August 17, 2009
In the past, I've mentioned here that my thoughts on the pro-life, pro-choice debates were not black and white. While I would never, ever consider having an abortion, years of seeing child abuse made me reluctant to say that someone who doesn't want to (or shouldn't) have a child, should be forced to have one. And while I adore the idea of adoption and hope to do it someday, many cultures have big reservations about giving up one of their own so it's not an automatic default for families unprepared for a child. The other large reason for abortions is knowledge of birth defect or illness. Some children are born into a life of unimaginable pain and sickness. Should we require them to be born to the painful life they lead? Regardless, unsure of where my stance is, I have taken stances (soapboxes) on a multitude of other things (living wage, poverty, healthcare) and have left abortion to the politicians and religious leaders. Slowly though, over the past few years, God has really taught me more and more and I've felt myself being convicted about this issue. I know that, in regards to child abuse, I have to look no farther than my own mother to see that a child of heinous, horrific backgrounds, can grow up to make an enormous difference in the world. I wouldn't be here, nor would my brother and sister had my mom not been born. It sounds simplistic, but I cannot fathom this planet without Patrick and Katie on it. In my mind, it would be a vastly different place minus those two people and I truly do not think the few billion more people on earth could take their very specific, unique and wonderful place. And in regards to a child who will be born with such great pain, I learned some things last week, when I found myself in Athens at a memorial service for a precious 3-year-old little girl.
Little A. is the daughter of a former co-worker. I remember when her mom was pregnant with her and her family was told of her heart defect. Their daughter's future was certain of only one thing, that if she were born, the roads would all be uphill and the challenges would be many. I know this family, and I know of their deep, deep faith. I do not know what options they considered, but Little A joined her 2 big sisters in the big, wide world. 12 weeks after her birth, she had a heart transplant. And for the last 3 years, she has struggled and fought. Her dad said she averaged one medical procedure week. From lab work to shunts to IV antibiotics to fight off the newest infection, to surgeries and painful procedures, she endured like a champ.
Some in the world might suggest that little A not have had to endure so much, that bringing her into the world secured her place in the boxing ring, constantly being pummeled by her disease. I have seen families through DFCS and this hospital now be tortured by illness of their child. I have watched their children be tortured. And I am not insensitive to the many ethical questions that are raised by this. But, I will tell you this. The memorial service for 3-year-old little A, clarified something for me.
She absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, should have been born. There were hundreds and hundreds of people at that service. We were all sobbing as we watched the slide show show this little girls life, all the ups and downs. I sobbed big, ugly, breathless sobs for the little girl I had the priviledge to hold during one of her many Atlanta hospital stays as her mama snuck in a bite to eat. I sobbed for the precious baby I felt against my chest and thanked God for the chance to have done that. I sobbed for her sisters, now just 2 on this earth, missing their 3rd musketeer. I sobbed for the 300+ people who are missing that little girl.
But then I stopped sobbing. And I recognized what happened with her parents' decision to give her life. By my own calculations, some in that huge group came to know and believe in a loving God because of A. Some hugged their kids tighter each night, knowing that life is fragile. Maybe one or two chose to adopt and give a special needs child a home, seeing the joy that little A could bring to a room. Maybe another one grieved over their own choice to terminate a pregnancy and vowed to respect all life. Maybe one, ambivalant social worker, realized that at least 300 lives were made better, more whole, more faithful, more devout, more caring, more loving, more commited, more joyous, more complete by that little girl, NONE of which would have happpened had her parents made the painful choice to prevent her pain and suffering with a termination of the pregnancy. Maybe one, wishy washy social worker realized that GOD is in control of life and just as He walked her mama through hell for a specific purpose, so did He walk little A though many trials for a very, very important purpose. And because He is SO flipping GOOD, I know that little A laughed with her sisters and experienced such love and joy in her family. Her life was GOOD. And my mom, despite all those early traumas, has had love and joy in her life. Her life IS GOOD.
So, thank you, little A. Because of your life, and your parents' selfless decision to give you life, I now wholeheartedly, without question or reservation, CHOOSE LIFE.
Peace~
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
"The most terrible poverty is loneliness..." Mother Teresa
August 6, 2009
http://www.cnn.com/2009/CRIME/08/05/gym.shooting.diary/index.html?iref=mpstoryview.
In the news lately has been this story of a man who walked into a gym, turned out the lights and opened fire, killing 3 women and then himself. This news story struck me for a number of reasons. First, I am a member of this chain of gyms, often frequenting the aerobics room. A place that for me signifies health and hard work became a place of terror for many women in Pittsburgh. R is in Pittsburgh right now and has seen and heard the countless stories. Lives were shattered. Lives were lost. I got to thinking about one particular life that was lost, the shooter. He writes of his loneliness in his blogs, of going home alone, being alone, not sharing life with anyone. And while this man very likely had some serious Axis II diagnoses and committed a heinous crime, I wonder how many times he was visibly lonely in his life. And then I wonder how many times someone reached out to him. Maybe many, maybe few. Regardless, so much damage comes from a lonely heart. So much so that Mother Teresa spoke frequently of the 'leprosy of loneliness."
"We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty."
"There is a terrible hunger for love. We all experience that in our lives--the pain, the loneliness. We must have the courage to recognize it. The poor you may have right in your own family. Find them. Love them."
"In the West there is loneliness, which I call the leprosy of the West. In many ways it is worse than our poor in Calcutta."
"It is easy to love the people far away. It is not always easy to love those close to us. It is easier to give a cup of rice to relieve hunger than to relieve the loneliness and pain of someone unloved in our own home. Bring love into your home for this is where our love for each other must start.”
I can think of so many examples in my own daily life of people who need and deserve someone to NOTICE them, to ACKNOWLEDGE their existence, their significance in the world. Be it the co-worker with Asberger's who talks incessantly but wants someone to HEAR her or the housekeeping lady who said that no one calls her by name at work ( I will from now on, p.s.), or the patient that will finish his days in a nursing home with the only human contact coming from the person with the blood pressure cuff. I think of my own times of loneliness, of sitting at a lunch table in high school and being ignored or of being on the receiving end of middle school mean girl fights (admittedly had some not proud moments of being on the giving end of that too). And I think of what Mother Teresa says about our HOMES and the loneliness that can lie within those too. I do not doubt that despite sharing my life with R, without commitment and work, we can easily become lonely in our own homes. I think of my grandmother and how I need to call her often as more and more of her friends are dying. I think of my mom, in her recently emptied nest, and those nights where she misses hollering at one of us.
Bottom line is that Mother Teresa had it right. Loneliness is the greatest poverty. In graduate school and practicums, we learned that one of the biggest risk factors for child abuse is isolation, families with no one around them. We see countless examples of bombers living alone in the woods and lonely college students opening fire on campuses. There are terrible, terrible consequences for people who suffer greatly with being lonely. With my heart open today, maybe God will show me who needs some company, who needs some acknowlegement of their great significance on this earth. I look forward to what He will show me.
Peace~
http://www.cnn.com/2009/CRIME/08/05/gym.shooting.diary/index.html?iref=mpstoryview.
In the news lately has been this story of a man who walked into a gym, turned out the lights and opened fire, killing 3 women and then himself. This news story struck me for a number of reasons. First, I am a member of this chain of gyms, often frequenting the aerobics room. A place that for me signifies health and hard work became a place of terror for many women in Pittsburgh. R is in Pittsburgh right now and has seen and heard the countless stories. Lives were shattered. Lives were lost. I got to thinking about one particular life that was lost, the shooter. He writes of his loneliness in his blogs, of going home alone, being alone, not sharing life with anyone. And while this man very likely had some serious Axis II diagnoses and committed a heinous crime, I wonder how many times he was visibly lonely in his life. And then I wonder how many times someone reached out to him. Maybe many, maybe few. Regardless, so much damage comes from a lonely heart. So much so that Mother Teresa spoke frequently of the 'leprosy of loneliness."
"We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty."
"There is a terrible hunger for love. We all experience that in our lives--the pain, the loneliness. We must have the courage to recognize it. The poor you may have right in your own family. Find them. Love them."
"In the West there is loneliness, which I call the leprosy of the West. In many ways it is worse than our poor in Calcutta."
"It is easy to love the people far away. It is not always easy to love those close to us. It is easier to give a cup of rice to relieve hunger than to relieve the loneliness and pain of someone unloved in our own home. Bring love into your home for this is where our love for each other must start.”
I can think of so many examples in my own daily life of people who need and deserve someone to NOTICE them, to ACKNOWLEDGE their existence, their significance in the world. Be it the co-worker with Asberger's who talks incessantly but wants someone to HEAR her or the housekeeping lady who said that no one calls her by name at work ( I will from now on, p.s.), or the patient that will finish his days in a nursing home with the only human contact coming from the person with the blood pressure cuff. I think of my own times of loneliness, of sitting at a lunch table in high school and being ignored or of being on the receiving end of middle school mean girl fights (admittedly had some not proud moments of being on the giving end of that too). And I think of what Mother Teresa says about our HOMES and the loneliness that can lie within those too. I do not doubt that despite sharing my life with R, without commitment and work, we can easily become lonely in our own homes. I think of my grandmother and how I need to call her often as more and more of her friends are dying. I think of my mom, in her recently emptied nest, and those nights where she misses hollering at one of us.
Bottom line is that Mother Teresa had it right. Loneliness is the greatest poverty. In graduate school and practicums, we learned that one of the biggest risk factors for child abuse is isolation, families with no one around them. We see countless examples of bombers living alone in the woods and lonely college students opening fire on campuses. There are terrible, terrible consequences for people who suffer greatly with being lonely. With my heart open today, maybe God will show me who needs some company, who needs some acknowlegement of their great significance on this earth. I look forward to what He will show me.
Peace~
Choose JOY
August 4, 2009
In college, like so many others, I struggled to figure out who I was and to be okay with that person. Dealing with depression, I now understand that debilitating inability to put one foot in front of the other. It was so difficult. I remember one day, driving down College Station road in Athens. I was on the phone with my dear friend Chrissie. I told her how I felt like just getting in the car today was an accomplishment. With not a tinge of downplaying that rough time in my life, she told me that some days you have to actively, purposely, intentionally, sometimes counter-intuitively, CHOOSE JOY. I remember the exact stop light I was at (near the coliseum if you must know) and remember thinking, this is some of the best advice I will hear in my life.
Last night I had dinner with the author of such sound advice and it makes me smile how easy joy came in her company. We all have our terrible, not so good, very bad days. Chrissie is no exception. And yet she CHOOSES joy. She CHOOSES to put her faith in her beloved God. She CHOOSES to seek out adventure and to let the day bring what it may. She CHOOSES not to succumb to those not so good days. And I for one, am so glad she CHOSE me as her friend. Because I have learned volumes from this gal.
This morning I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. literally. (I woke up sleeping across the bed, showing how restless I was last night). I heard the trash man coming and raced outside to get the very full trash can to the curb. Very nice trash man just smiled at bed-head, robe wearing Keri, probably thanking the Lord that I took the millisecond to put on the robe. Anyway, I was groggy and got back in bed. And then Monty jumped ONTO me in the bed. (R is out of town for most of the month so I am playing single dog mom, ugh.) P.S. Monty is NEVER allowed on the bed and jumping ON me was totally out of character. So, now I'm gross with doggy licks and say 'forget it, go get your leash'. And on this too early morning walk with the puppy, in Ross's oversized long-sleeved t-shirt and 3 size too big pants, I started singing. Song of the day was an old BSS classic "In you Lord I have found my peace...in you LORD I have joy..." And the word JOY hit me. Flash backs to the wonderful mexican dinner with one of my sweetest friends hit me. JOY hit me. Okay, Jesus, let me attempt to start this day that I am dreading with joy. Let me CHOOSE JOY today.
I had to get no farther than I-75 to practice my pledge for the day when the road was at a standstill. Three rosaries later, still sitting. Clock-in time has come and gone. But I am breathing deeply. I see the culprit. None other than a dark blue honda accord, stalled in the middle lane. I drive by her, blonde gal, 20 something. I smiled upward to the heavens. That girl could have so easily been me. And while I was late for work, I am not signing over my paycheck to a mechanic, nor am I having to ride with a sketchy tow-truck person. There is reason for JOY today.
And while I don't toootally feel like seeing patients and doing the social work thing, I will CHOOSE the joy in having a job, especially one that affords me the flexibility of blogging before I see said patients.
And while our rehearsal dinner fell completely apart last night, I will CHOOSE the joy in having a mother that marched directly down there and spent hours sorting it out (something tells me the chick that messed up is having a hard time choosing joy after listening to Mary for an hour). I will CHOOSE the joy in the fact that our families are providing us with this wedding and rehearsal dinner and that we're not having to mortgage our own underwear to pay for it.
And while I only had enough change for a diet coke instead of a diet coke and oats n' honey bar, (clearly choosing the diet coke), I will CHOOSE the joy in knowing that my hunger only lasts until noon.
And while Ross's kitchen looks like a war zone after our parties this weekend, I have NO problem choosing the JOY that comes from thinking about the amazing weekend we had, celebrating with our friends and family, who so selflessly gave us gifts with which to start our lives.
CHOOSING JOY, one intentional decision at a time.
In college, like so many others, I struggled to figure out who I was and to be okay with that person. Dealing with depression, I now understand that debilitating inability to put one foot in front of the other. It was so difficult. I remember one day, driving down College Station road in Athens. I was on the phone with my dear friend Chrissie. I told her how I felt like just getting in the car today was an accomplishment. With not a tinge of downplaying that rough time in my life, she told me that some days you have to actively, purposely, intentionally, sometimes counter-intuitively, CHOOSE JOY. I remember the exact stop light I was at (near the coliseum if you must know) and remember thinking, this is some of the best advice I will hear in my life.
Last night I had dinner with the author of such sound advice and it makes me smile how easy joy came in her company. We all have our terrible, not so good, very bad days. Chrissie is no exception. And yet she CHOOSES joy. She CHOOSES to put her faith in her beloved God. She CHOOSES to seek out adventure and to let the day bring what it may. She CHOOSES not to succumb to those not so good days. And I for one, am so glad she CHOSE me as her friend. Because I have learned volumes from this gal.
This morning I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. literally. (I woke up sleeping across the bed, showing how restless I was last night). I heard the trash man coming and raced outside to get the very full trash can to the curb. Very nice trash man just smiled at bed-head, robe wearing Keri, probably thanking the Lord that I took the millisecond to put on the robe. Anyway, I was groggy and got back in bed. And then Monty jumped ONTO me in the bed. (R is out of town for most of the month so I am playing single dog mom, ugh.) P.S. Monty is NEVER allowed on the bed and jumping ON me was totally out of character. So, now I'm gross with doggy licks and say 'forget it, go get your leash'. And on this too early morning walk with the puppy, in Ross's oversized long-sleeved t-shirt and 3 size too big pants, I started singing. Song of the day was an old BSS classic "In you Lord I have found my peace...in you LORD I have joy..." And the word JOY hit me. Flash backs to the wonderful mexican dinner with one of my sweetest friends hit me. JOY hit me. Okay, Jesus, let me attempt to start this day that I am dreading with joy. Let me CHOOSE JOY today.
I had to get no farther than I-75 to practice my pledge for the day when the road was at a standstill. Three rosaries later, still sitting. Clock-in time has come and gone. But I am breathing deeply. I see the culprit. None other than a dark blue honda accord, stalled in the middle lane. I drive by her, blonde gal, 20 something. I smiled upward to the heavens. That girl could have so easily been me. And while I was late for work, I am not signing over my paycheck to a mechanic, nor am I having to ride with a sketchy tow-truck person. There is reason for JOY today.
And while I don't toootally feel like seeing patients and doing the social work thing, I will CHOOSE the joy in having a job, especially one that affords me the flexibility of blogging before I see said patients.
And while our rehearsal dinner fell completely apart last night, I will CHOOSE the joy in having a mother that marched directly down there and spent hours sorting it out (something tells me the chick that messed up is having a hard time choosing joy after listening to Mary for an hour). I will CHOOSE the joy in the fact that our families are providing us with this wedding and rehearsal dinner and that we're not having to mortgage our own underwear to pay for it.
And while I only had enough change for a diet coke instead of a diet coke and oats n' honey bar, (clearly choosing the diet coke), I will CHOOSE the joy in knowing that my hunger only lasts until noon.
And while Ross's kitchen looks like a war zone after our parties this weekend, I have NO problem choosing the JOY that comes from thinking about the amazing weekend we had, celebrating with our friends and family, who so selflessly gave us gifts with which to start our lives.
CHOOSING JOY, one intentional decision at a time.
with Weschler and Chrissie (right), author of 'choose joy!'
Shhh...quiet zone
July 31, 2009
This week has been NUTS. No more crazy than most people's, I'm sure, but it's been crazy. While our personal lives have been busier than ever, both mine and R's jobs are kicking our butts. Add to that equation an inability to sleep for many consecutive nights and you have one crazy, tired social worker and her exhausted, over-worked fiance.
After literally begging God to quiet my mind the last few nights, I have increasingly gotten more sleep. (Or as R says, I've just been so tired my body had no choice in the matter). I don't care the reason. All I know is that thoughts, anxieties, ideas, to-do lists have run through my head all day and night for weeks. And the days have been filled with putting out fire after fire after fire and still having to ensure my patients have what they need before they go out into the world and live with AIDS. Their needs are constant. And to some degree, I am paid to meet their needs. Someone gave me a cartoon once that said "Aren't you just the cutest little black hole of need?" Good Gracious, no truer words were said. My sweet (and some not so sweet) patients nneeeed so much. And then there's my precious fiance who needs a supportive, comforting partner. And then there's the puppy who neeeds to be walked or loved on. And then there's me. Who just neeeeeds some cotton pickin quiet, in my sleep, in my work, anywhere I can find it. My fabulous shrink/friend Audrey wrote this yesterday on my facebook page "Pay attention to your own life, your own health and wholeness. A bleeding heart is of no help anyone if it bleeds to death". Well, I don't know if my heart was bleeding, but I was about over tending to anyone's needs. I needed to go back to where I find wholeness and where MY needs are met. I didn't have to look far.
"My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress. I will never be shaken. Psalm 62:1-2. I will not be shaken by the overwhelming needs of the sick, the poor, and the dying. I will not be shaken by the needs of my home and family and new life. I will not be shaken by my very natural inability to meet all of these needs. I thought this last night. I prayed it. And then, peacefully, quietly, without interruption, I slept. Blissful, quiet, restful, rejuvenating, re-energizing, sleep.
I woke up today and after a shower sat out back in a plush robe, just me and God. And, drum roll please, my heart was quiet. My fears were quiet. My anxieties were on mute. It was just me and my good friend Jesus. Enjoying the quiet of the backyard, wet hair, warm heart. And because I myself am the little black hole of need sometimes, God took it one step farther. As of 2:12 pm Friday, Grady is quiet. My patients are quiet and praise sweet God, my pager is very quiet. (I realize I could be jinxing myself for the next three hours but am hopeful). This morning I have taken many deep breaths, smiled more and relished this quiet that this very loud, very passionate social worker MUST have. I need the quiet so that I can hear the voice of God telling me that I do, indeed, have the energy for another patient. I can be supportive of my family and fiance's needs. I can keep truding along in this very loud, busy world.
Tonight, after I put two precious little girls to bed, I will hopefully continue this time of quiet. I will curl up on a sofa, turn down the lights, and delve into March , my wonderful new book based on father, Mr. March, in the beloved story, Little Women. And after this blessed time of quiet, I will be ready for the fun, loud, but wonderful weekend that awaits us.
Peace~
This week has been NUTS. No more crazy than most people's, I'm sure, but it's been crazy. While our personal lives have been busier than ever, both mine and R's jobs are kicking our butts. Add to that equation an inability to sleep for many consecutive nights and you have one crazy, tired social worker and her exhausted, over-worked fiance.
After literally begging God to quiet my mind the last few nights, I have increasingly gotten more sleep. (Or as R says, I've just been so tired my body had no choice in the matter). I don't care the reason. All I know is that thoughts, anxieties, ideas, to-do lists have run through my head all day and night for weeks. And the days have been filled with putting out fire after fire after fire and still having to ensure my patients have what they need before they go out into the world and live with AIDS. Their needs are constant. And to some degree, I am paid to meet their needs. Someone gave me a cartoon once that said "Aren't you just the cutest little black hole of need?" Good Gracious, no truer words were said. My sweet (and some not so sweet) patients nneeeed so much. And then there's my precious fiance who needs a supportive, comforting partner. And then there's the puppy who neeeds to be walked or loved on. And then there's me. Who just neeeeeds some cotton pickin quiet, in my sleep, in my work, anywhere I can find it. My fabulous shrink/friend Audrey wrote this yesterday on my facebook page "Pay attention to your own life, your own health and wholeness. A bleeding heart is of no help anyone if it bleeds to death". Well, I don't know if my heart was bleeding, but I was about over tending to anyone's needs. I needed to go back to where I find wholeness and where MY needs are met. I didn't have to look far.
"My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress. I will never be shaken. Psalm 62:1-2. I will not be shaken by the overwhelming needs of the sick, the poor, and the dying. I will not be shaken by the needs of my home and family and new life. I will not be shaken by my very natural inability to meet all of these needs. I thought this last night. I prayed it. And then, peacefully, quietly, without interruption, I slept. Blissful, quiet, restful, rejuvenating, re-energizing, sleep.
I woke up today and after a shower sat out back in a plush robe, just me and God. And, drum roll please, my heart was quiet. My fears were quiet. My anxieties were on mute. It was just me and my good friend Jesus. Enjoying the quiet of the backyard, wet hair, warm heart. And because I myself am the little black hole of need sometimes, God took it one step farther. As of 2:12 pm Friday, Grady is quiet. My patients are quiet and praise sweet God, my pager is very quiet. (I realize I could be jinxing myself for the next three hours but am hopeful). This morning I have taken many deep breaths, smiled more and relished this quiet that this very loud, very passionate social worker MUST have. I need the quiet so that I can hear the voice of God telling me that I do, indeed, have the energy for another patient. I can be supportive of my family and fiance's needs. I can keep truding along in this very loud, busy world.
Tonight, after I put two precious little girls to bed, I will hopefully continue this time of quiet. I will curl up on a sofa, turn down the lights, and delve into March , my wonderful new book based on father, Mr. March, in the beloved story, Little Women. And after this blessed time of quiet, I will be ready for the fun, loud, but wonderful weekend that awaits us.
Peace~
Roller Coaster
July 29, 2009
I feel like I have lived a year in the last week. It has been a roller-coaster of ups and downs as we go full speed ahead into wedding-dom. I wouldn't change the memories we are making but Lord knows the word "elope" enters my mind regularly. And dad, YES. I KNOW you will give us money to go across the river and use the rest on a house. I KNOW. So far, I'm sticking with the wedding. But I reserve the right to change my mind.
So, the good:
This weekend I loaded up a ridiculous amount of clothes (yet still forgetting shoes and a slip) and my seven-year-old cousin and headed to Savannah. We went straight to the haven for brides that is the Gingerbread House. My grandma, my mom and my life-saving grace known to you as Katie Sullivan, came in for my first dress fitting. I tried it on and it fit like a glove. I can now save the $300 they would have charged me for alterations. Or I can continue to pour it into the price gouging wedding industry. That's probably more realistic. The time there was perfect though. The world's best maid of honor topped it off by sneaking champagne into the fitting. I'm sure they made bets on whether or not I'd spill it on my brand new, hand made gown but somebody lost cash. I sipped and smiled. And the owner did too when we left her the bottom half of the bottle!
I ended Saturday with one of my most favorite things to do in the world, go to Mass with my grandma. (I especially like the cushioned seats the old(er) folks get to sit on). I talked with the newest priest at Blessed Sacrament and hugged on some of the teenagers I babysat years ago. I let the sweet old ladies that sit next to grandma see my engagement ring and laughed as they asked me ‘why would you want to go and get married?!’ 5:30 Mass at Blessed Sacrament will always be so special to me.
Sunday was my first wedding shower. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I do not enjoy knowing I will be the center of attention. I was a little nervous but it helped that it was held in a home where I spent countless nights as a teenager and was held by a friend that sees me at 6 am some mornings and still thinks I'm cool. My grandma, aunt, cousins and friends from the days at Blessed Sacrament came together and made me feel wonderful. As if getting to marry Ross isn't enough, I get to sit with friends, act girly and open presents too. SCORE!
Now, on to the not so good.
I am writing this a few days after the drama but suffice it to say, we’ve had a few glitches in the wedding planning process. Looking back to last week, they weren’t that big, but at the time, whoa! I. melted. Down. For anyone who received an invitation, we are indeed hosting a reception. And for out of town guests, you will shortly be receiving a new card with lots more details on it. P.S. wedding planners are not over-rated. They are over-paid, but not over-rated. I have neither the funds nor the willingness to pay their outlandish prices, but don’t think I haven’t thought about it. I am finding that I need to take a page out of my sister and sister-in-law’s books. I need to toughen this sensitive skin of mine and care just a teensy bit less what people think of me. This insatiable desire to please people has served me well in life in many areas but is kicking my butt right now. Note to self: you will NOT please everyone who comes to your wedding. People will have opinions and judgments, just as you have had at countless weddings. Note to self number 2: NEVER EVER judge another person’s wedding again.
So, as we approach this last weekend of showers so generously given by family and friends, I have spent some rich time reflecting and praying. My good friend Father Tim has for years been touting the benefits of at least 10 minutes of focused prayer each day. Turns out, he’s got a point. My time in prayer this week has calmed my anxieties and brought comfort to my heart. More than anything in the world, I want my little brother to be at my wedding. He won’t be. God is daily bringing me peace about this. I want our guests to see the fruits of mom and Katie’s hard work and to have a good time at our wedding. God is showing me that we will have wonderful wedding, glitches or not. I want to keep my focus on the holiness of the sacrament and the God who brought us together, not on Emily Post or Amy Vanderbilt. These 10 minutes a day are helping me immensely here.
So, we are 59 days from the wedding. And as excited as I am for it to be here, I’m a teeny tiny bit more excited for 60 days from now. For the day I am Ross’s wife and we can truly begin our lives together. Now I just need to take a deep breath and ride the roller coaster for two more, hopefully short, months!
I feel like I have lived a year in the last week. It has been a roller-coaster of ups and downs as we go full speed ahead into wedding-dom. I wouldn't change the memories we are making but Lord knows the word "elope" enters my mind regularly. And dad, YES. I KNOW you will give us money to go across the river and use the rest on a house. I KNOW. So far, I'm sticking with the wedding. But I reserve the right to change my mind.
So, the good:
This weekend I loaded up a ridiculous amount of clothes (yet still forgetting shoes and a slip) and my seven-year-old cousin and headed to Savannah. We went straight to the haven for brides that is the Gingerbread House. My grandma, my mom and my life-saving grace known to you as Katie Sullivan, came in for my first dress fitting. I tried it on and it fit like a glove. I can now save the $300 they would have charged me for alterations. Or I can continue to pour it into the price gouging wedding industry. That's probably more realistic. The time there was perfect though. The world's best maid of honor topped it off by sneaking champagne into the fitting. I'm sure they made bets on whether or not I'd spill it on my brand new, hand made gown but somebody lost cash. I sipped and smiled. And the owner did too when we left her the bottom half of the bottle!
I ended Saturday with one of my most favorite things to do in the world, go to Mass with my grandma. (I especially like the cushioned seats the old(er) folks get to sit on). I talked with the newest priest at Blessed Sacrament and hugged on some of the teenagers I babysat years ago. I let the sweet old ladies that sit next to grandma see my engagement ring and laughed as they asked me ‘why would you want to go and get married?!’ 5:30 Mass at Blessed Sacrament will always be so special to me.
Sunday was my first wedding shower. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I do not enjoy knowing I will be the center of attention. I was a little nervous but it helped that it was held in a home where I spent countless nights as a teenager and was held by a friend that sees me at 6 am some mornings and still thinks I'm cool. My grandma, aunt, cousins and friends from the days at Blessed Sacrament came together and made me feel wonderful. As if getting to marry Ross isn't enough, I get to sit with friends, act girly and open presents too. SCORE!
Now, on to the not so good.
I am writing this a few days after the drama but suffice it to say, we’ve had a few glitches in the wedding planning process. Looking back to last week, they weren’t that big, but at the time, whoa! I. melted. Down. For anyone who received an invitation, we are indeed hosting a reception. And for out of town guests, you will shortly be receiving a new card with lots more details on it. P.S. wedding planners are not over-rated. They are over-paid, but not over-rated. I have neither the funds nor the willingness to pay their outlandish prices, but don’t think I haven’t thought about it. I am finding that I need to take a page out of my sister and sister-in-law’s books. I need to toughen this sensitive skin of mine and care just a teensy bit less what people think of me. This insatiable desire to please people has served me well in life in many areas but is kicking my butt right now. Note to self: you will NOT please everyone who comes to your wedding. People will have opinions and judgments, just as you have had at countless weddings. Note to self number 2: NEVER EVER judge another person’s wedding again.
So, as we approach this last weekend of showers so generously given by family and friends, I have spent some rich time reflecting and praying. My good friend Father Tim has for years been touting the benefits of at least 10 minutes of focused prayer each day. Turns out, he’s got a point. My time in prayer this week has calmed my anxieties and brought comfort to my heart. More than anything in the world, I want my little brother to be at my wedding. He won’t be. God is daily bringing me peace about this. I want our guests to see the fruits of mom and Katie’s hard work and to have a good time at our wedding. God is showing me that we will have wonderful wedding, glitches or not. I want to keep my focus on the holiness of the sacrament and the God who brought us together, not on Emily Post or Amy Vanderbilt. These 10 minutes a day are helping me immensely here.
So, we are 59 days from the wedding. And as excited as I am for it to be here, I’m a teeny tiny bit more excited for 60 days from now. For the day I am Ross’s wife and we can truly begin our lives together. Now I just need to take a deep breath and ride the roller coaster for two more, hopefully short, months!
the hostesses with mom and I
the maid of honor
Roller Coaster
July 29, 2009
I feel like I have lived a year in the last week. It has been a roller-coaster of ups and downs as we go full speed ahead into wedding-dom. I wouldn't change the memories we are making but Lord knows the word "elope" enters my mind regularly. And dad, YES. I KNOW you will give us money to go across the river and use the rest on a house. I KNOW. So far, I'm sticking with the wedding. But I reserve the right to change my mind.
So, the good:
This weekend I loaded up a ridiculous amount of clothes (yet still forgetting shoes and a slip) and my seven-year-old cousin and headed to Savannah. We went straight to the haven for brides that is the Gingerbread House. My grandma, my mom and my life-saving grace known to you as Katie Sullivan, came in for my first dress fitting. I tried it on and it fit like a glove. I can now save the $300 they would have charged me for alterations. Or I can continue to pour it into the price gouging wedding industry. That's probably more realistic. The time there was perfect though. The world's best maid of honor topped it off by sneaking champagne into the fitting. I'm sure they made bets on whether or not I'd spill it on my brand new, hand made gown but somebody lost cash. I sipped and smiled. And the owner did too when we left her the bottom half of the bottle!
I ended Saturday with one of my most favorite things to do in the world, go to Mass with my grandma. (I especially like the cushioned seats the old(er) folks get to sit on). I talked with the newest priest at Blessed Sacrament and hugged on some of the teenagers I babysat years ago. I let the sweet old ladies that sit next to grandma see my engagement ring and laughed as they asked me ‘why would you want to go and get married?!’ 5:30 Mass at Blessed Sacrament will always be so special to me.
Sunday was my first wedding shower. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I do not enjoy knowing I will be the center of attention. I was a little nervous but it helped that it was held in a home where I spent countless nights as a teenager and was held by a friend that sees me at 6 am some mornings and still thinks I'm cool. My grandma, aunt, cousins and friends from the days at Blessed Sacrament came together and made me feel wonderful. As if getting to marry Ross isn't enough, I get to sit with friends, act girly and open presents too. SCORE!
Now, on to the not so good.
I am writing this a few days after the drama but suffice it to say, we’ve had a few glitches in the wedding planning process. Looking back to last week, they weren’t that big, but at the time, whoa! I. melted. Down. For anyone who received an invitation, we are indeed hosting a reception. And for out of town guests, you will shortly be receiving a new card with lots more details on it. P.S. wedding planners are not over-rated. They are over-paid, but not over-rated. I have neither the funds nor the willingness to pay their outlandish prices, but don’t think I haven’t thought about it. I am finding that I need to take a page out of my sister and sister-in-law’s books. I need to toughen this sensitive skin of mine and care just a teensy bit less what people think of me. This insatiable desire to please people has served me well in life in many areas but is kicking my butt right now. Note to self: you will NOT please everyone who comes to your wedding. People will have opinions and judgments, just as you have had at countless weddings. Note to self number 2: NEVER EVER judge another person’s wedding again.
So, as we approach this last weekend of showers so generously given by family and friends, I have spent some rich time reflecting and praying. My good friend Father Tim has for years been touting the benefits of at least 10 minutes of focused prayer each day. Turns out, he’s got a point. My time in prayer this week has calmed my anxieties and brought comfort to my heart. More than anything in the world, I want my little brother to be at my wedding. He won’t be. God is daily bringing me peace about this. I want our guests to see the fruits of mom and Katie’s hard work and to have a good time at our wedding. God is showing me that we will have wonderful wedding, glitches or not. I want to keep my focus on the holiness of the sacrament and the God who brought us together, not on Emily Post or Amy Vanderbilt. These 10 minutes a day are helping me immensely here.
So, we are 59 days from the wedding. And as excited as I am for it to be here, I’m a teeny tiny bit more excited for 60 days from now. For the day I am Ross’s wife and we can truly begin our lives together. Now I just need to take a deep breath and ride the roller coaster for two more, hopefully short, months!
I feel like I have lived a year in the last week. It has been a roller-coaster of ups and downs as we go full speed ahead into wedding-dom. I wouldn't change the memories we are making but Lord knows the word "elope" enters my mind regularly. And dad, YES. I KNOW you will give us money to go across the river and use the rest on a house. I KNOW. So far, I'm sticking with the wedding. But I reserve the right to change my mind.
So, the good:
This weekend I loaded up a ridiculous amount of clothes (yet still forgetting shoes and a slip) and my seven-year-old cousin and headed to Savannah. We went straight to the haven for brides that is the Gingerbread House. My grandma, my mom and my life-saving grace known to you as Katie Sullivan, came in for my first dress fitting. I tried it on and it fit like a glove. I can now save the $300 they would have charged me for alterations. Or I can continue to pour it into the price gouging wedding industry. That's probably more realistic. The time there was perfect though. The world's best maid of honor topped it off by sneaking champagne into the fitting. I'm sure they made bets on whether or not I'd spill it on my brand new, hand made gown but somebody lost cash. I sipped and smiled. And the owner did too when we left her the bottom half of the bottle!
I ended Saturday with one of my most favorite things to do in the world, go to Mass with my grandma. (I especially like the cushioned seats the old(er) folks get to sit on). I talked with the newest priest at Blessed Sacrament and hugged on some of the teenagers I babysat years ago. I let the sweet old ladies that sit next to grandma see my engagement ring and laughed as they asked me ‘why would you want to go and get married?!’ 5:30 Mass at Blessed Sacrament will always be so special to me.
Sunday was my first wedding shower. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I do not enjoy knowing I will be the center of attention. I was a little nervous but it helped that it was held in a home where I spent countless nights as a teenager and was held by a friend that sees me at 6 am some mornings and still thinks I'm cool. My grandma, aunt, cousins and friends from the days at Blessed Sacrament came together and made me feel wonderful. As if getting to marry Ross isn't enough, I get to sit with friends, act girly and open presents too. SCORE!
Now, on to the not so good.
I am writing this a few days after the drama but suffice it to say, we’ve had a few glitches in the wedding planning process. Looking back to last week, they weren’t that big, but at the time, whoa! I. melted. Down. For anyone who received an invitation, we are indeed hosting a reception. And for out of town guests, you will shortly be receiving a new card with lots more details on it. P.S. wedding planners are not over-rated. They are over-paid, but not over-rated. I have neither the funds nor the willingness to pay their outlandish prices, but don’t think I haven’t thought about it. I am finding that I need to take a page out of my sister and sister-in-law’s books. I need to toughen this sensitive skin of mine and care just a teensy bit less what people think of me. This insatiable desire to please people has served me well in life in many areas but is kicking my butt right now. Note to self: you will NOT please everyone who comes to your wedding. People will have opinions and judgments, just as you have had at countless weddings. Note to self number 2: NEVER EVER judge another person’s wedding again.
So, as we approach this last weekend of showers so generously given by family and friends, I have spent some rich time reflecting and praying. My good friend Father Tim has for years been touting the benefits of at least 10 minutes of focused prayer each day. Turns out, he’s got a point. My time in prayer this week has calmed my anxieties and brought comfort to my heart. More than anything in the world, I want my little brother to be at my wedding. He won’t be. God is daily bringing me peace about this. I want our guests to see the fruits of mom and Katie’s hard work and to have a good time at our wedding. God is showing me that we will have wonderful wedding, glitches or not. I want to keep my focus on the holiness of the sacrament and the God who brought us together, not on Emily Post or Amy Vanderbilt. These 10 minutes a day are helping me immensely here.
So, we are 59 days from the wedding. And as excited as I am for it to be here, I’m a teeny tiny bit more excited for 60 days from now. For the day I am Ross’s wife and we can truly begin our lives together. Now I just need to take a deep breath and ride the roller coaster for two more, hopefully short, months!
the hostesses with mom and I
the maid of honor
Not me Monday!! -
July 13, 2009
So, as we start another week, let us review the embarrasing moments of la vida Keri.
I did NOT ride for 4 hours in a 2 seater convertible. I did NOT "share" the passenger seat with a 100lb golden retriever. I did NOT just google doggie mouthwash. Good thing I am NOT totally in love with said puppy. NOPE, NOT ME!
I did NOT get home to find that there was no dog food. When I made him some rice, the fiance did NOT
very happily exclaim, "babe! You cooked rice!!" I did NOT feel much sorrow for the fiance that he has to get excited over me cooking rice. NOPE, NOT ME!
I also did NOT receive private cooking lessons as a gift from my BFF. She clearly also did NOT feel sorry for poor Ross. He will NOT be excited if I expand my culinary repertoire past rice. NOPE, NOT ME!
I do NOT attribute my lack of culinary skill to my LOVE of all foods in convenience stores. I could NOT live on boston baked beans, lemon heads, air heads or Combos. I also did NOT discover 32 ounce drinks for .49 when I stopped in for breakfast today. I am NOT sooo excited about that that I know I'll be on a first named basis with employees in a week. NOPE, NOT ME!
I did NOT get a call from my favorite foster care supervisor today to find that an abused baby I took 4 years ago got ADOPTED TODAY! I am NOT thanking God for that little boy's resilience and for the family that chose to give him permanency. I am NOT so happy that God LET me be a part of that. NOPE, NOT ME!
I am NOT convinced that this day will be PHENOMENAL because little T-man was adopted. I am NOT sure that nothing can touch the pure, unadulterated joy I feel because of that- even scenario below. NOPE, NOT ME!
I did NOT just get verbally acosted by a VERY cracked-out patient. She was NOT yelling unintelligible words literally 2 inches from my face. I was NOT very nervous and therefore did NOT lure her to the door with the krispy kreme donut the nutrionist just gave me. As she was walking out, I did NOT secretly wonder if giving up the donut was worth it. NOPE, NOT ME!
The above scenario has NOT happened at least 10 times in the 3 years I've been at Grady with many patients, including once before with the same patient. This does NOT make me crazy (er) sometimes. NOPE, NOT ME!
I am NOT sooexcited that Scott suggested a 10 yr Relay for Life reunion at the UGA relay. I am NOT sure that we will be the oldest people there or that we will be the most obnoxious. I am NOT tempted to start planning for this event. which is in april. NOPE, NOT ME!
I did NOT feel a little sorry for Father Tim yesterday as he had lunch with R and I. Because he does NOT have his work cut out for him as he marries us and continues to be a part of our lives. I am NOT so thankful for him, even if I feel sorry for him! NOPE, NOT ME!
And I am clearly NOT procrastinating by wasting time on this blog instead of returning the 24 messages on my voice mail. I am NOT feeling eeever so slightly lazy as I think about how FULL my heart is right now. NOPE, NOT ME!
Have a great day!!
Peace~
So, as we start another week, let us review the embarrasing moments of la vida Keri.
I did NOT ride for 4 hours in a 2 seater convertible. I did NOT "share" the passenger seat with a 100lb golden retriever. I did NOT just google doggie mouthwash. Good thing I am NOT totally in love with said puppy. NOPE, NOT ME!
I did NOT get home to find that there was no dog food. When I made him some rice, the fiance did NOT
very happily exclaim, "babe! You cooked rice!!" I did NOT feel much sorrow for the fiance that he has to get excited over me cooking rice. NOPE, NOT ME!
I also did NOT receive private cooking lessons as a gift from my BFF. She clearly also did NOT feel sorry for poor Ross. He will NOT be excited if I expand my culinary repertoire past rice. NOPE, NOT ME!
I do NOT attribute my lack of culinary skill to my LOVE of all foods in convenience stores. I could NOT live on boston baked beans, lemon heads, air heads or Combos. I also did NOT discover 32 ounce drinks for .49 when I stopped in for breakfast today. I am NOT sooo excited about that that I know I'll be on a first named basis with employees in a week. NOPE, NOT ME!
I did NOT get a call from my favorite foster care supervisor today to find that an abused baby I took 4 years ago got ADOPTED TODAY! I am NOT thanking God for that little boy's resilience and for the family that chose to give him permanency. I am NOT so happy that God LET me be a part of that. NOPE, NOT ME!
I am NOT convinced that this day will be PHENOMENAL because little T-man was adopted. I am NOT sure that nothing can touch the pure, unadulterated joy I feel because of that- even scenario below. NOPE, NOT ME!
I did NOT just get verbally acosted by a VERY cracked-out patient. She was NOT yelling unintelligible words literally 2 inches from my face. I was NOT very nervous and therefore did NOT lure her to the door with the krispy kreme donut the nutrionist just gave me. As she was walking out, I did NOT secretly wonder if giving up the donut was worth it. NOPE, NOT ME!
The above scenario has NOT happened at least 10 times in the 3 years I've been at Grady with many patients, including once before with the same patient. This does NOT make me crazy (er) sometimes. NOPE, NOT ME!
I am NOT sooexcited that Scott suggested a 10 yr Relay for Life reunion at the UGA relay. I am NOT sure that we will be the oldest people there or that we will be the most obnoxious. I am NOT tempted to start planning for this event. which is in april. NOPE, NOT ME!
I did NOT feel a little sorry for Father Tim yesterday as he had lunch with R and I. Because he does NOT have his work cut out for him as he marries us and continues to be a part of our lives. I am NOT so thankful for him, even if I feel sorry for him! NOPE, NOT ME!
And I am clearly NOT procrastinating by wasting time on this blog instead of returning the 24 messages on my voice mail. I am NOT feeling eeever so slightly lazy as I think about how FULL my heart is right now. NOPE, NOT ME!
Have a great day!!
Peace~
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