I come from a large family. Both my parents come from large families. I'm the youngest of 6 girls. My dad is the 5th of 9 children. My mom is the eldest of 8. That means I have a lot of cousins. I mean A LOT. I think my dad and I counted once and putting both my mom's and dad's sides together, I have somewhere around 70 cousins. Yep. I know. It's crazy. What can I say? Mormons usually seem to have lots of kids. Fertility is commonly genetic. There you have it.
Where am I going with this? Because of the nature of being part a 2 extremely large families, I've been to a lot of funerals over the years. My Grandfather Waddell passed away when I was in 6th grade- the first grandparent I lost. I've been to funerals for uncles, aunts, grandparents, friends, etc. So far this year, I've attended 4 funerals. 2 were for uncles who lived full and abundant lives into old age. 2 were for young fathers who each left a wife and small children behind. The latter 2 I mentioned have awaken a fear that's been my worst ever since my husband and I devoted ourselves to each other when we got married; what if he dies while our children are still at home and I'm left to be a single mom? It's really hard not to let that eat at me, let my imagination run wild, and be crippled by fear. Maybe it sounds ridiculous. I can be pretty ridiculous at times. But oh well.
Death is hard for those left behind. It's so, well, final. I have no idea what it's like for those who have passed on. No one has come back to enlighten me. My own father has been gone from this life over 11 years now. Is he gone? No. I feel him close quite often and know he's watching over me, my sisters, and my mom his sweetheart.
So what about those funerals? My Uncle LeMoyne was rough around the edges in his youth and over time he changed. He learned temperance, love, forgiveness. He was a highly-decorated Vietnam veteran. My Uncle Fred was what some might call eccentric, but he owned it. He was a fantastic musician, loved trinkets, and was big in to adventures. The husband of Tyler's cousin lit up all around him, was always helping someone, and loved his wife and children like no other. Tyler's high school friend was naturally happy, made his business (literally) to help others change for the better, and was determined to make the world a better place. Since none of us know when our time is up, all of this got me thinking: what are people going to say at my funeral (not that I'm planning on expiring any time soon)? Do I love as much as I'm capable of? Am I changing for the better- at least most of the time? Do I make it a priority to do what I love and do it often? Do I invite happiness in others? Am I service-oriented?
The one theme I noticed was each man knew what mattered and lived accordingly. Each man also was true to himself and let his individuality shine. The thing I love the most about this is that their priorities were the same: faith and family. I remember reading where C. S. Lewis talked about how Christianity makes a person more their true self. He compared it to salt. With salt broccoli tastes more like broccoli, a potato more like a potato, roast beef more like roast beef (yummers). And so it is with us. When we put Christ at the center of our lives we slowly become more of our true selves. I know, sounds a little contradictory, right? Well, the 4 men whose funerals I attended prove otherwise. Besides, I've witnessed it in countless other cases. I see it in myself, friends, family.
Self is probably the most elusive of said cases. Sometimes it's hard to feel original and important in a sea of billions of people on the earth. It becomes easy to wonder: does my life matter, can I really make a difference?
A million years ago I saw a little video clip of Steven R. Covey talking about priorities. He had a rather large jar (probably about 2 gallons), a bunch of rocks, pebbles, small stones, and sand. He claimed it all fit in said jar. It looked a little sketchy. I think he asked the audience what he should put in first. I don't recall the order specifically, but I think the sand was put in first, followed by the other geological items. They didn't fit. Then he did his magic, but order mattered. The largest rocks had to be put in first, followed by the small stones, then pebbles, and then the sand filled in the nooks and crannies (kinda like ice cream after a large meal). He then compared the jar to the amount of time we have and the rocks, stones, and sand to thing we do. If we don't put the largest ones in first, the rest won't fit. It's the same with priorities. We have to put 1st things 1st. Sounds pretty rudimentary, right? Well, I've tried to put the sand in my jar first countless times and of course it always fails. I keep thinking "This time will be different." Um, anyone recalling the definition of insanity? Yep, that's right.
What are those bigger rocks? I think they're things like faith, family, and personal care. I'm sure some of them are a little more individual than that. The fun part: the smaller stuff is where our personalities can really shine. They are different colors, shapes, designs. Each jar can be like those super cool colorful sand jars, but with different sized and colored rocks, jewels, stones, etc. The trick is that if those 1st things aren't put in 1st, the rest doesn't all fit. The fullness of our true selves doesn't get to shine.
The struggle I have is with the monotony of the larger rocks. I know they're crucial, but they're not always very fun. I don't always have an awakening when I read my scriptures. Every prayer doesn't result in a life-changing revelation. Getting my boys breakfast, dinner, doing laundry, getting them to school and such are especially monotonous. Nor are Tyler and I aren't madly in love with each other every second. So why bother? Well, when it comes to laundry I keep asking Tyler when we're moving to a nudist colony, but he hasn't found one for us yet. Still waiting on that, I guess.
I wish knew all of why these larger rocks can be so boring and tedious. Perhaps that's a question for my Maker (my 2 big ones for when we meet are 1. Why are some people fertile and others aren't, and 2. What's up with entropy- why?). Like most moms I want my Alice (think "The Brady Bunch") but I don't want to pay for her, not to mention the fact that she's not real. I get tired of cleaning up dinner bombs in the kitchen- especially when it comes to the wake of the toddler in the house, rushing to be on time for church, finding time for pondering on the Word, making lunches, meal planning, and so on. I could go on for pages, but I'll refrain.
Right now I think I'll go swim some laps. It's Saturday morning and since I can't be out on a long run, I'll go swim back and forth in some water and chemicals. That's close to the same thing, right? Perhaps another day I'll touch on the mental anguish that is my running injury. Let's just say I'm at least moving in the right direction, but painstakingly slow. Patience and I aren't really friends. It makes things a little difficult. For now, I'll go get wet and enjoy the Thomas the Tank Engine that my Benjamin has transformed into. Costumes are amazing like that.
Saturday, October 8, 2016
Friday, September 9, 2016
The Two-Edged Sword
I went and got a haircut yesterday. No, I did not do anythings dramatic to my hair. But like you really care about that. My dear friend, who I drive 30 minutes one-way to have cut my hair, asked how things were going. I usually only have her do my hair 2 or 3 times a year so we always have a lot to catch up on. I told her about my dumb SI joint that's causing me pain, about Tyler's new job as a parole agent and how he's currently in the police academy for it. I told her some of the things I'm learning these days. Blah, blah, blah. Typical girl talk stuff. She asked me how I'm managing. I really didn't have any answer for her. Um, do any of us ever feel like we're actually successfully dealing with our lives? Sure, I have moments when I think, "Wow! I've really got it together." That happened yesterday morning. It was all shattered by about 8:15 am. Yep, that's how that usually goes. Maybe I'm the only one, but I'm kinda thinking that if anyone thinks they actually have it all together, they be a lying to themselves, or need to wait a little while. It's kinda like Utah weather. If you don't like it, wait 10 minutes.
My point: crap happens to us all. Sure, we could throw our hands in the air and give up. I personally have too much fire in my soul for that. Giving up isn't really in my DNA. My maiden name is Waddell. I come from a line of overly stubborn farmers who helped settle the Teton Valley. My mother's maiden name is Stevens. Again, a geneology of fighters. Both sides of my family have pioneer stock. Um these people did not back down. Then again, you look back 150+ years and most everyone was that way. What other choice did they have? What happened to our generation? I dunno, but that's a conversation for another day.
The way I see it, the unpleasantries that happen to us can be opportunities. Yeah, I know, you've heard that before and if you're like me, you usually want to crawl into a hole and not exist for a while when seriously hard things hit the fan hoping they'll disappear. It wasn't too long ago that I looked at my life and seriously didn't believe I had what it took to live it and come out on top. I wanted to run away and literally not exist anymore. I knew my life was OK and that it was full of so many wonderful things, despite Derek's leukemia, but I didn't like myself in it. I felt like I just kept botching it up, like I couldn't get it together, like everything was going to break because I kept failing.
First of all, I wasn't failing, but my perfectionism didn't let me see it that way. Second, the whole saying of what doesn't kill you makes you stronger began to mean a whole lot more. I kept surviving day after day, month after month. Crazy. Third, that second thing is true because of Jesus Christ. He paid the ultimate price and part of his infinite sacrifice includes something called Grace. It's divine assistance given when we, as humans, don't have the capacity to do what our lives require. In the period of my life I just mentioned, when I thought my life would fall apart at the seams, I sure didn't have what it took, of myself, to do all that was required. But everything worked out and moved on because of Grace. We get to try again tomorrow because of Grace. Second and thirty-second chances are because of Grace.
Ok, back to Life's crap being an opportunity... We all have a choice to let God in or not. He will never force us. He gave us agency. Why would He mess with it? He doesn't. If we choose to let God in, especially during times of upheaval, we feel His love, His comfort, His help. His love is perfect and can heal all. I've felt it time and time again. I felt it when my father passed away all-of-a-sudden, when my own emotions were so raw and my whole system was in shock. I felt it the day before we found out Derek has leukemia because God knew I would need an extra dose due to what was about to go down. I feel it when I look at my darling children (I'm not talking about the moments when I want to sell them to the gypsies). I feel it when I read His word, go to church, etc.
Another time I feel that love is when I serve others. Is it hard to reach out when your own life feels so outta control? Um, A LOT- at least for me. But our trials give us the maximum opportunity to develop that perfect Christlike love. Yes, we feel it as we struggle coming directly from Him, but there's another avenue: outward.
Every time I hear of someone's father dying there's a part of me that aches and mourns and weeps for them. I know how much I still miss my own father, how I long to talk to him, hug him, watch him play with my children. I cannot describe how that all hurts, still, after 11 years. Is he where he needs to be? Yes. Will I see him again? I'm 100% sure. I still miss him though. That's why I feel the way I do when I know of someone else who has recently lost their father. I "get it." Is my life identical to theirs? No, duh. But I have a new level of compassion. I wouldn't have that if I hadn't been through my own father passing.
That's where the other avenue of Christ's love comes in. In the Garden of Gethsemane He suffered for our sins, and everything else. He literally felt all that we have ever felt or will feel. He really does "get it" as if he really were you and me. So, when we have been through something similar to that of someone else, we can feel a new love and compassion for that person. We know better how to comfort them. We have a better idea of what to say, what to do, etc. We are given challenges in life to provide such opportunities, to develop charity: the pure love of Christ.
I don't know about anyone else, but in my efforts to turn the lemons of my life into refreshing lemonade, I make lots and lots of messes. I yell at my kids, I over-react to things, I get a certain degree of road rage, my husband drives me crazy, I get extremely frustrated with myself. Guess what? I'm finding that most of us do. And it's okay. It's just like learning music or a sport, or anything else: keep practicing. When you see someone at their worst, keep in mind they're in practice mode too. When you're the one in the vulnerable state having a messy day and others see it, don't be afraid. Own it. I think we could do a lot less pretending we've got it together (or thinking everyone else does), and a lot more opening up to others- listening to someone in need, smiling and encouraging the mother in the supermarket whose child is throwing a tantrum, not judging the woman who is picking up her kid from school in her PJs, and not worrying about what others might think. It's not worth it! Life is too short for such nonsense, and yet, here we find ourselves time and time again stuck in such ruts. At least I do. Someone please tell me I'm not the only one with lemon juice, sugar, water, and lemon zest all over my kitchen. And if I am, oh well. The cat is out of the bag now. Oh wait, I don't like cats. Too late.
One more thing: my SI joint (where your tailbone connects to your hip bone- sing the song if you'd like). It moves too much because my most inner abdominal muscle is significantly weaker than the 3 more superficial ab muscles. Yeah I know you really wanted to know that, not really. It's got me thinking: what's the soft under belly that needs strengthening metaphorically? My conclusion: gratitude. Gratitude is a catalyst that leads to all other virtues. It leads to faith, obedience to God, hope, love, true conversion, etc. Anywho, that's some cud I'm still chewing on a lot.
Tally ho!
My point: crap happens to us all. Sure, we could throw our hands in the air and give up. I personally have too much fire in my soul for that. Giving up isn't really in my DNA. My maiden name is Waddell. I come from a line of overly stubborn farmers who helped settle the Teton Valley. My mother's maiden name is Stevens. Again, a geneology of fighters. Both sides of my family have pioneer stock. Um these people did not back down. Then again, you look back 150+ years and most everyone was that way. What other choice did they have? What happened to our generation? I dunno, but that's a conversation for another day.
The way I see it, the unpleasantries that happen to us can be opportunities. Yeah, I know, you've heard that before and if you're like me, you usually want to crawl into a hole and not exist for a while when seriously hard things hit the fan hoping they'll disappear. It wasn't too long ago that I looked at my life and seriously didn't believe I had what it took to live it and come out on top. I wanted to run away and literally not exist anymore. I knew my life was OK and that it was full of so many wonderful things, despite Derek's leukemia, but I didn't like myself in it. I felt like I just kept botching it up, like I couldn't get it together, like everything was going to break because I kept failing.
First of all, I wasn't failing, but my perfectionism didn't let me see it that way. Second, the whole saying of what doesn't kill you makes you stronger began to mean a whole lot more. I kept surviving day after day, month after month. Crazy. Third, that second thing is true because of Jesus Christ. He paid the ultimate price and part of his infinite sacrifice includes something called Grace. It's divine assistance given when we, as humans, don't have the capacity to do what our lives require. In the period of my life I just mentioned, when I thought my life would fall apart at the seams, I sure didn't have what it took, of myself, to do all that was required. But everything worked out and moved on because of Grace. We get to try again tomorrow because of Grace. Second and thirty-second chances are because of Grace.
Ok, back to Life's crap being an opportunity... We all have a choice to let God in or not. He will never force us. He gave us agency. Why would He mess with it? He doesn't. If we choose to let God in, especially during times of upheaval, we feel His love, His comfort, His help. His love is perfect and can heal all. I've felt it time and time again. I felt it when my father passed away all-of-a-sudden, when my own emotions were so raw and my whole system was in shock. I felt it the day before we found out Derek has leukemia because God knew I would need an extra dose due to what was about to go down. I feel it when I look at my darling children (I'm not talking about the moments when I want to sell them to the gypsies). I feel it when I read His word, go to church, etc.
Another time I feel that love is when I serve others. Is it hard to reach out when your own life feels so outta control? Um, A LOT- at least for me. But our trials give us the maximum opportunity to develop that perfect Christlike love. Yes, we feel it as we struggle coming directly from Him, but there's another avenue: outward.
Every time I hear of someone's father dying there's a part of me that aches and mourns and weeps for them. I know how much I still miss my own father, how I long to talk to him, hug him, watch him play with my children. I cannot describe how that all hurts, still, after 11 years. Is he where he needs to be? Yes. Will I see him again? I'm 100% sure. I still miss him though. That's why I feel the way I do when I know of someone else who has recently lost their father. I "get it." Is my life identical to theirs? No, duh. But I have a new level of compassion. I wouldn't have that if I hadn't been through my own father passing.
That's where the other avenue of Christ's love comes in. In the Garden of Gethsemane He suffered for our sins, and everything else. He literally felt all that we have ever felt or will feel. He really does "get it" as if he really were you and me. So, when we have been through something similar to that of someone else, we can feel a new love and compassion for that person. We know better how to comfort them. We have a better idea of what to say, what to do, etc. We are given challenges in life to provide such opportunities, to develop charity: the pure love of Christ.
I don't know about anyone else, but in my efforts to turn the lemons of my life into refreshing lemonade, I make lots and lots of messes. I yell at my kids, I over-react to things, I get a certain degree of road rage, my husband drives me crazy, I get extremely frustrated with myself. Guess what? I'm finding that most of us do. And it's okay. It's just like learning music or a sport, or anything else: keep practicing. When you see someone at their worst, keep in mind they're in practice mode too. When you're the one in the vulnerable state having a messy day and others see it, don't be afraid. Own it. I think we could do a lot less pretending we've got it together (or thinking everyone else does), and a lot more opening up to others- listening to someone in need, smiling and encouraging the mother in the supermarket whose child is throwing a tantrum, not judging the woman who is picking up her kid from school in her PJs, and not worrying about what others might think. It's not worth it! Life is too short for such nonsense, and yet, here we find ourselves time and time again stuck in such ruts. At least I do. Someone please tell me I'm not the only one with lemon juice, sugar, water, and lemon zest all over my kitchen. And if I am, oh well. The cat is out of the bag now. Oh wait, I don't like cats. Too late.
One more thing: my SI joint (where your tailbone connects to your hip bone- sing the song if you'd like). It moves too much because my most inner abdominal muscle is significantly weaker than the 3 more superficial ab muscles. Yeah I know you really wanted to know that, not really. It's got me thinking: what's the soft under belly that needs strengthening metaphorically? My conclusion: gratitude. Gratitude is a catalyst that leads to all other virtues. It leads to faith, obedience to God, hope, love, true conversion, etc. Anywho, that's some cud I'm still chewing on a lot.
Tally ho!
Monday, August 8, 2016
Make it Stop!
Time. It's only for us mortals, something God created just for our lives here on earth. I have a dysfunctional relationship with Time. I want more hours in the day to get more done, like many people I know (but then there's always the debate of whether or not that would actually happen). I give myself deadlines for things that really don't have deadlines and then beat myself up for not meeting my own pointless requirements. I want Time to stop rather often when it comes to my children growing up. This is the most unfair part of parenthood- Time is robbing me of my babies! Why do they have to grow up so fast?!! Not fair. Then there are the moments that can't get here fast enough- my recovery from injury, date night with Tyler, the day when I can go for a run and not have to worry someone is home with our children, the day when my children can get breakfast without my assistance. I just can't win. Deep breaths.
Summer is the absolute best season. Period. Well, except where I grew up- the Phoenix Valley. It's Hades' realm, no joke. I really don't understand why there are so many people that live there! Ok, rant over. Summer in the Salt Lake Valley is much, much better. Yes, it gets hot, but not 105+ hot. It cools of at night. The mountains are super close, there are lakes to boat in, swimming pools to enjoy, a fantastic growing season for gardening, and much more. Well, as Time would have it, the most wonderful time of the year ends shortly. Boo, hiss. Derek and I haven't really discussed the upcoming school year because I'm in denial. Good thing he loves school anyways.
Last summer was the summer from Hell. Our lives exploded- new baby, fender bender, my mom almost died, and Derek got diagnosed with leukemia. BOOM! This summer has been a dream! I enjoyed a sisters retreat in Park City, ran my favorite half marathon with my phenomenal oldest sister, got in a quick visit to the Tetons for my uncle's funeral (I learned A LOT about family- more on that later), had a fun Waddell family reunion in Boise (fabulous half-day river rafting trip among other fun adventures), and got to spend a few days at Flaming Gorge with the Canova's. Really, this all has to end? I'm not convinced. Guess I'm not in control. All in all, that's probably a good thing.
Not too long ago Derek said he sometimes forgets he has cancer. Going in every 4th Thursday sure allows for more normalcy. As luck would have it, one of said treatments was the same day as my uncle's funeral up in Teton Valley. That meant Tyler stayed behind to take him. I drove up to Heaven on Earth with my mom, Benjamin, and Zachary. My youngest sure learned the meaning of road trips this summer! As much as I love the Tetons, our little trip was disastrous. Zac struggled in the car a bit, both Ben and Zac didn't want me to leave them for a second at my aunt's bed and breakfast (keep in mind they're both every independent children), and their behavior during the actual funeral was deplorable. Who's children were these anyways? My cousin's 7 children were behaving perfectly! What gives?! I wanted to check myself in to a crazy house. I seriously asked myself why I even bothered going on that little trip.
At one point while I sat on the floor of the nursery in the church during the funeral, my mother told me my late father was proud of me. Sure, Mom. I was a complete basket case right then. What was there to be proud of- a complete lunatic for a daughter? Right...
Originally my reasoning had everything to do with my uncle taking my dad's place at my wedding. Out of all my dad's brothers, I felt the most connected with him. Sure, I hadn't seen him in years, but so what? Then, the reality of being there with the aforementioned behavior of Ben and Zac, I wondered what I'd been thinking. Sometimes I just get too confident. It felt like it was back-firing big time.
After I got home, I was able to review those 2 days from a different perspective. I remembered the stories my mom told me in the car of some of my ancestors. I watched my dad's siblings interact with each other (there are 9 total, 3 of which have passed away). These are people I've known and loved my whole life. I saw more of them this time than ever before. I saw some of the same behaviors and tendencies in myself. I understood more of where I come from. I understood why family matters, why societies hinge on how they define it. And I grew to love mine (immediate and distant) even more. Thankfully the price to learn that was just a few emotional days- my children weren't sold to the gypsies, and I refrained from checking myself in to that crazy house (probably because I didn't know where the closest one was).
And so, Time keeps moving forward. School starts for Derek soon, Benjamin's 2nd year of preschool is pending, Zachary keeps growing (despite me ordering him to stop), and my gray hairs keep multiplying. Whad'ya gonna do? I'd like to say I'm going to embrace it, but I know myself better than that. I'll probably keep kicking against the pricks, try to do too much in a given period of time, and get frustrated, yet again, that I couldn't be superhuman and get more done. When X genes start manifesting themselves, I already know what one I want- Class V, a Phoenix. All or nothing.
Til then, I guess I'll keep trying to live by faith, love and forgive more, serve my neighbor, and get my injured legs and hips back out on the road running lots of miles, and fast. I guess the fact that Time never does stop isn't so bad. There is a lot to look forward to.
Summer is the absolute best season. Period. Well, except where I grew up- the Phoenix Valley. It's Hades' realm, no joke. I really don't understand why there are so many people that live there! Ok, rant over. Summer in the Salt Lake Valley is much, much better. Yes, it gets hot, but not 105+ hot. It cools of at night. The mountains are super close, there are lakes to boat in, swimming pools to enjoy, a fantastic growing season for gardening, and much more. Well, as Time would have it, the most wonderful time of the year ends shortly. Boo, hiss. Derek and I haven't really discussed the upcoming school year because I'm in denial. Good thing he loves school anyways.
Last summer was the summer from Hell. Our lives exploded- new baby, fender bender, my mom almost died, and Derek got diagnosed with leukemia. BOOM! This summer has been a dream! I enjoyed a sisters retreat in Park City, ran my favorite half marathon with my phenomenal oldest sister, got in a quick visit to the Tetons for my uncle's funeral (I learned A LOT about family- more on that later), had a fun Waddell family reunion in Boise (fabulous half-day river rafting trip among other fun adventures), and got to spend a few days at Flaming Gorge with the Canova's. Really, this all has to end? I'm not convinced. Guess I'm not in control. All in all, that's probably a good thing.
Not too long ago Derek said he sometimes forgets he has cancer. Going in every 4th Thursday sure allows for more normalcy. As luck would have it, one of said treatments was the same day as my uncle's funeral up in Teton Valley. That meant Tyler stayed behind to take him. I drove up to Heaven on Earth with my mom, Benjamin, and Zachary. My youngest sure learned the meaning of road trips this summer! As much as I love the Tetons, our little trip was disastrous. Zac struggled in the car a bit, both Ben and Zac didn't want me to leave them for a second at my aunt's bed and breakfast (keep in mind they're both every independent children), and their behavior during the actual funeral was deplorable. Who's children were these anyways? My cousin's 7 children were behaving perfectly! What gives?! I wanted to check myself in to a crazy house. I seriously asked myself why I even bothered going on that little trip.
At one point while I sat on the floor of the nursery in the church during the funeral, my mother told me my late father was proud of me. Sure, Mom. I was a complete basket case right then. What was there to be proud of- a complete lunatic for a daughter? Right...
Originally my reasoning had everything to do with my uncle taking my dad's place at my wedding. Out of all my dad's brothers, I felt the most connected with him. Sure, I hadn't seen him in years, but so what? Then, the reality of being there with the aforementioned behavior of Ben and Zac, I wondered what I'd been thinking. Sometimes I just get too confident. It felt like it was back-firing big time.
After I got home, I was able to review those 2 days from a different perspective. I remembered the stories my mom told me in the car of some of my ancestors. I watched my dad's siblings interact with each other (there are 9 total, 3 of which have passed away). These are people I've known and loved my whole life. I saw more of them this time than ever before. I saw some of the same behaviors and tendencies in myself. I understood more of where I come from. I understood why family matters, why societies hinge on how they define it. And I grew to love mine (immediate and distant) even more. Thankfully the price to learn that was just a few emotional days- my children weren't sold to the gypsies, and I refrained from checking myself in to that crazy house (probably because I didn't know where the closest one was).
And so, Time keeps moving forward. School starts for Derek soon, Benjamin's 2nd year of preschool is pending, Zachary keeps growing (despite me ordering him to stop), and my gray hairs keep multiplying. Whad'ya gonna do? I'd like to say I'm going to embrace it, but I know myself better than that. I'll probably keep kicking against the pricks, try to do too much in a given period of time, and get frustrated, yet again, that I couldn't be superhuman and get more done. When X genes start manifesting themselves, I already know what one I want- Class V, a Phoenix. All or nothing.
Til then, I guess I'll keep trying to live by faith, love and forgive more, serve my neighbor, and get my injured legs and hips back out on the road running lots of miles, and fast. I guess the fact that Time never does stop isn't so bad. There is a lot to look forward to.
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