I Prayed for 10 Years, and God Answered

Sometimes in life, there are things we don’t know how to approach. There are people we want to say things to to, but for some reason can’t find the right words. Sometimes, they can be missed opportunities that are missed out of fear. Sometimes, they are missed because we keep waiting for something or someone else to bring up the topic so that we have an opportunity to put in our heartfelt words that we need to say. Some people unfortunately underestimate the amount of time that is available for some things to be said.

For years I have been trying to get enough courage or find the right moment to talk to my father about God; about my views on God and trying to find out exactly where he’s at. My father believes in God, absolutely. But after learning about how awesome it is to be a child of God, that you can openly talk to God as a friend and call him Father, Papa, or even Daddy if you’d like, it left me in a state of uneasiness seeing my dad only ever refer to Him as things like “The Man Upstairs”. I didn’t get a sense of owning God, of realizing that God loved Him. But how do I bring up such a sensitive topic with my own father? I know, I know. Some of you would say that I should love my father enough to bring it up regardless, but just pause for a moment. This is my father. I care about him more than the average person I would meet and talk about God with. I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want him to ask questions I don’t know the answer to. If I want to talk about it, I want to do it right, and there were not enough rehearsals to ever make me feel prepared.

But God changed that this summer.

Now, I think part of the reason is I had to tell my family I had turned vegan. They were used to me being vegetarian before, so in reality, vegan wasn’t much more of a step. They took the news a lot better this time than they did originally when I turned vegetarian, so I’m assuming I had them “warmed-up” for the big change.

Because I had to tell my family I was vegan, Dad asked me why I made the switch this time. I loved this question! I had the opportunity to tell my dad about the health benefits of being vegan and how much better it is. I didn’t go into incredible details of the effects on animals because my dad wasn’t there yet. But what did surprise me was one of the responses he did give me, which was simply this: “I could probably live without meat. But I guess my thing is I don’t want to. I love my steak.”

Now I know, there are definitely some people in the vegan community who would start criticizing my dad right away. I have heard and seen all the criticisms that could be used against his statement. But just hold on a second, after all, I know my dad better than you.

His statement was honest. He didn’t lie about it, he didn’t make excuses, he told the truth. He even admitted (for the first time ever) that he could probably live without meat! How big of a reality is that! This, coming from a man who literally grew up on the vegetables his mother grew in the garden, and the meat his father hunted in the woods. Even to this day, the family gets together to share moose meat if someone wins their moose license. It’s a way for them to save money and stock up the food supplies for the winter. Remember, New Brunswick’s economy is not huge by any means. And, if you think of it that way, he didn’t even go off listing a whole bunch of meats he couldn’t live without, he said one – steak. Now, I don’t support the killing of animals, I really don’t. But if he could even stop eating all other meats and only have steak once in awhile, that still saves lives! There is room for progress! So anyways, you can feel my excitement and hopefully understand it over that reply.

So I don’t know if it was because he was already asking me why I eat the way I eat or what, but he then asked me a question I have been waiting YEARS to answer, and that was about my faith. Now he didn’t ask an open-ended question such as what I believe, but he kind of asked in a weird way how my beliefs were compared to Catholicism. Now I can’t claim that he was questioning Catholicism, but I can say that he NEVER would have asked me this before. In fact, when I was baptized Seventh-day Adventist, my grandparents (his parents) told me I was playing with religions and that you should stick to the one you were born into. They are very set in following traditions which is also what the Catholic church holds onto, so I always saw my father having the same mindset.

Regardless, he opened up.

I asked him to clarify a little, and he basically asked if my beliefs had Saints like the Catholic church does, or if we pray to Mary, or those kinds of things. Now, imagine my heart bursting wide open at this point. Again, he may not be questioning things about the Catholic church that I don’t believe in, but it almost sounds like he is! So I just say no, and explain that everything we believe comes straight out of the Bible, and that we did have a “prophet” within the last century who passed all the tests as provided by the Bible as to how to recognize a true prophet or not, and though we don’t worship her or praise her, we do use her inspired teachings/writings as a deeper way to understand some of the confusing things in the Bible. After all, the Bible was written by God-inspired people. So it does make sense that somebody could have been chosen to be inspired by God again, which is why they conducted the Bible’s prophet tests on her to make sure she was truly being led by God. And I continued to explain to him that of course the Bible comes first, that we always pray to God, and that we do also believe in the Trinity: God (Father), Jesus (Son), and the Holy Spirit. But I told him (to emphasize the point) that everything we (or at least I) try to believe has to be based in the Bible, as tricky as that can be sometimes.

I’m not sure how my dad took all of that. It definitely wasn’t everything I wanted to say, but it was enough for the situation we were in. I wish I could say my dad said we’d continue the conversation later, but he didn’t. Mind you, we were in a busy situation, but I’m holding onto the fact that I’m praying God used that moment to plant seeds in my dad’s heart and mind. I’m praying that my dad will realize the greater relationship he could have with God than I think he does. I want that so bad for my dad, but as many of us know, if you push things, the person will usually retract. So for now, I’m being thankful God gave me that opportunity after so many years and will continue to pray that maybe Dad will ask me about things again so I can dive a little more into the personal relationship side of things. I’m still in awe that God did this for me, even though it has taken 10 or so years. God does answer prayer, that’s a fact.

So to end on a little extra happy note, my step mother and I have never talked about religion. I don’t really know her religious background… it’s just not usually a subject that is brought up. But even when I was driving around with her doing errands, she brought it up. And our conversation focussed more on whether the school I taught at accepted students of all walks of life, or if they could only be of our religion. We talked about how students from all walks of life do come to my school, but we don’t bend our beliefs based on theirs because they are choosing to pay and come to our school for some reason. She was curious how I taught my Bible classes, and I told her that I do respect the feelings and beliefs of all of my students, but that I’m not going to tell them to be sheep. I don’t just want them to believe things because I tell them to, because at one point, we all question what we believe. I want them to know why they believe what they believe with evidence, straight out of the Bible in black and white. I also told her that if they end up asking me a question about something I don’t know, I don’t ignore it. I either search out the answer myself, or we study it together as a class.

For example, this year my students were not into studying the life of Christ, something they’ve more or less covered since attending church as infants, but they wanted to know about the end times, about the dragon of Revelation, about what to expect. So you know what I did? Tossed my plans, and we started studying Revelation together. It was the most rewarding decision I could have made. Yes, there is some scary stuff in that book, but my students came from that book knowing so much better what to expect, what is going on in our lives, and how God is fighting for them every step of the way, wanting to protect them from every evil that is here and will come. They knew that things might get difficult for them, but that they shouldn’t fear as long as they put God first because ultimately, God is victorious and he is holding them in His hands the whole time.

I mentioned this in another blog, but it still blows my mind that two of my students who do not attend a church and do not come from religious families wrote to me at the end of the study, one saying that he had listened more than he ever thought he would, taking notes more than he ever had before, and the other saying how he’s not baptized (with a sad face) but knowing that he can do anything through the power of Christ and knowing that he can have a personal relationship with God was such good news to him. I mean, how much more powerful does it get than that! The students had questions, and God provided me the opportunity to learn and study with them. What an awesome way to be used by God!

So anyways, I guess if I can sum this up I would say, don’t be impatient. God’s timing is so much better than ours could ever be. And don’t give up. I mean, 10 years was a long time to wait for my opportunity to talk with my dad, but it came from his curiosity and not me preaching at him – 10 years, and God answered my prayer. So know that God does answer prayers. It may not be in the time you want, it may not be quite the answer you want, but God is always listening, and He will answer you.

A Maritime Way of Life

Recently, I have returned from my vacation visiting my family in New Brunswick for almost two weeks. I love returning home. There truly is no place like home. ❤

Going home is so important to me each year because it’s a break away from my daily “big city life”. Home, is a wee bit of redneckville mixed with a slow-paced existence. It’s the perfect combination.

In New Brunswick, it is totally and regularly possible that you may be the only car on the highway at any given time. Let me repeat that: At any time, you may be the only vehicle on the highway. That NEVER happens in the city.

Famous Hartland Covered Bridge. The longest one left standing!

New Brunswick is full of trees and rivers. Not just any trees either. New Brunswick is called the “Picture Province” for a reason: it has the most BEAUTIFUL variety of autumn colours you’ll ever see. And since the forests are everywhere with gorgeous lakes running through the province, the view is breath-taking. One day my mom and I even played “tourist” in our own province because it was such a beautiful day and the scenery along the drive overwhelmed us. It’s amazing when your own province can cause those awe-inspired feelings inside of you. I can tell you certainly the city does not do that for me at all.

In New Brunswick, nobody ever seems in a hurry. I’m sure people may be rushed for appointments or work in the morning, but honestly, you never feel a sense of rushing around. There seems to be so much time, so much laid-backness that you don’t get that crazy time-strapped feeling. Can you imagine life that way? I think it’s definitely something I used to take for granted when I lived there. I would give anything not to feel that way here in the city… the city that never has enough time for all that you need to do. And maybe that’s just the point…

In a smaller province, you don’t see as many people working themselves to death. New Brunswickers know how to have fun and how to get work done in a smaller amount of time. Families have time for families. Now, granted, a lot of people are on welfare because the economy is not the greatest, but even the people who do work still get together in LARGE groups of friends and spend time with their families every day. I can tell you as a big city teacher, this is something I don’t see often.

Now, why did I put LARGE groups of friends above? Well, when you live in smaller places, you know more people, and generally, in smaller places, all of the people get together. If someone’s having a party at their house, feel free to stop in. It’s an open door policy. Everybody knows everybody, and if you don’t know someone, know that you will be going through the stages of figuring out whether you’re to be trusted and accepted in the group or not.

It truly is an open door policy. People have less places to be, and more time to be home. So if you feel like visiting anyone, there is rarely a chance you need to call before going over. In fact, people LOVE when you stop in to visit. All the time I just go over to whoever’s house and knock on the door and never once will you be turned away unless of course someone is busy which of course, as stated above, doesn’t usually happen. And even if they are busy, they will stop to talk. It’s just the way they generally are.

Four-Wheelers (also known as ATVs or Quads) and snowmobiles are accepted methods of transportation and are regularly used. Due to the economy in the Maritimes, New Brunswickers use four-wheelers and snowmobiles as cheap methods of transportation. Most places in the country areas or small towns are accessible by these methods, and thus save on money. Gas is also more expensive in NB so it saves on gas as well. They are also a form of recreation. I basically grew up on a four-wheeler; it was the first real thing I learned how to drive on my own. I LOVED when my entire family would go on day trips. We’d make a stop at the local convenience store for gas and some snacks (all 8 wheelers of us) and then head out for the day. Most of NB’s railways have been dug up, so the trails that are left are super easy to travel on, not to mention the off road trails we’d venture out on. In the city, you don’t even have a chance to do this unless you have a truck to haul your machine outside the city to some acceptable place. In NB, go out into your back yard and begin.

There is rarely a person who will walk by without saying hello to you, nor a car that will drive by without waving at you. The reason for this? Most NBers are just friendly people. Definitely not a city thing…

Snowmobile parking lots truly exist in the winter.

New Brunswickers aren’t worried about the newest and greatest things. They could care less if they owned everything designer or if their house was brand new. In fact, that’s one thing I love about New Brunswick. They maintain houses that are hundreds of years old, some that are still cared for and lived in by families. You don’t get sick of seeing the same house after the same house as you do in the city. You actually get to see real architecture, large mansions of houses from people of old, molded tin ceilings, stained-glass windows, etc… The houses are simply beautiful! And even some houses that aren’t as grand that are 50+ years old are still loved and lived in, in New Brunswick. People (mostly) have respect for items. It’s not a “Oh I’ll just wait until the next one comes out… ” or “I need a new _________ that’s bigger and better.” They simply live for what they can afford and don’t lay around complaining about what they don’t have. I mean, here in the city, people complain, there are massive line-ups for items to come out the next day, people are throwing away perfectly functional items just because they’ve become “outdated”. It’s such a breath of fresh air to go to somewhere that people aren’t completely consumed with consumerism. People know and can appreciate a good find at the DollarStore. People know how to hunt for bargains that will keep them going. Brand new cars? Aside from my mother, my step father and myself, I can’t really tell you anyone else in my family who has ever bought a new car. They always buy used because it’s cheaper and it gets them by. I love the whole mindset. In fact, in this recent trip, my father quoted me this, “I don’t look at things as how long I can afford them; I look at things as how long can I keep them.” Amazing.

It’s so much more family-oriented. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, but it’s rare for a family not to spend regular time together. And I’m not talking just the parents and kids, I mean aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins, etc. Everytime I go home, I spend the majority of my time visiting relatives because that’s who I grew up with and was close to. My great aunts and uncles, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents, my parents and siblings, my great grandmothers, everyone. I grew up in a close but large family, and I wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world. From what I gather from most of my students, many of them rarely see their extended family. In fact, it’s usually only for family reunions. I love that I don’t have to wait for a reunion. I just get up and go, knock on the door, and then sit for hours talking. It’s seriously the best.

I’m sure I could keep writing on this topic and all the things I love about the Maritime life. And of course, these won’t apply to everyone. But being born a small-town, Maritime (NB) girl, I still feel this way about my province every time I go home. In fact, my dad commented how I still call NB home, but that’s because it always will be. I love the way of life there and it will always be my breath of fresh air.

Why the Name “Christian” Can Cause Such Anger

I’ve delayed in writing this blog post. The past few days have been a whirlwind for me. Not because I’m cleaning up my classroom, preparing for a new grade, but because the world has changed ever so quickly, and I needed to make sure my own emotions were not mixing and leading my thoughts but that rather my beliefs were the driving force behind my words.

When I decided I wanted to turn vegan, I thought what better place to learn than to join vegan groups on Facebook where people are continuously discussing ways of doing things better and on improving lifestyles. What better place would you get a mix of people who are starting out in their vegan adventure, as well as though who are tried and true veterans to the lifestyle. I did enjoy these facts, but I wasn’t prepared for what was coming.

As many of you know (and if you didn’t, I don’t know how you could have missed it), but the states have just legalized same sex marriage. To some people it’s no surprise, to some people it’s a reason to lash out, and to some people it’s a reason to celebrate. I was prepared for those reactions. What I wasn’t prepared for was the anger backing people’s responses. And it took a few days for me to truly understand what was going on.

Unfortunately, one of my vegan groups posted about this legalization and stated that you will never find a “homophobe vegan”. A man simply stated (though not in words I would have used) that he was not a “phobe” by the meaning of the word “phobia” as in being scared. He simply was using Biblical pieces to back-up the point that he did not support the movement. The backlash he received was incredible. And as I noticed he was the only one defending his beliefs, I decided to try and approach the conversation in a loving but understanding way. You see, I’ve noticed people are very quick to criticize Christian beliefs as being old and not modern day. But I knew that this is often because Christians have made a bad name for themselves.

I once saw a conversation where Christians were attacking an atheist. I could see where her comments and attacks were coming from. I couldn’t stand Christians reacting in this kind of way so I entered the conversation as well and simply responded to her questions and comments in a loving, non-judgemental way. It took quite awhile, but believe it or not, she thanked me for talking to her the way I did and explaining things the way I had. Of course she assured me she wouldn’t become Christian anytime soon, but that wasn’t the point of my discussion. The basis of my discussion was love.

So I figured that maybe if love was presented the right way in this vegan conversation, then maybe the hatred I was seeing would dissipate and the group could go back to the original purpose of becoming vegan and standing for animal rights. However, I’m sad to say it did not work that way. No matter how many times I reassured that none of the Christians in the conversation weren’t hating them nor judging them (all 2 of us), they served critique after critique back. No matter how many times I assured them that Christians should be focused on loving and loving all people, hate was served back. No matter how much love I tried to show about loving people but not supporting decisions they make, I was not supported. I even told them that the God of the world, Himself, has given us the power to choose what we do, regardless if we choose sin or not, and thus everyone in the world should have the power to choose what they want without anybody telling them otherwise, I was still considered judgemental. I brought up how I have a great uncle who has been a married gay my whole life and how I love him dearly and will never treat him otherwise, but that I do not support his lifestyle, I was still considered a “homophobe”. I was called a jerk, ingenious, told to take a nap, told I have mental sickness, that somehow someone loved me but in the same sentence told me everything I am is a sin, that God was going to send me to hell to burn for eternity, etc. And I was reminded again and again how listening to a 2000 year old book is so wrong.

I was not prepared for the hardness of hearts I was presented with. This is why I did not write this blog when I first thought of it. In fact, it’s been sitting as a tab for the past however many days since the law was passed. I’ve changed the name 3 times. I needed time to sort through what was going on, and to make sure my emotions were in check. And now I think I’m ready to help explain where I think things have gone wrong.

There happens to be a girl many years younger than I who was feeling the same way I was – being attacked by so many people, being pushed with no rest, exhausted from having to defend herself. The message came clearly in her Facebook post and the response from someone questioning the selection of beliefs, specifically pertaining to the lack of support on the same sex marriage issue.

I really thought about it before I posted this time, and I provided a very prominent issue among different Christians about the “clean” and “unclean” foods. I stated it as the fact that many Christians don’t support eating pork. Some claim that because it is an Old Testament law, that we no longer have to follow that distinction. Although many Christians disagree on this issue, we don’t hate our own family members just because they eat differently than ourselves. The best way to influence anyone in a positive way is through a loving manner. I also added that I grew up as a hunter’s daughter. When I turned vegetarian, my grandfather was convinced I would die. In fact, for the almost 10 years I was vegetarian, the very first question he would ask me is if I was healthy and had gone back to eating meat yet. The amount he would try to sneak meat onto my plate was crazy. He did not support my eating habits whatsoever. But he never stopped loving me. In fact, I can’t recall a day in my life where I did not feel loved by my grandfather, and that’s the way it should be.

To go a little further than that, she said she was going to put it bluntly and ask how same sex relationships is one law we believe from the Old Testament, but there were a host of others such as wearing jewelry, having tattoos, and premarital sex were things most Christians don’t follow anymore, yet we can choose to not stand for the same sex marriage issue.

This is where it truly sank in. The reason I believe that most people are so angry with Christians and our beliefs is because we have compromised on so much! Seriously, look around at your churches. I know for a fact that people drink, do drugs, party, have non-marrital sex with people regardless of being married or not, have problems with pornography, steal, cheat people out of money, etc, etc… There are people in almost every church who are the kings and queens of gossip. Churches are seen as judgemental because they’ve become that way. What have we done to ourselves?

Now, I’m not saying that all churches or even all people are this way. I do believe we have the sweetest, loving Christians still on this earth, and unfortunately that’s something we desperately need more of. But when Christians in themselves are out in the world claiming to be Christian and yet are caught in such horrible acts, what else is the world to think of us? Can you really blame people for hosting anger when they grew up in a church but like my sister, left because people were judging the clothing she wore? Do you really think that made her feel at home rather than winning her over with love? Personally, I’m ashamed at some of the things we’ve done to people. We should be opening our doors and welcoming, not just greeting, but truly welcoming people into our midst with the goal of letting love take over. When Jesus saved the prostitute, or sat with the tax collectors, you don’t see Him attacking them. He loved them and that’s what created the difference. Why can’t we do the same?

Of course I’m not saying we should kick out all of the people who are having problems either. What better place to receive help with healing than a church family, as long as we are being just that – a loving and supportive family.

Now, I know my beliefs may differ from yours, and that’s ok. Like I said, I have no judgement. The Bible, unfortunately, is not the most easily understood book at times, and some is left to our interpretation though hopefully somewhat unfolded with divine help (always pray before reading the Bible!). So yes, topics like jewelry and tattoos are a little more difficult to defend for some. However, I know the Bible clearly points out that our bodies are the living temples for the Holy Spirit, and we are to take care of them to the best of our abilities. Putting needles unnecessarily into my body, causing a stain that God did not put there in the first place that is ridiculous to remove, and putting holes all over my body does not seem like preserving the “holy temple” as God stated it. To me, that is clear enough definition as to why those are not the best idea. Jewelry that does not require holes (such as necklaces, rings, and bracelets) are a little more in the grey area. However, if you look at history, you will see that only the rich, and those who placed themselves above others wore jewelry. So at the time, it made total sense that jewelry was a way to separate the classes of people, and as far as I’ve read in my Bible, God doesn’t view us that way, nor does He want us to develop an attitude of being better than others. So to me, that makes sense. When it comes to premarital sex, it’s a no-brainer to me. You don’t need a Bible to tell you it’s not the best idea. Look up science reports and the reactions in the brain with sex. Look up psychology reports. The more sex you have before marriage, the less you are bringing to your marriage. Imagine if everything was brand new coming into your marriage. No past relationships to discuss, no past comparisons to make, nothing bad to bring into your forever relationship. I think in a way, we’ve lost sight of how sacred and special marriage was supposed to be. It was a union, a joining of two people. And in Mark 10:9, it states clearly, “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” We say vows, vows that are actually supposed to mean something. God blessed the union between husband and wife and specifically said that NO MAN (that means nobody on this earth) should be able to separate that union. I don’t know about you, but there are an awful lot of divorces going on. A lot of “man” separating what God told us not to. And that’s in the New Testament, not even the old.

Again, I hope you are not taking offence to this. I am the product of a divorced family who married other divorced people. Divorce is around me, and although I love my family more dearly than anything, I will fight with all I have to preserve my marriage union because I believe that is what is right. (I may continue this conversation at another time. It’s a whole separate Bible study.)

So those are my thoughts. I’m not sure if Christians will ever recover. If we’re going to stand for our beliefs, we need to learn not to compromise. No, it’s not easy being criticized. If anything, becoming vegan has opened my eyes to a whole new way of being criticized (not enough protein, not losing weight fast enough, not going to be healthy, etc…). But if you truly believe in something and seek to receive the rewards at the end, then you need to stand for whatever it is. But remember to stand in a loving way. Hate is fuel to the fire, but love (usually) softens the hardest of hearts. So speak to and treat each other in love, regardless of what a person chooses, but stay strong to yourself and don’t compromise on the beliefs you hold. Nobody in this world has the right to force their beliefs on people. But rather, keep an open ear and seek to find the Truth, and once you have the Truth, hold on to it. As humans, we are master justifiers, master liars, and master convincers. Don’t let someone talk you out of being yourself and believing what you’ve sought to be true.

For another pastor’s perspective, I found this to be a good, well-written, loving read with Biblical back-up.
http://todaychristian.net/a-detailed-explanation-of-why-christians-dont-accept-gay-marriage/

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.

Day 9

I woke up several times through the night last night, each time feeling like I was ready to get up and start my day. Something is going on with my sleep and somehow I need to get down to the bottom of it.

I had a later breakfast this morning, well after I got to work. I drank 1.75L of pulpy orange juice.

The juice ended up being both my snack and lunch. I was handed back my students’ PATs to grade for myself, something I had not done in past years. If you can imagine my students writing stories and newspaper articles for 2-3 hours each, and then me trying to get these graded… it’s taking forever!

As an afternoon snack, I ate my last mini red banana, two small tangerines, and two small apricots.

By the time the day was done, I was drained. And yet I looked at my grading table (overloaded), and I looked at the PATs that were only half-graded, and my pile of ESL papers I was returned to also grade. There’s no way I should leave it like this. So I spent an hour and a half finishing the PATs, grading Bible books and Spelling tests. I even managed to get Handwriting books graded. But after that, I left knowing my mental capacity was seriously about to break.

Meanwhile, as I was dying mentally, I started thinking of all the fast food places I could go. I started thinking of Wendy’s, of Subway, of tonnes of places. I even started thinking some ice cream and a nice big burger would be so good right now. I must have spent a good 20-30 minutes grading and trying to talk myself out of going somewhere and just eating at home. My mental exhaustion was getting a bit extreme.

Somehow, I drove myself straight home. I defeated all of those tempting thoughts I had. I sat down to some corn chip crumbs mixed with some salsa. I also took out the fresh mango cake I made last night and ate about a quarter of it. I also had got this Natur-a Cappuccino Soy Beverage. Oh my goodness. So good. I’m going to finish this thing tonight! I also wanted something not so sweet, and there weren’t enough chips left to satisfy me (literally crumbs left), so I made some popcorn with salsa on it. This is when I realized how hard it is to give up dairy. That was the only reason I couldn’t do vegan before. I like butter and cheese. But I’m doing it for my health and the welfare of animals, so I have to keep my mental battle going.

I went to the gym and did an awesome circuit of jump rope, overhead squats, walking lunges, push-ups and planks. I did my chiropractor’s exercises and left feeling amazing.

After returning home, I finished that Natur-a Cappuccino Soy Beverage. Oh yum! Wish I had one of these every day!

As a last meal, I blended up my last 4 organic bananas from my first Organic Box. They were pretty much as ripe as they could be before they started going bad. I blended them with some unsweetened almond milk, 2 medjool dates, and a tablespoon of organic coconut palm sugar. It was a yummy, filling way to end the night.

Why Go Vegan?

Hello everyone!

This is a huge decision, as you can imagine. I want to explain myself as to why I’m choosing this venue. Let me explain my history.

My father was very young when his family went from Quebec to New Brunswick. Speaking little to no English, they struggled for awhile to because accustom to the new province. My grandfather was a woodsmen complete with a team of horses and later big machinery. My father quit school after grade 9 to work with my grandfather. And so the lifestyle of “meat and potatoes” began. Whatever they shot was their meat, and whatever my grandmother grew in the garden was their produce. A very simple, carnivorous life.

Naturally, I grew up eating A LOT of meat. Not because we didn’t go shopping, but I was still a hunter’s daughter, and meat was a regular, every-meal thing. When I was young, it would be no big deal for me to sit down to a pound of bacon myself. It’s a miracle I wasn’t obese!

When I met my first vegetarians in grade 8, I was amazed. This concept that I believed to only belong to celebrities belonged to real life people! I was the only vegetarian in my area, and the lack of knowledge was evident in a quick trip to a hospital with extensive stomach pains. The doctor then informed me of some vital nutrition I was missing, and instead of telling me to eat meat again, told me some vital vegetables I needed to be sure I ate daily.

I was vegetarian for around 10 years. I quit meat cold turkey. My grandfather of course was convinced I was going to die, and was continuously trying to feed me meat. My only family was shocked, but my grandmother on my mother’s side, who has always had an interest in health, was happy. She basically went vegetarian with me! (She never was much of a meat eater).

When I met my husband, he was vegetarian and had been his whole life. My university graduation had led my brother to convince my future husband to try the “real stuff”. From then on, he was hooked.

Eventually, it was the smell of beef jerky that won me back. That smell in my very house all over again won me in. In fact, it opened up the whole new realm of macro counting with my interest in fitness peaking too. With the high levels of protein “needed”, it seemed as if I couldn’t survive without meat. And so I ate meat again for roughly 4 years.

Now, I’ve done so much research. And to keep it short, there is so much evidence that a plant-based diet is the way to go. I would like to think of myself as “getting back to the basics”, naturally. The world of fitness and diet will continuously battle itself. All information can be conflicting. But nothing can deny the way you feel both mentally, physically, and spiritually. Mentally, I’m not hating my food, I’m not worried about going over my “macros”, and I’m not worried about having to stop myself from eating while still feeling like I’m starving. Physically, I feel better. I don’t have to worry about eliminating things to figure out what’s wrong with my body, I get to look forward to younger, more flawless skin. And spiritually, I can feel good about being accountable for selecting the best foods that I can. I can also feel good about my choice not to inflict pain on animals that I myself could not kill. If I couldn’t do it, why do I take part in the process at all?

Some things I’m going to be doing are:
-Trying to buy as much organic as I can
-Continuing my workouts
-Drinking 3L of water a day
-Learning more about, and sticking to food combining rules
-Cutting processed sugar 95%
-Eating mostly fruit until supper
-Eating raw 90% of the time
-Eating until I’m full!

I will keep you posted on my journey! I’m excited for this new phase 🙂

Week 9 Day 6

As one can only imagine, I felt awful when I woke up today. After having so many dreams last night, I felt like I had lived several nights in one. But I got up, ate some breakfast, then took care of my babies, took a shower and got ready for my chiropractor and acupuncture appointments that I was really looking forward to today. After this week, I needed the relaxing and adjustment times. But that’s when the problem began.

My car would not start. I don’t think it was just that the temperature was almost -30 Celsius, but something that won’t even allow the motor to really turn over more than once. The biggest thing is that I remember my car doing this last winter, I just don’t remember how we fixed it. But what really stressed me is that I missed my appointments. I called in of course, but this week I could have really used those appointments, so I was very upset.

I came in, and decided that since my car wouldn’t work, I should at least try to finish my work. But to no avail. My eyes were burning, my body just in a hateful mode, and my head had the worst headache I’ve ever had. So really I had no choice but to try and keep sleeping it off.

But wouldn’t ya know, this would be the day my dogs would decide to be whiney. I walked them twice as much as normal, even though I felt terrible, and I was just miserable with my body begging me to sleep.

I eventually did sleep and went through several more dreams as my brain continued to try and filter through the last few days, and as much as I hoped I would get rid of the headache, it was still there when I was woken up by my husband coming home.

He took me out for supper, and he graciously took me to the gym, even though it was his designated day off. I powered through as much of my workout as possible, and had to quit half way through. My body wanted to workout so badly, but as much energy as my body had, my head pounded harder with each exercise I did. I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t stop, but I also knew how unhappy I’d be if I didn’t get at least something done. I hated it. My body was going through the exercises with ease, only being stopped by the pain in my head. I just want to workout!!!

So I’m back home now, and laying in bed with my pounding head. Medicine doesn’t seem to touch it. I will be back at the gym tomorrow. I need to workout. My body needs the energy release and is tired of being dormant, and sitting, and grading. But for tonight, sleep in on the agenda. Hopefully, I’ll finally feel like a normal person again.

Week 7 Day 2

I absolutely loved this morning. My friend and her husband had left for work, I woke up to the door closing, and I was able to get up, play the piano (something I love to do), called my grandmother, leisurely ate my breakfast, and played with the cat. And then, rush to get ready. I don’t know why it always goes that way! Somehow I was 10 minutes late for a less than 5 minute drive. Oops.

The meetings today were actually much better than they had been previously. I very much appreciated them. We learned about our expectations in a clear manner, and also were able to review curriculum outcomes. This was a pretty low key day.

After our meetings, I went to say good-bye to my friend, ran to a few stores to get a few things, and then drove home. I was so tired on this drive. All I wanted to do was sleep. But thankfully, I made it home safely.

Unfortunately, I had not yet picked up my meals from Fresh Fit Foods this day as I wasn’t home so I made the most of foods that I had available. Thankfully, there were some rice, fresh fruit, veggies, meat, and nuts available. As well as water bottles that were convenient to take with me.

I was so happy to see my husband, as you can imagine. And we still made it to the gym!

Today was a leg day, and as you probably know about me by now, leg days kill me. It was a hefty leg day, but as always, I was glad when it was done.

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.

Sleep Walking: What’s Your Story?

I am NOT a habitual sleep walker, at least I don’t think so. But I do have some instances where it has happened.

Reminds me of Robert Munsch’s 40 Below where the dad went sleepwalking outside in 40 below.

When I was little, and I mean really little, like 4, I can remember living at my grandparents house with my mom and sister (1 at the time). My parents were just going through a separation leading to divorce and so mom had moved “home”. I remember my grandfather informing me of a little event that happened the night before, something I had no recollection of at all. This is what he told me happened:

My grandfather was in the kitchen making a late night snack. Our kitchen was designed as a square with an open rectangle on the edge of it, a mini entrance hallway that opened into the kitchen. So if you were at the sink/stove/cupboards, you could not see the front door. You would have to walk around the wall to look at the door. However, the table was on the opposite wall of the stove so you could easily see both sides at the same time.

Anyways, my grandfather was facing the cupboards, using the counter to make his snack. All of a sudden, he heard the door open, so naturally ran towards the door to see what was going on. Nobody was breaking into the house, his little granddaughter was leaving the house, in the middle of the night! He called my name and asked me where I was going, and I apparently told him I was going to walk the dog. I don’t even think we had a dog at the time. My grandfather told me it was the middle of the night and I needed to go back to bed. I easily complied and walked myself back up to bed, asleep the whole time.

Now, something important to note here is that it was not an easy walk from my bedroom to the kitchen and back. I would have had to go to the stairs, go down the first set of stairs, turn on the landing, go down the long set of stairs, turn, walk down the hallway, turn again, walk through a zigzag hallway, through the doorway into the kitchen, walk around the table but not too close into the cupboards so my grandfather didn’t notice me, around the wall, down the hallway, and open the door! And of course, do all that in reverse on my way back up. Can you imagine this?

After that, I don’t have many stories of sleepwalking until I hit university where my sleep-functioning was due to such extreme lack of sleep. From conversations where people couldn’t even tell I was sleeping, to looking at people in my sleep (they said later the only thing they noticed was that my eyes were red, but honestly had no idea I was asleep), to grabbing the control for the fire place and trying to turn down the tv, to who knows what. That was a time my night-functioning was at an all-time extreme.

Sleepwalking almost always comes with an interesting story. I’m curious to hear yours! Leave your story in a comment below!