Burritos at Midnight

12/8/16

#keepcalmWRITEon Day 8

***

I was driving home from work.  Now, mind you, my work is not like regular work.  It’s shift work, at a PRTF (that’s short for Psychiatric Residential Treatment Facility).  My shift ends at 11:00 pm, and tonight, I was driving away at 11:59 pm—midnight.  I’d just spent 11 hours managing 40 emotionally and behaviorally challenged kids and teenagers, and all the staff that go with them.  Luckily, I didn’t get cussed out or punched or scratched today. But, still, I was tired.  My co-supervisor and I had just finished hashing out staffing for tomorrow, and frankly, it looked a little grim.

I didn’t get to eat dinner at work today, partially because Breakfast/Lunch-Hybrid Meal was not until 4:00pm and I wasn’t hungry yet, and partially because I was so busy attending to the different needs that arise at the PRTF. 

So, of course, I decided that I should pull through the drive-through at Pancho’s (BEST FOOD EVER), on my way home (breaking my rule of not eating restaurant food late at night...I've been really good about that lately, but I felt like I could give myself permission to go!).

So, feeling like I had rationalized well with myself, off to Pancho’s I drove.

It’s worth mentioning that today was the second REALLY COLD day of the year.  The high temperature this afternoon reached 25 degrees, and driving through town, I noticed the glittering, sparkling frost atop the roofs of several buildings.  I was enjoying the drive; it gave me a few extra minutes to wind down and get my brain to chill out after the busy evening at work.

Pulling into Pancho’s, I noticed the line of cars wrapped all the way around the drive-thru and around the building.  “Wow!” I thought, “It’s poppin’ tonight! Everyone must be hungry tonight.”

I knew I would wait in line for several minutes before anyone took my order, and even a few more minutes while I paid at the window and my food was being prepared.  I ordered two things --a bacon breakfast burrito and a chicken quesadilla – thinking that I could save one for tomorrow’s Breakfast-Lunch Hybrid Meal.  While I waited, I absentmindedly checked my phone, wrote in my calendar, and thought about what I would do when I got home…until I saw him.

He had blonde-ish, brown-ish hair, that looked a little long…and he wore all black, and glasses on his face.  He seemed young, in his 20’s, and he carried a backpack, and seemed to be doing some sort of dance between walking in and out of the building.  He began to cross the street in front of me towards the parking lot; I couldn’t tell what he was doing, so I let the car in front of me pull away and I waited – unsure of what this guy was doing or where he was going.  He turned back around and approached the door to the building again, and this time, made eye contact with me, and –could that be?—yes, he waved at me.

I was so tired from work and distracted by my phone and planners, I couldn’t decide if this was actually happening or not.  But yes; he waved at me and began motioning and gesturing…asking for food, drink, something, ANYTHING.  I began to shake my head at him, in disbelief.  I hadn’t pulled all the way up to the window yet and had nobody to discuss the matter with but myself.  

As I furrowed my brow at him, I pulled up to the window and paid for my food, handing my debit card securely to the cashier, then making eye contact with the stranger while I tucked my debit card out of sight.  When my food was handed to me, I knew what I would do.  I reached into my takeout bag, pulled out my burrito, and put it in my left hand— then I rolled down my window.

I pulled my car forward and handed the burrito to the stranger.  He said, “I love you, thank you” and I told him, “It’s a bacon breakfast burrito, it’s delicious”.

He said, “You’re awesome”.

And I drove away.

I watched him in my rearview mirror, saw him beginning to unwrap the burrito.

That was it.

An encounter not more than 2 minutes in length.

An exchange between two human beings: one with the power to improve the others’ day; the other, would never be able to repay her.

It just made me think.

How many people in front of me, in that long line of cars on this cold December night, avoided eye contact with this stranger?

How many of them drove right on past him, with overpriced burritos in their cars, heading to their cozy, warm homes…without even giving him a second thought?  If I hadn't driven through tonight, would he have eaten?

How long had he stood there, smelling the food from outside the restaurant, knowing there wasn’t a seat for him at the table inside, because he had nothing in his pockets?

I have never truly gone without.

I have never known true hunger or need.  Even in my worst times, I’ve always had a roof over my head.  I have never had to beg.

Who am I, that I get to buy a giant burrito and a stuffed quesadilla, at midnight, without thinking anything of it? Who am I, that I deserve to go to bed in a warm bed tonight with a full stomach?

I just don’t get it.

I could have decided that I was too tired to care, that my day had been too long, and that I needed to take care of myself now and put myself first and keep myself safe and look out for myself and do what I needed to do for me, because it’s late it’s the middle of the night and this isn’t rational and this is crazy and why didn’t you go straight home and I put up with too much crap at work and I don’t deserve that and what about me and that this guy could hurt me and who knows what he wants and don’t give him money he’ll use it for drugs and you shouldn’t enable because they all need to work and Gilda you work hard for your money you need to guard it more carefully and you can’t save them all Gilda just keep driving just give him an apologetic look on your way and say a prayer for him that God would bless him tonight…

…

If all I have to do to make a difference in the life of my neighbor, is to buy a burrito for someone who hasn’t eaten that day, when I would buy two for myself anyway…why hesitate?

Why not help create a world:

“…where the hungry feast

because the fed

are fasting.

Where I learn to go without so others no longer have to plead

Where there is enough for everyone’s need

But not everyone’s greed…”

I’ll survive without that burrito.  To me, it was extra, something I didn’t really need. To him, it was divine provision.

I hope I gave him hope tonight. 

We can all do so much if we all just look out for one another.

Discipline me, Lord, in the weakening power of Your simplicity. I am so honored to be the blessing.

Love Your Neighbor

A Story That Needs to be Told.

 

Part I: Saturday

November 28, 2015.

It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  Many Americans get extended time with family over this long holiday weekend; eating leftovers, watching movies and football games inside tucked away from the cold, maybe bonding with cousins or little nieces and nephews, or spending special time with Grandma or Grandpa.  On this Saturday, some were already traveling back to their Monday-Friday lives, maybe on planes or in cars with loved ones.

In Salina, Kansas, it was Laundry Love Saturday at Quick & Clean Laundromat on the West end of town.  Thanksgiving brought with it a severe ice storm this year; there were some power outages, many traffic accidents, and wind-chill temperatures that we were not prepared for. 

It was a small red car that drove up to the laundromat that afternoon, shortly after I arrived, carefully making my way across the still-frozen sidewalk and parking lot.  I was bouncing with excitement at the privilege of spending a few minutes saying hello to my friends; I work a second job on Saturdays, and hadn’t gotten to participate in 4^th Saturday Laundry Love in about a year.

Out of the small red car walked two young men, one shorter than the other, both wearing thin hoodies and jeans.  I noticed the shorter young man’s shoes first, as I watched him make his way through the icy parking lot.  They adequately covered his feet, but didn’t look like something I’d want to wear in snow and ice.

While I was talking to a friend, Debbie came and got me.  She had started to offer quarters to the young man, but he didn’t speak English, so she came and got me so I could talk to him in his native Spanish.  I explained what Debbie was trying to offer; a few quarters to pay for your load, something we offer to everyone we see in the laundromat today.  He gratefully, but hesitantly, accepted, and he and his friend moved their laundry into the more spacious machines so they wouldn’t have to cram it into regular-sized washers.  They were washing mostly bedding, their thick, soft blankets that I recognized as being sold in Mexican stores or outdoor markets in the Southern United States.  I had the feeling that maybe the two hadn’t been here long.

I began talking to the young man, whose name, I learned, was Carlos. Carlos had been in Salina for three weeks.  He moved here from Texas, for work, he told me.  “Oh”, I said, “what kind of work?” and he told me, “Restaurant business…I work at Pancho’s.”

I love Pancho’s, so I enthusiastically kept talking to him, and found out that he was working night shift.  His friend who was with him turned out to be his cousin, Emmanuel.  Emmanuel was working two jobs at fast food places.  Emmanuel had been in Salina for about 6 months already, so he knew a bit more about the lay of the land. 

“Wow, you moved here during the worst weather,” I told Carlos, “this must be very different for you.” He told me yes, it was, especially because he had to walk to work every night.  He and Emmanuel worked opposite and overlapping shifts, and Emmanuel was rarely available to give him rides to work. “Oh my goodness”, I said, “Did you walk to work the other night when the ice was falling?”

“Yes,” he said, “and yesterday I fell twice in the morning while I was walking back home”.

I remembered while I was sitting there talking to him, what it was like my first winter in Kansas.  I’m originally from the desert southwest in Arizona, so my heart went out to him because I knew how harsh the change can be.

“Well do you have a coat, are you keeping warm enough?”

He said the hooded sweatshirt on his back was all he had, but he had one other long sleeved shirt on under it. 

“What about shoes? Are these the shoes you walk in?”

He nodded yes.  I could see the struggle and stress his eyes.

“You’re going to get sick! Are you feeling sick already?”

“It’s starting a little bit…”

I said, “Oh, no.  Let me go talk to my friend.  We’ll have some clothes and stuff for you.”

So I went to Debbie and I believe my exact words were, “Red alert, red alert….” I told her what I knew (I had already gotten shoe and shirt sized from Carlos).

So next, I found out where they lived, and got Emmanuel’s phone number.  We couldn’t stop thinking about these two young men, and I went straight home and threw a pile together of my own stuff out of my house that I thought might be useful to them: jars of peanut butter from my pantry, a couple long-sleeved sweatshirts, a pair of gloves, a face mask.  I stopped by K-Mart and bought three bags of ice melt; two for them and one for me.

I met Debbie and her husband at the boys’ apartment later that evening.  Debbie’s husband went in with me and Debbie stayed with their baby granddaughter in the car.  The apartment was the size of my living room.  I couldn’t see the bathroom, but I’m pretty sure there was no kitchen.  There was a hotplate on the ground, and a full-sized mattress on the floor.

The coat we brought for Carlos fit well, and he opened his backpack from Debbie: socks, hand warmers for his coat pockets.  The pair of running shoes we brought him fit.  I explained to him how to use the ice melt; their parking lot at their apartment complex was in as bad shape as I feared.  He walked out with us to the car to thank Debbie, and he gave her a hug.  We said our goodbyes and got in our cars to leave.

I watched Debbie drive away, and I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t think about anything other than how Carlos was sitting by himself in that tiny apartment, with nothing to do, no one to talk to until Emmanuel came home.  I thought about how he probably had no idea how to walk in the snow and ice to avoid falling, how he might not think to pack an extra pair of socks in case his feet got wet walking in the snow, about how the ice storm from the other day was literally the first time these boys had experienced this type of weather.  I thought about how I was once new to Kansas winters, and how scary and foreign it was. 

And I thought about the language barrier on top of all that.  Yes, people can learn English if they move here, but that’s not the point.  The point is, what must it feel like to be alienated from your family, working a night shift at a fast food place, walking to work in ice and snow, in a new world where you can’t even understand what the person in line in front of you at the grocery store is saying?

So I got back out of my car and knocked on the apartment door again.  He answered it still wearing the coat we just gave him. And we walked around the parking lot together and I taught Carlos how to throw down the ice melt.  And when I left, I fought back tears and told him, “Stay encouraged, it’s all gonna be okay.”

Part II: Sunday

I had texted Emmanuel the night before when I got back from dropping things off to his cousin.  Sunday morning came and I was looking at the forecast, knowing there was more ice and snow coming that week.  Through text message, I asked Emmanuel if they had ice scrapers for the car.  He told me no, they hadn’t been able to get any yet.  How they managed during that ice storm, I don’t know, I told myself.

After church, I was on a mission: find these guys some ice scrapers.  Of course, everyone in town was on the same mission for themselves and their families because our recent storm had told us that winter was hitting early.  So I had to go three different places before I found any ice scrapers, and of course they were big, fancy, and not the dollar-store kind.  I kept telling myself, these guys deserve something that’s going to work well.  And I kept thinking, “What else can they do to outsmart the weather?”

I thought of tarps.  Tarps, so they can cover the windshield when ice is in the forecast overnight, genius, Gilda! So I picked up three of those: two for them, and one for me.  I liked how in shopping for my own winter-prep items, I could make sure someone else was taken care of as well. 

I went home and packed up the pile I had thrown together the night before; the sweatshirts, peanut butter, long-sleeved shirts out of my closet, the extra coat I only ever wore when I had to shovel snow.  This time when I visited the apartment, both boys were there, and I explained to them how to use the ice scrapers and what I thought the tarps could be helpful for, and how I hoped the sweatshirts could be useful.  I also got Emmanuel’s shoe size so we could try to find him a pair of winter shoes, as the running shoes he wore were worn through.  Both boys were so thankful, yet still seemed hesitant.  But you could feel the trust between us.

I texted Debbie about every detail from that day.  She wanted to know more.  What did they have? What else did they need? Did I think they could use (item A, B, C)?  I tried my best to answer her questions and help brainstorm about how else we could help.

Monday came and went and all I could think about was those two boys.  How do people in their situation get help, I asked myself.  How do they go to the doctor if they get sick? How do they set up utilities in their apartment? All things I had little control over, yes.  I couldn’t sweep in and save these boys from anything, I knew.  But the desire was there to just try and make life easier for them.

Part III: Tuesday

On Tuesdays, I usually work at my second job in the evenings.  I met Debbie at the Salina Shares building late that afternoon and helped her pull random stuff that we thought the boys could use.  We found a little wooden nightstand that had been in our building for too long without finding a home.  A couple odd-end pots we thought were good for the hotplate; macaroni and cheese; some fleece sheets for the bed; bars of soap and washcloths; a pair of boots for Emmanuel.  We drove it over and left it at their front door, secluded from the rest of the apartment complex by a second door and a little hallway, after texting back and forth with Emmanuel and realizing they weren’t home, but we weren’t going to be able to go back that week.

We got a text from Emmanuel the next day saying they had received everything and that the boots fit, and that they were very thankful.  They were so sorry to have bothered us for so much. The thing was, they had never asked us for anything in the first place.

Part IV: Two Weeks Later

On the third Tuesday of December, I texted Emmanuel to invite the boys to Laundry Love at Speedy Wash on Iron Avenue.  He texted back, “Thank you…but we’ve actually moved back to Texas..thank you again for everything, we were so lucky to meet you ladies.”

I stared at my phone for a few seconds, re-reading the text.  Yes, they really left, my brain registered.  Yes, we really spent all that time worrying about them and finding them stuff, and now they’re gone. 

I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t disappointed.  But mostly, I wondered, “Was life just too hard here for them? Did they not have enough help? Did they feel totally unconnected, and up the creek without a paddle? How did other people treat them while they were here? What made them decide to leave so quickly?”

And then I realized that none of this mattered.  What mattered was that we were obedient to the still, small voice in our heads and hearts that told us, “Clothe your neighbor.  Feed your neighbor.” What mattered was that we were willing to connect, willing to put our vulnerability right next to theirs, and step alongside some complete strangers on their journey, trusting that our paths intersected for a reason. 

For me, it was life-altering.  I had never felt that much of a sense of urgency for complete strangers, never felt so involved in someone’s story.  Maybe it was the fact that I could communicate with them and offer that connection.  Maybe it was that both of these boys could have been my younger brothers, and I felt a sense of responsibility.  Maybe I wanted to experience a little bit of what Debbie did so often, in the earlier days of Salina Shares, when she was getting stopped in her tracks by all these immediate needs, with no plan, no funding, and nothing but the compassion in her heart to guide her decisions. 

I’m thankful for that cold November day.  It, along with the days that followed, reminded me that I’m part of a huge human Family.  And no wind chill can take that warm feeling away.

 

 

Aluminum Cans

10-11-13

I saw him walk up with his bike and lean it against the wall.  I wondered what he was doing, hoping his bike wouldn’t get stolen while he went into the grocery store.  I was on my way out of the grocery store parking lot.

Then I saw him lift the lid on the trash can.  Then I saw the small plastic grocery bag in his hand, already full of aluminum cans. 

Immediately, my heart moved with compassion.  I thought to myself, “Here I go home, with my 8-dollar salad, and this man is collecting a day’s worth of cans to scrap together some change.”

I made the left turn I was waiting for and headed out of the parking lot.  Then I remembered it: the giant Hefty trash bag full of aluminum cans, sitting in my backseat, in my peripheral vision, placed strategically so I wouldn’t forget to take them to the recycling center tomorrow morning.

And I felt it, that familiar, still, small voice, in the back of my head yet oh, so clear:

“Give them to him.”

How quick my brain was to make excuses!  “But I have such a big bag of them, I wonder if he could even manage it on his bicycle.” 

“There’s plastic bottles mixed in with the cans; he won’t want those.”

In about 3 seconds, I found the solution: pull into that empty gravel parking lot, pop the trunk of my car, fish the plastic bottles out, and leave only the cans in the bag.  In the next 2 seconds, I was doing it.

I pictured him putting his small plastic sack inside this big, strong, heavy duty trash bag, half-filled with cans….money. 

I placed the white bag up front with me, and drove back to the grocery store parking lot, expecting to still find him at the same trash can.  He wasn’t there, so I drove in a circle to find him.  I tried to think logically about which direction he may have gone in.  I couldn’t see him, so I stopped and asked the Knights of Columbus representative, who was standing outside the grocery store door collecting change for his cause, if he had seen which way the man had gone. 

“Sorry, no, I didn’t.”

I jumped back in my car and continued to drive slowly the length of the parking lot, and then I saw him through the cars! He was at the end of the parking lot, turning north, heading to the two large dumpsters sitting behind the back doors to a bunch of stores in the little shopping plaza. 

The street and the area behind those stores were completely empty.  No cars, no people.  Only open space and two dumpsters.

I pulled my car into those empty parking spaces and turned South to walk to him.  He was poking his head into the first of the dumpsters when I got to him.

“Sir?”

He turned around.

“I want you to have these.”

“Oh, are these from that liquor store over there?”  (Thinking I was an employee handing him our throwaways, I assume)

“No, I had them in my car.”

“Oh, and you just passed me? Thank you…”

“I was just going to recycle them, but I want you to have them.”

(Laughs, a chuckling laugh, like Santa Claus)

“Well, that’s mighty nice of you, thank you!”

It was like he’d won the lottery.

I walked back to my car, got in, and smiled to myself.  I gave thanks for my open eyes, and for my open heart.  I thought how divinely arranged it all was: the fact that my cat ran out of food just this morning, forcing me to stop at this very grocery store on my way home from work; the fact that I had gathered these cans at F’s house in Ellsworth this week, and he had them all sorted and ready for me to take today; the fact that the recycling center in Ellsworth was already closed, forcing me to bring them to Salina to recycle; the fact that I took a brand-new trash bag from F to bring them in, something I normally wouldn’t have done. 

All for that Santa Claus laugh. 

Attitude of Abundance, Part I

So I’ve been attending Tuesday night dinner at the Rivers’ house.   The Rivers are a family from church; they started opening their home every Tuesday night and feeding a bunch of us young, 20-somethings who have jobs, but no kids and big families, who might get lonely sometimes, and don’t get the privilege of sitting around a family dinner table too often.  It has been so nice getting to know them better and it’s been such a blessing and allowed to grow in my trust for God’s provision for my life.  So many things have come of these Tuesday night dinners, among them this new attitude I have of abundance.  Abundance is a theme at the Rivers house; the word is on all the walls, books, mantels, and tables around. 

And now, I’ve found another writing subject: ABUNDANCE

So, one Tuesday night, Debbie was telling us about how she wanted to put together this “Random Acts of Kindness” Party.  She talked to us a little bit about her idea: several of us would gather and collect items to give away, take a very limited amount of money with us, accept little gift packets from other folks who wanted to share, get in a car, and drive around Salina for a couple of hours.  It would be an adventure to drive around Salina with an open mind and an open heart to see what the Lord wanted us to do to bless someone else that day.  She got the “Ooooh, I want to participate!” from several of us (girls – just sayin’), and so we set a date.

The morning of our “party”, we gathered in Debbie’s living room at 10 am.  We divided up all our supplies between two cars; little gift packets of popcorn and soda; envelopes with encouraging cards and packets of hot chocolate mix inside; laundry packets with quarters and little detergents; 4 dolls to give away to little girls.  The idea was to think outside the box.  We had a designated amount of money so that we wouldn’t feel pressured to provide only blessings that cost us money; it could be as simple as giving people rides or carrying groceries.  We split up into a “young” team and an “old” team, and off we went.

I was designated the driver for the “young” vehicle, which was cool, because I love to drive.  I said, “Okay ladies- so where am I going?” and we took off in the direction of the North end of town.

Our first stop was the library, and it was not a success.  We politely asked the librarians if we could leave her some of the pop/popcorn packages to hand out to families who borrowed movies from the library, and she turned us down because some of our cards read “God bless you.”  Talk about disappointing.

But, we would not be deterred!

The fire station is right across the street, so we ran across, and handed the packages to some firefighters instead.  Success!

Then we discussed where to head next.

Jenna had a specific trailer park in mind.  We drove through, looking for something that we could call a sign from God pointing us in the correct direction.  We saw one lady in a yellow coat walking; but we had already passed her, so we kept driving. In the trailer park, we saw a lady walking around looking very distressed, and we decided she was our first “bless-ee”; so one of us hopped out of the car and handed her a little box of chocolates that was in our giveaway stash.  We didn’t see much of anything else in the parking lot, other than a couple of cats, which of course gave us the idea to bring pet supplies on a future “party”. 

Back on the road, we noticed a young couple with two small children playing at the park; we stopped and gave them some of our individually-packaged cupcakes.  They thanked us with smiles. 

While Katie and Jessica delivered cupcakes, Jenna noticed her lady in the yellow coat continuing to walk in our direction! So she hopped out of the car and walked toward her to start a conversation.  Once Katie and Jessica got back in the car, we drove over to where Jenna informed us that we were giving this lady a ride.  The lady talked about how she had had a very bad night and had been in a fight with her boyfriend who “had a knife to her throat” the night before.  We took this lady back to the trailer park we were at just minutes before.  We gave her cupcakes for her and for her daughter, who she was on her way to see.  She thanked us by saying, “I wish everyone was this nice.”

We decided we wanted to hit up Walmart next, which is on the south side of town.  We were right by the I-70, so we decided to hop on the interstate.  On our way to do so, we drove past a truck stop/travel station/gas station.  We noticed a man carrying a duffel bag walking towards the store.

“Gilda! Turn around! Flip a U-ey!”

So of course, I did (legally, of course).

What we found were two “travelers” sitting on a bench outside the store.  I had five dollars in my pocket from the night before, so I went with Katie and Jessica, who together asked one of the men if they could get him anything from inside.  They took him, and I took the other one.  They bought their guy a cup of soup and a pop, while mine just wanted a fountain drink.  They thanked us by saying, “You’ve done enough, young lady.”

On our way out of the store, we ran into Jenna who had started chatting with a few other “travelers”.  They asked us if we knew of any place they could get a gas voucher, as they were trying to make it to Missouri (they did not ask us for money).  Katie said, “Pull your car up to the pump; I’ll go get my credit card.”  And she filled their tank.  There was a carfull of them, with two dogs as well.  They thanked us with hugs and high-fives.

So, back into the car, and actually onto the interstate we went.  Each time we loaded back in, there was always a couple seconds of reflective silence as each one of us thought about the person we’d just helped.  It was neat to talk about what we had just done and feel our collective compassion for each group of folks we encountered.

We arrived at Walmart, and our first task was gathering carts from the parking lot to take into the store.  We then split up the coupons that were in our stash, and took off in opposite directions to place the coupons next to the items they were for.  We also noticed that the frat from K-State Salina was holding a food drive, so Jessica spent some of our cash and some of her own to buy some items and a can opener, which the boys happily accepted.  We also left baggies of quarters on candy machines and rides for the kids, with notes saying “Enjoy”.

We counted Walmart as a success, and continued our journey.  We decided we wanted to hit a laundrymat, so we picked the one on Iron street, Speedy Wash.  On our way there, we noticed people on the sidewalks, outside of shops and stores.  We got out of the car and handed out the rest of our soda and hot chocolate envelopes, and I scared a mail-lady by running up to her yelling, “Wait!”   When she acknowledged me, I said, “We wanted you to have this” and handed her the popcorn package.  She thought it was very sweet of us.

We all went into the Laundromat and placed our baggies of quarters and detergents, and handed out more cupcakes to the patrons.  On our way back up Iron, while we were heading back to the house, we noticed we still had the two dolls, and that we hadn’t found anyone to give them to yet.  Just then, we noticed “Little girls! Little girls!” coming out of a tattoo shop with what seemed to be their parents.  We pulled over and Katie and Jessica ran out with the dolls and some more packages for the adults.  Jenna and I got to watch the reactions of the little girls who received the dolls. 

Mission accomplished, we headed back to the house and had lunch with the “old” team and traded stories. It was a really unique, liberating way to spend a few hours. 

Blessed Mess

 

"It is such a great feeling to know that I am so strong and centered in what I want and what I am doing, that when someone comes at me with an “irrestible offer”, I am honestly, confidently able to say, “SORRY, BUT YOU’RE WRONG.  I DON’T NEED THIS, BECAUSE I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I NEED.”

 

I’ve decided that I’m a blessed mess.  My life may look like it’s all over the place to some, but to me, it’s exactly the pace I need.  It’s the pace I need to find my passion, my purpose, and my destination.  Moreover, it’s the pace I need to be at peace with my journey.  And, I am! I am at peace being in submission to God, and knowing that His plans are what are best.  I am at peace not owning lots of material things.  That is part of who I am. 

 

While my life may seem overwhelming to others, those looking in from the outside perhaps, I’ve learned that the individuals who truly love me will support me in all I do...I am a lover of humanity.  I don’t have time to waste on earthly things.  I live for love, and I do that in my own way. 

 My life is two things: my church (God), and my job (from God/part of what God has called me to do).  Everything else is not as important. 

 

While everything I do in my life, I only do if I can make sure I do it in Jesus’ name, my church and my job are first.  (I am single with no children)

 

Being a blessed mess means being so caught up in what God has for you, that you don’t care what others think of it.  It means being so in love with all the beauty around you, that you don’t have time for the ugly.  It means being so obsessed with serving others, that yeah, sometimes you don’t make enough time for yourself, and your body comes to screeching halt and screams, “HELLLLPPP!!!”.  (Insert a gallon of orange juice and some chicken noodle soup here)

 

But in the end, you turn out just fine, because you fill your life only with things that grow you toward your purpose.  In my case, I have co-designed this purpose with my Creator. 

This is not complicated.  This is not “all over the place”.  This is grounded. 

It has taken me years to get to this point.  Probably about 12 years, if we’re counting.  I feel like much of the hard work is behind me.  All the moments of crisis, all the panic attacks, feelings of unworthiness or insufficiency, have all led me to this moment in time.  To some that’s complicated.

 

To me, it’s really very simple. "