Various Thoughts and Poetry

       I carry a little red book in my purse at various times, thoughts, prayers, or poetry come to mind, and I will jot them down as quickly as they come to mind. I was writing in that book this morning as a poem came to mind; after I had written it down, I was reminded of the time I started to write...I was eleven years old and we had moved away from my home...I felt lonely most of the time, and I had turned to my journals and writing everything down. Those journals have somehow been lost through the years, but I do have some of my college journals around along with the ones I have written since I've been married. Here is the poem I wrote just this morning:

Though You're Gone

Even though you're gone

I can hear your voice

Even though you're gone

I can see your smile

Even though you're gone

I know you're with me

Day after day, mile after mile.

I hear your robust laughter

I turn my head and stop

My heart sinks lower than low

Knowing you're everywhere I go.

Even though you're gone

I still feel your hand in mine

 Even though you're gone

I still see your smiling face

Even though you're gone

I still feel your presence

Your memory my heart can't erase.

I miss you more than life itself

When alone in the silence

My heart, itself, cries out

Just to once more see your face.

They say that time heals all

 But I seem to know otherwise

Time reminds me of growing older

Without the sight of your kind eyes.

It's not good-bye but see you again

Yet life will always remind me

Of our time down here

My blood, my family.

SCHOOL

       Yes, you read correctly...my own children now attend school! It's been 11 years since I graduated from high school, and now my oldest is in kindergarten. I watch her in wonder as every single day she seems to be blossoming into a beautiful young lady. I look at her and wonder where time is going so fast. I can remember my very first day of school...how I was nervous and didn't know a single soul in my whole class. Charity had kind of an advantage as she knew most of her classmates. It's funny to listen to her tell me about this one particular girl who is "mad at her" one day and the next day, "Mommy, she's my friend...she's not mad at me anymore." Oh the drama of a young girl's life. Then I have my wiggle worm of a son who I've sent to pre-school this year but will be ready for kindergarten next year! He's already fallen out of his seat due to not being able to stay still. Not to mention the mishap with Charity and a certain pair of scissors...let's just say, I'm not too happy about the extra layers in her hair at the moment, but thankfully she has curly hair like me and I can figure it out every day!
      I've felt the affects of my children and their first week of school...the quietness of my house as I clean, the sadness three days out of my week when I know that I won't be home for them when they get out of school...thankfully I am able to take them to school every day and Josh is able to be there for them when I am not. Taking them to school makes me want to teach school again, but that's a whole different realm right now...it still seems surreal that I am a mom of kids that are old enough to go to school....this year has brought many many changes in my life, more than I've had in a long while....and change has always scared the daylights out of me....

Seriously, Why?

       If you are reading this and feel offended, I cannot apologize for how I feel. Why? Because I'm human and have feelings...yesterday, I had a serious break-down at my place of work, and it made no sense to me except I was already struggling and my mind went on vacation. All reasoning with my senses to stop myself were gone, and I felt out of control. All I can remember is feeling totally out of control as our walkies did NOT work, and I needed to help my co-workers but totally needed assistance of other co-workers...the rest is a blur as I ran for help...the rest was a total mental melt-down I swore I would NEVER allow to happen...I was shaking, my mind was frozen as I cried uncontrollably with no reasoning that I needed to take a deep breath and just BREATHE. I was on my way up to the admin building to throw my keys at our campus director's door, then the next thing I could reason that I needed to get in my car and just drive home and hold my own kids close to me...I was DONE...I wasn't coming back because, like I said, all reasoning was out the window. I am blessed to have friends at work...friends who could stop me...I was able to sit down on the kitchen floor as my friend talked all reasoning back into my frozen mind...I was so upset with myself for losing it. Seriously? Could I ever make it in combat? Did I actually ever think I could join the Army? That's what I wanted to do before I received the phone call for this job....then I get this job and freeze over a CHILD? I guess, I am human after all....when all was said and done, I had a hard time re-focusing the rest of the day, but I made it....I was so exhausted I could barely talk to my husband when I went home that night...I was supposed to do a sleep-over but my sweet friend wouldn't let me...she took my place...God only knows that He has given me some great friends in this line of work...I question over and over what I have gotten myself into then I remember the kids who make it all worth while, some which have already left and completed the program. I remember some of my girls currently in my cottage who I know that I am making a difference in their lives...I go to work for them. I can't worry about the one who screamed obscenities every time I passed her last night....I can't worry about her screaming that no one wants me there anymore....I can't allow those words hurt me because it all boils down to the other 9 girls who need me to stay there for them...to show them that I will be one person who won't walk out of their life....yes, this is WHY...

What Now...

       The question is, "What now?" As I continue on my life's journey, I constantly am searching what my destiny will be. Over the past couple of weeks, I've come to the conclusion that I will probably go back to school eventually and possibly will be a counsellor. I find that over the past couple of weeks, I have spent a good deal of time just counselling people, mainly the teens I work with. Being a direct child-care worker has opened my eyes to a whole new world. I never dreamed that I'd be counselling on a non-stop, day to day basis. I'm not even sure that I want to be a therapist and deal with things I don't thoroughly believe in...I have a different view to life than most of the psychotherapy jargon out there. You see, I happen to know that there is a real live devil out there and that we "wrestle not against flesh and blood...." But even being a counsellor can pose certain hurdles along my path, yet I have never been one to just give up on something I believe in...
       Just yesterday alone, I sat and talked to a few of my girls...if I wasn't putting out an "explosive situation" I was just talking to them about what's important in their lives at this point and time. By night's end, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted, but I believe that this is what I really want to do....just sit and talk and guide kids who are troubled, who are searching for what's missing in their lives that they need and are trying to overcome. Of course, I know that Jesus is the ultimate answer, yet dealing with these kids at my place of work tends to give me this hurdle that I feel the need to jump....just naming the name of Jesus is offensive to a few of the girls. I only hope and pray that they can see Jesus in me and will soon begin to ask me about why I can live my life with such peace and don't become frazzled when they scream in my face like a new girl did last night....So, I just rambled on about what now? I just don't know the answer at this moment and time....

Hello....

       Hello, my name is Elizabeth Hamm, and I wonder what in the word I have gotten myself into...really...I like to think of myself as a strong person, as a person who can accomplish whatever I put my mind to...I also know that sometimes, mostly all of the time, I like to make sure that everyone around me is okay and all is right in their world as in mine. I don't know why I am this way...it's been for as long as I can remember, really. I've always wanted those in authority to like me as well as everyone around me. I've come to the conclusion probably over 2000x that I just can't please everyone. I just can't make everybody happy, AND I can't just take those around me who are in pain and make them better. I can't solve world peace, and I can't make everyone believe in God. I can't make everyone obey the law and I can't make someone like me. All I can do is be myself, and with the help of God, I can shine His light wherever I walk. I don't always make the right decisions, and often, it may seem as if I am too caring....but at what point is someone TOO caring? I know that as of this point in my life, all I can do is, "Let go and let God..." I can't do anything else. I can't expect to make everyone around me happy 100% of the time. I can't make my own children obey me or even get along. All I can do is guide them and teach them how important it is to obey those in authority and how important it is to treat each other with respect.
       I can take a handful of my "faith rocks" and name each and every one of them with different things I am dealing with in my life including "self-respect." I am learning to respect myself so in turn I can respect others. So many times, I try to help so many people around me that I forget that I, too, am an important person in my life. I deserve happiness and love just like everyone around me. This is not pride; this is just self-awareness...God loves me...He loved ME so much that He made a way for me to have a "peace that passes all understanding..." He sent His only Son, Jesus, to die for ME. If I was the only person alive on this Earth, He still would've sent Jesus to die for ME. I have to be totally honest with you...I could not live this life without my God. I have, and I have failed miserably. I have gone for days without talking to Him or even acknowledging He was there...then when chaos or tragedy entered, I was on my knees crying for His help. I have come too far now to go back...I know that I really couldn't live without my God.
       Remember Jesus' cry from the cross, "My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?" Imagine the great desperation He was feeling! I don't ever have to experience that because He will always be near. Whenever I feel as if He is gone, all I have to do is turn around and just simply open my eyes. He hasn't gone anywhere; He was just waiting for me to acknowledge His presence.
       So, I can't just end this without simply saying that although I have maybe sounded desperate, I am not. I have faith that God will bring me through this phase in my life the same as He always has. I don't need anything but Him for He is my EVERYTHING...

Inner Pain

       A dagger to the heart
   Left me bleeding and alone
   Too many questions
   Had turned my heart to stone...

   A dark fog surrounded me
   My way was so unclear
   Why had the sun blackened
   And those around me sneer?

   At night I'd lay to rest
   So sure this would go away
   Only to waken to dark
   Knowing much didn't sway...

   I heard their voices, distanced
   They clung to every word
   But I didn't know what I said
   It sounded so absurd...

   How can I save you
   While I am drowning still?
   How can I have an answer
   To shape your life and will?

   Where do I go from here
   While my baby looks to me
   To be the stronger being
   To set us both free?

   When will I surface
   From this sea of pain?
   It tends to grab and choke me
   With nothing left to gain...

   I look to Heaven for some answers
   My words all choked in tears
   I really need some answers
   To calm these inner fears...

   Surrounded by my loved ones
   I still feel all alone
   I'm in another world
   What you see is just a clone...

   So, God, what is the answer
   I really need to know
   If You're who You say
   Do you really love me still?

   I lift my trembling hand
   And place it into His
   I know no other way
   My life's an endless quiz...

   Dear God, I place my faith
   In You, far greater still
   You'll heal my broken heart
   In time, my life will heal...

   Just guide me and protect me
   Without You, I can't go
   I realize I'm still a mess
   And will cling to you so...

   Now I know You're with me
   And every troubled sigh
   I may never get the answers
   Until the day I die.

   Just guide me and direct me
   I cannot find my way
   Without You, I am helpless
   And have no words to say.

   Take care of those I love
   Since I can't seem to help
   And show them that I'm human
   With a broken heart.

                      ~~E.A.Hamm
                        7/20/10

*Written for my dear friend, Megan, who lost her brother on 7/08/10

Home

       I realize how precious time is after working non-stop for about 7 days...it's hard saying good-bye to my kids every single day especially after they were gone for a month visiting with their grandparents down in VA. I treasure every minute with my precious little ones, and they bring me so much joy. Just this morning, I took them to get their teeth cleaned, and it was JW's first time at the dentist. He was a bit skeptical at first. He has this look as he looks at something he is unsure of...those big brown eyes with long lashes blink and he studies the person up and down. He especially wasn't too sure of the chair especially when the dentist was reclining him back...he kept his head up and wouldn't relax. She is a super dentist especially with kids. She showed him all of the instruments, and he held out his hand and asked her to spray him with the sprayer. It was too funny! My little man is growing up so fast! I didn't even have to go back with Charity this time! She was all brave! The dentist told me that she talked non-stop! I, on the other hand, don't care for the dentist at all; I like her as a person and she is great but I just don't like the sound of drills or the feel of the toothbrush as she cleans my teeth. I just don't like the dentist at all! I most definitely don't tell my kids that though.
        I'm so happy to be home today! I love just spending every single minute with my kids. My job makes me more aware of just how important family is to me. Home, is definately where the HEART is....

Making a Change

       I was sitting in my living room across from my dad, as the tears came to my eyes, "I just really want to make a difference." You see, I look at my dad and see a man who has made a difference in so many lives. He just has so much wisdom and knows what to say; while, sometimes I feel so tongue-tied and wonder if the words that come out of my mouth make any sense whatsoever. I am much better at sitting down and collecting my thoughts on paper; it's still a process learning to sit and talk to someone and give them solid advice.
      So, I sat on the porch with a friend the other night wondering exactly what words to say. My mind could only be going 100mph, and somehow, no words I said made any sense to me whatsoever until I remembered the small rock I carried with me wherever I go. I remembered that my dad had given it to me as he has many different people. It symbolizes faith, something you can't see or touch. I often grabbed that rock and rolled it over and over in the palm of my hand, feeling deep in my heart that God was there with me and all I had to do was to have faith in Him. I've pulled that rock out of my pocket many times at work, clutching to the faith that He was with me wherever I was or whatever was going on around me. So, I gave that rock to my friend and kinda told her about it. I can always get another rock; it's not a big deal.
      I go to my cottage of girls yesterday and all at once, each one of them want to talk to me....I sat there listening, and my mind flashed back to when I was a teenager, having my own set of problems. I remember sitting there, talking to my mentors at the time, taking in everything they were telling me, wondering how they knew what to say. Cause, then, my mind was in a "pause" mode. What do you say to a girl who has been told all of her life that she wasn't wanted? That her life was a mistake? That she meant nothing to her mom? What do you say as she sits there crying her eyes out, telling me that she's been in 7 foster homes and no one really wanted her? That her temper has gotten the best of her over and over and people were afraid of her in past placements? The first thing I realized was that she was hurting far deeper than I could ever help. All I knew was that I hurt that she was hurting. I told her that. I also told her that I could see that she had a big heart for others and that she should never lose that. Then I made a mental note to go and get a bunch of "faith" rocks to hand out to these girls who are struggling. Sometimes, something tangible just makes a difference. I won't push religion on them, but I can tell them why I have faith.
       It's not at all about religion. It's about the Man who created the Universe. The common denominator between all of us, humans. It's about how we all can come together and always have that common denominator even if the rest is different. So, I can't really make a difference. All I can do is show the LOVE that is poured into me from my God. To walk in the love is the true mark of a Christian. That LOVE will make that CHANGE.

Indescribable Pain

             I'm supposed to be asleep, but I have so much on my mind like I have off and on for the last couple of weeks. I don't even know where to start with this blog...all I can think about is the indescribable pain all around me. Until I am in some one's shoes, I have no idea how they feel; all I know is what I have seen.
    Memories come back to my mind of what I know, what I've experienced. My first idea of true pain was when my little second cousin's life was taken over 11 years ago. That, to me, was indescribable pain.
    I had never cried so hard as I did those few days. My next memory was when the chancellor of my college died when we all expected him to make it. He had been like a grandfather to us at the college, giving so much of his time, showering us with gifts and acting silly...I think back to the frozen stillness as I was working the switchboard and could barely answer the phone calls coming through and my boss sent me back to my dorm, knowing I couldn't talk...the hallways were full of crying students...my room-mates all lay on our beds in silence with nothing to say, the shock was great. That, to me, at the time was indescribable pain.
      My next memory was when my baby boy was four months old...right after midnight, after Mother's Day, the phone call came through that Mamaw Hamm went Home. Walking into her room where her sick body had lain, was more than I could bare at the time...I sat on her back porch overlooking a beautiful view and imagined her there as the tears ran down my face...the chilling rain was soaking all of us as her grandsons carried her coffin on that mountain-top...that, to me, was indescribable pain.
      It was a Sunday morning, and we got the phone call as we were getting ready for church, just this past September. Papaw Hamm was going to be attending church in Heaven that morning. It was so hard walking through the house where he spent his last days. I felt as if his presence was still there, especially as I sat in his garden. To me, walking up to the casket with the family, knowing his life here on Earth was over, was indescribable pain. I think I hurt worse when I saw my husband, Josh, crying. Standing by the graveside as the grandsons carried his body to rest on that mountain-top was so final...to me, that was indescribable pain.
       The common denominator between all of these stories is that I will see every single one of these people again someday. The human body is frail...we can't imagine NOT seeing those we love again on this Earth. We can't contemplate the breath of life being just....GONE FOREVER. It's something we, ourselves, haven't survived to tell others about it. The thing we do know is that once our body dies, our spirit, who we really are, will live forever. Our spirit can't die. If you can imagine talking to someone on the telephone or even texting, it's our body's doing the talking, but in reality we don't see each other...we are speaking spirits. Even in the indescribable pain down here on Earth, we can know deep within our spirits that we have the privilege of seeing our loved ones again, in Heaven. They have simply graduated from this life onto the next. That is what makes the pain a little lesser, if you may, than if there was NO hope whatsoever. It doesn't stop the throbbing pain deep within your chest or the tears that burn your eyes because you've cried so much.
      So, I know of several different people who are hurting deeply tonight; one has lost her husband of almost 3 years just last night. One friend lost her brother from a tragedy that was unexpected. Two hurt all day, remembering that exactly a year ago today, they lost their mom to cancer. Another, hurt badly on Saturday, remembering that that would've been her brother's 30th birthday. I'm sure there are other's around the world, experiencing what I would call indescribable pain. But there is a "PEACE THAT PASSES ALL UNDERSTANDING." This peace can be found in Jesus Christ our Lord. He alone can grant this peace and heal the broken heart. Without Him, I couldn't survive any indescribable pain.
      
      

No Love

       Sometimes I feel like I'm in the wrong profession even though I've dreamed of this for a long while. After being on vacation for a week, I returned yesterday and was overwhelmed by the response of my girls. I took the time to listen to them and talk to them for a while. Then I was snapped back to reality around 6:30 last night when tensions were high during evening group. You could cut the tension in the air, it was so thick. I remembered that these kids don't have their coping skills fully developed; so, it was like I was talking to the wall. There comes a point where what I am saying is like I am speaking a foreign language to these girls; I guess I could start speaking Spanish at some point and they might stop dead in their tracks....:) Oh, I love my job...don't get me wrong. I suppose what I am saying is that sometimes life has a way of bringing you back to reality.
       While I was spending time with my family last week, their lives went on, behind the walls of placement...they weren't enjoying family, making memories to last a lifetime. I look back at last week and truly realize how blessed I have been. How I am blessed to have a dad and mom who love me...how I have a wonderful brother and sister with many memories of our growing up years...I was closer to my sister, but I have distinct memories of her and my baby brother's birth. I was 4 when she was born and 8 when he was born. I don't ever remember neglect, hate or abuse....I married into a family similar to mine only they are true Southern-folk, which I always wanted to be apart of. (Southern hospitality is amazing....nothing like the Yankees :) I've experienced true love all of my 30 years...oh, I've had my own set of heart-aches...I was blessed to know love; so, I am able to give alot of love to others around me.
       These children that I work with daily, don't really know true love. I've heard alot of their stories which often bring tears to my eyes when they aren't looking.  I can't imagine not knowing love....I can't imagine losing close family and even friends to death at an early age. The closest thing to death I've experienced was my cousin's murder when I was 18...then, Josh's grandma in 2007 and his grandpa last September...
       Then, I see all of this pain around me these last couple of weeks....pain of a different kind with several friends of the family, pain of a close loved one struggling inwardly, pain of a friend's losing a brother, pain of a friend remembering that yesterday would've been her brother's 30th birthday, then today, the pain of a young girl losing her husband so early to cancer. I see so much pain all around me, and I could allow it to make me depressed with life in general; instead, I have decided to embrace life with a passion. I have decided to take all of the love given to me these past 30 years and give it to others. I will still continue going to work, and loving what I do and showing these kids that I really do care. Even when I am running to an assistance call or am on the ground in a restraint....even when I am ready for yet ANOTHER vacation, I will still give my love to those around me....why? That's what Jesus would do.

Too Much

        You would think that after a long day at work I'd be exhausted like I usually am, but tonight so many thoughts are swirling around inside my head. I have too much on my mind to settle down; so, quite possibly, after writing this, I will feel relieved, as if maybe some burden has lifted from my shoulders.
       You would think that I would be able to relate to a teenager, having been one myself not too awful long ago, but the truth of the matter is, the teenagers I work with are nothing like I ever experienced. I would like to think that I was a typical teen, arguing with my parents, talking back, sneaking around behind their backs, dating boys they most definitely did not approve of, and so on...the only thing is, I never did anything to land me in JDC or placement...I had parents who raised me the best they knew, and at the time, I felt as if I was suffocating but I look back and realize that they saved me from a world of pain. I used to think that I couldn't live like a normal person, but what is normal exactly? Doing whatever I wanted? That would've landed me in jail for sure. So, I sometimes question myself working with these kids that I can't relate to...I didn't come from a broken home...I could come home from school and my dad and mom would be there to eat dinner with us in the evening. My mom taught me how to drive...my dad would drive me to work. I was in a private school where my mom taught...yes, it's true I dated a "bad boy." My mom and dad would go round and round with me and I'd look at them like they had two heads....would I listen to them? NO! I had to have my heart broken into pieces before I realized what a loser he was. So, what in the world do I have to offer these kids? These kids that cuss me out on a regular basis...calming down a girl who wants to beat down another over DRAMA....Well, I did grow up with drama to an extent...my teenage world had drama...girls have drama wherever they go anyway...placement just magnifies it. I've been called every name in the book and then some new ones...I had a girl threaten to "lay me out." I've had a pole swung near the vicinity of my head...I've chased a kid who thought it was hilarious to run wherever he wanted on the campus, then look at me and say, "Have a nice run, did ya!" I've been in two restraints already, and mind you, it's only been just about 4 months since I've been employed at my current job.
       There are days when I throw my hands in the air and say, "It's too much!!!!!!!!!!" I've screamed many statements in my mind like, "I'm only ONE person, for crying out loud!" I've just about become unglued the first time a resident screamed at me, "You just don't care about me!" Since then, I've heard that statement one too many times and it doesn't phase me anymore. I've driven my short distance home and sat in my car and cried into the steering wheel before going inside to my babies and hubby....The first place I go when I get home is to my sleeping babies' beds and caress their foreheads and tell them I love them...So, why do I decide to stay here working with these troubled teenagers? That's a good question...the truth of the matter is, I couldn't do this job without God's help. If I didn't have Him, I would've quit by now. He alone gives me the strength to do this....I'm not burnt out. I have a desire to make a difference in this world. I've felt that way since I was 14 years old.
       I remember saying to myself  and in my journals that I wanted to work with teenagers when I was an adult, and now I am able to make that dream an existence. What do I have to offer? I don't know, but all I do know is that I can offer them my heart, my listening ear as they pour out their troubles to me....they may seem trivial but in reality, it's very real to them. I could roll my eyes and be like, "This is so immature," but that would accomplish nothing. Do I become their best friend? No. But I can be that adult in their life that is constant and brings stability through consistency.
       So, no matter how I may want to bang my head off the wall or scream at the top of my lungs, in all reality, it's not too much. I am able to sit here and write this tonight as I am not upset, nor have I had a bad weekend. So, is it worth it? Yes....I'd say so when one of my girls who usually flips out if you look at her wrong is out on the gym floor trying to de-escalate drama...when another girl is crying because she knows that in her past, her first response would be to beat a girl down and she wants so badly to change and realizes that three years of placement is enough...that she's finishing this program no matter what.....yes, it's still worth it.

Let's Pretend

       As a child, I loved to pretend...I would often pretend to be a fire-fighter, a workman, a soldier, a mother, etc. One day, my sis and I climbed to the top of our swing-set, pretending to be hard-working-construction workers. We used our crochette mallets as hammers...that late afternoon, we thought we'd mix it up a bit. I pretended to have fallen from the swing and began screaming, "HELP! HELP! I THINK I'M DYING! HELP!" Then, my sweet little sister followed my lead and began screaming, "HELP!" as well...we had an older neighbor lady who was very tired of our antics. She used to watch us out of her curtain as we acted up and were mischievous! That day, she marched out onto her porch and called us over to her house. Sheepishly, we walked over there. (mind you, I was about 9 and my sis was 5) She proceeded to scold us, telling us about the boy who cried wolf and how he was eaten because nobody believed him due to him lying one too many times. She even told us that if we continued, she would tell our dad! (insert laugh here! that last threat usually worked with us cause we knew if dad found out, we wouldn't be laughing anymore)
       So, pretending as a child was our way of going into another world. Why is it that adults don't pretend anymore? Is it because we are "too mature" to relax and just have fun? I love listening to my children play pretend. They often love playing "Max and Ruby" a fun rabbit cartoon. They don't know that I listen to them and their cute little voices...I love it. It brings me back to my childhood and the hours I would play with my sister. She was my best friend and still is even though we live four hours apart.
       I often sit and pretend that all is right in the world, even though I know that it's not...I could get all worked up over the economy. I could get worked up over the war in the Middle East, upset with the oil spill in the Gulf, become irrate over our country's direction, but instead, I choose to pretend that all is right in my little world. I have two healthy children, a man that loves me to the moon and back, friends who mean the world to me, a family that loves me for me and not what they think I should be, a job that is rewarding, and I could go on and on...so, go ahead and "pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars" and wish for whatever you want. I ultimately believe that our words become a reality in our existance. So, choose your words wisely.
       I don't have to pretend that I will see family who have gone on before me. I know where I will spend eternity. I know Who made that belief an existance so we don't have to pretend there is a Heaven. There really is a Heaven and the exact opposite, a Hell, no matter how hard that is to believe. I believe this with all of my heart, and it's not a fairytale but a reality. So, I don't have to pretend there is a God...there always was and is and is to come...
      

While Sitting on a Rock...

       So, I'm sitting here typing with one hand, something that isn't easy at all. Yet, I have so much on my mind it's not even funny. Last night was something you'd see on TV, a movie in slow motion...it all is kind of blurred in my mind as radios were blaring for assistance, glass was being broken, tempers flaring, poles being swung, rooms being stripped, a run that injured my wrist and shoulder and so on. I removed myself from the situation for approximately twenty minutes, and as I sat there on a rock, my mind began to race thinking about our soldiers overseas, and how they are in crisis mode most of the time. They are dodging bullets, shrapnel, bombs, terrorists, etc, and for a brief moment I felt like a coward leaving the scene when I did...my little brother probably had nowhere to run as bullets flew his direction and I was outside sitting on a rock...those thoughts tortured me for a brief moment before a co-worker came and talked to me reminding me of our training and how it's good to remove yourself if you feel unstable....and boy did I...I held my ground until the pole-swinging began...then I was seriously done for the time being...I recovered in time to have to run what seemed like a quarter mile to assist a different situation. My run sent me crashing into the doorway, injuring my wrist and shoulder; only I felt nothing as I focused on calming a resident down who was crying and upset. I felt nothing still as I watched my own resident later on and we talked about the bats flying too close to our heads...my heart is broken for how it all went down...she told me she really liked me before she left and she wished me the best....
       Today is three years since Mamaw Hamm went to Heaven...my heart is with my family.....she is truly missed by all. I loved her sweet, Southern grace...always a smile, always a hug and hospitality. RIP Rosita Bercier Hamm...you aren't forgotten.

PAIN

       How do you describe pain? All of the adjectives in the world can't describe the pain some people feel inside. The loss of a parent, raising a sibling when you are only still a child yourself...being neglected, physically and emotionally. The type of abuse not even you can describe appropriately...I see it in the eyes of a child and my heart breaks into a thousand pieces...memories flood my heart and I remember walking down the streets of Chicago, what seems like another lifetime yet only 10 years ago when I was only 18, 19 and 20...I remember walking into their homes, seeing the chaos, seeing the brokenness, feeling the heartache when I just wanted to scoop up a small child out of their situation...I wanted to take them home with me and tell them that this doesn't have to be their life forever. I remember one home that I visited had several foster boys; I forget how many boys lived there...anyway, their foster mom loved them very much, and she made every effort to allow them to ride our bus every Sunday. I can just see Chicago in my mind's eye right now...I'm pretty sure if I was dropped off where I used to walk every Saturday, I probably wouldn't be lost...I'd probably be able to find my way to at least some of the houses I used to visit.
       But I'm not in Chicago anymore....I'm here in West Virginia where there are still broken stories...I have to hold back the tears and remain strong as they tell me about how their mom died when they were 3 or even 5, the same age as my own babies. I hold my breath  to stay strong as they tell me that when they are home, they are required to be the "MOM" to their siblings. Then I stood there while in group yesterday afternoon and watched a girl who usually flips out at the drop of a hat, apologize to a new staff member for giving her a hard time and that she will work on doing better...I think all of us, staff members, were ready to cry. That was a HUGE step in her life. I think what hurts me the most is the type of pain I see when they cut themselves....I've read that that is their way of coping with the inner pain they are feeling....they don't know any other outlet for pain.
       All of this brings me down to my subject...how do you properly describe PAIN? Is it the stabbing feeling in the pit of your stomach that a loved one is gone...is it the sinking feeling that you no longer have a home...is it the gnawing feeling that your lift has shifted in a way you didn't expect...is it the loss of your baby that was so very much apart of you as you carried it inside...is it the rejection of someone you thought cared....is it the loss of someone you thought was your friend....is the horrible pressure in the middle of your chest when you feel you can't breathe as you panic that nothing will ever slow down long enough for you to stand on two feet????? It can be any one of these things mentioned and so much more....how do you properly describe how someone is feeling? How can it be put on paper? I don't even think it's humanly possible to describe what the heart is truly feeling...you can only imagine, empathize and do the best that you can...especially if you have never been in a similar situation.
        As we all walk our daily life, we all should stop at some point and realize that we aren't the only ones who exist....someone somewhere is crying himself to sleep...someone is weeping over a fresh grave...someone holds their son or daughter's dog-tags close to their heart, wishing they could say, "I love you," one more time...someone is alone and wondering where their next meal is coming from....some child is hiding in a closet while their parent is passed out drunk or fried...some mother is looking down at an empty crib where all of her dreams are gone...someone, somewhere is in PAIN....

This and That

       Well, it seems like I don't get on here much to write, but this is one of the best things I can do....write. GROWL! I feel like I want to scream but there's no sound sometimes! I don't know why I have always wanted to work with troubled teens; then now I'm doing it and in no way are you really prepared as to how you will really really feel or respond. When you start something like this, you are putting your heart out there to be trampled over and over again; eventually, I believe that it will be scar-tissue and you won't feel anything anymore...at least, that's how I see it. I haven't worked with teen for about 5 years now when I taught school and the youth group....those kids did the same things to me then too...BUT my heart has always been to work with teens again, and this time, it's with kids with NO coping skill whatsoever....Don't get me wrong, I am in no way complaining....just venting the frustrations that I can't fully tell another soul and have them fully understand. And maybe in some way, I can walk away from my lap-top and forget that I have feelings. Maybe I will be able to say, "Mirror, mirror on the wall, please make me into a brick WALL!" I'm getting better, I suppose, but I've only been at this for a little over a month now. I've been saying that I want to make a difference in somebody's life, and now here's the chance.....Maybe, I will be honored to see some of the positive results in the distant future. Now, I know how to better train my own children to be model citizens and not end up like these kids. I can't help it....I love them whether they feel the same for me, it doesn't matter....I will be sad when they leave the program but also happy that they were able to complete it.
       On a different note, I am doing better with my work-out program. I met with my personal trainer today, and she encouraged me that I look like I'm getting into shape. She REALLY worked me out today as well! Balance exercises on a Bosu Ball looks easier than it really is! Let's just say that as I was doing these exercises, I was pleading, "MERCY!" in my mind. I'm NOT a wimp by any means, and I'm happy to say that my core is getting stronger and stronger every day. I feel muscles I didn't even know existed for the past  29 years of my life! I even strained a few in my upper back that I have to be careful with....but eh, it's all good. I am stronger than I ever thought I could be. Being strong physically will make you strong mentally as well. This is transforming me inside and out! I am happy to announce that I have lost 50 pounds! I have worked so hard for this! I still have a little ways to go, but I have gone far. For anyone who thinks they can't do it, you're wrong....once you have a breaking point, there will be no return for you....you have to have a breakthrough, a point where you realize that you are stronger than you think you are...a place where you know that you can do this and that you are worth doing it for.
       I have been following alot more sports lately; maybe it's because I am a football fanatic (GO STEELERS AND OSU!), but in all I love baseball, hockey, basketball, etc...oh, I'll even watch racing. I don't know...I was jazzed that the Pittsburgh Penguins won the other night! Now, I'm rooting for my Cleveland Cavs! Just thought I'd throw this paragraph in for all you sports' fanatics and haters! :)
       Life is good; I love my kids and hubby. I have great friends and family, but most of all, I love my GOD. Without Him, I am nothing but a piece of clay, dirt...He is my everything.

FOREVER

       It was only a week ago that I was with the whole family in Ohio...it was a week ago that I saw my Grandma Tirado in the morning, went over my sister's house to watch NEW MOON, then celebrated my Grandma Wetzl's 87th Birthday that evening. Time and existence seem surreal sometimes especially when someone passes from this earth into eternity. My second cousin, Jimmy Wetzl, was in a tragic accident last Wednesday morning and passed that evening. He was only a year younger than my daddy, and they grew up spending alot of time together. I sometimes feel that time is speeding right in front of my eyes. As I sat in the room with my Grandma Wetzl and watched her as she blew out her candles, I was remember Easters past when we used to gather in my uncle's basement and sang "Happy Birthday" to her...that was when I was a little girl...years have passed and I see the same family, now older, yet they all have the same humor. I happen to feel that even though the body ages, the spirit doesn't. That spirit is built to last FOREVER. We are immortal beings even if our bodies don't live forever. The part of us that laughs, cries, sings, talks, lives forever. When you love me, you love my spirit, the part of me that communes with you. One day, my tongue will be silenced, but I will live FOREVER. My eyes may close in death, you may never hear my voice again on this earth, my arms may never embrace you again, but my spirit lives FOREVER in eternity.
       You may wonder how I am so certain, how I am so at peace with the fact that I know where my spirit will go when I die. I questioned it over and over again throughout the years as I was growing up. I just wasn't grounded in how and why I believed the way I did. Don't get me wrong; my parents raised me in a great Christian home. My dad is a pastor, and every evening, my mom read us a story from the Bible. We prayed before each meal, I was sent to a private school. I was given every opportunity to know where I'd spend eternity. Actually, when I was 7 years old, I knelt beside my bed, right after school, and told God that I was a sinner, I knew Jesus died for me and I asked Jesus in my heart. I believe I was saved that very day, but I really became confused throughout the years as bitterness crept in due to the way some "Christians" treated me and my family. I didn't understand how someone could call themselves a Christian and still act like Satan's brother or sister. I remember being so angry and bitter as a teenager and allowing these people to steal my joy. I hated them with my whole being, all the while going through the motions of being a Christian myself. Yes, I went to church, read my Bible, played the piano in church, sang in the choir...you name it, I probably did it and you would never know all that was brewing under the surface.
       Then, we ran into my dad's cousins who didn't live that far from us. I remember going over their house and my dad talking to them; they even came to church with us for a little while. The little girl, Bridget, was about 10 and she would stop by my school on her way home from her own school. I was a Senior in high school. She was my "ray of sunshine" and I enjoyed talking to her. When she was murdered, I was in such a fog that anyone could hurt such an innocent child. I was angry at God. Mind you, we weren't extremely close, but they had just come into our lives and I was just getting to know my third cousin who shared my last name. I carried that anger and bitterness into college with me. Then while sitting in chapel in December of 1999, I heard a message that kind of put my whole life into perspective. The speaker talked about how his family was in a tragic accident and as his little girl lay bleeding on the road in the pouring rain, he knew that those may have been the last minutes he had with her. He put it into God's hands. I sat there and didn't understand how he could do that. I was confused as to how he could be so calm all the while knowing he may lose his one daughter and have a vegetable with his other daughter. Tears poured down my face and my heart was troubled for the rest of that day.
       That night, when I got off work, I walked back to the chapel and just sat there and cried. I knew everything there was to know about Christianity except the faith part. I was bogged down with anger, guilt and bitterness. All of this was clouding up my spiritual vision and I could not see straight to know whether or not I'd be going to Heaven when I closed my eyes in death. Then this story of FAITH struck me to my core. I was tired of hating people who had messed with my head...I was tired of being angry at all authority just because a few of my authority had taken advantage of their authority and done me and my sister and brother wrong. AND I was tired of being angry at God for allowing my cousin to be murdered. In all, I had blamed God for everything. That very evening, I decided to talk to my dean the next morning. I went to her office and told her everything. She said something that has been with me since. "Liz, how dare you blame God for something He didn't do. He has loved you and will always love you." I bowed my head with tear streaming down my 19-year old face and prayed...I asked God for forgiveness and asked Him to be my Savior once and for all. I re-dedicated my life to Him.
       I became God's child at the age of 7, but I truly committed myself when I was 19. I have been through so much since. Many a tear has fallen from my face, but God has always been there for me, picking me up one piece at a time. I have never doubted my faith since that day, December 14, 1999. Today, I am 29, married with two children and working with troubled youth. I look into their eyes and my heart breaks because I wish for  them to know where they will spend eternity. Some of them hate Christianity or anything to that sounds like it. I've even had one resident tell me they were an atheist. My heart's desire would be that Jesus live through me so they can see that I am not out to hurt them but to help them live a fulfilled adult life. So many broken people all around us...if only they knew where they will be FOREVER...

Newness of Life

       Would you believe me if I told you that I've finally found my calling in life? I am almost 30 years old and have finally landed where my feet belong. I have always had this passion, but I never have been able to find a place to use it. I love working with kids in general, and yes, I have a teaching degree; I just have always wanted to actually make a difference in a child's life besides teaching them English. (although English will always be a passion of mine) I may have stated in an earlier blog about some of the kids I worked with in Chicago and how they impacted my life forever. That was over 7 years ago when I was in my earlier 20s! I have to say that I was in shock back then as to how a child can act the way some of these kids acted...then I was going into their homes and completely understanding their behaviors. So, now I have the opportunity to work with troubled kids again in a different kind of setting; in all, they are all the same---broken inside. I totally understand why they act the way they do; in no way am I a therapist but I know enough to know that they have no coping skills and that they are broken and need fixed. I have to say that the scariest part, to me, is knowing that they will not be in the program for long...that they are going back out into the real world where they messed up before coming there. I think the program is sound, and for the child that wants it, they will grasp the meaning of it and grow. Working with these kids only for a short while, I understand why some people wouldn't stay there long...it's the kind of job you can't take personally. Being called names goes in one ear and out the other. (you know the Charlie Brown cartoon when the teacher or principal is talking...."Wa Wa Wa, WaWa, Wa...")
       This all seems so surreal to me because I never dreamed that my dream could come true, then I'm brought back to reality when a child is throwing a temper tantrum, throwing milk all over the kitchen floor like it's a game...when a book goes flying through the air, etc. It's during the time when my heart is pounding in my ears as I try to figure out what they are going to do next and my adrenaline is pumping wondering if this needs to end in a restraint, that I remind myself that we have to get through this rough part before they begin to heal and change. I've heard that many change, and that brings hope to my heart because I know that what I am doing is so worth it...so worth doing...changing a life.

Precious in His Sight

      So, I started my new job this week at The Board of Childcare here in Martinsburg. We spent the whole week learning new techniques, many which were psychology based as to how to act and re-act with the children we will be dealing with. The main thing is to NEVER re-act. My eyes were opened even more, and even though I've worked with troubled teens in the past, this will be different as this is a treatment facility. The last thing we learned was how to use proper restraints which will hardly ever be needed if protocol is followed in stopping the situations from escalating. I think that everyone at some time in their life should learn about someone else besides themselves...learn that everyone in this world doesn't always live the way you would live. Not everyone is blessed to have a dad and a mom who love them and provide for them. I am blessed. I was raised in a loving family who cared for me and my needs emotionally and physically. These children don't come from homes like that.
       When I would go to Chicago every weekend while in college, I would run into situations that stung me to my core. One situation I will NEVER forget. I don't really remember who was with me at the time, but there was a little 5 year old boy named Jamie (pronounced Himey) who lived with I believe his grandmother. I just remember going to visit him and his brother one Saturday and knocking and knocking on the door. Just as me and my partner were about to leave, his grandma answered the door and the smell of alcohol and weed wafted into the hallway. As soon as she recognized us, she invited us in. There were people passed out all over the apartment and beer bottles scattered everywhere! I thought I would be sick, but I retained my composure. Cigarette butts filled the ash tray and dirty dishes were strewn on the counters and table. I went into Jamie's room and talked to him. He was so excited to go to church the next day...As soon as we left and were well out of range, I broke down and sobbed. I just couldn't take it that an adult would allow such things to go on in front of an innocent child. Needless to say, not long after that, Jamie wasn't allowed to come to church anymore. I don't remember the circumstances as to why.
       I grew fond of Daisy, a teenage girl, who was sent to Guatemala by her mom because she got into trouble with the law. The day I found that out, I cried as well. I became attached to these kids whom we invested our time and money but more importantly our HEARTS. They changed my life and how I see life in general. I saw things I never saw before...I would often ride the bus back on Saturday evening with tears streaming down my face as I watched the Chicago skyline go past my window. I was extremely thankful that I was blessed, and I knew that I would always have a heart for troubled children.
       I watched PRECIOUS tonight, and yes, it was very graphic. I was crying along with her as she said, "Nobody loves me." I loved that girl even though I didn't know her. I could see how verbally abused she was...how that emotional abuse along with the physical and sexual tore her to shreds...how broken she was...all she wanted was LOVE. Jesus is LOVE, and thru HIM I will LOVE these children I work with. I understand we will not have a friendship as that is necessary in this facility, but may they always remember that they are loved as they leave to live their life. They truly are precious in HIS sight.

Religiosity

       Take any religion, and you will find a loyal group of followers willing to do as bidden by a priest, reverend, pastor, etc. There are "die-hards" who will die by their beliefs and refuse to change unless they be considered "as sinning or being damned to hell." Whether they believe in Mother Earth, Buddha, Mohammad, Joseph Smith, Allah, or the One TRUE GOD, GOD HIMSELF, these people are usually drowning in their "religiosity." You may wonder where I pulled out such a word, and yes, it does exist. Religiosity simply means "the quality of being religious, esp. of being excessively, ostentatiously (showy display) or mawkishly (nauseous or insipid) religious." In other words, being bound in this frame of mind is poisonous not only to yourself but to those around you. As a child, I used to wonder if I was in the "right religion," but I never asked because I knew the answer I'd be given. The thing is, I don't really believe that God wanted us to have all of these religions; all He wanted was for us to praise and glorify Him. He was our Creator, the One who breathed the breath of life into our lungs. The least we could do is acknowledge that and worship at His feet.
       I don't want to get off track here; all I want to express is that most people steeped in some kind of religion often lose track of why they do what they do. Is it to "show-off" -- to let everyone know you are "on the straight and narrow." The "look-at-me" syndrome is quite popular in religion of any kind. It isn't necessary to have what you are doing to be seen by man! It isn't really that important to do things for man either! I don't care if man has told you to do something, the most important aspect is to make sure it's God who is doing the talking, no matter the subject! I grew up in a Christian home. I often thought whatever I was taught was "the law." Most of the time, it was from the Bible, but then again, I never researched it for myself. I wasn't then nor am I now rebellious of anything I was taught. I just know now to research for myself and not take everything that is told to me stand as "the law." I have the Holy Spirit living inside of me, and He does a pretty good job of convicting me and telling me when something is off or if I need to change something in my life.
      In no way would I ever write this as a degrading subject towards my former or present teachers in my life. I only write this so we are aware of what we really are doing. Are we doing it because "the prophet said so" or "but my pastor said?" Or are we doing what we do because GOD said so, or HIS WORD spoke and it is so? That is the most important thing we could ever do. No, we aren't going to be perfect, but our God is forgiving and just. I am still learning this myself, and have not perfected it in anyway. I only know that my eyes are opened, and I will know the "hope of his calling."

Lift Your Voice

       Ok, maybe I'm very good with my pen...maybe I'm braver, more articulate, better able to assemble my thoughts, but in all, that doesn't make me a weak person. In fact, it's better to be able to assemble your thoughts on paper. Sometimes spur-of-the-moment comments may and will hurt people. I know this by experience. I also know that the pen is like a sword in that if it isn't used properly, it can hurt deeply. Words can't be taken back. Once they are out there, they float and repeat themselves for as long as the mind wills them to re-play. I have used my pen to hurt others in the past, and for this, I am not a proud person. Not only have I used my pen, but also, I have used my tongue. Both of these have grieved me to my innermost being. But all I can do is apologize, pick myself up and go on...and NEVER do it again. Most importantly, I need to forgive myself. We often expect others to forgive us, but we leave out one important thing, forgiveness of ones' self.
       So, in the wee hours of the morning, I sit here and lift my voice in praise and worship to my all-mighty God! I can use my pen to glorify Him and Him alone, for without Him, I wouldn't have this ability. "All of creation sing with me now, fill up the Heavens, let His glory resound." I love these words because all of creation does praise her maker...look at the sun as it salutes the morning sky, the flowers as they open in adoration to their king, the deer in the field lifts its' head in strength and beauty to the creator of all...the birds sing to their maker, the giant trees bow in awe, and yet, we as humans often miss this opportunity to praise our Creator, our King, our Heavenly Father...He is the creator of ALL things, He has breathed life into our lifeless beings, He is the reason I sing, the reason I write, the reason I wake up in the morning! Oh God, if only everyone on this Earth could really understand Your magnificence, Your power...how the ground trembles at Your voice. It is You who gives life and takes it away. I know that You are my only Saviour, my only Provider. I lift my voice to You, for You are my everything!

Brand-new Beginnings

       I know the title of today's blog is an oxymoron, but I think it just fits today! I am going to greater heights spiritually and physically. This time, I have my hubby to help me on this weight loss/healthy living journey. It somehow seems easier now that I have a partner who is health-conscience. Of course, he is allowed to eat more points than me. (not fair! :) As soon as I'm done writing this, I will be getting my gym clothes on and running downstairs to make a healthy, protein- filled turkey burger dinner with fresh green beans! I'm very excited to meet with my personal trainer tonight; I'm just kind of nervous as to how she'll have me working out and not being in shape, therefore, huffing and puffing my way to strength, health and victory.
        I stood on the scale this morning in dis-belief! I hadn't gained any of the weight back that I had worked so hard to get off! I was thankful, and it gave me great courage to keep going on this journey. I truly feel that I can be to my goal weight by this summer-time! I plan on working hard, eating right and teaching my kids to make the right choices!

My Grace is Sufficient

       So, I have been sick now for almost a month, but I am so very thankful for a roof over my head and a warm place to live. I am awake right now after having some sinus issues, but I know that I am on my way to recovery. I believe that God's healing power is alive and active in me. I have fallen short in so many areas of my life, and this sickness has humbled me to my knees. God deserves all of the glory in my life. He is the ultimate Healer. I remember being very sick when I was about 9 years old. My dad gave me some medicine, and I began to feel somewhat better. He proceeded to ask me who healed me. I said the medicine did. He then taught me that medicine doesn't heal, but God uses the medicine as a tool to help us get well. That lesson stuck with me to this day. No medicine will work in your body unless God wills it to, for He is the Creator of medicine. He put it in some person's mind how to make medicine for our sicknesses. God knows what He's doing in my life. I only trust Him to heal me as I know He has already. I can't answer for anyone as to why certain things come into my life, but I do know that I am learning daily, and while being ill, I see more of what needs changed in my spiritual life. I am not saying that that is the only time, but sickness has a way of humbling one to take a good look at your life. God's grace abounds in so many ways in my life. I do not deserve His love, yet He gives it. I do not deserve His forgiveness, yet He offers it. Thank You, God, for bringing people in my life who show me different things about myself. Thank You for your grace and forgiveness. Thank You for Your healing power.

City on Our Knees

       I feel that right now we are at a crossroads in Christianity, a place where many of our fore-fathers have also stood years ago. The only thing I fear is that we, as this present generation, may not be strong enough to make the right decision. We spend too much time thinking about the now instead of the future. Yes, we need to be able to make decisions for our families in the "now," yet can we not look towards the future while doing so? I hate what my country has become in these past years. I hate seeing so many people who have given up and have decided that "this is it." I refuse to think that we, as an American people, with "one nation under God" can actually give up, lay down and die. I would go and fight for my country tomorrow if I didn't have an obligation to my children and my husband. I believe that much in America and what we have stood for in the years past. I know that somewhere in America, there are a people, Christians, who believe as I do at this very moment...all it takes is right here, right now, a city on our knees. "If we've got to start somewhere, why not here? If we've got to start sometime, why not now?" Our nation won't change for the better until we are willing to start with ourselves. I'm tired of the broken promises in the White House. I'm tired of the criticism of our soldiers. My brother is a soldier, and I will defend what he does. I'm tired of the crying and complaining of the economy...why aren't we going back to the verse that says, "If my people which are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from Heaven and will heal their land." Let's join hands, hearts, kneel in humility and pray to the God who created this free home we call the
United States of America. May God bless the USA.

ROSE BOWL

       How very proud I am at the moment that O-H-I-O State Buckeyes won the Rose Bowl 2010! Commentators had us losing by a landslide to Oregon, and I must say at some points, I was a bit nervous for our team! But we rose strong and victorious, beating Oregon 26 to 17! I proudly wore my Ohio state t-shirt and hat this morning long before the game began knowing that I'd be proud of our boys no matter the outcome! I even had Josh take a picture of me by our Christmas tree which proudly has the colors of OSU. So, today, January 1, 2010, I am even more proud to be a native Ohioan! :)