We Aren't In Kansas Anymore, Toto

Today is Kansas' birthday! Bet you didn't know that. Unless of course you're from Kansas, in which case ... you cheated. Kansas Day was always one of those super fun days at school growing up. It usually included feeling up some buffalo fur, eating some sunflower seeds, learning all about the covered wagons & of course, "Per aspera ad Astra", Kansas' state motto, which translates to "To the stars through difficulties."

(The state flower is the sunflower, the state song is "Home On The Range", the state bird is the meadowlark, the state tree is the cottonwood and the state reptile is the ornate box turtle. You're welcome.)

(PS - I did ALL that without Google!)

ANYWAY.

I was born and raised in Kansas. I spent the first 4 years of my life in Wichita. All I remember about Wichita is a few wicked tornadoes and the awesome swing set my Dad built in the back yard with a bright yellow "slipper-slide". We moved to Topeka (the capital - BAM) before I started kindergarten and there I would spend my adolescence. The same elementary school. The same middle school. The same high school, despite moving almost every single year from ages 5-18. My Mom stayed home with us, my Dad worked for KP&L until he and my Mom started his construction business. I remember them sitting at the kitchen table picking colors for the "For Sale" signs.

I guess you could say I'm Kansas through and through. My favorite movie EVER is The Wizard of Oz. I'm a die-hard Kansas Jayhawks fan and though they are usually an embarrassment, I cheer on the KC Royals and KC Chiefs. (Even though they are technically on the MO side.) I have a crazy fascination with severe weather & if the sirens are sounding you can usually find me outside or in my car. Sunsets in Kansas compare to no other, and in the spring when they start to burn the prairie ... THAT is my favorite. The flames at night, coming to the edge of I-70. It's magic.

I'm pretty fond of my home state. I'm a country girl at heart. I love the prairie, the livestock, the fairs. All of it.

So, imagine everyone's shock when I left it all behind for a new kind of favorite. In November I left the Kansas prairie for the beautiful forests and mountains of east-central Alabama. There is no comparison. Both Kansas and Alabama are beautiful. BEYOND beautiful. No matter how long I live here, I will forever be the girl who drives 5 mph on the back highway, gawking at the mountains, the woods, the "Beware Avalanche" signs.

Leaving Kansas wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. At first I felt guilty. But then I realized, it wasn't hard because I carry Kansas with me. My family, my friends, my favorite things. I'll see some livestock grazing the valley here and I think of Kansas. I see some random wheat and I'm right back in Oz.

I guess it's true. You can take the girl out of Kansas, but you can't take the Kansas out of the girl!

So, happy birthday Kansas! Thanks for raising me to appreciate the small things, the vast prairies, the simple silence and everything in between!

That One Girl Who ...

Once again, I've been meaning to come to this place. I have about 200 ideas to write about in my head, but I'm not quite sure which direction I want this blog to go in. How much to share? How personal to make it? I want it to serve a purpose; what purpose should it serve?

Well anyway, something's been on my heart for a while now, but it's been especially heavy lately. So I figured, what the heck: I'll write it.

I'm that one girl who got a divorce.

I'm also that one girl who accepted Christ as her personal Lord & Savior at the age of 5. I'm that one girl who grew up in church, singing with worship bands and leading her friends to Christ. I'm that one girl who loved acting, and I'm that one girl on 3rd base who loved the sport she spent nearly 15 years wrapped up in.

I'm that one girl who went to Europe when she was 16 and kissed a total stranger names Michele beneath the Eiffel Tower. I'm that one girl who became an advocate for domestic violence. I'm that one girl who never smoke a cigarette or tried a single drug. I'm that one girl who went to college to become a teacher, with a double major in Spanish. I'm that one girl who has full conversations with herself in espanol just to prove to herself she can still do it.

I'm that one girl who got married when she was 18 years old. I'm that one girl who drug her husbands butt to church every Sunday morning, but sometimes went alone. I'm that one girl who went to Bible Studies, led a women's small group and volunteered for VBS.

I'm that one girl who's husband got cancer.

I'm that one girl who still praised God every single day of a suddenly very painful life.

I'm that one girl who have God the glory when a very sick man was healed. And when all he had left was bitterness, I was that one girl who continued to pray through the brokenness.

I'm that one girl who left, for some "room to think."

I'm that one girl who's husband filed for divorce on Valentine's Day.

That was not the defining moment of my life. No, the moment I had in my bedroom 20 minutes ago when I, with small yet powerful words, asked Jesus to live in my heart - THAT defined my life. That set the stage. That built me into "that one girl" and how I would take on every single second of my life.

I've lost dozens of friends, Christian women in my life, because I'm "that girl". The one with the big red "D" on my forehead. I must be so dirty and unloveable, right? What has happened to us, women of Christ? When did compassion and love and understanding go out the door to only be replaced with a finger pointed at someone other than ourselves?

A woman is divorced? Surely she can't be close to Jesus! All those convictions of her life and intimate moments where she HEARD God speak must have just gone right out the door. Right?

God hated my divorce. It hurt Him, and if you have a conscience, knowing that something you did hurt the Father is a tough reality. It will break you to the core. Especially when you realize how many times a day our sin, big or small, breaks His heart. But I speak from experience: I believe God uses us, dirty 'ol sin and all. I believe The Word speaks truth; that when we ask for forgiveness, He will cast our sin as far as the east is from the west. (That's a really long ways!) I'm not saying there won't be consequences, because hunny there were! But when you're broken and at the bottom and approach God with a "use me" heart, He WILL.

Now, I'm that one girl with a heart of compassion for "those women"; Divorce, Abortion, etc ... I'm that girl who never assumes I know where a woman's heart is. I'm that girl who worries about her own relationship with Christ instead of others.

Suddenly, all the things I mentioned above that I "was", don't matter. All that matters is that night 20 years ago.

I'm that girl who became a Christian at 5 years of age. And she's not looking back.

Be kind to one another. And show the compassion you hope would be shown I you.

Till next time ....

Life.

I had plans to write a lot sooner than today. In fact, the goal is to write daily. After all, if this blog is going to grow into anything, I've got to post something. Si?

But, life got busy. Actually, life happened. Literally! On Friday, January 11 2013, I became an Aunt for the second time! Cayden Mathew joined the party and I gotta say ... He is perfect!

I first became an Aunt on May 4, 2012 when JaColby Alexander was born. Though now he is a wiggle-worm, curly-haired, smart and beautiful toddler he continues to change my life daily. I suppose I had a passing thought that second time Mothers have - "How will I ever love another baby like I love my Colby?!" but Cayden came with a great healing power, and with it he changed my life too!

Some women (more than you think) have mounds to cross when it comes to "the f-word" - fertility. Others have mountains. I face Mount Kilimanjaro when it comes down to me getting pregnant. (More of that on another day.) Because of this, I felt pretty sorry for myself; the chances I me ever seeing life enter the world, a childbirth, were slim pickins'. Colby came in unexpectantly. 14 hours of a non-progressing labor led to an emergency C-Section. When we knew Cayden was coming, I had already taken my spot in the shadows. My youngest sister is a very private, very modest person. So imagine my surprise when I was told to "sit on the bench and don't speak!" Ha!

So I sat. I didn't speak. And I watched life.

I was NOT prepared for everything that happened, nor how quickly it would all take place. Right before my eyes, my baby sister became a woman. She had a "pushing face" ... serious, determined, focused. Her cries at the end were enough to break my heart every time I revisit the moment. And finally, through a final scream came a breath. There he was. A gasp for air, a newborn cry and a just-as-excited doctor holding up life proudly so I could snap a picture.

Oh. My. Lawd.

They wrapped up life, put him immediately to his Mothers chest and he knew. He knew that was his Mommy.

It was hands down, one of the most memorable moments of my life. It changed me, in a big way. It healed me. It rocked me. Best. Gift. Ever.

Thank you, sister.

I'm back from Oz now in the Deep South. There are stories to be told here, in my new home. I'll be back regularly, now that life has begun.

New

I love brand new things.  Often times new is associated with extravagant, but it doesn't take much to make this girl happy.  A new bottle of lotion from Bath & Body Works.  A new book with it's fresh, crisp pages to be turned.  The overwhelming scent of a brand new candle, and perhaps my favorite "new":  A brand new notebook.  Do you remember being dragged to the store by your parents as a child and hearing "If you behave, you can pick out one thing."?  I was the kid who picked out a new notebook.  Sometimes, Mom would throw in a new package of pencils or pens too.  My "pencil zipper pack" in the front of my school binder laying perfectly on a 250 count package of lined notebook paper may as well have been gold. 

I used to dream about writing.  I wanted to write a book.  I'd practice my signature over and over, to perfect my autograph for the hundreds of book signings I would have.  I wasn't sure what I'd write about, but surely whatever it would be someone would read it.  Right?

Somewhere along the way, the word "blog" was introduced to society.  When I was in high school, I was bullied for having a blog.  I didn't like being made fun of, but knowing that I had my own little corner in the ever-expanding world wide web was comforting.  Somebody was reading.  Somewhere.

Flash-forward 15 years and we have "professional bloggers".  Eat your heart out, bullies!  Though I've had my own private blog for almost 10 years, I've always dreamt about the Major Leagues.  The Blogs I read belong to incredible women:  Women who have faced trials and overcome, adversity and persevered.  They've done great things with their "Blogosphere Fame" - they've truly changed the world, one "hit" at a time!

And yet, here I am.  I'm no one incredible.  I've got no special story to tell.  Still, I've been encouraged for a while now to begin blogging publicly.  I've got to admit, though I have no idea where this blog will go or what it will become, the blankness of it excites me.  It's new!  It can become whatever it wants to become.  Maybe I will become a peer to the "Blogging Goddesses" of our generation; maybe I'll slip quietly into my own corner and simply write.

Whatever happens, I haven't been this excited since I had my own Lisa Frank Folder full of college-ruled paper and a pack of matching mechanical pencils!