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.

Focusing Out

When I thought my life wasn't worth living anymore. My heart felt as if it had sunken to the farthest it could go. Giving up seemed like the best way out.

Words can hurt, they can bring you down farther than you ever thought. One sentence can ruin a whole day. They leave you loathing a particular being.

Your so sad, your so upset because this person was mean to you. They told you they hated you. They told you that you were worthless. They said they never wanted see your face. All this time that you are being pushed down, you keep focus on the criminal.

The person that could care less about you. The person that was never there when you needed it most, was the same person you continue to focus on. Your mind keeps picking and picking at the one person that means little to nothing to you.

It's crazy how focusing in on one person can change our views on the whole picture. That when I felt so alone I forgot to zoom out. That when I was hurt, I continued to hold down the zoom button.

I didn't realize that the only thing they were doing, was blinding me from this whole picture.

I thought I was so alone. I thought that no one cared anymore.

I stopped taking photos to glance at my camera, and I realized that my camera was zoomed all the way in.  

I muttered "What was I thinking?"

And then I zoomed out.

I stared at this big picture in astonishment.

She was just ONE element of the big picture, my big beautiful picture.

In this picture was my mom. In this picture was my dad. Kaden was in there too. Katie and the twins were sitting right next to me. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Bailey, Bronson, and Zach were there.

There were so many good memories that came flooding back. That the one little element that held me down didn't compare to the surrounding ones.

There is so much to live for.

I have come to accept the fact that you are NEVER alone in this world. The big picture is a beautiful one.  The ratio of people that belong there to the ones that done are a thousand to one.

So don't forget to zoom out.

Behind the Scenes.

 We live on a stage, we are casted into a production, a fast-moving, chaotic, never-ending production.

There is that ticking constant fear of the dark, being unseen by the audience below. That in a matter of seconds the lighting changes and we are thrown into utter darkness.

In that utter darkness, there's room for error. A small trip across the stage can go undetected, unseen by the people below. That same small stumble throws you to the concrete floor, and pair sears throughout your body like a dim electric shock, still going unnoticed.

The audience is enjoying the story that moves in front of their eyes in amazement. While backstage, you sit lonesome and in pain, waiting for the next time the spotlight will shine upon your skin. The feel of that small amount of heat beats the cold and dangerous darkness of backstage.

From the audience's point of view  it's easy to be an actor, that you can appear on a stage without preparation and wing it. But the audience's point of view is based on what they see under the spotlight. They don't see the path of murkiness taken to get to the spotlight.

There is no concept such as a clear path to the spotlight, but simply existing actors that make that path look easy. As if getting to that spotlight was just a step away, free of trial, and when they stand under the beaming light their beauty shines not onlybeyond the eyes of the audience but to their hearts.

Our goal is to be like these actors, knowing that we can't change the inevitable, the darkness we will overcome, but we can portray to the audience that we never had to cross a frightening path but an unforgettable one.

The moments under the spotlight are short-lived moments of high performance. Light is where your at your finest, the times where you reach the hearts of your viewers. So we laugh when we stumble back into obscurity, and when we are all alone in the darkness we are reminded where light can be again.

Behind every "perfect person" is an actor trying to find their place backstage. We may only see what's under the spotlight, but sometimes the greatest of happiness is found behind the scenes.

"The path to heaven runs through miles of clouded hell right to the top...don't hold  back " -- Imagine Dragons

Unconditional

I believe in the word unconditional.

That when the word “unconditional” is used in a phrase or sentence, it’s meant to be there.

When a new life comes into this crazy, chaotic planet, it can't always be promised unconditional love.

I believe that when God is sending souls down here, he knows that only some will get the gift of unconditional love and he also worries for the ones who won't.

Unconditional love is a hard target to hit, which is why many avoid aiming for the center of the target. There are so called "conditions" that hold them back from shooting for the center aka unconditional love.

What if my daughter wants to marry another woman? What if my son goes to jail for stealing? What if my children become addicted to drugs?

Do I still love them?

Its conditions similar to these that separate the moms who shoot for the center from the ones who shoot for the outsides, what seems to be the easier aim.

On August 12th 1998, she didn't sign a waiver saying she was ready for the challenge nor she did she place her hand upon a bible to vow. But when she looked into the eyes of the newborn eyes of a stranger, she made a promise she intended to keep.

When she puked all over her brand new shirt, she promised she would still love her. She promised to love her even when she left a disaster in the kitchen. After she realized how late she would be to work, she still signed “I love you" to her through the car window as her daughter walked into school. When she went to spend more time with her boyfriend, she never forgot that her mom loved her more than he did.

And when she thought her life couldn't get any worse, she remembered her mommy would still love her.

When God decided to send me down to earth, he wasn't worried. He knew that she would shoot straight for the target, he knew that she would hit it with perfection. When he watched me take my first breath, he smiled. For he knew she had the potential to give me the one of the brightest futures that no mother was capable of doing.

And when that little baby looked into her new mother's eyes, who seemed like just stranger to her, she made a promise too.

I love you Mommy!

UNCONDITIONALLY

PS.....Happy 43rd Birthday.

hap·py ˈhapē/

My name is Jerra Jo Fowers, and I am happy.

I am happy not just because my ship has sailed through a perfect journey, but an unforgettable one.

I hit storms every week. My ship has been tossed and turned into directions far away from home. My sails were tore into when the wind came in strong. I felt so lost in the middle of the ocean that I thought I would  never would find my way home. I have come to except the fact that my "happy" ride alone came with it's difficulties.

That with every storm, I got the opportunity to dance in the rain. That if my sails were never torn, I never would have learned to fix them. When I was far from home, in the middle of the ocean, I smiled. I smiled because I realized how grateful I am for my family miles away. I may not have gotten to "paradise island" nor did I break the world record for distance traveled alone. But I found the X on the map. I found happiness along the way.

The treasure that's casted away on another island isn't that 1st place medal or that pot of gold, it's happiness. Life's beauty isn't through the amount of records beaten, the amount of medals earned, or that girl you beat last week, but the happiness  found along the way.  For your successes are useless if you didn't enjoy the journey to them.

I learned that happiness and achievement don't always ride hand in hand.
I'm not the fastest runner in the state, but I am happy waking up every day to go to practice. I'm nowhere near becoming valedictorian, but I love going to school.

Passion is like your map, it guides to your happiness. I have learned that you will never find happiness on your ship if you don't have a passion to drive you. If your not doing what makes you happy, your only turning your ship in circles.

Happiness is the chest filled with gold, the highest of the high, the best of the best. Happiness is that little girl with the smile, that has the power to change the world.

My Name is Jerra Jo Fowers, and I am HAPPY.