Most people think joy is a feeling.  We hear people say, “that gave me such joy” or “I’m just filled with joy today” to describe when they are feeling exceptionally happy.  The problem with feelings are that they are temporary and very, very fickle.  You can go from bliss to miserable in a matter of seconds.  So when we describe joy as a feeling we are selling ourselves short.

To me joy is a decision, a commitment.  To live your life filled with joy each day is to make a conscious decision and commitment that you are going to open yourself to being the person God designed you to be.  When you make that commitment you will be amazed at just how wonderful life can be.

And yet…..

Sometimes life hurts.  Can you still be joyful when it hurts so much?  This question has been on my mind more than usual this week.  Recent events have me looking for joy in places devastated by tragedy.  Guess what… it’s still there.

Where is joy when life hurts, when your feelings say that you just can’t take anymore?

Joy is knowing that you have been created by a God who loves you, who counts every hair on your head and who has a plan for your life that is good.

So when you don’t feel the joy what do you do?  You take a breath, close your eyes and commit once again to the path he has laid out for you.  Trusting that you will make it and it won’t always hurt this much.

Today, my freshman son had his grades pulled and they’re not as high as I would have liked them to be. We had a hard time scheduling stuff this first year of virtual school. I have to admit we both dropped the ball on making sure stuff got done on time.

The girls did great this year – one in 4th grade and the other in 7th. The literally kicked home-schools butt this year. They rock like that.

I guess my only excuse is that I gave him too  much freedom and spent too much time on my own school work instead of keeping better track of his. I’ll know better for next year – if they don’t force me to send him to his districted school that is.

• Ummm that’s not a lane dummy…
• Are you seriously walking across the crosswalk that slowly?
• I would get stuck behind the slowest driver ever while driving down a one lane street.
• Gah why are they doing road work during morning rush hour?!
• Oh crap! I totally am stuck in the intersection…greattttt.

At the gym:

• Spin or run? Spin or run? Spin or run? Ok neither, I’m doing the elliptical.
• I wonder what would happen if I tripped and fell off the treadmill? Could you die from doing that? I wonder if tripping on the treadmill is a common gym occurrence?
• Dang that lady is lifting heavier weights than me and she is like 3 times older than I am, gotta step up my game.
• Why do all the guys take over the weight room, can’t there be like a ladies only time?
• Why am I sweating this much? Is this normal? Are people staring at my sweatiness? Oh crap my shirt is definitely super sweaty and now I got sweat all over the mat. This is nasty! People are judging me! Why am I still sweating so much?! I need to leave!

At the grocery store:

• Hm should I get the organic hummus or the normal kind? Artichoke or sundried tomato? Big tub or little one?
• Almond butter or sun butter? Or maybe peanut butter? Crunchy or creamy? I think I like this brand, but now I can’t remember? Oh wait, cashew butter…I wonder if that’s any good?
• Whoa, this apple is like the size of my head!
• Does frozen fruit have the same amount of nutrients as fresh? Huh, maybe I should look that up when I get home.
• Wait does cage free eggs mean like the chickens aren’t kept in cages? Does that make them healthier? I really should look this shit up.

At home:

• Um who has been eating my dark chocolate? I told you guys not to eat, it’s like super expensive and has a really high cacao percentage, so just like don’t.
• I really should shower and make my lunch for tomorrow…ok just one more episode and then I’m on it…2 hours later…crap it’s already 10 o’clock! I haven’t done anything!
• Is it weird if I wear the same socks a few days in a row? Probably? Eh, whatever.
• Can somebody bring me a towel?! Who moved my face wash?! I need a new tooth brush!
• Why is it so hot in this house?! I can’t sleep! Maybe if I’m on my stomach…nope! Side? Nope! Ok stop thinking about how you can’t sleep or you’ll never get to sleep! Ok, now I am over thinking this! Crap!

haha Hey Everybody! Hopefully now you have a little more insight into some of my daily thought processes! I think it’s really funny when I read stuff like this because everyone ends up having the craziest random thoughts…or maybe I am just a weirdo! haha but hopefully you found something you could relate to in my list!

Alright, now on to life lately!

So breakfasts this week have been an english muffin, peanut butter, and fruit combo of some sort! I am all about the toasted Ezekiel english muffin topped with melty peanut butter…it really fills me up and has been nice to incorporate a new breakfast into my usual oatmeal, smoothie, overnight oats rotation!

For lunches I have been trying to get a lot of veggies in because I feel like my fruit intake is crazy high, but my veggie intake has been lacking some! So, I had a delicious throw in everything kind of salad yesterday that was to die for!!!!

This had a combo of spinach, kale, and romaine lettuce…topped with celery, apple, bell pepper, cucumber, strawberries, tomatoes, dried cherries, & pistachio meats..and a olive oil/apple cider spicy dressing.

Dinners have been me trying to eat what I crave and so they have varied all week! One night it was a cereal/yogurt/sunbutter/cocoa/chocolate chip/berry bowl kind of night…

And then another night I did the hot food bar and got some mac n’ cheese, spicy tri-tip bites, and a mixed salad topped with all kinds of veggies(mushrooms, peppers, red onion, peas, corn, garbanzo beans, etc.)!

And to conclude this post…I will include a pic of a young me just chillin’ with my pops

I came across this baby the other day when I was trying to find an envelope! Apparently pictures get strewn everywhere in our house, but this one did make my day a little brighter…so that’s always a good sign!

Ok, and last thing…remember to vote (or keep voting, since you can vote once a day!) for me by clicking this link, then selecting my name/picture, and then casting your vote! I thank you all in advance and hope you have wonderful weekends!!

http://runrocknroll.competitor.com/brooksmyfirsthalf

My life has changed a lot since I last wrote. I am now in full time ministry as a youth pastor in Enid, Oklahoma. Between December 2012 and January 2013, my entire life changed: my location, my job, my church…even my status as a student at NTS (“in-resident student” changed to “distance, in-ministry student”). Don’t get me wrong, I have loved these changes, but it has taken some time to get used to them. Sometimes I am still very homesick for Kansas City, particularly when I am craving a cup of Roasterie coffee or needing a face-to-face chat with an old friend. Maybe blogging can help me with some of these changes…

So here I go again, entering the blog-o-sphere with hopes that I will post more often and promises to Randy that I won’t forget my password this time.

I finally got to log into the site and start uploading the issues, and poked around to see what things look like and it’s fabulous!! Looks like it will be for the iPad, iPhone, Android, PC and Macs. the Android was a happy surprise I wasn’t expecting. The opening PC/MAC title page looks amazing, I’m getting very excited and now that I can finally start working on things again I can stop feeling so lazy.

The Apple store app itself is still being created and then will have to go through apple approval but shouldn’t be to much longer (a week or so depending on how long apple takes) Looks as if the PC/Mac editions can go up as soon as I figure out the workings of this new site and get things finalized and tweaked for issue 1 & 2. The Android I have no idea as I don’t know what goes into approval for that.

As well there will per issue pricing, monthly subscriptions and 6 month subscription options. I could have done a year subscription as well but I wanted to see how this new place is first.

I’m super excited!! It’s looking amazing so far!

this blog will also be a form of therapy for me. i, just like a lot of people, have demons that i need to exorcise from my life or just from my mind. those i will get into in the future, but for now, if by some twist of fate, you find yourself as a kindred spirit and want to follow me, be ready for a roller coaster ride.

anyway, thats it for now… i hope you are having an awesome day. touch back here from time to time and see if anything that i have posted might interest you!

thanks for stopping by!

Sometimes, all you really need is to save yourself. Your own life, your own heart, your own tears.

Fiction writers: You’re stuck in an elevator with an intriguing stranger. Write this scene.

The elevator  stopped.  It groaned and moaned before shuddering, the lights flickering once, twice, then a third time before they went out and plunged the space into darkness.  Emmanuelle’s knees buckled beneath her and she grabbed hold of the closest thing she could find.

It was a man’s arm and in the darkness, she felt him wrap his other arm around her waist to keep her upright.

“I’ve got you,” he said in a deep voice, his arms steadyng her as the elevator moaned again and the emergency light turned on.

Emmanuelle took a step away from him, as if repulsed but really, she was embarrassed.  She stood against the wall facing him and watched as he opened the panel marked ‘For Emergency Use Only’ and picked up the receiver.

As he talked to someone on the other end of the line, Emmanuelle couldn’t help but notice his accent.  British, it was, and not quite as posh as she’d often heard it spoken in the Jane Austen movies she loved to watch on Saturday nights alone with her cat and a tub of ice cream.

But then what did she know about posh anyway?  She was American and the only things she knew about England were limited to what BBC had to offer – that, and Jane Austen, of course.  She’d always wanted to visit England, but never had the luxury of time or money, her job at the elementary school as a speech therapy assistant taking much of her time.  Well, that and sitting in front of her television set watching romantic movies.

She stole a glance at him before turning her attention to the elevator panel in front of her.  He wore a dark gray jacket over a black cardigan, and beneath that, a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the neck.  With tight dark jeans that hugged his lean long legs and his leather boots, he cut an imposing figure opposite her petite frame.  In the low light of the elevator emergency bulb, she could see that his hair was cropped short and his skin was, even with the shadow of a day-old stubble, luminous.

She’d gotten a whiff of his scent when he had reached out to grab her just minutes earlier and he smelled, well, clean, as if he’d just taken a shower just minutes earlier.  There was no overpowering cologne that would have made her go into an embarrassing sneezing fit and for that she was grateful.

When Emmanuelle finally focused her attention to the elevator panel and not on the handsome stranger she happened to be sharing a stuck elevator with, she realized that they were stuck between two floors for two numbers were still lit up above them.  They were between the twelfth and fourteenth floors.  What ever happened to the thirteenth floor?  But then did she really want to know?

“Maybe we could pry the doors open,” she said.

The man hung up the phone and shook his head.  “That wouldn’t be a good idea,” he said.  “Anyway, they said it’s just a small malfunction in the computer.  Someone was playing with the doors earlier and they said it probably caused a short in the wiring.  Anyway, they should have the elevator up and running in no time so we might as well try to be comfortable.”

Emmanuelle pulled out her smart phone and began checking her email.  She knew what she was going to find in her email box – just the usual messages from people she didn’t know selling her things she didn’t want.  But it kept her hands busy and so she read the messages even though her mind wasn’t really processing them.  Just keeping myself busy, she thought to herself.

“I hope this doesn’t make you late for a meeting,” said the stranger in front of her with a smile.  He had deep blue eyes, an aquiline nose and thin lips, but when he smiled, as he did just at that moment, his smile was wide and brought a twinkle in his eyes.

Emmanuelle shrugged, almost jumping when her phone vibrated, indicating that a text had just come in.  She glanced at it and turned it off, putting it away.  “Not really.  I mean, it wasn’t that important,” she replied quickly.

The stranger cocked his head to one side, his expression turning quizzical.  “But a meeting nonetheless?  Quite late for a meeting though, if it were meant for business.”

“No, it’s not a business meeting,” Emmanuelle said, her face reddening.  She took a deep breath and exhaled.  “I was meeting an ex-boyfriend, actually.  He found me on Facebook and we started to chat, and then I agreed to meet him after he insisted – for old times sake, he said.”

“Here at the St. Moritz at ten o-clock at night?  I hope he at least offered you dinner?”  He was smiling as he said it, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

It took Emmanuelle a few moments to answer but she shook her head, her face reddening.  It’s called a booty call, actually, she wanted to tell him but instead, she refrained.  There was no point in divulging too much information to a stranger, no matter how handsome or charismatic he may appear to be.  As it was, she had already divulged a bit too much.  “He said his flight was delayed, and actually I was running late, too, but here I am.”

The stranger smiled.  “Yes, here you are.  Late for your date.”  He looked down at his hands before him, his long tapered fingers fiddling with his jacket.

“I really wouldn’t call it a date,” she added uncomfortably, shifting about as she stood in front of him.  “More like catching up with life.”

“He could have done that on Facebook,” the stranger mused, a playful expression on his face.  “That is, if catching up is the only thing he intended to do with you.  Do you like him still?”

With that question, Emmanuelle frowned.  She sighed.  Good question.  Did she still like him?  “Well, I loved him once, and he broke my heart.  He traded me for a fashion model, or a girl who looked like one.  He said that he liked girls who wore dresses up to here and high heels and all that.  You see, I’ve always been a tomboy.”

Emmanuelle kicked off her high heels as she spoke, lifting one foot so she could massage her toes.  She hated wearing high heels, she thought.

“Is that why you’re dressed exactly the way he liked his girls to dress then?”

Emmanuelle laughed nervously.  “Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated?  Who made you the chief of police in the land of stuck elevators?”  She pointed towards the emergency phone panel.  “Can you call the elevator guys again and find out how much longer we need to be here?”

The man lifted the receiver and handed it to her.  “Why don’t you do it?”

When Emmanuelle didn’t take it from his hand, the man returned the receiver back into its little panel and closed the door.

He slipped off his jacket, folding it neatly and draping it over his forearm.  “Would you like to sit down?  I could put this on the floor for you.”

“Are all you Englishmen always this polite?”

He smiled.  “I don’t know about all Englishmen, but this one was raised to be polite.  Besides, I know you want to sit down.  And even if you didn’t want to, I definitely am sitting down.”

With that, he lay his folded jacket on the floor by her, patting it.  He sat down in front of Emmanuelle, straightening his long legs as he leaned his torso against the wall.  It was a small elevator and his legs reached across the space between them.

That was the thing with New York, Emmanuelle thought.  Small elevators.  Even, elevators that you could only operate with a hand crank.

Yet even inside such a small elevator, he looked way too comfortable, Emmanuelle thought as she watched him lean his head back and close his eyes.  But she had to admit that he was right.  She did want to sit down.  Standing on those killer heels had been pure torture and really, who was she kidding?

Leaning her back against the wall, Emmanuel slid down towards the floor, keeping her hands along her backside to keep her dress against her skin so she wouldn’t flash him by accident.  The man’s eyes were shut so if she had managed to flash him, he was oblivious to it.

Or maybe he just didn’t care, she thought.

She straightened her legs, suddenly aware of how short her dress was.  She placed her purse over her lap and for a few moments they sat there, him with his eyes shut, propped up against the wall and her sitting stiffly across from him, her back straight and feeling a bit more uncomfortable than she wanted to admit.  Besides, her dress was way too tight and she could barely move.

“That’s it,” Emmanuelle breathed as she zipped her purse open and rummaged through its contents.  She pulled out a pair of jeans and stood up again.  She slipped them on, tugging them up to her hips and zipped the fly close.

The man kept his eyes shut.

“Don’t open your eyes but I need to change into something more comfortable,” Emmanuelle ordered as she pulled out a shirt from her purse and draped it on the railing. “I do have a can of Mace and I’m not afraid to use it.”

She pulled out the black can from her purse and placed it next to the shirt on the railing.  The print on the can had long vanished from the constant rubbing against other objects inside her purse but she knew what it was even though to someone else, it could easily be mistaken for hair spray.  Thank goodness Emmanuelle had no use for hair spray or she’d have maced herself a long time ago.

Emmanuelle tried to pull down the zipper of her dress, but even though she’d gotten it down past her shoulder by bending her elbow above her head behind her, she couldn’t reach it any more as soon as the zipper reached the area between her shoulder blades without hopping around, just as she had done when she was putting it on inside her apartment.  It was some sort of a contortionist’s trick really, but as long as he wasn’t watching, who was there to know?

“Do you need any help?”

He was standing behind her and Emmanuelle gasped.  She hadn’t heard him get up but then she’d been too caught up in her awkward zipper dance to notice anything.  She just really wanted to be out of this damn skimpy dress. It seemed to scream Booty Call and she couldn’t stand the idea that even he, a stranger, understood it.

Emmanuelle forced herself to stand still, her back to him.  “That would be nice,” she said but suddenly turned to face him, her eyes scanning his hands, “as long as you don’t have a knife or anything and have some twisted plan to kill me –”

He chuckled.  “You watch too many scary movies,” he said as Emmanuelle allowed him to turn her back around, and he pulled the zipper down slowly.  The sound it made filled the space between them and she swallowed nervously.  Who ever thought the sound of a zipper would sound so sensuous?

“I’ll turn around so you can change,” he said before she could ask him and as he did, she slipped off the dress and put on the t-shirt.  She folded the dress and stuffed it into her purse along with the shoes.

When he turned back around to face her, he smiled.  “You look much more comfortable in those,” he said as he sat back down on the floor in front of her.  Emmanuelle did the same and as they sat there with their legs straight in front of them, she swore they could have played a game of footsies if they wanted to.

She reached forward to rub her toes.  They were still sore from being crammed into the two hundred dollar shoes she’d just bought for the occasion.  She wondered if she could return them if she made sure there weren’t too many scuff marks at the bottom?

“May I?” He asked and though his request had taken her by surprise, Emmanuelle leaned back, allowing him to rub her feet.  “I just think it’s much more comfortable for you if I did it.  That is, if you don’t mind.”

Emmanuelle smiled.  “You like keeping your hands busy, don’t you?” His warm fingers kneaded her toes gently and she could tell that it was something he was quite used to doing.  She watched as he continued massaging her feet, his face bearing an expression that was neither bored nor too engrossed in what he was doing.  “I mean, as long as you don’t have a foot fetish and all.”

He chuckled and shook his head.  “No, I don’t have a foot fetish.  And yes, I do like to keep my hands busy.”

Emmanuelle sighed.  “Well, you’re doing a great job, and for someone I’ve just met for less than ten minutes, I’d like you to know that I normally don’t offer my feet to anyone for a foot rub like this.  I mean, I’ve never done this before.”

He shook his head.  “Neither have I.”

Emmanuelle allowed herself to sink back and enjoy whatever it was he was doing, his firm touch against the skin of her feet sending shivers up and down her spine, but something else.  She felt really good, like tub-of-ice cream good, not after-sex good.

She remembered an episode of The View where the actor, Matthew Mcconaughey admitted to liking giving foot massages and learning how from watching his parents do it.  So really, what was so wrong about receiving one from a stranger?  At least he wasn’t threatening to have sex with her or anything.

“What’s your name?” He asked a few minutes later as he glanced at his watch.  Sweat had begun to gather along his brow as the heat built up inside the cramped space between them.  “We might as well get to know each others’ names if we’re going to be spending any more time together like this.”

“My name’s Emmanuelle,” she replied, adding with a raised finger.  “Just Emmanuelle.  And what about you, inquisitive English stranger?  What’s your name?”

He smiled.  “I’m Richard,” he said, adding mischievously as he raised his own index finger. “Just Richard.”

Emmanuelle didn’t offer to shake his hand and neither did he and she was glad, for she’d rather he kept doing whatever it was he was doing, even though it seemed that the foot massage, just like all good things, was coming to an end.

For a few moments they remained silent, listening to the sound of people from the floor above them.  There seemed to be a party going on at the fourteenth floor, she thought.  Too bad the party didn’t extend to their little elevator space, she thought, although her toes were begging to disagree.

He stopped massaging her feet, returning it back onto the floor.  Emmanuelle dug her hands into her purse and handed him a packet of sterilizing hand wipes, which he accepted.

“So what else do you have in that carpet bag of yours, Mary Poppins?” He asked playfully as he wiped his hands clean, wiping each long finger with care.

Emmanuelle shrugged.  “Everything but the kitchen sink, as my mother would always say.”

“So,” he said a few minutes later, his expression turning serious.  “I noticed you were heading downstairs.  Did you meet him already?  This Facebook friend of yours?”

“I was supposed to meet him at the bar downstairs, but he texted me and asked me to meet him in his room instead.”

Richard didn’t say anything, but Emmanuelle saw his left eyebrow lift up.

“I’m embarrassed to say that I did go upstairs,” she said, biting her lip.  “But I could never step out of the elevator and it’s probably why it broke.  I kept pushing the button to keep the doors open, but I couldn’t get myself to take a step out of it.”

“So you made your way back down,” Richard said softly, the left side of his lip curling upwards.

“I’m not as brave as I thought I was, or daring for that matter,” Emmanuelle said.  “He always said I wasn’t.  He always said I was too timid to his taste.”

“If you ask me, I don’t think it’s a question of bravery, or daring.  Neither do I think that you’re timid,” Richard said carefully.  “But whether it’s even a question to be asked at all isn’t even the issue here, Emmanuelle.  Maybe your heart thought it was wrong, or maybe it did not want to be broken by the same man again?  Sometimes hearts are fragile like that.”

The way he said the last sentence made Emmanuelle stare at him for a few seconds, her breath at her throat.  She looked away, avoiding his gaze and busied herself with something inside her purse.

She pulled out a pair of red Toms shoes that she’d painted with a cherry blossom design and slipped them on.  She pulled herself up, gathered Richard’s jacket and handed it back to him.

“Thank you,” she said.

He got up, towering over her as he took his jacket.  “Did I say anything to upset you?”

Just then, the elevator moaned and groaned, the emergency light flickered before the bright lights went back on.  The elevator shuddered briefly and Richard brought a hand out to steady her as it began to move down, the numbers counting down on the panel in front of them.  Together they stood before it, as if suddenly struck mute.

Eight.  Seven.  Six.  Five.  Four.  Three.  Two.  One.

“Thank you,” Emmanuelle said again as the doors opened and she slipped out, walking as quickly as she could through the lobby, past the guests and the visitors and finally out onto the sidewalk where she took a big gulp of air, pushing it out through her mouth.

Manhattan at eleven at night was still as busy as ever for the night was still young.  A crisp breeze blew through her hair and she shut her eyes, feeling the coolness of it caress her.  It had been hot and stuffy inside that elevator, she thought, and the cool air felt good against her skin.

Emmanuelle needed to take a walk.  She needed to think.  And feel.  It had been so long since she’d felt that way, the way she did inside that elevator, and it scared her though it also excited her.  Definitely beat sitting at home with the cat and a tub of ice cream.

What Richard had said in the elevator had hit her hard for it was true.  Her heart was fragile.  It always had been.  What had she been thinking, assuming that she’d be daring enough to see the very same man who had hurt her years earlier?

“I’m sorry I said something to upset you back there.”

Emmanuelle turned to look at Richard, his jacket back on, now a bit wrinkled where she’d sat on it.

“What you said back there was the truth and there’s nothing to apologize for, Richard.  I needed hear it,” she said.  “Although what I really need now is some dinner, so I need to get going.”

She turned away and began walking.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” He asked.  “Or would you rather be alone?”

Emmanuelle stopped.  She heard his footsteps following behind her.  She turned to face him again, a cynical smile on her lips.  “You’d rather have some cheap hole-in-the-wall New York dinner than one from in there?”  She gestured towards the hotel behind him.  “You’d actually take a pass on that?”

Richard smiled.  “As a matter of fact, I would,” he replied.

Emmanuelle wanted to ask him but why?  but she stopped herself before the words could come out of her lips.  Instead, she raised her arm and hailed a cab just like a local would and as the cab screeched to a halt in front of her, Richard opened the door for her, watched her slip in before climbing in after her.

As he settled on the seat next to her, Emmanuelle gave the driver the address to the hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant where they could have the best noodles Manhattan had to offer.  She knew its owner well, having been a regular for years and had been quite upset when a cable food channel featured it as the best place for noodles in the whole of Manhattan but the owner always made time for her, even when his little hole-in-the-wall noodle shop was filled to the rafters even at this time of the night.

Richard watched her as she leaned back against the seat, a smile on his lips.  She could see his eyes twinkling as he looked at her, before turning his attention to the view out the window.

My heart may be fragile, she wanted to tell him as she caught him glancing at her again and together they chuckled.  But it’s not that fragile.

But the tender moment between them was lost too soon for suddenly Emmanuelle cursed and began rummaging through her purse again, panic on her face.

“Oh, shit,” she muttered under her breath and Richard sat upright, a concerned look on his face.  “My can of Mace.  I left it on the railing.”

“Do you think we should go back?”  He asked and for a moment Emmanuelle considered his suggestion but her stomach reminded her that there were other things more important than a misplaced can of Mace.

“Oh, never mind,” Emmanuelle muttered under breath as she leaned back against the seat and Richard followed suit.  “It’s probably too old to be effective anyway,” she said as the cab worked its way through the Manhattan traffic, losing itself amidst a sea of other yellow cabs just like it.

Inside the elevator though, it was a different story.

For someone did step inside it from the eighteenth floor wondering whatever happened to his booty call, that timid young woman he’d wooed, conquered and dropped so many years ago.  And feeling the need to fix an errant cowlick at the top of his head before presenting himself at the bar in search of a consolation prize, he picked up the black can on the railing, uncapped it, and pressed the nozzle.

Oops!  I was supposed to write a SCENE.  Not a damn story!  Oh well…Hope you enjoyed it at least.

The wait is long and not easy, but it’s important to focus on being happy with myself, and with time, I will find what I am looking for. I keep on believing he’s out there. If I close my eyes, believe and keep on dreaming. Dreams just don’t happen overnight. One day it will all make sense. And we’ll never let each other go.

Credit: ro-chelle.tumblr.com

Here’s the official video.

Well you only need the light when it’s burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low
Only hate the road when you’re missin’ home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go

Staring at the bottom of your glass
Hoping one day you’ll make a dream last
But dreams come slow and they go so fast

You see her when you close your eyes
Maybe one day you’ll understand why
Everything you touch surely dies

But you only need the light when it’s burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low
Only hate the road when you’re missin’ home
Only know you love her when you let her go

Staring at the ceiling in the dark
Same old empty feeling in your heart
‘Cause love comes slow and it goes so fast

Well you see her when you fall asleep
But never to touch and never to keep
‘Cause you loved her too much
And you dived too deep

Well you only need the light when it’s burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low
Only hate the road when you’re missin’ home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go
And you let her go
Well you let her go

‘Cause you only need the light when it’s burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low
Only hate the road when you’re missin’ home
Only know you love her when you let her go

‘Cause you only need the light when it’s burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low
Only hate the road when you’re missin’ home
Only know you love her when you let her go

And you let her go

A healthy relationship is one where two independent people just make a deal that they will help make the other person the best version of themselves.

I have twenty dollars to get me through until next Friday.  Tomorrow, I plan to visit with my friends from college.  Steve bought my ticket for the Royals game, so I plan to pay for parking.  That will leave me with $10, to buy snacks at the game or use next week on a movie matinée and food.  Come payday, on Friday, my road to financial recovery will be starting.  I’ll have a couple of paydays with $100 left after paying bills, then a few with $200, and in August, I’ll be averaging $300 of mad money from then, on.  Not much, really, but compared to the last 6 months, I’ll feel like I have a fortune.

I found out today, my transfer to Field Service and my new job won’t happen until sometime in August.  Three teams in my department are trying to work out an internal swap among themselves, which according to my boss won’t take place until then.  After I transfer, I’ll need to go through some refresher training, do an in-house service rotation, then spend a rotation on the road with a senior technician, to make sure I can still do the job.  Looks like it will be sometime in September or October before I really get to go back out on the road again.  (Patience….)

Once I’m back out in the field, working overtime and having the company pay for most of my expenses, my money problems should finally be over.

Don’t ever get divorced.  I wouldn’t recommend it….

Some people are bigger than others and some smaller than others.

I don’t think that anyone should have to worry about what they look like. The only thing I do believe though, is that people need to be healthy. And generally speaking, being “big” means you’re probably unhealthy. Of course, this is just the general idea. Being healthy and fit is all that matters, no matter what you look like as long as you like how you look and how you feel about yourself.

I have seen “big boned” people be healthy, my father is one of them. Of course, to be “big” you must’ve been unhealthy in some way at some point, be it you ate unhealthy foods or you ate too big of portions (unhealthy or healthy).

I have seen skinny people eat the most unhealthy things so frequently, and they take for granted their thin bodies. Being thin and healthy are two different things.

Again in any case, being healthy is all that matters. That means exercising and eating right (as well as drinking lots of water).

After doing that, if you are still tiny or big-ish (it still doesn’t matter what others think, of course) then that’s fine. You should be happy with yourself in the end.

Being naturally big or tiny or even being in the middle is beautiful. It doesn’t matter what stupid websites, advertisements and other medias say. I’m sick and tired of people thinking they need to be skinny to be pretty, it’s about being healthy. And I’m tired of “big” people thinking they need to retaliate and say they are pretty, because even though that is true and that it actually doesn’t matter what people think, you still need to be healthy. And being big usually does not mean you’re healthy. And same with being too thin (obviously depending on your genes, some people are just naturally tiny and others big and that’s all fine).

We have all seen this, right?!

My dogs do think I am pretty great. I mean no one else greats me at the door, tail wagging, no matter what time of day or night it is. Seriously, Ryan, you should do this too

You have to admit, it is not that hard to make a dog happy. Feed it. Love it. Snuggle it. Walk it. Play with it. Kids are lot tougher to satisfy. There is more on the line. You need to watch everything you say with the fear that the f-bomb you dropped in the kitchen when you spilled something doesn’t come back to haunt you during teacher conferences. (This is a real fear in my house.) You need to be a role model. You can’t just eat McDonald’s, avoid all veggies, and not workout. Well you can, but then don’t be surprised when your kid is over-weight and not active.

I try really hard to be a good role model for my kids. Some days it works. Some days, well, not so much.

I wish I was half as great as this Mother’s Day card says!

It just shows how my actions are interpreted by my boys. They see me out there doing some sort of physical activity every day and clearly it impacts them. I just hope that in the future, when they are older, they will also still be out there doing something active that they love too!

Are you being a good role model for your kids? If not, you better start now. They are watching you.

I may not have a lot of QOM’s on Strava. I may not be able to get my half marathon under 2:00 (yet!). I may not be the strongest person at CrossFit. (That actually made me LOL..since I am probably one of the weakest!)

BUT, in the eyes of boys, I am great (and fast on my bike) = Winning.

(ps. I am not a doctor.)

I have to confess, I was a bit worried about asking him to do this blog post. He has been through some very difficult times over the last several months (some of which he shares with you below), and I know sometimes it’s so hard to look on the “bright side” of things when things are tough.

But in true Layne Whitby style, he agreed to share some of his thoughts, and it brought tears to my eyes. He “gets” it – and knows that even though sometimes life doesn’t always go the way we want it to, there is still much to be grateful for.

He writes:

When I think of gratitude, I always remember the words of my late mother. As a kid, and also as an adult, whenever I would be feeling down about something she would start singing a line of a church hymn: “Count your blessings, name them one by one.”

So that is what I am going to do for this blog. I am going to going to count my blessings and name them one by one.

1. I am grateful for my loving wife. She is my best friend and surpasses all expectations on a daily basis. I have health problems that make it so she has to do even more than she should, and she does it all without complaint. Her service to our family is the definition of unconditional love.

2. I am grateful for my children. We have been blessed with three sons (11, 7 and 5). They make life fun and interesting and keep us really busy. They all play sports, so almost year-round we are running them to games and practices. As much as I loved playing sports, there is nothing more gratifying than watching your kids. It also gives me the opportunity to pass on what knowledge I have and teach them skills that I learned. But most of all they are also good students and citizens. As you can probably tell, I couldn’t be more proud!

3. I am grateful for my mother and father. My mother passed away three months ago, and it is still very hard to make it through the day without speaking to her. She was the rock of our family and really one of the two best people I have ever known (my wife being the other). Every day I am thankful for all that she taught me with her example of love and service. She was the most selfless person and was always serving others.

My father is the strongest person I have ever known. He served our country as a Marine scout sniper during the Vietnam War. His humility in regards to his service is astonishing. He has been contacted by authors wanting to write books about his experiences during the war, but he politely declines. He has no interest in gaining attention for what he did there. His example of hard work is something I don’t know anyone could rival. There were times when I was a child that he worked four jobs and we would only get to see him for about a half hour a day because he was so busy.

The most difficult part of having the parents I do is living up to their legacy. I have often told people that I am not my parents and know I can never live up to their greatness.

4. I am grateful to be alive. A little over two years ago, I was diagnosed with my second case of deep vein thrombosis (DVT). I had three veins that had clots, and those veins had already suffered severe damage from my first DVT seven years earlier. Because of all the damage to my veins I developed post thrombotic syndrome. The pain and swelling can be disabling.

But as difficult as it has made my life, I am still here. Many people who get clots die from a pulmonary embolism, which is what took my mother. Living in constant pain has given me a new perspective on life. Instead of wanting to jump higher and run faster, I get excited about walking without my cane. Instead of playing basketball with my kids, I sit and watch them play with my leg elevated. But the most important thing is that I am still here to be with them. And for that I am truly grateful.

5. I am grateful for my job. I work for the best people on earth (and I’m not just saying that because of this blog). They have been understanding and supportive of the limitations I have because of my health. I know without a doubt that if I was working somewhere else I would probably be on disability and taking from the system. But instead I am able to contribute and be productive doing what I can from where I can. That means so much to my family and I.

I also work with some of my best friends. Going to work is something I get excited about, and I love the atmosphere at our office. We really do feel like a big extended family.

I could go on for hours and hours about what I am thankful for. As difficult as my life has been, I know that there are others who have tougher trials. That doesn’t make things any easier but it does give me the perspective to do as my mother taught me to always count my many blessings and name them one by one.

Thank you, Layne! I admire you so much, especially as I have watched you and your family over the last several months deal with the trials and hardship that have come into your lives. Your faith and courage is inspirational to me, and I am grateful to know you!

Sometimes the presence is evident
Others shaded in the background
If you watch and listen closely
He stills makes a sound.

For more entries to the photo challenge please hit “in the background” in the poem above.

But that brings up an interesting point for discussion. Do you like having your kids out for the summer or not?  I kind of find it a hassle.

Cons of kids being home on summer break:

• Keeping them busy enough that they don’t burn my house down while we are at work.
• Keeping them from calling me every 5 minutes at work (or texting), “He hit me, blah, blah, blah”.  My standard answer to this is, “Is anyone bleeding? If not,  just go ahead and kill each other and get it over with!!” (yes, that is why I’ve been waiting for that Mother of the Year award for several years.  I just know it got lost in the mail. I’ve become my mother.  I think she said this to me several times too growing up.   Shit! ).

• There is not a daycare for a 14-year-old with ADHD.
• Figuring out what day camps to send them to. I don’t think they keep working parents in mind with some of these schedules.
• Having to beg my friends & neighbors to let them have a ride and sync up camps  that their kids are going to make it easier. Promising my first-born to them is really not a bargaining chip.
• Worrying that they forgot to lock the door when they are gone for any length of time.
• Brains turning to mush from too much Xbox.
• In prior years, I as able to pimp out the older one as a “free Mother’s helper”.  It was win/win for both parties.  He went for that 2 years in a row.  He’s not going for it this year, dammit.
• Making sure they have enough food in the house.  This is quite a challenge these days as these boys hit “the change”. Oh and the food must be ready to eat or something they don’t have to cook (see the first point I mentioned).
• Trying to keep from imagining what they are doing to each other while we are at work.  I had an older brother.  He tormented the hell out of me (as all usually do) complete with chasing me around the house with a can of Lysol and a match.  (see the first point I mentioned again).
• Shipping them off to grandparents and/or other relatives separately so they don’t drive the grandparents crazier.

Pro’s

• Not having to keep up with all of their school projects. The helicopter parent in my hubs  just won’t let them totally do this on their own. It’s a source of constant arguments at my house.  I’m not a good parent since I’m not on their ass, blah, blah, blah.   I didn’t have my parents up my ass for school stuff. I think they’ve got to figure this stuff out themselves, because I need them to move out of my house for college or at some point.
• Not having to ask if they have homework.  (See first Pro again).
• Not watching them stress over before mentioned projects, standardized tests and homework.
• Not having to make school lunches.  If I left it up to them to make their lunches during the school year, they’d have a bag of chips and MAYBE a Gatorade completed with a “Whut? I’m not that hungry ” <****cough***cough***bullshit****cough****cough> and then they come home STARVING and eat crap and drink out of the cartons and only leave one sip left.
• Low cost  lawn mowing  service with 14-year-old kid.
• Watching them relax for a couple of months.
• Vacation or vacation like activities (we may be doing a stay cation this year).
• Free adult time when we are lucky enough to have both at different grandparents at the same time.
• Family bonding (could sometimes be listed as a con when we get too much of that all at once).
• Popscicles (We make them a little healthier with juices and stuff), beach balls and swimming (as long as I don’t have to put a swim suit and parade my fat thighs and ass around the community pool).

Don’t get me wrong.  I absolutely love my kids.  It’s just getting harder to keep them busy and entertained as they get older, and smarter.   And I know I’ll miss them when they are not here anymore.

So now that you know how I feel about summer break,  what do you guys think?

Zahmet bhi imtahan tehri tu nawazish bhi  #umerfarooque