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!

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. 

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.

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!

Love is Love.

It is with a heavy heart that I think of the victims and families of Orlando. And as I mentioned in my letter to the Facebook world (whatever that means), I am not sad because many are of the LGBT community, but I mourn because they are human beings. It is sickening that there are people that live in fear for any reason. That is the tragedy.

The feeling of exclusion is real. We have all felt it to one extent or another, whether we were chosen last for the elementary school kickball team, or that time we were new to a school or group and sat alone at lunch time because we didn't yet have any friends. Or maybe it was the one time you stood alone in a classroom debate. Reasons somewhat irrelevant now, but at the time, the hurt and/or solitude was quite real. In recent years, I reflect on my tenure as a teacher in a local Christian school. I distinctly remember feeling excluded because I was not of the same heritage as the majority within the school, nor did I belong to the same church denomination, in addition to dating someone of a different race. I distinctly remember a conversation with an administrator about something as trivial as the color of my nail polish, which was greatly frowned upon because it was "different." In no way did I live in fear for my life for such things, but I know I didn't fit. I felt the exclusion. And that exclusion has definitely defined my views and I begrudgingly say that my sentiments of that experience are not fondly recalled. And of course, my feelings pale in comparison to those that live in fear daily because of race or lifestyle. I can't even begin to fathom what it must be like to be hated or mistreated due to orientation or race. The feeling of fear or intimidation is no way to live as a human. For ANY reason. It is saddening that friends within the LGBT community have suffered such fear and alienation. And for what?

I see some of these same patterns of judgment and divisions within the church. There are those quick to judge because of one's background, past, religious beliefs, lifestyle, etc. I see friends that have to live in secret for fear of losing their jobs, which is disheartening. Fellow Christians that are dismissed for their beliefs or pains ignored because they live "differently" than the next person in the pew. And as I am no expert, nor do I stand on a soapbox claiming to be perfect, I do know enough of my Bible to know that Jesus loved all people. He loved lepers, prostitutes, fishermen, tax collectors, priests, everyone. Jesus was all about love. Jesus was love. Jesus is love. His very action on the cross was love. And beyond His calling for us to love our neighbors (which is everyone), He also calls us to mourn with those that mourn. This is a precious time we can all stand united in our mourning with the people of Orlando. With people that are hurting all over this world. For whatever reason. It is our opportunity to be the very hands and feet of love to each other in every situation.

I wonder when as a society, as a world, we will stop fighting over bathrooms, or what box is checked on forms, and what we wear, look like, or prefer. Rather, I pray our children will learn more than to "tolerate" others, but to love people for the fact that they are human. It would be a dream to honor ALL cultures, beliefs, and communities that have a foundation rooted in love rather than hate. That somehow we could love as God does.

Please understand that this philosophy does not indicate that every child deserves a trophy. (That ideology is going to lead to some real issues for society.) It simply means that we do not need to come from a place of hate. That people are awarded jobs because they are qualified not because they meet a particular quota. Or that they are not excluded because they are "different." It means that when people want to join together for a common cause, that there is not a deeply rooted sense of fear of violence, retaliation, or hate. This idea is based on the fact that we are all created uniquely, with our common thread as human beings created in the image of God. We are in no means perfect and one group or race is not superior to another. We are created equally. And rather than burn books, crosses, buildings, or flags, or dodge bullets in a concert halls or nightclubs, or suffer from any other senseless acts of crime and violence, my prayer is that the pitchforks get put away. For good.

Hug your fellow humans. Love on people. Share a meal. Make the needed phone calls. Bury the differences. Embrace the commonalities. For whatever it is worth, I see you. I hear you. I love you.

Love is love. It is as simple and as complicated as that.

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.

Rest Required.

So I am now in the cancer recovery zone from my surgery and barrage of doctor appointments. With an unexpected turn of being put on disability, I have been forced to rest from Dr. K for a few weeks. With skyrocketing blood pressure and the reopening of two incisions, I am now taking in the doctor's orders and find myself now at home most days, watching Netflix and writing, but also pouring my energies into resurrecting my need to create, draw, and paint. Alas, the birth of Paper Velveteen.

On a few attempts, I have tried to pursue my dreams to be an illustrator and children's author, but it always seemed as though life got in the way. Though that dream has evolved some, I am allowing my brush to do work once again. My new space has also been inspiring to do so along with the undivided time to devote. My work desk sits under two windows which gives so much natural light. As well, I find myself having dreams of new ideas, which is welcomed after weeks of restless sleep due to incisions, stress, and other such worries. (Still feels strange though not being in the office each day.)


It feels good to be back in my creative element. To listen to the still, small voice telling me that I can do this. That I can create something from nothing. That dreams come true with some ingenuity and hard work. And they aren't to be ignored.

So with that being said, I am in need of prayer as there are still some changes that need to be made. Some healing that is still underway. And a small dream starting to ignite into something quite undefined at this point.

Looking forward to this next chapter once again. After all, isn't this to be the year of adventure?!

p.s. If you are not yet following, give @papervelveteen some love. And please, tell your friends! There is more to come!

{The epic logo of Paper Velveteen was designed by the one and only @hat_daddy. Thanks, homie.}

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.

2016: The Year of Adventure.

I had no idea when the year started with a pending motto, that my declaration for 2016 to be The Year of Adventure that it would mean that my adventure would begin with some major unexpected news.

Almost to the date of my January 30, ovarian cancer-versary (the diagnosis date of my Stage III ovarian cancer), that I would once again be marking a new cancer-versary date on my calendar: January 6, 2016--Melanoma. I don't know if I am even ready to claim it, but I am now battling skin cancer. This is going to be a roller coaster of new emotions and battles. A bit of background to all of this...I had not been feeling well and I had taken a bit of a sabbatical from doctor visits as it gets tiring being their pin cushion. I got my new insurance underway and made the trek to my childhood doctor, Dr. Longnecker. He is good. He knows my family, my health history, and I trust him. Little did I know that the visit would uncover many looming medical conditions.

"Your life is an occasion. Rise to it."

I am not yet ready to go in to detail of all of it, but the main concerns focus around the confirmed melanoma diagnosis and pending tests for breast cancer. If I am a cat with nine lives, I am looking at borrowing a few as I am running out.

Where this all stands...I have an emergency appointment with a melanoma specialist on Tuesday, January 12. Surgery is most likely to happen then to see if we can clear the margins. I am going to have my entourage with me to help me hear the important details at the appointment.

What I have learned in this thus far...I have the most amazing support system in place. Jack is my superhero. I am forever grateful that God has blessed me with the very best man to be my partner in all of this. Family has rallied around in love. I have friends that are my prayer warriors, cheerleaders, partners, and advocates. I work with incredible people that are holding me up in love, prayer, support, and positive energy.

It is no question that once again, God has my attention. That just when I felt like I was on the mountain top, I find myself in a new valley. I have to believe that this will be another miraculous victory. And I also have to believe that it is just another chapter in my story. It won't end here. I am coming back with a vengeance and ready to chase new dreams after we tackle this big bump in the road. Though it may not be the adventure we had planned, we are taking it on to be the best adventure yet.

Prayers welcome. Medical updates to come...

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.

Dating Lessons.

In my recent experiences with dating, there are a few nuggets of advice perhaps worth sharing. 

1. I'm not all that patient. Not in the "Rush down the aisle" way, but in the "Is he gonna text back? It's been a whole 29 seconds."

2. My type is somewhere in between a motorcycle riding, tattooed, bearded guy that hopefully doesn't live with his mom and has a job he loves or at least feels success. Who are we kidding?! Beard optional. Scruff accepted. Tattoos not necessary. But I do like the adrenaline junkie that builds cool stuff. 

3. When in doubt on a date, wine is the answer.

4. I don't see the logic in the theory of going on a date for a "free" dinner. Nothing in life is free and I don't like obligation. 

5. I make more faces on a date than the emoji keyboard. 

6. I am highly attracted to a man with many layers. #onion

7. Honesty is hard to come by. 

8. I'm a "worst case scenario" dater meaning I usually assume I am on a date with Dexter and you can find me in the belly of a shark by the end of the evening.

9. I've met some interesting characters. One claimed to be crazier than Christian Grey (yikes!). Another forgot to disclose he had 4 children. Or how about the one that failed to mention he was married?! 

10. But then there are some genuinely good people. And when you find them, they carry their weight in gold. 

It is just nice to know that there are good humans out there that are honest and kind with a good sense of humor.

What's My Address Again?

The new place is still under construction.

So as I know things have changed so fast for me this year that before I finish typing this sentence I will probably have another new address. Oh wait...that's right...I am moving. Yet again. In 6 weeks. It'll be Move Number 7 or 8 in the last 12 months. Oy vei. This move I will actually order address labels for and make sure my driver's license matches only so that it seems like I am settled this time for more than a minute. On that note, I have also decided to go back to the roommate life as I was given an offer too good to refuse. I think that it will be a healthy situation and perhaps will provide an for an interesting story someday. It will be nice to have someone there too. I am (we are) upgrading to a very nice new top-floor apartment in a beautiful area that will allow me to spend a lot of time outdoors in Peter's Canyon (as well as other local parks and beaches) so I can run again in good areas and my homegirl, Stella, will get to enjoy life in the dog park at our home. I am looking forward to the change (and to finally unpack--though cardboard brown is so the new black).

Trailer chic.

And though I have moved from La Habra to Cerritos to San Diego to Whittier to La Habra to stints in San Francisco to a vacation in Idaho to Santa Ana to Tustin, I have at least settled in to THE most amazing job. I hate to even call it a job as I don't feel like it is even work. I literally get to be in an environment surrounded by all things Ellen. Creative. Retail. Design. Food. Drink. People. And lots of movement and action. It is really everything in my wheel house. I had no idea such a thing existed. And though I miss the coaching and kids (and some people) of my past life, I could not love this job any more than I do. I work for a creative duo that are at the top of the game. And best part, I have a boss that is a creative genius, respectful, thoughtful, and funny. I had no idea how much my soul and spirit had been damaged in recent years by some in authority of my past professional career. But that has all seemed like ancient history as I work for people that encourage and build. Not a day goes by that I am not laughing and leaving the day feeling valued. It is a dream. Because in turn, I work that much harder and get to thrive in this place. What a novel concept.

People are asking me all the time what it is that I do. And to be honest, I am not sure how to put it in words. I manage an office of creatives. I facilitate the personal and professional schedules of my boss. I buy for the retail spaces. I get to shop and source furniture and accessories for our new ventures. I plan fun events. I get to be creative. I am part of many projects. I work with all kinds of people from city officials, to creatives, to restauranteurs and some major players in the development world. It is kind of crazy. Even more awesome is that I get to have a pulse on trends and pushing the design envelope as I learn from those I work with each day. I get to try all kinds of food and drink from the restaurants. I have met great people that are quickly becoming great friends. I wear whatever I want to work. My hair can be whatever color. And I get to be me. No judging. It is freeing. The bonus (besides these amazing people): we have a trailer and a shipping container in our office. Bet you can't say that about your work space!

Bunny.

Beyond life at The LAB, I have spent a good deal of time making these fly-by-night trips to San Fran. Thankfully my Pops and Katty Kat are there, but I also get to see my "Bestest." (That means he is better than a bestie.) We have been spending these moments together that feel like a blip on the radar, but honestly, we pack every minute. We are still this powerhouse known as Studio Black Sheep making events happen and gettin' it done.  It is amazing how someone can fill your life with so much love and laughter and joy and confidence all at once. And you can spend countless minutes together singing Katy Perry at the of your lungs and purring at each other without being annoyed. It is the best. And to be truthful, it is Jory that I can almost singlehandedly say has been a force in getting me back on my game. He is an amazing human. The kind that plants the deepest and most honest friendship one can ever ask for.

There is a handful of folk that I can say that about these days. They are the ones that know me best and have never left my side. I get to spend holidays with those families. Celebrate birthdays. Go shopping for creatures needed for a 5 year old birthday party or to even just clean out the garage (for days in a row). Or just show up at their house for Sundays together to do whatever the day may call for. It is the kind of stuff that takes my breath away when I feel the sadness for the yesteryears. I have these people that fill the empty spaces. They are more than friends. The "friend" word doesn't do justice. They've become family. And though they definitely don't replace the significant people of the past, they help to bring in new memories and help me to build again. Just this time as a better version of myself.

In a nutshell, I am back. I am alive. I am me again. It has been a decade or so, but watch out. The sleeping lions are wide awake. It was my 2014 resolution to THRIVE. And though this has taken on a completely different look than what I had imagined back on January 1, this is shaping up to be a chapter I couldn't have written better myself. And that, my friends, is how we know that we are NOT the authors of our own story. We simply play a role in a grander picture. Thank God for that.

And so, the ampersand chapter continues...&

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."