Real Intimacy.

I've had an ongoing affair for years now, with God. I know it sounds weird to say that, but it's become very clear to me that I've treated God as an on again off again relationship. When things are on, they're amazing, and they're powerful. When things are off, I do what I want, go my own way, spend very little effort or time with the Lord. Maybe you've had a similar experience. But recently my soul has been crying out for more depth, more authenticity, more of the life-giving relationship, that I'm pretty sure I don't even know. I've been binging on junk food religion, and it hasn't necessarily been fully conscious. I know what to say, how to say it, I know what I'm supposed to do, who I'm supposed to hang out with, what I'm supposed to pray...but all of that has come to a dead end. I've been really into health lately, so forgive the analogies, but I've eaten myself into disease-faith wise. My soul has finally rejected my "religion" and my view of "God" and will only settle for the raw, real, and true God. I think I've come to a crossroads where the doctor basically says to you, well, you can continue doing what you're doing, and your organs will fail one by one. Or you can change your lifestyle, and you will slowly begin to see your health restored.

If you know me well, you know that God has put this incredible passion on my heart for women/girls who are survivors of sex trafficking. I sought out this purpose on my life which lead to a change in career, a change in perspective, and continues to be almost like this mystery that I don't fully understand yet. I'm not where I thought I would be in this work, but the journey has been mind-blowing to say the least. Hear me out, it has not been easy. I left the dream I had of being a teacher, lost some friends along the way that never fully understood my decision, and still find myself with God-given dreams but dead ends. So the dilemma is that I know for a fact, God put this drive in me for a reason-I mean...I didn't choose this of my own accord. But every time I come across an opportunity, it seems too perfect not to happen. It seems amazingly planned by God...and it falls. through. completely. This has happened on a large scale twice, and there have been lots of little let downs along the way. So as you can imagine, I became pretty jaded. Tired of it all. Just done. I mean, Lord, if you're not going to make it work, what do I care?

To complicate things even more, I'm having another child. It's really only complicated because I have literally no plan, no idea what's going to happen after the baby comes. Meaning, financially it is OUTRAGEOUS for us to send an infant to full-time childcare on our current take-home. So then maybe I work part time? But then who do we send to school? Denzel or baby? Or both? What days? And where? Denzel will be preschool age by the time baby comes, so we have to start looking for a place for him, be thinking about the vital bonding time with new baby, and make it all work out financially, for our family, oh yeah...and for mine and Patrick's relationship. I cannot tell you the source of stress this has been, and finally it clicked one day. I realized that this baby will probably be our last, and I'm so concerned about what's going to happen after he comes. It was literally making me sick. Then I felt guilty for being sick with him, I felt guilty for crying and being depressed with him. It was awful. So one day I just decided to ditch it all. I remember someone asking me later that day, "What is your plan after the baby comes?" I said, "I don't know. I literally have no clue." Those words were freedom to me. I don't know. It sounds kind of irresponsible, doesn't it? Like I'm a bad mom, or something. I might have agreed with you before. But today I say-you're wrong. I'm in a place of "there is NOTHING I can do about this right now" so I'm choosing to do nothing. Nothing but be in the moment. And you know what? I've found great peace in that. Incredible peace, in knowing that God will make it work out, somehow. I almost don't even care how. I only care that it will be worked out.

Moving a few steps forward...in this whole process of changing my lifestyle, my soul is crying out for real authenticity. For real community. Real relationship. For the real God. I'm getting rid of the bullshit-and seeking pure wholeness, restoration, and reorienting myself with who God really is. Actually, reorienting isn't really the right word. It's more like starting over, starting a new. It's like I got a divorce, and have decided to begin courting all over again-in hopes that I will find a different outcome and a different relationship. Well, so far I have.

I'm starting to fall in love with a God who loves me in my nakedness. You know that vulnerable time when you're seen with nothing to hide behind? No clothes, no makeup, nothing. And what I get back is overwhelming love. What I see in his eyes is only love. In all my flaws and imperfection, I'm seen as beautiful, as perfectly created. I'm beginning to know a God who wants less small talk, and wants more authentic relationship. It's no more about the "I should read the Bible" or "I know I need to pray more." It's now about the condition of my heart, how I surrender myself to him, and the truth in how I'm feeling.

Today I think was a starting point for this new relationship I have with God. And I can tell this is lasting. What we had before-well, I just wasn't committed. And while I went my own way, did my own thing, God waited patiently for me. He knew I'd come around though. So now I begin my life with a new love-one that I'd failed in the past-but that I get to start over again. I surrender now and give myself fully to the one who never wanted the other garbage to begin with. Here I am, raw, undone, and tired of the show. I'm ready for real intimacy. I'm ready for the real God.

My littlest love

My sweet boy,

You have already captured my heart with your movement inside me and the lousy black and white pictures we got of you from the doctor. But I feel like I already have to apologize for what you're coming into. It's nothing extreme-I mean, you won't have FASD because I don't drink and none of my exams indicate that there's any struggle you're having at all. (I work in foster care, that's how I think-can't help it). But I still feel the need to apologize, nonetheless. You see, I thought I could do it all. I thought I could work full time (which is really turning out to be lots of over time), take care of your brother, be a wonderful wife to your daddy, follow Christ, have healthy friend relationships, work out, eat healthy, get your room ready, have fun planning where things will go and which clothes to hang up first. I thought I would keep up with my prenatal yoga, pray for you daily, talk to you all the time, and just sit in awe that the life that grows inside me is you-beautiful, unique, and perfect. But I'm struggling with literally ALL of those things I listed. All of those things that I so badly desire are not turning out how I planned this time around. Work is a big cause of my stress, which literally affects my health, well being, mental health, happiness, time...I mean, everything. And ultimately, it affects you. I know you feel when I'm stressed, when I'm tired, when I cry, when I'm angry or upset. You know when everything happens, and you really can't get away. I'm pretty certain that even as I battle this lousy cold, you're going through the very same thing with me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be stress free, work out as much as I want, or spend time just playing music for you and striking up a conversation. But know that I'm doing the very best I can. It's just that things are pretty stressful right now. But there is one thing that is very important you know. And that is, I would give my life for you. I love you more than my own mind understands, and we haven't officially met yet. I'm not a perfect mom- your brother will I'm sure tell you that later on-but I love you with every fiber of my being. And I'm honored to be your mommy. So, I'll keep trying to spend more alone time with you, and you do your best to only eat the nutrient-dense things I feed you-kindly skip over the occasional junk food meal :) I love you sweetheart, and can't wait to meet you, face to precious little face. 

Always your mommy,

Me

Hormones, chai, and unending love

Some days you just can't move past the emotional stronghold hormones have on the body. At least, when you're pregnant. I don't really remember feeling like that with Denzel. To be honest, I didn't feel much of anything when I was pregnant with Denzel-nothing but joy. But this little one? Whole. New. World. Instead of crying at precious things like movies or the beauty in life, I want to rip my hair out, spank my kid (and I don't spank), and throw something at the wall. That's how I'm feeling these days. Ha, and what's funny, is after reading that last sentence I instantly welled up with tears thinking that I could feel that way about my son. But parenting is a real challenge. Once you get a glimmer of peace-tonight it was an impromptu drive around Long Beach and quick stop for a decaf dirty chai...mmmmm..., it's trashed by a kid who woke up from a dead sleep and is screaming in the back because he has to poop. If it's not that, it's crying about milk, a blanket, Kiri stepped on his foot, or even that he wants "daddy to do it, not you mommy." It's enough to drive anyone batty. It doesn't help that I have NO patience lately. And I realize it's me. I know it's this pregnancy that's wearing on me. I know. I know I ask my husband to do everything just because I'm tired, don't feel well, or just don't want to deal with it. And graciously he obliges. I know it's me. But I must not be alone. I mean, I have one toddler. Only one. Some people have handfuls of kids and not a single gray hair. So it's possible. But today I just feel like I'm not cut out for this. Who thought it was a good idea that I would be a parent anyway?

Well, I guess it was in the plan. And truthfully I can say, after a few tears have wet my shirt, and my dirty chai is gone, that I have never grown so much in any other role than I have in my "Mommy" role. I have never worked so hard at anything as I have in trying to be an amazing parent-and I'm a damn hard worker! Never researched more about attachment parenting, co-sleeping, healthy diet, having a deep relationship with your child, and loving unconditionally than I have in this stage of life. Never agonized more about being patient, never been more intentional about what I say, how I say it, and the actions that follow. I've never looked into little eyes and smiled more than I do now. I've never worked harder on being a better person, a better woman, a better mom. And part of me thinks, what do I have left to give to this new, sweet precious boy? How could I possibly give more? What will sustain me? Logically I know the answer is the Lord. But if I'm being honest, I'm not 100% buying into that-at least not at this very moment. I'm not ashamed of my doubt-God loves doubters too. I know because he's yet to leave me high and dry. I can throw anything at God, and I'm only met with love. I mean, how am I supposed to live up to that as a parent?! But that was really all part of the plan too. Unsurmountable love, love that cannot be denied, love of my Father--my Daddy. It's the thing that breaks me down every time. The thing that draws me in, brings me back, reroutes my GPS. God's love. Something I don't fully understand, and yet have experienced in a way words cannot describe.

So maybe parenting, for me, is not something to fully understand. Maybe it's intentionally created and designed to help form me for who I'm intended to be. Because maybe I wouldn't be as complete had I not gone through the experience. I'm not saying for all, but for me. Maybe God knew that this experience is what I needed to live life more fully--to the extent that I was intended to live it. Maybe this was the only way that relationship, love and intimacy would be understandable for my doubting mind. Maybe. And maybe it's okay to be honest about where I am at the present moment, because tears, a good chai, and reflection are all important. All a part of being a parent. To one, or two...or how ever many I'm supposed to love. And maybe that precious sleeping face, with both feet out of the covers, and a car he insists on sleeping with--smashed into his face--maybe that's the only image I need of love that can endure even the hardest of days. Maybe love is really all you need.

The New Normal

I sometimes wonder what a normal life would look like. What's normal you ask? Well I guess it just depends on the day, but today I feel normal would be working at a place with predictable hours. Having a career where you can walk away after working 8 hours and not worry about how a family is doing with a new family member that beats other children. Or being able to step away from work long enough to not respond to emails, JUST so you don't see a "142 Unread Messages" next to the Inbox tab. I wonder what it would be like to get home at a decent hour-not leave the house at 7 and return at 7:30pm. I wonder what it would be like to just participate in church activities instead of "lead" them, or be the "head." I wonder what it would be like to feel like I've got enough time in with my family, and can spend time with just friends. I wonder what normal health would look like. You know, when you're pregnant and glowing because you're actually feeling great-that normal. I wonder what a date night looks like with the love of your life. I wonder how normal people keep up with the dishes, with the paperwork, with the Christmas shopping. I wonder how people even make time to get more conditioner. I've been out for days.

I list this all out and realize that others wish they had a "normal" life like me. Maybe because someone they love is sick, or hospitalized, or they're out of work when they wish they weren't. I get that. I'm not complaining. Really I'm not. I'm just overwhelmed. So today I wonder what uneventful, normal looks like. It's been a while since I've felt that normal, and sometimes it's just tiring to keep up with life.

But maybe I don't really want "normal." Maybe normal is boring and gives a feeling of no purpose. Maybe normal is unfulfilling. Maybe normal doesn't encompass God's beautiful and precious plan for an individual life. Maybe normal was never the plan to begin with.

So for now I'll live with chaos, with stress, with the go go go, and with constant adrenaline running through my veins. And somewhere in the "abnormal" maybe I'll see the waters begin to calm.

What is joy anyway?

This year, 2014, has thrown a few curve balls at our family. Some have resulted in personal growth, some in just disappointment. Through some situations we've rejoiced, and others grieved until our whole body ached. 2014 has been a roller coaster to say the least. Every once in a while though, I'm blessed-more than I deserve-when I have a moment where I feel like the world stops, and my perspective is brought back into check.

Tonight was that moment.

We met up with some friends in Long Beach at a concert in the park, and it was breathtaking. Not the view (although it was really pretty incredible), not the band (let's be honest, we don't really go for them :), but the calm...the peace...it took my hurriedness away by the time I sat down on the perfectly laid out blanket. I'm not sure what it is about this place, but it just feels so peaceful. I sat sort of quiet throughout the night, just basking in the present moment. It's not often that happens. The setting is more like, rushing here, rushing there, filling out this report, calling for this appointment, telling Patrick what to pick up at the grocery store, get home make dinner quick, change diapers, yadda yadda yadda. My life isn't really in a "be in the moment" stage right now.

The peace washed over me and it was simply incredible. I enjoyed spending time with wonderful people, and was even grateful that my son stayed up until 9pm to let Mommy have some grown up time.

We left, and then came home. Put jammies on, and he said, "Mommy, duermase mi nino." We layed down on my bed, he rested his head on my chest, and I sang him the song my Grandma sang me...

"Duermase mi nino, duermase ya
Porque esta nino, muy cansada estan
la la la, la la la"
(Don't know if those are the right words-that's just what I remember my Grandma singing :)

I stroked his blonde, thin hair and sang those words over and over. His eyes grew heavy, he snuggled his arms in tight and fell asleep. I stopped signing and just stared at this beautiful boy. How did I get so lucky as to be the mother to this incredible child? Time stood still, and I laid there for just a few minutes longer. I remember that feeling of him cuddling with me-his body warmer than mine. I recall the smell of grass on him mixed with oatmeal soap that we just washed his hands with. And my heart began to run over. My joy was complete.

I really think it's in those moments that I'm reminded of what joy really looks like. This is joy. The extremely full week I just came out of-that doesn't even matter-this, this is joy. All 42 hours of unmedicated labor and then a c-section were worth this reminder that life is beautiful, precious, and so very sacred.

And it's not that life without a kid is lacking in joy. Quite the contrary. I believe joy is waiting for you to discover it, no matter what life stage you're in. This just happens to be the easiest way I discover my joy.

Don't forget to appreciate the joy in your life. It's there, I promise. Sometimes what's needed from us is a little moment and space for the joy to be revealed in it's full glory.

No words

G,

You'll have to excuse me and my poor way with words tonight. I just came from the hotel bar where myself and a BUNCH of others toasted to you. It was kind of weird though without you there, because it was totally your kind of party. A bunch of choral people, drinking, laughing, loving...it was definitely your kind of party.

I'm sure you saw (in some way or another) the service held in your honor today. It was beautiful. But I'm not going to lie, it was really draining. I don't remember grieving that deeply for anyone else in my life thus far. I'm going to choose to be grateful on that one. There were so many different perspectives spoken tonight. All about your childhood, your career, the lives you've touched, the love you spread to so many. A couple of things really spoke to me tonight. Things that made me realize how intimate of a relationship you and I had-you also had that with so many. So many people I didn't know-you touched their lives in such a similar way to mine. And it's funny because while that could be taken as me not feeling special or unique, I actually see the scope of your influence to surpass maybe even more than you knew! Or maybe that was your intention all along-to get to the innermost person and be deeply connected to the core of who they are. Either way, your sphere of influence was great. And just like A said, "I don't like speaking in the past tense"-neither do I. I think your influence continues to perpetuate forward. Each one of the people you knew is better because of you. And M charged us all to be responsible in carrying that forth into the world. I'm going to. And I'm certain many more just like me will as well.

It still feels weird to see all these choral folk, Jon, and not you. Not sure how long I'll feel that way. Or if I'll ever get over it. But for now I'll use this medium to share with you what I always would in person. There are so many things I wanted to share with you tonight. Stories that I know you would crack up over, moments watching C be hilarious, and mindless shenanigans that always ensue around the choral folk. (I shared the kissing love spot story with her by the way. She laughed and didn't remember at all, lol!) So many things I wanted to share with you, as I always have. But you're not there for me to tell these things face to face. So I trust that somewhere, somehow you just know. You know what went on tonight-to see how much people loved you (and their stories of how much you loved them). I trust that you saw how deeply moved people were to have known you. 

I know you live on, and will continue to do so because I met S for the first time tonight. She told me how she's been teaching for two years and isn't quite sure if she's in the right place. She said you told her that she has to talk to me, so she's been asking all your friends where to find "Andrea." We chatted for a little bit tonight-and what a cool person. I gave her my email address, and I'm really hoping we keep in contact. She told me that you've been mentoring her, and she feels it an honor to be the last mentee you had. I remember that feeling-every time I walked away from us hanging out I felt stronger, better, more empowered, and so loved. I remember that so clearly.

I had some interesting encounters too with people of my past. I talked briefly with L before the service started, told her I was doing foster care and adoption social work. She didn't say much at the time, but then I saw her after the service and she sought me out. She said I was an amazing teacher and that there are students out there that are missing out because I'm not teaching. Pretty incredible what she said actually. I don't feel great at all around all these other "greats." On the way to Tucson I asked Patrick if I made a mistake by leaving music. He told me I could always go back. And I've really given thought to it, but here are some of the other interactions I had tonight. KT of all people came up to me and wanted to tell me how much she admired the fact that I left teaching for purpose of a heart's calling. Kinda random, and yet, wow. Wasn't expecting that at all. PM also said a similar thing and wished me well. S and I had an incredible discussion about how you-you, were the only one that got it. You were the only one that supported my decision to leave teaching, to follow my heart. And I'll be honest G, I'm not entirely sure where this call on my life is going to end up, but I know big things are ahead. Selfishly, I'm sad I can't share those with you over coffee or drinks. But truthfully, I feel spurred to become better, to become more influential, and to create greater change in this world. I remember you once said, "We teach music, we're not curing cancer." And yet, the power of music-what brought us all together today-that is a powerful, powerful force. So maybe it's closer to curing cancer than you think. 

What an honor it is to know you. Yes, that's present tense. To me, you live on. That's not denial, that's an intentional statement that I plan to carry forward from today. It is an honor to have shared these many years with you in this capacity. From the moment that you congratulated me for making it into All-State Jazz as my student teacher, to the night I dropped you off at the Long Beach airport for one of your many trips back to Stockton just a couple of months ago, and beyond. I carry you with me. I always will. Thank you for believing in me, for loving me, for setting me up for success, for encouraging my potential, for teaching me about life, for being the example I aspire to be. Thank you for laughing with me, hugging with me, sharing with me, and being compassionate with me. How remarkable you are.

Love always,

Andrea

To: G

German,

I can't fall asleep tonight, even though my eyes are burning so badly. You see, I got a call from a friend today telling us that you had passed away. That you were gone. It didn't make any sense to me, so I texted Sandy. When I saw her immediately show up as the pending call, my heart dropped. There was a lump in my throat. She said that you had a stroke and died in Italy. She said Matt called her, and I cried even harder. I somehow wanted to believe that Sandy was mistaken, that she heard a rumor from a Mesa High student, and you know those crazy Mesa High kids :) But she said Matt called her. Matt's your best friend. The rest is sort of a blur. I think I felt it necessary to tell as many people as possible, so I didn't have a chance to sit with my emotions. That didn't really work. I texted with some friends I haven't talked to in a while, and it doesn't make sense, G. I was just dropping you off at the airport a couple of months ago after a good coffee talk. We had just talked about life, and discussed huge decisions (like they always seem to come up when we're together). You had just admired Denzel and told me how beautiful he was, and smart. You had just hugged me and said, "Thanks friend."

I looked through some of your pictures on Facebook, and I increasingly could not make sense of the news I was just given. I even told Patrick, "But he's right here (pictures on the screen), how can he be gone?" I don't get it. It doesn't make sense.

I've known for 3 hours now, and I expect it to get better, but right now I can't really deal. It seems so surreal, so dreamlike. It doesn't make sense. German, you were the one who taught me about life. You taught me how important it was to feel, to express, to dream, to love, to inspire, and to follow your calling. You taught me that. I looked up to you when I was 16, when you were my student teacher. You had a passion for music that paralleled your passion for making a difference in lives. I saw you grow as a teacher when I was in college, and even had the honor to be your student teacher. What a blast we had! Do you remember all the jokes we made that only you and I got? Do you remember how much coffee was consumed before PLCs, concerts, finals? Do you remember the deep conversations we had, not just about music and teaching, but about life and purpose? Taking over your program at MHS was really hard. Those kids worshipped you. And rightfully so, I was doing my best, but you were a tough act to follow. And yet, you NEVER allowed ANYONE to speak badly about me. You set me up for success, just like you always did. You believed in me so much, from day one, through my student teaching, and through my career change. Of everyone, you were the one who accepted me as Andrea, not "Andrea who was supposed to be an amazing choral teacher." You supported my decision to follow my heart's calling, supported me, and encouraged me the whole way. My mentor German became my friend.

We continued to get together whenever possible, both in AZ and CA. I still think it's hilarious how Jon knows Patrick and I know you...crazy. I was overjoyed when you sent me the picture of your rings. I'm so sorry friend, that you weren't able to say your vows to the man you loved. I can't stop thinking about him and feeling so helpless that I live 20 minutes away and have no idea how to help him. I'll make sure to check in with him often.

I'm really writing you because the tables have turned. I'm now the one who needs therapy, needs direction, needs some coping skills, and this is the best thing I could come up with. Because you see, I would have loved to have said goodbye. I never thought there was a goodbye so close ahead. I was so looking forward to the day you'd be here in Long Beach, which was soon! I was looking forward to hearing all about your trip. I never planned to say goodbye, but I need some way to tell you what you did for me. Because it's no small miracle that I am who I am today largely because of you. Ironically, I'm sitting here with no words to say thank you, because there aren't elegant words enough. Or maybe I don't want to believe we won't ever have another coffee date, or text each other with big life changes anymore. I don't want to think that the impact you had on your sphere of influence has stopped momentarily. I can't bear the thought that Denzel won't be able to know you when he's old enough to appreciate your wisdom. And I refuse to believe that it stops here. Because as much as I can't come to grips with you being gone, I REFUSE to let your influence stop. You didn't only change my life, German, you taught me how to live. So while you continue to sing with that incredible voice of yours, the ripple effect of you will continue for generations to come. See, because I plan to carry all that you've taught me and spread it wherever I can. I can't even imagine the numerous lives you've touched through music making, through relationship, through the intimacy of knowing you.

Facebook is blowing up with pictures of you all over the place. It's hard to see you every where and think that pictures are what remain. You will forever remain in my heart, and in my mind.

I love you, G,

Andrea