I’ve gone M.I.A. on this thing for a while. I met a guy, he was perfect. He was handsome, and had all of the qualities I’ve ever wanted in a partner. I was falling for him, but none of it was real. I have to wonder how much of it was, anyway. A few months into the relationship I began to discover holes in what he was telling me, things didn’t match up, and it started to unravel. Much of what I was told throughout the relationship was a lie to cover up the marriage I was told had ended long before we met. The lies got bigger, and bigger, but so did the truth. It ended in heartache, not only for me, but for the woman who learned of her husband’s unfaithfulness. The most difficult part is having the ability to differentiate who he really was, and who I had come to know. I cannot believe they’re one in the same. I keep asking myself why. What was the purpose of this being put on my life? I came to Kansas City with the hopes of starting new, giving myself opportunities I had not gotten back home. When I met him, I thought, this is it, this is why I was called to move here, to find my person. Finally. Once I began to see the spiral, I also began to question God’s intentions. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t ask “why” enough. WHY. Today I believe that question was answered. It was for her. God knew I could take this, that I had the strength to bear the burden of heartache, so that this woman may be freed of the toxic relationship she was in. She deserves better, and He needed someone to show her that. This is the task I was given, because He knew I could. In return, He protects me. He shows me the blaring kindness and support of those around me who care about me, and gives me the motivation to be the best version of myself. I hope that this man finds grace, and I hope that this woman finds peace. I trust in God to bring amazing and wonderful things into my life, for I am His.

2 Corinthians 5:7

Lately I’ve been experiencing a high level of anxiety, sometimes there was a cause, other times it was brought on by my own thoughts. There is a lot of evil going on in the world right now, and all of it out of my control. The only thing I have power over is how I choose to feel on a daily basis. I woke up this morning feeling light headed, heart pounding, nauseous, and with a bad gut feeling, carried over from the previous night.

It’s basically a rule in the server world, the last table you get sat with will sit there forever. Today I didn’t mind. A woman and her older mother who seemed to suffer from some form of memory loss. They were sweet, and the older woman paid me a compliment I don’t want to forget. She said she enjoyed my presence. My presence. What a beautiful and profound thing to hear about yourself from a complete stranger. I want to keep that on my sleeve forever.

When I got home from work, I took Fenn out for a walk. The weather is beautiful for December, but still chilly enough to blush your cheeks and put a nip at your nose. We walked down side walks, through neighborhoods, and in an occasional yard in attempt to catch a squirrel. I let my mind zone out, finally feeling relaxed and without worry. As we walked, I studied the houses, making a mental checklist of what I did or didn’t like for my future home. I took in the warmth of the Christmas lights, wreaths, and garland strung up about the trees and doorways. Watched one man stringing the lights upon his tree as I walked by, and an elderly couple enjoying an early dinner together, feeling a comforting connection to all of them.

At the end of this day, I am revived.

I’ve lived in my new home for a month now, and I have to say I’ve ended up acclimating much faster than I had anticipated. I love the area, it’s a nice change from the college town I grew up in, and provides a new sense of adulthood. I turned 26 a week ago, which probably also has something to do with it. Still in the process of figuring out where everything is, but I can tell by my progressive road rage that I’m feeling more and more comfortable with my surroundings. I’ve already gone out more times in the last month than I feel I ever did back home, not being able to rely on my parents for socializing and companionship has forced me to seek out new options. This is a great thing for me. I’ve recently started back up at the gym, which is another positive change, and I’m very excited about the possibilities I’ve opened myself up to. I never would have felt entirely ready to move, the uncertainty of it was the most terrifying part. Forcing myself to go through the motions and not talk myself out of it (which is something I did for years) was a big step for me, and I’ve ultimately realized that putting myself out there and making myself vulnerable opened up a whole new world (cue Aladdin tunes). I’m comfortable here, and I’m happy here.

I’m at that point when you’ve had too much coffee and not enough food that you find yourself in a strange, drugged-out fog. I was hoping for good news this morning (as I am every morning), when the first thing I do is look at my phone in hopes of an e-mail or missed call from my potential (and hopeful) new home. Nothing. I’ve been not-so-patiently waiting on an answer about my application being or not being approved for almost a month. As of right now, I am not truly sure where I will be living in 3 weeks. If you know me, you know that in general, I am a planner. Sure, I can be spontaneous when asked if I want to grab a drink last minute or pick up a friend who maybe had too many drinks, but when it’s a big deal, I like to know what to expect. The most frustrating part about the process is there is nothing I can do other than to wait, and if you haven’t gathered, I’m nearly the most impatient person on the planet. There are so many things going on that I need to be able to anticipate and mentally prepare for (Alana will be back for a few weeks, Dad’s birthday is coming up, moving in general). It has been such a frustrating and drawn out process, I’m really starting to feel the pressure of it all. I’m pretty sure my endurance is being tested here, I also like to give up when things get difficult, and I’m trying not to fail at it this time. I’ve spent the majority of the day hugging a pillow and indulging in a Gilmore Girls marathon.

The worst part about being single is having to kill all the spiders myself. 

Last Thursday I drove Mom up to Jefferson City, MO (about 30-45 minutes) to pick up her new car (which later gave me the motivation to finally deep clean mine). As a treat, and since we were already there, we did a little shopping, went out for chinese food (which I’ve been craving for-ev-er), and stopped by a Cold Stone Creamery (if you’ve never been, you need to go, it’s my favorite).

We were standing there, mulling over the vast number of combinations of ice cream, candies, and nuts laid out in front of us, completely oblivious to those around us. Once we finally decided (though, lets be honest, no one actually decides until it comes time to order and a split decision has to be made), we hopped in line. A nice gentleman with his two sons asked if they had accidentally stepped in front of us, we assured them they hadn’t, joking over how indecisive we are. Next it was our turn to order, I buckled down and made the most important decision of my life, “umm, I’ll have the oatmeal cookie ice cream with crunch bars, please”. Whew. Mom and I stepped up to pay, when the young man working (he was attractive, and it probably didn’t hurt that he had just given me ice cream) told us, “it’s your lucky day, ladies, your ice cream has been paid for!”. What? The man with his sons had paid for our treat! We were so surprised, grateful, and touched by the unsuspected kindness of a complete stranger. It’s moments like this that I feel should be shared. Funny story, Mom’s fortune cookie from dinner said she would be getting a surprise later that night.