Answer #1

I am in awe of the incredible support and love already being poured out to me and my family after sharing about my health junk. There is this recurring feeling that so much goodness is in store. 

I am overwhelmed with gratitude to report the first huge answer to prayer! There has been a cancellation in the surgery schedule which has been offered to me for 03.17.2021. That is NEXT WEEK! It is also the 3rd anniversary in which Jack and I got married in the church. What a relief as the anxiety has gotten the best of me in many ways, along with the pain and sleepless nights. The scheduler said it had been a really busy morning but she felt that I needed to be the one to take the date. Through my tears, she knew it was the right call. Answered prayer. 

There is so much more in store. And we now pray that the surgery is a success with absolutely no evidence of disease. I look forward to sharing all of the ways that God is (and has been) orchestrating such amazing details. 

But for now, I am saying a prayer of thanks. A prayer of thanks to and for all of you as well as for the God of details managing every step of the way.

Can't wait to celebrate on the other side!

Not Done Yet.

Celebrating my 14th cancerversary a few weeks back felt incredible as I have had so many great years of health and God's promises since that dreaded day back in January 2007. Ironically, it was right around that date this last January that I started to not feel well. I chalked it up to pandemic life and that I was feeling the weight of the worldly stuff leaning in on me. But the nagging voice continued. I needed answers as to why I was not feeling whole, especially since I had started the year with health and wellness in mind. 

After countless tests and so many medical appointments, all was showing within normal ranges, yet I have felt far from normal. And this last week, my gynecologist ran the blood work again, showing there was a small spike in my CA-125 (my ovarian cancer marker) from the previous test a few weeks back. My number had gone from 18 to 30. Though the spike still showed within normal range, I continued to advocate for myself with my doctors that something was off. Thankfully I have had great medical care and support from my health team along the way. I was sure hoping my instincts we wrong, but I am glad that my worries have been validated by the discovery of what looks to be two cysts on my remaining right ovary in addition to fibroids I already knew I had. 

The oncologist feels the best course of action is a full hysterectomy. We will now await a surgery date and with confidence, we believe that the results will show these are only cysts, with everything contained and easy to remove. We pray that God is using this another as a testament of His mercy and His healing so that I can be the best mom and wife (daughter, sister, friend, etc.) for many more years to come. 

I don't consider it a coincidence that Thomas woke in the middle of the night last night, which these days is a rarity. When I went in to check on him, he was crying asking me to hold him and rock him. I covered us both in his "dirt-dirt" (blanket) and rocked him to sleep. Best hour of my life as I held him close. It is that feeling of peace I pray continues in this next chapter. It is the same way I now approach God as I want Him to hold me close assuring me that all will be ok as I find refuge in His arms. I am beyond grateful that I get to be a mom to Thomas. He is and always be the most treasured gift in my life (along with Jack). I pray for so many more nights that we get to snuggle close. 

At this point, all of the love and prayers are greatly appreciated as we navigate next steps. We also ask that you trust with us that God is at work and that we will get the best news at the conclusion of the surgery. I will use the blog here to keep everyone updated so that we can streamline communication for the time being, but please feel free to text or call which I will answer as I can. Again, we move forward with great hope and confidence that all will be well. 

With love, peace, and hope and so much life ahead. 

.ellen.

The Ultimate Jitterbug.

Gran. Her name is actually Martha Goodsell, but everyone called her Gran. And for those that knew my Gran, know that she took great pride in calling herself a jitterbug. She would shake her fanny and wave her finger singing "Doot doot doot." Her life motto was to never let the grass grow beneath her feet. Safe to say that in her 80 some years of life, that was truly the case. She walked 3 miles everyday (even after a serious accident in which she was struck by a car). She was always riding her bike all over town to deliver the church bulletin and some flowers to those that were sick or living alone. Gran had this heart of gold making everyone around her feel like a treasure. 

It was one of the greatest gifts of my life to live by her and Poppa. They were such fixtures in our daily lives, that I often yearn for those days we could run through the gate to the back door to see what treats she had on the kitchen table or what pies had been baked that day. Gran's sweet tooth ran deeeeeep. She always had the good stuff. 

It is a rare gem to find people like Gran. Her heart was always for others. She spent countless hours on the phone for the church prayer chain. She was always making some kind of pom pom bear or craft for the church bizarre (basically a craft fair). Gran (and Poppa) made Sunday dinners feel like an experience. She had this knack for being able to create this safe space of love with an ear quick to listen. Gran was always at every event from our school concerts, sports events, art shows, you name it. She was there with bells on (or so it seemed). 

Throughout high school and college, Gran was also notorious for slipping me a bit of "coke money." She always had a stash of cash in her china cabinet tea cups. Whenever I had a bad day and was telling her about it at her dining room table where she often sat (the same dining table I now have and spend countless hours with my own family and now serves as my remote office), the conversation would end with her sweet words and a bit of coke money. She was always telling me to go buy a soda or a sweet treat. When I would tell her that sodas didn't cost $20, she would tell me to buy a few or to buy one for a friend. That was Gran to her core. Always looking for ways to make me (and countless others) smile. 

When I was living on campus during college, Gran would call my dorm room often, She would leave these messages saying it was Gran (as if I would forget) and that she loved me. If my roommate answered, she would tell them the same. I must admit that I often took those calls for granted. Looking back, I am amazed at her constant dedication to make those calls so often. And that I was always on her mind. What a gift not only to me but also to my roommates who still recall those calls with Gran. 

As I get older, I find myself striving to be more like her. I am nowhere close. She set the bar so high but one worthy of trying to reach. I want a faith like Gran. I want to have the same heart for others. Her unwavering sense of spirit, witty humor and pizazz for life are definitely an inspiration. 

I hope someday I can be Gran to my grandchildren. I hope that I can share the contagious zest for life that she had on the ready. I hope that I can look fear in the face and keep going as she so often did. We all need a bit of Gran. Grab an extra dessert. Send a friend some coke (or coffee) money just because. Or better yet, go share that treat with them and remind them how much they are truly loved in (and out of) this world. 

Where Are The Bodies Buried?

Do you have those friends that know where the bodies are buried? Of course I don't mean that literally, but who knows all of the tea in your life? I am not talking about the "What do you want to be when you grow up?" kind of conversations. I am talking about the hard stuff. Like "Do you want to be buried or cremated?" and "Who will be guardian of your kids should something happen?" Are you having those hard conversations with anyone? They are uncomfortable, awkward, and often painful, but they need to be had. 

I have had these conversations a lot more recently. There were (and are) a lot of tears. It has been painful, but surprisingly, somewhat therapeutic. It becomes less awkward as we talk and it spurs on all kinds of interesting things to be learned from each other. It is almost like we should have parties at each others' houses to say this is where I keep the checkbook, this is where the passwords are, and this is what  I want when _______ (you fill in the blank). 

It is also a reminder that there is so much value to living in community. As we have all been living in such isolation for the year, that community has become fragmented and distanced. I am guilty of it for sure. I get lost in the land of plastic toys and bubble machines in our backyard, trying to get through the day without worrying if one of us contracted COVID-19 and what our jobs will look like tomorrow. I have been guilty of not leaving voicemails. Preferring a text over a phone call. And email over Zoom. But I have been stopped in my tracks. I am making the phone calls to say the things I mean. I am writing the longer messages to tell people that they are on my heart and mind. I am asking people to come help us care for our son so that we are not always walking in that alone. There is such beauty in the fellowship and also such release from all of the pressures being able to share in those precious moments of life. The other night I asked my mother-in-law and sister-in-law to come help me with Thomas' dinner and night routine. It turned out to be a memory forever etched in my brain as we sat in his room and sang songs. He loved the audience and I loved that he was able to see that there are so many people caring for him and loving him. 

So many times I have found myself saying we need to pause and say what is on our hearts. We need to share where the "bodies are buried." Life is hard enough that we shouldn't be walking it alone. 

Motherhood.

When I was younger and people asked me about my life, I sketched out that I would be married by the 
time I was 22, probably teaching and driving a Volvo of some sort with 3-ish kids in tow. They say that if you want to see God laugh, you should tell Him your plans. I guess I make God laugh a lot because of all those dreams, the only thing to ring true was that I was a teacher, but even that has changed. I did not marry my high school sweetheart as I planned. Instead, I would endure a number of relationships, many of which were unhealthy and toxic to my goals and dreams. It wasn't until I was almost 39 that I became a wife to the man I viewed as my last attempt at online dating. Turns out he was one of the good guys. Pretty thankful I didn't give up looking before he crossed my phone screen.

And though I do not have 3-ish kids thanks to a cancer diagnosis and a completely altered plan, I was a dog mama to the most precious fur baby of all for 13+ years and after I turned 40, I finally held my precious baby boy. Thank you God for modern medicine that helped make him happen. Thomas is truly one of my life's greatest gifts and one of my proudest accomplishments. Not a day goes by that I don't thank God for him. The days are long, and the years are short, but I want to bottle up each memory as a treasure to revisit always. 

It is my goal to always show Thomas (and his dad) just how much I love him, but also how to be the best human he can be. I want to watch him grow, learn, and love life forever. I look forward to the days he starts to make decisions about his future. If he decides to go to college, where will he choose? What career path does he have in mind? Will he get married? Does he have kids? (The thought of hugging my future grandbabies sounds delicious.) Will he travel? Where will he live? Ultimately, any decision he makes, I am his biggest cheerleader. May he always know that he makes his mama proud and that my love for him is endless. 

But there are definitely some things I also want to teach him...

 

1. Love God. First and foremost. If you put God as the center of your life, your every decision, your path will always be made straight. It won't always be easy and the road may be narrow, but trust me, it is the road you want. God is always good. He is always faithful. His ways are higher than our own. And His plan will always be better - it may not always make sense, but trust it. 

2. Be a gentleman. Always. Open doors. Offer your seat, your jacket, a helping hand. It is not because others are weak, but because you value them more and want to be respectful and helpful. 

3. Dream bigger. 

4. Laugh a lot. 

5. Find a partner that honors you, respects you, supports you, and cherishes you. You are a treasure. Reciprocate these things. 

6. Give gifts for no reason. 

7. Speak your mind. Respectfully. 

8. Be spontaneous. Take the road trip. Dive in. Stay up late. Catch the sunset or the sunrise. 

9. Be memorable in the best way possible. 

10. Call your mom (and dad). Often. 

11. Say "I love you." Mean it. 

12. Lead with integrity. Never expect someone to do something you won't do so work harder and smarter, but don't let work be the reason you miss the important stuff.

13. Rise above the challenges. 

14. Know your worth. 

15. Wear sunscreen. 

16. Have a strong handshake but also a big hug ready when needed. 

17. Remember it is ok to cry. 

18. Never stop reading, including your Bible. 

19. Watch "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium." It is one of my all-time favorites. And remember, before you reach your final act, that your life is an occasion. Rise to it. 

19. Always hug your mama. 

I love you infinity, Thomas. Mama has a lot more things to share with you, but for now, this will do. 

Mamas, hugs your babies tight tonight. Thank God for these precious gifts. And those of you that aren't mamas, but hope to be, I see you. I know the ache in the waiting. God's plans are always better. Always. 

Twelve.

Today marks my twelfth cancer-versary. TWELVE years ago, a phone call from my doctor, diagnosing me with Stage III ovarian cancer, forever changing my life. That moment will never be lost in my memory bank. In the first year, there were so many days and moments to process emotions and to get my game plan in place. However, every year after, I have chosen to "celebrate" this day. In some ways it feels like an additional birthday as it is a reminder of another year that the cancer has stayed at bay.

I used to do a little campaign to friends and family on this day to wear teal (#fortheloveofovaries). Scrolling through my Facebook memories, it has been a sweet reminder of so many that have walked in this journey with me. The countless folks that wore teal, or sent photos of something teal, or inspirational quotes. The power of those gestures will always spark a feeling of such joy, strength, and encouragement.

And so today, once again, I set aside some time to think, reflect, and count my blessings. I choose to see this day as a day to stand in solidarity with those fighting in the cancer battle and to honor those that have passed on fighting the good fight. I think of the caregivers. I remember the doctors. And I pray for the families that have lost loved ones to cancer. I know your pain. There aren't words to take that pain away, but I can tell you that cancer can't ever rob you of the memories you shared with those loved ones. Honor them by keeping their stories alive.

Rather than let cancer rob me of joy, I have continued to allow it to be part of my story as a survivor, but survivor's guilt is real. There are often more questions than answers. And the emotions are still a constant navigation.

It seems like yesterday, I was recently engaged and trying to get a fertility plan in place. And so this year takes on new meaning in my cancer journey as I stare at my newborn on the baby monitor while I jot down these thoughts. There is a physical reminder that sleeps in the next room adding another chapter to my continuing story. I guess sometimes things do go as planned (or even better than the plan). This newborn I was told would most likely never come to be, is here and healthy. This miraculous gift of motherhood, I will never take for granted. This baby boy is yet another reason to never give up hope and to know that stories often take unexpected turns that can lead to some of the most rewarding and precious chapters.

So here is to year twelve. For the love of ovaries and another year with gratitude.

Where Has the Time Gone?

It has been way too long since I have sat down to write. I guess that is what happens in the midst of a whirlwind year and then some from getting engaged, to married, and now a pregnancy (!!!). Not to mention a few more address changes (not starting that kind of chapter again!). And I have officially become Catholic. Of course, we have had so many other things mixed in to all of that like a fabulous honeymoon, Stella having two different surgeries, my mother getting married and moving to Idaho, as well as making memories with friends and family. It is evident that we do not believe in dull moments in our household. I suppose I am the one that bring that piece to the relationship as I married the most stable and steady man on the planet.

Poppa Tom

Though there has been much to celebrate, there is also a lot that has been lost. Sadly, my father-in-law has gone to his eternal home in July of 2017 after a brief battle with cancer. That was a very hard goodbye. I will forever consider myself blessed to have married into this family and to get to call him my father-in-law. Just as I think my own dad hung the moon, Poppa Tom definitely made me feel like I had just the right place in the family, marrying his only son. We also sadly lost Jack's cousin, Michael, in the fall, and not even a year after Tom's passing, my uncle Ed has joined them in heaven with his unexpected earthly departure in April.

Our original due date was November 6,
but we are now scheduled
for our c-section on October 15. 

As the days, weeks, and months have flown by, here we are about 6 weeks away from meeting our little boy (Stella is going to be a big sister!). This pregnancy has gone so quickly in many respects, but in other ways (like the lack of sleep, the endless appointments, and the bouts of "morning" sickness), it has inched by. I can't believe that I am going to be a mom! Finding out I was pregnant was one of the greatest moments of my life as I was crying in the bathroom texting my friend Julie the photo of the pee stick in the early morning hours, while Jack was still quite asleep in our room unbeknownst to my bathroom activities. I am sure that my tears were a lovely way to wake up as he didn't know what was going on. One of my favorite moments in this pregnancy besides announcing it and all the fun milestones, I enjoyed the reaction of our doctor when we told him that the pregnancy test was positive. He was quite surprised, saying our news was "remarkable." It was as if we hadn't been planning this whole thing and meeting with him for countless appointments prior to making it actually happen. I guess the odds were somewhat stacked against us, but we know that God is bigger and He did not disappoint. And of course, I believe that God has a sense of humor, considering it no coincidence that our original due date also marks the birthday of my late grandma (Nancy). And then finding out that we were having a boy just days before Jack's birthday and our first anniversary was literal icing on the cake.

My belly has grown to the size of a basketball as I am halfway through week 30, to which I am daily giving thanks for the healthy baby that lives within me (along with a handful of pesky fibroids). He is constantly kickboxing or disco dancing, which is always fun (except when it keeps me up all night). Amazing that half an ovary and a cancer history still allows for modern science and God's hand to give us a somewhat "normal" pregnancy through just one (very long round) of a successful fertility treatment. Other than being diagnosed with anemia and a placenta previa, I am beyond grateful that all has been relatively smooth throughout the last 7 1/2 months and our boy is healthy (with really long legs).

Our miracle baby.

I am also thankful for a husband that has been championing us through all of the stages of pregnancy with his patience and attentiveness. He was an excellent nurse getting us to this point with the daily doses of shots and medications that had to be perfectly administered for us to even get here. He has made sure that my baths are not too hot, that there is ice cream in the freezer, entertained my chili cheese fries craving, and secured me with the right amount of pillows when I try to sleep. It will be exciting to see him enter this chapter as a dad. I know that this boy will be lucky to have him and I am counting my blessings that we get to add this baby to our family.

Throughout the pregnancy, it has been another reminder of the great village we have around us, as if we could ever forget. We have felt the prayers. We have experienced the joys, the love, the generosity, the care, concern, and the uncontainable excitement.  We have been blessed through two very special baby showers given by people so incredibly dear to me / us. We have been showered with so many special gifts, love, and positive energy as we get ready for this baby's arrival. It is a lot like getting married when you feel so much love and support for such a season of life, but this time your love produces a tiny human claiming the hearts of us all.

Though I know we will soon be swimming in poopy diapers, endless feedings, and piles of laundry, I hope to carve out a bit more time to document this next chapter. I don't want to lose sight of the precious memories and moments to come.

Thankful for our growing miracle.


*And for those of you in the midst of infertility, for what it is worth, I see you. It is a gnarly roller coaster of emotions, appointments and decisions. Whatever path you are choosing to take, I support you. I am in your corner. I am praying for you and with you. Loving on you. Hoping for you. And willing to sit through any of the stages with you. I am willing to share our own path for those that may want to reach out for thoughts, advice, tips, and tricks. Again, for what it is all worth as I am not an expert, but a fellow sister that has been on the journey. xo.

One Thing Remains.

And I mean that in more ways than one. Every song this morning was a reminder of God's faithfulness. Count it no coincidence that it was en route to the fertility doctor appointment these songs played. I wish I could say I was in the "go get 'em" mindset, but the weekend was a blip on the radar and though I had a great time with my future mother-in-law and my youngest sister-in-law doing wedding things, I feel like the weekend was overshadowed by a sick puppy and a broken down truck. Mind you said sick puppy woke me every hour last night to go outside to be sick. So when the radio played a series of songs that were pretty much hand-selected for me, I was stopped in my tracks to remember life is beautiful, even in the chaos.

The fertility appointment had a bit of pleasant news as one of the growths is no longer seen on the ultrasound. And the other growth looks to be a bit smaller, which is also a great indication. We are waiting on bloodwork to see if we can start the meds, but at least I am hopeful. Cancer is not spreading today. For that, I have a grateful heart. And that broken truck turned out to only be a dead battery.

And then on my way to work after the appointment, this was the song bringing me to tears.

"One Thing Remains"

Higher than the mountains that I face
Stronger than the power of the grave
Constant through the trial and the change
One thing remains

Your love never fails, it never gives up
It never runs out on me

On and on and on and on it goes
For it overwhelms and satisfies my soul
And I never ever have to be afraid
One thing remains

Your love never fails, it never gives up 
It never runs out on me

Your love

Folks, one thing remains. His love (and only *one smaller* growth).

Thanks, Plenty of Fish.

Disclaimer: This is our dating story leading to our proposal. It could include mushy details and/or be somewhat longwinded. Read at your own risk, especially knowing I have deemed 2016 as the Year of Adventure.

So let's begin by saying, thanks Plenty of Fish. We have a match. And if I do say so myself, a very good one. In fact, we are one of the statistics that prove the successes of online dating, but not without our share of entertaining curveballs.

To be honest, I was ready to throw in the online towel after a very colorful string of dates (Besides the non-committal type, I had the likes of those that forgot to mention they were still married, had multiple unmentioned children, excessive neck tattoos or rap sheets a mile long. And we won't even get started about the guy claiming to be the next Christian Grey...insert major eye rolling and ewwww). I was over it. My dating history could be a never-ending season of The Bachelorette. Each bachelor had a nickname. I knew that soon I would end up on the news or running for my life in this dating drama.

So it was when I stumbled across Jack's profile, I found myself quickly amused by his interests and likes which included family, craft beer, blueberries, broken-in jeans, green tea, hiking, and sharks with lasers (huh?!--but sold.). It was easy to see his quirky personality I could easily be attracted to, but also his authenticity that was quickly communicated.

I decided to add him to my favorite list without hesitation. But being that he said he wanted his matches to say more than a few words, I needed to craft the perfect balance of sarcasm and interest to catch his eye. To my negligence however, it alerted him that I added him to my favorites but with no message. And if you know Jack, he was quick on the draw with a punchy message to me about it. Fast forward a few messages of wit and sarcasm to when he (finally) asked for my phone number. At this point, I felt pretty good that he was not going to chop me up into bits or steal my dog or my identity. I gave him my number.

But you guys, I gave him the wrong area code. Oh balls. He thought I was a mail order bride scamming him for money. True story. I was waiting for this thing to crash and burn, but he let me try again with the right phone number so that we could talk, which we did. I had to drive to a grocery store parking lot just to talk to him because I didn't get any reception in my house and God forbid I drop the call a million times. He would've definitely abandoned ship.

Fast forward a few calls to our first date, which involved craft beer and walking through town, talking endlessly. We had a few more dates like that when I realized this guy was legit. Strange thing was that I couldn't nickname this guy. He was in a league all of his own. He was speaking my language and perhaps I was speaking his. Somewhere along the lines we decided to shut down our profiles and do this thing. Over the course of the next months, we met families, endured a few career shifts and changes, and then my unexpected cancer news earlier this year. Jack never wavered from any of challenge presented. He has stood by the fact that we are better together, like our own wolfpack, especially once you add Stella ("we're the three best friends...").

Four hundred and eighty-four days after our first conversation, Jack was on his knee in the Orange Circle, right near home and the place of many memories, proposing to me wearing a usual oversized cotton tunic and favorite broken-in jeans kind of glory with the cotton still taped to our arms from earlier blood work we had done (talk about a hot date...). Funny that I had been focused on lunch all morning, while he had been focused on making sure there was still a ring in his pocket. Needless to say, I freaked out (a lot) when I saw Jack on his knee. I had absolutely NO clue it was coming. But that is exactly as I would dream it and then some. Especially when I kept asking what the heck he was doing as it felt so surreal hearing the magical marry me words. And of course, I cried (and freaked out) even more when I saw the ring he had designed for me. With my entire being, my answer is, was, and always will be YES!


I am still on Cloud Infinity with my favorite human (and our favorite puppy, Stella). The proposal was completely perfect. Good job, Jack. All the feelings happening here for us. It is all so overwhelming in the very best way. This has been one insane ride I wouldn't trade for the world. I have decided to nickname him: Husband. It has a good ring to it (pun *sort of* unintended).

In the end, I get to be this guy's forever bride, even if I did unintentionally give him the wrong phone number. He's got the right one now.

So, thanks Plenty of Fish. You can officially delete our dating profiles because we are getting MARRIED!

Reset Button and then Reset Again. Then one more time.

Oh balls...it has been one heck of a wild ride since leaving my job weeks ago. And just when I thought I had it all figured out, I have had to hit the reset button not once, not twice, but three times until I could finally get it right. It is no accident that in the last few weeks I have learned that I've been running 100 mph for so long that now everyone seems snail paced.I have also learned how to check my ego, how to value my worth, and that the grass is not always greener. But through it all, I am strong and I am finding my groove again.

I am thankful that I have met some amazing people along the way in the recent journey. Genuinely good people that I wish nothing but good on. This is more about learning that since leaving the teaching profession, my heart has not been settled. As I was so heavily involved with my kids as a teacher and coach, I have yearned (without realizing), that I find such joy in helping people. It is in my nature to serve and support. I have a need to be needed. The dichotomy comes in my creative brain that thrives in chaos. It has created such a challenge professionally as I find that one is sacrificed for the other. In a perfect and hopeful world, both will find equal place.

What I have learned in recent weeks is that the man I do life with is incredibly patient, kind, supportive and all things good for me. As I tend to find myself on the roller coaster time and time again, he stands by while I loop around one too many times without an I told you so on his breath (though I think he keeps those thoughts quietly in his back pocket). Bless him for enduring. And for his bouts of humor.

I have also learned that I'm impatient and often in the worst ways. I knew this about myself but have had to finally admit it begrudgingly. It does cause for a few eye rolls.

I am learning that doing life with intention is not easy. Life is messy. Sometimes life sucks, but life is also beautiful. There is a lot of hurt in the midst, but I have hope in the healing. Life can be chaos, but there is calm before and after the storms. I color in chaos.

In putting down roots again, there is vulnerability. True commitment stays, even when things get ugly. You can't run or hide when things get tough or uncomfortable. I want to be in it for the long haul. I want moments of joy to be etched in my memory bank as a well of resource when there are moments of drought.

For the most part, I am back in my own skin. My body is still somewhat tired (especially after starting Pure Barre, but I'll save that for a future post) but my soul is reenergized. Travel has done my heart well. I've spent time in Idaho with some of my favies and also took a long overdue vacation with an open ended agenda. It was an incredible coastal trip with my favorite companion. Lots of outdoor adventures, food indulges, and some great wine with amazing weather in the quaintest cabin made for moments to treasure along with the rocks and shells we brought home.

All to say, I'm indulging in my art again, getting healthy, cooking a lot (and actually well!), and enjoying the company I keep. Like the year I moved 8 times, and the year I went through meeting a ton of new people in my relationship transition, this Year of Adventure has led to significant professional change(s). But like the other changes, I'm finding myself in an even better place than I would imagine as it is opening the future for good.

So I will keep on dreaming. I will take the risks. And live just on the outskirts of my comfort zone. I will breathe deeply. I will look for joy, even in the desert moments. I encourage you to do the same. Trust me. It's where you find the treasure.

My Hallelujah Shoes.

January 28, 2016: Hallelujah shoes.

I do declare that these are my hallelujah shoes. In all that has been happening, I have intentionally been taking shoe photos, whether in the doctor's office, waiting for blood work, walking Stella, or just running an errand. Because no matter what is going on, I am going to find ways to celebrate by documenting the shoes I wear on that particular day or moment. I commemorate with one thing that I can control in all of this...my choice of shoes. I can't control the outcome, but I can control how I react (and of course, what shoes I wear). Bear with the idea that this is my journey. This is my story. And these are my hallelujah shoes.

Yesterday gave plenty of reason for a hallelujah. At the eleventh hour, during my pre-op madness, my pathology report had come in. Coincidence? I think not. And Dr. L asked me to wait so we could discuss. I didn't have the nerve to tell him I was trying to rush out as I didn't really want to hear the news and I was trying to squeeze in my EKG before work. Oy vei.

But I waited. And in he came with a smirk on his face (and what I think was a tear in his eye). He said,  "I don't know what you did, kid, but there is no trace of cancer here." NO. TRACE. OF. CANCER. After 3 different doctors were all preparing and assuming for this to be breast cancer (especially with my health history of already being a Stage III survivor and a likely candidate of carrying the BRCA gene), I was preparing for the best outcomes as it all appeared to be in early stages, but...there is NO. TRACE. OF CANCER. I had an army of people praying over me. This is God's answer. I didn't have to do anything, Dr. L, but trust and hope.

Even Dr. K's office called to tell me "Congratulations" as they had gotten word that my pathology showed no trace of cancer. Lumpectomy = cancelled. So Monday, I will have only one cancer surgery rather than two. Crazy to celebrate such things, but I am thankful that my recovery will be half of what I was expecting. (Plus, I wasn't sure I was mentally ready to have a hat trick on cancer.)

As I have to go under for this surgery, prayer appreciated for a routine procedure and no issues with my heart as that was a concern in my last surgery. I have two weeks to lay low until the wounds are healed up.

There is joy in the journey. In whatever your situation, put on your hallelujah shoes, people.

The J Collection.

xoxoxo for the well wishes.

It is no secret that somehow along the way, I have collected a handful of J's, many of which I hold near and dear. And two of my favorite J's sent some gorgeous flowers to my house in well wishes. Note, the flowers were all in shades of orange, which I know was purposeful as they coordinate with the city in which I now live. **insert fluttering heart for that attention to detail**

I am ready to get this chapter underway. I have come to terms that I have cancer, yet again. The tiresome days are starting to wear as we are in the nitty gritty days of moving as well as the overall feeling of just knowing what is to come. I am 100% ready to kick this thing. As well, I am reveling in the creativity that is starting to flow. Crisis has a way of awakening the sleeping giants. And let me tell you, this cancer journey (times 3) is a story in the making.

January 30 will mark Cancer-versary #9, marking another year to wear teal. If you choose to join in on the teal on that day, please use #fortheloveofovaries on your social media and tag me in any posts as I am still making my yearly collage to mark the day of life and celebration, as well as bring awareness to ovarian cancer fighters and survivors.

xoxoxo.
.ellen.

Sidenote: I am forever grateful for the outpouring of love, calls, visits, offers to help. As there are moments that this is all quite overwhelming, please forgive me if my response time is delayed slightly as I am still working full time until surgery, in the midst of moving, and scheduling a large handful or pre-op and post-op appointments as well as preparing for the few weeks out of the office.

More Ice Cream.

I am almost positive I heard Dr. K tell me to celebrate with ice cream and a Powerball ticket after my appointment yesterday. Ok, so maybe it was just to buy a lottery ticket as I am due for some good luck, but ice cream was still needed. And I may or may not blame the fact that my sister doesn't have Rite-Aid/Thrifty ice cream in Idaho, she *needed* to have a big fat scoop (or two) of chocolate malted crunch with me. It has been really fun having her in town. Definitely was good for my spirits (but not for my waistline).

I can't lie that today feels like a new day after a good night of rest (finally) and after meeting my new oncologist. Dr. K is gifted in all of the right areas, specializing in breast cancer and melanoma. Can't go wrong that she is also a UCLA grad. (of course, divine intervention) Dr. K has given a very clear action plan, so now it just feels like we need to put it in place. And until that plan takes action, I can sleep that much better knowing we've got this.

Diagnosis is definitely melanoma. And as cancer is cancer, she said we are looking at a curable situation as we are still in early stages (praise be). And based on pathology, we are assuming breast cancer as well, but again, at an early stage that can be cured with a lumpectomy. Thankfully, Dr. K can perform both surgeries so I only have to go under once. (I swear I will eventually conquer my fear of needles.)

Dr. K has already been in conversation with Dr. L to make sure there is a good knowledge of my health history. Their conversation was actually quite tender as Dr. L expressed his concern for wanting to make sure that I am ok and Dr. K telling him she has a genuine heart for me. You really couldn't ask for doctors with any better bedside than these two.

Surgery is set for February 1. I will be out for a few weeks to recover if all goes as planned. As I have a few weeks from surgery, this will give time to get pre-op done as well as finish moving. (yes, I am moving again.) Timing will be good for things on the work front as well as getting Stella adjusted to our new house to avoid a pee monster situation. And as I will be adjusting in the new house, I will have a chance to get settled since I will not be allowed to leave the house much after surgery to avoid potential infections.

There will be a handful of co-pays to handle, but should be manageable and thankfully, I have insurance. I will need help doing life for a bit, but I have good people and family around me that will make this so easy. And it is a good excuse to hang out with folks as life often gets in the way. Plus, I have Jack. And he comes with one heck of an army ready to help.

All to say, I feel very fortunate to have such an amazing doctor, but also to feel such love and support from everyone. It is another one of those chapters that reminds me of God's faithfulness. I am feeling such peace in what should once again be a time of incredible fear.

Cancer, thank you. We are going to kick you this round too.

Un-school.

It is my second year of un-school. I survived my first summer with a full-time job. Yes, you read that correctly. I have never worked a real full-time job during the summer in my entire life. It is not a solicitation for sympathy, but a statement of fact. So after 17 first days of school as a student and then 14 more as a teacher (yep, that is a total of 31 school year photos), I see all of the "first day of school" photos all over social media and for a split second, my former life comes into focus. And do I miss it? Nope. Not one ounce. Don't get my wrong, I treasure my years as a student and as a teacher, but the freedom in this life is astronomical.

Grandpa.

In the recent passing of my last grandparent (rest in peace, dear Grandpa), thoughts of my upbringing and family come in to conversation, particularly when it coincides with a rather recent dating relationship as you learn about each other in the various lie aspects. The reoccurring theme for me in conversation is realizing that in my nature, I have been quite a people pleaser, which is ironic being that I had/have such a stubborn streak. It all ties back to life as a teacher.

Growing up, I wanted to be a lot of things. I know there was a time, though brief, that I wanted to be an astronaut. I was told that girls can't be astronauts, so there was that (Where was my girl power then?). And then when I wanted to be a doctor, I remember my grandpa asking me if someone came to me with a face gushing blood, could I stitch them up? So ended my medical career before it could even begin. And as I knew that it was in my nature to teach, a job fair at Biola where Whittier Christian was in attendance, I had a conversation with some of the folk and weeks later I was setting up a classroom. I had become everything I swore I never would.

And though I have reflected on life as a teacher in past posts, I am now celebrating one full year in this new life commemorated in my first annual review yesterday with the owners of the company I now work. I know that in the past, I have had a few asses for bosses that destroyed my sense of being and then some that I cherish for the way that they built my spirit. This was evident in my feeling of the review as I walked in feeling no hesitation as to my value. I was not nervous. I was not apprehensive. All to say that I obviously work in an environment that helps me thrive. I am able to feel empowered and encouraged in who I am. There is a dynamic that is a valued nucleus. And more importantly, I am not following the path of familiarity or what is considered safe and stable. I can have my hair purple. Not worry about any visible tattoos. To not feel stifled in creativity. I have spent the last year and some by finally chasing my own dreams.  Not the dreams others have dreamt for me. This chapter has given me strength to not let others dictate my dreams. It may come across in a form of rebelliousness, which is not intended (though we all have a bit of that in our nature, perhaps). Rather, I think this is more about freedom. I am free to embrace the person within and not feel shame. It is awesome and exhausting all at once. It is not something I can shut off.

My second year of un-school photo.
In New York.
For work.
Nope. Can't complain.

There is a positive energy to fill my world and yours. God is still at work. One is never too old to chase dreams. One is never too old for a do-over. Or a second chance. Go get 'em, kids.

So here is to my own second official year of un-school. Cheers.

Theme Park For Sale.

Since my accident a few weeks ago, it feels as though the theme park has been busier than ever. The carousel of chaos continues to spin. The roller coaster dips are getting more intense. And the nausea from it all is in full effect. Thankfully most of the physical wounds have healed from the accident, but there are wounds of the heart that are now surfacing.

After what I consider to be a moment of cheating death yet again after the car accident, I had the come to Jesus moment when I could quickly look at my priorities and figure out what truly mattered. Similar to life after cancer, but this was more of a flash bang. What matters most is people. Loving them. Enjoying them. And treasuring them. Because time on this earth is short and you don't always get to cheat death. Sometimes heaven calls those we love home and it just seems too soon.

We don't always get enough time to love. A former student of mine went to be with Jesus this last week after a motorcycle accident. In his early 20's, he was called home. I remember vividly his mannerisms. He drove me crazy in the classroom. But students like him were my favorite. They made my job as a teacher challenging and entertaining. I used to call his name out constantly in class. And in an instant, he is now gone. His parents made the brave decision to keep him on life support until his organs could be donated. What an incredibly selfless moment that must have been. Heaven got an angel that will surely keep heaven on its toes. What a gift.

Another dear friend was called home in the last few days which has also caused the tears to flow. She was one of the dearest, most loving women that was always caring and smiling, despite the pain she quietly carried. I can't thank her enough for entrusting me with her deepest secrets, but also allowing me to share in mine. To be completely honest, she walked with me in some of my darkest valleys. My calm in the storm. There were nights she would stay on the phone with me until all hours of the morning until my heart was calm enough to sleep. In a moment, she too is gone. I know her sadness all to well as I have been there. The pain she carried was too heavy to bear. I get it. I don't want to believe it, but I sadly understand. She died to what I believe was a broken heart. I wish I had known her pain had grown so incredibly deep. She hid her hurts from others so well with her love and her smile, but I can't help but wonder how I could've talked and listened to her this time until the pain had subsided. Her two boys were her entire life and love. And they are left to pick up the pieces. My prayer is that truth is understood and that those boys know how much she lived and loved for them. I could only hope that someday I could be half the mother she was with such love and devotion.

Heaven now has two incredible angels that were called home too what I think from earthly eyes, was too soon.

It makes me wonder why He took them home, yet I continue to get extra lives. It is becoming more evident that there is a calling on my life that I just don't yet understand and a job to do that perhaps I am not yet aware. But that doesn't mean the earthly pain goes away with losses like these. It is apparent that my life as a teacher is not a finished career as many of the students and families are still very much part of my story. I cry out wondering when the spinning will stop. I often pray to God asking Him when will the good parts will happen. Just when I think I have it all figured out, there is another dip in the ride. The pain gets exhausting. The carousel continues to go around and around.


I do, however, see God answering prayers. In my own situations, God provided a "new" car to me after I was so discouraged thinking I would be hoofing it. And you know, the car He provided is perfect for me. Money was provided in ways I could not have imagined. I had good advice from some dear people that guided me to this decision as I was struggling to figure out what Ellen wanted instead of listening to all of the other voices. And not only does my new ride exceed my checklist with features I didn't think I could afford, it was exactly $1 under the budget I set for myself. Answered prayer.

The relationship roller coaster has been my ride of choice over the last decade. And though the ride has had different names and faces, I somehow find myself in the same peaks and dips that result in pain. Obviously relationships are going to have their highs and lows, but I find myself in a state of nausea and white knuckles all too often. I wonder if I am the common denominator to it, or if this is just part of my story. Perhaps it is a combination of both. And someday I will tell my story and be able to say that it was all worth it.

My heart continues to ache. My eyes are swollen from the tears that have been shed. And it is supposed to be my birthday weekend. It is apparent that my birthday will look much different than I anticipated. I will make the most of it. I will look for reasons to celebrate. I will look to love those around me. At this point, it will be friendships, tattoos and wine as part of the festivities. But most important, I will love. I will seek ways to find joy.

I also know, that beyond my birthday, I have a theme park for sale. As much as I love excitement, thrill, and adventure, I am not sure I can continue to endure the roller coaster rides. I prefer something that looks more like the swings, even if they are the ones that go around in circles as it lifts you higher so you can dangle your feet.

"Be still and know that I am God." --Psalm 46:10

And for those that are on the roller coaster, I want to share a song by a band called Gungor, "Beautiful Things." It plays on repeat for me.

EGBOK.

Crash Landing.

April 4, 2015. I think I may have used yet another life early that morning. In fact, I used it for the scariest moment of life yet. Ironic that it was the early morning after Good Friday? I think not. There were some definite connections made there in the reflections.

I was on my way home. It was a bit later than usual. And I was on a toll road I had not traveled. Unfortunately, as most know, I am geographically challenged. And as I was confused in my sense of direction, glancing at the GPS for a split second to decipher the 241 and the 261, I looked up to swerving which sent my car rolling. I rolled what I think to be 3 times, landing upside down in a ditch. By God's grace, not only was I alive, but my cell phone had landed right in front of me. I immediately dialed 911 after I was able to get my seatbelt loose. I then kicked out the passenger door as the driver's side was jammed shut.

A cop was doing a traffic stop on the overpass above and heard the crash. He was with me within the minute. He found me gathering my belongings from the freeway as things were everywhere.

I can't say that the officer was kind. Or helpful. In fact, I found him to be rude and annoyed. And the highway patrol was no better, which is unfortunate as I am usually a big fan. It wasn't until after I passed the field sobriety tests that they were nicer.

All to say, that after my car was loaded onto the flatbed of the tow truck, the one officer said to me that I was lucky to be alive. He said he has seen many accidents and not only should I be thankful to be alive, but how in the world am I walking away from this?! Grace.

I was able to walk away on my own accord. I had cuts on my hands, feets, and lower back (and later found glass in my head), but other than my cuts, scratches, and bruises, I never once blacked out. I did not break one bone (that I know of). And from the looks of it, my whiplash and pain is minimal too, considering.

There are answers I wish I had about why this happened as I seem to always have a story to tell. It is yet another challenge to overcome. And I liked my little car. It was special to me and had a sweet memory of my dad and I buying it. But in the midst of this crash, what flashed before me was those that I love. Cheesy as it may be, I was reminded again that I am on this earth for a purpose. That I have such an amazing group of people that love me and I love them. That I am not alone, despite the years I felt alone in a crowded room. I am very much surrounded by people that care. People that notice me. People that reach out. Love. Pray. Support. And cherish. I have relationships that matter. People that make me a better person because they are in my life. And hopefully I return the favor.

It was in the moments after the accident, that in my gut reactions of who to call, that I quickly learned my list of priorities. Friends have taken my broken pieces (not the broken car) and hugged me so tight that I am hopeful that there really are good people out there. Especially the good ones that bring out the best. I still struggle to build trust as my track record in dating is still questionable, but this is part of the process. I have to believe that good things might actually happen eventually and that it isn't always going to be a nauseating roller coaster that I am tired of riding. Happiness and joy in life is found in who you build it with. And I get to build with some incredible people.

Having said that, my job on this earth is far from done. I want to be a daughter. A sister. A colleague. A friend. A roommate. A someday wife and mother. I want to keep living life to the fullest. I want those around me to know how much I love them. They are my world. And I will spend my days spent with those I love. Doing what I love.

In the aftermath of the accident, I love that two of my dearest friends teared up when seeing me as they were both just so happy I was in their presence. Those are the people I want to hold dear. I love that Jolie and Michelle came over to inspect me. To hug me. Then to help me clean out my glass filled, beat up car. That Julie had me for dinner just so that I could be at "home." And to have some joy in being with her family and the little ones I love.

I am now faced with the aftermath of the serious accident. My car is totaled. Trust. But I have been given a car to borrow in the meantime. Grace. I am in pain. But someone graciously scheduled and paid for me to have acupuncture. Healing. I am sad. Yet the outpouring of texts, calls, Facebook comments, and messages have given me joy. Love. I am in the market for a new car, which is stressful, but I have a dad, a boyfriend, a friend, and a boss all wanting to go to battle to help me get a good car. Faith.

It goes without saying that on Good Friday, Jesus died. He died for a specific reason. I am the reason. So are you. He died because we are not perfect. We have made and continue to make mistakes. We screw up daily. But, He died for love. And in His death, there is also resurrection. Three days later, He arose. And we can now live in His grace and forgiveness. Because He lives, we can face tomorrow. Even when it is overwhelming, scary, or thrilling.

All to say, I am a cat on borrowed lives as I think I used the 9 surviving a black widow bite and cancer and now this. The night of the crash, I can be thankful that Stella was not with me. I can be thankful nobody else was involved. I can be thankful that I walked away. I can be thankful that I get to see another day. I can be thankful my phone landed right in front of me so that I could call 911. I can be thankful that I do not have lasting physical scars from the accident. No broken bones. I can be thankful for so much in all of this. And again, I know that my job on this earth is not yet done. And for that, I can wake up and give thanks. The theme for 2015 is "Let's Be Rad." Can't say how rad this is, but I have faith that good will come of it.

God is good. Even at 2am on a toll road in Irvine.

Tsunami of Awesome.

(This post was actually written September 14, 2014)

As it seems, I have often used the word "journey" to describe the last year and a half (or perhaps back even further). Almost like the way we used "intentional" during our Biola days. I cringe in fear that it may seem trite or cliche, which is not my goal. I tell you that I am not the same person that started this journey so many months ago. Perhaps it defeats the purpose if I have to say that, but I think that I am in awe that often I don't always recognize myself. I have gotten to a place where I an appreciate the smallest of things. I can truly celebrate in the joy of others. And I grieve with those that are hurting. Life is no longer about things. Money. Or power. It is about the way we can say "yes" to each day. I am guilty for getting caught up in routines and the stagnant. I can't even see how that is possible anymore. I have not had two of the same days in months. And though I was worried about what this new chapter would look like, I am thriving. I had my mini pity party when my teacher friends all started school, but I had to shake it off. My teaching career is a chapter of my past life. I lived that chapter. It was a good one. And also one of the hardest. The people still matter, but the career is no longer my calling.

With that being said, in the last week, I have seen the clouds pass and the fog lift. Is it clarity of thought from the REAL food I had been eating from Whole30? Is it the fact that I am getting the door beaten down by opportunity? Is it the Step Study I have finished after 8 long months? Or is it the messages I have been hearing preached in church? I am sure the culmination can all attribute to the tsunami of awesome, but really, and I mean reeeeaaaallly like real talk, it is that the pieces of the past (and the future) are finally making sense.

The journey has been one I compare to a roller coaster, and in the last year or so, I have been climbing, anticipating the gut wrenching drop. My stomach has done the flips. I have screamed (on more than one occasion). Clenched my fists, holding on for dear life. And now, I get to feel the wind in my hair. The laughter in the thrills of this part. I do long to share in this journey with people that are no longer on the ride, but I can't blame them for getting off the ride. It is not for the faint of heart. They have their own trail to blaze for now. And at times, it could've been best described more as a crazy train. Perhaps someday our paths will cross again.

For now, I am in awe of not only the provision in my life, but of incredible faithfulness. It is not good enough that I was allowed one blessing, but a multitude. That, my friends, is the definition of grace. I am now challenged to give that grace to others as it is abundant.

I look forward to sharing the specific details of this journey. I can tell you that I have had a sip of the entrepreneurial Kool-Aid and it is delicious. This life I get to live is shaping up to be better than I could ever hope or imagine. If you can stomach the inconsistencies it may bring, you can also relish in the thrills that come too. I now get to be incredibly creative. I am meeting amazing people. Having once in a lifetime experiences. I get to enjoy my days. I enjoy drinking my wine and I still have a few bad habits, but I am no longer stuck in a gear of neutral. I can confidently hold to the promises of this life. Hope. Love. Forgiveness. Healing. And an amazing future. This chapter is truly called my "Tsunami of Awesome."

Potato Land.

After spending the last week in the land of potatoes, it is a wonder that I did not send for my things and have Dave and Sarah pack Stella into a cardboard box and FedEx her. (Sidenote: Stella was an escape artist in my absence. Twice. Practically gave me a heart attack and caused an assembly of a giant search party. Thankfully, she didn't wander too far.) Had it not been for a wedding in CA, I may have had my mail forwarded to a Potato Land address.

Idaho, though I have now visited a handful of times, somehow quieted my soul this trip. I am sure breaking my Whole30 diet for a minute to have Zips helped a tad, but I think it had more to do with the company I kept. Being with the scrummies was priceless, and of course, seeing my sister and brother-in-law was an added bonus. My dad happened to coordinate his trip, so it was lots of family bonding time, but all in all, I savored the moments in Legos, baking cupcakes, hair braiding, walking hand in hand with RaeRae, jumping on the trampoline (thank God I didn't pee myself), and other such exciting adventures that come from spending time with girls that are 9 and 11. The Harry Potter marathon was fun. The summer storms were nerve rattling. The wake boarding was eventful (and full of colorful words). Paddle boarding was amazing (as was each day on the lake). The people continued to be so kind in the northwest. But ultimately, my trip came down to prized moments. One such moment in which I spent in church. It will be a moment I treasure for eternity.

The moment came on the heels of talking to Louski about life, friendships, and who God has made her to be. This girl is quite serious about her cupcakes and wanting to be a business owner someday. Her brain is always working. And she is now at an age where she is wanting to figure out what she is good at, while also wanting to be accepted by her friend groups. It just so happens to be an age that I cherish. She is the age of my people. Anyhow, we sat next to each other in church this last Sunday where she is now old enough to attend "big church." And at church, it was communion Sunday. As the bread and wine came down our aisle, we took our portions and quietly sang and prayed. And as I watched Caelan praying with all of her might, she spilled a bit of her grape juice. (Not surprising, as my sister did forewarn me that it is a regular occurrence.) But what I loved was that she was so focused on her prayers that she was not at all concerned with the purple drops on her jeans. Her child like faith has been a vision in my head ever since as I am in this place where my own faith continues to grow and be challenged. I am so incredibly thankful that my sister and Eric are raising their girls to be such amazing creatures. Honest. Loving. Creative. Respectful. And God loving. You can learn a lot from spending time with a 9 and an 11 year old.

Spending time in Idaho allowed my spirit to settle and to truly reflect on all that has happened in the last year or so. Even for a moment. Some of it has challenged me beyond belief. Much has surprised me. And some things, I am still sorting. And I am exhausted. But it also showed me that I am in this new chapter of life when I can do and be whatever I want. That I can go where the wind takes me. Or better yet, where God calls.

After a conversation with a friend in Idaho that I know from my way back life, he challenged me to really prayerfully consider this next chapter. And that perhaps, just maybe, I might be packing my stuff to move somewhere unexpected. As I am learning that God has a sense of humor, I am thinking that maybe there is some truth to the words of my friend in this adventure. And maybe one day, Potato Land might just be home. I could stand to snuggle on the couch with my nieces on a weekly basis or spend time paddle boarding with them on the lake. I don't want to miss out. And the great memories I made with Meg and Eric was refreshing. Or perhaps my next address will be in another time zone.

I am still facing a handful of unknowns, but this might all be because the adventure is just about to start. Doors continue to close and friendships continue to evolve in unexpected ways. My faith is continuing to be challenged and perhaps this faith of mine should look more like an 11 year old girl with purple spotted jeans.


P.S. Whole30, you are not fun on vacation. Day 22 is in the books and I still want beer and chocolate, with a side of cheese and frozen yogurt.