the girl who cried sheep

  Nope. I don't wanna. Plain and simple. I do not want to go this weekend. I do not want to spend my summer there this year. Nope. But, I am. Once again I take one for the team and will be giving another part of me to something for someone else. I will be spending a summer in 90 degree weather with 100% humidity so I can put it down on a resume for a job that doesn’t exist yet. I will be giving my free time to a group of people I don't know so I can support myself in the coming year. I will be doing all of this for me and none of it for me.

  So, I pray this morning. I pray for grace. I pray for a change of heart. I pray for a new attitude. I pray I will be proved wrong. I pray for the compassion that compels Him to save us. Because that is what I need this morning, to be saved. From myself and from everyone else. I need to be saved.

  “And Jesus, when He came out, saw a great multitude and was moved by compassion for them because they were like sheep not having a shepherd.” - Mark 6:34

This morning, I am that great multitude in need of a shepherd.

limits the shade of gray

 

  I signed up for a five week beginners ski course through my University. It proved to be far more difficult than I had imagined, I peaked at my second lesson. I took the class on Monday night with the intentions to start my week off right. It would be a fun class I could use to release stress. Little did I know it would be the cause of stress. I grew to hate Monday nights. I would get nervous just thinking about it. So, on my fifth night you can imagine my elation. It was test night but it was also my final night. Somehow, I managed to make a perfect ten out of ten on my exam. My ski instructor, or “Coach” as we liked to refer to him as, invited us to try the more rigorous slopes with him. Class was officially over so it would not hurt our grade. We would go on more and more advanced slopes until we reached the black diamond. He told us we would find our limit and when we no longer felt confident we should stop. I had already found my limit on the beginners slope but somehow found my self on the ski lift next to my best friend headed to a new slope.

  My stomach was in knots. For five weeks I had watched the pros fly down this steep mountain and whiz by me and my buckling knees. “No Regrets!” She kept shouting this to me as I shook my head back and forth. We lifted the safety bar and exited the lift. Coach was ready to go and told us “to just keep doing what we had learned in class”, that “this slope is no different”. But, it sure did look a lot different from where I was standing. If you continued on the lift we just got off it would take you to the top, which would put you on a black diamond slope. So the experts who were able to conquer a black diamond would be merging onto the same slope that fell precariously in front of me. Coach and the two other girls who had been brave enough (dumb enough?) to take on this adventure were already off. I was completely unprepared but quickly followed suit more afraid of being trapped on top of the slope alone then skiing down it. And I made it! No complications! I slowed to a stop in front of my new comrades and beamed. Coach pointed to the next ski lift and headed over. I looked to my friend and explained I wasn't skilled enough for the next one.

  Apparently the fear that coarsed through my body was not obvious to everyone else because I found myself on the next ski lift just as nervous as before. This slope consisted of sharp turns and jumps. Jumps! My stomach was jumping! Once again, Coach left us in the dust as he zoomed down. I was the last one to go but found myself passing everyone. Not by choice. I was out of control. My ski poles were flying through the air as I struggled to maintain balance. The fear that had not been obvious just five minutes before was written all over my face now. I shouted apologizes as I cut other skiers off. The wind was whipping against my face and I was unable to see through the tears in my eyes. Coach quickly caught up to me and calmly instructed me on how to slow my speed, which was gaining. “Turn.” He simply said. It was what I just spent the last five weeks learning how to do and when I needed the newly acquired skill most, it completely escaped my memory. “How? HOW? I don't know how!” It was all I could say. I made to the bottom with a racing heart and stood there shocked as I waited for everyone else. Coach pointed and said, “You found your limit.”

  I had found my limit. It was obvious and I had no doubt I was not ready for the next and final slope – the taunting Black Diamond. However, finding your limit in life may not be so obvious. I knew when I had found my limit in skiing. The entire way down that awful slope I was thinking please don't kill yourself. The danger of being so out of control was very clear and very real. But when it comes to finding your limit in life, we're able to justify things. Cloud them. Color them with gray. Last week I almost let one simple mistake and lapse of judgment completely ruin my reputation and a close friendship. Things have been tough and I was doing my best to keep them in control. But, my best was not enough. The more control I tried to take, the more out of control things got. I was furious with a friend who had completely shut down on me when I did something out of my norm. I was ready to blow up on her and never look back. She calmly confronted me with a heavy heart just when I was ready to corner her. She had waited to talk to me because she needed time to pray. Pray. I hadn't even considered that. She was so hurt. So burdened. So disappointed, that she wanted to be sure she was talking to me with the right frame of mind. I found my limit. Almost at the cost of everything I loved most in life. I had covered up my limit with fancy ski gear and special goggles. Fortunately, I had someone there to take off my goggles and show me this slope was too much for me to handle. Her words hurt. But they humbled me. I saw the slope was not only too much for me, but something I never wanted. I found my limit.

the importance of importance, understood

Just in case my freshmen year at Appalachian State University wasn't cliché enough, I got my nose pierced. I guess I was trying to prove something to myself and “to world”. (Gosh, even I roll my eyes at that principle.) But still, I'm glad I did it. One of my best friends had her's done right before she came to visit and I fell in love with the concept. We both had our share of struggles growing up, hers far worse than my own. We understand each other and can relate. So when she came to visit with this new face I wanted it too. I've been thinking about it for awhile but when I saw it on someone I was so close to I knew I could do it. Then, a girl on my hall had hers done locally just a few days later and when another good friend came to visit the next day I seized the day! I called my older sister and we went to the local tattoo parlor that almost every freshmen visits within the first two semesters of college. I walked inside (with my leather coat on none the less) and strutted up to the counter proudly proclaiming “I'd like to get my nose pierced” and within ten minutes was walking back outside with a pink gem on my left nostril.

My parents would be furious, “As long as you live under our roof and we pay the bills we have a say!” I could hear it already. Their voices were racing through my mind as I sat down in my sister's car, which my parents had paid for. How had they been so quite just ten minutes before. What had my big sister let me do? She told me I was an adult and needed to make those decisions. Mom and dad would be upset but they'll get over it. Easy for her to say. Her face was pure and untainted. Except I had forgotten that the first night she spent in her apartment Sophomore year she had the pleasure of receiving a drinking ticket. My nose ring was nothing.

I wanted them to see it before I told them. The preconceived notions of those 'trashy girls' would be the only thing they would think of but, if they saw it on me they'd like it. Wrong! In the ecstasy of the moment I had paid with my debit card. The very same debit card my mom had full access to. A few weeks later at about 10:30 pm I received a text from Mom's Cell asking what Ink Link Tattoo parlor was. Of course, the text came when I was on the phone with someone and when I didn't immediately respond it was followed by “answer me now Missy”, “I'm not kidding”. My heart raced inside my chest when I saw these. My sister had also notified me “Mom knows about Ink Links”. Great. Just Great. So I called her only to be told she couldn't talk about it now she had too much on her mind, through gritted teeth I'm sure. After a few text messages of trying to explain myself there was nothing else I could do. But wait.

And wait I did. Just before the nose bomb had been dropped an even bigger and far more devastating bomb had fallen on my family. My favorite Uncle had been diagnosed with colon cancer. I know you're not supposed to have favorites, but he is. This is the uncle that would pick me up from school when I was 'too sick'. The Uncle who asks, and listens, adamantly about my classes. The father of the cousin I was best friends with growing up. The husband to my mom's twin sister. And he has cancer. The cancer has now spread and new information is being hurdled at us daily.

So when I went home to visit this past weekend, my nose ring was hardly the topic of discussion. Dad had no clue about it and said very little when he finally did notice. The focus that weekend was on the more important things in life. My aunt who was watching her husband begin a long, difficult journey. Who had a thousand and one things to figure out. My eleven year old cousin who couldn't possibly understand what was happening. My sixteen year old cousin who was my best friend growing up who was busier than ever, unable to face what was happening to her dad. And my uncle. My favorite uncle who had already lost twenty pounds after only one week. Who was tired. Who was sick.

I'm learning a lot. This pity party I've been in sole attendance of is over. I know who I am. I'm Samantha Allred, not Charlotte. I'm the niece of a sick uncle and worried aunt. I'm the cousin of a heartbroken daughter and confused son. Did I really need to get a nose ring to realize it would change nothing? I guess my parents started to realize I can make my own decisions without their consultation, but they already knew that.

It's time to focus on the important things in life. To consult God's guidance instead of my own. I've accomplished nothing of significance on my own guidance. This one is for you, Uncle Chris.

silent strength

After nineteen years of being leaned on, it's hard to stand up straight. And that's why I can't go home. But after forty-six years of being crushed, it's almost impossible to stand at all. And that's why I have to go home. How do you explain to the ones who depend on you most that you can't bare their burdens with them anymore? That you have your own and need a little understanding. A little compassion. The ones in your lives that are there for everyone else because only you can see the pain in their lives. You can't go to them because everyone else does. Because they come to you, so you have to smile and stay strong. It is exhausting and I am tired. I'm tired of silently crying myself to sleep at night. Of aching for your pains. Of pushing through the long days just to cling to the few good ones. But I must. I cannot stop. Too many people depend on me. If I stop, I admit defeat. I fail myself and I fail them. But worst of all, I fail my God. The only one who is there to bare my burdens when no one else can. The one who I run to last, but who was there first. Oh God, I cry to you! My heart bursts in anguish as hot tears stream down my broken cheeks. No words flow forth from my mouth yet my heart does utter endless woes. And you hear each one with careful consideration! You know each one before I comprehend it! Oh God, you are my saving grace once more. Like so many times before and so many times to come, you are my Savior. How I long for your comfort! How I long to escape reality and be with you always! But, I understand I cannot. I must push on with You. Deliver me, oh God. Rain mercy on me once more. Make me strong for myself and for others. Get me through this like always. Oh, how I love Jesus because He once loved me!

No Regrets, take two

Well, I am certainly nowhere closer to understanding this new and improved me/Charlotte. Not that I'm looking to reinvent myself, just find myself. Gosh. How ridiculous and cliche does that sound? The freshmen in college is looking to find herself after one semester outside of her simple country dome. That “simple country dome” is partly the reason this finding myself is such a process. I hated it, the country dome. Simple as that. It was awful and I wanted anything that wasn't it. I didn't have a country accent. Country music was awful and belonged in the trailer park. Hunting was for rednecks. Of course I was wrong about these misconceptions, along with the huge list of others I have piled up.

I do have a country accent. I just suppressed it in an effort to escape my small town. Country music was actually pretty catchy and even sweet. And hunting can provide some very yummy stew when prepared properly.

I am home for the holidays and had a wonderful coffee date with a close friend. We talked about everything from the important things happening in our lives to the not so important day to day happenings of our lives. But in these discussions I realized that everybody I knew in high school has changed in this first semester of college. I am not alone or special in this adventure. Now some people have changed in that they are who they pretended to be in high school, but others changed into who they pretended not to be. That super cool guy is really this shy sweetheart who was too afraid to ask.

I have no more a clue who I am or where I'll be in ten years anymore now than when I typed my first official blog more than a month ago. I said in it I would have no regrets yet failed to start a blog. Sounds like a regret to me. So I’m fixing that. Thanks to some unintentional encouragement from my big sister. She started a blog a few days ago and it gave me the courage to do what I've secretly been wanting to do since my first entry. Now it is not for you, the reader. (although I do hope you enjoy it, relate to it, gain from it.) No. This is for me. Charlotte. But, the me/Charlotte. I am putting myself out there for others to see. And that will come with judgments, but in every judgment comes truth. Something inclined that person to make that particular judgment. I will take from those judgments, all few and far between...i hope, and learn. Build. Find.

No Regrets

I have no idea where I'm headed, and that's okay. A few months ago I was terrified to admit this. I always wanted to take a year between high school and college and travel. To explore. How can it be expected of an 18 year old to know what school they want to go to, what major they want to take, who they want to be? It's ludicrous! And my parents, my family, they expected it. I was to graduate high school and go to college so I could get a degree and make something of myself. Education was important to them and is to me. But it's not my only importance. I have to find who I want to be and where I want to be it. So, I'm going to do just that. No regrets. None. I am not looking back in twenty years wishing. I am looking back in twenty years smiling. So here it goes - No Regrets.

I sat around the ice cream shop with my friends in the last few weeks of summer. We were dreading goodbyes but, desperate to go. I was entering into a University as a freshmen with an undecided major. I'll figure it along the way. I told this to myself and everyone else who asked, “So what do you want to be?” But what I didn't tell them was the uncertainty that loomed over me every time I said it. I took my glasses off that night at the ice cream shop and announced I was changing my name. I was getting contacts and going by Charlotte, Charlee for short. Of course, I had no true intentions of actually doing this and they knew that, but they played along. I was not Charlotte, nor would I ever be Charlotte. But I'm intrigued at who she could be. Charlotte would live with no regrets and go after it, whatever it may be. I will find my inner Charlotte and embrace her. But she'll be better than Charlotte because she'll be me. And I am living with no regrets.