Like Watching Someone Disappear

I remember my dad’s dad, my grandfather, holding me in his lap on a night when I was five… or six, or seven. My parents had gone away for a vacation and I had been whimpering in my bed. Homesick, momsick, dadsick… I had just wanted my. people. back. My grandfather had heard my quiet cries. The floorboards creaked as I heard him get up from his chair and make his way he across the room, slowly, so as not to wake my brother and sister. He bent down and easily scooped me right up. He brought me back to his favorite rocking chair and held me tight as I squished my favorite stuffed dog right into my chest. Even then, he smelled like old spice and coffee, aftershave and peppermint. He softly sang in my ear, my favorite song of his. A hilarious rendition of “Ain’t it Fun to Be Crazy.” Normally he did it with gusto, but that night, he sang it slow and sweet, almost whispering. He rocked and rocked, he made small circles on my back, he sang, and, eventually, my whimpers faded. And I slept.

That was over 20 years ago now. I took my grandfather to an appointment the other day and I haven’t really stopped thinking about it since. He’s had a hard time these last few months. A hard time figuring things out, a hard time remembering. He has dementia. I didn’t know what to expect when I first heard those words, uttered not too many weeks ago. But I see the signs of it now, I understand just a little bit more every time I see him. “It’s a really hard thing when the mind goes first… This disease is so tough.” That’s what I had overheard the therapist say to my grandmother. And my grandmother, my Nana, when Grpa was in his appointment, had turned to me and told me that she feels like no one understands, unless they’d been through it. None could understand what it’s like to caregive for someone who is horribly ill. “It’s like watching someone disappear.” Her eyes fill with tears. All I can do is nod and wish. Oh, how I wished I didn’t know. How I wished I could unsee some of the things I’ve seen. How I wished I could unhear the things I’ve heard. But then, my grandmother might not see me as she does now, see me as someone who just might get it. So I stop wishing. And I just listen.

January 7th marked two years since my husband, Nick, passed from this earth. But October 4th has actually been the real tough day for me as far as remembering goes. For October 4th 2012, was the day that I realized I would watch my sweet Nick disappear from my world. Nick reminded me of a star on so many occasions those last few years. Like one of those stars that you hear about that shines so bright and pure that it just can’t possibly go on forever. So it ebbs and it flows, it shimmers, shines, darkens and then it gives one last hurrah. You hold your breath as you wait for it to light up again, but for all the times you’ve seen it before, this time… it never does. It forever fades from the sky.

I don’t know how to comfort those that hurt anymore than I used to. I still don’t know what to say. But, if the years and my grandfather’s generosity with me as a young girl have taught me anything… It’s that sometimes all a hurting person needs is someone who is willing to scoop up the sadness and quietly sit with it until it too finally starts to fade.

We Bought a Home!

WE GOT A HOUSE!!

There was a time… not very long ago… when I decided that I would be just FINE. No matter what. And, I was.

I was just fine with so little of what the world thinks women my age need to be happy. I knew I didn’t NEED a husband, I didn’t NEED a house, and I didn’t NEED a normal full-time job. I knew that the ONLY thing I truly NEEDED was JESUS. And, at risk of sounding like a religious freak, I’ve honestly found this to be true. He is truly all that I need. He is truly, as odd as it may sound, ENOUGH.

You guys… I’ve been told over and over again (especially since finding a new, wonderful, beautiful love) that I am so lucky. And, while I do agree, I HAVE to say that I was lucky and blessed BEFORE all this. And, no, I don’t mean because I had the memory a husband who loved me, or because I had a bomb career, or owned a beautiful house… (though those things were blessings as well). But, I was blessed… Because, I chose to see what was real.

I was blessed because…

**I KNEW that the love of Jesus would hold me, no matter what this life held for me.**

So much of finding new love, new light, and new joy in this life is about CHOICE. These choices aren’t always easy to make.

LIVING after MAJOR LOSS is DAMN HARD. Heck, living life on this planet is equally as hard. People are broken. Times can be dark. Choosing to LOVE and LET LOVE can be the hardest choice you’ll ever make. The choice to LIVE instead of cower could bring a person to their knees.

Because:
Love is the *perfect* gateway for hurt.
Choosing to live will result in gut-wrenching changes.
Going after the things that your soul has always longed for will open you up to criticism and doubt.

Yes, God HAS blessed me. But, I had to make a VERY conscious decision to allow Him to do so. I had to make a decision, out loud, to let Him take over, no matter what. I had to DECIDE that I would be happy with WHATEVER He provided. Whatever the next step on His path for me might be. And just around the corner of that choice to live my life, God has lined up some of those blessings that I already decided I could and would live without.

A&J3

Jay and I will be married this June (wooohooo!) AND (we are so happy to announce) we’ve purchased a HOME that is scheduled to be completed in May!!!

(The story of how and when we landed this beautiful place is a doozy… It’ll need its own blog post. Holy smokes! God is TOO good!)

Tears of joy have been running rampant as 2015 came to a close…. Equally so, tears of loss, as we approach two years without my sweet husband,Nick Magnotti. Life is so much of both kinds of tears. Always a contrast. Always happy with sad.

But, the good and the bad, that beautiful contrast, is what makes everything in life SO MUCH CLEARER. It gives DEPTH to that which used to be flat. It gives EXPANSION and SPACE to things that used to feel cramped.

I still don’t understand so much of the bad, but I will thank God anyway. I will thank Him for that which I do understand and I will thank Him for the hundreds of things that I don’t. Because, in the end, I know that God holds my life in His hands. I know His plan for me is beautiful and full of hope and promise. I will thank Him and praise Him on days filled with pain and on the days that are filled with unfathomable Joy, for He is worthy to be praised!! heart emoticon heart emoticon

Love ya’ll. Happy 2016!!! Cheers! xox

Think You Married the Wrong Person?

I haven’t really been around for very long at all, so I don’t claim to be an expert by any means, but I’ve experienced a thing or two…

Last night, I attended a wedding of a dear family friend. Two beautiful people joined together by law and by God. Before the ceremony began, thoughts of my own wedding day swirled through my mind.

A BEAUTIFUL BEGINNING

August 16, 2008 is a date that I will never forget. It was magical, perfect and I felt God’s presence and blessings so strongly that day. I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be, exactly when I was supposed to be there. Like a perfectly timed song on the radio, my fairytale had come and everything was as it was supposed to be.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Nick and Alyssa

When we were dating, Nick and I could make anything *feel* magical. But, it wasn’t because we were doing anything particularly special. It was because we APPRECIATED the time we spent with each other, and realized what a blessing the other was. I remember the day the picture above was taken. We simply went to a park after work. We took pictures and laid in the grass and talked about our childhood, our lives, our futures. Nothing was particularly romantic, but it felt romantic as ever. It was ALL mindset.

But, feelings can change. Feelings are fickle.

And, if we aren’t careful, negative feelings CAN rot our most precious gifts….

As the months and years of our marriage began to pass us by, I am ashamed to say, we let the magic fade. Nothing changed about our marriage, really. Nothing changed about the romance. But, Nick’s mindset had shifted a bit, and I had let my mindset change entirely too much.

Instead of simply realizing the blessing of *being together,* we focused on what we wanted next. A bigger house, nicer clothes, more expensive cars…

Suddenly instead of the home-made romance I had cherished before, I came to a place where I had decided I wanted NEEDED more.

I fell for the lie that materialistic things *equal* worth (and, even, your marriage’s worth). I lived in a place where exotic vacations, expensive jewelry, and fancy surprise date nights with red-carpet-worthy dresses were a sure sign of the level of adoration that your husband actually held for you. (Or, so I thought.)

It was horrible. UGLY, really. I don’t like sharing the rather hideous parts of myself (who does?) and I’m ashamed for some of these things I’m about to share. But, it’s the truth… And, though I don’t believe sharing my story makes me any less guilty (only God’s grace does that), I do believe that sharing my story may help someone else.

THIRD YEAR’S THE CHARM?

A week of particularly petty fights had lead up to our third anniversary. Nick had acted like he hadn’t planned anything for our anniversary, and I thought that he possibly was planning some sort of surprise. That there was some kind of plan. Along came our anniversary, a weekday… I went to work and didn’t get any flowers delivered. I came home and didn’t have a card waiting for me. Nick arrived home and asked where I wanted to go to dinner. He thought we should go out but didn’t want to get too far away because he had to get up early for work the next day. So, after much argument, we settled on a small local restaurant in Monroe. Sure, it was the nicest one in town, but Monroe was tiny and this place welcomed construction workers after a long day on shift. I dressed up as best I could, and without a second glance from Nick, we trekked out to the restaurant. The dinner went by uneventfully, like any other night, other than the fact that I spilled my drink completely into my lap.

Ripping disappointment seared through my heart and I felt sorely unappreciated. It hurt. And, I sulked all the way home and when we pulled in the driveway, I ran upstairs and locked myself in my walk-in closet (girl didn’t know how good she had it). Nick was apologetic but also slightly confused. After all, he had asked me multiple times that week what I wanted to do. I had hinted that he should surprise but never came right out and said it. And, let’s give the guy a break, he was 24 years old and pretty new at this whole marriage thing.

When Nick walked away, done with talking through a solid wood door, I rolled into the fetal position and cried out to God. I wondered allowed. “God, did I marry the wrong person? Does he even love me anymore?”

In hindsight, I see so much that was wrong in my thinking. I had put all the pressure on him and hadn’t taken any responsibility for making *him* feel loved either. No, he hadn’t surprised me with much, but all I had gotten him was a card at the grocery story on my weekly shopping trip and expected him to put together everything else. I wasn’t clear with him on what I wanted or expected and, honestly, I hadn’t tried hard at all to appreciate him for the last week, let alone the last few months.

But, that’s all hindsight. At the time, I thought it was a real possibility that I had made a mistake. Or, God had made a mistake. And, that maybe Nick and I weren’t meant to be together after all.

Fast forward 5 weeks later, I’m sobbing in Nick’s arms on our living room couch. He’s just been diagnosed with terminal cancer and I realize that my entire world is being threatened.

So, Did You Marry The Right Person Or Not?

Let me tell you something…. If you have ever thought “Did I marry the right person?” or you are thinking it now…

HOLDING ON to your spouse during the trying times and the questions is what marriage is supposed to be about. Better or worse. Sickness or health. Fancy cars or beaters… You are in this TOGETHER.

When you said your vows, your spouse BECAME God’s will for your life.

Marriage is a sacrifice. You won’t often get what you want. You may even have days or weeks or months where you are struggling for a reason to stay. But, if you do, when you do… I can tell you that it will make all the difference in your life and in your husband’s or wife’s.

A BEGINNING AND AN END

In a short five years, I experienced the BEGINNING and the END of a marriage. We had ups and downs, like most people do…. though I would say that we had many many more joys that difficulties.

My marriage started after I stood on a stage, in front of my family and friends and pledged my life and love to the most wonderful man I had ever known. It started when, with my best friend’s hand in mine and a smile spread wide across my face, we walked down the aisle announced as Mr. and Mrs. Nick Magnotti. We were so excited for the life to come. The decades we would surely have together.

Hello. One… Two… Three… Four… Five. Goodbye.

My marriage ended five years later when I laid down on my husband’s hospice bed in the master bedroom we had shared. His fragile body had barely made an imprint on the mattress, but alone and curled up, I tried to fit into it. I got as small as I physically possibly could, trying to disappear. Noises emanated from my soul that I had never heard before. The pain burned white-hot in the middle of my being. The funeral company had taken my husband away and nothing of him at all was left.

The beginning and the end. So very different. SO. MUCH. JOY. and then SO. MUCH. PAIN.

I may have given up fancy trips and sparkly jewelry by marrying a sweetheart of a mechanic, but my GREATEST blessing was giving up my everything to care for that man in his last days.

On his worst cancer days… When I had to wash him, feed him, turn him, help him with his medications, clean up after him… The days where I didn’t take a second for myself, those days I saw MORE of what it was like to be in a REAL MARRIAGE with REAL LOVE than I could have ever seen on a trip to the Caribbean. 

So, whether you are sacrificing a *little* of yourself each day, or giving up your everything for your spouse, please see it as the blessing that it is. Recognize that our time together is not promised. That YOU ARE VERY MUCH meant for your spouse. And, that you never know what God’s plan is for your life.

Your spouse may act like they don’t need you today, but maybe there’s a day coming when their life, their soul, will depend on you.

And, maybe today, it feels like you would be better off without your spouse, but if you go, I can assure you that you’ll have days you wished you had someone. 

Do YOUR part.

Hold up your end of the bargain.

LOVE with ALL that you have, even if it seems like the other person isn’t trying.

It’s an amazing, AMAZING privilege just to have another person walking by your side in this crazy lonely world. Try not to forget it.<3

 

We Don’t Have to Get It

Somedays it feels like my heart splits right open…

Yesterday a SENSELESS shooting and 13 DEAD, just a state away.
This morning the news of CANCER returning to a friend’s husband who is “Daddy” to two young girls.
Today, the DISCOVERY of a high schooler who is afflicted by horrible tumors consuming her abdomen.

I DONT GET IT!!!

I hear the news of all three and I can’t help but shout, “NO!” and “WHY?!” My voice crackles and splits. I didn’t realize that my heart would sound so shaken, so bent.

Some days…. Things feel HOPELESS. Things feel DARK. They feel scary-as-hell. Some days, it feels like we are ALL DOOMED.

But, somehow… After prayer, reflection… I can still find THE LIGHT. Let me share… I read this in today’s devotional, by Ann Voskamp​:

When things go wrong and we are pushed outside our comfort zone, it is a GIFT. BUT!!!…. “Can you really say that to the girl who doesn’t wear her engagement ring anymore, to the beautiful mother whose husband left and the cancer has come, to the bent widow sitting next to the empty chair? Can you really say that to them, to the world? That the greatest gift we can ever receive is the gift of losing our earthly security and comfort? So that we can unwrap the intimacy of the Savior and His heavenly comfort. I swallow hard…”

And, so do I, Ann… I swallow hard. And the tears come. These emotions all CHOKED up in my chest, in my HEART.

I AM THE WIDOW.
I AM THE MOTHER WHO LOST.
I HAVE EXPERIENCED “CANCER CAME BACK.”

I’ve lost EVERY security I thought I had when I lost my 27 year old husband and father to my daughter.

I’ve had my PEACE falter. I’ve had my FAITH shaken. I’ve had my world SHATTER. I’ve had my life IMPLODE.

So…. Can I say that people should be thankful? Heck no. I would never say that… Not to them. But, I can say, that after going through it all, I AM thankful. I still hurts something awful but…

I. AM. THANKFUL.

I consider myself blessed.

WHY?!?!

Because, NOW I KNOW!

I KNOW that I can do ANYTHING with God by my side.
I KNOW that God TRULY WILL NOT leave me.
I KNOW THAT GOD. HE… IS… ENOUGH.

Praying for all of those affected by loss today. All of those affected by lost dreams, prayers unanswered, lost loves, lost children, broken hearts, broken homes, unwanted diagnoses… The list goes on and on. But, I am praying for YOU. Praying that you come to a place one day, where YOU SEE and YOU KNOW the truths.

Someday I hope you can see that even though this world sometimes doesn’t make a flipping bit of sense to us… That WE CAN TRUST GOD. That He GETS IT. And, HE LOVES US, DEARLY… Even though sometimes it can be so undeniably hard to fathom.

My heart aches for you. It aches for us. God, be with us.

BE STRONG. DO YOUR BEST. BE BRAVE. The world needs to see your SMILE today, if you can. <3

A Morning of Heavy Light

In the growing up and the knowing more, you realize that life isn’t really about figuring it out. That maybe it’s more about just going through it, together, with everyone else who is doing the same. Sharing in the good and the bad. The heavy and the light. And, the heavy light.

I sit on my mother’s couch, in her one bedroom apartment, reading my devotional, waiting for my sleeping daughter to wake. We are four days away from moving into my next new beginning, the home I aim to create for my sweet daughter and I. I read, I reflect on the things that I’m thankful for. I start my day with positive intention. But, my thoughts wander, as they do some mornings, to the people who are struggling to survive. The ones without the things that I am thanking Him for. What about those without power? Without water? Without the hope for health? The ones walking the cancer battles with their family now? What about those who simply never experience the feeling of safety? The ones living despite ISIS? The people who live out our nightmares? How do we help them? What can we do?

Austyn’s cries of “Momma” from the next room interrupt my thoughts. I push them aside. And I smile. She needs me and I can give her safety and warm fuzzy feelings. Though I sometimes feel desperate for others that I can’t help, I know what I can do, right now. I can help her.

As I lift my smiling girl out of her makeshift bedroom at Nama’s (which is a crib in a walk-in closet, exactly) she immediately requests the thing that she needs most in the moment. “Momma!” She uses her hands to make sure my eyes find hers. “Nack?” (“Nack” means “Snack”.) I assure her, a snack is most assuredly waiting. And, it’s called breakfast, in fact. Momma made oatmeal.

I lie her down to change her (I hope to start potty-training soon, and there is actually a chance that I will miss this bit of her dependence on me). Once I finish, I lightly touch her side, where she’s the most ticklish, to see if she might be in the mood for a giggle or two. The room erupts with her contagious and beautiful laughter. Light seems to explode from her and fill the room, and the sounds are heaven. She sparkles. I can’t bear to let this moment pass.

If I can give my girl this much joy, with just one touch, I will stretch this moment until it becomes too thin. So, I nuzzle my face into her side. Her laughter bounces, echoes, she squirms and she loves it. Suddenly, there are tears pouring from my eyes. I am overflowing. I am laughing, but I am crying. The joy is light… and it is very unbearably heavy sometimes.

We get up and make our way to the kitchen. She, a giggling mess. Me attempting, quite poorly, not to confuse her with the conflicting emotions so evident on my face.

Her easy laughter reminds me so much of Nick. So much of the joy that lived inside him. Right under the surface. Easy and sure and ready to break free at a moment’s notice. I think that joy lives in each of us. Sometimes, we just have to dig a little deeper to find it. And, sometimes, we need someone else to coax it out of us… Sometimes it only takes one word. Sometimes it only takes one touch.

The adventure that is this life stretches ahead of us. Austyn’s virus that added a fever to her asthma is gone now. She is healthy. I am healthy. We walk ahead, not alone. With God in every movement, every breath, every sigh. He is here. He is in the light. In the heavy. He is in the laughter. And, the tears. And, I know that Nick’s in it all a little bit too. Those we love, truly, don’t ever really leave. 

The Light You’ve Been Searching For

My Baby Girl

I never thought I would be lying awake again, in the middle of the night, worried about the health of the one held dearest to me. No, Austyn is not “extremely” ill. But, she has been sick. And, this momma is having a hard time with it. And “hard” is most certainly an understatement.

She’s suffered from quite a few respiratory infections since she was little, with coughs seeming to hold on longer than they should. Over the course of the last few months, she has been sleeping with a cough on and off almost continuously. I’ve taken her to the doctors and done all that I could think of. They suspected childhood asthma and now, it’s all but been confirmed.

She also has some pretty nasty allergies. Tree pollen, grass, weeds, animal dander and yellow food dye 4 and 5. Her asthma seems to be induced by her allergies. When the pollen counts are high, her cough is much worse. I’ve been in the process of planning a move back to the Seattle area, and it seems that it couldn’t be coming at a better time (allergens are much less prevalent in the Pacific Northwest).

She will grow out of it, more than likely, the doctor suspects. She seems and acts fine during the day, smiley and cute as ever (albeit a bit overtired). But, some nights… the bad ones… like tonight… She coughs incessantly, no matter what I do. It feels as if I’ve stepped over the edge of a cliff and that the fall will never, ever stop.

I’ve been doing everything I can think of, everything I can find, I’ve taken her to the typical Western medicine doctors and to a Naturopath. I’m doing showers immediately after being outdoors, essential oils, cough medicines, chest rubs, and even a low dose of steroids (with extreme caution and after much internal debate). What less would I do for one that I love? No less than give anything and everything I own to make her well. Unfortunately, I’ve learned that, even everything you’ve got isn’t always enough.

Austyn Elizabeth

BRAVE BECAUSE…

People used to tell me when Nick was sick that I was, “So brave.” They said the same thing at his funeral. And again when I moved from Washington to Florida with my little girl. They tell me I’m brave now that I’m moving back. I don’t mean to be argumentative, but I normally respond with a “It’s not me.” Or, a “Not really.”

Because…. in all honesty…. there are days, and especially nights, that I just don’t feel brave at all. Or, any version of the word. I’m scared. I’m trembling. I’ve felt a few monumental losses so I know there is probably some overreaction here… but even my baby’s painful coughs rip right through my heart. Each one reminds me of what I’ve lost… Reminds me of what I could lose again.

So, how do I do it? How do I smile? How do I make it through the years of seemingly endless nights? Here’s the thing… The thing that brings me through. When I feel like I can’t do this. When I feel like I just can’t live this life filled with pain, suffering, loss and darkness. I look to the Light. 

LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS

It is in our deepest and darkest nights, that our Light can be brightest. We must only remember to look. 

The journey I’ve been on these last few (almost) five years has been nothing short of staggering. I’ve experienced things that I wouldn’t wish on the devil himself. But, I’ve also been blessed beyond my wildest dreams by coming to know the One that my soul lives for.

I’m still on this journey to figure out exactly who He is, because I don’t believe that journey ever ends… But, I’m working towards really knowing my Creator, my God, my Jesus. And, I can tell you one thing.

He is here. 

In the broken, bitter dark.

In the endless nights of tear stained pillowcases.

In the scraped knees and wheezing breaths of our babies.

Even in the horrendous massacres of our fellow brothers and sisters across the oceans.

He is here.

And, he is there… with you. Too. Right next to you… Right now.

Sometimes, He can feel like He’s a million miles away. (Believe me, I experience this, too.) But, most every time, I have found, especially as we’ve grown closer that… when I call on Him, when I tell Him that I need His bravery, His wisdom, His courage tonight… He ALWAYS answers me.

AND… When He speaks, His answers don’t echo from millions of miles away. They are soft words, breathed so near to my ear, that I’m sure I am wrapped in His embrace. 

So much of this world is hard. So much of it is broken. So much of it doesn’t make a damned bit of sense (I’m sorry for the language, but I mean, really!).

But, there is so much in this world in the way of Lightness, too. So much Bravery in His Glory. So much Honor in His Love. So much to Cherish in His Creation. Find the Light. Find Him…

Remember that it’s okay to ask for the Light. It’s okay to open your eyes and look. And, it’s okay if you are finally WILLING to SEE.

(*Sidenote: I fully understand that MANY parents have to deal with sicknesses, allergies, and asthma with their children… Or far worse. It breaks my heart. And I am so sorry if you are in that place with a child, or a loved one. May the Light guide you to peace.)

At Least I Am Moving

I want to change. I want to:

Slow down.
Be a better listener.
Be less concerned about others’ opinions and more concerned about God’s.
Have more fun.
Be a blessing.

I know I could do so many things better. So many things. I could be such a better person. When I pay attention to my thoughts… I can hear it. I can hear the person that I don’t want to be. The one that worries constantly, that judges others, that blames herself most of all. But, most of the time, I’m not paying attention to my thoughts. I’m just letting them run. Im just being “me.” Im just being my “normal” self. The self that I’ve become in twenty-seven years of living and sacrificing and striving and wanting.

As much as self-reflection hurts, as much as it stings… It’s necessary in this journey if we want to be better. It would be SO much easier for me to say, “Well, this is just who I am. I can be selfish, I can be jealous, I can be petty, and I can be stiff. I guess you all just have to deal with it.” But, I CAN also change.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s too late. I’m in my late-twenties (too funny! I totally just typed “mid-twenties” and realized that almost-twenty-eight is pretty far past that. Nice try, darlin!) and my life has shaped me. The culture I’ve grown up in, the parents I had, the situations I’ve faced, the deaths that I’ve seen, the books that I’ve read, the propaganda that flashes before my eyes, the truths I’ve experienced, the lies that I’ve trusted, the way my thoughts have twisted realities… the list goes on and on.

It’s true to a degree that no one can deny… that we are shaped by our circumstances. Not entirely, no. But, at least markedly. Growing up in the Seattle is different than growing up in Taiwan. Growing up in a nice house in a good neighborhood is different than growing up in a mobile home park governed by drug lords. Growing up with parents who cared and tried their best is different than growing up with parents who remained painfully disinterested.

We all have things that mark us. We all have things that scare us. Things that scar us.

Our choice is how much we heal. Our choice is what we do about it. Our choice is looking past what we “know.”

step it up

We can decide to unlearn the things our heart has grasped onto.

You CAN be loved again.

You CAN be happy.

You CAN succeed.

You CAN trust in the goodness of God, even when you are standing in the broken mess of your life.

So, you haven’t made it as far as you would like by now? Yeah. Me neither. You feel older than you’d like? You feel like you haven’t made a difference? You feel like time is passing too quickly and your soul isn’t catching up? I feel those things too.

But, no matter what you see, what you feel. If you try and believe it will work, you WILL make progress. I believe it.

Big changes can be so entirely overwhelming. How can I alter my fast-pace to a life lived in slow, trusting, seeing peace? How can I go from loud to quiet so others can have a voice? How can I stop caring what the world may think and start caring more about God? How can I have fun when I know the accidents that can occur when we let down our guard? How can I change from living every hour for myself to living every hour as a blessing to others?

You might have different things that you know you could improve on. Maybe you want to be a better person and to do that you know that changes must be made: to your health or your relationships or your thoughts.

Feel overwhelmed? Like the drastic end result that you are trying to achieve is just too far away, too far off from the person you are today? Just remember that God will help you if you ask. We can’t sit back and not make changes and expect God to do all the work, but we CAN do the work with God by our side. All it takes is a prayer and a single step. Every. Step. Counts.

Even if you take only one step forward and end up falling two steps back… at least you are moving. 

I know what I want. And if it takes me a lifetime of trying… only to eventually fail, at least I’ll know that I tried. One baby step at a time. Focused on the God who tells me I can walk on water. I can trod on my mistakes. I can step on the lessons I’ve learned and use them to propel me ever-forward.

I believe in a God who is constant in His ability to love us…. His love molds me, teaches me, shows me.

I don’t HAVE to be better for Him. He loves me already. I don’t HAVE to do anything, but I want to.

I want to be more like the person I was made to be. I want to be changed by Him from the inside out. So, I pray for Him. I pray for more of His presense. More of His peace. And, then… I walk.

One step.

Two steps.

Three shaky steps.

I am on my way! I’m in motion. Let’s hope our momentum propels us forward. Wish me luck!

I share these thoughts not for me, but for you. I shared this post in my personal journal and decided then that it might be something to help another. Did it help you? Any thoughts? Please share this post as much as you’d like. Let’s move together. There’s no use in going it alone.

When It Doesn’t Make Sense

The stars aligned when I met Nick. I tell ya. If anything has ever aligned… those stars did. Like, perfectly. Everything. Made. Perfect. Sense.

Three years later, my universe spun out of control when my own personal piece of perfect sense was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

When Nick died, he was 27. And, all he had ever wanted was to be a dad.

Our daughter was 9 months old, asleep and dreaming, when I held my husband as he took his last breath.

All I ever wanted was to be a good wife. And, there I was…26 and a widow.

Weird how things work out sometimes. Weird how sometimes they can seem like they just… don’t.

Life from today’s (or, any given day’s) viewpoint doesn’t always make a lick of sense. But, faith stirs in my heart and somehow I find something that tastes like pure truth. 1. That one day it will work together for good. 2. That all of this messy dark will make sense. 3. That those big promises from the big guy upstairs aren’t just talk. It may be decades from now and I’ve come to accept that it may not be on this side of heaven. But I firmly believe it. Like, in my gut. Deep down. Like when the stars align and you just know that you know that you know: It will all work together for good.

I haven’t always been this way. Full of thankfulness, full of faith. But, I’ve found a few too many stories of mine that seem to make no sense at all, come full circle. And, I’m still pretty young. So, I’ve gotta believe it’s going to happen again. I’ve gotta believe that this is my life (and your life, our lives) if we choose to follow Him.

Say Something

Even when I was a little girl, I always knew I wanted to write. And I read faster than anyone ever believed. Especially my teachers. They would constantly ask: “Are you sure you read that last page?… Ok… Well, what did it say?”

I used to lay awake at night in my teens because I felt like I needed to say something. Like I needed people to hear me. Like I saw things differently and the world, or even just one person out there, needed to know. Like maybe… just maybe, I could help somebody. I felt frustrated at times, for I felt I didn’t know exactly what I should say or who I should say it to. But, I felt born to encourage and I felt underutilized. I wanted to realize my potential and hadn’t.

I’ve practiced my way with words, lingered on the rhythms of sentences, and dreamed up compelling arguments my entire life. As a young(er) adult I wrote about fitness and health, then entrepreneurship, then I started in on marrying young in this day and age (I was 20 when I got married, it was 2008, and it was the best decision of my life), then a few dozen pages on loving your spouse… Back then, I thought I was an expert in all these areas. Now, I claim to know a tiny bit but not near everything (and I definitely don’t use the word “expert” anymore. That’s an icky word. Let’s not use it. None of us are experts of anything if we admit it). Nevertheless, the writing of all of it, of any of it, was ahh-maze-ing.

The dreams God stirred up in me as a young girl, as a (clearly overachieving) teenager, and as a college girl that worked writing into every job she’s ever had… weren’t there for nothing. I think God gave me this mind and these words for a reason. I think I have to tell my story. I think, when I told Nick and my story, that team magnotti helped many who were struggling with similar fights.

And, now, having been through all of this… I think, finally, maybe those dreams I used to dream have tiptoed out into the daylight, to try to become real.

Your Fears Can Only Consume You If You Let Them.

Did you skip over that heading? It’s important. Your fears… those things that keep you up at night… they can only consume you, hinder you, hold you if you give them your permission. You have to let them. You CAN choose not to.

As of late, my world has been filled with fears that have the power to hold me down – under a deep, dark mess of tangled hopes and confused dreams. My fears center around getting my message across pointedly, around building strong foundations in a busted-up-then-mended-up heart, and around being the best mother I can be to a daughter who deserves far more than I could ever give. But, I’ve chosen to follow my God because I DO know that “even if” (even though) it doesn’t make sense now. I know and choose to believe that God has a plan for me, despite the “bad” things that have happened.

I look back on the life I had with Nick and the lessons that I’ve learned, the people he inspired and I see some things that I can’t explain. There are some questions that I truly can’t answer. But, I also see something complete. Something insanely, wildly and delicately beautiful. Something fierce and real. Something that you can feel in your heartbeat, in your breath. Something that meant more than anything else ever has. I see the love and grace and mercy of our Father. I see not the end of a story, but the beginning. The hope: filled, instilled, and spread. ***

And Even If.. It Doesn’t Make Sense

Have faith, dear ones, because I know how scary it can get out there. How we can walk atop the waters… but if we dare to look down, that dark-blue-turns-black can feel way too close.

When this life makes sense, it’s easy to trust God with everything. When it really just doesn’t make sense at all, it can be the greatest challenge and learning curve you will ever face. All I want, in times of awesome… and even in times of utterly-not-awesome… is to be brave. So, I choose to trust. I walk… I fight… And, I write. Choose faith. Choose hope. Choose to see.

What do you think? Share here. Share now. Or… share with those you love. YOU can hold on to hope. I know you can. You got this.

(***Am I saying my husband had to get sick and go to heaven for me to write something that mattered to me? For God to use me? Certainly not!! Am I saying that bad things are God-ordained or part of His plan? NOPE! NO WAY! But, I am saying that He can work the good and the bad together for good. I truly struggled with this concept for the longest time.. I may try to tackle it soon, maybe in a video (good idea?). Its such a tough concept, but such an important one, to understand. The universal, “why do bad things happen?” I think I finally have a general understanding. One that I can live with until I can personally ask Jesus “What up with this ish?”)

 

I’ll Let Go If You Will

Funny isn’t it? How a beginning of one thing requires an end of something else.

How we must open up our hands and let go to be able to grab on to the next thing? It can feel impossibly difficult to let go, especially when you are at the end of your rope. Especially, even more so, if the rope you’ve been holding onto is actually just a thread.

More often than not, these ropes and threads are made of fibers of fear. Our fists are tightened resolutely around what we fear we might lose.

We cling to our jobs, to our image, to our children, our spouses, or our bank accounts. What we want is control. What we want is security. We believe that if we hold something close enough there is no way it could break. But, what we tend to forget is that we aren’t gods. There are things we can’t control. And there are things that if held too tightly, and we aren’t careful, could shatter into a million pieces.

There is a time for everything. And, I think our time has come. To give up control. To let go and let go again. It’s time for you to be who you were made to be. It’s time to be brave. It’s time to open up those hands, drop that thread of security, toss those fears, and throw your empty hands skyward. Lift them and open them up to whatever it is that God wants to give you. Whatever it is He wants to show you.

Is it scary? Heck to the yes. Sometimes it seems like the scariest thing in the entire world. But, there just isn’t another way to do it. Living this life in fear… I promise you… isn’t what we are meant for.

Bravery is woven into our very being. Fear causes flying wings to flutter and falter. We must make the decision to let go of your fears if we truly want to fly.

You… You were meant to jump, friend. You were meant to live by faith.

What if you fall?

Oh, but what if you fly?

Your soul was made to soar.

This summer I let go of a few fears myself. I wish I could say that it was easy… that I was a natural. But, I wasn’t. Oye. I had to pry my fingers up one by one. It was painful and it sure wasn’t pretty. Living scared can feel a heck of a lot easier than living free.

Back in May, I was beginning to feel like God was telling me I was ready for a new relationship. And, I was scared out of my mind. Mainly for what people might think. Nick had told me over and over again at different intervals through his two and a half year illness that if he died he would want me to find someone again. Near the end he made sure to tell me again, except he didn’t say if, he said when. Inhale. Exhale. Yeah, that was hard. Overtime he told me, I fought him. I said I couldn’t imagine it. And, I honestly couldn’t.

But, once he was truly gone (and I realized that I was only 26 and not 76 like I had felt), I felt God telling me it was time to really consider being (or trying to be) in a relationship again. I had lost parts of Nick and parts of our relationship over such a long period of time and I had grieved those losses every second of every day for years. The thought of beginning again was scary, especially so soon. I was so fearful of what people might think. (And, that is a blog post in and of itself. The fears that one faces when you know what God is telling you but know that it may not be a “popular” path. Maybe I’ll go over that at some point soon.)

I remember putting Austyn down for a nap and going to my room to pray. My dad was living with me at the time, but he wasn’t home. And, that was definitely a good thing, because I collapsed. I couldn’t even make it to the couch. I fell on my hands and knees and the tears began to flow (that sounds dainty… It was more like pour, rage, cascade, gush…. Gross). The gravity of what I thought God wanted me to do felt too much to bear. How could I go on when I had finally begun to understand that there really was no going back?

I cried out to God and I prayed a big prayer. I asked God to look after whoever He had in mind for me next. I poured out to Him and my heart spoke. I knew that the only relationship that could sustain me at this point would be one that pushed me closer to Him.

So I asked God for that. I told Him that if I was to ever be in another relationship, I wanted one that brought me closer to Him. That made me stronger in Him. That made me more like Love.

Secondary to that, I wanted someone who could truly love me and love my daughter.

“And nothing else matters.” I proceeded to tell God what didn’t matter… Career. Money. Looks. Location. Dog or Cat person (I took that one back… He has to be a dog person… Just kidding).

After some time on that floor, I finally felt like I could pick myself back up. From there, I knew that God had it in His hands. I felt complete peace that He had a plan. And I didn’t know if I would meet this guy soon or in a few decades but I knew, as Nick had known and even shared with our pastor, that God had someone else in mind for me.

Fast forward a week or so. Life had gone on as normal, which included about a million diaper changes (tad exaggeration) and many wonderful moments spent staring into my sweet daughter’s eyes (when she would sit still long enough that is).

I had decided to create an account on a Christian dating site. And, let me tell you creating that profile was scaarrre-ey. Some of the emails that followed were downright horrifying (I kid… sort of). After just a few days, I was about ready to delete the whole thing when a message caught my eye.

There is so much I could tell you from there… About all of the things that God did to even get me to give this guy my number, let alone my real name. He lived in Florida so a quick coffee date wouldn’t work but we were able to get to know each other through email and, eventually, long phone calls. Then, he came up to Seattle for a week. We hung out and he was exactly who I thought he was. A strong man of God that had been through a lot, like me (well, not the man part).

This summer, I had the opportunity to take an extended vacation. I had been thinking about Southern California, but decided to change my plans. Instead, I went to Pensacola, Florida unsure of what would transpire. The month was lovely. I spent time and made time. And then spent it again.

And a good portion of that time was spent in the company of my new friend. As we grew closer, I knew that God had some kind of plan and, though I was so tempted to run in the other direction, I held on.

After much prayer on both of our ends, we became official (I felt like I was in high school again… I have a “boyfriend”… It felt like it had been ages) in August. And, before I left for Seattle, we began praying about our next steps. Neither of us wanted a long-distance relationship and we didn’t think God necessarily wanted it for us either. But, we were on literal opposite ends of the country. How in the world would we make this work?

It would be hard to write out what transpired in those last few weeks. But, God made it clear in our hearts that we were supposed to be in Florida. He started with me. And I tried so hard to ignore it; to pretend I didn’t hear or feel His prompts. But, eventually I gave in and admitted it. It felt like making that leap (or many leaps, across the stinking country!) was God’s best option for me.

Now, let’s take a detour for a second here. It’s not that I believe that God wouldn’t have blessed me had I decided not to move. God works in mysterious ways, that is for sure. And we definitely have a choice. We can follow what we believe is God’s voice or we can turn away. We can attempt to listen, or we can listen to the world. It’s really up to us and was up to me, but I felt like God’s best (read: best, not only) option for me was to make this move. Ok, back to the story.

Instead of holding onto my fears and refusing to believe He could be asking for such a thing, I decided to take a step. And, as soon as I made the decision to trust, I was given peace again.

When I told my family and my closest friends what was on my heart, they confirmed what I was feeling. That scared little voice inside me (you guys have one too, right, that’s not just me?) was actually hoping that at least one of them would think I was crazy. That at least one of them would beg for me to change my mind. But, honestly, they showed care, asked the right questions, said they would miss me like crazy but supported me through and through. I really do have the best friends in the entire world. (Why do they have to be so awesome?! I miss my Washington mountains, dangit!)

So…

I sold my home.

I sold about a third of my furniture.

And, I signed a lease. (And, God worked crazy miracles – yes, plural – into each one of those events. Oh how I wish I could tell you fast enough!)

There you have it. I’m now living in an itsy-bisty Florida town on the Gulf of Mexico so that I can be closer to the one I love. So that we don’t have to be long distance. So, we can see what this is all made of. I took the leap.

Let’s fast forward again (because, let’s face it, I’m long-winded… I start a short storytelling bootcamp next week – psych!).

This move has taught me so many new things. It’s challenged me in ways I never imagined. It’s required bravery on days when I was sure I had none left. Though I can’t say that I know what God is doing or if this is a final destination, I can say that this adventure has brought me so much closer to God. And, if we remember from my uber blubbery prayer sesh on the floor back in May, that is exactly what I wanted.

And, my new relationship? It’s certainly pushed God and I closer still. It’s helped me see myself clearer than I have in a long time. I have an absolutely amazing man in my life. His heart is humble but brave, strong but loving, determined but gentle. He is certainly committed to a life filled with God, committed to me and committed to my little girl. This was my second request. I’m enjoying that for now.

So, here I am in a new city (on what feels like a different planet). Trying to be brave and aiming with all my might for hope. Working through a new, amazing (and different) love. I’ve got a beautiful daughter with a fighter’s heart. And, I’ve got a God on my side who I know will always have my back… I truly am blessed.

Unfortunately, I still can’t see the future (I know… shocker, right?!). I still want to clamp my fists so tightly around what I know. I’m often tempted to run headlong to my fears, grab on tight, and let all the things that could go wrong take over. Sometimes I long for the old, the remembered, the comfortable. But, then I remember something that someone very special to me used to say all the time… We aren’t to worry because “God’s got it.” (That would be my dear sweet late-hubby’s wonderful quote).

Whatever you are facing, whatever challenges, whatever fears keep you up at night… Maybe you can try, like me, to choose faith over fear. To cast aside your worry. To lift those wings, weightless, with nothing to tie you down. After all, that’s what you were made for.

Being brave is a choice. Choosing hope is courageous. I’ll let go if you will. …You first! ;]

Love, A

PS: Stay tuned for more posts and videos coming soon! If you haven’t yet, follow me on Instragram and my other social media profiles to be updated of new happenings. The links are the beautiful blue icons to your left… No, your other left… ;]

PSS: I built this site on my own, but I had some major awesome help from two very awesome people (who both actually worked on the TeamMagnotti project with me too)!

BIG HUGE THANKS go out to Kyle Chicoine for his amazing logo design. He took my concepts and sketches and turned them into a little bit of delicious digital eye-candy. The logo is so perfect and cute, I could wrap it up and sing it a lullaby!

ANOTHER HUGE THANK YOU goes out to to my friend Jordan for his mastery of web design and superb coding knowledge. Without him, my site logo would probably still be in a very obscure and unflattering locale. Thank you, friend!