As I lay here...it's nearing around midnight and I can't sleep.
I have a million thoughts surging through my head that I don't necessarily want to forget.
Something I found a little strange is that at the end of 2016, I had many ask me personally,
"How was your year?"
There's just one word that comes straight to mind with every response
"ok"
Anyone that would hear that would automatically assume that something was wrong with my year.
"What do you mean?"
"It wasn't great?"
"But didn't college make it one of the best years of your life?"
My answer to these. It's simple. That just because my year wasn't superb, doesn't make it unmeaningful.
And I'm "ok" with that.
Although it was my hardest, this year taught me so many more lessons than any other year in my life.
One being that I don't have to hide my hurt. I don't have to pretend that my life was perfect when I was hurting.
When your a little baby, one of the lessons you learn at about 6 months is object permenance. (Yes I actually paid attention in psychology) Object permenance is that understanding in your little brain that when objects disappear, they don't actually go away.
One way that doctors can see this development is by putting an object under a blanket where its not visible and observing the baby to see if they look for it or make the realization that its not actually gone.
In 2016, I had to make this realization too.
That when I decide to cover up my hard times they won't disappear. Part of being human is hurting and going through trials that are so hard. But letting them shape us.
Hiding all this hurt behind my back wasn't going to get me anywhere.
Anyone can fake a smile, keep their chin up, and hold their head high, when deep down their dying.
When no one's watching, do you walk with such confidence?
There are so many people out there that can understand what were going through better than we can ourselves. Bottling it all up to make an image would just be cheating out ourselves.
So going back to object permenance. I made the realization that I can't just make things disappear by throwing them under a blanket and walking away.
I had to let these struggles shape me.
They say that to be strong, you have to "look fear straight in the eye", and I believe it. There were times this year where I wasn't really sure what to do, so I threw things under a blanket.
Then I realized that I didn't want them to hurt me anymore.
So I tackled them head on.
If life's challenges don't scare you, chances are your not doing it right.
We have two options in this life. We can choose to hide objects, or pull them out and face them.
Because I chose to face these harsh realities, its been a year of finding Jerra.
The Jerra now is THRIVING, I'm thriving not because I faked my way to the end. But because I didn't run away from what scared me.
So 2016, you were indeed "ok", and I'm proud to say that.
Thursday, January 12, 2017
Monday, December 26, 2016
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
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.
It's going to be a good one.
Friday, August 5, 2016
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.
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.
Thursday, July 28, 2016
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)

