Jacob and Lydia: The Beginnings

There was a certain night that I knew was going to be special. It wasn't really very different than other nights we had gone out for dinner... but this time. Well, the day before had been a hell of an emotional roller coaster and this night was bringing the clearest sense of peace and belongingness that I hadn't felt... ever.

Learning to Praise

Do you ever feel alone?

I do.

Do you ever feel inadequate?

I do.

Do you ever look around and see a world that seems perfect and wonder how you keep managing to mess yours up? Do you sit surrounded by friends smiling and laughing but feel profoundly sad at the same time? Afraid to go home at the end of the night?

Me. That's me. me. me.

So this is it. I've landed on it. I've found the words to express what has been giving me so much trouble lately. I've been kept awake at night with so many thoughts. I have been worrying about so many things that wisdom tells me is best to leave unnamed. I have developed a defence mechanism to deal with these sorts of things and it is that I pretend that everything is okay, that its not real, or that I can handle it. I am trying to break that habit so I hate that I can't be candid with y'all. Because the reason why I write is because I don't want to be fake. I don't want to be one of those bloggers who has the solution for everything. I struggle too. I struggle so much. And it is so important to me that I share this because the ideal of a perfect image is probably the most damaging influence in my life personally - something I am hoping that my honesty will keep others from experiencing as well. But, there are times for everything and at the moment it is best to leave some things unspoken. Just please understand that my silence in this moment is not the same as me pretending. I am not trying to be perfect.

Mustard Greens

Cheesy bean and rice burrito with sides of collard greens with mixed vegetables and grapes.

One of my favorite kinds of places in the entire world are farmer's markets. A close second are the produce sections in the grocery store. I love to skip through the aisles flitting from one bin to another to admire all of the fresh food. I constantly get distracted and forget what vegetable I had originally intended to buy and, if I'm not careful, I will end up bringing strange fruits and vegetables to the check out counter and then make the check out take twice as long because I am too busy telling the cashier how I am going to cook it when I get home.

SO

If this is the case at the grocery store... imagine me at the farmers market.

Last Saturday I went with my roommate and another co-worker to the local farmer's market here in Pensacola. I had a blast! There is so much to see at this market. People will come all the way from Alabama just to set up here in Pensacola. There are a lot of craft like tables that sell things such as homemade clothes, toiletries, jewelry, games, yard decorations, household items, pottery - just about anything you can think of. The food tables are equally diverse. There are baked goods, fresh produce, refreshing drinks, snacks, jams, jellies, kettle corn, honey, preserved meat, fresh meat, different grains... There is also a lot of music there. A bluegrass band comes every week along with several solo musicians. People will play guitar, piano, banjo, violin, drums, and even foreign instruments that I don't recognize. This market is the place to be.

Can Thorns Be Beautiful?

I really don't know how to start this. There are so many places where I could begin. I am learning that stories do not always have a real beginning. A time when the story didn't exist and then it began. It has always been there, its just that we haven't been able to see it. Its like saying a rose bush doesn't exist just because you haven't seen the blossom yet.

I'll begin with the roots.

My father used to play drums, piano and guitar. My mother used to make explosives in her backyard. 

I played piano and jumped out of trees.

So my parents decided to put me in gymnastics.

I enjoyed my days at the gymnasium and found a safe outlet for my wildness. I would run laps around the mat, do stretches, climb the rope, swing on the bars, jump from the vault, and balance on the beam. I learned flips and tricks and handstands. I could do cartwheels on the beam. First at floor level then little by little higher until I was at the highest level. Next up was learning to do handstands on the beam. I could already do them on the mat. But I began to collapse. In the middle of cartwheels or handstands my arms would give way and I would crumple into a pile on the floor. At first I thought it was a balance issue so I kept trying. My instructor and parents were concerned, and when my arms and wrists began to hurt I realized too that there was a problem. I quit gymnastics and began to visit the doctors.

We went to countless doctors. All of them ignored my problems and told us it was growing pains. They told me to wear a wrist brace indefinitely. We went to CVS and tried on different braces and picked out black ones. As soon as we checked it out we opened the package and I put them on. It was a relief for my injured wrists and I was glad to have them. I wore them all day, everyday. I went to bed with them on, took showers with them on, I played baseball with them on. I never took it off. My skin inside the braces began to turn white and softened and the whole thing stank. We began to take them them off to wash them but while they were off I would sit quietly and not move. My muscles began to atrophy.

“Organ Favorites” - Lynne A. Lauderdale

Hello Everyone, I don't have anything new for y'all but I wrote something earlier in the semester and have been disappointed that I had no use for it. I was trying to write a concert report for one of my classes but I realized that his one wasn't valid because it was merely a recital with only one person playing. If  there had been at least one other person performing in the recital I would have been able to use this bit for academic purposes but alas, the recital did not fit the criteria for the assignment. I have been so peeved about it all this time that I have finally decided to publish this as a blog post here on Experience. Enjoy. :)

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I have been looking forward to attending Dr. Lynne Lauderdale organ recital because the instrument has always held a special place in my heart and because I have never been to an organ recital before. She played six pieces, three of which I took special notice of.

Dancing at Lughnasa

Two weeks ago Friday I went to a play. The last time I remember going to a play was with my third grade class in South Carolina. We saw a silly version of Cinderella that I absolutely despised. This play however, was much different than the one from so many years ago. It was called Dancing at Lugnsasa and was being put on by theatre department of the university I'm attending so consequently it was free to all college students. (Say whaa??) I didn't go alone of course and went with my boyfriend and two others.

Somehow muscadines have become synonymous with an idealized past and despite their disappointing taste brings with them a comforting sense of belonging. 

Wearing Shoes Every Day: College

As many of you know already, this was my first week of college. As fewer of you may know, this is my first real weekend in ten years. Why do I say that? Well, I've been home-schooled all of my life except for half a semester in third grade about ten or eleven years ago. It may not have occurred to you before, but I have never relished the weekends like you non-home-schoolers/working people do. What, it's Friday? Last day of school? Nope. Not for me. I did school on Saturday too. Mayyybe I went to the beach on Wednesday... but that's besides the point. I just never got it. What is so special about Friday and Saturday?

Keeping it real here. My first day of school pictures for the first time since 3rd Grade were put on hold while my brother and I gathered up all the chickens that had gotten out and put them back in their yard. 

Well, yesterday... I got it y'all. I left my last class in the rehearsal hall at 2:15 eager to chunk my backpack in my car and hurry up and relax. When I sat down in the chairs in the lobby of my favorite building, The Center for Fine and Performing Arts at the University of West Florida, I sighed in relief. I'm done! It's the weekend! Yay! That my friends, is a feeling this home-schooled girl never imagined she would feel. Yes. I've jumped on board. I love the weekends too. I promise, I'll stop making fun of all a' y'all now. ;)

I've experienced some other new things this week besides just the weekend though. Like a daily alarm clock setting; wearing make-up every day; having to find decent clothes everyday; packing a lunch or at least making sure I have enough money to buy lunch so that I don't keel over dead in the middle of the day.; carrying my water bottle around and not losing it (although I haven't been the most successful with that.); wearing shoes all day every single day; and here's the million dollar question I know y'all have been waiting for... how did I deal with all the people?

Biblical Horizons, 2015

Last week, July 20-24th, Mom and I had the privilege to attend the Biblical Horizons conference in Valparaiso Florida. It was a week long event that started at 8:30 in the morning and concluded at 8:30 in the evening after a long break during the afternoon. 

Our esteemed speakers this year were; Jeff Meyers, Uri Brito, Richard Bledsoe, Peter Leithart, and James Jordon

The topics considered this year were:

The Book of Joshua by James B. Jordon
Wealth Management in the Gospel According to St. Luke by Jeffrey J. Meyers
End of the End: Orientation to Revelation by Peter J. Leithart
The Christian Counseling Movement by Uri Brito
A look into psychiatric drugs based on experiences as a chaplain at his local hospital by Richard Bledsoe (This one didn't have a title so this is the best I could come up with)

I had a good time, and although the lectures were a little beyond me I did manage to glean some good counsel and being exposed to new ideas is almost always a good thing. I met new people and had good conversations in addition to spending some quality time with my mother. I learned new music as well at the nightly Vespers services both by singing and, although it wasn't planned, playing the music because their original pianist had to leave town suddenly. We ate lunches with people, spent time at the beach, did a little shopping, and stayed late in the evenings at the fellowships/meals/parties afterwards.

Although it might not be exactly descriptive of the conference itself, here are some pictures of our adventures during our breaks in the afternoons.

Tonight I Sit

Insomnia. I'm not sure if I have it or not but sometimes, like tonight, even though I am sleepy, I can't seem to fall asleep.

I tossed and turned in my bed. I curled up into a tiny ball. I hugged my pillow so tight that the feathers were about to burst. I talked to my sister. (One of the perks of sharing a room. Also one of the drawbacks if you are the one sleeping and your sister is the one who can't.) I got down from my bed and did some sit-ups in the middle of the floor. Finally I announced to my sleepy roommate that I was going outside to listen to some music.

Conveniently, I took a picture of this honeysuckle blossom a few nights ago. I can say that it is supposed to represent the sweet thoughts that came to me out of the dark night. ;)

As quietly as possible I opened the cantankerous piece of wood that we call a door and slipped out into the muggy Florida night. The air was heavy and the bugs were thick. I picked my way across the driveway to the sidewalk, being careful not to step on any toads, and sat myself down in the broken beach chair that was abandoned there after our last trip to the lake. Of course, because my hair is so thick and long and crazy, in the short amount of time it took me to get out there my earphones got all tangled up in my unruly locks. After extracting the wires from my hairy mess I was finally able to turn my music on.

What Have You Been Doing this Summer?

 "So what have you been doing all summer?"

That is the question I was asked yesterday at lunch that I never really answered. I started to answer by leaning back in my chair (or forward, I don't remember, I just know I moved around in my seat) and saying something like "Oh man, a lot has happened this summer. My life is so different now than what is used to be." I paused awkwardly for a second trying to figure out how to proceed but then my phone rang and I was saved from answering immediately. After the phone call I kind of avoided going back to the question and our conversation continued on swimmingly thanks to the "amiableness" of my companion.

Still I kind of feel bad for never answering. It's not that I didn't want to, I was just unprepared to answer such a simple question because I feel like I have a complicated answer. It's not that a lot has happened this summer, but a lot has come into fruition this summer. I mention often, in somewhat veiled language, the difficult life I had before and to be sitting here now in my current situation is something that is nothing short of miraculous to me.

Friends From South Carolina

Some of you may not know this about me, but I was born in South Carolina. I'm not sure if I am what people call a "Southern Belle" since my mom was from Missouri and my dad lived in Michigan - his mom however grew up in the marshes of Alabama so I tend to identify myself as a Southern girl. I lived in the foot hills of the Smokey Mountains and grew up seeing snacks like pig ears, onion rings, and pickled eggs on the shelves in the grocery store. We didn't buy them of course because of my mixed heritage but I ate them sometimes at friends houses. The dirt roads were orange and the pine trees were so tall they seemed always about ready to topple over on me. I painted T-shirts and fence posts with squashed poke-weed berries and I mashed the buttons on the elevators. My parents watched NASCAR and shouted at the TV screen while I played in the backyard. I loved watching the Dukes of Hazard and would try to pull the same stunts as the General Lee did on my little pink and purple bicycle. I lived the first story of my life there in South Carolina for eleven years until we moved to Missouri. 

It's not the best picture, but it gets the point across, we went canoeing down Clear Water Creek. Oh, and there's that one kayak in the back.

While we lived there in my birth state we had many adventures, adventures that were shared with in particular, the Courtney family. This past week two of these long lost "family members" came to visit for a few days. I won't try to reconstruct our week for you but I just wanted to share a few pictures here on my blog instead of blowing up my Instagram feed. I'm thinking of all a' y'all, my sixty-two Instagram followers, so thank me please. ;) 

Orientation at University of West Florida 2015

I must warn y'all before you start reading this post that it is going to be pretty long. I just couldn't help myself this time!

 Okay.... what the heck Jamie!? Why are you turned backwards! Anyways, this was my group for orientation. 

These last five days have been super busy for me. It started out as a normal weekend on Friday. I drove myself to piano lessons, then went to teach a piano lesson. I filled up my gas tank, went to the bank and ran a few errands... I don't remember what they were but almost every Friday without fail I have something I have to go do. Saturday came and I woke up at 5 am to get ready to volunteer at a run that was going on in Pensacola called the Run 4 Hope. All proceeds from the run go to Christian charity organizations. My younger brother Levi decided to participate in the 5K run so he slapped on his boots and blue jeans and came along with us. My mom and I were working at a water booth at the one mile mark with other folks from our church. I've never volunteered at a run before so this was a fun new experience for me.

After the run there were food and drinks available for everyone and booths with information about the ministries the run was supporting. There was also a chin up bar where a competition got started to see who could do the most. I had fun cheering and watching everyone's neck muscles bulge and their faces turning red. The highest count was twenty two! Levi did eleven.

After the run I went to the farmers market and bought zucchini, cucumber, a cantaloupe, corn, and a spaghetti squash. After the market I stopped at Reynold's Music House in downtown Pensacola, did a little shopping at Target and TJ Max, then met up with Mom, Dad, and two of my younger brothers to go to the same adoption picnic we attended a year ago before we had met my four foster brothers. (I mention it briefly in this post here.) This time it was at the beach so we had a lot of fun.

After the picnic I was dropped back off to my car because I had to pick up some contact solution which I had forgotten to get earlier in the day. When I finally got home the day was almost over but I spent about an hour going through the music for church the next day.

Sunday morning came and I accidentally got up a half hour earlier than I needed to. *sad face*. Sunday's are normally pretty tiring for me but this Sunday was especially exhausting. After church everyone rushed out of the building as quickly as possible because everyone was going to head over to the Smith's house for a big summer fish fry/going away party for the Anderson family. The food and drinks were delicious, and we had all sorts of fun playing in the water. I went kayaking, swimming, paddle boarding and jet skiing. There were other things to do like playing ring toss, giant hula hoops, knee boarding, and getting pulled behind the boat on the biscuit and trying not to get knocked off. I pushed little kids on the swings and showed them interesting creatures you could find in the rocks and sand/muck of the bay.

This is downstairs at the Smith's house. Their home is raised up on stilts so there is plenty of space below for ping-pong, foosball, pool, a mini basketball hoop, Mr. Ron's shop, and plenty of storage for water toys and floats and what not.

When the party was over we didn't leave... my parents kept on talking. The sun had long since went to bed and I desperately wanted to follow. Alas, I was stuck there with no bed in sight. I mean, I like a good party, but you can't stay forever! When we finally got in the van to head home I said in a pitiful voice "I sure hope I don't have orientation tomorrow!"

All Sorts of Waters - Wild Beach Pictures

We went to the beach yesterday and that is what inspired me to write about all the different kinds of waters I've been to. I took pictures too so I'll be working them in throughout the text even though its not directly related.

I've had a pretty eclectic experience when it comes to growing up with different kinds of waters. Our family has always been active and my parents made a point to take us as many places as they could.

One of those places was the mountains. Mom and Dad would take the four of us kids (this was long before Jubal was born) on weekend camping trips so often that we practically didn't have time to put our sleeping bags away. We lived in South Carolina at the time so went to the Smokey Mountains, which is at the tail end of the Blue Ridge Mountain range. The drive was part of the adventure and I remember being able to recognize the roads because we went that way so often. Up there in the clouds we would go on hiking trips or playing in the freezing cold mountain streams, sliding down slippery rocks or standing underneath pounding waterfalls and swimming in the pools formed below them.

When we weren't in the mountains we would go to the lake. There was a lake called Lake Hartwell (we called it Lake Cartwheel) that we frequented. Once we had a bonfire there with some friends and Uncle Mike melted the souls of his shoes and my friend Emily swallowed a fish and got sick. Someone else got their fishing line stuck in a tree. Once time I went walking along the red clay shore a long ways from the group an found an old log and some dog poop. Other lakes we visited were Lake Jocassee and Lake Keowee which were much bigger and colder. I remember some kind of party at one of these big lakes. We went boating and water skiing and I almost lost my goggles. Another time I went with my friend for her birthday to Lake Keowee. There was a low rock cliff face, probably about thirty feet, and at the foot of the cliff a shallow shelf of rock just beneath the water . At the top of the cliff blue lines were painted on the rock and if you ran and jumped far enough out you would miss the rocks below and land safely in the icy cold water. I was there with my friend and her brother and their dad said he would give us a dollar if we would jumped off. Of course a dollar was a substantial sum of money in my mind back then so quick as a wink I ran through the blue lines and launched myself into the air. The fall was thrilling and folks cheered me when they saw my head bob up from the lake below. My friend and her brother were too scared and eventually their Dad said he would give them five dollars so they jumped too. I was mad at my friends because they got more money than me.

Being an Older Adoptive Sibling

Hello friends, it has been a while since I've posted on here.

Today I have something important to talk about. Although I can't share everything here online I must make you aware of the fact that we are no longer adopting the boys. Many things have contributed to this decision on my parents part and it is not my place to explain everything. Even so, everything I said before about loving being a big sister, about how I could see God leading us to these boys, all of that still applies. The time we had with them was hard but still a blessing. Maybe more for them than us, but I don't regret that time at all.

Having read different blogs and forums, I've noticed that people are always saying that nobody really talks about adoption that much. I wouldn't have known since all of these places were talking about it, but maybe I just stumbled upon the few rare gems. Since there is a need for more discussion on the subject I would like to share with y'all my story as an older sister in a local American adoption. I hope some of you other adoptive older siblings will find this story and get some encouragement out of it.

Easter 2015
We're just missing our older brother Zachary!

Floral Shorts and Muscadines Remind Me of His Mercy

A while back my mom took my sister and I shopping at a Spring sale Old Navy was having. Styles are cycling back around and what was once popular when my Mom was a girl is once again becoming the latest trend. Many of the prints and colors were familiar to me. Mostly I remember the shoes from Mom's closet but I guess when we were younger we also had some old hand me downs, mostly dresses. I got a pair of navy blue shorts with pink and blue flowers plastered onto it. I like them a lot but whenever I look at them I cant help but remember the hideous dresses Mom used to make me wear when I was little. They had flower print just like my shorts and one had big puffed sleeves and soft gathers at the hem so my dress looked like that one sleepy cartoon dog - Droopy is it? - Anyways, I don't know why but I had so many floral print dresses and I hated them all. I swore I would never ever wear dark colored with medium sized contrasting flowers on top clothes... especially dresses. Now here I am wearing a pair of shorts that if they were a dress I would immediately throw into the donate pile. Go figure.

The other day my brother was listening to country music and one of the lines in the song is "sweeter than muscadine wine" How many of y'all know what a muscadine is? Well you won't have to wonder long because I'll tell you. They're summer. They are komorebi (the soft light that turns leaves into glowing fireflies). They're the gentle breeze that sneaks under the thick vines and cools a little girls legs but not her sweaty brow. She is almost completely out of sight under the thick growth, her waist and legs rest in the moist dirt as the rest of her strains reaching up and up, to the very center of the friendly vines where she plucks the very last fruit. She collapses and rests on her elbows that are digging into the soft earth and plops the muscadine into her mouth. She sucks on it and then pulls it out and carefully begins peeling off the skin to reveal the green inside. It matches the glowing leaves. Finally she eats it. Muscadines are the perfect day.

Flarp

Three months ago it was Christmas. Now, from this first sentence you may think that this story is going to have something to do with Christmas, and you wouldn't be entirely wrong, but you're not right either. This story in fact, is only tenuously connected to all the holiday cheer, presents, Christmas parties... So maybe I should choose a different opening sentence, but I've already made it this far so I am going to stick with it.

                                                               "Lihya, that was a toot."

Three months ago we opened our larger than average stockings and were not surprised to find our traditional, crackers, cheese, and sausage in addition to about a quart of peanut butter cups at the the toe. I was however, surprised and delighted to find a small cylinder of gooey pink Flarp. I was sent into a fit of laughter and tears even began to squeeze out of my eyes. I couldn't contain myself. My face turned red from lack of air as I immediately opened up the little putty toy and began playing with it. I made such a spectacle of myself that my mother began laughing uncontrollably and the tears came squeezing out of her eyes too.

Why in the world would such a silly play thing, you may ask, invoke such an outrageous reaction? I don't rightly know but let me tell you a story about Flarp.

The Wizard of Oz

NOTE: This was written several months ago. I think even before we met the boys.

When I was very young we were at some friend’s house. A movie about the Wizard of Oz was put in and we youngsters did not sit still and watch it. Everyone was very wiggly including me. I was at the most four years old. I was annoyed with the other children because I couldn’t hear what Dorothy was saying or the Lion or the Tin Man. I sat close to the television and pressed my ear against the speaker. I couldn’t see but at least I could hear. Eventually the travelers made it to the Emerald City. There were scary adventures and some happy times too, I don’t remember much about it. I do know though, that was the day I fell in love with the Land of Oz.
                Some years later a remake of the Wizard of Oz movie came out and it was very popular. McDonald's began including dolls of the characters in the happy meals. Every Wednesday on the way to piano lessons we would stop at a McDonald's that was right next to a green BP gas station. We didn’t normally buy happy meals but since Mom knew I liked the Wizard of Oz so much she bought me the happy meals and I collected the dolls. I got the Tin Man, Dorothy, a flying monkey, and Glinda the Good. I was disappointed that they stopped giving out the dolls before I could collect them all.

Late Nights

Sometimes the words just won't come. Sometimes thoughts don't either. I lay in my bed and nothing makes sense. I lay there and so many ideas flit by. Like a butterfly, beautiful unique, so delicate; it alights upon a flower for just a moment and then moves. Sometimes it stays though, but you are so concerned with how long it will stay that you don't even take time to trurly appreciate it. My thoughts are butterflys and all I can do is watch them fly by, they are not my own and I just observe.

I am overwhelmed with confusion.

But I'm not lost.

It's a comfort to know where I stand - to know that these questions (Whatever they are) won't seperate me from God - to know that He welcomes questions; because He longs to answer them.

Still these faceless thoughts will torment me. If only I could get a hold of them, then maybe I could sort them out. The butterflies flutter away from me leaving me stuck in this tossing abiss of raw ideas and emotions. Formless, shapeless, endless....

Sometimes I really don't think me being an insomniac is that far fetched of an idea.

Times like this is when I turn to music and fill my head with someone elses words. Is this a good thing? I don't know. Maybe I should turn to my Bible and fill my head with God's words.

Christmas Tree Farm 2014

As a little girl the anticipation for our Christmas tree was almost immeasurable. In fact it was, because I don't think anyone has invented a way of measuring anticipation. The point is, getting our Christmas tree, putting up decorations around the house, and watching Daddy and Mama stringing lights outside was one of my favorite things about Christmas.

For the tree all four of us kids would follow Mom and Dad to the attic where we would crowd around the base of the rickety ladder (I was always afraid it would break) and watch the top half of Dad disappear into the dim space. On this one day the attic was no longer a forsaken creepy spawn for all the monsters we would make up and scare each other with. On this one day the attic was a place full of delightful surprises and forgotten toys - so of course we would always clamor for Dad to take us up with him. And sometimes he would!

Watching from below the wait was unbearable. I am sure it would have been much easier for Dad to send us away so he could bring down the tree without being pestered and without worrying that he would step on one of us on the way down or drop the long skinny box with all the branches in it on our heads. BUT, I am glad he didn't because I will always treasure these memories.

From Here to There Incredible Things are Everywhere...

Come with me back to 2010. I am standing outside with a pair of rubber boots I threw on - no socks of course. It is January and I grabbed my huge white coat that makes me look like a walking marshmallow. I didn't zip it up so instead I hug myself stuffing my hands in my pockets, keeping the cold at bay. I stand ankle deep in fresh clean snow. Up in the sky I watch my breath float away towards the gorgeous full moon. The light of the moon is so bright that no stars can be seen for at least one outstretched-hand-length away and when the light hits the snow it lights up the whole field almost as bright as day. I can see the Milky Way. The sky is black as tar. The sounds I hear are comforting. A pack of coyotes yip and scream as the hunt in the night. Owls talk. Chickens murmur and cluck softly. I walk into the driveway and admire the beautiful snowflakes on the hoods of our suburban, truck, water trailer. They are incredible. I turn back towards the house and head inside. By this time I can't feel my toes. Our blue Christmas lights have faded since we put them up last year. Icicles hang from the roof.

Now, step back into the present. It's December. I am sitting on the short flower bed wall, bare feet planted firmly on our concrete sidewalk.