Life, unexpected.

There's no quick way to explain everything that has been going on here lately. Actually, I've given an attempt at an "update" post already but I ended up rambling, crying, and becoming so tired I couldn't even read it to see if it made enough sense to publish.  Nonetheless, it was way too long and it was my vent session that had all the little tiny details about everything.  I remember typing pretty fiercely, and that always means I'm really getting it off my chest.  As fast as my mind races... and as many places it goes in one deep thought process... my hands cannot keep up with what I have to say. 

Anyway, I cannot make total sense of everything anyway so I'm just going to catch things up on what has happened.  My previous posts mentioned I had been out of town a lot in the month of July.  Every weekend, actually.  So on top of just being overwhelmed with life, I was also in vacation, weekend getaway, and family obligation mode.  As we all should be aware, there are lots of things that come before blogging.

On top of a busy and exhausting month, the life Baily does like it always does and threw me a curveball.  Then another.  And another.  And then another.  Life unexpected happened and big lessons were put before me to learn. 

I have made myself proud this time around, though.  I have not sunk into a hiding place where I just prevent myself from experiencing any happiness and joy for the sake of avoiding another something to jump up and bite me in the you know what.  I have applied the hard blows I took in my past, I remembered the pain of my past experiences with the life unexpected, but this time I did not allow myself to be engulfed by it. 

My HS soccer coach committed suicide, my elderly Uncle Fred passed away at the same time my Papaw was in the hospital with heartrate/blood-pressure problems and having a Pacemaker put in, and a dear and special and one-of-a-kind friend died in his sleep at the age of 25. 

Do you want to know what will make a person go crazy?  Asking why! Why no one knew Coach Barnett was at a level of such deep depression.  Hell, especially me.  I am full of memories of his good advice and lessons in life that only a "coach" can brings to the life of a young person, especially when they share a special bond like he and I did.  I would have had no shame in telling him my story and sharing my past experiences with depression and darkness and been a "coach" to him.  But I never got the chance.  I cannot dwell on why. 

Why was it easier to handle the death of my great-uncle than any of the others?  Because in his last days he told his family of his love for them and was at peace in knowing the misery would be over and a perfect eternity awaited him.  He was prepared for his homecoming.  Therefore, we were ready for it, though it hurt to lose a good soul who was loving and dearly loved. 

Why did someone as special as Greg Gonzales... "Chevy" as we called him... never hear his alarm waking him up because he passed away in his mid-sleep at the ripe age of 25?  Why Chevy?  Why was I reminded not to take life for granted in hospital room with my grandfather that very weekend that a young life was taken from the earth at an age we feel is too soon.

As I lay in bed thanking God for not having a worse situation with my Papaw like I know so many others have had to experience, a friend that I planned to make a lifetime of memories with was suffering an aortic aneurism in his heart.  God called him home.  You cannot explain the why's of things.  I have learned this through the life-journey I have come to know... the crazy/beautiful life I lead.

Do you know how I have made myself proud during this time of sorrow and tragedy?  First, I had to go through the crappy times in life a few times previously and learn the difference in how I handled the blows and figuring out which one worked and which one didn't. 

I have spent this time of mourning with my eyes open to the light of God and I have put my complete trust in Him.  At other times I have instead stood with my eyes closed making situations even darker than needed. My sight was in the worldly things which kept my eyes off the only light that could get me through to sunnier days. When I have attempted to handle tribulation on my own, things went from bad to worse to miserable to completely lost.  When I have allowed God to handle it, which my roots and core values know to do - I am able to experience joy even when at the same time hurting over loss. 

That is what I have been doing rather than blogging.  I have been in mourning but it's been more in celebration of the lives that were lived by faith and not stuck in a place where I just dwell, and dwell, and dwell some more. 

I have been with friends who were brought back together through tragedy.  I have been in reverent prayer and devotional time with the Lord as He has revealed Himself to me in so many ways and I have been able to have the strength and wisdom to carry on because I know all things are possible with the Lord.  That wisdom came from experience, trial and error, and witnessing an overwhelming presence of God in every circumstance - good, bad, big, and little. 

I am sad, but strong.  I am not mad at God, but trusting in His work.  I do not understand the ways of it all, but I am not God and therefore I only can understand what my human mind is made capable of understanding.  I want to ask "why" and it pops into my head at constant but I answer myself with the only vague answer there is - "Because God has a plan and a reason and purpose for everything."  I just use the ability He did give us to believe and have faith, instead of letting my little tiny brain try to put a physics equation together to make sense of something that we aren't supposed to make sense of.

It will be hard not having Chevy around, it will be hard to visit family reunions and know Uncle Fred and other elder members of the family have passed away, and it is a bummer that I was not able to be a testimony to my coach who I respected and admired and would do anything for -- especially be that living testament that depression can be beat and so can anything else as long as God is the one we put our trust in.

I said I was going to keep it short but we all know that I do that a lot and it does not happen.  I just use this blog to vent, share what is happening in my life and maybe it inspires yours or helps you in some way and maybe it doesn't, and I have no format or rule and regulation to it. 

I do hope one day I am able to comprehend the powerful things that are happening in my life so that I can put them on paper and maybe give hope to others while giving the glory to God.

I know that is what those that I have lost all at once here recently would want me to do.  Be myself and do my thing.  Plus, the loss of people often bring comradery and comradery with people like the ones that "Chevy" brought back together has been the biggest blessing in giving me the opportunity to feel like my whole, true self again. 

The beautiful in the crazy.  The balance of life that comes from looking at the glass half-full and with the Lord by your side. I wish everyone could see life that way, even if it means they have to learn the hard way like I did.  It is worth it. 

peace and love 

baily  

Deuteronomy 30:19-20

This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses.  Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to His voice, and hold fast to Him.  For the Lord IS your life.

This song describes my life pretty dead-on.

tests and testimonies

So, how bad did you miss me? I haven't realized how non-bloggy I've been lately. I promise, I've been keeping busy with school and somewhat of a social life. Plus, I went on my trip to my hometown for my best friend's wedding. It was beautiful, and I will be sure to blog about it soon.  What's so crazy, is that at the wedding I learned about all of these readers of my blog that I wasn't exactly aware of. I think it's so cool that people are reading what I write, even if they don't sign up for a Google account to be my "follower"... cough cough! But, really, hello to everyone that reads about my beautiful and tragic life as a twenty-something year old!! Haha... any new readers... proceed with caution!!

My sissy over at Moonpies and Fireflies has been getting her blog off to a good start with the 30-Day Challenge thing. It's so weird how I was getting into the 30-Day Challenge and was on like Day 7 or something when the fire flipped my world upside down... don'tcha think? You know what's even weirder... that the day before the fire the prompt was to write about a picture that made you sad. I posted a picture of one of our military veterans that is living homeless in our country right now. That does make me sad, even more now than ever, but it's funny to think how mysterious God really is in his ways. The day before the fire I was crying out for sympathy for the homeless Americans who have nothing to their name. The many Americans that aren't as fortunate as I am and don't get to replace all their belongings with an insurance claims check. The fire that took their possessions, literally took their possessions. I remember thinking about fire victims that very day. Because, remember?? I kept making comments earlier that weekend that I have no fire alarm in my room or fire estinguisher in my house. I was almost fearful of the fire before it even happened. Is that what made me handle it so well? Is that why I knew to just get everyone and all the dogs out of the house and to not go save that pile of David Yurman that was dancing in the line of fire?

I guess so. Seems mysterious. Must be God.

Just like the blog I wrote that very day about my faith and how God always does something huge and very trying in order to strengthen my relationship with him. Strange, huh? He was preparing me.  In all the ways - physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Duh - I get it now... pretty sneaky there, God!

I wish I could put it into words, the way that I feel day in and day out. I really can't, but the best way I've come to describe it is that I'm living in a twilight zone. I literally live each day from start to finish and worry about the next when it comes. Lately, I've been better about responsibly planning ahead as far as studying and work because of how my school/internship started at the beginning of the month, but ever since the fire it has really just felt like I'm living in a whole different world than before. Spiritually, mentally, physically. Nothing in my room was here before the fire. Everything is new, borrowed, or thrifted. New pictures, new clothes, new bedding, new journals, new books. It's a very odd feeling.

Like, I said earlier, when I was at home I learned about all of these friends of my parents' that read my blog. A couple of my mom's friends and mom's of some of my own friends (that's a tongue twister) would let me introduce them to Chace before they'd say, "oh, I know who that is, I read about him all the time!!" He would just wink at me because he just eats it up when people say I should have stuck with journalism or if I'm complimented on my writing in any way. See, Chace has always pictured me as this spunky little sports' journalist or this free-spirited creative writer that can turn any prompt into something. He is soooo much like my dad, by the way. Freaky deaky. Dad sees me being a writer one day, too.  He thinks all of my passions for developmental disorders, advocacy, writing, campaigns, feminism, etc. can come together and make a rewarding career. Ever since he put that idea in my head of putting my passions together rather than chosing between them, I have been eager to see what I can do or what difference I can make once I have that opportunity. But, not yet. Remember... one day at a time. That's how it goes here in The Twilight Zone.

Speaking of taking it one day at a time, let me just tell one more story about that mysterious Man. The fire happened on a Tuesday the 13th (lucky 13, huh?) and on Sunday the 11th of April, I went to First Baptist Trussville with my sissy, her hubs, Momma, Daddy, Nana, and Papaw. I kept ranting and raving about their Pastor, Buddy Champion. I kept saying how I loved that series he kicked off that day called "iStress" and how I was going to come back and hear him preach that series. It was about stress and how the best "app" for the stresses in life was the Bible. I highlighted the scripture (which was mostly Psalm 23, but a few others), dated it, marked it with the series name and cited Buddy Champion as the preacher. Next to it was my sixth grade handwriting and the date that a church member told me to always refer to Psalm 23 when I was scared about the cancer that threatened my Dad. To this day, I'll never forget that moment when Mark and Janice McCallister prayed with my family at Wednesday night supper and Janice told me that passage. And years from now I will still remember how protected by the Lord I felt when I realized one of the other Bible verses that I highlighted that day, April 11th, was also the ending verse to a passage that would be read to me the morning after the fire and that I would cling to in the days, weeks, now months after that dreaded night of April 13th.

Matthew 6:34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
( see the entire passage I have cited in my new Bible as "my fire passage" by clicking on the link: Do Not Worry (Matthew 6:25-34, NIV) )

My sister read it to me that Wednesday morning as we drove to the fire department to pick up the fire report from the night before. I already had goosebumps from the passage before it, and then as the last verse was read, I felt a vivid awakening from the Lord. He was protecting me, and I was going to be okay. I sifted through ash and soot, I showered and turned the bath water dark grey, I went to Wal-Mart with limited complaining, I slaved in the laundry mat, I wrote list after list after list, I shopped, I studied, I commuted, I missed my dog, I missed my things, I missed friends, I missed my life. I cried. I screamed. I did it all. And you know what? I was ok. I had just been reminded that Psalm 23 can get me through the stress that iStressed. I didn't worry about the next day, I just got through the one that had been given to me. I made quiet time and reading the Bible a very big part of each of those days, though, and that's why I wasn't lying when I answered everyone this weekend when they asked how I was doing and how I've handled it so well. I told them I'm fine, because I am, even though my life could set the scene for an Alfred Hitchcock movie. And I've been able to get through it because I cling to that old rugged cross. Me and Alan Jackson's playlist on my computer belt out his 'Precious Memories' album. All those old Southern Gospel songs... love 'em. I still scream my Janis, but I haven't had to in a while. I still love my girl, don't get me wrong, but I've been in more of a Gospel and Beatles singing mode these days. Janis was always sad... or being a hard@$$ so I haven't had to be in that mood really. The way I look at things from within The Twilight Zone is this - if I'm going to start over, jump into this new beginning, clean slate, fresh start, then shouldn't I use this as that turning point I so often longed for before the fire?? I mean, in my head I couldn't wait to get out of school so I could start over. I'd join a church up here, I'd start going to a Sunday school class, and so forth.  But when I went home for Spring Break, I stayed for the second sermon that morning because I was so moved by it the first time, I needed to hear it again. I was being preached to as if I was the only person in the building besides Pastor Mercer that morning, both services. This was the first tug at my heart to better my life at that time, instead of waiting for a fresh start after graduation. The tugging on my heart, the closeness I feel to God, it all started at Spring Break in my hometown church on Sunday March 14th. A month of drawing closer to him and a month of preparing me for a fire that was going to change my life forever. Mysteriously comforting.

I might just have to add this testimony to my list of passions up there. Maybe I can write a book about it. "The Beautiful and Tragic Life of a Twenty-Something Year Old... and the fire that made it more tragic and even more beautiful." Probably no 'Best-Seller' but if Hitchcock were still alive, he'd dig it.

peaceandlove

baily jordan