Who We Are

                   I still remember the smell that hit me, the first day, a combination of bread, aged beef, and bleach; and as I walked in through the back doors of the restaurant, I felt terribly nervous about interacting with the General Manager. My sister had already warned me how serious he was, and to be very respectful, and always on time; I wanted to make a good impression on him. My sister took me to work since I was just a few days shy of my sixteenth birthday; she was still obligated to drive all of her younger siblings around.    She introduced me to the GM and he waved me into his office to put me in the computer system. Since he knew my sister I had not even filled out an application for the host position. So, when he asked for my identification and social security number I did not have any with me, not being informed I needed them. He laughed and s...

Truth is always defined by the majority collective, when the said majority is composed of disjointed points, especially disjointed players, truth will always consist of pillars left up to interpretation. Truth is definable, as those who overtake those interpretations cement a picture in their own nature. A nature defined by others, only residing in limited space, alone, will only lead to a future so far.    Bending into the spurs of moments, we are all responsible for bearing the call, wherever, whenever, we feel it. And as much as we have sidestepped the screams of the voiceless, others have heard our silence. Others have reveled in our limited capacity. But, as the truth is defined by each individual responding to it, so is the call. Responding to a call of justice, equity, fairness, impartiality, the actions goes on and on, and yet the realization for laboring is small, even though the potential laborers for each category are many.    W...

Taking stock on the definition of privilege is an ongoing check. An evolving habit often mandating little expectation on the other side of service, but a high expectation on oneself. I consider a lot of service a privilege. Stopping myself from defining a yoke of service, past privilege only, is a daily practice. When I allow myself to consider service to others anything other than an absolute, humbled, privilege I fall really short of where Jesus has asked me to be. I fall off this work horse constantly, throw my heart back on the saddle, and try to move forward. What is often considered burdensome has the potential to free, expand, or ignite another. I obsess over the "Pull Yourself Up by your Own Bootstraps" adage. Not to further on the miscontrued nature of the well-loved myth, but to knock the head off. My service to others, freely given, speaking only to holding the responsibility of someone else's potential, matters.  My children come to mind, alongside of those mu...

I come from a long line of caretakers, those that would sit with empathy and restraint. Concoctions and elixirs emerge from generations to spring forth a balance. Hands to provide, words to encourage and nurture. These motions to cure the ones we love with a heart pulled in every possible direction. We are supposed to be strong, to lay vigilant in darkness, acutely aware of the rise and fall of a chest. A flowchart of questions and answers from light to dark, monitoring, regulating.    New systems and rituals slowly begin to fold over within themselves, creeping within your daily life. This is what it has become? Months of visual consumption, what to do, what to watch out for, and all of a sudden it was here.  How do you begin to prepare for the unknown expedition you are about to embark on? With fearful trepidation? Like some modern dark horse, I try to provide while balancing my own life on a tray. This too is important, for there is much at stake.  ...

What if we lived in a world where no one had to ask because it had already been given. No one would need a hand out or a hand up because we had all collectively chosen let go, refusing to anticipate getting or receiving, because this mentality goes against Who We Are. We facilitate growth, letting go of what was not ours in the first place, pushing forward an entity that could propel another into an entirely different universe. What if what’s mine is yours, and I see safety inside of you?   Regardless of how beautiful any other religion is, regardless of how much we pretend and create stories over others, no matter any of our collective efforts to edge out our fellow man, in a world of difference, of superiority, the foundation of equity laid by the Son of Man is unquestionable.  Over and over again, He extends the answer. To forgive, to love, to be the last in line.  Even when we know it ourselves. And have the audacity to ask, once more, for clarificat...

We are constantly invited to be Who We Are. Henry David Thoreau, years ago, would of never guessed how many times I would be able to side step this invitation. Only now, as every pretense or self-made assumption about my innateness, has evaporated out of my body, do I remain now, as I have always been.  Lost.   Pushing against this current, the constant overflow of chaos, dysfunction, and loss has defined my past. Working against the drip of this said current no longer wraps around my vision for myself, seeping into themes of unwanted definitions. Who I Am is not out of the ordinary, my brokenness continues to be my greatest asset. This brokenness only correlates to my greatest power, Who Christ Is. My choice, even my greatest responsibility, is to choose Him, humbly. Outside of this, there is little to discern.  Or control.  Even so, I am constantly invited to be as I have been called, constantly given a choice to extend grace, to forgive, to love wit...

For some reason, my father chose to move into a house, on the North West side of Oklahoma City. As memories of the house are recalled, my Mother will say the move was motivated by his want to be as far away from her side of the family as possible. Built in the 1940's, I remember walking through the house after we closed, I'm four or five, and believing every part was absolutely magical. I do not think I had ever seen an attic before. Dad will renovate, nearly the entire property, but my favorite parts remain the spaces that were a bit sketchy. Mom let us roller-blade in the house and as you went from one end to the other, a significant slant downwards would give you a good amount of momentum. The living room had a beautiful, huge, double pane window, that would fill up with water, like a fish tank, when we got rain.    There was a large mulberry tree in the backyard, under a wood fort we would make mud pies with miniature wild onions, even though we were only minutes from dow...

  The difference between taking a chance or sitting on your hands is quite relative, but within that vacuum of relativity, a truth lies waiting. Whether or not a chance is taken or a move is rejected, the mindset of pushing forward is the bigger winner. Grind and grit are marvelous choices, indeed, brave characteristics, but as all truths fall and reside on a spectrum, so does a capacity to choose.  Finding oneself between the nooks and crannies of this universe, and all beyond, begins, not in the wind, not in one's incessant ability to bark towards audiences not listening, but where being has always resided.  He always has been and always will be, and we as a creation, are without an excuse. Yet, we are set with the yoke of light and peace. As the sun shines on our faces, so has His word. And as our hearts have made moves, left, right, or center, He has searched us all. Let Him not find a brain that knows scripture, and a heart far from those words. Let us ask to be used...

I am a ticket holder. My needle is ready, with layered thread. I see a future and put one step in at a time, towards the dream.  But, I did not arrive at this transcendent, evolved, know thyself, understanding of drive. I was born into this understanding, with a Father, telling me to divide and conquer intimidation one box at a time. With a Mother, telling me to stop dwelling inside of a lily white world. With a teacher taking me aside after I had given a very ill-prepared presentation, and telling me that I had a natural gift for speaking.  These formative affirmations have been a consistent undercurrent my entire life, but now, what is the value of my knowledge and strengths if they remain, only in me. Whatever you teach children today, travels with them, far into the future. So, poignantly said, by the children's author Mary Pope Osbourne. What a stirring inside of each of us, patiently waiting to be launched, despite intimidation, despite a clear path forward.  Whatev...

The next few days are a blur and I lean fully on the support from friends and family as I navigate a PTSD response I had no idea I would experience. Nightmares, leg spasms and a constant nausea are just a few of the symptoms that bombard me. The fifth day, after my television interview, I finally have a breakdown and my Husband takes the kids with him to go stay with his Dad. My dear friend Marti comes to stay with me and forces me to leave the house for the first time in almost a week. We drive to a local lake and she takes me to the dam where we stand and she tells me to breathe and let go. I watch the water pumping fiercely through the dam and I feel a release deep in my core. A strong feeling of warmth overwhelms me, and a small voice reminds me, I must press on.        I sleep better that night but still wake up in the middle of the night in a panic. I feel like I’m suffocating and have to rush out the door of my bedroom onto my pati...