And The Waters Rose

"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads."

Such a fun story we tell during Christmas time. It's the season we all look forward to. Stories of family shenanigans are told as the patriarch cuts the ham or turkey. We laugh and usually keep a dry eye. 

But we live in Southeast Louisiana and Christmas isn't the time of year for story telling. Our stories come from the summers where we fear hurricanes and floods. Sometimes we laugh at how incredulous the situation we were in was. Sometimes we shed a tear as we remember coming home from an evacuation and seeing a line left by water above our doorknobs or from seeing boats and cars flipped over in the middle of the road. Our anxiety rises every August and September as hurricane season peaks and we wait for the dreaded news that a new system has or is forming in the Gulf and we wait with anticipation for its name. 

7 years ago the Lord told me to go to Baton Rouge. I would go to school and develop who I was and the love and experiences I had there would influence who I was to become when I moved back home to New Orleans. I fell in love with Baton Rouge. That city enveloped my heart and infused itself into my soul. 

Now I have to watch it flood. I have to try and contact my best friends daily to see if they're standing or swimming. It's terrifying. 

Unlike Katrina and other hurricanes, this time we didn't have notice. We usually can watch and wait to see what will happen, but a serious low pressure system sat about my heart city and dumped over 20" of water in less than 48 hours causing all the rivers near by and in surrounding cities to rise quickly past their flood stage and out into the cities, neighborhoods, streets, businesses...everything. 

It was like Katrina part two, but sudden and unexpected. This flooding has brought back so many memories and anxiety for those of us who experienced Katrina. 

During any severe flooding crisis, we lose touch with family members and loved ones. Cell phones were just emerging in 2005 for Katrina and every now and then a text would go through and we'd know someone we cared about was okay. Today it's the same thing, but nothing is going through. Thankfully wi-fi is a thing now and Facebook is a new communication for us. 

Every time I see the pictures of the waters surrounded my old stomping grounds of my heart city, my eyes burn and my heart aches. Every time a friend posts a picture of the water coming into their house or of floating furniture, my gut clenches. All the same feelings I felt as I got an email from a friend letting me know they were okay in 2005. 

During Katrina, we didn't have any of this. The not knowing was the worst part, and today knowing is the worst part. 

Living in Southeast Louisiana is usually full of laughter, snowballs, good food, late nights, and friends we haven't met yet. 

I can't explain to those that have not experienced a hurricane like Katrina why every time I see pictures of my heart city I fight back tears. Sure this isn't our first rodeo, but that doesn't make this any easier. Water is a beautiful power we have here on earth. It can heal and it provides sustenance for all life. But then it can always wash away roads in a matter of minutes, infiltrate homes and mold sheet rock one inch of water at a time causing massive damage to homes. Not just houses, homes. 

Pray for Baton Rouge. Pray for all the people that have to do this again but in a city they had moved to to escape devastation from in the first place eleven years ago. Pray for the first time home owners and the newly weds that will lose their wedding memorabilia because the water came in and they tried to put it on top the stove but the water kept rising. Pray for the people stuck on the roads and spending the time in their cars waiting for rescue because there's water in every direction. Pray for the waters to recede. Pray for a few days without any rain. Pray. Just pray. 

It's like our hearts wither as the water rises. We are helpless, yet not hopeless. Keep praying. Keep believing. We did it once with the help of our dear Baton Rouge, and New Orleans will help Baton Rouge to have hope and believe. We will rebuild. 

I Overcame Temptation

Today I decided to fast. It went so well that now I'm planning on trying to do it once a week.

I did a lot of research and it's a really helpful thing for people with insulin resistance (which I have)!  Having IR makes it super difficult to lose weight and super easy to gain weight...the bad kind (fat). My body is literally biologically engineered to gain fat. So finding out intermittent fasting could HELP me become more insulin sensitive and lose weight more like a normal person was so incredible!  I didn't have expectations but the Lord started blowing me away with this first glance of the tip of the ice burg.

It taught me how bad of a habit I have to eat first think later and how codependent I am on food. At my office, people wanting to get in good with the doctors bring treats. Yesterday, panera bread pastry ring, dunkin donuts, and cake balls. WHAT?! Well I gave in....a couple times. I felt some unidentified twinge in my gut. That twinge was later on identified as the Holy Spirit. Straight up conviction. Not to get too holy rolling here...but I didn't feel guilt. I didnt feel shame...I didnt even feel excitement for the indulgence. But as I finally spoke to God again after another binge on sliders and fries with a sprinkle of justification, He told me that hesitation I felt was His conviction and I had to start practicing discipline in order to begin overcoming temptation. Yes, you can say it, "ouch!" Holy smack. So I began the fast.

I found out I eat because of time not hunger. Hunger has been the enemy for so long...and today showed me it doesn't have to be. It might not be a friend but it's like an assistant. Dependable, reliable, consistent....and I prayed through some of it too.

When I came home I ate a small portion of spaghetti, peas, and a cupcake. Not a single twinge of guilt or shame. I had the urge (still do) to continue to eat. But I asked God to make the food I ate satisfying. To make the cupcake just enough (probably way more than needed) sugar to satisfy me. To make the spaghetti provisional as opposed to just tastey. And to make the peas filling. And everything was extra delicious. I could taste all the spices and flavors...that's probably just because I was super hungry

But the craziest thing is, I didn't feel a bit  different at the end of the day. I was hungry, my head hurt, and I was tired. Which just tells me there's something wrong with what I'm putting in my body if it feels the same when I don't put anything in.

C.S. Lewis in "Mere Christianity" tells us that Christ is the only person to have overcome temptation 100% of the time, but that you only know how hard temptation is to overcome once you've overcome it. I don't know that I've ever overcome it. That I've ever been completely faithful to a diet, a change,  or to that twinge of conviction. But today I did. I let God back in just a little and He did something I never thought I could do.

It's like I won today. It's like we won today. I beat temptation today. And that is the biggest step I have ever taken.

I used to be top dog at planning and friend making.

If you knew me I knew at least 3 or 4 of your closest friends and maybe even family members.

So what happened when I moved home?

I was cut off from my community. I was put into a city where the people I had known had moved on and I was left cuddling with my cat and netflix every night. 

I honestly thought it would be easy as pie to make new friends. I told everyone when I left it would be fine and I wasn't worried about it. Find a church. Get plugged in. Make friends.

Well, life isn't so kind some times and sometimes you go a year and a half still with only a few friends....and those are either leaving or in the same boat as you.

So what's a girl to do? I've cried about it and I've cried about it to people! But other than flat out begging to be invited SOME WHERE just once....I'm still stuck with netflix and my cat.

I feel lonely and defeated. I love my family and my cat...but I NEED people. I attend 1-3 small groups a week, but that's hardly the companionship I'm yearning for.

I think I finally found my hallelujah

I was asked why I write tonight. My only real thought for a reason is mostly because I want to.

But then I thought deeper. Why do I write? What makes that a want? Well, simply put it's not a want.

It's a need.

My soul, created by the One most high, was created to write! It was created to thrive on a blank white page that fills up with words that flow from me. It's as natural as bleeding...well blood flow.

When I write it feels like my soul floods the page..or screen whatever! I am no longer tormented by anxieties of the day, anxieties of tomorrow, or anxieties of the past.

When I write the world disappears, the smile spreading across my face exempt. In fact I'm shocked that no one has come to me yet while I was writing to ask just exactly gave me so much joy.

Talking about writing energizes and fuels me. Words, how they play together and sound like music as each key is plucked (so to speak) quickly.

I lift from gravity when I write. The earth holds no bounds on me. I can make everything I'd like up or create something of epic proportions from a simple story of my life.

The One Most High has given me a gift, a life giving gift! It not only provides me great life but also those around me.

I've been told about my encouraging words which are the result of simple honesty and a burning passion that consumes me until it's allowed to burn.

The gifts of the Church are to edify the body.

Why do I keep this gift wrapped? It waits disruptive under the Gift tree like a puppy wrapped in a box. It moves, it jumps, it howls in anticipation before it can be released!

Then, when I finally allow the gift out, I am welcomed with excitement and loving kisses of gratitude.

This isn't just a "why I want to write" or what might motivate me, it's something I cannot walk away from and for some reason I've been allowing this gift to grow inside it's box where it is limited.

It's time to stop walking and start running to the direction of my true love!

As a popular song on the radio says, "I think I finally found my hallelujah!"

That's all I want to scream write now (get it?), is HALLELUJAH! I will be freed from the torment of the unknown and from the chains of caution that risk binds me with.

All that said, I've begun a freelance writing class.

It won't interfere with daily life. It will motivate and help me become a better me than I could have ever dreamed possible.

A freer me. A more loving me. A more passionate me.

Hallelujah!

Food

Food.

It's like I can't stop. I eat it and eat it. i know what's bad for me, but everything that is bad I crave as soon as I sit down.

It's here. It's good and I feel like I need it. I haven't spoken about it with anyone in years because my bitch of a sister decided that she had the same "eating disorder" as myself and when I wanted to talk about myself for once, I was told I minimized her problems. But instead she minimized mine and took away my voice with it.

Since then I've been ashamed or scared to talk about it.

I think about food and weight on a constant basis. I try to talk myself out of the anxiety that goes with it, but it never works. Not entirely anyway.

I always feel like I should just work out. That will make it better. But I feel like if I work out and I'm not sore, it wasn't worth it. Then I hurt myself. And if I can't work out what's the point?

It just irritates me. I need to talk about this.

I need to figure out how to do this with god. I need to know how to glorify him with my body. And my confidence isn't the only way I need to honor him with my body.

But is do it for god enough? It should be. It REALLY should be.

I've given it to god over and over again. But...I always take it back. Why?

My Identity

the thing i love about writing is the exact same thing i hate about it.

writing gives me an outlet to bare my soul. to become naked with myself, god, and others.

it’s the most freeing thing i’ve ever experienced but also the most binding and terrifying thing.

but no matter how terrifying it is, i love it all the same.

just like a painter stares at their blank canvas until the first drop of paint is forced onto the white space, i stare at a blank page with a cursor blinking up at me until i can come up with the write words in order to paint the picture for my readers.

do i even have readers? goodness! what another terrifying thought. is this the right word? does this even make sense to anyone?

jeez. i just can’t even. i’m  a white girl now..and always..but especially now as i think how I can’t even do this. How am I supposed to become a writer and do this full time? How? Oh that’s right. there’s that little class thing that i just haven’t taken yet. I always have the best excuse for not paying $50 for the class but i can buy a $50 bag?! what is wrong with me.

I’m scared. that is what is wrong. But who am I failing? anyone but myself? no. i am not failing god, my mom, my teachers. i’m not failing anyone. not even myself because if I’m trying to actually achieve something and following my heart and dreams, then how am i failing?

the only sure way to fail is to not write.

someone told me being a writer did not identify me. oh how hard that was to hear! to be reminded and thrown back to earth...my identity can only come from one place....from one person and being. if it doesn’t come from him then i will find disappointment instead of fulfillment. GAH!

how real is that!? i hate that! see, the past couple years i’ve allowed myself to really enjoy who i am and a HUGE part of that is embracing that i love to write. i used to worry that it made me too geeky and complicated or that if people didn’t read what i wrote then i was no good and there was no point.

BUT THERE IS A POINT! the point is this is my passion. i love to write. even the feel of the keys pressing underneath my fingers, the accuracy in how i type, all of it just gives me a great thrill.

why do i feel like i have to wait for the muse to whisper into my soul?! the timing will always be wrong. i won’t always be able to find the PERFECT coffee shop with just the right atmosphere. i said i was going to pursue this. and so i am.

i will take that writing class...which is more of a “how to freelance” class.. but that’s okay and it’s a step in the right direction. (SO badly wanted to say “the write direction” just now. too much, yall.)

I don’t know how to make a blog boom. I don’t know how to make myself sit down and do good things, like write. I don’t know how to not go blank when I force myself to write.

But this happened, and this one isn’t so bad.

Guess I’ll have to keep going. Everyday. Try to write new things. Interview people. Jump off a bridge and write about it! i don’t know.

I’m just going forward here.

Here’s to God for giving me a gift that I love. As long as I remember that this isn’t my identity.

The Grass is Greener on the West Bank

It's truly amazing when perspective changes.

I've been working at a private practice medical office for almost 6 months now. I started when another girl a little older than myself was working too. She told me that it wasn't a great place to work because it was so negative.

Well I had resolved to stay positive. I'm one of the most positive people I know and I can put up with a lot. I AM the customer service representative! And I rock my job.

After about 1 month I was broken. I no longer knew if I was capable of keeping my attitude up. The office seemed to have turned against me. My friend and coworker that trained me and was kind, was leaving and going to a new office...with -let's say- incentives. She was going off to be happy. At the same time I came under fire with my other coworkers and the senior doctor. Everything was happening at once.

Then I was on my own. Just me in a little canoe paddling to try and beat the current. Suddenly I was awesome and everyone praised me for it.

I was exhausted, but doing it. Sometimes having more than one hundred patients in a day, I was doing it.

Then I finally, after a month and a half, got help and was able to take a deep breath and relax. This place wasn't too bad. I had someone to laugh with now and talk with throughout the day. Not to mention that I had help! I could slow down. Go day to day instead of week by week. This was gonna be great.

For a while, I really started to settle down with it. My anxiety with having everything done slowly faded away. We just dealt with our normal hostile patients when they came in and a wishy washy doctor that wasn't always so pleasant. My other coworkers complained about working there and I occasionally joined them. No big deal, this was normal.

People complain about their jobs and bosses. There's always awful customers to deal with. This is a job not a field trip.

Today I was asked to work in another location. I've heard mysterious rumors that this place was calm and the patients were super kind. But I never thought it would be as a drastic difference as I found it to be.

First of all, it's not a building that you walk into. The office is in a hospital so it's set up like a normal doctor office. Nurse's station in the back. Bunch of empty clean rooms. And a smallish waiting area.

Well, the first person came on time instead of 30 minutes before the doctor even showed up.

Then I sensed trouble when a man came in and his insurance had changed to something we don't accept. Was he awful and rude about it? No, he was understanding and didn't pitch this huge fit like others have done in my original office. I'm sure they do pitch fits here, but my first experience shocked me.

Then another nice lady came in and gave us recipes for some crawfish soup with a lovely note attached.

And every phone I answered, no one chewed me out for not being competent or not having an appointment for them RIGHT NOW or when it's convenient for them.

No one told me I was bad at my job. No one throw a fit in the waiting area. No one didn't want to pay their copay (well at least no one throw a tantrum over it going up). Everyone was patient and kind for the most part.

And I got to do what I needed to get done. If that meant call all the people for upcoming appointments, I got to do it. if I worked here long term, I'd be able to prepare for the next day without stressing that I didn't start the day or two before.

Don't get me wrong, I know they must have issues. The nurse hovers like a micromanager. They might not always have supplies or something. I don't know.

With all that being said, I hadhad no idea the environment I am in was so bad until I was out of it. I think this applies to so many areas of our lives. From relationships to work to driving over a rickety bridge!

We tell ourselves sometimes that this is all we deserve or this is as good as it gets. But that is NOT true. I deserve respect and appreciation, whether or not it's given is a different story. I deserve to work in an environment that allows me thrive instead of shrivel.

But it's more than thinking you deserve that, because maybe we don't. This is about knowing that there's hope and things can improve!

Today was good and bad for me. I don't think I'll ever want to get out of bed for the original office again, but I'm also hopeful that there's a better job somewhere for me. One with positive energy and where people want to be at work!

I can only pray it happens sooner rather than later.

Passion and Purpose

I’ve considered myself a writer for quite a while now. I’ve managed a simple blog since probably 2010. For someone in their younger twenties, I’d say that’s a pretty good run. I may not have been the best at continuing to update it weekly, bi-weekly, or even once a month, but when I did post something it was heartfelt and real.

I’ve always been overly open and honest, at least with my blog and with the small audience I had.

And now I should continue with my honesty.

I am going to start writing every day. 500 words per day. It sounds like such a small amount, and it really is. But when writer’s block creeps in, it can be debilitating looking at the blank page and the cursor that just blinks back at me.

My writer’s block is not just unable to think of something to write, it’s the fear of something being horribly written or loving it too much and not having anyone to rejoice with me about whatever adventure I am writing about.

But now I’m moving through that to something more. I’m embracing a challenge. 500 words per day. Even if I write “500 words a day” over and over, or just ramble about my life.

I can do this. It’s small.

A month or so ago, my pastor taught on finding your purpose and passion in life. I only feel fulfilled when I write or after I finish writing. It’s a small consolation to living life sometimes, but it’s always freeing. I feel like this is something I can do to glorify the Lord because I’m doing it because it’s what He made me to do.

Soon I’ll be moving to something other than just Christian focused writing, but I don’t think that means I won’t be glorifying him. Just doing what He wants me to and what He has created me to do.

Sounds great, but also terrifying. My heart clenches just thinking about it.

I have to move past this, though. This fear of not being able to do it. This fear of not being able to commit to something beautiful. I want this to be my year of commitment.

Commitment to writing, passions, purpose.

Isaiah 43 tells me that I should forget the past because God is doing something new in my life. Something that is healthy and will grow. And to cross reference Jeremiah 17, I’m going to plant myself by the River of Life and grow. I am looking forward. And possibly rambling. But I am used to writing just to write.

Well, this is me trying to sign off but also trying to reach the goal of 500 words.

I wish there was a beautiful quote I could end with. The only thing I can really think of is something I’ve been saying since the new year started. It’s not from a book or any famous person, just me and my own musings.

Take tomorrow’s risks today.

--Maggie Mae

A New and Exciting Adventure

I have some exciting and potentially terrifying news that I would like to share with you.

My resolutions for this year are simple. Obviously there's the "lose weight" one and the "watch less TV" one, but this year there's one more that I don't know I've ever decided to do and follow through on.

I'm going to pursue writing and photography with the hopes of creating a career.

GASP! No really, I'm going to try this whole thing out. I've had people tell me since I was a child how creative I am, how well I write, and how good I am with a camera.

Now, I know that it won't come with just talent. I will have to work at it. Learn constantly about the world of cameras, writing, photography, how to build up my skills and create what will essentially be a business.

Let me be very clear right now, I have no idea what I am doing.

All I know is that I love writing, and photography might be one of the best creative outlets I've ever experienced. More than that, I know that God has given me this as a way of sanity and love and excitement and something to truly experience Him through.

I've been miserable and bored for too long and now I'm ready to celebrate.

Can I remain really honest here? I'm petrified of this new step. My history of not following through with big events/ideas is very prevalent in my mind, and more than that, I'm afraid that the blogs I love won't be consistent. Will I love each and every one that I write?

But then I hear that still, small voice saying it doesn't matter. All I need to do is follow my passions and see where I end up. I have a feeling that even if this doesn't pan into a career, it will pan into something great, full of adventures and joy.

With all that, I'll be working on the new blog and photography site over the next month. Look for it's launch at the beginning of February.

EEK! That's real. And I'm telling people about it! That means I have to follow through, right?!

Anyway, join me on this adventure and I will gladly keep you updated. Pray Isaiah 43:18-19 with me as I trudge onward in this race.
Isaiah 43:18-19
Forget the former things;
    do not dwell on the past.
19 See, I am doing a new thing!
    Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
    and streams in the wasteland.

May God get all the glory.

Much love,
Maggie Mae