One a Promise, Two a Promise.


Love’s a scary thing when you step back from it. It just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. You’d give absolutely anything and everything for this one human. This perfectly imperfect, just as flawed as you human. Who could at any given moment-and potentially would in our messed up society-choose to no longer love you and walk away. And yet, we do everything for them day in and day out. Constantly trying to shove down that little blurp of fear that’s constantly whispering in your ear..telling you maybe, just maybe you won’t get your happily ever after. Despite the fear,  I look around my life and  see others constantly making all of these sacrifices for love. I see them giving up things they once dreamt of to pull them closer to the person they could’ve never imagined up on their own. It’s then that I realize I’m just as guilty of the societal ‘YOU’RE CRAZY’ reactions. When in all reality, I’d give anything to be doing what they’re doing.

So tell me-if love in this world is so unsure, why do we lean on it with our whole hearts?

Well, I don’t know about the rest of the world, but I know a little bit about my own heart. My answer is simple, it’s you.

It’s the way I’ve fallen in love with you, like I never have before. It’s consumed in the one big thing, Christ.

It’s followed by the million little things. The way you hold my hand. The way you pull me in and curl me up next to you. The screenshot from every ‘date before she says i do.’ The beautiful conversations about our Father and the blessings given to us. The morning encouragements. The way I miss you every minute of every single day. The way my heart stops when you tell me you love me, no matter how many times you’ve said it before. The feeling of seeing you for the first time in a week. How I know you don’t ever want to let me go, ‘nope, I’m not done holding you yet.’ The support in every split second mind change I come up with in a day. The spontaneity of our forever young hearts. The respect of waiting as patiently as possible. The confused looks from others and tried definitions of courting. Our beautiful devotional times. Every glamorous moment I get to spend being picked on by you, and fighting you back twice as much. The moments you pull me back from shutting down. The prayers we pray, each and every day. The transitional times from perfect to heart wrenching and back again. The struggles of loving from a distance, and realizing repeatedly that we’re so blessed to do so. The Mickey Mouse sandwiches. The ten squats a day. The times we get lost in corn mazes and you secretly resent me for making you think I’ve been stolen. The push you give me to be amazing at anything I attempt. Making me scrambies the morning of my half marathon. The way you sleep endlessly and I never do, even through all of the times I should be the one exhausted. The way you make me fall out of the car in Family Dollar parking lots. The way we get our fat girl on, only increasing our dad bod, helloooooo Culvers. The way you look at me laughing about our green paint issues. The way you try to handle me just the right amount, while standing back to let me shine the rest of the time. The way you miss me and worry about me when I’m away. How you always leave me voicemails because I like to listen to them on repeat when I’m longing to hear your voice. All of the notes you keep, showing me again and again that you want to know everything about me. The way you’re my safe haven, loving me so genuinely. A girl could go on forever…that’s the plan anyway.

You are simply beautiful. One of the most amazing, selfless, stubborn, goofy, Christ loving people I have ever met. You absolutely make my life shine like the diamond that you are. Our love story cracks me up. It’s the kind of story that people think you’re making up when you answer to them ‘So how did you two lovebirds meet?’

Being in your arms in this crazy world through this wild life, it’s like standing outside in the middle of a storm. It’s chaotic-everything near us is swirling in the wind, the rain comes down hard all around. Despite the raindrops, I look up, into your beautiful blues. The world gets blurry, fades away, and all I see is love. The rain freezes forming droplets stilled in midair, the air from the storm freezes me, my eyes freeze to yours. You put your hand on my heart and it bursts for you, melting the leftover ice from the past.

So if I’m going to be ‘stupid’ like society says, let me be stupid for believing in us. For being completely blissed out and madly in love with you. Let me be stupid for having a faith that is stronger than the weight the world puts on a halfway young couple in love. Let me be stupid for loving you.

Someday, forever.

Thank you Jesus.



Rock the Boat.


Complicated. Why does it all have to be so complicated? The college. The love. The future. The now. It doesn’t make any sense to me. In some classes you’ll learn about how philosophers had these theories that you should engage in ‘that which makes you happy’….if that’s the case then why do I put myself through college? Do you ever feel sometimes that you’re just a lost fish in the sea? Like you’re only swimming along because the rest of the class is swarming around you, smothering you? And that somedays [like today] you turn your back against your class of fish for just a moment, and realize you just might be doing it because they are? You think for a second where your life was two and a half years ago when you stepped onto your first college campus. You realize that you’re just as lost and alone in your life now as you were back then. That you still have just as little of an idea what you want to do with your future as you did when you were a freshman. And now you’re a junior and you’re REALLY expected to know. It’s overwhelming. It is like a thousand bricks pressed down onto your chest while you’re drowning for just a second of fresh air. And the other end of it is almost like an addiction. You’re in school for three and a half month increments at a time. When you’re in school, if you’re me, you absolutely hate your life. You want to cry every second of everyday, rip every hair follicle you have out, punch yourself in the head for enrolling in the hard professors-again, and cry some more. You question every decision you could possibly make-like ever. Do you really want that second taco? Does he really love you? Blue pen or black? And then somehow you look up and you have a month left of your semester but you’re ready to be done. So you lose your mind and motivation at the perfect time and just want to give up. Finally you have to kick yourself in the rear one more time and buckle back down, you can’t give up yet. Then you look up again and just like that, you’re semester is done. Now you have a month off before entering in your sixth semester of Hell on Earth. And you kinda miss it after a week or two. Like not enough to actually go back, but just enough to remember feeling worthy and intelligent when getting back your “I’m a decent college student” all-nighter paper from last week. And then before you know it, you’re back into your next semester, and you’re hair hasn’t grown back enough yet to pull out again…so now what are you supposed to do? You resort to an average of three mental breakdowns a week. Writing it all down and making it official that you’re still losing your mind. Babbling on to people that could care less, and no one in particular. Talking about bricks, and classes of fish, and sobbing, and food. College and love and life, it’s all a mess. My hair’s a mess, my heart’s a mess, and it’s raining out today.



Allure in the Anguish.


She is shattered, she’s torn, a heart without mending

No sense to be made, just torment unending

Skin burns at the surface, her sins sit and fester

Stays calm and collect, you continue to test her

Is she changed and made new can you see where she’s bruised?

Look close enough dear she has scars from you too

She’ll let you get closer than many before

Her heart cold as ice numbing straight to your core

You tell her she’s beauty but she doesn’t know

Looking in through your eyes what more could you show

Peculiar a woman not really her own

Insanity lingers to be fully known

Watch her hold it together while dying inside

Back alley stitches fresh scars will soon hide

Withers apart but you still see that smile

Painfully faking the bliss for a while

Her heart lurking silent, a venus fly trap

Too close to her truth, armed and ready to snap

Loving you truly, intriguing and deep

Charisma and charm keeps you swept off your feet

Hope’s reeling inside you majestic and true

The life you desire she can’t dare to give you

You look in her eyes seeing things you may need

They crack at the seams overflowing with greed

Save yourself now no matter her gaze

Get out while you can as her soul starts to blaze

Moment draws near all hope lost heart to steal

You’re writhing in pain as she spots her next meal.


Equip of the Willing, Heart of the Able.


Have you ever seen a counselor? I have, on and off for probably around fifteen years. Not a lot of people know that about me. These counselors talk a lot about how you have points of impact in your days. Points of your life that deeply change you. That halt you in your tracks and reshape your destination. Moments that change your mind about everything you thought you knew and your point of view altogether. I think a lot about those seconds in time in my own life. I think there were too many points of impact for me to think about. Which one was it, which one shattered me way back when? Do our points of impact show up in the form of someone else? Was it any of you? Multiple villains that tore apart my life for such similar and yet distinctive reasonings? Was it something I did? Brought on by the dark and distorted woman I fell to becoming? I’m continuously curious. I’ve endured many of these points in my few days. So many terrible, horrible, gut wrenching points of impact that should have broken me long before the last.

I’ve been told many times that there’s something bigger to my story, to who I am and the things that I’ve been through. Whenever people say this kind of thing to me, I get all wrapped up within my own imagination. For a few seconds, I let myself think this could be a reality. That maybe someday, the Lord could have me sharing all of the deep, dark, and intimate details of the hells I’ve trudged through here on this side of heaven. That through all of the soul scorching struggles I have endured, and overcome through the Lord alone, someone else could understand. The idea that I could meet some other woman or man where they’re at, and show them what the Lord has shown me. It’s surreal. It would be the utmost honor.

Part of me feels this, while the other part pulls in the opposite direction. I have a great understanding that this is a world pouring out over the brim with these stories of painful lives. While I haven’t heard even the smallest amount of the ones that are out there, I think about them. I hear other peoples’ stories, I think about my own, and I think about the stories that are still not laid upon my ears, upon my heart. I know the importance of having my story be heard by people. Just as I know I need to hear the deepest wounds from the hearts of others. I long to be able to cry with them, mourn with these broken hearts over the sinful natures of our earthly home. I can’t help but feel though, that my story is too deep for some people. That if I truly and fully disclosed all of the thoughts, feelings, and emotions I’ve gone through within my own experiences, people would pull away in fear. Why wouldn’t they? It’s some deadening stuff….painfully miserable darkness.

I went through my share of depressing days-leaning on mentally, emotionally, and physically degrading of self. Sadly, they lasted far too long than should have ever began. But for a while now, I’ve been taking act in better ways to cope with the curveballs life and the enemy throw my way. For years, I’ve been an on and off runner. Loving it certain days, hating it the next-unable to fully decide where I stand. Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of running. A lot, a lot. And it makes my heart so beyond blessed. For a half a year I thought about doing a half marathon. Back then, up until a month and a half ago, the thought of running miles made me just as exhausted as I get from saying that. I always classified myself as a ‘lower category of runners.’ One that doesn’t fit in the ‘half marathon-able group.’ But why is that? Why would there even be these made up categories in my mind? Do I honestly think God puts these barriers on my capabilities as a person, as a woman made in His image? Heck no!

So I’m training! And I’m doing it! And I won’t give up, even when it gets hard.

Though when I started training, I thought there wouldn’t be a wall. I thought I’d just keep running on the daily, lowering my times while building up my miles. Then this Tuesday, I got sick. I felt absolutely horrid. Just ridiculous brain clogging, a terrible sore throat, and the most zombified exhaustion of the body I’ve had in a really long time.

I was clearly in no capable position to go out and run many a miles. So I had two days off in a row. During those two days, I tried everything in my powers, and those of the Higher dependency, to get back to normal. Yesterday, I wasn’t feeling even closely back to my normal self. But, I wasn’t dying. So I made myself get up and get out, pushing forward. I ran four miles. A route that should have literally felt like absolutely nothing after the ridiculous amount of running my body has graciously let me accomplish lately. After my miles were up, I was thoroughly peeved. I was so ashamed in myself. Realizing how far my training had fallen in just two days, all because I was sick. I guess I just left it at that.

Then today, I pushed myself a little harder. I prayed a little harder while I stretched before I headed out. I knew I was feeling slightly better, and that was enough for me to mentally trudge forward-halfway willing. Yet again, my body was more than exhausted within the first mile and a half. It just didn’t make any sense to me. It felt like my body didn’t even know what it was doing. Like I was running down the sidewalk, probably looking like the strangest dangling noodle flailing down the street. My mind could only imagine the crazy I looked to those poor bystanders on the streets. But crazy flailing noodle or not, I did my run anyways. I pushed myself to continue on anyways. Because it’s important to me. And knowing it’s important to me, I know it’s important to God too. 

So, mile four hit. Finally. Literally ready to drop to the side of Elmwood and Vine, not a care in the world. However, I didn’t do that. I started walking, ready to cool down before heading home. I took my arm band off to end my workout on Nike. And then I heard this song I have, something I’ve never heard before. It caught my attention as a foreign song on my running playlist-kind of like a spoken word art. Almost instantly, my body was just covered in chills. Goosebumps crawled over every single part of me. The words that powered heavily into my headphones were weighing so heavily on my heart, and I knew right away I had to keep running. So I did, I ran to the rest of this song, completely ignorant to the pain my body was in. As I ran, I could still see the goosebumps still crawling all over and around my body. The outward appearance an example of the emotions running through my heart like my feet running along the sidewalks of this town. Never before have I experienced something quite similar to this. So many God moments in my life, in all that I’ve lived through and within-just nothing like this. Never before have I felt so convicted to be exactly who I am in Christ. Feeling so beyond blessed to be the woman I am everyday for the righteous Lord my heart is called to serve. Never before have I ended my run quite like this. Pushing so hard forward, tears streaming so freely from my eyes down my cheeks. Thanking God so heavily for His time with me. Time within my heart that I’ve been seeking out from Him. Time to have Him lay everything on my heart-all that He wants me to do, be, and live in my own life, solely for Him. Thanking Him for this time to be vulnerable and weak, to let Him build me back up again.

I’m so grateful for this convicting song. This song that will probably never mean to another what it does in my heart. The impact it had on me through those three minutes and forty-five seconds. It truly amazes me, the great power we find in such a simplicity of words. You read a story or phrase, a poem, sometimes just a word, or hear a song that moves you to tears. That’s the kind of writing I want to make real in this world. The kind of impact the Lord has on my heart every moment of every single day. The broken down, vulnerable, Truth in it all. It’s the kind of emotion and heart wrench that drops you to your knees at the feet of the Lord. Unashamed to be exactly who you are, knowing full well that He’s waited for you to let go of everything else. To drop the world, and pick up your cross. That’s the kind of impact I want my thoughts, words, and actions to have on the people around me. Even if it’s just one person. Just another person to us here on earth is the wondrous angel God seeks for Heaven.

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Lucky Number Thirteen.


Welp, here goes nothin..


You may think you played an insignificant part in my history. But you’re still someone that I hurt. Someone that felt the trials of my ever changing heart. While still so young, you were devastated. I never understood until four plus years later, when you finally admitted it to me. When you finally asked me why things happened the way they did. I wish I had the answers you sought out back then.


You taught me the meaning of a true friendship. In a twisted kind of way. That you would be there for me absolutely no matter what, no if-ands-or-buts-about-it. There’s something deeply cherished in that. But you also continuously help into pulling me away from everything I know I stand for in my cherished life. Or used to. Because that’s over and done with. Never again.


Sadly for you, you were the first one that truly hurt over me during all of the in between. You were one of the first ones that told me to walk away, that there’s no way it could work after so much hurt had been done. That I deserved so much more. You made sure that I had an understanding of what I was pulling myself back into. You were right.


You were all wrapped up in sin in my life. It’s so beyond frustrating to me. I know that I shouldn’t ever wish any parts of my story away. I know that God redeems all, that He is bigger than any of the sins my past could ever hold over my head. But my sins with you are devastating. And when does that leeway end? I don’t even remember what it was ever like being that damaged of a young woman. But I know that because I was her at one point in my life, you suffered heartache.


My story with you is an emotional one. You were kind of difficult for me to understand always. When we talked, I knew in my heart of hearts the type of woman God desired me to be. I had gotten a taste of what it was like to be the absolute opposite. Of what it meant to go against everything I knew I wanted to stand for in my life. I had a choice to make. Fall back into the type of life I knew I never again wanted to touch, or move on with my life. Making my best attempt to give my future and faith a fair shot.


The first guy to ever take me on a truly honest real date. Picking every detail about what our date consisted of, where we went to dinner, picking me up at my doorstep, opening my car door, bringing my a King Sized Reeses (kudos to you), walking me back to my doorstep. I was so flattered. I know I enjoyed being able to spend time with you. You respected me intently, but it just wasn’t enough for me to stay at that place in my life. I needed to pull toward my faith more than settle where I was in it at that point.


I forget how it is that we even became a thing. It feels like a whole other lifetime. To no mistake of your own, I fell away from my faith during that month. But as a result, I realized what effort I needed to continuously put in to pursuing my faith. I could’ve done without it, but God uses it all.


You taught me to not be the one to pursue. Not because you manned up, but more of a trial and error issue of my heart. Sadly, this wouldn’t be the last time I had to learn this. But this one was the big one. It really showed me to respect myself enough to trust God over my own instincts. Because my instincts will be wrong. No doubt about it. I just know you really cared…even though you’re unhealthily excessive about it.


The thought of the time I spent with you seems so foreign and weird. I guess you taught me that things would almost always be too good to be true. And when they were, to run for the hills. Because that’s just what you did. I guess when someone is everything you’ve ever wanted, they still aren’t enough. Makes sense. Great for the self esteem of a woman.


You are such a genuine person. Literally one of the most kind hearted people I have ever met. You are wise, and thorough about the life you want you live. You strive for a determined future, for being wonderfully and truthfully happy. That’s very admirable. You treated me like a princess. Unbelievably so.


Just so random. I think when someone drops off the face of the earth and ignores you for absolutely no reason, that should hint at you to pack your bags running. But, someone’s an ignorant girl. *cough* My life. Just because I’m twenty doesn’t mean I have to be grown up and wise yet. I had just barely turned twenty merely a week ago, so that barely counts as growing up-right??


You’re a toughy. You are confusing, angry, and probably right to hate me. You were one of my best friends. Someone I cherished more. So maybe this ache hurts more than any of the rest because you were truly cared about long before I broke your heart. You think that no matter what I came into your life for a reason, but I think you were in mine for an even larger one. I think you’re the switch. I think you were the trigger to my loaded gun. That all of this has been building up for a long time. That it was a fire I watched ignite itself. And now I watch as our friendship goes up in flames because of my own selfish past. Know, that I’m praying for you always. Even when the rest is dead and gone.


I’ve written novels on you, and I don’t really think I have to add to it. This that I’ve said before still remains true..You are the muse to the darkness inside me. That should be enough for me to understand. Thanks for that..

I thought this was a good idea. I thought this would bring some kind of clarity. Some kind of perspective, or closure. Something to make it all official and there to simply see. See the hurt, grasp an understanding of the damages done. Can we wash my war paint off yet?

But it makes me sick to my stomach. So many broken hearts. And for what? Ending one vicious cycle just to pick up another? Do I truly think I’m better off now? I ended a terrible cycle in my life that truly hurt two people. It hurt me, and him. Then my new cycle, while unintentional, it hurts. It burns, it breaks, shatters and rips apart every piece of you.

I guess that’s where humility comes in. Because this is one blog I’m not proud to write. These are words that break my heart to have to bring into reality. These truths that so many people will never understand. That I don’t understand. That I can’t even begin to put into order. It’s truly shattering.

My entire life, it was drilled into my head that the phrase “I’m Sorry” means that “you’ll never do it again.” So I grew up paying close attention to when people threw that phrase in my face. Like it simply meant less to them than yesterday’s worthless losing lottery ticket numbers. I always despised when people would say “I’m Sorry.” I grew up learning to doubt it. To think back to them, but are you really sorry? Because most of the time, they aren’t. And most of the time, they’re really saying it for themselves. To make themselves feel better about acting like a crappy, inhumane individual.

So I’m going to tell you something, although it’s no giant secret. In fact, i’m quite sure I’ve told you before. So in that sense, let me reiterate to you. From the very depths of my heart and soul, I’m Sorry. For causing you pain, for being the source of your heartache-no matter how big or small. It matters. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that before. Your heart, it wasn’t deeply protected by me the way it should’ve been. It wasn’t paid close enough attention to. It was mistreated, emotionally abused, and let down. I know I’m human and I’m bound to let you down. But it wasn’t supposed to be like that for you. So I’m sorry. I can only imagine the heartaches of trauma I made you suffer through. I hope you know it was never in my intention. And I know that doesn’t really matter. From experience, I know that hurt is hurt, no matter the direction it’s coming from. When life feels like it’s ending, I promise you it isn’t. Just remember, God’s got your back. He’s not letting you go through all of this for no reason. He has a purpose, and He’s just waiting for you to accept that and find peace in it. Trust in Him.

Somewhere, I think it had to end. That this life shattering cycle would come to a close. I just never thought I’d see the day it would literally come crashing down all around me. Every which way I turn. Although it’s sad, I know to look for the good in it all. I know better now to deeply embrace it. To embrace the change, the quiet hearted peace. To know that whatever is going on here, chaos and all, just means that God is doing serious work up above.

So tell me, now that you have a teeny understanding of just how bad I’ve messed it all up, what would you do? You seem to know all of the answers my life doesn’t even ask anyways…oh, wait.

Will she ever be seen differently? Will she ever stop feeling like the people that look at her see right through her? Will she ever stop feeling like the people that look her in the eyes can see her burning pain that’s hidden so carefully deep below the surface? Will she ever stop feeling forever damaged and broken? Like a mosaic gone so wrong, the shattered glass can’t be created into anything new. Will she ever stop feeling like the world’s largest unsolvable puzzle? Like each of these thousand pieces is from an entirely different puzzle. Assuring there is no way to solve it, put it all together, or make it whole again. Just damaged. Broken.

Heartbreak is real. Sin is real. And it will tear your entire life apart. It will consume your identity. Make you mistake even yourself for who you really are.

Lucky number thirteen. Thirteen broken hearts. One shattered girl.

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This morning, I woke up and I didn’t want to get out of bed. I really love to sleep, and I don’t mean to brag…but sleep really loves me too. This morning I woke up and stayed in bed an extra half an hour like just any other morning when I’m not rushing off to anything. I finally got up, and went on a run. Nothing too dramatic, your average three and a half miles. I ran because I’ve gotten into the system of it this week and I felt like striving on. Like normal, I waited until too late in the day, even though it was only nine in the morning. Still, it was beyond hot and humid to be out on those country roads, burnin rubber under the soles of my feet. By the time I got home from my run, my parents were getting up just as I was cooling down. After placing myself in front of my fan for ten minutes, dousing myself in a bottle of water, I went in by my mom. I needed a pep talk. Tonight was supposed to be the first night I would work PM’s by myself at my new job. I had only trained for two days, and I felt ready, but hesitant to take on this task. After my mom gave me some words of wisdom, I thought I was another step in the ready direction for the hefty goal of the day. So I took a shower, put on my scrubs, and mentally prepared myself. I figured I’d make the day worth as much as I could, getting things accomplished. So I ran to FonDuLac quick, a few hours before my shift started. I thought of how productive I was being, and I felt pretty proud of myself. I made two different stops and got things done! I left my last stop in time to get me to work thirty minutes early. Plenty of time to look over all of my resident notes, and update myself on anything new I needed to know from being off the last two days. I tried to be an overachiever today. I set my GPS up to get me to work because there’s construction consuming my normal route from FonDuLac to Mount Calvary. I headed out on the back roads, just like I do every single day. I watched as I left FonDuLac, I watched as I entered each tiny town, and left it just as quickly. Singing along with the radio like I was on the American Idol stage. I watched as I passed the Mount Calvary sign, pleased with how much time I’d have before work to prepare. I took a left onto Calvary Street. I thought to myself that I didn’t even need to look at my GPS anymore, I knew where I was, work was up the hill on the left. I was singing along to Macky’s “She’ll Come Runnin” on repeat like always. I thought to myself that I knew these roads pretty well. I thought to myself that this was the point where the speed limit changed. I glanced my eyes to my dash screen, and then back up at the road.

There he was. I didn’t even have time to react, but I did. Where did he even come from? I know I didn’t follow him into town. I didn’t follow anyone into town. It was just me. There was nobody on Calvary Street when I took that left. It was just me. But he must’ve come from somewhere, because here he is. All of this in a second.

I slammed my feet onto my breaks before my mind even realized what was happening. I’ve never heard sounds like that before. I’ve never felt a car jerk that way before. I stopped as much as I could as fast as I could. I tried to turn my car to the right to avoid him, but there was a sign there blocking the way to the field off the road. I had nowhere to go. He wasn’t moving, I couldn’t stop, and I had nowhere else to go.

And then we hit. Impact. Wreckage.

Now I have some kind of understanding of what the movies always make it look like. For those mere seconds, life slows. Everything in my car went flying. All of it pushing as far forward as it could go without escaping my windshield. My cold pizza for break at work, bouncing off my passenger air bag compartment. My tea and water flying from the middle counsel into my radio system. My purse and all of its contents, my books, my cell phone, everything flying forward so fast, with nowhere to go. My sunglasses, that sat so cozily on my face, completely ripped off and into the dashboard from the force. My body, every part of me pushing into my steering wheel. My head jerking forward so fast, still nowhere to go. My legs coming up so quick, smashing so hard into my steering wheel and dashboard. My seatbelt, pulling me as much back as possible against the heavy pulls forward. My breath, absolutely gone and speechless to my lips. My mind, not even understanding what is going on or what to do.

Then just black.

So many thoughts. So much shock. So many tears. I don’t even know how I managed to put my car in park. I didn’t remember to put on my hazards or turn my car off. Just to get out and see if he’s okay. Like a checklist in my mind. A shook up sob restarting after each mental box was x’d. His safety, check. The police, someone called, check. My parents, CRAP! Realizing how in shock I was. I ran back to my car and searched the upheaval inside for my cell phone. I couldn’t get my fingers still enough to unlock my phone, let alone dial my parents. So many unintelligible sobs I couldn’t even believe I was speaking. ‘I got in a car accident.’ I’m sure it came out absolutely nothing normal sounding like that. Still in shock, I didn’t even realize people were talking to me. Hannah, she asked you if you were okay. CRAP! I didn’t even think! Looking down and around myself to see if anything was battered or torn. No, no, I’m okay. Check. Work, CRAP! I’m a minute away, and I have to make this call. I won’t be coming in tonight. All of the mental preparations I was making, done for the day. Macky and Mandy, oh my gosh. How in the world could I call either of you and tell you I’ve been in a car accident? How did I get in this position? I don’t get in car accidents. This kind of thing has never happened to me before. The calls would have to wait, there’s no way I can mentally handle that right now. My car, I should probably look at it. Oh my gosh. This isn’t my car. My car is nice, beautiful, Dori. These shattered and smashed pieces all around are the remains of her front half. The broken headlights, blinkers, paint, plastic pieces strewn all over the road are now Dori. The massively crunched and smashed ends of her are her results. The wheel well insides laying behind my precious baby near the ditch, how did that get all the way back there? The bent axle and frame, how did that even happen? How did this even happen?

So much. So many people. So many questions. So much emotion. So much panic. So much confusion. So much shock. So many tears and breathless sobs. So much. Too much.

I couldn’t stop the thoughts from pouring in. What is God trying to show me? Why did this happen? I’ve always wondered what it would feel like. I’ve always wondered how it would happen. How the people I love would react. I can’t believe this happened to me. I can’t believe it. I was a minute away from work. I was so ready and motivated to be the best CNA I could be tonight. I was ready to take on this shift. What if I wasn’t getting to work a half an hour early? Would I still be in an accident? I woke up today like any other. Why do I take my life for granted? Do I take my life for granted? What if my accident was worse than it was? What if I never walked away from it? I never thought I’d see my brand new car being lifted on a tow, like a crumpled box car. I never thought I’d hear so much fear in my parents’ voices, ‘Are you OK?!’ I never thought I’d pray so much and so hard to God. Wondering what was going on, what I was supposed to do, begging Him to take the reigns. Begging Him for guidance. I just don’t understand. How did this happen to me?

I woke up this morning and I didn’t want to get out of bed. I wanted to lay in bed and dream about the people I love. This morning I got out of bed anyways and became productive with my day. I ran, because I have two working legs and two working feet and my body lets me run. I talked to strangers because I love to be friendly. I sang along to my favorite CD in my car, because whether or not it sounds good, I have a voice I can use.

I woke up this morning and I got in a wreck. Because I’m human. I cried heavy tears today because I was more scared and confused than I have ever been. I got angry because I didn’t have all the answers, and I’m the furthest thing away from them.

I woke up this morning and I know I took a million things around my life for granted. And that makes my heart the heaviest it’s been.

I woke up this morning and I literally saw that opportunity flash right before my eyes.