speechless

How come I never knew about this website? I'm obsessed. End of story.

I want these things for the days that I'm Daisy.

And I want these for when I'm Penny Lane.

photo essay of 2 extremely groovy people (except he's not allowed to say groovy)

...and it never got old.

his and hers

he's seen me wear both. yeeaahhhh.

if our kiddos had kiddos... labrador + boxer = boxador

A bat-girl, centerfielder, and America's past time.

...our view in 10 days. Blue Ridge, GA hiking trip.

1 out of 2 of us are alumni. The non-alumnus may or may not have made the alumnus go to a drag show two nights ago....?!?!?!?!

...ATX, SF, Nash, no matter where, I'll always be his girl.

See, I have a soft side.

pondering thoughts

Let's just face it, since it's dead week and I am a little burnt out, does it really surprise you that I've spent a lot of time on collegehumor.com and on my blogger dashboard? I've caught up on my blog reading and I feel that this was an act of responsibility rather than irresponsibility.  In my mind where I twist everything to make it seem better than it really is, I've convinced myself that I have read all of the blogs I follow this week, so that I won't distract myself next week when the exams actually start.  I have no excuse for collegehumor.com other than the fact that it's incredibly sarcastic and never fails to tickle me.  Who said studying couldn't be fun?

There has been a list pop up on several of the blogs I have been reading lately.  I have a feeling that I'm not the only college-blog-writer-girl that finds every excuse to procrastinate.  I'm not going to share the entire list... I'm sure it's floated your way via email or Google reader or something.  But it's a list made up of THOUGHTS TO PONDER: here are a few of my favs, which I find completely true or agreeable, and satisfies my wit and sarcastic charm.

• How in the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?
• MapQuest needs to start their directions at instruction #5. I might not be a genius, but I know how to get out of my own neighborhood.
• I completely disagree with the Kay Jewelers commercials. I bet on any given Friday or Saturday night, more kisses begin with Miller Lite than Kay.
• More often than not, when a person is telling a story all I can think about is I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that is not only better, but also more directly involves me.
• That's enough, Nickelback.
• Has anyone else noticed that 'lol' has gone from meaning "laugh out loud" to "I don't have anything else to say"
• Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron exam is absolutely petrifying.
• Whenever I'm facebook-stalking someone and find out their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning.  781 pictures? Don't mind if I do! 
• Nothing sucks more than that moment in an argument that you realize you're wrong.

These crack me up. There's a list of 50 of them, but these are undoubtedly the ones that I usually bring up in conversation with people.  Maybe I don't even bring them, I might just think them in my head with that sort of Cruela DeVil laugh that I do with that shit eating grin of mine.

PEACE&LOVE
-the already tired of studying baily

the one i shouldn't be writing right now

Only during "dead week" do I take a shower at 1:37am.  Only during the most upside down "dead week" in five years did I just take my break-from-studying-shower.  In a hotel bathroom.  Can someone PLEASE remind me to get some Q-Tips? And tweezers, the uni is back.

I feel like the hotel staff has adopted me, by the way.  Apparently the house-keeping staff has taken note that I do not like the un-Godly "things" they spread across the foot of my beds.  Yes, beds.  I may not have much to my name, but I DO have two double beds.  And two of those "things" folded up and put under my nightstand, next to the Bible - placed by the Gideons.  But seriously, instead of continuing to knock on my door at the crack of dawn in order to come in and do some sunshine cleaning, they call me at night and ask if I would like my room serviced.  My one cup coffee maker that I fought with every morning in the bathroom is neatly tucked away at the top of my 2x4 closet.  I've been a coffee drinker my whole life but I'd rather throw on a bra and take the elevator down to my continental breakfast to get a cup rather than brew my off-brand coffee from the toilet.  No thanks!

The shower was a good idea though.  I had been living at 1008 Oak for almost two years and apparently I became immune to the drizzle of the janked up shower I shared with another roomie.  Actual water pressure relaxes me so much better than the rinse that resembled a watering can.  The entire 10 minutes I spend in the shower I contemplate whether or not there really is a difference in the soap that bares the different titles - the real risk taker in me wants to try the facial soap on my body and the body soap on my face.  Oh yeah, remind me to write one of my infamous letters to J.W. Marriott and ask him if he really thinks that soap smells good or not.  I've stayed at his hotels all across the nation, all with different "star" ratings, and every bar of soap smells like a damn dumpster. Eew, not rubbing that thing on my face or bod, ok. Thank God for Wal-Mart, again.

When I'm not letting the titled soaps get the best of me during shower time, I enjoy the only few minutes I get away from the interstate noise.  WHY ARE THERE SO MANY PEOPLE ON THE ROAD RIGHT NOW? Go to bed. Or blog about useless stuff, whatever. Just get off the road already!

I wasn't sure if my late-night/early-morning shower was going to revive me or relax me.  The verdict so far... it kinda did both.  I was going to push on and finish this concepts of young children outline if it revived me and I was going to get some shut-eye so I can wake up in the morning and finish it if it relaxed me.  But really I'm just back at square one.  A cleaner version though. 

Here's a thought: the University of Alabama shouldn't call this 5-day stretch before exams "dead week."  It's totally more like "why the hell can't we take our tests this week and be done with it already." 

PEACE&LOVE
Bai Bai

I Google'd (it's what makes the my world go 'round) Dead Week... of course my beloved wikipedia provided some information for those of you unfamiliar to this week-long study hall. Click here.
Goodnight from the gypsy highway.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO A PIGGIE

Today is Mildred Jean Jones' 1st Birthday!

I love her more and more each day. I'm going to Birmingham to see the little pig!

Will blog later, and fill you in on the birthday princess! :)

decor decisions

I went to Target yesterday to use some of the giftcards that were given to me after the fire.  I have had my eye on the Liberty of London line that they recently started carrying (check it out).  I've wanted to get my hands on some of the stuff for quite some time now but refrained from blowing my money on things I didn't neccessarily need, but really really really wanted.  Now that I think about it, that was probably a sign of me growing up and being more responsible than I was before.  I remember that, before the fire, I tried to talk myself into purchasing some of the paisley and floral household things the line has such picture frames, cannisters, and jewelry boxes that didn't match my room at the time but were perfect for the way I wanted to decorate my room when I graduate and move somewhere new.  I'd always fight the urge by saying I already had enough clutter in that little bedroom and I would just have to wait on things like that instead of piling more "stuff" in there.  Funny how my life went from cluttered to having nothing. 

It's safe to say that I lost more than just one bedroom worth of stuff because I had piled that little bedroom full of so much random stuff that it almost affected my chlosterphobia.  Not that you're really given an option when you lose everything to a fire, but I've chosen to live more simply than I did before I lost it all.  But, I do miss having pictures on the wall and the things that added a little spunk and decoration to my space.  These curtains do their job and all, but I can't say they're easy on the eye.  

I've decided that my next bedroom, wherever that may be, is going to be a reflection of who I am.  I didn't really think that the bedroom decor I had at 1008 Oak Ave mirrored my personality whatsoever.  I  think I was in the Crimson Tide fan-mode when I purchased the Bed-In-A-Bag at T.J. Maxx.  It was an artificial silk, crimson-colored comforter with boring ivory sheets.  I spray painted my sister's old bedroom suite black (gotta love that Sherwin-Williams family discount) and added a few black throw pillows to accent the bed.  However, these pillows spent more time on the floor because only on the rarest of occasions did I make my bed.  I remember always thinking the room was too dark and hardly matched my personality.  In my opinion, I think this Liberty of London line at Target is pretty descriptive of my character.  My mom bought me a pajama set from L.O.L. at Target, as well as their paisley printed 'nightie'.  I'm in love! Anyways, back to the home decor department. I am still on the hunt for an affordable white coverlet and white shams, but besides those things it has been fairly easy finding accessories and whatnot to accent my room.  It's killing me that I can't put it all together and post pictures, but I don't have my own room yet and I don't have a camera that works either, so bear with me and use your imagination.

I want all white bedding. Before you say I am crazy to want white let me tell you that I am aware of my bad luck with white. I don't have a habbit of spilling on anything other than white.  I could wear all black for 364 days a year but the 1 day I wear white I will have traces of breakfast, lunch, and dinner before it's all said and done.  It's just one of those things. I share a pillow with my dog every night, but she likes to sleep under the covers like a human so anything she dirties up can quickly be hidden. Ha! I want my accent colors to be turquoise/teal and a deep purply-magenta color.  I bought two large teal pillows from Target yesterday that were $20 each.  I also bought two smaller throw pillows from the Liberty of London stuff that have a retro-floral spin on them, they were $16.99 each.  They're pretty groovy, not going to lie.  I wanted to buy one of the L.O.L. quilts, but decided a mustard yellow or magenta blanket would look better.  I don't want to over-do the floral stuff anyway so now I'm on the hunt for the perfect blanket as well as the affordable white coverlet and shams.

I also bought two L.O.L picture frames.  The fact that the line's decorated frames were not only way cuter than the boring everyday picture frame's were but also a couple bucks cheaper than they were put a smile on my face.  Within five minutes of getting "home" to the hotel I had Millie and I's Christmas picture in one of the $10 frames.  I might be a refuge, but I've got my cutesy frames on my hotel dresser; one of Chace and I and one of Millie and I.  It never hurts to be reminded of life's biggest blessings.

I got some of the Liberty of London stationary as well.  And a lime green and magenta floral file box.  I got a little crazy and figured "why not?" so I went ahead and picked up some extra files to put in there as well.  I won't be using this file box for organizing lesson plans, though.  Those lesson plans that I am slowly replacing will be kept in a fire safe filing cabinet.  I'm not putting myself through this torturous process ever again.  I thought about getting really buck wild and buying the planter.  I thought it'd be fun to be like Kate Hudson in 'How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days' and have a love fern.  Then I decided I better not.  I'll channel my inner Kate in another way rather than that movie's title.  That's one "how to" that I've become pretty expert on.

I've picked up some totally awesome and cool things to begin the redecorating of my space, I feel like.  I am so fortunate to have the means to do so because of the generosity of my family, friends, and even complete strangers (many people from my sister and brother-in-law's Sunday school class who I've never met have contributed to me during this time).  My situation isn't painful when I get to do the fun things like (re)-decorate.  It's kinda neat to witness the changes in myself, too.  Before the fire, I wanted this and that and would find reasons why I needed all sorts of stuff.  Now, I really only want the neccessary.  If I don't love it, I don't buy it.  If I have no use for it, then I figure I have no room for it either because I want simplicity and not clutter. 

I'm looking all over the internet for a spunky but comfy dog bed for Millie Jean.  Steinmart usually has nice ones, but someone needs to tell them that the animal print stuff is getting way old.  Don't get me wrong, I like the animal print stuff but you can only have so much zebra stripes and leopard print in your life before it just makes you nauseaus.  Millie had a zebra print one when she was a puppy, but for some reason she loved to test out my potty-training abilities on that thing.  No, I wouldn't waste my money on a white coverlet if she was still a testy little shit but, luckily, she's not anymore.  Nothing short of the most the most perfect dog in the world, actually.  I'd love to find something floral and bright colored to add some more character to my future room and she's just like me so she digs the bohemian inspired things in life too. 

I'm at a decorating crossroads right now - I can't decide what color and style of furniture I want for my new bedroom suite.  I don't plan on spray painting a whole set of furniture ever again so I want something timeless.  The only reason I went spray paint bizzurk on the old stuff was because it really did need a face-lift.  And in my family, spray paint fixes everything.  I swear, my mom can solve every problem you can think of with a can of spray paint and a tube of super glue.  I'm not kidding when I tell you this but when I broke one of my veneer teeth at a tailgate in Atlanta last September I called home in a sobbing panic.  The first thing my mom said was "Do NOT superglue that tooth back together."  I know I'm a lot like her, but I don't attempt to put everything back together with crazy glue.  It's humorous to me that this was her first thought, but it's even funnier because we all know she would in fact break out the super glue.  But back to my point, I need help finding the perfect bedroom suite... something traditional yet unique because I'm not too big a fan of the "modern" decor look.  

I've been stealing ideas from Etsy here lately.  Have I told you how obsessed with Etsy I am? I probably have.  I am just amazed that I can do all my thrift shopping and antique hunting with the click of a mouse.  I never purchase anything, though.  I'm kind of weird about online shopping.  I pretty much only buy things from Victoria's Secret online because I know how it fits and what size I wear.  As far as trinkets and vintage goldmine's, I prefer to physically shop hop.  Sometimes you hit jackpot and sometimes you don't, but an online purchase means you are stuck with it.  And before you know it you've jumped tracks from simplicity to cluttered.  Besides, I don't really have a shipping address to go along with a billing address so online shopping is pretty much oust.  Online browsing + Etsy = idea finding! I'm going to have my sister paint my desk with an antique-like flare.  Everything I own is going to be brand new, so I kinda appreciate the worn in look on things.  Plus, my sister's married to a man who thinks he's actually Mr. Sherwin-Williams so she gets her hands on some paint.  My mom is probably shaking her head and wondering why I don't just spray it down and call it a day.

I'm going to get back to Etsying around. It's sad that I just set an alarm to go off in 45 minutes that says "Do Your Homework!"  When I go to Etsy-world, I don't come up for air. Hmm... I'm planning ahead to avoid one of the disadvantages of being A.D.D. Another sign of my maturity? Ha

Peace&Love
BJJ

P.S. Chace is employed by Sherwin-Williams as well.  I can only imagine how happy my mother would be if she had two paint-expert son-in-laws.  Talk about hitting the jackpot... she'd have a can of spray paint permanently attached to her hands.

a little girl named carly

One of the blogs I follow, and religously read, had some very sad news the other day.

There was a post that beared news concerning the family of another blog I follow.  It didn't surprise me that I was informed on this particular blog about a completely different one.  Those of you that use this way of networking and sharing testimony and story also know that there is some very close-knit groups on the interwebs.  This community is sewn together by the special people who love and adore the exceptional lives of children and people with disabilities.  So, when I saw one blog informing me of the other, I knew exactly what family it regarded.   

Please pray for this family, who I have "come to know" over the past year.  I always look forward to reading posts from the blogger, a mother of three children.  She is 'mom' to a 22-year old girl, a 19-year old boy, and an 8-year old little girl.

I don't read her posts to know what life is like to mother a 22-year old girl and all the up's and down's that all that holds.  I can ask my own mother or simply observe the relations between my friends and their parents.  I read her blog because of the amazing story of the exceptional life of Carly,

 her  little girl who was born with Down syndrome.

I developed a love for Carly while I found myself being one of her biggest cheerleaders.  It's like when you read a book and become so involved in it's pages, you feel as if you are a character yourself.  The mother describes, with such honesty and genuinity, the life of parenting a little girl with Down syndrome. 

I relate to this strong woman on so many levels even though I am not a parent myself.  We both desire equality for all children, regardless of their development, and we both wish to  raise awareness of the abilities that Carly and children like her are capable of, rather than the disabilities that, too often, label children like her.  Carly's mother shares with readers the health issues that scare her and legislative concerns that parents like her have.  Her story is real, inspiring, and impacting.  Reading about Carly's life has truly touched me and made me all the more passionate about the plans I have for my life.  Sadly, the life and story of this mother is suffering an incredible loss.

On Friday, April 23, Carly passed away.

The author of the blog where I found out about this heart-wrenching loss said that she found out from the facebook status of Carly's mother, Joany.  There is no update on Joany's blog, so the cause of death is still unknown to me, but according to my other blogger-friend Joany's facebook status said Carly was very ill, turning blue, and 911 had been called.  Her facebook account was later updated saying that she had lost her sweet girl and that Carly was now an angel.

What an angel she was during her short time on earth, and how comforting it is to know that she is with the Lord and in the arms of the wonderful God whom created her.

The God that created her and gave her a special chromosomal makeup for a reason and to fulfill His will in her life, in Joany's life, and in all the lives that are already, as well as those that will be, affected by her precious life.

Reading her story over the past several months has not only confirmed my dream to work closely with children like Carly in my professional way, but it has also confirmed the burning passion that I have to be a loving mother to a child with special needs.  The loss of Carly has strongly affected my life, and I am only an on-looker of the things her mother decided to share with her readers.  I can't possibly imagine the magnified amount of pain that her family is going through right now. 

The joy I experience when working with children with Down syndrome is what would still have me to believe that Carly's family is a blessed group of people.  Whether I spend five minutes or an entire semester of classroom time with children like Carly, I am a changed and better person for it and I think it is safe to assume that Joany, her husband, and Carly's older siblings would know what I mean by  that.  In her latest post, (none have been written since Carly died) Carly's mother said something that I believe whole-heartedly, and because I believe it whole-heartedly, I know that God has a special purpose for giving me the passion to adopt a baby with Down syndrome one day.

"There is a reason that Carly was born with Down syndrome. I don't know that reason, I may never know the reason.  But that big guy upstairs knows. God has a plan. Whether it's to teach others the value of a particular person, make family more appreciative, or prove to families that they can, in fact, overcome various obstacles. I do not believe that having a child born with Down syndrome is a curse.  It is a blessing.  I've always known that."

I know that a lot of people do not understand this part of me.  I sometimes don't understand why some people do what they do either, so I know how it is to not comprehend people's  life choices.  Someone who has never led a lost soul to the Lord probably doesn't understand, in the slightest form of fashion, why someone would go to a third-world country to be a missionary.  I know why, because I understand what it is like to hear a calling from the Lord.  My heart is filled with love for children like Carly because I know that God made it that way for a purpose and He tugged on it for many years before I finally saw what He was doing in my life.  I firmly believe that my 'mission' is to not only work in the area of special education, but to love a special child with the special heart my God gave me. 

To teach children in the classroom, but to also teach children of my own. 

Teach them to love the Lord and guide them through the obstacles in life. 

People didn't understand this passion of mine before I shared the sad news of Carly, and now maybe even more don't get why I would want to willingly adopt a baby with Down syndrome when I could adopt a baby without Down syndrome, or even more why I would even want to adopt a baby one day when I can, to all my knowledge, have children of my own when the time is right.  But especially, why would I want to do that when the health issues surrounding a child with Down syndrome are personally realistic as I mourn the loss of a little girl I've read about for a few months?  I understand the confusion of those.

I guess it is because of the smile I see in the pictures of Carly and because I believe Joany was given this child because God knew she would inspire others to love all of his precious creations.

I know that people who are blessed with the exceptional lives of these children are strong enough to endure things that others cannot because of the presence of God in their life that comes in the form of a precious child who happens to have an extra chromosome.  Their abilities are touching and their lives are examples that God is great, children bring joy to the world, and that everything happens for a reason to carry out His powerful will.

Please pray for Joany and Paul and their two children, Ashleigh and Brad, as they mourn the loss of their precious Carly.  If you are interested in making a donation to purchase a watercolor painting for Carly's family, please let me know!

 These donations will help purchase a portrait of Carly

 painted by Michael Johnson, an inspiring artist who has Down syndrome.    

Read more about Carly George's life by visiting Joany's blog by clicking here.

To view her obituary click here.

To view Michael Johnson's art and webpage click here.

God Bless!

Peace&Love&ToGodBeTheGlory

Baily

another one about forrest and jenny

I suppose if you've read any of my earlier blog posts then you might recollect that I am intrigued by the movie Forrest Gump.  It's funny, because a lot of my life has played out in ways that I can relate to the movie.  The basics: Forrest and I were both students at the University of Alabama.  Forrest and I both love running, our Mama's, and Elvis.  And, Forrest and I have always had that one special person in our lives.  Jenny was a folk music loving 'hippie' and we both love Joan Baez.  In my younger years, my family called me "Bubba" when I had to rock the "lip bumper" for orthodontic reasons.  And when I'm mad, sometimes I wish I could fly free like a bird just like Jenny wished, or I throw rocks into thin air out of anger.  Like Forrest said though, "sometimes, I guess, there just aren't enough rocks."

I'm a human and because of that, I can't say that I have been strong and graceful throughout this entire fire situation.  I get frustrated, a lot!  I try to get caught up with schoolwork and have to relearn that my textbooks don't exist anymore and I get excited about wearing one of the new outfits my mother bought me right before the fire and have to remember that I don't have that wardrobe anymore.  I'll go to invite friends over and remember that there's not too much room in my temporary home.  Little things seem to have gotten the best of me lately.  I'm tired, fatigued, and not as easy to wake up in the mornings these days.  Not that I have ever been a morning person, but it seems to me that I dread having to start another day in this weird "funk" I have been living in.  Yesterday, I was not having one of my 'better days'.  That was until I decided to watch my favorite of all movies.  This required me to go to Target and use one of the gift cards that friends contributed to me, but it was well worth it.

So many things enlightened me, inspired me, and humored me - as that movie always does.  I have SEVERAL favorite scenes, but the one that always got to me most when I was a little girl is the same one that get to me most nowadays.  When Forrest returns from Vietnam and reconnects with Jenny, who was gypsying across the nation, from "Berkeley to D.C.", in an old Volkswagen van.  She asks him "why are you so good to me?" and he simply says "'cause you're my girl."  It's funny because I don't think of myself as a romantic and I definitely straddle both sides of the whole destiny and fate thing.  But even as a young girl, and especially now, I always have wanted someone who loves me unconditionally and doesn't care if my style is a little wacky. I want someone who doesn't want to intersect with my personal dreams, but rather support me and love me through my life journey, while having a journey of his own at the same time.  The kind of love that stands beside you and guides you, rather than hold you back or push you into a life you don't want.  Maybe we all have that person, or maybe there is just a lucky few that do, but I know I have him in my life.

I admire him because he has never tried to be my teacher, but he is the one person that would always be there for me when I need to throw rocks at my past and if I wanted to be made into a bird and fly away, he'd pray it with me.  I know I'll always be "his girl" and he knows I'll always have some crazy, far-out dream to chase.  But that's where it might differ, because he's the one person, other than my family, that believes in me and doesn't find even the craziest ideas of mine to be all that crazy.  He just knows that is who I am and how I'll always be, and as long as I keep my heart open and stay true to myself, he'll dream it with me.

And he knows that he is special to me just like Forrest knew he was special to Jenny.  They were one another's first friend, best friend, and soulmate.  I think of how it would've been if I hadn't had this 'first friend' of mine at Alabama stick with me through the good times and bad these five years.  It is probably safe to say that the whole course of my college history would have been shaped entirely different if we weren't able to withstand some of the adversity that came our way.  I can't help but admire the relationship that we have and we both know that it is far from ordinary.  Plus, our friends remind us of how not normal what we have is.  But like Ms. Gump said, "What's normal anways?"

So as I begin rebuilding my things, it is important that I only take with me the things that mean the most to me.  Obviously my family and friends are the essence of my life, and with them, I do not need the material things that I lost.  But, I'm a go-getter and I promised myself that I wouldn't let the fire hold me back from having the things that make me who I am.  The sleeve of leather and bangle bracelets, the journals I pour my heart into, the music that makes playlists of all different aspects of my life, and the clothes that describe me as a girl who's wild at heart.  All of those things will be rebuilt, and soon I'll be rockin' my style like a fire never happened.  But, I still won't be "Baily" without the friends that have truly and undoubtedly made me who I am. 

There's no need to hang on to the people in my past that don't support me in my new beginning.  Like Forrest was always told, "you've got to put the past behind you before you can move on," I firmly believe that to be true.  The people who try to hinder me from embracing my crazy life and the ones who haven't been here for me when I was throwing rocks during this difficult time.  I guess life has a funny way of showing us our purpose and the ones we value most.  I'm just glad I didn't keep my heart closed off any longer because losing my possessions in a fire doesn't compare to the damage I could do to my life by not letting someone in who has loved me longer and loved me deeper than anyone else.

It never fails that I learn something new about Forrest Gump every time I watch it.  I may have known the lines of the movie by heart (I don't kid!) but I didn't know too much about that heart of mine until now.  I don't know why he's so good to me, but I'll guess that it's because I will always be his girl.

Peace&Love

Bjj

"I'm not a smart man, but I know what love is."

HAPPY EARTHDAY!

There is enough for all.

The earth is a generous mother;

She will provide in plentiful abundance food for all her children

if they will cultivate her soil in justice and in peace.

-Bourke Coekran

HAPPY EARTHDAY! HUG A TREE! ☮

Peace&Love

Baily

random thoughts about my upside-down life

Even before the fire happened, I began feeling like I have changed in a lot of ways.  Now, since the fire, I have seen a completely different side of myself than before.  Maybe it is because I have been able to put things in better perspective due to all of my losses, or maybe it is because reality can sometimes be even scarier than a bad dream, in which case you can't snap out of it or wake up to smell the coffee... you just have to do it. 

I've been having my high's and low's ever since my parents left me Monday afternoon.  Sure, the fatigue and unknowing outcome of our situation resulted in some petty arguments between one another this past week at times, but I really am blessed to have such a wonderful connection with both my mother and my father.  The sister that I have is not like most sisters, whatsoever.  I really can't even express in words how much she has meant to me in all of my 22 years of life, but her actions this week speak louder than any words I could ever say.  She jumped out of bed when my mom called to tell her the house was on fire and was immediately at the scene.  Maybe the series of panic attacks I was facing that night as I watched the Tuscaloosa Fire Department swarm my house made me lose track of time, but I am still trying to figure out how she got out of bed, in the car, and to Tuscaloosa as fast as she did.  She has temporarily adopted Millie while I get everything with my living situation settled and she has been my constant rock throughout this whole ordeal.  I knew I was blessed before, but now I am overwhelmed with the fact.

My roommate and fellow fire-refugee, Jackie, is staying at the same place as I am.  We both stay busy, trekking back and forth to class, and not to mention the two or three trips to Wal-Mart we both do each day.  We've frequented Hooters for wings and Coors Lights, and yes - have become friends with the management.  Classy.  Aside from the usual stress of school (well for me it has been amplified due to the loss of textbooks and reference materials) Jackie and I have been able to find a little humor in our situation, which is probably a big help to the positive attitude I strive for each morning.  Yesterday as I was on my way back from running an errand I received a text message from her saying, "Bring me some tweezers down to my room."  I scanned my bathroom for a mental note of where I last saw my tweezers and texted her back that I would bring them to her.  Then, I just laughed out loud as I was sitting at a traffic light.  The mental note I had made of my bathroom was the bathroom at 1008 Oak Avenue.  I don't even have tweezers, who am I kidding?  I texted her back, "Nevermind, scratch that. Put it on the Wal-Mart list."

Our friends Whitney and Emily came to visit us last night.  Emily brought her little Yorkshire terrier over (hidden in a tote bag) and it made me miss Millie.  I hate not being with her.  Ever since I brought her home from the Cracker Barrel in Rainbow City, Alabama on June 18th of last year, it has been hard to remember what life was like without her.  Nothing is better than coming home from a long day of classes and seeing her get so excited to have me home.  I went the longest without her when she stayed in Orlando with my parents after I got back from Pasadena in January.  She stayed at Granna and Big Butch's house to recover from her "girl surgery" she had.  It was a long month, having to come home and see her crate empty and not having my best bud around.  Then it was even hard, but at least I had a book shelf full of familiar books, thousands of songs to perk me up on my iTunes, and a house full of friends and their dogs to keep my mind off of her absence.  Now, it's the pictures of her that I uploaded to facebook before the fire that remind me of her presence and bountiful love.  Oh yeah, and the wonderful sister/Millie's legal guardian of mine is willing to meet me halfway to see the little pig tomorrow.  But, as cozy as my two double beds and window-unit AC are, I think I'm going to go the extra distance tomorrow after class so that I can relax in a more "homey" place for a little while and visit my favorite girls.  And, maybe another contributing factor is Thirsty Thursday at the Birmingham Baron's baseball game. 

Pray for me these next couple of weeks because my frustration with school is, like I said, a little bit more amplified now that most of my work, books, notes, etc. are all part of a fire scene.  I have great teachers and the university, in general, has been good to us.  The dean of students called Jackie on our behalf and asked if we needed clothes, student loans, supplies, or anything else.  Maybe that is expected in a case like this, but I am fortunate for the good people that work together to make the Tuscaloosa and UA communities such a wonderful place to be a part of.  It really is a great place, and even though I sometimes snarl or am, at times, quick to blame the school or this town for my bad attitude, I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for the experiences that have taken place here.  I've come a long way in these 5 years and I love each person, place, and thing that have contributed to making me, me!

Before I get back to my studies, let me just point out a few of the perks of living like refuge! There is good to every bad.... that's one of the things I have discovered through all of this.

• free continental breakfast
• free coffee, 24/7
• sometimes the free coffee has a cookie jar beside it
• interstate noise = good sleep.  frat-daddy's keg parties on Oak Ave = not good sleep.
• the ice machine here actually works
• friends w/ Hooters management = comp'ed meals and bar tabs
• no laundry, everything I wear is brand new
• no fighting over the AC/Heater with 5 very different temperatured girls
• housekeeping
• do not disturb door hangers
• workout facility
• fully loaded snack machine
• actual water pressure in the shower... it's amazing how much it affects your hair when you actually get all the shampoo and conditioner out of it
• Distance to Wal-Mart = 1 mile. Before? 4 miles.

Well, I could probably ramble forever... some things never change.  But, seriously, I have many reasons to smile each day and I find ways to laugh so that I can keep this positive attitude in check.  I'm a typical girl still... with hormones, and stresses, and episodes of self-pity but this new side of myself that I have seen show has been more womanly than childish.  Figures, right? I'm four months shy of being 23 years old and a college graduate, so I ought to be more mature than I was. 

I have to be honest though... the fact that before the fire my biggest worry was that I didn't have a clue where I was going to go after graduation in August.  Now, I not only have an agenda for the near future in my life, but I don't even know where I'm going to live come next week when my stay at the hotel expires.  All I know is, wherever I go next week or in four months from now.. I won't be packing much, I'll always remember it as the beginning of my new journey, and I'll go into it full-force because I won't let this fire stop me or slow me down in life. 

Remember my blog post about "all life is is 3 or 4 days that shape the rest of it?"  Well, April 13th is just going to be one of those days that will shape the rest of my life from here on out.  I'm just glad I have so clearly seen the positives of one of my life's negatives, because I have a feeling my life will be way happier if I let it shape me in a positive way, don't you agree? So, here here!

Peace&Love
Bjj

fire faith family friends

You yourself have done this plenty of times,

 spoken words that clarify, encouraged those who were about to quit.

Your words have put stumbling people on their feet,

put fresh hope in people about to collapse.

Job 4:3-4 (MSG)

The way I remember last Tuesday night was just like any other random night of the week.  During the day I had done some laundry, worked on school work, gone to class, and met with my group for our assignment.  I took a late evening shower, ate dinner, and waited to hear back from one of my best friends to decide whether or not we were going to grab a cocktail somewhere or not.  By the time 10pm approached, I figured she hadn't finished her work, so I planned for a relaxing evening watching a movie on the couch with one of my roommates.  My exhaustion was far greater than it should have been on a Tuesday, anyways, so I was relieved to snuggle up in the living room with my dog, Millie, and rest up for a long week that was supposed to be ahead of me.  Little did I know  then, but the exhaustion I felt was extremely mild in comparison to the fatigue I'm experiencing today.

Right as Elena, Whitney, and I were getting in to the movie we were watching, I smelled the very distinct smell of electricity burning.  I jumped off the couch and ran in to our kitchen.  Even though we aren't the  little Martha Stewart types, we are usually pretty responsible girls.  So it didn't surprise me that there wasn't anything burning in the kitchen.  But as I frantically tried to figure out where the burning was coming from, I saw a little trickle of smoke creep out from underneath my bedroom door.  As I opened the door to my room, I was engulfed in a cloud of dark grey smoke that was instantly joined with my bedroom window on the opposite side of the room shattering.  I looked over to the wall behind my bed and all I saw was flames.  Big flames.  The kind of flames that I knew better than to try to put out. 

Get everyone out. Where's Millie? Get Jackie down from upstairs before this gets out of control.  Scream. Call 911.  Oh my God, we don't even have a fire estinguisher.  Get everyone out! Get the dogs! Call 911!

All of those thoughts raced through my mind.  Elena jumped up immediately and ran to take a look at the flames blazing across my walls.  She screamed at Jackie to get downstairs. She thought smartly and said we needed to shut the door to contain the fire.  Whitney called the fire department, I called, Jackie called.  Everyone was frantically running around.  Jackie and I's dogs were running everywhere as Elena and I ran upstairs to get her dog from being closed up in her room.  The smoke was upstairs already and was making it hard to see as we ran back down the stairs and screaming for everyone to help us.  Millie ran inside and yelped at my door, using her Boxer instinct and pawing at my door.  She saw me come from upstairs and followed me outside as I screamed for our neighbors to help. 

Out of nowhere, a boy around the same age as us, ran inside and making sure everyone was out... he looked at me very seriously and asked where our estinguisher was.  I told him we didn't have one and he ran out and across the street to the beer store, JD's Food Mart, and got theirs.  He ran back inside as I begged him to get out. Our house is old, it could collapse on him.  If he opens that bedroom door, the whole house is going to burn down.  More so, If he opens that door he could pass out and be seriously trapped.  WHERE THE HECK IS THE FIRE TRUCK? IT'S BEEN 10 MINUTES SINCE WE CALLED. WHY CAN'T I EVEN HEAR THEM COMING? WHERE ARE THE SIRENS?

I called my dad's cell phone and woke him and my mom up.  All I could say - I mean, scream - was "Everything's going to be gone! I saw the flames! They're all over my room!"  He tried to calm me down and my mother dropped to her knees in prayer.  I have never felt such panic and terror in my life.  The fire rescue unit arrived approximately 15 minutes after I called the dispatcher.  They walked (not ran) inside my house and, by "protocol", checked behind every door to make sure no humans or animals were left inside the house.  I kept screaming at them to get the hoses, I begged them to hurry and get into my room, I swore to them I got everyone out of the house.  An emergency medical technician walked over to me and practiced breathing rhythms with me.  "Baily" came back when I threw my hands in the air and said, "don't waste your time... I'm one big mess of anxiety attacks, I do this all the time."  He laughed at me.

About 15 minutes after they finally went in and around the house with their fire hoses, a nice man in a fire-fighter's suit came over to me and informed me that they put the flames out.  The man that followed him asked me who's room was the far rear one.  I couldn't help but notice the clear regret in his voice.  He told me that everything was pretty much destroyed but that I was lucky to get everyone out.  He patted Elena and I on the back for "keeping the fire contained in the one bedroom by shutting the door behind us" and then he told us that we "probably saved the whole house from imploding."  My things! Everything is gone. Everything... what am I going to do?  I couldn't put my mind around it.  I still can't.

For He will deliver the needy who cry out, the afflicted who have no one to help.

Psalm 72:12  

As things began to die down, one of the fire rescuers went inside the house to look for my jewelry case and anything else that I could think of that might be of valuable and/or salvagable.  Luckily, he found the few things I told him but I wanted to see it all for myself.  I was able to be escorted into my room and as I saw the view from the other side of all the trucks that lined our street that night, I also saw how many people had come to see what was going on.  It was surreal, and I later found out that the main road (Paul Bryant Drive)  which intersects with our little side street (Oak Avenue) had been blocked off until about 1:30AM or so.  As I walked inside I saw grey smoke covering everything like a blanket and then I saw the entrance to my bedroom.  It was charred, black.  I walked in and saw everything that I expected to see.  When the fire-fighters told me to expect the worst, I did.  I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

the fire started on the wall behind my bed

the window that shattered

my closet; clothes were burnt and/or melted together by plastic hangers

Before Tuesday night, I had never really stepped back and looked at everything I owned.  I thought I had.  I mean, I have always prided myself on the fact that I stay socially aware.  The day before the fire, I wrote a blog about homelessness and how to help the needy.  The day of the fire, I wrote a blog about my faith and how I am one of those people who find strength during difficult times.  Just hours before everything I possessed went up in flames, I wrote about my Lord and Savior and how he provides for me, shelters me, and comforts me.  Yet, I wrote about how He tests me and puts me through trial after trial in order to strengthen my faith and remind me that I am nothing unless I cling to his Righteousness.  In that same blog I wondered how people saw miraculous things as coincidence rather than the divine power of God.  Now, I question  the non-believer's philosophy beyond just wonder.  I simply cannot understand their thoughts on this sort of thing.  What scientific equation, I want to ask them, can explain why I wrote that blog just a few short hours before this happened.  Why had I not locked Millie in her crate while I enjoyed a cocktail with my friend Kayley? Why was I not asleep in that bed where the fire started if I was so tired from my long day? The only answer I can think of is this:  God didn't plan for me to be there and He spared me from danger because He has something very special planned for me in life.  His master plan had me being in the living room and not in the bed, and He had everything planned accordingly so that Kayley wouldn't  finish her schoolwork in time to go out for a drink with me.  It happened the way it was supposed to, just like everything else does.

Even though I think of myself to be socially aware and an advocate for social change, I apparently was not as aware of my personal things.  I am grateful for things, but I am guilty of stumbling into selfish ways at times.  I wouldn't say that I am a snob or a materialistic girl in the ways that usually describe this type of girl - you know, the girls that won't get dirty, that carry their pooch named "Chloe" around in a canine purse or whatever you call those things, and drive around in their $80,000 car, and who pay $300 for a haircut and blonde highlights.   I feel like I am materialistic in the way that I am fortunate to have nice things because of parents who have willingly made sacrifices so that  my sister and I can have nice things which are both high quality and of high value.  I remember to thank them, and to thank God for all of these materialistic blessings that I have been given in my lifetime.  Because I know all of these nice things that I possess are truly blessings they have always carried with them much sentimental value to me.  I'm the type of girl who would rather have a cluttered space than to have to get rid of something that meant a lot to me.  It's doubtful that I would ever be one of the extreme "hoarder" types that we see on an episode of 20/20 or 60 Minutes every now and then, but I tend to hang on to stuff.  In the 5 years that I have lived away from my parent's home and on my own, I have accumulated many, many blessings.  So when I saw them look more like chopped fire wood than they did pieces of a wardrobe, or designer handbags, or books and journals, I realized so much.

I did everything I could to hold back the tears I so badly wanted to cry out.  I saw the empty space that Millie's crate occupied, I saw feathers flying all across the room from the pillow I laid my head on every night, and I saw the clothes that kept me covered and 'in style' melted in a big blob in my closet.  I took it all in - well, I tried to take it all in but one week later it is still not all taken in yet - and I lifted up His name in praise that everyone was safe and unharmed.  The biggest blessing of all, and the only thing that has mattered to me since that night, was that I'd get to see the sun come up tomorrow.  I knew that "things" are just that, they are "things" and as I turned to walk out of the room and towards a new beginning, I had an overwhelming sense of calmness, strength, and humbleness.  

I could feel God's hands comforting me as I told myself this, "Everything is gone, and that's ok.  Everything in that room is a worldly thing.  When I die and have a new beginning in heaven, I will not be able to take those things with me.  I will start a new beginning without those things, and God will provide me with the things I need.  If I trust in Him during this hard time, He will reward me with the things I want."

Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow...

Each day has enough trouble of it's own.

Matthew 6:34

As the week unfolded, I discovered a multitude of things about myself.  I am more patient than I have given myself credit for and I am just as much affected by the small things in life as I am the much bigger things.  I was reassured through all of this that I have a family that loves me and supports me and that go the extra mile to give me more than I deserve.  I discovered who my true friends are, and I learned a lot about some people who showed a different side of themselves during my tragic week.  Some learnings were good things, and others were not as good.  I can say one thing for sure, though, and that is that God is great, life is good, and love is uncondiftional.

I still sometimes find myself upset about the material things.  Really though, the smaller material things.  There's a bracelet my grandmother gave me that was lost in the damage, the words that journaled my life journey over the years are burnt and/or smeared by the water from the fire hoses, and the music that described the little bohemian fireball that I am blew up into stardust with my laptop.  The Bible my parents gave me in the days following my dad's diagnosis in 1999 has suffered water damage, some of the vinyl records I adore were set ablaze, and there's nothing to show for the hours of vintage shopping and yard-sale hopping that I do for personal pleasure.  Two thickly filled manilla folders that kept my two semester's worth of lesson plans are ashes and dust, and both my school books and personal reading novels are charbroiled nothings now.  Despite the things that can consume me with sadness or angst, there are far more things to be thankful for.  Like my life, and Millie's, and the few things that can possibly be restored.

Life is more than food; and the body more than  clothes.

Luke 12:23

The most comforting thing in all of life is that God will provide for us if we trust in Him.  I learned it when I dealt with my dad's diagnosis, I learned it when I've dealt with phases of personal tribulations, and I learned it this week.  The best things in life are those that money cannot buy.  The family, the friends, the prayers, and the smiles that enrich our lives and help us to keep going.  I know that I have new clothes in my (temporary) closet and a computer in front of me because of the prayers offered by so many people.  I'm fortunate to have good insurance that will help me rebuild my possessions and loving parents that will help me financially in the meantime.  But even more, I have family, friends, and even strangers who have offered contributions and refused to let me decline their generosity.  I am humbled by so many people that have helped in so many different ways throughout the course of this week.  I am blessed beyond comprehension, but my post-disaster resolution is to pay more attention to the goodness that is behind all the kind offerings.  The love and support of these many people is what really matters and what life is all about.  I have no words to express my gratitude for the people that have shown their true devotion to our friendship.  Although the absence of some people who I thought were some of my best friends is hard to swallow, I do not dwell on things when I have enormous amounts of love and support from so many other incredibly, amazing people.

So as I begin to build back my life, I am aware of the things that matter, the things that don't, and the things that should and shouldn't.  It might be a long process, but that is not for me to decide.  I am merely a part of His master plan and my life, it goes on for a purpose.  My job is to be a disciple, to share my testimony, and to show the world that disaster, no matter how big or how small, can be overcome with trust in the Lord.

I am stronger because of faith, and I know He will not give me any more than I can handle.  That right there is why I am able to start over, press on, and eagerly jump into this new beginning.

Peace&Love&Thanksgiving

Bjj

miraculous

mir*a*cle [mir-uh-kuhl]

-noun

1. an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause.

2. such an effect or event manifesting or considered as a work of God.

3. a wonder; marvel

4. a wonderful or surpassing example of some quality

I often wonder about people who do not believe in a god.  Not neccesarily my God, but the people who do not believe in anything supernatural.  I believe in my God not because my parents "made me" or because He seems like the most trendy choice. 

I believe he is not only my God, but the God, and it is because I have witnessed

miracles.

The people who wake up each morning to a sun shining and birds chirping, but do not believe even these things are the works of God, are the people who seem to just amaze me.  Or the people who can't see God in the smiles of children.  The ones that lived the same summer nights as I did, feet dangling from an old wooden dock while we counted the stars that danced on the water.  Did these people really not wonder how those stars got there?  Or even

more, did they not wonder why the one star that shined the brightest is also the one that just so happened to be pointing exactly North?  Scientific phenomenon or God's direction?

I often think about these people and I try to understand their thoughts.

I have a terrible need for seeing the world through different perspectives.  I do not believe that anyone is neccesarily 'wrong' for thinking individually. 

One thing I am most known for amongst my peers is my attention to individuality and my desire to embrace all things unique.  I understand entirely that my upbringing and personal experiences are what shape my core values, my religous beliefs, and my degree of morality. 

Even though my background paints pictures of Sunday school lessons, mission trips, and big tent revivals, I deal with doubt and conflicting theories.  But, because of

miracles

I do not dwell on doubt because faith, strengthened by these extraordinary events in my life, surpasses all normal understanding.

I guess the trouble I have when it comes to understanding the thoughts of a non-believer is due in large part to the miracles that have shaped my life incredibly.

The easiest thing I could say is,

 'I wish all people could witness the miracles that I have witnessed,'

but that is not neccesarily true.

So, actually, what I will say is,

'I wish all people could experience the same overwhelming amount of glory that I have experienced by witnessing miracles.'

Instead, I want to be a living testimony that miracles do happen.

That miracles are not just awe, and wonder, and marvel, but they are

made by the hand of God. 

My God. Our God.

So here is my story......

If someone asked me what one, single experience has shaped my life more than anything else, I would not hesitate in my answer.  Above all else, my father's cancer diagnosis changed the course of my life more than anything else ever has.

Not only did I learn the value of family as a young 11-year old, but I learned the only way to be strong enough for life's biggest tests is to find strength in faith.

 I gave my life over to God.

Sometimes I look back at the course of those first eight weeks or so after my parents explained to me what stage IV non-Hodgkin's lymphoma was and what it meant for my family.  I know I was only 11 years old at the time, with hardly any clue as to what was about to play out in my life, but I remember almost feeling ashamed for not having a stronger faith before his diagnosis as I tried to fight off the guilt that spun around in my head.

I felt like I was bargaining with God.

I'll be a Christian; You heal my dad.  I'll be a better person; You give my dad better health.

I'll cleanse myself of my old life in that haptismal pool if you cleanse my dad's body of the cancerous cells that threaten the number of days I have with him.

Now, 11 years later, I have a better understanding of my development as a human.  Not because I am earning a bachelor's degree in the field of human development, but because I know that my thoughts and feelings I had then were only typical of a confused pre-teen.

I wasn't bargaining with God.

I wasn't trying to cut a deal with Him.

But, the funny thing is, we really did make a deal.  I made a promise, He made a promise.

In the years that stretch between today and the day that I let God take total control of my life, I saw God keep up his end of the deal more than once.

I restored my faith, He showed my family to an opportunity for my Dad to go on a clinical trial.  I went on mission trips, He provided my family with the time and money to travel to Houston, Texas where the best oncologists in the world treated my Dad at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center.  My family prayed together and attended events at First Baptist Oviedo every time the doors were open, and He made dream vacations to places like Whistler, Canada and Hawaii and Lake Tahoe a reality.

I gave my life to Him, He gave my daddy's life to me.

No one will ever be able to convince me that there is evidence that my father defied normal survival rates because of any factors other than his faith in the Lord.

Yes, my dad was otherwise healthy before he was diagnosed.

Yes, my dad was a young patient, considering it was Stage IV. He was 42.

Yes, my dad sought treatment at, arguably, the no. 1 cancer center in the world.

Yes, he has always been a good person, a hard working businessman, and a loving father.

But we all know too many "good" and "loving" and "hard-working" people that have

been taken from us too soon.

Children are diagnosed and unable to be treated.

Cancers spread like wildfire. Infections complicate even the "curable" cases.

Different things happen for all sorts of different reasons. But to keep it simple,

everything does, in fact, have a reason for happening.

My dad was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma so that my sister and I would find a relationship with the Lord.  Even more, so that He could perform a miracle in the lives of my family and so His work could be used as a testimony to change the lives of even more.

So as I live my life from day to day I use my many blessings as an example of the wonder and work that God has done in my life.

From the sun shining and birds singing to the stars that light up the Southern sky, I am aware of His existence.  Those are the things that others might not appreciate as a reason to believe, but they strengthen my faith and allow perserverance to continue witnessing to others.  When a conversation about my dad, or my life in general, opens a window of opportunity to share my testimony, I do. 

I'm not embarassed about being God-fearing.

I don't quiver if someone rejects the things I believe in.

I don't forget that we are all entitled to our own opinion and I don't shun the people who think individually or feel different about things than me.

I understand that not every life is shaped by the miracle of watching a man defeat the odds.

But my life is.

Even though I first felt like his diagnosis was the worst thing that could ever happen to someone, I have eventually come to understand that the enormous blessings I have received are a result of how we handled the arrival of those cancerous cells in our lives.

I am an example of God's promise.

I gave him all control and he comforted me, strengthened me, sheltered me, and provided for me.  He's given me more than I deserve, and the most important thing of all is he gave all of us a promise of eternal life if we trust in him.

Maybe it is the beautiful weather, the shooting star I saw when I was walking my dog last night, or the bloom of a wildflower in an unexpectant place, that has

reminded me to count my blessings.  Maybe it's the fact that all of these things are gifts from God and too often are they forgotten in the hustle of everyday life.

I went to a movie on Sunday night to see what I thought was going to be another sappy summer romance flick based on the book I started reading while on Spring break. 

Next time my mother tells me "Bai, you might have a hard time with that book" I will remember to have her tell me (specifically) "why" I might

be bothered by the contents of the pages.

Needless to say, the movie/book was deeper than any summer fling in that

a teenage girl cares for her dying father in the last few weeks of his life.

All I could think about as my cheeks provided the backdrop for a constant flow

of tears was my own situation.

I never had to be my dad's caretaker as his days fell limited.

I could have had to, but that wasn't in God's master plan.  My story told a different one.

As I layed down to go to sleep Sunday night, I prayed a different prayer than I usually tend to pray.  Instead of asking for something, I thanked Him for all the things He has already given me when I asked of them.

Mostly, for my dad's continued health and for a reason to believe in

miracles.

Maybe the reason some people do not believe in anything supernatural is because they haven't witnessed what I have.

Maybe their life didn't turn upside down as their precious loved one muttered "I have cancer" and therefore their life didn't turn rightside up the second they stepped foot on the Lord's solid ground.

I don't know if the inability to believe in God comes from science or ideology or fear of the unknown.  I just have a hard time looking back on the past 11 years of my life, with all it's ups and downs, and thinking of what it would be like if I had not been walking alongside God through it all.

I have a hard time believing that all the different flowers, the shorelines of the beaches, and the breath-taking views of landscape from the top of a mountain peak, are all because of some scientific phenomenon or coincidence.

My need to embrace my uniqueness and my individuality is at it's greatest when I

attend to what makes me who I am more than anything else.

My faith; my belief.

My God.

pEaCe&LoVe&fAiTh

Bjj