Fallen trees and sagging roof tops

A few weeks ago South Jersey was slammed with a storm that, although predicted earlier in the day, still felt like it came out of nowhere. I was definitely guilty of underestimating the strength and damage high winds and heavy rain would bring. Now, weeks later there is still plenty of evidence from the storms that range from the piles of branches, chopped up logs and even homes that bore the brunt of the high winds and fallen trees.
Our neighbor directly across the street from us was on his roof chopping and removing the debris that fell on his roof within moments of the storm's end. The dude was hard core debris removal. Even with our neighborhood's power being out for a week he managed to return his yard to pre-storm status within 48 hours. Now weeks following the storm, a total contrast to that is the home directly behind us where a tree still lies on top of the house and it seems every day the roof and damage to the home becomes a little more extensive. Had they taken the proper measures to remove the tree, although costly, it would have saved their home from further damage.

But it's funny how in our own lives it sometimes can feel so much easier to procrastinate or avoid dealing with the fallen trees and sagging roof tops that life can sometimes throw at us. Reality can sting and although we may think closing our eyes to the heart ache involved in the loss of a loved one, the battle faced with addiction, the rawness of dealing with an illness, being jobless or the constant pains involved with depression or anxiety these pains exist. The truth is that all forms of these fallen trees hurt and even though we may see those around us struggling with these challenges, it isn't until we have our own high winds and sagging roofs that we must choose how we deal. It isn't easy.
I remember the very first time that I lost someone I cared about to addiction. It was my junior year of high school. It was someone I had known since middle school and although we were not directly in the same social circle, we shared a few classes together and were more than just simply acquaintances. He was an awesome guy. He was super laid back, personable and one of those people who everyone liked. He also partied his face off. The partying escalated as he progressed into senior year of high school. One day before a class we had together started I attempted to make an effort in expressing how worried I was about him. He was in over his head, looked like a train wreck every day and he was missing school more frequently. He leaned over and very matter of factly told me to mind my own business. I shut my mouth and never spoke up about it again. Less than three months later he was dead. He overdosed. Heroin claimed his life.
As a seventeen year old kid it rocked me to the core. I remember driving in my car, ending up sitting on the beach and just sobbing. I never really spoke to anyone about it. For years part of me felt almost guilty that my lack of action contributed to his death. I beat myself up about it for a long time and I believe it had a part in an unhealthy desire to almost 'save' people for years after that along with keeping a trust buffer amongst friends out of fear of losing someone.
It wasn't until my mid-twenties that I forgave myself and really began to work on removing the branch that lie so heavily on the roof of my heart. It was beating the heck out of me.
Each of us will face challenges, heart ache and struggles that are our own. How we deal and choose to face these is up to us. I released myself from a guilt that was crippling and asked God for the strength, peace and direction with a situation that was out of my own hands. It renewed me and transformed how I moved forward in both my outlook on life and future relationships.
Fallen trees, broken limbs and sagging roof tops can be overwhelming, but the reality is that we are not alone. God's grace, mercy and peace has the ability to make even the most weakened roof and uprooted tree so much less heavy and broken than it is. God is good, faithful and so very awesome even in the most tumultuous of storms. 

Home of the free

     I'm proud to be an American. I am beyond grateful to have been born in a country brimming with opportunity and freedoms that are part of our every day rituals that we so easily take for granted. We possess freedoms that we can easily feel entitled to and not connect that these gifts are possible because of the men and women over the course of our nation's history. After all, freedom is not free.
   

 

In school I pledged to the flag daily without hesitation and wore and there was a flag hanging from my home as the fourth rolled around every year. It wasn't until my feet walked on soil across the globe that I had any concept of how truly free and able we are. 

Example 1: A million choices that are not a choice elsewhere 

The summer before my junior year of college I spent time in Minsk, Belarus. It was my very first time overseas and as a nineteen year old kid in college who was just stoked to be on an adventure it shattered my view of life in every way possible. My world was turned upside down. From armed guards greeting us at the dilapidated airport to the lingering effects of Chernobyl present in young and   

old, it was a far cry from Main Street USA. What still resonates within me, years later, was my first trip to the grocery store. When I inquired to a friend who had accompanied me there about the empty racks where milk should be and the obvious lack of variety and choice of bread, cookies or cereal they responded, "this is what's on our shelves and what we have to choose from. When the milk runs out it remains that way until the next delivery." There was not 25 types of bread or 132 choices of cereal. The first time I went shopping after returning home I cried, partially out of gratitude and partially out of disgust at how much we have that is both wasted and expected. 

Example 2: The ability to be who you are 

After working and traveling through Israel I hopped the border into the Sinai before heading via bus to Cairo. I stayed in a hut owned by a Swiss couple that was much more Westernized than the surrounding villages. After getting settled I made my way into town by food wearing long linen top and a flowing skirt where only my feet, hands and a section of my face were visible. While abroad I do my best to respect the cultural practices and, naively, I believed that my attire was appropriate. I walked into town half to explore and the other to capture a few candid pictures of an area laden with political and religious unrest. As I made my way into a small shop for a bottle of water it became quickly apparent that all eyes were on me. Men and women literally stopped and observed my every move. Before making it to the register I heard, "whore" from the aisle next to me and as my eyes met the man closest to me there was disdain that made my stomach turn. With every step I made you could have heard a pin drop. The silence was deafening. I returned to the Westernized haven unscathed, but I was unnerved. My dress was unsuitable in the area I was in. As a woman it was not acceptable to walk freely, not fully covered in this area of the world. There was no chatting about the importance of women's equality in this situation and in that moment I became so very grateful to be a women born in the United States entitled to a voice, to dress as in a way that I choose and to have the simple freedom of walking into a store without fear for out lash regarding my appearance. 

We are in a country with great freedom and opportunities that should not be taken for granted. Thank those who have served or are presently serving because our freedoms have come with great cost and allow our county to be as great as it is.