In A Flash

Yesterday morning, I was reminded how delicate and finite life really is. I logged onto Facebook, as is my morning routine, to peruse the status updates of 911 of my closest friends. I saw countless updates about a sweet friend of our family. I was a bit confused as to what the statuses were referring to, but I could tell that something tragic had happened in their family. I quickly got off of Facebook to phone my mom thinking that she might know what had happened. She hung up with me and called her dear friend (the auntie of the family) to check in and see if everything was okay. She called me back within minutes to confirm my suspicions that something devastating had happened- the sweet little two year old had been found in the Jacuzzi at a party and passed away. 

This news rocked me. It was one of those defining moments for me where the phrases so oftentimes thrown around made all too much sense, "Life is short."  Too short. That sweet little girl was snatched from earth in a moment that left everyone here asking those deep and often times unanswerable questions. Why? What is God's plan in this situation?

I am honestly not really sure how to wrap my brain around situations like this. Situations like this are earth shattering and they tend to rock us to our very core. Yet in the midst of our pain and suffering, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is in control. It is a fine balance between asking those questions and placing trust in an all knowing and all powerful God. 

I awoke this morning with the the hymn Great is Thy Faithfulness in my heart- the phrase, "Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow" has played over and over again in my mind as I think of our sweet friends and the pain they are feeling today. I think that when we remember that God pulls us through the pain of today with the hope of tomorrow, we are able to gain some perspective and our questions, although not answered, are left with a hint of hope for what God is going to do in our lives. Strength for today...bright hope for tomorrow...No matter how dark today is. No matter how much pain you are in right now- there is HOPE. 

In the midst of the pain, I am choosing to take away from this devastatingly sad situation the reminder that life is fragile and that we have to seek to live everyday to the fullest. Tomorrow is not a promise. Go for a walk with someone you love, call up an old friend, make a mends with a family member that you are fighting with. Chances are, when your life is up, you won't be sitting there wishing you kept a cleaner house, or that you did the dishes more often. Beds can be left unmade, towels unfolded. Spend time with those you love and hit the pillow at night positive that you live everyday to the fullest. It is so much more satisfactory than checking off another "To Do List" item. Life is short, so make memories. Let things go quickly so that the hardships of life don't bog you down. Be ready to go at a moments notice...

I guess that living in the moment is really a part of embracing joy, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Dominican Republic 2010 

I Don't Make Guacamole

I do not make guacamole. I don't have some famous recipe passed down from generation to generation of Soltero homemakers. I love the delicious green paste as much as the next person, however, I have never made it...

Well, I guess one time I did. One time when my sweet father-in-law with the best of intentions tried to make me feel more "at home" by supplying the ingredients for me to whip up some delicious combination of avocado, cilantro, onion, and lime. It was disastrous, a horrible consistency of pale green mush that lacked flavor and and substance. It was runny and gross. Everyone pretended to like it, but I knew it wasn't good.  

I don't make guacamole. I don't do so, not because I am incapable, as I am sure I could Google some great recipe and run to the store for the ingredients. I could work at it unit it was perfected and proudly announce to all my guests that it I was serving my world famous "GUAC" (as my Midwestern guests would call it). But I don't. People love guacamole. Americans eat 53.3 million pounds of the stuff on Super Bowl Sunday! That is enough guacamole to coat a football field 20 feet deep. Gross. But I don't make it. 

Why? I have been asking myself that question for the last year. Maybe because people expect me to. The assumption that a Mexican homemaker who has mastered the art of beans, rice, and chile con carne should probably know how to make guacamole. But I refuse to do so, because I don't like the indication that I SHOULD do something. 

I have been battling the idea of others expectations for the past few weeks. The kick off to our summer has been overwhelmingly busy, having already shoved a wedding, two out of state graduations, a few barbeques, and house guests into the first few weeks. We are tired and our laundry could honestly revolt on us and take over our house in the next few days. We have loved every minute of it, but sometimes I wonder if we fail to say NO to something because of other's expectations of us. 

I was talking to a sweet friend on my drive home the other day. I had been thinking about her for a few days, but managed to hit the pillow every night failing to call her. I finally did so and we chatted for a bit. She confided in me with her feelings of inadequacy and wondering when life would change for her. I know that those feelings are by no means unique to her.  We all struggle with them, but the pain was very real and fresh as she reflected on her lack of relationship status in comparison to the Memorial holiday. I felt for her. I know the chagrin of being asked "if there was anyone special". Usually I would quote Miranda from Sex and the City and say that, "No, indeed there were just loads and loads of really average and not special guys".  My witty response usually deflected some of the kind, but unnecessary pitiful responses that well meaning friends would say, like "he is right around the corner" or "just when you stop looking..." as if I could ever STOP looking. But the pain was always there, just below the surface.

I wonder however, how much of our feelings of inadequacy and overall lack of luster for the place we are in life stems from letting other people define our lives. My friend is a strong independent woman. She works hard, establishing herself in a career she loves and is invested in. She changes lives on a daily basis always putting others interests above her own. She is an active member of her church and she is always there for her friends and family. Oh, and she is deliriously beautiful, on the inside and the outside. I am certainly not saying that her desire to share her life with someone special is wrong or even out of place. However, I wonder how much of what she is feeling (and me for that matter) has more to do with looking around and wanting what others have as opposed to being content with where God has her. I also wonder how much of what we do is impacted by what we view as the next step...

How often do we allow others to impact what we do and how we do it? I know that for myself, if I am truthful, it is a daily struggle. I have been asking myself a lot lately if I am pursuing something God wants for me or if my desires are shaped by others' expectations of me. I am working on letting God define me, and not others. I am constantly checking my motives. I want to be molded and shaped into a woman after God's own heart. 

So, for now, despite being given a mortar and pestle for Christmas this past year, I don't make guacamole. 

What is your guacamole?  

My God is HEALER.

Elated, ecstatic, euphoric, knock-your-socks-off-delighted, oh, and humbled. 

That is how we drove away from our three month appointment yesterday.

Let me start by saying that I have had an unexplainable peace from deep within me lately. I wake up feeling blessed, I go about my day feeling blessed, and I fall asleep thinking about how blessed I am. There is no outside source for all the warm and fuzzies. I am just feeling so thankful. 

I am thankful that for literally the first time in my relationship with Josh I am finally feeling myself. We have dealt with one painful procedure after another. We have sat in dozens of doctors offices from the time we started dating, hearing tragic news. We had one doctor try to schedule a hysterectomy for us, without batting an eye...he wanted to take away my dreams without even a thought. We made touch choices, ones that promised more pain and sorrow. Choices that were certainly not easy, but were right. We fought tooth and nail for the future of our family. 

We have endured painful conversations with friends who had the best of intentions. We have been told countless times to consider adoption. We have even been told that maybe the two of us are just not a great combination and this is, "natures way of telling us..." I have been attacked by people saying that, "Josh deserves a child." We've smiled and nodded on the outside, but on the inside we break. We lay in bed dreaming about what "normal couples" do. We tell people off in the safety and secrecy of our own home because it feels good to get it out. 

But lately? Lately we are feeling content. We are feeling blessed. We are feeling at peace. Nothing has changed...nothing, that is until yesterday at 11 AM in our specialist's office in Hoffman Estates. May 2, 2011 will always be in my heart as a day that everything changed. 

We have been praying tirelessly. We have asked our friends and family to join us in praying without ceasing. We know that we are surrounded by some amazing prayer warriors, and yesterday, the evidence of that was shining so brightly that EVERYONE could see it. 

At my appointment one month after surgery, you could still clearly see traces of left over tumors. They were big dark clouds on all my scans. We were disheartened, but our doctor encouraged us that we might still get pregnant even with the tumors inside of me. He was clear that the road ahead of us would be painful and that we would certainly need his help conceiving. We wrestled with how we would pay for something that drastic, but we tried to be patient. Be patient, and pray.

Yesterday, he ran the same tests on me that he had preformed two months ago. He was silent. He ran additional tests. Again, he was silent. He called Josh into the room. I was so anxious I wanted to vomit. He showed us all the scans side by side- 1 month scans next to 3 months scans. He said, "Your progress is far beyond what I expected. There are no traces of tumors. Go home. Get pregnant on your own. I don't want to see you until you have missed a period. This is nothing short of a miracle."

My eyes well up with tears every time I think of those words. Freedom. Freedom to be young. Freedom to be in love and to try to start a family on our own. Freedom from painful shots. Freedom from having doctors visits rule our lives. Freedom to dream of a future, a bright and cheerful future.

Prayer is a powerful tool.  Prayer opens doors. It is a game changer. 

I am ecstatic. I am filled to the brim with hope. I am full of Joy. 

MY God is HEALER. 

It was ME.

I traveled back that day, 2,000 years ago...

I saw my Savior hanging there, broken and beaten. 

His eyes were fierce and full of pain.

I looked upon the angry crowd screaming, "Crucify HIM!"

In a haze, my heart began to race. 

What had my Savior done?

I tried to climb to the top of the hill,

To scream and shout for the crowd to stop.

They must have mistaken the Precious Lamb, 

For a criminal He is not.

My feet kept slipping in the mud.

I felt anxiety grip my chest. 

I rose my arms in surrender,

Until my eyes caught a glimpse of her face.

I spun around in total shock,

Not prepared for what I would see.

For in the crowd upon that day,

Stood none other than me.

I recognized my face at once.

A look of hate with a furrowed brow,

As I began to shout,

"Kill that Man! Make Him Pay."

As if in a dream, I saw myself,

standing beside the Cross. 

I thought for a moment that I was there,

To comfort my Savior, Lord and King.

But then as if my sin took control,

I grabbed hold of a hammer and and lifted it high.

I brought it down, swift and hard, 

One time for each lie I've told.

Moments later, I heard a whip 

Coming down upon His back.

My heart went cold as I looked down,

I grasped that whip, hard and fast.

My knuckles white with rage,

I beat my Jesus with no remorse.

The hate I have for others took control,

His back began to bleed.

Again I caught myself staring at my face,

For I was the one with the crown of thorns in my hand,

Ready to shove it on His head. 

A crown for a King, 

I certainly did not bring.

The blood dripped down upon His face,

For each time I've failed to show love.

Broken and worn I wandered away,

The crowd was still hot with rage.

I sat down to collect my thoughts, 

And figure out what I had done.

The girl sitting next to me asked me my name.

I tried to avoid her stare. 

She asked me again and declared in full voice,

"Weren't you one of Jesus' friends?"

Fear, which so often grips my heart, spoke loud and clear,

"I don't know that Man, I have never met Him."

Three times I screamed,

While fleeing from the scene,

I heard a rooster crow.

And then in the garden I walked with contempt,

Towards my Savior standing there. 

I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek,

To be sure I betrayed Him still.

Isaiah 53:3-6

"He was despised and rejected by mankind, 

a man of suffering, and familiar with pain. 

Like one from whom people hide their faces 

he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.

Surely he took up our pain 

and bore our suffering, 

yet we considered him punished by God, 

stricken by him, and afflicted. 

But he was pierced for our transgressions, 

he was crushed for our iniquities; 

the punishment that brought us peace was on him, 

and by his wounds we are healed. 

We all, like sheep, have gone astray, 

each of us has turned to our own way; 

and the LORD has laid on him 

the iniquity of us all.

Break My Heart For What Breaks Yours.

Broken, tired, hungry, dazed, and emotional. 

That is how I would describe my feelings as I ended my hunger fast on Thursday. We pulled up to Red Robin that evening to celebrate our victory over hunger for 5 days. Three bites into my Blue Ribbon Burger, I was stuffed.

This morning in church we were reminded of the suffering around us. Experts estimate that it would take about 30 billion dollars to solve world hunger...Americans spend more on Pizza every year. Now, I really developed a love affair with pizza since moving to Chicago, but if someone told me that if I went without pizza for one year I could solve the world hunger crisis, I would do so willingly. Sign me up!

We as Americans represent five percent of the population, however, we take up thirty percent of the resources. That fact alone sends chills up and down my body as I think of the waste in our own home. Josh and I try very hard to be wise stewards of what God has given, yet our attitude about wasted food is the type of perspective that fails to acknowledge starving children in the world.

I am also humbled when I consider my faithful "truck". I have driven the same car since college. My Nana and Tata helped me purchase my sweet little old lady go-getter my senior year in college- thank God for good grandparents! I am often times embarrassed when I pull up in my little beater and park next to a BMW or Lexus. This weekend my car had to go into the shop for some repairs so it can pass emissions (we get nervous when we are being tested...she hasn't passed yet, but it is looking better!). I must confess, every time she goes into the shop, I secretly hope that it will cost more than she is worth and I can move on to something with working windows. Then, I am reminded of the fact that owning a car is a privilege and that the elite 8% of the population that is so fortunate to own a car should just be grateful. To ninety-eight percent of the world, I am blessed beyond belief. I need to live in that mindset a little more often.

There are one hundred million homeless people in the world. One billion people do not have clean drinking water. Eight hundred sixty-two million people are affected by severe hunger. Sixteen thousand children DIE of hunger every single day. Those numbers should resonate deep within your soul. They should move you. They should change you.

As we move into Holy Week, I am reminded that Jesus came to earth to be a part of our suffering. Philippians 2 reminds us to have the same mindset as Christ Jesus. He chose to give of himself, forsaking his privilege, humbling himself as a man, and allowing himself to be killed in a humiliating and painful way.  What privileges are we willing to give up to help those in need?

We get caught up and often times swept away with the greed that surrounds us. We always want the new, the best, and the shiniest. We see what others have and we start to scheme...however, just because we are Americans does not give us the right to turn a blind eye to the suffering around us. Even in America, children go to bed hungry. Parents worry about a bare pantry. What are we going to do about it?

1 John 3:17-18
"If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with ACTION and in TRUTH.

Hunger

Today is day 3 of our Hunger Fast. I am hungry, weak, and ready for bed. 

Even though I did this fast last year, I am still blown away at how difficult it is to function off of so little food. I am in a haze as I try to move about my day. My head is aching, my body is feeling weak and deprived and I am just irritable in general. Last night started the hunger pangs in the middle of the night. Both Josh and I woke up with intense hunger but couldn't do anything about it. Yet, despite knowing that this exists for 1/2 of the world, we go about our days consuming more than enough and wasting the rest...Not okay.

I think the single most shocking factor of all of this for me is that in a few days I get to return to my normal diet. I can crack open a diet coke, eat some hummus and grab some jelly beans. I have no fear or worry that I will not get another meal. I know we will return to cooking scrumptious dinners and even following that up with some dessert. Yet, for 1/2 of the world, that is not their reality. Mothers, fathers, and children worry about what they will eat. They work hard just to literally put food on the table. They go about their day in hopes that something will be provided to soothe the aches in their bellies. This fast, no matter how difficult it is in the moment is nothing in comparison to the suffering and devastation of men, women, and children all around the world. The weakness I am feeling and the grumbling in my tummy cannot compare to the damage caused by starvation across the world. We have to do something about it.

As I described before, my head feels cloudy. Easy tasks seem daunting throughout the day. I am a 26 year old, done growing and developing. To think that children live off this minimal of a diet breaks my heart. No wonder children are under developed in third world countries. 

I have had more than one person say, "Don't you think people get used to not eating?" To that I generally reply, "As soon as they get used to not eating, they die." If you are one of those people who thinks that way, from the bottom of my heart, I beg you to take the challenge. Let God work in you to soften your heart to the hunger crisis in the world. Go without and then answer the question, "Did you get used to it?" The answer is a resounding no. 

My heart is being softened to the needs in our world. I know first hand that families in our neighborhoods are struggling to provide meals for their families. How sad that in a country this progressive and well established we still have children going to bed hungry. I challenge you to look inside your heart and take action. 

My heart is also rejoicing in the fact that God has certainly been good to me...I am ever thankful for his provision and blessings in my life. I am grateful that after 5 days of hunger, I know without any doubts that I will be blessed again.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind...

Would you say that you are someone who doesn't think about something unless it is right in front of you?

I know I certainly am. The "out of sight, out of mind" mentality is something I struggle with. I think that it is a part of our culture to really only focus on current events or what is happening in that instant. Think about how much publicity Haiti got when the earthquakes rendered them helpless. We all donated and raised supplies for people to go over there and help them get their lives back in order. Yet, how many of us today have sort of put that on the back burner and maybe not really paid attention to the fact that one of the poorest countries in the world is now even more destitute and poverty stricken than before?

The next tragedy has hit...we are all about posting prayers and sending aid to Japan, but I have to ask myself, how long until Japans devastation is no longer a thought in our minds?

Out of sight. Out of mind.

I try to be attentive- to remember a friends birthday or anniversary. But, I have to say, more often than not, I am frantic to drop a card in the mail (usually on that persons special day) because the other aspects in my life seem more pressing.

A dear friend of mine lost her mother to ALS 2 years ago this April. I will never forget the words she said to me over a burger at Fridays the week after her mother passed away. She said, "Mary Beth, my biggest fear is that over time my friends will move on and the pain will no longer be in the forefront of their minds...and the pain...even 5 years from now will still be fresh to me." Those words struck a cord in me. I want to be that friend who remembers. I want to be the person that every April 2 takes a minute to say a prayer for my friend, send her a text, email, or card. I want her to know that she is loved, but more importantly, I want her to know that she is remembered.

Every spring our church takes some time to acknowledge the poor. Celebration of Hope consists of several different aspects where we are able to take part in remembering those who are hurting. This coming week we are starting the most challenging aspect of  COH...

On Monday we are committing to 5 days of eating how one-half of the world eat everyday. Did you know that one-half of the world lives off of two dollars of food (about 3 cups of food) everyday? One cup of oatmeal for breakfast. One cup of rice and beans for lunch. One cup of rice and beans for dinner. Oh, and tap water....no coffee...no diet coke.

Josh and I took this challenge on last year. We were hungry, we were crabby, and we were weak. Yet, in the midst of our hunger pangs God worked in us to soften our hearts to the poor. We entered into the struggles of faceless brothers and sisters all over the world and our hearts were broken for them. The hunger pangs that we went to bed with every night were heart breaking and sickening. To top it all off, we both held desk jobs. Add on top of those hunger pains needing to walk 2 miles to get your well water. See, even in spite of giving up the comforts of fresh produce and COFFEE I knew without a doubt that when my five days were over I would return to a full fridge. I did not have to worry about where my next meal would come from or IF our next meal would come.

But, the suffering of the poor was much closer to my heart in those five days. I challenge you. Don't let the starving go to sleep and never wake up. Enter into their pain and do something about it.

My challenge to my readers is to take part in this 5 day challenge. Join me in eating 3 cups of food a day and drinking only tap water. Then, take your weekly grocery budget and donate it to a soup kitchen, a food bank, or a non-profit organization dedicated to feeding the hungry. Your sacrifice will change lives.

Interested in reading more? Visit Celebration of Hope.

"I was hungry. You gave me food. I was thirsty. You gave me drink. I was a stranger. You took me in. I needed clothes. You gave me clothes. I was sick. You came to visit me. I was in prison. You came to see me."
Matthew 25:35-36