Tag Archives: life

An Epilogue to The Past, A Prologue to The Beginning



Every morning when I wake up and get out of bed, there are certain facts I may not always be aware of. Mainly, each day could bring anything. It could be my last, my best, my worst, my craziest, or my saddest. On this day, I could meet a person I think of every day for the rest of my life. My life could change drastically or it might not. I might crawl under my covers at night, failing to see the purpose in the past sixteen hours I spent out and about.

This past year has been many things. The last 365 days have impacted who I am and how I see this world, and so many things have changed. It’s been the best, the worst, the craziest, the saddest, the happiest, the most confusing series of days in my life.

There is a lot left to figure out, to deal with, to come to terms with; and deciding what to do with this blog is just one small part. For a number of reasons, I have considered giving up writing and deleting this blog. I can hardly do either. But as it appears, I will be putting writing on hold and eventually taking down all content from this blog.

As a sort of “good bye (for now)”, I am posting a twelve-part (hopefully twelve parts, we’ll see) “epilogue”, describing my last year and all the glorious (or not so glorious) things that came with it. Well, I’m actually not sharing my secrets – just mainly feelings. But they are very personal.

I hope you can relate to some of my feelings or that I may encourage you in some way. I will be posting the parts as they come – I am guessing every other day or so. Stay tuned!

If you had to describe your last twelve months in one word, what would it be? After much deliberation, I think mine is “intense.” 😀 Tell me yours in the comments!

Gottes Geschenk


December 3, 1949. Hamburg, Germany.

It’s raining and a bride in black rubber boots rushes with her soon husband-to-be to the automobile ready to take them to the church. The tires get caught in mud on the way. They are late for the ceremony. Pictures outside are taken, the guests holding umbrellas and wearing anything but festive footwear.

But they were in love. She had been told to ignore that skinny soldier boy, recently home after the lost war. He was nothing but trouble. But trouble stuck around and sixty-five years later, he sits at her hospital bedside, holding her hand. No one hears his soft voice as he speaks to her. Is he telling her he loves her? Loves her the way he did on the first day? Loves her even more? Is he telling her everything will be all right and she will be Home soon?

Maybe there are memories flashing through his head. Maybe he is remembering their early years together, their tiny apartment, the way she smiled, the way she did her hair. They had a daughter and then two boys. When the fourth child was on its way, they moved out of the city.

Maybe he remembers going to church alone at first. It was too far to walk with a new baby. Maybe he smiles, remembering how the people greeted him and told him young, single men were very welcome. Maybe he smiles, remembering telling them thank you but he was married and had four children. He didn’t know his mother would live to be 103 and looking young would be a blessing and a curse for his coming descendants.

He remembers them growing up, getting married, having children of their own. There were sorrows and many hardships. Seventeen grandchildren, but one was killed only weeks after her happy wedding. One married the wrong man and he kidnapped their three children and disappeared. Four were far away and rarely seen.  Others came only when they needed money.

They prayed. Every day they prayed. Every single day they prayed for every child, every grandchild, every great-grandchild. They prayed for everyone they knew. They blessed people with their generosity. They loved and were loved.

It was a rich life. It was long. There were so many memories — some simple, others extraordinary. It was worth it.

Today is my grandparents’ 65th anniversary (church wedding). My grandmother is in the hospital, dying. I remember the last time I spoke to her. She called me. She’s been so sick lately, her pain is hardly bearable. Her voice was weak and slow, but she told me she wanted to ask me a favor. Opa had just gone out to the pharmacy, so she said she had to use her chance to ask me to make a request for a song on the radio station she and my grandfather like to listen to. She wanted to surprise him on December 3rd with a song she picked for him. “Du bist Gottes Geschenk” (you are God’s gift). I wouldn’t trade my grandparents for any other in the world.




World Suicide Prevention Day 2014


I knew World Suicide Prevention Day was coming up soon; so when I googled it today, I was glad I didn’t miss it. I’ve been wanting to touch on this issue for a while now and even filmed a vlog that I didn’t end up uploading.

I have been fortunate enough not to have been closely affected by the tragedy of suicide. No one in my immediate or extended family, my close friends or their families has had to face losing a loved one this way. Still, whenever I hear about it – and it happens a lot – it breaks my heart. What makes it worse is when the people you expect it of the least contemplate taking their own life. It makes me wonder if I know my friends well enough to know that they are not suicidal.

I’m not suicidal – at least, I don’t think I am; but sometimes when I’m feeling especially low and frustrated with myself and my failures, I have to admit my feelings can get very dark.

A lot of you may know I am quite the shy introvert. I like being by myself simply because being around people makes me uncomfortable and I don’t know how to act around them. That doesn’t mean I like the way I am or am even happy when I’m all alone.

It’s not good to be alone. Humans were made to be together, to interact and build each other up, to encourage and challenge one another. I admit some people are difficult to be around. It’s hard to like them, encourage and help them. Sure, I’m one of those people. I’ve been called rude and mean, very disagreeable, selfish, proud and taciturn. It’s hard to be my friend. I can’t explain it. Sometimes I wonder why everyone else can get along but it’s as if I don’t exist. If you’re such a friendly, open and talkative person, what would be so hard about talking to me? I wonder if there’s a sign on my forehead “Not worth it.”

I am glad I am a Christian and that Jesus saved me from myself. He is the only reason I am alive today and the only thing worth living for. Were it not for Him, I’d have killed myself long ago. Because of Him, I know that my failures are forgiven. Past, present, future. That doesn’t make being a failure easier, but it gives me hope. The only path to true happiness is salvation through Jesus Christ. I know I can do the right thing because He gives me strength. I know I can help people and love them because I’ve been given perfect love.

I need a lot of help. There’s no doubt about that. Many things overwhelm me and I can lose sight of truth and despair. This happens to a lot of people. Open your eyes and try to find that one today. People can be difficult beings, but I dare you to do the hard thing and take time for that person – or even the one who seems like the happiest person alive. Maybe he’s a shattered mess inside.

I love people and from the bottom of my heart, I wish we’d get along more easily. Really, really, really.

And if you feel like you haven’t a friend in the world, I love you.

Summer with You

Source: Pinterest

Source: Pinterest

I thought I loved summer. But it’s actually just you.

I thought I loved warmth and sunshine. It’s you.

It’s hard to admit loneliness, but it’s not hard saying I want to be with you.


I love summer. With you.

I love warm nights in the city. With you.

I love you. With me.

Source: Pinterest

Source: Pinterest

But you’re not. We’re not.

Probably never will be.


Still a girl can dream.

About holding hands and strolling through crowds on an endless summer night.

About talking and laughing. Lots of laughing.

About sitting side by side, not saying anything.

About slinging an arm around your neck and containing a ridiculous smile while trying to whisper into your ear how much I love you. And need you.

About surrender.

Source: Pinterest

Source: Pinterest

Or I can picture us walking under star-filled skies – the lights so big and bright you can almost touch them.

I picture us kissing by the moonlight.

Running in torrents of rain.

Hiding from the crashes and rumbles of thunderous summer storms.

I have my own version of violence. With you.


But don’t mind me.

I’ve learned to laugh at myself.

And I’ll be fine. Without you.