Giving Thanks Giving Its Day

Although I love Christmas it has become more and more disturbing to me how quickly stores are bringing out Christmas items, people are buying Christmas gifts, radio stations are playing Christmas music, and Christmas decor is being decked about the halls. I remember when I was a child we would never go get our Christmas tree until the Saturday after Thanks Giving. We always fully celebrated Thanks Giving as I believe we all should. It is not just a holiday for Pilgrims it is a time to reflect on ones blessings, to give "thanks" to your Maker for the bountiful "harvest" of the year. I believe when we take the time to fully give our gratitude to God for our blessings he well bless us more so let us celebrate the Day of Thanks! My friend posted this challenge of gratitude on her facebook wall and I think it is a spectacular way to start of the week. I challenge everyone else to make this list of 100 things you are grateful for as well, you may be surprise what you come up with in your list.

The Gratitude Challenge
List 100 Thing You Are Grateful For

10 Living People You Are Grateful For:

• my parents (they count as one since they act as one)
• Kim/Steve (ditto)
• Jimmy/Cyndy
• Jana/Jerry
• Leslie
• all my nephews and nieces
• my doctors!
• my best fiend -- he knows who he is
• everyone who has been genuinely kind to me in my past and present
• Jesus Christ 

10 People Who Have Died That You Are Grateful For:

• my paternal grandparents
• my maternal grandparents
• Joseph Smith
• Nephi
• George Washington
• Gordon B. Hinkely
• Moroni
• Peter
• Abraham Lincoln
• Walt Disney

10 Physical Abilities You Are Grateful For:

• sight
• hearing
• touch
• taste
• speaking
• walking
• performing activities of daily living
• laughing
• smiling
• singing

10 Material Possession You Are Grateful For:

• my doggies!
• my house
• Bruce :)
• my clothes, i love my style
• my computer
• my pictures, memories are very precious
• my high end mattress
• my entertainment
• my books
• anything that makes me happy

10 Things About Nature You Are Grateful For:

• Trees
• Mountains
• Bears
• Dogs
• Beaches
• Fresh Air
• Baby animals
• Seasons
• Majesty/Magic/Freedom
• Creation

10 Things About Today You Are Grateful For:

• SLEEP!
• FOOD!
• got my laundry done
• didn't have to go into work
• SHOWER!
• got to play farmville
• played with my doggies
• made this list
• read letters from Chris
• ate M & M's

10 Places On Earth You Are Grateful For:

• Disneyland
• Orem, Utah
• Wasatch Front
• San Francisco
• Paradise, Ut
• Nauvoo, Ill
• Burlington, Ia
• Norway (I'd like to go there someday)
• Great Britain (ditto)
• China/Japan 

10 Modern Day Inventions You Are Grateful For:

• the toilet (don't tell me that shouldn't be number one on every one's list!)
• toothpaste/toothbrush
• indoor/heated plumbing
• electricity
• air conditioning
• shampoo/body wash/razors
• cell phones/computers
• contact lenses
• microwaves/toaster ovens
• refrigerator/freezer

10 Foods You Are Grateful For:

• Chocolate!
• Mangoes
• Peaches
• Bread
• Funeral Potatoes
• Salmon if cooked right
• Brownies
• Rice
• Zupa Salads
• Avocados

10 Spiritual Things You Are Grateful For:

• The Book Of Mormon
• The Bible
• President Monson (Living Prophets)
• The Restored Gospel Of Jesus Christ
• The Atonement/Resurrection
• Life After Death
• Eternal Families
• Eternal Promises
• Prayer
• Knowing I'm A Child Of God

SAMMY THE SNAIL

By

LeAnn Garrison

Inspired by

John Hancock

“And inches to go before I sleep, and inches to go before I sleep. For miles I have gone that cause me to weep and sorrow I feel is all I have reaped.”

“Well, that is a very sad song you sing my friend for someone who has traveled far and wide. Accomplished much and saved many lives.”

“Saved many lives? I’ve saved no life, who speaks? I can not see your face, come closer.”

“What does it matter who I am Sammy, I am your friend and I know of your acts. You speak ill of yourself why do you do this?” The voice asked crisply.

Sammy the Snail scrunched his very snaily eyes, for snails have poor eye site you see.

“I know you are there because I can hear you but I can not see you. Are you a ghost, a specter, or a ghoul? Come to steal my pitiful snaily soul?” Sammy asked suspiciously.

The voice laughed with melody and Sammy became offended.

            “Why are you laughing at me?”

            “Oh, Sammy. I’m not laughing at you, I love you.”

            “You love me?” Now Sammy was really suspicious, no one loved him.

            “Yes.”

            “Why?”

“Because I know you and I have seen what you have done and what you have done is wonderful.”

Sammy could almost hear the smile that came across the hidden lips as the voice said “wonderful”. He thought back on his journey long and hard. What was so wonderful about it? He was so tired all he wanted was to sleep.

“I don’t mean to be rude but I really want to reach my resting nest and just go to sleep. I don’t want to think about my journey any more.”

And with that Sammy inched forward and nestled himself down into his mossy nest. “Ahhh…” Sammy sighed to himself. He could feel the sadness sleep away as sleep took over is little body.

            “Sammy wake up!”

            “What?!” What is it?” Sammy bolted up almost jumping entirely out of his shell.

            “Sleep is not the answer!”

            “Well, it is for me!” Sammy was becoming a crabby snail now.

            “Do you know what a ripple effect is Sammy?”

“No! Go away!” Sammy hunkered down inside his shell in hopes that the mystery voice would go away.

            “What happens when you drop a rock in a pond?”

“I don’t care!” the grouchy snail sneered, plugged up his ears, and started humming to himself.

“Waves move out from the center and the waves get bigger as they move out from the center. Animals can cause ripple effects Sammy. Animals just like you.”

Sammy stopped humming and slowly popped his eyes out of his shell one at a time.

            “What are you saying exactly?”

“Sammy, on your journey you experienced things that were difficult and tiring but you haven’t stopped to look back and see the effects of your rippling!”

“My rippling?”

Sammy curiously pulled himself from his shell and sloshed his slimy body around. To his amazement he discovered a most grandiose site. Animals and creatures he had met along his journey, plus many more, all gathered behind him with glowing smiles spread across their faces. In unison they rushed forward and showered the surprised snail, who had helped “save their life”, even in the smallest of ways, with an over abundance of thanks and love. Sammy was overcome, he had no idea what a rippling effect was and how his small influences had actually made a difference. It instantly made up for how hard the journey had been for him. Sammy smiled a contented little smile and whispered,

“Voice you are my truest friend wont you now show yourself to me?”

A small breeze danced around Sammy’s face and the voice sang back in his ear, “I already have, I am the wind, the water, fire, and the rain. I am the earth beneath and the heaven above, I am creation. And you Sammy the Snail have created a most joyful ripple effect.”

The Black Widow

She looks just like Charolette

Latrodectus the Black Widow Spider. Is very misunderstood. I have one living in my garage that I have named Charolette. She's been there all summer, plumping up from eating all the bugs that get into the garage. Black Widows have a bad reputation for eating their male counterparts, being an aggressive hunter, and having a deadly neurotoxin. However, contrary to popular belief not all species of the Latrodectus genus devower their poor unsuspecting mates after fertilization. Nor are they aggressive, they are extremely shy and will run away at any sign of danger. Their neurotoxin, latrotoxin, can cause some discomfort if your dumb enough or just unlucky to get bitten. (They will only bite you if they are "cornered" hence, if you try to pick them up. If they sense an escape route they will shoot for that first.) The latrotoxin causes a disorder called Latrodectism, which symptoms are similar to tetany. Painful muscle cramping. Will it kill you, most likely not, unless you are an infant or a very small child. Interestingly enough hospitals in the US will not risk using antivenom on a black widow victim because the likely hood of you having a fatal reaction to the antivenom is much greater than having a fatal reaction to the actual latrotoxin itself! So they just watch you and give you morphine for the muscle cramps and let your own body take care of the rest. Most bites don't even end up as a severe systemic reaction. But when it comes to hunting, black widows are great, that is true! They are one of the best spiders you can have in your garden or wood pile. They really keep the pests down and don't bother you in the processes. Plus they are beautiful creatures and their webs are amazingly strong. They are a work of art from the Grand Creator. It has made me think a bit about how we rashly judges others at times and so easily believe gossip that is spread about individuals. May be before jumping on the bandwagon of hate, fear, envy, and distrust so quickly we should suspend judgment of others until we have taken time to learn the truth ourselves. I have been the victim of misunderstanding, gossip, and judgment many times in my life and find it very heart breaking and sad. So the next time you see or hear of someone victimized as such, think of the black widow spider and how good she really is to the health and beauty of your home's flora, and stand up for that person.

Who Am? Where Am I Going? Where Do I Come From?

Last week I spent countless hours in the sun soaking up its rays on the beaches of Bear Lake. When I wasn't there I was spending time enjoying my family or just pondering off by myself in the beautiful cabin we rent every year in Garden City, UT for our family reunion. Working nights at the hospital made it difficult for me to go to sleep when everyone else did, so often I would stay up late reading or watching TV. One night I was watching a program on the science channel titled Children of the Stars. Interestingly it talked about how everything in the universe (all matter) is created from the birth and death of stars. We truly are heavenly creatures not just spiritually, but mortally as well. I have been pondering lately, "What is my purpose in this life?" We are taught that we must become as our Heavenly Father, but what is each of our individual purposes. What is the measure of my creation? What plan does God have for me to fulfill? I believe He does have one, I just need to seek and ask Him what it is. To guide me so I can fulfill His will for me. Russell M. Nelson said, "For the Monument of your life to rise from its pedestal of preparation to your appointed site of destiny, you must go where the Lord wants you to go. Wherever it is, each of us must go with the same faith that allowed us to leave our heavenly home in the first place."

Life Lessons from the Garden

This year I did not plant a garden, no flowers, no fruits, no vegetables. With how cold and long Spring was I never got around to starting it. Plus I started a new job around the time to begin it which added stress to my life and the garden just never was made a priority this year. So in its place a  menagerie of large and noxious weeds grew instead. Each week I would look out my window and say, "I really need to go out and get rid of those weeds." But alas, I always found something else I preferred to do instead. So the weeds grew and grew and grew. As of 2 days ago some of them were as tall as I am. It was early in the morning, after I got back from work, I was examining them and saw how they had leeched the soil and brought in unwanted bugs into the yard. Their roots were woody and had barbs around them making it nearly impossible to pull them out. But then I saw a plump red strawberry growing among the weeds. One of my strawberry plants managed to grow back among the weeds, in terrible soil, among the pests, and produce a few little tasty fruits. Of course the Spirit took this rare moment to teach several small but important lessons. You are the strawberry bush. Beautiful fruit is produced during some of the hardest seasons; the smallest efforts matter; the strawberry is beautiful but image how greater your joy would be with a garden full of strawberries .... do not wait to pull the weeds from your life until it is too difficult that it chokes your potential. It's funny how little everyday things can spark such important lessons. I'm glad they do because it keeps me open to the Spirit and humble. Well, the weeds are gone and I sprayed the yard down with bug killer, I had to have a moment of silence for all the good insects that croaked in the process. I plan to replenish the soil and plant a beautiful garden next year and hopefully I'll be able to post some great pictures for everyone.

A Deep Message From A Little Fish

Okay it has been years since coming to my blog but I am starting it up again. I'm opening it up now to whomever may want to read it because I hope to use it as a tool of inspiration and hope for me and in turn for others as well. And just a place to put goofy stuff and find happiness among the sadness. We all struggle and we're in this together. I was in a patient's room last night and she was watching Finding Nemo (such a great movie BTW) and it was at the part where all the fish get stuck in the fishing net. One fish alone can't hope to swim free but when we all swim against the net together we can break the cords that bind us. And of course who can forget the wise words from Dori? Well she can say it better than I can!

Memories of Iowa

Do you have a memory that sticks out in your mind? Summertime in Iowa is the grandest of mine. From my head to my toes the memories are stuck in my bones. I close my eyes and start to see fireflies, rivers, corn, and trees. The damp hot hair steams open my mind as memories begin to swell. Peppery-pan-fried catfish sizzling on the stove. My Grandma cuts the groesome head off and throws them in the garbage. I look into the can and see their black eyes staring, their soggy whiskers twisted, and their large mouths gaping open. The gooey smell is most revolting. I think I will not eat this stinky fish. But if I do not I will have no oatmeal cookies whose cinnamon smell has watered my mouth since morning. I can wash the fillet down with crisp watery melon that fills my mouth up with juicy sweet heaven. Then follow by buttery corn cobs bursting between my teeth. The golden, warm kernels pop inside my cheeks. I’m sure the fish is not that bad, it’s well worth the price I must pay, for scrumptious oatmeal cookies.
I go into the basement to watch my Grandpa saw. The screechy sound hurts my ears. I must cover them up if I want to stay. But the basement smells old, musty, and it’s cold. The corners are dark and the ceiling is low. I find it hard to breathe the dank, dirty air. I’m sure there is a ghost or two who have made their home down here. Bottles line the shelves with dust and decay, spider webs hang from almost every display. The stairway is steep and most creepy to climb but I think I’ll go back above ground where I can’t hear the ghouls whine. When the sun goes to sleep chirps, squeaks, and peeps sound of life. I hear the corn growing, it crackles and rustles. Twelve inches is not uncommon for corn to grow on a hot humid night. Fireflies glow leaving trails of white light and cicadas sing with trumpeting delight. A glass jar in my hand I race around in the grass yet the bugs are much too fast. I stumble and cry. "Daddy, will you catch me a firefly?" He is careful and steady as he snatches me a bug, screws on the lid tight, then hands me my little glowing light. I watch it with care as the fly crawls up a twig. It flashes and flutters while bumping his buggy head against the clear glass jar. I open the lid to give him his freedom but confused and afraid it just sits on the bottom. So I tip the jar over and lightly tap on the walls till my glittering insect flies out to his friends. My mother calls me in to snuggle down in my bed. I was tired that summer night, but still stored away this happy memory.

I Choose To Live

The path is laid before me but I must choose to walk it. At times it is uphill and laced with perilous dangers but if I am to return to sunshine and meadows of sweet smelling flowers I have to continue along this path of mine. This path is made for me and none other, but it has a direction and will lead to a tree of life. A rod of iron has been place along the treacherous edge for guidance and stability it I choose to use its steady power in my journey forward. At times there are forks and I need to choose which side to take; if I am wrong, the path can miraculously return to that which was intended for my greatest happiness through penitence and faith. But if a boulder or barrier lays in front of me, if trenches and marshes harrow the way, the path will never be diverted. I can not navigate them safely on my own, I need to call for help. For the hand to hold so I do not stumble and the feet which have walked this path before me. He will guide me through the difficulties but never around them. My heart becomes stronger with each step and my spirit grows with each miracle made. By and by the path will lead to springs of living water and fruit of joy, hope, and peace that I may partake of to strengthen my reserves. Meadows where love ones are met and you can share in the shining sun together. Companions are brought to you often to walk the distance with you on parallel paths that can join together for greater support. But each still has their own distinct path that is laid before them and only you can be the one that travels along its course. It is a trying path, yet a rewarding path if chosen. I will choose this path and I will walk it looking forward to the tree thereof and the place of rest with my loved ones forever and ever.

When you've hit rock bottom

How many times in ones life will you hit the bottom of the barrel? Once, twice, no unfortuneately I think many times. We suffer for what and why? For nothing, no I pray obviously something. Something greater than you or I; something cosmic and divine.

I trudge through mud so deep I may drown and yet a voice says keep going, soon you will find higher ground. Will it come as promised or am I forgotten, left alone to despair? I try my hardest as much as I can but it seems like not enough I am still stuck in the ground. No place to go, no sense of direction; do I keep walking and hope I choose the right way or sit and wait for guidance and risk sinking deeper into this mud of mine?

Who do I turn to, who do I trust? When all I feel is alone and lost, unheard in my prayers, and unnoticed in my efforts. I murmur much it may seem, my faith is weak and I constantly call for saving. If I was stronger perhaps I could pull myself from the trap but my energy is spent and my reserves are no more. All I have left is to reach up my hand and pray that someone will take it.

With hope shattered it's hard to reclaim, my body wishes to stop. But my soul will not give in, she is eternal and will fight to the end, a spark of faith is all she needs and a foot will move forward across this vast plain. There is no sense of direction, no beacon to follow but bending an ear to hear His small voice. Friends and loved ones surround, I am not yet as Job. Blessings have come to those who wait patiently on the Lord. Hope must be regained so that my wings may fly.

Moroni 7: 27-30

27 Wherefore, my beloved brethren, have miracles ceased because Christ hath ascended into heaven, and hath sat down on the right hand of God, to claim of the Father his rights of mercy which he hath upon the children of men?

28 For he hath answered the ends of the law, and he claimeth all those who have faith in him; and they who have faith in him will cleave unto every good thing; wherefore he advocateth the cause of the children of men; and he dwelleth eternally in the heavens.

29 And because he hath done this, my beloved brethren, have miracles ceased? Behold I say unto you, Nay; neither have angels ceased to minister unto the children of men.

30 For behold, they are subject unto him, to minister according to the word of his command, showing themselves unto them of strong faith and a firm mind in every form of godliness.

Patch

" For Your Greatest Happiness."

"Excuse me? But can I ask what you are doing?" A warm buttery voice spoke from beside a raft. "No! I am perfectly miserable, leave me alone, you, whatever!" A muffled voice whined.
"Beaver." He whistled through large front teeth. "What is your name, little chick?"
"Patch, because of all the cracks on my shell. Now be quiet or the fox will hear you!" He squawked.
The beaver climbed on top of his dam to get a better look at the shore line. There was something there but he could only see shadows through his aging eyes.
"I heard him outside the coop, growling and clawing at the dirt. The hens and chicks left to welcome Grandfather Rooster. I was all alone, exposed to the dangers of the world!"
Patch rolled onto his back and let his exposed legs flop needlessly back and forth. The beaver jumped onto the raft and sat beside him. He placed one webbed paw on the top of Patch’s shell
and stroked his left leg lovingly. He grazed the shore line with his eyes once again. Trying to
discover the shadow that paced back and forth among the tall pine trees. He sniffed the morning air searching for the foul scent of fox and smelled only the blossoming blue bells decorating the sandy beach. He cocked his head to one side in order to listen for the deep growls that would most certainly come from a hungry fox. But all he could hear were the chirping and chattering of his neighborhood friends.
"Are you sure it’s a fox?"
The beaver questioned while holding a soggy paw above his eyes to help block the bright rays of the sun.
"Yes, the hens cluck all day about them. That is why I decided to stay nestled in the safety of my little shell, forever. But then just this morning, after they all left, I knew I had to pop out my wobbly legs and run or I would be eaten by the fox that sat grunting outside. I ran until my toes touched this water. I can not swim so my feet searched out this raft and now I am bothered by a beaver."
Patch sighed deeply and shivered.
"Well, you’ve already got your feet out. Might as well pop the rest of you out too."
The beaver said while tapping lightly on the side of Patch’s pitiful shell.
"You’ll never know for sure if it is a fox if you don’t take a look at him."
Patch crinkled his eyes and shifted inside his shell.
"It was hard to break my legs through. I don’t think I am strong enough to get my head out."
The beaver gave Patch a little nudge and replied, "You’ll never know if you are strong enough until you try."
Patch twitched his feet back and forth nervously and clicked his tongue inside his beak.
"It is getting very cramped in here. I guess I can poke my head out long enough to stretch and look."
With that thought, Patch took a deep breath and balled up his shoulders. He pushed the top of his head against the cracks of the shell. It was so warn that it didn’t take much force for the little chick to pop his whole body out. He blinked several times against the new blinding light.
"What is that?"
Patch hunched over and covered his head with his wing.
"The sun, silly, look at it, feel how warm it is!"
The beaver began dancing around the little bird causing the raft to sway and Patch to loose his balance. He toppled over and found himself staring up into a big blue sky. At least he thought it was the sky, he had heard the hens talk about it before. Fluffy clouds hung low over the tops of the trees and he could hear the water of the lake lapping against the raft clearly now. As he sat up he saw a small creature jump out of the water and land with a plop. Ripples moved out from the spot and Patch followed them with his eyes till they reached the rocky shore. The shore, the fox, death! Poor Patch began to quiver.
"Time to go look at your fox lad!"
The beaver chimed as he slid into the water. He easily dislodged the raft from his dam and began pushing it to shore.
"That’s close enough!" Patch screamed.
He could see the fox now, big, red, and hungry. Pacing back and forth along the rocks of the beach.
"Are you sure?" The beaver popped his head out of the water. "I don’t think we are close enough to see him well. Let’s move in a bit more."
Patch closed his eyes and shuddered as the beaver quickly swam them both to shore. Patch heard the sound of water splashing and slogging as the beaver jumped onto the raft.
"Open you eyes little Patch and face your fox."
Patch slowly peeled each eye open one at a time and discovered they were right next to the shore. Standing at the waters edge was a large red rooster. The rooster cleared his throat with a low rumble that sounded much like the growl of Patch’s hungry fox.
"Hello Patch, I am Grandfather Rooster. Everyone is waiting for you to come join in the days activities."
Patch sheepishly looked back and forth between the beaver and the old rooster.
"I thought you were a fox come to eat me."
The old rooster gave a heart felt cluck and held out a wing, encouraging Patch to join him.
"Clearly I am not. But I am hungry so let us be off to enjoy the spoils of the day!"
The beaver gave Patch a loving pat on the back and helped him leap to shore. Patch cupped his little feathers around the old bird’s out stretched wing and gave a hopeful thank you to his new friend beaver.

Ode to Chuck Norris

http://www.chucknorrisfacts.com/

One of my favorite links to go to when I need a good laugh. I am actually not a Chuck Norris fan but I know people who are and they LOVE him. I can appreciate the martial arts discipline that Chuck has made a part of his life and I think it is great that he can provide us all with so much entertainment. Be that seriously or for our sarcastic enjoyment.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=66-o5_U-cwA

Angels

Have you ever thought about angels? As a child I use to dream of seeing an angel, especially at night when the darkness was scariest. I would pray in my little heart that an angel would come to comfort me, often times I would fall peacefully to sleep with thoughts of angelic hosts filling my mind. Other times in my life I have felt the prescence of someone near when times were hard. Whether it be my guardian angel, a family member that has passed on, a child perhaps that will someday be mine, or just the loving words of a friend so dear, angels have been a great part of my life. They do not need to be seen to be felt. And they do not need to be unseen to do their work. Angels are around us everyday, helping us to push our personal handcarts across the wildnerness we must traverse. Many angels have come in the form of a well needed hug, smile, or listening ear. While others have come into my heart and soul walking near to help bear me up when I no longer have any strength left. I believe in angels, and I hope that I can be an angel among men to help bear others burdens and lighten a friends load.

The Worst Song in the World, Research Suggests

This American Life had a sketch on two Russian artists named Komar and Melamid. They hired a market-research firm to determine the American public's likes and dislikes in music. The following conclusions were drawn:

"The most unwanted music is over 25 minutes long, veers wildly between loud and quiet sections, between fast and slow tempos, and features timbres of extremely high and low pitch, with each dichotomy presented in abrupt transition. The most unwanted orchestra was determined to be large, and features the accordion and bagpipe (which tie at 13% as the most unwanted instrument), banjo, flute, tuba, harp, organ, synthesizer (the only instrument that appears in both the most wanted and most unwanted ensembles). An operatic soprano raps and sings atonal music, advertising jingles, political slogans, and "elevator" music, and a children's choir sings jingles and holiday songs. The most unwanted subjects for lyrics are cowboys and holidays, and the most unwanted listening circumstances are involuntary exposure to commercials and elevator music. Therefore, it can be shown that if there is no covariance--someone who dislikes bagpipes is as likely to hate elevator music as someone who despises the organ, for example--fewer than 200 individuals of the world's total population would enjoy this piece."

Here is a very brief taste of this song via YouTube. You can stream the entire thing from Wired magazine via this link.

Honesty

Is it better to lie and keep it inside, when you know what you will say will cause hurt and dismay. Is silence the answer for peace or is it through words that may cut deep. We shut eachother out in order to still the surface while storms continue to rage underneath. The fear of conflict forces a hand of apathy when really what we need is honesty, humilty, and trust. True so many hearts are broken when sharp tongues are unleashed; as so do many hearts die when it is honest words we do not speak. Use prudence, yes, guidance and faith, but the Lord will not still the flood gates if we choose to remain unheard. The feelings will surface and they will flow. The force of their rupture is left in our hands. Silence is not the answer, though easy this path may be. Difficult to break through to the road of an honest heart but serenity will be yours if you choose the harder part.

Fighter

From my first breath I started this fight. Bright lights, masked faces, and unfamiliar noises. The fear is there, uncertainty surrounds. Yet, a smiling face, calming voice, and my little heart is reassured. Weeks of waiting and wondering will this surgery work? Angels ever present and comfort those who stand near. She's a fighter and will never give up that is why her life began here.I grow with bliss but school is hard. Not all understand and doubt my mind. She's dumb; she's stupid, we should leave her behind. I struggle, I cry, does no one see that I ... I am a fighter and will always try. I break free, blossom and grow. Expand my mind despite what they say. But always hearing that small nagging voice. With all that I've done why let it remain? I will continue to fight though doubt leave its tread. I want to go forth. I want to share but that is not where my path is to go. Heathenish fool, God would never say no. You must be wrong I say you must go! Am I selfish or so callus that I can't hear His voice? No, no, it's not me, my heart just may burst. You are right, they are wrong, although it causes hurt; you are a fighter and will conquer though this is just the first.But a moment passes and I am struggling through, this can't be the reason why I was to stay. It is love or possibly school. Not staring into the toilet, gazing at my food. Month one, two, three, four, I continue to fight, I want to know will I soon be gone? Or will I stay in this sad state never knowing what's wrong? A new year and this challenge continues to stay. I now know that I'm okay but the blackness remains. My body betrayed, I must learn to cope, it seems so unfair. Why must I be broken when others are whole? But help comes in very little ways; a familiar thought permeates my brain. You're a fighter and never give up, nor will you allow despair to win. Though the path before you is laced with fear, hope stands strong and courage will you bare.Love comes in strange forms, each one stretches your heart. Do I not share mine enough, no I'm afraid a little too much. Hurt and bewildered I hide it away, this is one fight I try to delay. Each time that it's challenged I feel I will loose. Self fulfilled prophecies I am sure I abuse. I learn and I grow still my heart feels the ache. Love is the greatest challenge I know I must take. I feel tossed and uncertain where I am to go. Like Peter at times I am sinking below. Then as God takes my hand His thoughts seed in my soul. The path is before you yet dark it may seem. You are a fighter, stand tall, and stand strong, let your convictions be a guide. Blessings do come when it is faith that abides.

Me and Only Me

Holiday, Holly, LeAnn, NeAnn ... I am me and can only be me.