just having the attitude and thoughts of “My grandfather is just at his office, staying the night like he usually does. Sometime he’ll come home.”

I still remember it as clear as yesterday: My mother and I were sitting in the living room, on separate couches, not talking much as we didn’t for a while, and her saying the exact same thing that I felt – that Grampy was just at his office and sometime he would come home. And it hit us right then that we had to realize it was wasn’t true, that Grampy really wasn’t coming back. I broke down (just like I am again now) because he was always there, for everything! How could he not come back this time! How could the one stable thing in my life not come back! It was so hard to accept.

Sitting in his house, seeing all of his old stuff, going to his office, it was all so hard to do when you realize the person who has always been there for you, the person who has loved you your whole life was suddenly gone. My nickname would never be used again, except when telling stories of him. My promise from him of giving me my first car would never come true. My life was drastically left with an empty hole that I’m not sure was ever filled again. Nobody could take his place, and I could never have been prepared for that instant change in time.

Life is not fair, and it never will be. The devil is waiting for any opportunity to attack and make a mess of things. He knows which strings to pull and he knows how to make things hurt you more than anyone else. He knows he can damage us and take away everything that means the world to us, which is why it’s so important to turn to God when you’re hurting, to let Him hold you and tell you that everything is going to be ok, because one day, it will. One day, when Jesus returns and we are taken to Heaven with Him, there will not be anymore pain, there will not be anymore death, there will not be anymore tears. I don’t know what my grandfather’s relationship with Christ was like. I know he sort of had a falling out at one point, but he insisted my mom make sure she took us to church. So I only hope and pray that he had a good relationship with God, because it would be so nice to run into those loving arms I miss so dearly, the loving arms that were missing during both of my graduations and my wedding, the loving arms that were taken away from me way too soon.

I miss this man more than anything, and truly just thinking of how much I miss him brings me to tears almost instantly. Hold your loved ones close and make sure you let them know how important they are to you. You never know which instant will take them away.

Week 12 Day 1: Squat Victory and Tips!

I can’t believe this is the last week of the challenge. Oh man. And you know, I started this challenge with the mindset of: I have to win! I’m proud to say I’m finishing this challenge with the mindset of: I don’t care if I win, I’ve come so far in my mentality and strength. I’m happy!

Today was another low-key day. It’s warmer outside, (-25 C) but still not something you want to go take a walk in.

More household chores got done (I’m so productive in the morning!), and we went out for groceries. We also stopped by the school to see if my car would start. Now, keep in mind that car has been sitting in deep snow, not plugged in, for 3 days. Absolutely frozen. Yet, what did that car do when my husband turned the key? Started as if it were a warm, summer day outside. Man, I love that car! I can understand its initial shock to the temperature and storm on Friday. I can sympathize about that. But it got used to the fact the weather is here, and it amazed me by starting and running without a problem! What a car!

We went home after our errands to eat before the gym. My husband just happened to fall asleep and took a nap. And it just so happened that a girl posted a couple squatting videos that were about 45 minutes in total. The videos reviewed everything that you should do right and everything that you could do wrong when it comes to squats. It literally broke the whole process down step by tiny step. It was so convenient these videos were posted today because I had to do squats today. I took many mental notes, and looked forward to trying this out. After all, squats have been a 3-year frustration for me.

When we got to the gym, I did my quick 5-minute warm-up on the treadmill. I then got ready and headed straight for the squat rack. I did my first set of 15 with much lower weight than normal (65 lbs) focussing on all the tips for my squats. I felt really good about them, but of course it’s always easier for someone to watch you and critique. So I went and got my husband. I simply did one rep, and my husband freaked out that I did it perfectly! I then explained to him what I had watched, the step-by-step of what I did, and just was so happy. 3 years of frustration, finally, finally fixed.

It took a long time for me to finish my 4 sets of squats. I was so focused on making sure my squat was in proper form, and adding weight each time. I was so tired and sore by the time I was done, and yet I had 8 more exercises to do. All of them were 4 sets today of 12-15 reps. I fought crying so many times. I could barely walk. But somehow, I managed to get through the workout, and went home without an ounce of energy to spare. It was killer. Cardio wasn’t even a thought today. I was dead.

We did go home, and we ate and got ready for bed. My poor body was used and needed the rest. What an awesome, awesome workout.

**If you are interested in watching these videos as well, here are the links:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TPNmkTIQTpM&feature=youtu.be

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GtPN-ftmxG8&feature=youtu.be

Sometimes Life Doesn’t Go The Way You Think

It’s without a doubt you’ve had some experience with this. It could be that everything seems to be going great one minute and then falls apart the next. It could be that everything is aligned to go a certain way and still it derails before your very eyes. Whatever the case may be, I’m sure you’ve experienced something like this at least once in your life.

Tonight I had one of these experiences and unfortunately I’m not up to sharing it right now. But it blind – sided me; totally took me by surprise.  It literally broke my heart and sent me into a downward spiral. And incase you’re wondering, no my husband and I are not getting a divorce. I wouldn’t have the strength to write you if that was the case. But this event that happened tonight reminded me that no matter what, I can’t live this life on my own. I have to be in close contact, holding the hand of my heavenly father every step of the way. I get blind – sided,  but He doesn’t.  I fall down and break apart but He doesn’t.  I sometimes feel like giving up on everything,  not seeing the point in anything. But God never gives up. And He sees the point in everything.  And therefore, I am reminded that I need Him daily, hourly, and each second.

I had a friend talk to me for the first time in a few weeks and she asked how I’ve been. So I updated her on the events of only the last week. Her question that followed was the same I get from many people,  “Is your life ever boring?”. It’s so true! I don’t have a chance to be bored. My life is either actively going in the right direction or I’m left scrambling to pick my life back up and put the pieces together enough to function again. I don’t get a break. It NEVER ends.

The more I sat and thought of this, the more I was reminded of things people have told me and things that I believe.

#1: God has me in my life for a reason and as much as I may not like it, it’s because He knows I’m the one who will somehow battle through it and develop the strength from previous events to tackle the increasing grandeur of future events. I seriously look over my past, the fears, the unknowns, and through God’s grace, I made it through stronger than before. But shortly after comes an event of larger size that once again breaks me down until through God’s grace once again, I build greater endurance and strength to overcome again. I mean I’m only in my early twenties,  and through the small amount of stories I share with my students at school, I have parents that have come to tell me I’ve been through more things that most people twice my age. I’m always scared of sounding like a know – it – all because I’ve moved so much, travelled some, been through extensive amounts of situations I can give info on so many different things. Students often come to my classroom to talk or to get advice because they know I’ve got something.  And maybe that’s part of the purpose, so that I can counsel others.  But it’s still an excruciatingly painful process with many scars that unfortunately get carried along.

#2: The devil attacks those He’s afraid of. Quite often, I’ve been reminded that the devil doesn’t waste his time on those who already deny God. His goal is to get us as far away FROM God as possible,  so he would only spend his time attacking those who try to regain for Christ’s kingdom, those who love God and try to follow Him the best they can. I’ve been told that when life is going seamlessly great, you have to question why the devil is not after you.  Again, not great news, because it basically guarantees life is going to be rough. But at the same time, God never guaranteed an easy life. He simply promised that those who endure on Earth will be rewarded in Heaven.  He promised that whenever we asked, He would help us. And that’s how we get through the worst parts of life, with God carrying us part of the way.

Tonight has not been the easiest night, but I know that God is here with me and is holding His hand over my heart, whispering that everything will be ok because He has this whole world in His hands. And I will cling to His embrace knowing that He is the reason I’m here and the reason I continue to survive through each thing I encounter. God is literally my all.

Week 6 Day 4

I finally got it last night on the treadmill. I finally thought up a few examples that really showed me things that were very difficult to forgive, but I have forgiven. As I reviewed my list, I realized these things hurt me more than they have ever made me angry. I narrowed my list to four things as I only wanted to summarize yesterday’s topic before presenting what I had prepared for today. My list consisted of the following: My father did not attend my high school nor my university graduations, my sister almost died due to the doctor’s mistake of putting latex elastics (of which she’s allergic to) in her mouth following jaw surgery causing her to near death, my friends burned down my family’s camp in a drunken stupor one Halloween night which contained years of memories that will never be replaced since my family was in the middle of renewing the insurance, and finally, the one that is still able to make me cry at any moment, is the fact that my grandfather died when an impatient driver went to pass a semi-truck and ran head into my grandparents’ vehicle coming in the opposite direction. Four extremely difficult situations I had to go through.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that yes, these things cause me sadness, but I don’t hold grudges against the people who were guilty. And here is what I figured out:

1. My life philosophy: Hate what the person did, but don’t hate the person. The truth of the matter is, if sin did not exist, the person would not have done what they did. God did not design us to be this way, but we all sin because of the fall in the Garden of Eden. When Jesus returns, sin will no longer exist. Therefore, just as we reflect on ourselves being sinful, hate the sin but not the person.

2. Allowing someone to suffer what we choose to be consequences for what they’ve done is a method of passing judgement. We are not the ultimate judge. Yes, Earth has judges for major sins that are here so that hopefully less sin will be created, but who are we to gossip about those who have made mistakes against us? We cannot claim to be the judge that God is, and thus should not carry out such punishments.

3. I thought of the story in John 8 where the people brought forth the prostitute expecting Jesus to agree that she should be stoned. However, Jesus responded in a way they didn’t expect, and that was that whoever had not sinned should be the first to cast a stone. Yet, nobody could because everyone had sinned. In this same way, how are we to again, punish others in such a way yet expect forgiveness for when we do something?

4. In a way, Jesus became the person you are upset at. Jesus did not just die for one person’s sins, He died for ALL of humanity’s sins. Think about that. In order to truly die on the cross for us, He had to essentially become all the bad things that we are. He became the bad in all of us. And I thought if I were to see the face of Jesus in the person I’m upset at, would I really be able to stay upset? This is a hard one to think of…

With that being said, I quickly summarized and prayed that those ideas would stick for anyone having difficulties with forgiveness. I then proceeded to continue with my topic for today.

Today’s School Spirit Week day was Tacky Day. Quite frankly, I hate this day. I don’t find “fun” in dressing tacky. But I do it to support my students. So tacky it was. When trying to think of a topic associated with dressing tacky, it quite easily came to me that the topic should be on how life can get messy. And I had a great personal story about this that I was given permission to share, and that was on my step-sister, Natalie.

Natalie was a child with a free spirit that did not easily get along with my dad. Quite understandably, it is hard for a man to come into your life that in a way seems to be taking place of your dad. I can completely relate to that. But she was encouraged by her true father to move out early. She moved out with her boyfriend at the young age of 15. She then proceeded to get involved with drugs which eventually led to many (I believe up to 15) times of being in and out of rehab. Then, the fearful happened. She became pregnant.

During her pregnancy, she seemed to come clean. She moved back in with her mom and my dad, and although there were still some arguments between my dad and her, she seemed to be doing alright. Several months later, twin boys emerged. They were premature, but healthy. I sing my praises to God that those boys were and still are healthy. So many things could have happened. But as they were now born and she fed from a bottle, it was becoming noticeable that she drank.

One Christmas break, my sister and I were at our dad’s, and our step-mom noticed she was getting an alcoholic drink. And so, my step-mom locked up the alcohol in her bedroom. What came next, none of us were prepared for. She went ballistic. She was pounding on the door, screaming that it was unfair, that they should allow her to drink, and finally that she was going to get her babies and they were going to leave. This got so out of hand that it got to the point, the almost unbearable point for my step-mom, that the babies were in danger and the police needed to be called. Keep in mind, my poor dad is running three things at the same time: apologizing and trying to lighten the mood for my sister and I, trying to console and counsel my step-mom, and keeping my step-sister and her babies in the house while keeping unwanted people out.

When the police came, they gave her the option of going upstairs to say good-bye to her babies. She fought and fought them until they eventually and literally dragged her out of the house. If only I could share with you the nightmare. I have never heard someone scream and yell like I heard her scream and yell that night. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought she was being stabbed to death. The awful things she was yelling at her mother would definitely be carried for a long time. That’s when I really knew what addictions could do.

She was released the next day, and I expected that when she called, she would at least ask how her babies were. But do you want to know the ONLY question she asked? When her mom could come get her and take her to get her Methodone shot. No joke. I was in shock. To care about a drug replacement shot to help with her previous addictions over the care of her own children.

Later, she did move out into her own apartment with her children, but by that Friday, my dad and step-mom had the boys over for a sleep-over that they would never return from. She was not using her finances for the true care of her children but rather to feed her addictions, and so learned that she could live on her own again while visiting her children as they were kept at my dad’s.

As much as I’d like to say that she got the help she needed, I can’t. I can remember a conversation we had late one night where she was telling me that the worst thing for her was realizing that she had no dreams left. She used to want to be an actress, to be all of these big things in her life. But she realized that her addictions have drained all of these hopes, all of these goals and dreams out of her, and she had nothing left. Perhaps this was one of the most painful realizations for her. Because one night, in winter, I received a phone call from my dad. His voice was shaky, and he sounded as if he was ready to cry. As much as Natalie and him fought, she was still a huge part of his life as his step-daughter. And I believe this is what made it so difficult that the police had shown up on their doorstep the night before asking them to come and confirm the identification of the body they had found under a bridge. Upon investigation, they had come to believe that she had jumped off the bridge as there was only one set of footprints in the snow that led to the railing and thus leading to the body below. What a hard thing to accept. After years and years of drug abuse, of alcohol abuse, and of accepting that you have nothing left to live for in life, I can only imagine the pain she must have been in. She knew that rehab wouldn’t help because it hadn’t in the past. She couldn’t seem to escape the relationship abuses from men, the fact that she couldn’t find the help she needed nor the inability to escape the addictions that had control over her. This was nothing short of terrible.

Of course, the following fear came that child services would take the boys away. But my dad and step-mother fought for custody of the boys and thankfully were awarded it. And to this day, they are doing the best they can while parenting as grandparents. They boys are doing so well, I’m happy to report. But one day, and my father has talked to me about this, he knows the boys will ask where their mother is, and why they don’t have one like all of the other kids. And he fears that conversation. He fears revisiting and telling them that their father has never wanted anything to do with them and that their mother was so involved with such horrible things that she couldn’t take care of them and eventually couldn’t even take care of herself. What a hard conversation to have with children. I can’t even imagine.

I asked the other teachers and staff to think about the children we have difficulties with, to think of the things we don’t know about in their home lives, the burdens they carry to school each day. Because sometimes, it only takes one family member to make life messy for everyone else. And when especially dealing with children, those background messes need to be considered.

I had to rush through this worship a little as you can probably imagine as it got a little long. But I left people crying and with deep thoughts. Because the truth is, sometimes life sucks. Life can be unfair. The devil is at work so much in our lives, trying to tear us away from our Father who loves us, and unfortunately he uses things like drugs and alcohol that have a way of hooking us and can be very difficult to get away from. Things like drugs and alcohol have a way of consuming people and making the gift of life that God has given us seem pointless. And unfortunately, I see the devil in much of Natalie’s life, laughing and smiling at her misery. And yet in the same scene, I see tears running down Jesus’ face as He watches the destruction of His daughter, the one He loves more than anything. It’s a sad scene, not an easy one to grasp and still not the easiest one to talk about. But as my father said, it’s important to use these stories to help prevent others from making the same mistakes and if this story will help someone, then it is worth talking about.

I didn’t workout today as it was a rest day, but I do hope that you reflect on this, especially if you or someone you know is suffering with addictions. Addictions are something so incredibly unfortunate and cause so much pain to everyone. Take intervention now. Pray that the God of healing, the God that has already defeated all evil in this world will help you overcome. Because there is no power greater than God’s.

Week 2 Day 4

Today turned into a day of rest, which is ok. I’m supposed to be completely workout free for 2 days every week. So I’ve counted yesterday as my second one. It wasn’t exactly planned that way, but after my third long meeting, my third day in a row, I still had to run a few errands (resent the FBI papers… praying for fast delivery and processing!) and came home feeling lethargic. I still managed to eat properly, although by the time I went to bed, I was a little under my macros for the day.

My husband did not come home until after 9:00 p.m. Of course he came home exhausted and sore. I spent the little bit of time I had with him awake before he just had to go to sleep. I sat up for awhile, grading student work, before deciding cardio could wait until tomorrow.

I tried going to bed, but several times I had to get up to keep the dogs from whining. The house is noticeably different with my little Jewel gone. Her brothers and biological father miss her and I think they’re going through a bit of a small depression. First their mother is gone, now their sister. People honestly will never understand… Dogs are not just objects. They have hearts, they have feelings. They suffer loss just as much as humans do, and who am I to get mad when I know they’re crying and calling for their lost family member. Makes my heart ache twice as much watching them go through the separation and knowing the sadness I feel myself.

Needless to say, with all these emotions this week, I think it was best I took that day off. I was home with my babies. I was home for the few moments my husband was awake. I was able to catch up on some work. And I was able to go to bed slightly earlier than normal.

Tomorrow, I am back to the grind!

Those Moments You Have to “Dig Deep”

I found this picture at a very convenient time yesterday, after I returned from the gym. It was one of those extremely few nights where the gym doesn’t seem like my playground, but rather a night where my body seems to have hit such a point of exhaustion that every rep makes me want to cry, the rest after every set gives me enough time to make a million excuses of how I simply cannot do this anymore, and I literally reach the point where I’d rather curl up on the gym floor and just shut my eyes than do anything else. Last night was one of those nights.

Thankfully those nights don’t happen often; I don’t know what I’d do if they did. Mostly they come when I haven’t been sleeping (roughly 6 hours of sleep in the 48+ hours prior) or when stress has passed the point of being unbearable, or my self-defeating thoughts come out of nowhere and my positivity has grown tired of fighting for me. Though the stress and sleep problems are a regular during the school year, the self-defeating thoughts are very rare. Conveniently they surface when I’m already at a vulnerable point with my other two. Mix that with a severe physical exertion at the gym, and my body no longer wants to be strong. It wants a break; a break from the stress of life, a break from the hard situations I have to deal with or think about, a break from the exhausting to-do lists that I always seem to have, and a break just to rest and forget it all. That’s what my body cries out for in moments like last night.

The worst part about the whole situation is the breaks between sets. The time that I have to come up with excuses of why my body and brain should get what they want; excuses of how I can’t go on anymore. Because the truth is, if I did quit, I’d always find it easier to quit in the future. If I did quit, I’d be admitting defeat; accepting failure. And if I did quit, I’d be lying to myself, the people around me, and my students I strive so hard to inspire because if I’ve ever wanted to tell anyone anything, it’s that you should never give up; don’t quit. It may not be easy, but if you want something that badly, keep going, no matter the setbacks. If you want something bad enough, you will find the headspace you need to get there if you will only dig deep. 

Dig deep in the moments you’re thinking of letting go. Dig deep when the pace of your life seems so slow.
Dig deep when the light barely shines in. Dig deep when the whole world seems to spin.
Dig deep when you’re not sure you can continue on. Dig deep and show yourself you were wrong.

You see, the whole point of this is that you can do it. You can beat those feelings, you can beat those thoughts. There is something deep inside of you, some fire that was burning that got you to the place you’re trying to be successful at. But brick walls and speedbumps will always show up. I once read a quote that life is like an obstacle course, and honestly, how true that is. The question is: Are you going to decide it’s just too tough and you can’t do it anymore? Or are you going to defeat yourself, conquer those thoughts, and prove to yourself that you are greater than you thought you ever could be? Because I know you’re an amazing person. I know your life has purpose and meaning. And I know that although there are going to be times that are tough, but I also know that each of you have it in you, and if you continue to fight for it, you will achieve and even surpass your wildest goals and dreams. You guys can do it!

So to finish the night, I decided that no matter what I told myself, I was not going to quit. There was no way. Even if it meant being a little more shallow in my squats, I was going to finish my workout. Even if it meant wiping tears after every set, I was going to finish. And just by taking one set at a time, I managed to slowly complete that workout routine. I did it. I moved past the fears, past the tears, and past the thoughts that were holding me back. I fought through the exhaustion and won my battle knowing full well that now I could be proud because I didn’t give up and I didn’t quit but instead I dug deep and found that spark that kept me going. 

Thank you and good night blog friends!

You Just Never, Ever Know…

I had already written this blog post once, believe it or not. As I sat crying, I poured out my heart on this computer. But just as I was finishing, my computer decided to glitch and it was all lost. I didn’t have the heart to write it again. Except this time, I’m not crying my heart out and writing in a different manner.

You see, normally I don’t work on Fridays. Well, I do, but from home. Last Friday was different as my grade 6s and I had a PAT scheduled for Friday morning. So therefore, we had to be there.

The PAT went alright, and most of the students had rides to leave right after, the others had soccer practice. I had a few of my students from last year come to visit me and study for their upcoming exams. I was able to make practice questions for them so that I could help them if necessary.

While they were studying, I received the most unexpected message from my mother. It was news that one of my friends had just died. By “just”, I mean within the half hour. It hit me like a deer in headlights. I didn’t believe it for a second.

This girl and I were on the same basketball game in high school, were in the same classes, and even though it had been awhile since I had seen her, we had been very good friends.

I maintained control as my mother began to tell me more details of the car accident, the head on collision, the fact that her baby and her were in the one vehicle, and a woman in the other. Both the baby and the other woman had been sent to the hospital as code 1 which means the ambulance is travelling fast with flashing lights as the passengers have serious injuries. However, my friend went code 2, which meant deceased and nothing they could do, so no rush, no flashing lights.

I just couldn’t believe it. Even now, the emotions are starting to rise again, but for the first hour, I just couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t think of anything else, but I managed to have a small conversation with a cousin of mine who also know my deceased friend. We discussed how the tiny town (population around 100-200) we came from never has anything like this happen. We discussed how we take it for granted that everyone we know will just be there when we go back to visit. We discussed how we really need to realize that anything can happen anywhere. And that’s when it really started to sink in.

Now, being at work was not the place I should have been. But I managed to hold it all back while the students were still there. It was when they decided to leave that the tears started to fall. I didn’t full out cry just yet, but managed to keep it still mostly contained. My husband showed up early from work to pick me up. I kept it in until I let him in the door and we got back to my classroom. I couldn’t even answer him what was wrong without starting to bawl. It sunk in so deep.

I cried and cried and cried, my husband not really knowing what to do. He helped me to pack, and took me home. I continued to cry and cry and be upset and wonder why these things had to happen. I knew I’d deal with this whole situation, but I didn’t want to have to deal with it. I went through the deep of emotions of how life is unfair and how her 8-month old baby is left without a mom. I was in a deep, dark, painful place. And that’s where I was originally writing this blog.

You see, just like I knew in my head the whole time, I would learn to deal with it. Loss is a thing that unfortunately occurs in life, sometimes way too frequently. You can’t avoid it. But you can learn to deal with it. And that’s what I had to do.

I cried myself to sleep. I slept for quite awhile. When I awoke, I had a huge headache, and had the eyes of an alien. But my husband asked if he could take me to a funny movie, just to help any he could. I agreed, and in order to not rush me, we planned on going to the late movie, and he went out to the gym for a quick workout so I had time to get ready at my own pace.

Fortunately with an extra application of some good Mary Kay make-up, and a good hair tease, I was able to mostly hide those alien eyes and the fact I had cried for hours. My husband and I went out, he was very caring, and made sure I had the best time possible at the movie.

We came home, I went straight to bed, and was able to wake up this morning (still with a headache), but ready to begin again. The tears may be gone, but the pain I feel for my friend and her family is not. A life is not something that can be replaced. This sweet smile will not be seen again. But the memories we hold of her, the pictures that capture the moments of her life, and the baby that will forever be a reminder of her are left behind. I don’t know the update on her baby. He’s still alive and I’m assuming he’s stable. The extent of his injuries are something I don’t know. But what I do know is that he has an extensive, caring family that will be there to raise him and to remind him of the wonderful mom he had.

You just never know what will happen. A life that could be here one minute may not be here the next. Really, there is no time to fight, there is no time to hate, there is only time to focus on making sure the people you love know that you love them. Make sure you’ve made them a priority in your life. Love them, spend time with them, and go to bed each night knowing you’ve done your best. You honestly just never, ever know.