Lost and Found...

Hello my blogland framily!!!  I hope you've all had a wonderful week! 

Last week went by and found me dealing with a blood pressure flare up.  Let me give you background:  I've always had low blood pressure; never higher than 116/65-70.  One Saturday in November 2014 found me not feeling well and I had no idea what was wrong.  I talked to my sister, who's a nurse, and she suggested (strongly) that I go have my blood pressure checked.  I finally found somewhere to have it checked and it was super high (that was right in the midst of some personal life drama), ended up in urgent care, had a follow-up doctor's appointment and ended up on a low dose of meds for 4 months.  Had full bloodwork done - nothing.  It went back to a (new) normal, then it flared back up again in December 2015.  I had an EKG and a stress test at that time and all was well with my heart. Fast forward to last Monday and I started not feeling well, took my blood pressure and it was up. I left early to get some rest.  Tuesday it was good, but Wednesday I was feeling terrible again, and when I got home and took my pressure, the bottom number was up to 96 and was rising!  (*sidebar* I sound like somebody's Big Momma, talking about "my pressure," lol!)  I drank some NASTY apple cider vinegar water and it went down enough for me to sleep.  The next morning, it was right back up, the bottom number got up to 100 and my doctor told me to come in immediately.  Long story short, I'm back on meds again, for a few months, then another round of bloodwork to come so we can try and find out what the cause is.  All that to say, you all keep me in your prayers; not feeling this full scale revolution thing that is happening with this over 40 body of mine!!!  

Onto the subject of my post- as you know, this past Sunday was Father's Day.  At first, I wasn't gonna be able to hang out with my dad because his schedule was chock full.  So I was a little disappointed, although I didn't tell him that, but I said ok.  I sent him a Father's Day text early in the morning before I started getting ready for church and he called to say that he thought about it and he was going to make the time to hang out with me. Yay!  See, the thing is, I'm thinking I'm kind of a daddy's girl...

I was not fortunate enough to have my parents growing up, due to grown up drama that had nothing really to do with me.  As a result, I didn't have a "daddy" per se (I've stated before that I lived with my grandparents from the age of 8 until I got married and moved out when I was 23).  I struggled with not having my parents, despite having very loving grandparents.  I had a very tenuous relationship with my parents; I didn't really have a relationship with either of them until I was an adult.  Then it was almost like tug of war between them for awhile, which kinda sucked!  When I had my kids, I sat both of them down and asked them to just be the best grandparents they could be.  And you know what?  To their credit, they have been AWESOME!!! My mom, "Little Grandma," and my dad, "Grandpa-pa," have surpassed my wildest dreams - they love my kids and my kids love them.  Awesome sauce! 

I took my first photo with both of my parents in 2006... I was almost 35.  Let that marinate. Anyway, fast forward to 2010 when my grandmother was sick, hospitalized and later died.  I ended up spending a lot of time with my mother and a shift happened in our relationship.Slowly, but surely, she began to fill the void left by my grandmother.  She can't replace grandma, but she has definitely been my mom when I needed her to be.  And for that, I am forever grateful...

But this post is about my dad.  So my parents were young when I was born and it was pretty scandalous in the early 70s for young, unwed, church folks to end up pregnant.  There was a lot of drama going on at that time and unfortunately, I lost my dad in the process.  That had a lot of repercussions, (which are not the subject of this post), but I always wanted and NEEDED my dad.  Over the years, I reached out several times and would "catch and release." When I really grew up, I reached out again, and we both decided to try this thing again.  And you know what?  We haven't looked back since that day!  Now, sometimes things are a little wonky because we're not used to being there (ie. - he's not used to having a daughter and I'm not used to having a dad), but we are working on it. 

I've learned (scratch that, still learning) that I still need him, even though I'm 45 and have my own kids, I still need my daddy.  Only daddies can have righteous indignation when someone does their daughters wrong!  Only daddies still want to protect their "baby girl" when she is hurting.  Only daddies (and mommies) can feel the anguish of not being able to help when they know their child is in trouble.  Only daddies can make their daughter feel like a princess when he gives her unexpected gifts, takes her out for dinner, bakes her red velvet cake and sweet potato pie on request, makes paella, does tequila shots with her for her birthday, and honors her requests for selfies (even when you hate the way you look in pictures because you know that she scrapbooks and pictures are important to her)- - - wait, maybe that's just MY DADDY!  And we've made a commitment to getting together at least once a month (last month for birthday dinner, and this month for Father's Day lunch).  All of that is a good thing and I've been loving the extra time with my dad.  And I'm loving that we've been able more and more to have one-on-one time to just be.  And you know what? I've learned that my dad kinda needs me too... (but that's not the subject of this post either).

Scripture tells the parable of the prodigal son over in Luke 15:11-32.  If you're not familiar, here's a recap:  a father has two sons, the youngest of which asks for his inheritance early. the father gives it to him, and he runs off and spends it wastefully, ends up in a famine, all before deciding to go home, beg for forgiveness and ask his father if he can be one of the hired servants.  Instead, his father sees him on the road, welcomes him back and prepares a feast for him, including a fat calf that was generally reserved for special occasions.  The older son refused to participate, noting that he had never disobeyed his father or left and he had never had so much as a goat prepared for him and his friends!  The father reminded the older son that everything he had would belong to him but that they should still celebrate the return of the younger son, because he was lost and is now found.  This parable is the last of Jesus' parables on loss and redemption, about how the Father always welcomes home his lost sheep.

So why on earth did I choose this passage of scripture?  Well, as usual I thought I was writing about one thing and was led to go in a completely different direction!!!  This post was (so I thought) going to be about me and how I'm a new-fangled, 45-year old daddy's girl. But He had other ideas apparently!  What it's all about is lost and found.

Yep, that's right.  Lost and found.  Like my regular blood pressure.  LIke my parents, specifically like my daddy.  And yes, I am 45 and I call him "daddy" not "dad."  But more so like when we leave from under the covering of our Heavenly Father and He always welcomes us back with open arms.  Jesus compares Himself to a shepherd and we believers are His sheep.  John 10:11 says that the "good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep."  That is exactly what Christ did for us when he lay down his life for us on Calvary. He's always standing there with open arms ready to welcome us to Him, when we repent and accept Him.  And just like my daddy wants to be my helper, protector and treat me like a princess, so does our Heavenly Father want to do the same for us.  If we just return to Him, like the prodigal son returned to his father.

So all that to say - I'm a certified Daddy's Girl, both for my earthly Father and my Heavenly Father.  Just as I thank God for being returned to my earthly father, I also thank God for being returned to Him, because I was one of his lost sheep.  And that, is very good news!!!

So framily, have a great weekend and if you have strayed from the flock, consider going to church this Sunday and returning.  He's waiting for you!!!

Don't forget to Holla @ Darvi and be blessed! xoxoxo

P.S. - Here's some pics of me and my daddy, from my birthday dinner and Father's Day!

 

Reflections on being 45…it has been the best of times and the worst of times!

Happy Tuesday, Blog Framily!  I hope you’ve had a wonderful three weeks!  I have been enjoying my birthday... The big 45.  I paused for a minute to let that sink in (I've been letting it sink in for the past 3 weeks...).

I am truly grateful to God for allowing me to have 45 years on this side and to experience all parts of life, the good, the bad, the ugly!!! Because, face it, it is all parts of life that have shaped me into the me of today (the good, the bad and the ugly…).  Here’s a recap:

I was born – May 25, 1971!  Not born under the ideal circumstances at the time, but I was born.  Here’s a baby picture, not newborn, we had a fire and my baby book was destroyed, but an infant photo just the same:  

And I was given the blessing of being raised by my maternal grandparents, who were to me, simply “Gramma and Gran-deddy” (you have to get that phonetic pronunciation going).

I attended an awesome preschool at Triedstone Full Gospel Church, where I learned to read very early and my love of reading was born (I was reading my mom’s books when I was in kindergarten)!  This is where I had my first graduation; I still remember us singing and performing “10 little Indian boys and girls” (I had forgotten that, it just came back to my remembrance today).  Here’s a picture of my graduation, it’s from 1976:

I attended Bates School (which no longer exists) where I had some awesome teachers that recognized my academic potential and jumped me after a week or two in first grade to second grade.  It was at Bates where I met some folks that would become eternal friends, where I developed my abhorrence for chocolate (milk, ice cream, pudding, frosting, egh!), where I was encouraged to just keep reading and writing, where my fear of worms and dogs was tested to new heights, where I had my first fight and my first crush.  It was also at Bates School where my 5^th grade teacher recommended that I (along with 3 other students) go to Kellogg School to be part of the options for knowledge program, a move that changed my life.

1981 found me being bussed to Kellogg and it was such an important part of my life journey!  I was in the options program in 6^th grade, and it was there I learned to research and really develop my writing.  It was a small school, only one class for each grade, and we were relatively close.  My graduating class had 32 people in it!  It was there I had access to physical science and biology classes, made lifetime friends, participated in “teach-ins” and plays, went to the opera, and was exposed to different things outside of my neighborhood, like a progressive dinner (which I SHALL recreate one day!).  I wish I had pictures, but we were busy living life, not photographing it!  I do have some pictures from my 8^th grade graduation; this is one with me with my mom back in 1984 after the graduation:

The next phase of my life was high school; from 1984-1988, I was an Honors Student at Morgan Park High School right on the south side of Chicago!  There I started my 4-year journey with a small group of students who were in the Honors Track with me and met some others along the way; again, lifetime friendships were formed.  It was there that I had experimental haircuts (asymmetrical bob, anyone?), survived neon and an obsessive fascination with pink during 1985, went on college tours, had sleepovers, played sports, went on dates (once I was old enough), learned how to drive, had my first heartbreak, had my first job (Brown’s Chicken on 116^th & Western), had many excursions to Evergreen Plaza, and enjoyed the heck out of my senior year, including prom.  Those were some of the best years of my life!!!  Here is my "official" senior year book picture:

After that was college; from 1988-1992 I was a student at the University of Illinois in Urbana –Champaign, where I attended on full scholarship.  It was there that I joined my sorority (Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, Inc.), learned that I actually needed to STUDY to get good grades, traveled up and down I-57 more times that I can count, gained and lost the freshman 15, went on road trips, learned to truly live on my own, lost my grandfather (1992, 3 weeks before graduation), grew up and made lifelong friends.  My college graduation was one of the best days of my life, May 17, 1992 (I graduated just mere days before my 21^st birthday):  

Then that came my first forays into real adulthood (1992-2000):  I entered law school (I left law school; took a gap year then went back again), I got engaged and married (later separated and divorced), bought a house, became a mother (to the Teen), went back to school and graduated again, and met who would then become my second husband.  Here are my two graduation photos from John Marshall in 1997 and 2000, respectively:

Just before my 30^th birthday, I got married again and experienced a wonderful honeymoon in Italy.  I had my 30^th birthday twice, once in Rome and then again in Chicago when I got home where my grandmother had prepared all of my favorite foods!  Then just after my 30^th birthday, all hell broke loose.  I was pregnant at the time and ended up in the hospital having emergency surgery on June 19, 2001, when my (unknown) ectopic pregnancy burst my fallopian tube.  I almost died.  To say that was a life-changing event is truly the understatement of ever.  I was hurt and angry.  I had lost my baby and almost my life.  But on the brighter side, I was able to spend that whole summer with the teen before he started school in the fall and we had many adventures!

Fast forward (2002+): We had a house built in the suburbs, was pregnant again in 2003 (after a miscarriage in 2002), gave birth to the tween in 2004 and was generally ok in life… until it changed again!  I turned 35 in 2006 and was feeling rather blah with things.  So the next few years found me separated (again) and moving with my babies in 2009.  Life still went on; I went back to school again (2009), lost my grandma (2010), turned 40 (2011), began a relationship I thought would be my last (it clearly wasn’t), moved again and life was good.. until it wasn’t.  Here's my 2011 graduation picture from Governors State:

The rest of the story you already know:  lost my job in 2013, lost some friends and my relationship (2015), and lost my house (2015), but here I stand.  I gained an awesome church family (Victory Apostolic), began working on several ministries there, became a board member for Habitat for Humanity South Suburbs (2015), joined the Top Ladies (2016), reconnected with some wonderful people and developed some new friendships as well, and am slowly, but surely, righting my balance. 

And that brings us to today, just three weeks after my 45^th birthday, which I celebrated with 50-60 of my friends and family with a Kate Spade-inspired party!  Wasn’t I cute????  

When I look back over my life’s journey, like everyone else’s, it’s not a straight line, but a series of ups and downs as I experienced the best of times and sometimes the worst of times.  But I can truly say that I’ve been blessed and I indeed have a testimony.  I can also say that I’m content and have joy! No, things aren’t perfect where I stand right now, not by a long shot.  But I can see the hand of God at work in my life, from having me skip 1^st grade to living with my grandparents to sending me to U of I on a full scholarship, to passing the bar exam on the first try under truly egregious and mostly non-existent study conditions, to every unhappy ending and each new beginning – brand new mercies everyday!!! Looking back gives me even more hope for the future!  My future is so bright, I gotta wear shades!!!

Scripture says:  Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and lean not to thine own understanding.  In all thy ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path – Proverbs 3:5-6.  I don’t know about you, but I am learning more and more each day to trust God with EVERYTHING, even the things that seem small, and to listen to the urgings of the Holy Spirit in telling me what to do.  And you know what?  He will indeed direct your path!  It is a learning curve, for sure, but it gets easier and easier the more you do it.

 

I would like to take this time to thank my village – my family and friends – who have been there through all of it:  the good times, the bad times, the happy times, the sad times.  As one of my favorite songs by the Mississippi Mass Choir says:  "having you there made the difference."  So thank you.  I appreciate and love my village so much, even though I'm not always able to see or talk to them, I know they are there, rooting for me, praying for me. And it makes it all worth it.

I know that I have indeed been blessed in my 45 years; and I believe that God still has yet to do his greatest work through me.  Right now, I am going where He leads me and enjoying each step of the journey.  I hope that you will trust Him with your journey too!

Have a blessed week!  Oh and I'm still collecting birthday wishes, so Holla @ Darvi!!!

xoxoxo