Light, Love, Hope

My boss walked over to my desk the other day to find my website open.  We weren’t particularly busy that day, so he didn’t mind me writing at all.  He was simply inquiring as to what the page was that I was on.  I hesitated a moment, then I admitted that it was my website.  Well … mine and Greg’s.  I corrected the words just as they escaped my lips, as Greg writes occasionally, too.  This sparked curiosity in my boss, and he probed a little bit more.  He wanted to know what our website was about and how I got started with it.

I could feel myself tense up a little as I prepared to answer him.

I felt like I was opening myself up and becoming so vulnerable at that very moment in time.

But I sighed to release the anxiety I was creating in myself for fear of his judgement … and I started to explain.

Our website came about several years ago due to Greg encouraging me to write again.  You see, I enjoyed writing poetry and words of love so many years ago that I’ve lost count.  I would pour myself into what I was writing, concerning myself not with whether I was actually any good or not but with simply getting the words out.

Then tragedy struck.

My sister was snatched away from my life in the worst possible way.  My world shattered and crashed around my feet on July 9, 2001.  I lost my best friend.  My lunch companion.  My link to childhood memories.  The one person I felt I could count on in this life.

And I lost a huge piece of myself the day she died.

My desire to write became nonexistent.  No words could be found.  I could barely breathe or go from one minute to the next; writing fell by the wayside.

Until …

Greg offered his assistance in providing this outlet for me.  A form of therapy, if you will, was presented with the ability for me to write out my thoughts and feelings as they came.

All of those thoughts swirled in my head, but instead, I gave the short version answer to my boss …

Light Love Hope was born out of such a heartbreaking situation, in an effort to help … even if it’s just one person.  It’s an outlet for my struggles and my triumphs, but it’s so much more than that.  It’s letting people know that they are not alone.   I write to provide hope to people that are struggling, and I try to encourage.

My boss was surprised, but he was so supportive.  It’s a form of a ministry, in a sense.  And I take great pride in “my baby.”  He actually encouraged me to keep writing!

So … here I am, trying desperately to catch up on the prompt words provided for the Write 31 Day Challenge!   🙂

Every single one of us has a longing in our hearts to belong.  Whether you claim to be a “loner” or feel you’re an outgoing person that is the life of the party, deep down within all of us is a desire to be accepted for who we are.

Walking into a room full of people that you don’t know is quite intimidating.  It doesn’t matter if it’s a party, or if you’re going into a restaurant.  You feel you will be judged, because sadly, you have been on the receiving end of this far too many times.  Yet, what if the people on the other side of those doors welcomed you with open arms?  They are certainly supposed to when you enter a church, but that hasn’t always been the case for me and my family.  Feeling welcomed and as if you belong should never be in question when you walk through the doors of a church, but often times, those very people in those pews will look at you with judgement in their eyes.  They won’t include you into their little groups no matter what, but then you know that isn’t the church for you.  And you move on.

My daughter – 14 years old and full of beauty, from her long hair to her smile that could light up a room – was afraid to walk into a room yesterday and asked me to go with her.  She’s some where between a woman and a child.  And at that moment, this child needed her mother to walk in with her and show her that the people weren’t scary after all.  Now, they weren’t over excited that we were there, and they didn’t greet us with a smile.  They really just looked at us as we glanced around at the baked goods on the table that they had for sale.  We were picking up food from a fundraiser and thought we’d sneak a peek at the goodies.  While it was just a small room with three little old ladies inside, it was intimidating to my daughter.  She didn’t know what to expect, and neither did I really.  But we went in anyway hoping for the best.  It wasn’t anything spectacular, but we picked out our goodies and left the building.  The people weren’t mean.  They weren’t overfriendly either.  But, I think she discovered that her fear was not justified.  The little old ladies weren’t a threat to her after all.

Honestly … in life, that is all you can do is hope for the best in every situation we’re faced with.  Face it.  Don’t fear it!

But if you want to have a sense of belonging, you should also work harder on including people into your circle.  It isn’t one sided, you know.   What I do when I go into a room like that now is make eye contact with the people and smile.  Hopefully they will smile back as we say hello and we both have a pleasant experience.  But if you walk into the room unwilling to make eye contact or speak … that doesn’t give the people in the room a nice warm feeling of you either.  It truly goes both ways.

When was the last time you included someone in your plans that you normally wouldn’t?  Have you invited people to attend a function with you or just come into the quiet of your home and enjoy a cup of coffee and good conversation?

I’m trying to teach my daughter to not fear the people she encounters, like in the room with the baked goods.  I’m also trying to teach her to include others and be welcoming, herself.  It feels good to be accepted, and it also feels good to invite others in.  Be that person.   In inviting, you also open yourself to rejection.  I know.  But that isn’t on you – all you can do is invite.  It is up to others if they actually take you up on it.

We’ve talked about how everyone has a story and how important it is to share it.  But, why?  Why share?  Because someone out there stands to benefit from your story.  Someone out there is struggling and needs to know that you struggled, too, but you made it to the other side and are a survivor.  There are people going through very similar things that you’ve just gone through, so why not share in an effort to provide hope?

It’s no secret with the “female issues” I struggled with.  I was reminded of them when I was re-reading some entries from last year’s 31 Day Challenge.  My emotions were so strong back then, and rightly so.  I was really going through a lot with not only what was happening with my body but with fighting the insurance company as well.  Fast forward a year, and a lady came to me in tears asking for my help.   She started having some “female issues” of her own and was desperate to speak to me to learn what all I went through, how it helped, what doctor I used for the surgery and procedures, etc.   Thankfully, my employer is very understanding, and we were allowed to sit in the kitchen at my workplace and talk for about an hour and a half.   Her face showed her worry and concern, and at different points in our conversation she began to cry.  I comforted and reassured her as best I could.  She seemed a bit better after I shared my experience and gave her hope that her situation wasn’t as grim as she once thought.

Whatever happened with this lady?

Well, she’s facing surgery tomorrow.  Yet, she isn’t as wracked with fear at this point. She’s nervous, yes, but she’s better in knowing what I went through and how her situation isn’t quite as bad in some respects.  But she’s reassured that I’m walking around almost as good as new now, and she has hope that she will be, too!

And that, my friends, is why you should share your story … someone out there NEEDS you to do so!