tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26965360842891193302024-03-25T16:30:05.130-04:00Bellez JourneyBellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-28636161571802021842017-04-10T14:52:00.001-04:002017-04-10T14:56:04.164-04:00A Season for Everything<style>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">The sounds of
robins chirping, motorcycles zooming by, lawn mowers buzzing, and the smell of
fresh cut grass can only mean one thing…Spring is in the air! The temperature
might still be a little chilly in the morning, but by midday you can shed your jacket
and enjoy the warmth of the sunshine.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Fall is my favorite
season, but Springtime is not far behind. It signifies that warmer weather is
just around the corner. Flowers bloom to expose all of the beautiful color
combinations you can imagine. The laughter of children echoes in the park.
Everything seems refreshed and rejuvenated. Yesterday just happened to be one
of those beautiful spring days. I took advantage of the warmer weather and
spent all day outdoors. I raked my yard, organized my garage, and assembled a
bistro set I had purchased for the patio. I topped it all off by enjoying my
new table and chairs. I sat down with a drink in one hand and binoculars in the
other (to observe the various birds that gather around my bird feeders). At the
end of it all I mustered the little bit of energy I had left and cut down some
hyacinths to make a pretty bouquet for my kitchen. They filled the entire room
with their sweet aroma! So, why am I feeling down today? You already know.
There is no “cure” for depression, only maintenance.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">With depression
some days are better than others. Our mood is not necessarily dependent on
what’s going on around us. While our environment and circumstances do affect our
mood, we also have to account for biological factors. We are beings with
imperfect bodies who suffer from physical ailments, chemical imbalances, genetic
flaws, etc. In other words, even if the world around us were to be perfect we
must remember that our bodies are not. </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">My advice to you
(and me) is do not blame yourself. Do not feel guilty about feeling depressed. Also,
don’t waste the little amount of strength you have trying to fight it. It’s
coming whether we like it or not! The important thing to remember is that we
have been here before yet risen victoriously in the end. Continue trudging forward
until you see the light at the end of the tunnel once again. Use Spring as a
reminder that there is a season for everything and that in due time everything will
be renewed, including yourself. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4 – “To everything there is a
season, A time for every purpose under heaven…A time to weep, and a time to
laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.”</span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-67126605568150902532016-12-15T19:40:00.000-05:002016-12-15T19:46:02.753-05:00How do You Cope?<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
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-- </style><span style="font-family: "american typewriter";"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> It comes like a thief in the night,
quietly making its way through your most intimate parts in search of what it
can rob from you. That is depression. Depression doesn’t care how much work and
effort you’ve put into something. Its only mission is to dismantle you at your
very core. Only then will it be satisfied. It has no empathy. It has no
sympathy. It has no conscience. It robs you of your joy. The more reasons you
have to be joyful for, the harder depression fights to make its way into your
life. Fortunately, we have ways to cope with it.</span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I learned long ago that self-care is
of utmost importance. A major component of self-care is to educate yourself AND
OTHERS about how your depression affects you, and ways you can overcome some of
the damage it causes. I say some because depression is a chronic illness that
doesn’t just simply go away. It can be mitigated, but hardly ever eradicated.
Depression can go into hibernation but it will always find a way to make an
appearance, usually during your most joyful moments.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Self-care can look different for
each and every one of us. It can be in the form of medication, exercise,
healthy diet, spirituality, meditation, etc. The question we must ask ourselves
is, “What works best for me?” Oh, and let me not forget to add a very important
factor to this list: stay away from negative voices! The world is full of complainers–people
that tend to lament over their life but don’t want to find solutions. There
also those who will make ignorant comments such as “Get over it.”, or “I’ve
been through much worse and I’m not depressed.” Drop those people like a hot
piece of coal and move on! Can you just get over having illnesses such as
asthma, diabetes, or high blood pressure? No, but you can keep symptoms and
flare-ups under control. The same principle applies to depression. Depression
is a mental infirmity, and just because you can’t hear it or take a blood test
to prove you have it does not mean it doesn’t exist.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In my case self-care consists of coping
methods such as prayer, writing, listening to music, watching comedies, taking
leisurely walks, and not rushing through life. I refuse to allow myself or
anyone else put too many things on my plate. I choose to do only one thing at a
time. I choose to say no if I know I can’t handle a task. I also say no if I
don’t feel like doing something or going somewhere. I choose to not attempt to
please everybody at every moment. And I do so without feeling guilty.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>For any of you out there who
struggle with depression I would like to remind you that you are not alone. It
may feel like that much of the time, but that is partly because we tend to
isolate ourselves when we feel down. However, statistical data demonstrates
that “depression is a common mental disorder…Globally an estimated 350 million people of all
ages suffer from depression” (<a href="http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs369/en/)">http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs369/en/)</a>. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So, what are we to do? We need to do
what is best for us! We must not listen to the negative voices. We shall cry if we have to
cry. We need to reach out to someone we trust. We must pray even when it’s difficult to utter the
words. Most important of all, we must not give up! We must continue on even if we have to
drag <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">ourselves</span> to the other side. We must not forget all of the walls we have climbed over
and own the fact that we are strong!</span></div>
Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-12868725430708632432016-10-12T13:20:00.000-04:002016-10-12T13:28:14.458-04:00Silent Pain<style>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Every once in a while you
see something or hear something that makes you stop in your tracks. The
opposite is also true. You might see a topic that doesn’t seem to be of
importance or interest to you at all, but then you hear about it again and it
completely immerses you. Such was my experience a couple of weeks ago when I
saw Kevin Hines* speak about suicide.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Suicide is something that
has touched me personally, yet I have not typically given it much thought. Perhaps
it was because the subject of suicide is a societal taboo. Or perhaps it was
because for so long I didn’t understand the “whys” as to why someone would take
their own life, until I experienced some of those thoughts myself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My first encounter with anything
related to suicide occurred when I was 13. My father had been diagnosed with a
very painful form of cancer (multiple myeloma) a couple of years earlier. I had
watched him grimace in pain, and wither away to nothing as the days and weeks
went by. He was a quiet man, and a very reserved Latino man at that, so he
would not discuss how he was feeling with anyone. He suffered in silence. And
it was in that silence that he attempted to take his own life.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">All I can remember about
that day is the little bit of chaos that my mother would let me witness. “Is he
going to make it?” was one of the questions I heard. “Should we take him to the
hospital?” was another. I don’t actually remember seeing my father in his
bedroom. I only remember seeing him in the hospital with tubes inserted in his
body, and hearing conversations about the doctors pumping his stomach of its
contents. I was 13, and memories can sometimes play tricks on you, but that is
what I mainly remember. I also remember being around my dad as much as I could
after he came home. I did not want to leave him alone, fearing that he would try
to do the same thing again. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My dad never told me why
he did what he did. For a long time I was mad at him because I couldn’t
reconcile the fact that he loved me, but not enough to try to keep on living. I
simply just did not understand his pain. I have since learned that people who
take their own lives don’t really want to die. No, they simply want the hurting
to stop. We may not understand the hurt, but their pain is very real.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My father died in 1982. I
still miss him immensely despite all of the years that have passed, but I am at
peace knowing that his pain ended long ago. Now today, October 12, 2016, on what
would have been his 93<sup>rd</sup> birthday, I choose to honor his memory by
recognizing that he did love me. He loved me with all that he had. He loved me
despite his pain.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Depression is something I
will always have to deal with, but thankfully I have not had suicidal thoughts
for a very long time. I thank God for that. I thank my friends and family for
their love and support. I also need to thank myself for recognizing that
self-care is of utmost importance.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My wish is that we reach
out to those who are hurting, and that if you are the one hurting that you let
somebody know. Do not feel embarrassed, and do not feel weak. Asking for help
is one of the bravest things any of us can ever do!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt;">*<i> “In September 2000, Kevin Hines leapt
off the Golden Gate Bridge, a method of suicide attempt that has resulted in
death for most of the 2000 people who have made that jump since the bridge was
erected in 1937…But Kevin survived. He survived, and in the 16 years since his
nearly fatal try, Kevin has become the bridge between the many mothers,
fathers, brothers, sisters, children, spouses, friends, and loved ones who made
a similar acts.”</i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
<i><span style="font-size: 11.5pt;">Check out his incredible story at
http://www.kevinhinesstory.com/</span></i></span>
Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-42550088423411696472016-03-18T13:49:00.005-04:002016-03-18T14:00:47.515-04:00Chips & Chocolate<style>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Has something ever happened to you and you thought, “Wow,
what a coincidence!” Happens to me all the time. What I have noticed, however,
is that most times they are not mere coincidences. They are lessons.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Sometimes lessons are so subtle that if we are not paying
attention we miss them, but every now and then we ask ourselves, “Was I
supposed to learn something from this?” For me most of the time the answer is
yes! This week was a prime example of that. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11.0pt;">A couple of days ago I went to the store to buy a few
necessities. Payday was still a few days away so I had to be wise with the
little bit of money I had on hand. Many times we confuse our “wants” with our “needs”
and I had that in mind when I set my sight on a bag of potato chips. I enjoy a
good potato chip! Of course it was right there as soon as you walk into the
store, so I had the entire time at the store to think about that bag of chips.
Although my desire was great, I decided I better wait because I had to buy
other items in order to make sure my son had something for dinner for the next
couple of days. I left the store without the bag of chips.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11.0pt;">After I got home it was time to get ready for bible study.
In lieu of our usual routine, our group had decided to get together and help
out a couple that is in the midst of a total house renovation. They need a lot
of assistance as they have a newborn and have to get things repaired and
cleaned before they move in. We joyfully pitched in and enjoyed some snacks that
were brought. One of the snacks was none other than a bag of chips! Needless to
say I dug right in. When it was time to go home the friend that brought the
chips said, “Maribel, take these home. I don’t want them.” Lo and behold, I got
my chips…for free!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Yesterday I had a similar scenario at work. We received an
email that in honor of St. Patrick’s Day there was a mint chocolate candy bar
in our staff mailbox. I love chocolate more than chips! I immediately sent out
a thank you email and couldn’t wait until I checked my mailbox. That candy bar
would be a great supplement to my lunch. I was excited to go pick up my candy
bar. My excitement was short lived though because when I checked I didn’t have
one. I received the email but apparently was not one of the intended
recipients. I was disappointed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Later on in the day a co-worker who had gone to a meeting
that I was unable to attend called and asked me if I had a minute because she
brought back some information to share with me. When she came to my office she
handed me a couple of brochures, a pen, and a York Peppermint Patty – the same
type of candy bar that was supposed to be in my mailbox!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Now I need to make an addition. As I was writing this I
took a coffee break. I didn’t bring breakfast with me this morning, and was
actually craving Ritz crackers (another one of my favorite snacks). I made the
coffee, went to chat with a coworker, and what did she have right there on the
corner of her desk? A pack of Ritz crackers! She told me to help myself. She
had no idea what an impact that had on me, and what a confirmation it gave me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I refuse to believe that these incidents are mere
coincidences. I was supposed to learn a lesson, or be reminded of lessons I
already know. Psalm 37:4 states, “Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you
the desires of your heart.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Matthew
6 encourages us to not worry excessively about the every day cares of life. Instead,
we ought to put God above all else because we have His assurance that He will
take care of our every need. Philippians 4:6 tells us to “…<span class="textphil-4-6">not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by
prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.</span>” <span class="textphil-4-7"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Sometimes God uses us, and other times he talks to
us/shows up through others. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How
blessed am I that this week He showed up in the form of chips and chocolate…and
Ritz!</span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span>
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Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-65853889773972982372016-02-27T12:47:00.000-05:002016-02-27T12:47:07.938-05:00Make Life Count
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span>Within the past couple of days I
received news that two family members are on their deathbeds, one given a few
days to live, the other a couple of months. Life is finite, that is no secret.
Not one of us can escape the hour when we will take our last breath on this
earth. Typically we don’t wake up asking ourselves if today will be that day.
No one knows the exact time. We all know we must die, but when we are told we
have an approximate period of time to live it becomes so much more real.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span>I think I reflect on death more
than your conventional person because of losing both parents to cancer. I
remember hearing that dreaded phrase, “You have x-number of months to live.”
This is why I try to live my life to the fullest. I travel, I tell people I
love them, I forgive, I try to be as kind as I can be, and I eat what I want
when I have a craving. I refuse to allow my finances dictate how I’m going to
enjoy life. I usually have enough resources to do what I want because I choose
to be content with what I have. I don’t live life to impress anyone else, nor
to accommodate anyone’s idea of how I should live my life. I know that I am on
this earth only because God allowed it to be so, and realize that this is my
temporary home. I am imperfect. I screw up, I get up again, and thank God for
His mercy. My future is secure in Him. </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span>Hearing the recent bad news finds
me once again contemplating the brevity of life. Don’t spend your last days
lamenting the past. Make your life count from today on! Do the things you want
to do, always keeping God in the forefront. Free yourself by forgiving others,
spend less on brand names and more on memories, don’t cancel plans with family
in order to get more work done. Spend less time being upset at your significant
other and more time demonstrating why you fell in love with them in the first
place. Craving dessert? Eat it! In public and get the urge to dance? Do it! </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span>What stories do you want to
leave behind with your loved ones? Let their grief be replaced by loving memories.</span></span></span></div>
Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-9144240550099440722015-10-14T15:11:00.002-04:002015-10-14T15:15:06.522-04:00Afraid to Live?<style>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fear. The word itself connotes worry and concern. We have
all feared something or someone.
Whether it’s another human being, an illness, a decision, or commitment
we have at one time or another experienced that uneasy feeling up and down our
spine. And you know what? It is perfectly okay to be afraid!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Many people hold fear as being synonymous with weakness. I
couldn’t disagree more! Fear is an emotion that leads to action. You might be
thinking, “No way! Fear makes me freeze in my tracks!” The fact of the matter
is that either way we must take action: freeze and turn around, or face the
fear and trudge forward.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> According to <a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none;">www.psychologytoday.com</span></a>,
“Fear is a vital
response to physical and emotional danger—if we didn't feel it, we couldn't
protect ourselves from legitimate threats.” Too often, however, we protect
ourselves so much that we end up giving in to our fear.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Let me be candid with you and share some of my fears. Because of an
incident when I was around 4 years old, I fear black hairy spiders (one crawled
down my arm)! I am slightly claustrophobic (I don’t like feeling trapped). I
dislike speeding in cars and driving over bridges. I absolutely have a fear of
heights. And, I definitely fear something bad happening to my children.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> To a certain extent I have faced some of the fears I listed. One of my
proudest moments was climbing a very tall ladder and swinging on a flying
trapeze. I was literally paralyzed with fear in the beginning, but it got a
little less intimidating each time I climbed. Am I still afraid of heights?
Certainly! However, each time it gets a little easier. I constantly pray to God
to watch over and protect my children. Do I still worry about them? Of course,
but I don’t let it consume my thoughts. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> What I’m trying to say is that fear used to hold me back from living. It
was safer to stay in my comfort zone. If I tried, I might experience failure.
If I loved, it would hurt. I was afraid to be happy. I had many goals and dreams, but fear kept me
from attempting to accomplish them. Remember I said fear is an emotion that
leads to action? Well it was that same fear that prompted me to change: fear of
the hopeless routines, fear of missing out on all of the beautiful things life
has to offer. And most of all, fear of living an insignificant life.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> God placed each and every one of us on this earth with a unique purpose
to serve. Some live a majestic life of record-breaking achievements, others enjoy
the thrill of being financially secure, and yet others enjoy the reward of
having a loving family life. While it is perfectly normal to be afraid, we should
never allow fear to hold us back from embracing God’s purpose for us. We are
not here to merely exist, we are here to live!</span></span>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-30887457138018145372015-10-10T12:41:00.003-04:002015-10-10T12:49:03.948-04:00Timing<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
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--></style> <span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">They say timing is everything. I
guess that’s true, but I also believe that sometimes it’s a little off. It
takes you in a direction you were not planning to go in. Nevertheless, I have a
saying, “The best times are had unplanned.” You can’t plan for situations and
expect them to come out right 100% of the time.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Some of the best feelings in the
world are impromptu smiles, unplanned adventures, secret escapes. You can’t be
disappointed because you’re not expecting anything in the first place. On the
contrary, your heart is filled with genuine joy because the stars lined up and
everything turned out just the way you didn’t plan.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> This
was my experience during my recent trip back home, the home of my ancestors. No
economic crisis, no lack of employment, nor moral dilemmas can take away her
beauty. Not one of God’s creations is ugly, and Puerto Rico is a prime example
of that. It is one of the most beautiful places on earth. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> During
this recent visit I was re-energized and further educated. I learned that we
have four different landscapes: beaches, mountains, rainforest, and desert…all
within driving distance of each other! Our people are open, warm, and caring. We
have a zest for life. Music is in our blood, and it carries a variety of
rhythms through our veins. And what can I say about our food? It’s
unparalleled! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Our rich history tells of our Taíno
ancestors’ struggle to survive, the slaves’ cries for freedom, and the expansion
of the Spanish. But the real beauty of the matter is that we are all one.
Black, white, tan – we all lay claim to a rich heritage that has intertwined
throughout the years. One cannot survive without the other. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Although I am returning to the
place I’ve called home for the past 30+ years, I have left my heart behind. It
was touched, it was blessed, and it was captured. I have not felt this cleansed
and alive in a very long time. I was not prepared to experience the feelings
that came over me, but it couldn’t have happened at a better time.</span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-63296160217965798102015-09-20T15:13:00.002-04:002015-09-20T15:16:23.593-04:00Looking Good<style>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Yesterday someone said I looked good. Today someone else
said I looked healthy. I did not agree. “But I’ve gained ten pounds!” I uttered.
Then it dawned on me…I am healthier. I am emotionally healthier.
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sad thoughts are few and far between these days. My mind is
clearer. I find myself smiling more often, singing along to my favorite songs,
and acting goofy. And most importantly, I look forward to the future, with
hope. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Life is all about climbing the peaks and resting at the
valleys, and I hope I have been able to encourage you in some way. You’ve
shared in my journey and have been able to see how depression has affected me.
There are many, many things I have not shared on here but believe me when I
tell you it is a miracle that I have not given up on life. I know depression
well enough to know that it will try to make a re-appearance. But I also know
my God well enough to know that He will still be there to sustain me. I know
because He promised (Isaiah 46:4).</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So keep your head up, even when the burden is heavy. It will
get lighter. After all, a certain amount of darkness is necessary to see the
stars.</span></span></div>
Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-79676920421669787352015-05-22T14:46:00.002-04:002015-05-22T14:46:57.155-04:00The Hand of God<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t always remember vivid details about the dreams I
have. Most often I remember how I feel after the dream (scared, happy,
confused, etc.) Last night was a different story. I had a dream that was very
brief, but very powerful. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My dream took place inside an old factory that I had
wandered into. Oh, I didn’t wander in there by mistake. No, my intentions were
not good at all. I was there to sin, purposely sin. I weaved through the factory,
which inside seemed to be all but abandoned. I saw a set of steps that led me
to a cramped corner that was barely lit. I curled up in that corner with my
back to a small window. It was dusk outside – no bright sunshine or rays of
light coming in. Just above me there was a small ledge. On that ledge was what
I believe to have been a small bird inside a tiny cage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the bottom of the steps was the
object of my sin. I had passed right by it, hoping it would recognize what I
was there for.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember a feeling of dark anticipation, vacillating
between feeling excited and feeling guilty. I remember looking up and seeing a
stream of light moving across the wall and the steps. It wasn’t very bright,
but it was enough to create shadows. Then the most amazing thing happened, a
shadow formed into the silhouette of an open left hand. I instantly knew it did
not belong to me, for my hands were folded and placed near my stomach. Also,
there wasn’t anything or anyone else around me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t have to guess for long who the hand belonged to. I
immediately felt a strong desire to pray, and then everything became clear. I had
just witnessed the hand of God. He was there with me. In that abandoned
factory, in the darkest corner, God was with me all along. I could not hide my
desire to sin. I also knew that even in that solitary place, I was not alone. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">
I’m not sure what the bird in the cage represented. Was it
perhaps a reflection of how I felt – trapped in a dark corner where no one
would see or find me, except for the person who put me there? Did I feel
trapped by my own sin? Oh well, that doesn’t matter much to me. What matters
most is knowing, and being reassured of, the fact that I am never alone. No
matter where I find myself physically or emotionally, no matter how obscure my
circumstances seem, God’s hand is always there to guide <span style="font-family: inherit;">me.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal;">Are you feeling broken, shameful, desperate, or simply getting ready to
deliberately commit a sin? It’s not too late, reach out and grab the hand of
God. He is right there with you. He will pull you out to safety and restore
you. His word promises just that.</span></span><span class="woj"> </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">
<span class="woj">John 10:27-29</span><span class="woj"><b><span style="color: #345a8a; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"></span></b></span> </div>
<span class="woj"></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="woj">Isaiah 41:13</span>
</div>
Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-41803483680130473392015-05-07T14:46:00.000-04:002015-05-07T14:56:55.509-04:00Whirlwind of Emotions<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
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-</style> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> <span style="font-size: small;">If you grew up going to the
playground, chances are you had the joy of riding on the merry go-round at top
speed, then stepping off feeling as if you entered some sort of vortex. Your
feet might have been touching the ground, but your brain was still spinning.
Your eyes moved to the left or the right, but it took a few seconds for the
picture in your brain to catch up. This is the only way I know how to describe what
I am experiencing now that I stopped taking one of my antidepressants.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Aside from the dizzy-like effect,
which is sometimes referred to in the antidepressant world as “brain zaps”, I
have been experiencing a whirlwind of emotions and physical symptoms: fatigue,
irritability, strange dreams, and blurry/double vision. Fun, fun! </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I was aware that taking any type of
medication can cause side effects, but I did not give much thought to the fact
that coming off of certain medications can cause withdrawal symptoms (hence why
doctors are adamant about properly weaning yourself off of them, a piece of
advice I did not heed too closely.) </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> My decision to stop taking Celexa
has been a year in the making. Thanks to God, I stopped going to my therapist
last year and it has gone rather well. That, I admit, was a scary decision to
make. A therapist/patient relationship is just that, a relationship. When you
stop going to your appointments, it’s as if you “break-up” with that person. We
both agreed I was at a good point in life where discontinuing counseling was
not a bad decision. I had decided, however, it was best not to discontinue my
medication at the same time, lest it be too much too soon. So, I made it my
goal to quit one year later, and here I am. I do not regret this decision, I
just wish I had done more research about what to expect. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> If you or anyone you know is on
antidepressants, be patient! Be kind to yourself. Be empathetic with others.
Let the person explain how they are feeling, even if you do not completely
understand. The symptoms can feel like hell, but they are not permanent. Even
if just one person reading this has gained some insight about what living with
depression is like, then I know this blog entry was not written in vain.
</span></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://hellopoetry.com/poem/445733/whirlwind/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Times;">Whirlwind</span></a><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">It's a whirlwind in my skull<br />
Mind flipping this way and that<br />
<b>STOP</b><br />
<i>Dizziness is good for the soul</i> I
think to myself<br />
But then it starts up again<br />
Mind tossing this way and that<br />
It won't stop<br />
It can't stop<br />
It's a whirlwind in my skull...<br />
<b>STOPSTOPSTOP </b></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://hellopoetry.com/venig/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Times;">Jared Eli</span></a><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Aug 23,
2013</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">http://hellopoetry.com/words/4838/whirlwin/poems/</span></div>
Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-70521542556156241912015-03-27T10:44:00.002-04:002015-03-27T10:44:42.984-04:00New Risks Equal New Beginnings
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Once again, it has been a while
since I have written on my blog. Aside from sheer laziness, I’ll blame the fact
that I am working two jobs, which leaves me little time for extra-curricular
activities. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
All of the wintry weather we’ve
been having lately reminded me of something I posted three years ago about
gentle reminders and new beginnings. Basically, while it seems that winter will
never end, we must remember that indeed it will and soon enough we will be
enjoying the robin’s chirp, April showers, blooming flowers and my personal
favorite, a walk in the park.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It’s
not often that we think of an end to something as the beginning of something
new. We tend to concentrate on the loss. It just happens to be human nature,
and that is ok. We must allow ourselves time to grieve. People handle
situations differently, and that is ok also. I hate that people are labeled as
strong vs. weak. How about we just accept the fact that we are all built
differently? Our background and experiences shape us into the person we are
today, and none of us has the same exact story.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
My depression has been hiding for a
long time, although it tried to make an appearance around the holidays and a
couple of days ago. I am better prepared this time around so I put it back in
its place. In the words of Sweet Brown, “Ain’t Nobody Got Time For That!” Meditating
on some recent tragedies in my community lately reminds me that life is indeed a
short journey. What is tangible to us today can be gone in an instant. I am
once again encouraged to not take people, things, or opportunities for granted.
I will once again open my heart to love, knowing that nothing in life is
guaranteed. After all, if you don’t take risks you will be left wondering what
could have been. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“In the end, you’ll only
regret the chances you didn’t take, relationships you were afraid to have, and
the decisions you waited too long to make.”</span>
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span>
Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-46809560413357659492014-05-06T12:25:00.002-04:002014-05-06T12:25:16.571-04:00Delayed, But Not Detained
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></u></b> So you’re driving along, on your way to that dream vacation
you’ve planned for months now, when one of the tires on your vehicle blows out.
You skid, you pull over, fix the flat, turn around and go home. Right? Wrong!
No way are you going to turn around now! Your trip may have been delayed by
half an hour, but you have put way too much time, effort and money planning for
this trip. Better late than never!
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You know, life is much like that dream vacation we yearn
for. We have goals (or at least SHOULD have goals) that we strive to achieve.
Some may be short-term, others may take longer to accomplish. Regardless, they
are important to us. If we are truly committed, we will do whatever it takes to
reach that goal. If you’ve ever reached a goal you set for yourself, you know
just how good that sense of accomplishment feels!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes we are cruising along on the road called life,
having a good ole time, when we encounter a little bump. Other times we run
face first into a boulder! We become frustrated. We stub our toe on the little
bump and it hurts too much. We look up at the big boulder and become convinced
that there is no way to climb over it. But what if, instead of doing that, we
would take a step backwards and looked at things from a different perspective? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What if we realized that we could try to
find a way <u>around</u> the obstacle? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I encourage you to take advantage of times like these and
use them as an opportunity to re-focus. Remember that you’ve been down this
road before, and have somehow survived. Not only have you survived, but came
out stronger on the other side. I know because I have been there, more times
than I would have preferred!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s too difficult!” “This is taking too long!” “I’m too tired.”
These are some of the negative things that I have said to myself when the going
got tough. However, I am a dreamer by nature. I love life and am always
planning my next adventure. The years are going to pass me by anyhow, and darn
it if I’m going to sit back and not challenge them! “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes I will rise, out of these ashes rise. From this trouble I have
found, and this rubble on the ground, I will rise. ‘Cause He Who is in me is
greater than I will ever be…” (“Rise”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>by Shawn McDonald).</i></div>
Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-91208765147658622362013-11-21T09:38:00.000-05:002013-11-21T09:38:01.987-05:00Been Away Too LongGreetings!<br />
<br />
I hope you are all doing well. I took a hiatus from writing, but now it's time to get back into the swing of things. I was busy, mostly trying to get rid of some clutter in my life.<br />
<br />
Less busy work + more me time = additional time for me to do the things I love!<br />
<br />
I also would like to take this time to wish you & your families a Blessed & Happy Thanksgiving!<br />
<br />
Stay tuned...Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-696984321435195882012-07-14T10:31:00.002-04:002012-07-14T11:40:05.351-04:00Reach for Your Summit<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In a week, God willing, I will be embarking on the adventure
of a lifetime. Along with a group of other brave souls I will be Africa-bound, where
we will attempt to reach the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, the tallest mountain
in Africa and the tallest free-standing mountain in the world!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Visiting Africa has been on my bucket list since I was a
teenager. I have always been fascinated with traveling, and Africa is certainly
one of the places I have on my list. <span lang="EN">I often think of the children that have been a victim of poverty, civil
war, and diseases such as malaria and AIDS, among many other things. On this
trip I will have the privilege to visit a clinic to meet some of these children
firsthand. This is all made possible through The American Foundation for
Children with AIDS (AFCA.) AFCA is a non-profit organization that helps
children in sub-Saharan Africa, as well as their guardians, who are HIV
positive or who have contracted AIDS and lack access to appropriate medical
care. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
I also have always felt a connection with the people of
Africa. Being Puerto Rican, I can attribute some of my beliefs, vocabulary,
food, and especially music to African roots. Puerto Rico had a large population
of A<span lang="EN">frican slaves that arrived from
the Gold Coast, Nigeria, Dahomey, and the region known as the area of Guineas,
the Slave Coast. The vast majority were ethnic groups from Nigeria and the
Guineas. Their contributions to music, art, language, and heritage have become
instrumental to Puerto Rican culture. And what a rich culture it is!<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thinking about my
trip brought to mind some questions. How many of us have to live with no
running water? How many of us go to the bathroom in an outhouse? How difficult
is it for our children to attend school? I grew up in a relatively humble household.
We had no hot water and oftentimes we didn’t have any running water for days at
a time. Sometimes our electricity would go out and we’d have to get around by
candlelight. When the gas ran out on our stove, my mother would have to prepare
dinner outdoors on a rustic makeshift stove comprised of stones and firewood.
Nevertheless, this type of poor living pales in comparison to the poverty many
people still face. No matter how tough we have it, we really don’t know what struggle
is when we compare our circumstances to other real-life situations. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span lang="EN">Climbing Mt.
Kilimanjaro will be no easy task. It will take approximately 6 days to reach
the summit, and only 1 day to come back down. We will experience several different
climate zones, from dense trees to rocky terrain to snow atop the mountain.<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> A
big cause for concern is the possibility of altitude sickness, which </span></span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">occurs when you cannot get enough oxygen from
the air. Air is thinner at high altitudes. When you go too high too fast, your
body cannot get as much oxygen as it needs. Altitude sickness can range from
feeling like you have the flu or a hangover, to more serious symptoms that
could result in death</span>.</span><span lang="EN"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN">Life is no easy
trek either. It is </span>a lot like climbing a mountain. We will encounter
uphill climbs, downhill descents and plateaus. It may take us a long time to
reach the top, only to find ourselves at the bottom in an instant. Rushing
through life may make us succumb to “altitude sickness.” My advice? Take your
time, keep your eye on the prize, and aspire to reach the summit in your life.
I guarantee the views from there will be worth all of the sacrifice.</span></div>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-69312620551780896682012-05-01T10:28:00.001-04:002012-05-01T10:28:32.661-04:00The Road Ahead<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
On the way to work today I found myself doing something I
have not been able to do in a long time: <i>daydreaming</i>. Depression had robbed me
of that ability for quite some time. After all, one cannot daydream when one is
feeling hopeless. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I kept playing snippets of yesterday in my mind. It was such
a good day for me that I thought to myself, “If this is an indication of what
the rest of my life is going to be like, I am going to be a very happy woman.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For a brief moment the voice of pessimism reared its ugly
head and tried to whisper, “Just remember…it won’t always be this good.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In spite of this, I find that I am at a
point in my life where I could squash that voice immediately and not worry
about the what-ifs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you would have told me just 4 months ago that I would be
smiling, let alone laughing, I would have told you that you were delusional.
The darkness I was living in during that time was all encompassing. Nothing made
sense, nothing was true, nothing was good. I could not think about the future.
Heck, I couldn’t even think about the next day. Most of my days were lived hour
to hour. “If I can just get past this hour,” I would say, “then I can continue
to put the worst behind me.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Have I ever been joyful in the past? Of course I have. This
time around, however, my joy feels different. My life is far from perfect. I
still face debt, worry about my children and their health, deal with my own
insecurities, and long to find a mate. The difference now is that I can still
feel positive and optimistic about my future in spite of this. It is a joy that
I have only been able to find in Jesus. Nothing in this world can trump the
love and protection that can only be found in him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">The way I see it is this: <u>we will all</u>
face adversity in life at one time or another, but we don’t have to face it
alone. I can hand everything over to God and know he will get me through it.
Even in my darkest moments, when I can’t see past the horizon, I don’t have to
worry. God is leading my way, and the road ahead shines ever so bright.</span>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-71217755232253070872012-04-05T14:44:00.002-04:002012-04-05T14:47:11.829-04:00Divorce – My Own Witness Protection Program<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">Imagine having to make the decision of whether to stay quiet and remain anonymous, or to come forward and testify in the name of justice. If you remain anonymous and do not speak up, your life will go on as usual. You will not ruffle any feathers and do not risk losing anything. On the other hand, if you testify you take on the risk of losing many things near and dear to you. You will lose contact with friends and family members, you will have to move to another location, you will have to change jobs, and scariest of all – you will have to take on a whole new identity. Your new life will be lived under the witness protection program.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">For me, divorce was a lot like going into the witness protection program. Some friends remained neutral and offered support, but unfortunately I lost many friends in the process. I lost a whole set of family members: a wonderful mother-in-law and several brothers & sisters-in-law. I could no longer refer to them as my in-laws, nor would I be able to refer to my ex as my husband. I moved to a different house. I no longer lived in a two-parent household; I was now a single mother. I literally took on a completely new identity.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">As the one who filed for divorce, I had to make a very difficult decision. People who think I threw a party the day my divorce was finalized irritate me. What was it that I was supposed to be celebrating? 17 years invested in the institution of marriage? No longer having a companion by my side at night? Or should I have been happy about the fact that I was the one who decided to end it? </span></div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">Let me see if I can make you understand just how painful divorce is: I would not wish it on my worst enemy! I believe divorce can be compared to death. It basically is a type of death, the death of a relationship. With divorce, you undergo the same grieving stages as you do when somebody close to you dies. Being the one who initiates it does not make you immune to the painful process. I guarantee you that both parties will somehow go through the grieving stages<a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=2696536084289119330&postID=7121775523225307087" name="_GoBack"></a>. </span></div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">There are 5 stages to the grieving process: *<i> <b>D</b>enial, <b>A</b>nger, <b>B</b>argaining, <b>D</b>epression, and <b>A</b>cceptance (DABDA.).</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The five stages of grief do not necessarily occur in that order. Grieving is a personal process that has no time limit. We often move between the different stages before we are able to feel some type of normalcy. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. Some people may outwardly weep, while others may seem like they are over it when they’re actually dying inside. The important thing is to <u>allow yourself to grieve</u>. No one I have ever spoken with has ever told me that they enjoy hurting and crying. However, suppressing and resisting your feelings will only prolong the natural healing process.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">It’s been 6 years since my separation and subsequent divorce. I don’t obsess about it, but it is only now that I can honestly say I have moved forward. I am finally adjusting well to life in my own version of the “witness protection program.” I choose to look at it as a new adventure. Having obtained a new identity is not so bad after all. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><i>*For more detailed information on the stages of grief see <a href="http://www.webmd.com/depression/guide/depression-grief">http://www.webmd.com/depression/guide/depression-grief</a></i></span> </div>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-10181878450229917862012-03-28T13:26:00.000-04:002012-03-28T13:26:07.679-04:00Behind Closed Doors<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">I’ve heard it said time and time again, “When one door closes, another one opens.” My question is: What do you do with the baggage in your hands? Do you continue to carry it as you cross the threshold of the newly opened door, or do you review its contents and get rid of the unnecessary first? As we stand on the opposite side of that door we have many decisions to make.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I can’t tell you how many times I have been in the position of facing a closed door. Sometimes I was the one who closed it, other times it was slammed on my face. How I got there matters, but it matters more how I prepare myself before I turn the knob and embark on a new journey.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The last few weeks I have sat back in silence. I have been taking in all that is happening AROUND me, and TO me. I have cried for what I perceived to be losses and have smiled at what I perceive to be new beginnings. I have stood in the background, figuratively speaking, observing the things that bring me joy and the things that bring me grief. The one conclusion I have been able to make is this: grief and anger are good for me.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Am I implying that I am some kind of masochist? Of course not! However, thanks to my last few therapy sessions I have come to realize that grief, pain, and anger can be used for good. You see, when everything is going well for us and we are content, we are not moved to action. We want to feel that way forever. We certainly don’t want to change the way things are and disturb our groove.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But when we are faced with strong emotions such as grief and anger, we are motivated to act. Surely we were not created to feel angry or sad only to remain stagnant. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When God placed the first of his creations in a beautiful garden, he intended for them to live in an environment where all they would experience was beauty, joy and peace. Nevertheless<i>, </i><em><span style="font-style: normal;">we can't</span></em><span class="st"> truly be happy </span><em><span style="font-style: normal;">if</span> </em><em><span style="font-style: normal;">we</span></em><span class="st">'ve never known </span><em><span style="font-style: normal;">pain</span></em><span class="st"><i>. </i></span><em><span style="font-style: normal;">We can't</span></em><span class="st"> truly </span><em><span style="font-style: normal;">feel joy if we</span></em><span class="st">'ve never felt heartbreak<i>.</i></span><span class="st"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As I reflect, I feel that I have been able to answer my own question. It's perfectly ok to take some baggage with me; I am going to need it. Would you ever go on a trip without packing the things you’ll need and keeping unnecessary items back home? The same principle applies here:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">I will use my baggage to store the lessons I have learned, throw away the excuses, and make extra room for the new experiences awaiting for me on the other side of that door.</span>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-54471222171786239262012-03-07T19:20:00.002-05:002012-03-07T19:36:25.809-05:00The Sun Will Come Out, Tomorrow<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The last couple of days have been a prime example of why I would NOT wish depression on even my worst enemy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The feelings of contentment and joy that have been a part of my life for the past few weeks have given way to sadness and despair. Still wearing a smile on my face, I manage to get up and go to work and give it my all. I’ve managed to come home and carry out my household duties. My kids ask me what’s wrong and get frustrated when I answer, “Nothing. I’ll be fine.”</span> <br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The truth is that while it could be worse, I am dealing with some issues that have me feeling down. Some of them are out of my control, others are self-imposed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank God prayer and lots of tears have kept me from falling apart altogether. Last night I read a passage in the Bible that renewed my hope: “<span class="text">Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time,<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></sup>casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:6-7) </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Depression has a way of making us worry unnecessarily about things that are beyond our control. The “why” questions and the “what if’s”. The uncertainties of life. Feeling sad but not really being able to pin down a specific reason as to why. Wanting to have someone hold you in their arms, but looking around at an empty house.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I realize that I have much to be thankful for. I am not discounting that. I do appreciate my friends and those who call, text or give me a loving hug. But that is the twisted reality of this disease – feeling unhappy despite all of the good things going on in your life. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know this fleeting storm will pass. As Annie used to say, “The sun will come out, tomorrow.” In the meantime, I will just have to put up with the rain.</span>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-53484754406972301992012-03-01T16:43:00.012-05:002012-03-01T20:14:44.123-05:00My Fragrant FlowerFew vines rival the jasmine plant for beauty and fragrance. The jasmine plant produces beautiful clusters of flowers that can be smelled from a few feet away. The delicate jasmine flower opens only at night. The name Jasmine derives from Persian origin. It means “<i>fragrant flower</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.” It also happens to be my daughter’s name. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Respectful. Poised. Beautiful. Intelligent. Confident. Humble. Tenacious. Straightforward. <br />
<br />
Those are only a few of the adjectives I immediately think of when I think about my daughter. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Notice how I used the word “tenacious” instead of stubborn. ☺ From day one my daughter established her own rules. I was two weeks overdue when she finally decided it was time to enter this world. I was in labor for 24 hours – every time a contraction would lower her into the birthing canal, she would go back up as soon as it was over. Then, when the doctors said that I would have to deliver her via cesarean section, she chose to come out on her own. <br />
<br />
<br />
Jasmine is probably not aware of this, but I look up to her. I admire her strength and honesty. I appreciate her humble demeanor despite her notable beauty. I wish I would have half of the organizational resourcefulness that she does.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I have learned many lessons from my daughter. Jasmine speaks her mind wherever she is. You see, she doesn’t just say what people want to hear, she tells them exactly what she is thinking. She is not malicious or rude about it. She is merely sincere. With Jasmine you never have to feel deceived or lied to. If someone asks her, “Does this look right on me?” and it doesn’t, she will not try to sugarcoat it. She will say, “You should not wear that.” <br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">She loves children and is very good with them. They always seem to gravitate towards her. She can care for them in the most nurturing of ways and keep them entertained for hours. Nevertheless, when it comes time to discipline she pulls no punches. She is not afraid of correcting inappropriate behavior. She is a great teacher and mentor.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Jasmine immerses herself fully into everything she does. At home she always took her chores seriously; Jasmine will be the first to tell you that she has been doing her own laundry since she was 7. I was spoiled during the summertime when she was on vacation from school. I would come home from work and my entire house would be spotless!<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">All throughout school Jasmine earned awards, honors, and even completed college credits before she graduated high school. She holds the record for being the only student in a particular teacher’s class to get a 100% on a research paper. I will never forget the time in elementary school when she played the lead role of “Granny” in a play based on the tale of Little Red Riding Hood. I was so proud. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Jasmine is 21 years old now, and has been working at the same place since she was 16. At her job she has been noticed for her initiative and impeccable work ethic. She treats the customers with respect and goes out of her way to help them. She helps her co-workers whenever it’s necessary, even though she is a coordinator. Her humble character does not permit her to feel as if she is above anyone else. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">As much as Jasmine dislikes it, I sometimes refer to her younger brother as her “son.” That usually evokes a grumble on her part, but even at a young age it was evident that she took good care of him. As I said before, she wasted no time telling him to act right when he would misbehave. She also spared no details when it came to caring for him. To this day she makes sure he eats. She makes sure he takes his medicines. “Do you have any homework?” she asks him. “Did you do what mom told you?” Thank God she is levelheaded, because the influence she has on him is almost scary! I jokingly say that if she were to tell him to go rob a bank he would probably do it, no questions asked. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Reflecting on what I have written makes me realize something: 21 years ago God sent me a lifetime supply of my own personal fragrant flowers in the form of my daughter. The world is a little brighter because she’s in it. I am blessed beyond words to have the privilege of being called her mother. </div></div>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-81051501072717807712012-02-21T17:14:00.001-05:002012-02-21T23:19:59.989-05:00I Can...& I Will<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My son Damian, who will turn 18 this year, recently expressed an interest in martial arts. Your first thought might be, “What’s the big deal?” Well, if you knew the odds that my son has had to go up against you would realize just what a big deal it really is.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I will go back to when my son was 2. At that tender age, he cut his forehead open due to jumping on the bed. When I say that he cut his forehead open, I mean you could see cartilage. If it wouldn’t have been for my wonderful blessing of a daughter who (only being 6 years old at the time) calmly got me towels and called my sister, I would not have been able to keep it together. (I did fall apart, but it could have been worse.) What was amazing to me was that my son stopped crying right away. Even at that age he was already demonstrating his resolve. During the rest of his years I was forced to grow accustomed to more bumps, bruises, and stitches, like the time when he fell at school and cut his chin open.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When Damian was 5 years old I enjoyed helping him with his Kindergarten homework and activities. He learned how to read when he was 4, and was already a fairly good speller. The only thing that concerned me was his constant daydreaming. I would often have to repeat things and re-direct him. I was also concerned about the way he would pronounce certain letters. Whenever he would get frustrated he would quit and say, “I can’t.” I would always tell him, “Repeat after me – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I can and I will</i>!” I made him repeat it enough of times that he began to automatically correct himself whenever he’d start to utter, “I can’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Unbeknownst to me at the time was that he was suffering from partial hearing loss due to fluid build-up in his ears. He had to have his tonsils and adenoids removed. He never once complained. If anything, he loved the fact that he could eat all of the ice cream he wanted for a whole week! I no longer had to repeat things to him and his speech greatly improved. However, his daydreaming only got worse.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When it was time for his next physical I decided I would mention this to his pediatrician. As luck would have it he did his usual stare off into space. I quickly pointed it out to his doctor who then turned around, looked at me, and said, “I think your son is having an absence seizure, a form of epilepsy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Epilepsy? My 5-year-old son? Not possible! After all, the only other person I had ever seen with epileptic attack was my father, and he would fall and foam at the mouth. Unfortunately, the epilepsy diagnosis was confirmed after further testing. Now he would have to be subjected to a medication regiment. Once again, he never complained. I was actually impressed at how quickly he learned how to swallow his pills. Epilepsy never really slowed Damian down. The medications worked very well at keeping the seizures at bay. Even when he did get one he would just stare for a few seconds.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In between 5 & 9 years old Damian was also diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, or ADHD. In addition, a learning disability would surface the following year. Again, this did not keep my son down. God blessed him with a great memory. He had no problem memorizing multiplication and division tables. He was two grade levels above in spelling, and was a very good reader. What was even more remarkable was that he read fluently in both English and Spanish. As for his ADHD, I told myself that I would simply have to learn to adapt my reactions to his conduct. I would rely on patience and behavioral interventions rather than subject him to even more medication. Never once did my son complain about feeling inferior or different. He always tried hard and wore a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The summer of Damian’s 10<span style="font-size: small;"><sup>th</sup> birthday it finally felt like everything was under control. We had just finished building our dream home outside of the city. Now he and his sister would have enough yard space in which to play and run around. They could invite their friends over and make childhood memories. Regrettably, one of those memories would prove to be a very painful one for all of us, especially for my son.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>An innocent game of baseball turned into a life-changing moment. My ex-husband and I were returning from the store when my daughter ran over to the car exclaiming, “Mom, Damian’s had an accident!” The rest of what came out of her mouth still penetrates me as sharply as it did that day. We had only been in our newly built home for a week. The evidence of construction was still visible all around the development, including unprotected rebars (steel rods used to reinforce concrete.) One of those rebars punctured my son’s right eye when he bent down to pick up a ball.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Everything surrounding this incident seemed so surreal. I had no idea what to expect when I entered the house. There lay my son, holding a paper towel over his eye as calm as could be. He wasn’t crying, he wasn’t complaining. I immediately thought “Whew! It doesn’t seem to be as bad as I thought.” That was until I took the paper towel off. His eye did not resemble an eye. I wanted to fall to my knees, but his calm demeanor gave me strength. Of course, I also knew all along that God was undoubtedly behind both of our strength.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My son bravely walked to the car, holding on to the paper towel over his eye. We took him to the local hospital hoping they would patch him up and send him home. The emergency room doctor took one look at him and said, “We can’t help him here. He needs to go to Hershey Med.” (Penn State Hershey Medical Center has been recognized as one of the best hospitals in the nation.) The seriousness of the situation quickly began to sink in. The specialist at Hershey told us that it was “the worst eye injury” he had ever seen. We were told that my son would most likely lose his eye and needed to get an artificial implant. How on earth do you relay this news to a child?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Emergency surgery was done to close the gap in his eye. He had lost his lens, all of the fluid in his eye (vitreous humour), and severely damaged his iris and cornea. Miraculously, he did not lose his eye. He was even able to see colors and shadows! Another surgery was performed in order to improve the outward appearance of the eye. This was bittersweet due to the fact that the cornea transplanted onto my son’s eye came from an 18-year-old boy who had died in a car accident in Iowa.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damian’s resiliency shone through once again. His main concern while recuperating in the hospital? Whether or not they would allow him to play video games! I also recall the time several weeks later when I reminded him of his least favorite chore – throwing out the garbage. His response? “Mooomm, you know the doctor said I can’t put pressure on my eye!” My comeback? “You don’t use your eyes to pick up the trash bag, you use your hands.” We both laughed, but he still had to do his chore. You see, I refused to let my son’s physical handicap become an emotional one.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My son ultimately lost all sight in his right eye. He lacks depth perception, spatial orientation, and eye-hand coordination. I think somebody forgot to tell him. Haha! Why do I say that? Well, one time I decided to close one eye and try to go about my business. I was so uncoordinated. Not too long after his injury we were outside playing football. I threw the ball with one eye closed. While I thought I had thrown the ball straight ahead, I had actually thrown it to the opposite side of my field of vision! Damian, on the other hand, always threw it completely straight.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Although 8 years have passed since that day, we still deal with it daily. He has to use drops in that eye for the rest of his life. Two years ago it began to bleed internally for no known reason. The pressure in his eye dropped and there was talk again about him needing to get an artificial eye. This time around he was told of the impending result. Damian didn’t really talk about it, but he didn’t complain either. Thankfully the pressure has been brought back to normal through the use of drops (of course I know that it’s really through the hand of God.) Currently, Damian is doing well…almost.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As he approaches 18, he will be undergoing major chest surgery. He needs to have a steel rod inserted in his sternum. When he entered his teens his breastbone began to grow inward, causing a deep dent in his chest. Not only does it have a sunken appearance, but also leaves little room for his heart and lungs. It could potentially cause his heart to shift and become displaced.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We have been warned. While complications are typically minimum, the pain following the surgery is not. At first Damian did not want to go through with the surgery. I told him that he would be ok because they would give him sufficient pain medication. His response to that? “Oh, I’m not worried about the pain. I just don’t want that metal thing inside me.” Ha! I should have known that he would not be afraid of the pain.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Writing this prompted me to look up the meaning of the name Damian. I was not in the least bit surprised at what I found: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Damian: Greek origin. Means “to conquer, master, overcome, tame.” </i>Of course!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As I sit here proudly watching him perform his karate moves in class, smiling and throwing kicks and punches into the air, I can almost sense what is going through his mind…<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">“I CAN...& I WILL!”</span></em></span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p><em>PS = Stay tuned for next week's blog where I will be writing about the other inspiration in my life...my sweet daughter Jasmine.</em></o:p></span></div>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-74231944701363248362012-02-12T22:24:00.000-05:002012-02-12T22:24:32.808-05:00Worth Fighting For<o:p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="messagebody"><em><span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif";">Love: </span>an intense emotion of affection, warmth, fondness, and regard towards a person or thing. </em><span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif";">(The definition of love as stated in the dictionary.) I would rather think of it this way: </span></span></span></o:p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="messagebody"><br />
</span></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="messagebody"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="messagebody"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span class="messagebody"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif";">“Love is not a fight, but it is something worth fighting for.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="messagebody"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif";">I posted that sentence on my Facebook status last week after having heard it in the lyrics to a worship song. Even though the song was not focused on romantic love, I chose to pair that small phrase with the love between couples due to the fact that Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. </span></span><br />
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<span class="messagebody"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif";">February 14 - a day set aside for people who want to profess their love for someone else in a slightly more profound manner than they normally do throughout the rest of the year. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A dozen roses here, a box of chocolates there, and wedding proposals timed just right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif";">In my case, romantic love has proved to be elusive. The feeling of loneliness that sometimes accompanies that would depress me every now and then. I even remember saying that if I ever caught cupid he would go missing. Ha! All joking aside, in time I have learned a very valuable lesson:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>treasure the loves that I do have in my life, namely, my God, my Savior Jesus Christ, my loving family, and friends. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif";">Valentine’s Day may be a day set aside for love, but the remaining 364 days of the year should be nothing less. Cherish and nurture the loves in your life, it is the only way they will grow. </span></div></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"></div></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"></div>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-34861414824378520142012-01-26T21:44:00.000-05:002012-01-26T21:44:35.034-05:00I Love Me...Most Days<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A couple of days ago my counselor asked me a most unusual question. “Does Maribel love Maribel?” he asked. I hesitated before I answered, “<em>Most days</em>.” That question got me to thinking: how much DO we actually love ourselves?</span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am not referring to an arrogant, self-centered love. Absolutely not. What I am referring to is a genuine, self-caring attitude towards our own being. After all, if we cannot love ourselves, how are we supposed to love anyone else? Simple mathematics here, you cannot give away what you do not possess to begin with.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We are all loveable in one way or another. I suppose I love myself to some extent but the fact that I hesitated before I answered my counselor, and the fact that I did not declare a convincing “yes,” made me take a deeper look at some of the things I can be loveable for.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u>I have a strong character</u> – I survived poverty, losing both parents to cancer, the loss of my marriage, and parenting two children on my own. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u>I am persistent</u> – I stayed in college for 8 years all the while working full-time because I was not going to give up on my dream of attaining my Bachelor’s Degree.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u>I am resourceful</u> – I grew up poor and therefore know how to survive with very little. God provides all of my necessities, anything extra I consider a luxury. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u>I am funny</u> – not only do I love to laugh, I love to play pranks too. </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And <u>I have a comforting presence</u> – I am very good at helping others remain calm in the midst of chaos.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Before you go to bed tonight I challenge you to make a list of 5 things that make you a loveable person. I am sure there are much more than 5, so by all means write them down too. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Can’t think of at least 5 things? Then you, my friend, need to start loving yourself. The more you do, the longer that list will become.</span></div>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-78120078904119114912012-01-20T22:18:00.000-05:002012-01-20T22:18:44.242-05:00A Decision I Regretted<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">December 18, 1982 – a date that forever will be engraved in my mind. Why I decided not to go that day is something that has haunted me for years. I doubt I will ever be able to come up with a good reason, but at least now I am able to confront it.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My father was almost 46 when I was born, and it was as if he waited all of his life for me. I was his only child and he treated me as such. I was the ultimate daddy’s little girl. There was nothing my father would not do for me. Although he only lived for the first 13 years of my life, he gave me enough love to last a lifetime.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Was it always that perfect? Not if you count the times when he would leave on a Friday and not come home until the next day or so. Then there were the times when he could not pay attention to me because he and my mother were too busy fighting. And what about the time he left me at my aunt’s house and did not return until 3 months later?</span></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I suppose I chose not to dwell on those events, but rather on the good ones. The Saturdays my father would take me downtown and buy me anything I asked for. The times he would call me over to sit on his lap while he read the newspaper. The day he bought me my first bike and taught me how to ride it. Lazy days spent at the lake fishing. Christmastime when he would take me along to pick out a real tree. And one of my favorites: taking me into his arms and "hiding " me from my mom whenever I was naughty.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, my father doted on me – perhaps to a fault. I was completely dependent on his love. </span></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When he was diagnosed with cancer I was told, “Your dad has a terminal illness. He only has a few months to live.” What the hell was that supposed to mean to an 11 year old? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What kind of cruel joke was life trying to play on me? I went into complete denial. No one had taught me how to live without my father.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My father lived for about 2 more years after that, and spent much of the time in and out of hospitals. The last few months of his life he never left. He spent my 13<span style="font-size: small;"><sup>th</sup> birthday in there, as well as his 59<sup>th </sup>(our birthdays were only 8 days apart.) At first I would go to see him daily, then I would only go every other day. I was young, and my mother thought it was too much for me. Regrettably, I did not understand the gravity of the situation, nor was I ready to confront it.</span></span></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For years I replayed that day over and over again in my mind. I felt ignored as my aunt came over to give my mother the news that my father had passed away that evening. Nobody was telling me directly, I had to overhear it. I don’t think I believed anybody for days. After all, the last time I saw him he was very much alive. Besides, even though it was my turn to visit him that day I had decided to stay home. I needed one more chance to visit him at the hospital. There was no way he could be gone.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was never truly aware of just how much that decision had affected my life until now. I regretted it for years. I knew my father was terminally ill, but I never got the chance to say good-bye properly. I never really had closure. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Letting go of the blame, letting go of the guilt, and holding on to the love that we shared were imperative in order for my healing to begin. I may never know why I did not go to see my father that day, but I will always know that he loved me unconditionally.</span></span></div>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-8150104923912292762012-01-14T16:07:00.000-05:002012-01-14T16:07:16.486-05:00Gentle Reminders<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I woke up the other morning and looked outside my window I was surprised by the light coat of snow covering the ground. I was suddenly reminded that we are indeed in the middle of winter. It was difficult to picture that since the temperatures have been relatively mild. As a matter of fact, the day before the light snowfall the temperature hovered around 52 degrees. This experience made me think of just how similar life can be. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Life sends us gentle reminders, much like that light coat of snow on a cold January day. We may find ourselves in the midst of one of life’s seasons, yet momentarily lose sight of our environment. Circumstances around us appear contradictory. We have reasons for which to be thankful, but we tend to forget because of everything we see around us.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Perhaps we are battling loneliness, pain, fear, or uncertainty. We may be facing a loss, heartbreak, disappointment, or an illness. Those conditions can make it difficult to remember the happier times of seasons past. We might find ourselves thinking that nothing will ever take us back to a more joyful place. Then, without any warning, the reminders arrive: a phone call or visit from a friend, the lyrics to a song, just the right message at church, much awaited good news… </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All of a sudden we are gently reminded that this season will soon pass; springtime is inevitable.</span></div>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696536084289119330.post-45820714758908843012012-01-09T20:21:00.000-05:002012-01-09T20:21:53.779-05:00Tomorrow<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tomorrow - a day following today; a period of time in the future. A measurement of time we all talk about yet not guaranteed to any one of us.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I suppose it is simply in our human nature to think about the future as if it will always be there. This is evident by the fact that we are beings who are always planning. From the time we are old enough to realize we have choices we begin to plan our lives. In our younger years we plan weeks in advance what we are going to wear for the first day of school. In college we plan ahead for graduation and our future career goals. We plan our wedding days, our childbirths, our vacations, and our retirements. But, how many of us plan for our deaths?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Truth is time is only infinite to God. We, on the other hand, are finite creatures. We dream, we plan, we hope, we realize goals but at the end of the day our time here on earth is limited. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Do any of the following comments sound familiar?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“We will have our first child after we pay off all of our debts.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Maybe I will visit my family next year.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I wish I could do that.” Or “I have always wanted to go there.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Sorry honey, I won’t be home for dinner. I have to work overtime.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I could go on and on listing phrases that at one time or another we have all either repeated or heard. I don’t want to spend too much time on that though. Instead, my plea to all of you is to take a long, hard look at your situation. Can we truly afford to do things only when the “time is just right?” Are you living the life you want to live? Are you preoccupied with what others might say, or is the experience uniquely yours? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our journey on this earth may ultimately come to an end, but we can make the time in between a beautiful occasion. Your happiness rests in your own hands. Your dreams can only be realized by you. Don’t ever let anyone take that away from you.</span></div>Bellezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06324411245658242435noreply@blogger.com2