BELIEVE

Mom and Dad,

When I was eight years old, I approached you with the conclusion that I would someday marry Peyton Manning.

Why?
"He's cute mommy!"

Not only did we have a 22 year age gap, but Peyton Manning had a wife, and he was a professional football player. Let's face it....my chances were slim. This was an unrealistic fantasy that occurred in my little eight year old brain.

Most parents would simply explain to their eight-year-old that this could not happen.

You went out and bought me his official jersey, numerous Colts t-shirts, a plaque, a Colts blanket, many different Nerf footballs, and withstood watching the Indianapolis Colts play every Sunday.

Flash forward ten more years, and at 18 years old, I fantasized running my first half marathon.

So you signed me up, and drove alongside me and cheered me on during the last three miles.
You were the first person there when they placed the medal around my neck.

The fact of the matter is, there was never a time in my life that you doubted me. There was nothing I couldn't do, throughout my whole life, my dreams were only a step away.

My whole existence there was the voice of society telling me I couldn't do it. But two voices that were encouraging me to go after finding my own dreams.

I didn't know that driving a tractor was normally a man's job. That learning to tile, paint, pound in hardwood flooring, and haul hay were chores that usually males did. You both taught me that there wasn't a difference. We were just as capable to be strong, smart, and hard working at anything we set our minds too.

I will never forget the numerous times you drove the boat, back and forth, and back and forth, because I couldn't get up on the wake board.  I quickly became frustrated, because both boys could get up within a few tries and I couldn't. I remember saying "It's just easier for boys to get up, because they have more upper body strength."

As parents you continued encouraging me that whole summer that I could do it. You encouraged me strap on the board again and again. You both were so patient, and continued giving feedback on how I could do better. There was never a doubt that I couldn't do it.

It was at Lake Powell, our first day out. We drove into this narrow canyon, and dad said.

"Let's wake board, who wants to go first?"

He quickly looked at me and said

"Jerra, you want to go?"

At that moment in time, I was doubting myself so much. I knew I wouldn't get up. I jumped off the boat, into the freezing water. The rope lost slack, and dad yelled "Tell me when your ready."

I got up on my first shot.

I look back on all these times, and wonder how.
How could I have pulled off these feats when I didn't even believe in myself?
It was because you both believed.

When my odds were stacked against me, and my world came to a halting stop. I told you both I wasn't going to make it through this. It wasn't within a few seconds later that you told me.

"Your going to make it through this just fine."

Thank you for believing in me, when I couldn't find reasons myself too.

Leaving my Tree

The past four months of my life have been a roller coaster. I have been scared, worried, sad, alone, but let's not forget, I've been happy.

Moving out is so much scarier than I thought it'd be. I never knew how much I depended on my family until I left the nest. Taking that leap of faith is so exciting yet, it's so eye-opening.

I thought leaving the nest was all that I'd have to go through, but I was so wrong. I had to leave my whole tree. 

Within a week before moving in, I had to leave behind every branch I created back home. 

Some branches were long, and branched out far, and some were small, but the fact of the matter is, I had to jump from that tree soon. I had to find my own, new tree.

As much as I had to look back, and maybe fly back a few times.....I did it. I found my own tree.

A certain someone, told me about a week ago.

"This is a new chapter in your life, your just going to have to turn the page, and have courage when those next pages are blank. Know that this next chapter, it's going to be good."

"You just have to write your own story now."

Jumping from that tree was scary, but I have created something I never thought I could on my own. I have this new amazing tree, and it's already got so many branches.

I have so many new friends, I'm in love with college, I have this amazing job, I continue to run, I play soccer once a week, I have so many people to love, and I am so happy. The little moments bring me closer to the life I want to live. I am becoming independent, finding so many little reasons to be happy, even when there's reasons not too.

I had to fight, through the wind, and the rain, Fly in the cold, to find this tree. There were so many times where I felt so far from home. When there was so much trying to pull me down, I did it. I'm so proud of myself. 

I've done it. 

I've exceeded my own expectations.

 I'm still here, I'm still fighting for better days, and I'm getting them.

You have to be scared in life sometimes, or your not living. 

Hard times have to come to make us realize what we have, we are so strong beneath our surfaces. 

I'm growing this tree on my own, writing my new chapter, and I am doing it all by myself.

It's going to be a good one.

piñatas

Last night while I was folding boys clothes at work, I had one term super glued into my brain

Pinatas

People often say the phrase "how many times to I need to get hit before I get back up".

So last night............I thought it through.

How many times does it take for you to get hit before you give up on yourself?
So I did the math. I counted through some of my hardest times, and thought through situations. At first I thought 4 was a good number, then with more thinking 6 seemed more feasible. I came to the conclusion that it takes a person on average 6 hits until they give up forever. 6 hits until your piñata bursts.

So who's the person who would ever want to hit your piñata six times? That seems crazy to ever want to pursue pain onto another human being like that.

Who's the person behind that plastic bat you say? Well I thought this question through the hardest.

9 people out of 10 say that God is the one behind the piñata's weapon, the one that hits us with trials. That God throws trials at us because he knows we can take them. It makes sense that people would think this way, as it is very realistic. But contrary to what everyone thinks I thought of something very different.

As I folded the boys graphic tees, I was trying to make sense of why God would throw trials at us like this. Why would someone who loved us all enough to die for us, want to put us through pain? Deep down, I wanted to believe something different. I didn't want to believe that all God did was the naughty work. It wasn't sitting with me the way I wanted it too.

I thought "there's got to be something else he does........", this can't be his only job.

So I thought about piñatas.

Usually, when your using a piñata at your house there's someone hitting the piñata, and then there's the man with the string in his hand, the man that whips the piñata up and down. Depending on who the man is, sometimes he lets you get a few hits and sometimes he doesn't let you touch it at all. But in all reality, it's not up the hitter whether he gets to hit it or not, it's this man.

And then it hit me, it all made sense, the man was God.

God is the good guy after all. All those times that every told me that God was the man throwing the trials they were wrong.

You see, God has the choice as to if we get hit or not. Sometimes he lets us get hit many times in a row, and sometimes he lifts us up in the nick of time because he knows.

He knows us all to well, and that is why he is so successful at his job.

We have to believe that when he lets us get hit, that there will be a time when he raises us up. We have to believe that he's not going to watch us get hit, there will be a day when he decides to raise us up.

So when we get hit, we have to remember what it feels like to be raised up. That the last thing God wants for us is to break.




He holds to our string diligently, and is always watching over us, and knows when the time comes to pull it or not.

Adventures of Kaden and Jerra: Episode #1

Winter & Fowers Family Boating Trip

A Fowers Favorite: Lake Powell

May 29th: Boating Trip

Geneology Video

For all of those who want to know more about my family line.....here's our story. My line is

Jesse Fowers (Great-Great-Great Grandpa)

Joseph Fowers (Great-Great Grandpa)

Leslie Gilbert Fowers (Great-Grandpa)

Ronald Fowers (Grandpa)

Thane Fowers (Dad)

Jerra Fowers

2's and 7's

Just an attempt at an inspirational video.......

How To Build a Shed

There are a few things you should know before you decide to build a shed.

When first begin building a shed, you begin with 4 planks of wood for the sides, and roof over the top. They keep the shed upright and standing, without any one piece it will topple over in disgrace. If they aren't nailed in tight, your shed will tilt to one side in a very unconventional way. The importance of these first steps will be discussed later.

Next you'll need paint, and lots of it. Also invest in both rollers, wide, and narrow brushes to cover every nook and cranny of the surface area. Because this shed is probably outdoors, you will need to paint it with many coats, as coat after coat will peel off after wear and tear.

Note, that over the time period of many years, your shed will continue to look older and older, even the day after you finish it.You see, your poor little shed that sits on the side of your house will go through many hardships. 

That lovely layer of red paint that the shed thought would stick around forever, peels of little bits at time. Those many layers that the small shack thought meant the most, were the pieces that fell off quickest.

Soon that little shed that was once enclosed in bright red paint, now has small patches spread sporadically across it's panels.

When that little shed went through strong winds, inches upon inches of snow, pounding rain, and the beating rays of the sun. These conditions caused the paint to fall with trepidation of what was to come. When that paint fell, the small shed grieved, feeling as if it was falling apart already.

Remember the emphasis of the importance of the roof and the 4 panels? The little shed is then reminded how far it is from falling apart.

Each panel protected the shed from each direction of wind that decided to hit it. The four panels help hold up the roof. Each complimenting one another when holding the shed together.

That roof became the most important part of the shed keeping each panel in line, where they all held tight together storm after storm. It protected each panel through everything, a love that didn't even loosen a nail.

In that moment when the shed was only covered with small chunks of bleak, faded paint, it felt so protected and loved by it's side panels and most importantly, it's roof. It didn't matter how much paint was left, but that each panel was nailed in as tight as it began with. Unlike the paint that made the shed look so good, the roof and it's panels didn't bail when times got tough for the shed, rather they stuck through.

The panels and roof made that shed everlasting. From the beginning of the building each panel was nailed in just as tight. Only the fate of a wrecking ball could tear apart something so strong.

When building a shed, don't forget the roof and the side panels.

Apple Trees

When an apple falls from a tree, it is almost always assumed that the fallen fruit came from the tree above it. Red apples would come from red trees, green from green trees, so on and so forth. If there was an instance where an apple picker claimed to have picked up a green apple that had fallen from a red tree, it is thought that the picker would be crazy.

When I was born, it was obvious who my parents were. I didn’t need a blood test, or a urine sample to allow my parents’ names to be plastered across my certificate in bold ink. It was as if I was a red apple that had fallen from two red trees.

At two years old, I had no problems to face, because I had two people to face them with me. At two years old, I had my whole world, my two red apple trees, mom and dad.

 AJ is two years old. When AJ’s green apple, fell from the red apple tree, the apple pickers were quick to claim the tree as his parent. The truth is, AJ fell from two trees, a red and green apple tree, two that loved him more than they loved themselves. Yet the name of green apple tree, the spitting image of him, couldn’t be printed across his birth certificate.

At two years old, AJ had his whole world, his two apple trees, green and red.

One long night was all it took to find the green apple tree rested upon the ground, far beyond saving. Leaving AJ the small green apple, with only one name, not two, written across his certificate.

Why could I have two names on my certificate, but AJ couldn’t? Our trees were both apple trees, both of us had parents that loved us unconditionally.

The difference is a simple, yet daunting, phrase to our nation. That same sex parents can’t legally be considered parents of their children that they have together. This is a flaw has caused 320 million people to be perplexed, yet there is one little boy who has been filled with so much love that wouldn’t know the difference.

The solution however is simple, any combination of parents are like any combination of trees, they are the same therefore they have equal opportunity to raise a family with much triumph.

After much trial and conflict, AJ finally got his mother’s name on his certificate, but no child should have to go through what his family did. The blood flowing throughout AJ’s body is his mother’s, yet he had to prove that this was his mother.

This may seem like a big problem, a difficult one to tackle, but the resolution begins one person at a time. The more people that believe in AJ’s story, the easier the decision becomes.

We are all just apples, we taste the same, look the same, and grow the same, therefore we all deserve the same rights.

Eyes

Eyes are a body part that almost everyone has. Some are blue, some brown, some even mixes of different colors. Eyes have never been discriminated against based on color, people aren’t looked at differently based off the color of their eyes. So if I had an opportunity to sit down with my historical figure for dinner, I would look him in the eyes.

 One look up and I am gazing into the eyes of a legend. The eyes of a fighter, a pursuer, an inspiration, and a dreamer. A man that never gave up no matter the consequence. One that fought for what he believed in and never let anyone tell him differently.

One look up and I am staring into humble eyes. Eyes that wouldn’t show animosity to the people who discriminated against him.

One look up and I am gaping into the eyes of a father. A man with a family of six to care for, and protect from the world’s terrors.

One look up and I am looking intently into the eyes of a leader. Someone who stood up for not only their well-being, but the well-being of others.

One look up and I am seeing truth in the eyes that other’s never took the time to look into. People that were too distracted by the color of one’s skin to look into their real character.

I am looking into the eyes of Martin Luther King Jr.

They say in your lifetime you meet nearly 100,000 people, but I’d like to think that I have never come across a man with so much to offer to a nation. King brought a viewpoint into perspective that millions were perplexingly blind to.  He fought for the truth that at the time, seemed so wrong.

I know firsthand that it’s extremely hard to stand up against a group of people, because you believe differently. King stood against an entire nation with his beliefs.

I would want to have dinner with Martin Luther King Jr. because he wouldn’t look at the color of my skin, but look into my eyes, to see the content of my character.