Water-filled Sneakers.

Mom,

I'm feeling alive and aware... even with so much awareness of brokenness and lack of_____.

My shoes have been full of water all day. And no, this is not just metaphor-they literally have been filled with water all day. 

Since January 2014, Rain has brought with it the need for bravery. To abandon the fear of falling; crutches losing grip and balance lost. 

You think I've never had a "bad word" slip out? Walk with me in the rain and watch my lips come undone, even if just on the rare occasions. Sorry God, my bad.  

The only word I can think of to describe it is traumatizing, Sounds silly, but when your body teaches you not to trust it, falling in the same section of walkway every. single. time. trauma is the only description. 

Maybe this is why my children's book series has "rainboots" in the title--it's a call to bravery.

Mom, even with the awareness of what I lack...the standards I'm not meeting as an almost college graduate (May 2nd!!)...and the loss of control--I feel alive and aware. 

Alive. Heart beating. Life changing. Morphing into who I've always seen myself becoming with God. 

Aware. Aware that such change and morphing is painstakingly slow, often confusing and internal before external. 

Mom, I'm beginning to celebrate the success of transformation taking root in my life and my heart in the last year and a half. I'm not the person I was January 2014, I'm not the person I was January 8th 2015. Some say you can see the changes via text message, but no the real stuff is seen when standing face to face. Take some time to stop making assumptions and see with clear vision the hard work it took to get here. The struggles, The support had and needed. The confusion. The loss in so many small ways. The gains.

 OH THE GAINS! 

I see more courage, More trust, More repentance, More hope. More clarity.

Less shame. Less hiding. Less possessions. Less unrealistic expectation. Less time wasted, Less doubt. Less of my selfishness.

More love received and given. More friendships strengthened. More adventures. More sacrifice. More storytelling. More redemption.

The same hard work. The same prayers. The same focus. The same forgiveness. The same God. The same desire to show others they matter more. The same appreciation of tenacity.  The same heart for Haiti. 

More singing. More dancing. More silliness. More public speaking. More prayers. 

So much more to learn, to change, to grow in, to release. 

OH DO I PRAY I TAKE MORE STEPS IN WATER-FILLED SHOES. Water-filled shoes remind me to relinquish, to be brave, to continue on and to remember from where I came. To remain alive and aware. 

Love always

Your Daughter,

Brittany

For the Love of Haiti

Mom,

Haiti is home. 
It was there that I met my teachers.
Teachers who, like I, find joy in the circumstances God gives us...even though others might label such circumstances as "suffering".

Until I have time to really bleed on paper, just know my life is changing...but my heart for orphan care is not...thanks to Haiti.

Love Always and Forever
Your Daughter,
Brittany

Do You Know Where I Can Find A New Pair of Legs? Oh, That's on Aisle Three!

Dear Mom:

Today marks my one-year post surgical anniversary.

 This past year of recovery has been absolutely nothing like what I had hoped, but I'm wholeheartedly grateful for the people who have been standing alongside me in the gaps of expectation and reality.

 It is to those people, the people who...

Fed me my peas because I didn't have the strength

Brought me tons of things to distract myself from the Judge Judy marathons at the hospital

Made my dream come true by playing the grand piano at the hospital for me

Held my hand, or picked up the phone, while I cried in frustration with what I wasn't able to do... or with what wasn't happening at Intensive Outpatient Physical Therapy

Would visit with me for lunch or dinner

Would visit or call me every day I was in the hospital

Brought me to Physical Therapy

Took the role as both my physical therapist and a wonderful friend

Carried and transported my furniture when I moved (too much)

Came all the way from the South to spend a weekend taking care of me and going on wonderful adventures

Gave me hugs.

Brought me to church with you

Saw me through wheelchairs...scooters..walkers...more types of walkers...and now crutches

Made me smoothies with flax oil and peaches and all sort of healthy stuff I hadn't yet tried

Brought me a meal and gave me some quality conversations in the early months

Who watched me take "shots" of Siberian Pine Nut oil to get rid of my bleeding stomach ulcer (that was quite fun)

Even in recovery would want me to consult on projects because, even on pain meds, they still knew I needed productivity

Brought me to WJU to hear the choir, go to chapel, and get my cast decorated

Took me in as their friend

Texted or sent encouraging words, prayers, hugs, and love to me in ALL the ups and downs

Believe I can get to Haiti...and who rejoice with me now, as it's happening on Friday! (cue dance music)

    ....that I say this: I couldn't have made it through the last 365 days without you!

So Mom, today at therapy part of me wanted to just give up and sit down because,,,even after 365 days and a somewhat surprise surgery in-between,,, I still can't hike up my left leg or stand on my right foot. 

But then I got home and I remembered all the great memories, and the mountain high hurdles that I've overcome, and (well, maybe) still having to say that I'm recoverying, with an ING, isn't really as frustrating as I think. Why? Because recovering reminds me of all the people who have been, and I pray will continue to, be by my side in it. 

Maybe I should keep working at that hip hike-- despite wanting to buy a new pair of legs on aisle three at Target. 

Thank you God for these 365 crazy days of life. 

Love Always

Your Daughter, 

Brittany 

Voice.

Mom,
(this is all one scattered ramble)
I know you were not one for long talks of the Christian faith and its influence on life, but the truth is such things are of importance to me, even more so now than they were when you were around... if you can believe it.

So if you're listening, I hope these things are of importance to you now too. I always prayed when you were sick that we could talk of these things... maybe these letters have become the answer to that prayer.

In case you didn't notice, yesterday was the eighth month mark of my  massive multi-part surgery. I don't know why that is such a big deal today...

 Mom, I miss you. I wish I could find that tenacity you always had in your heart, instead of the uneasiness I have now.

Thank you Lord. Despite missing her, despite temporary sadness. Thank you Lord, for giving me the strength to use the walker inside the apartment;that ten percent of my time replenishes my hope.

I feel a little trapped here at school. I LOVE my classes and reuniting with my professors...the new friends I'm making... I just fear that I'm going to get stuck in the "Christian bubble" and will forget what it means to implement true faith, true community.

I'm trying to find my contentment again, trying to find my "life" direction...trying to find that paper somewhere that reminds me of the day He said there is a specific, great, lovely, and fulfilling call.

---- Just keeping my head up and my eyes wet in thankfulness for what the Lord has in store. Focusing on keeping my heart quiet  and my ears open, waiting for that voice to return and calm my spirit. It always does, if I'm continually patient.----
Love Always and Forever
Your Daughter,
Brittany

"Less Excess, More Faith--Party of ONE?"

Mom,
Sometimes it's so hard to dream. To have a dream, a desire, that is so much bigger than yourself. To yearn and work for that dream to become a reality, yet always feeling so far away from it...3,228 miles away from it to be exact.

I'm sitting here in my room, packing. Yet again.
As I sit next to a pile of books I'm thrilled to read and a pile of old journals I've skimmed through, all I can think about is the excess. I have so much stuff. So much un-necessary stuff. I've already given bags to Goodwill and donated books to the Library, yet I still have so much stuff.

Over the last few months I've moved so much that, for a while, I had been "traveling" with roughly ten shirts. It didn't matter if I was at a place for two weeks or two months, for a while I just found it easier. Cleaner to live that way. It didn't actually bother me that every week and a half or so I had to do laundry, It just felt right. That lasted until April...what happened to that? ...Oh, yeah. fear.

That's a silly example I know, but while part of me loves planning for "the future after college graduation in May", there is a LARGE portion of me that has learned to settle in with the idea of having very little. Maybe it is because my inner self believes that if I have little I can GIVE more. Not to say people with more than 10 shirts in their closet can't give more, many many many of my dear friends show that this is untrue. They are the most selfless people, those I love.

 I've been in this "season" (ugh that word!) where I've been really struggling with the reality that I need to be asking for help.  I need to accept that others give to me because I'm in need: I'm the one who needs rides to the doctors and the one who needs encouragement when recovery becomes my worst nightmare. It's been...no, it IS, such a struggle to feel like I have so little to give to the ones I love.

 Maybe that feeling of being less-useful because of my physical limits (you should see me become all antsy when moving day comes) is why I think an emptier closet equals more opportunity to give. I want to give back. I want to give back regardless of if I'm in a wheelchair or refusing to use my cane.

I don't want to be told that my giving must fit inside the box of MY capabilities.  I don't want to be told to give "as long as it's safe  for your body" and deemed "appropriate".

  I don't want my body to cage my heart.  

I serve a God that is bigger than my non-walking limbs. I serve a God that provides miracles. I serve a God that places in his children's hearts the desires to give and serve in ways that don't make sense.

So tonight I have to believe that those dreams and those callings to serve and give are NOT there to just tease me. Though the word "desire" does not seem to even begin to encompass the passion and heart I have to go to Haiti, to learn from the Haitian people, to break all those stupid molds of "capabilities"...I have to believe that the desire to go give and be given to in Haiti was not placed on my heart to tease my limbs.

 For now then, I guess I have to fight for those dreams...keep working at my Creole lessons (I just started last week, but I'll get there), and believe that where I'm at now is not permanent. I have to believe and keep taking those small steps to this giant dream. My God is faithful-now only if I was more like Him.

Well, here's to trying to be just that...faithful.
Love Always and Forever
Your Daughter,
Brittany

Root Down

"The fairest thing in nature, a flower, still has its roots in earth and manure."-D.H. Lawrence

Mom,
Sometimes I don't understand. I don't understand how our world works. How are we okay with hiding our truest selves and replacing it with worldly cares of image and success?

 I find myself these days very introspective...wondering when my motives towards things got skewed and thankful that I was able to take a step back and re-align myself with the things that matter more than promotions, money, comfort and the like. It is nothing short of extremely challenging to stand up for the beliefs and actions that go against the grain of this world, letting go of the security and kingdom I was building for myself and walk towards the path less comfortable. The path that requires more trust and less control on my part.

Yesterday the world was hit with the shock-wave of Robin Williams death; a beloved comedian speculated to have committed suicide. For some reason, I can't wrap my brain around it. I just don't understand how a person who is in a field that is committed to bringing joy and laughter to others, could continue doing such things while a silent monster ate him alive. It makes me sad that people sometimes don't feel safe enough to be true to themselves, to vocalize pains and seek restoration.

Now Mom, I'm not saying in any way that I have all of this down pat.We all have moments of fear that seem, to us, to be so paralyzing  that we don't know how to save ourselves--we need others to fight for us.  We both know I still have a lot of growing to do when it comes to trusting in the midst of vulnerability, but I think that is why Williams death is so heartbreaking. It reminds me that transparency and vulnerability are painful... at first...but necessary for life. If Williams reached out in his hour of need and was completely honest, maybe his mind could have been changed. Hope restored.

In order for a flower to continue to bloom it must root down into the earth, tying itself to a steady foundation and moving past the surface level soil in order to remain. We must do the same. We must, I must, walk towards the things in life that will allow for our roots to grow deep into the earth. We must remain stable and tied to our foundation-who we were created to be- in order to rise and bloom into the great call on our life. 
                                        What joy we will find when we live in that place!

Independence comes from dependence on our foundation. If each person, myself included, walked closer to the call on our life and to the One who placed it there, maybe we would have less dissatisfaction and more bold faith.

Then maybe as a result this world, our environment, would be a little less chaotic and a little more life-giving instead of life-taking.

Love Always and Forever 

Your Daughter, 

Brittany

Written April 20th: Ladies and Gentlemen

Hi Mom,

It has indeed been months without writing, but I think it was for the best. Writing any earlier than this moment would have meant that I would have left out the lessons I’ve learned…unable to see the larger picture at that point in time.

The week and weekend after the Superbowl was truly a turning point in so many ways…It was a new vulnerability for me and marked the start of a months time without weekly visits from friends…but yet just what people I needed, just the birthday phone calls I prayed for, to keep me thriving and so so encouraged.

I ended my time living in Rocklin (for now) after a restful and EYE OPENING weekend away at a friends house…before the weekend was over I had decided to leave my at-the-time current living quarters for something totally different, totally life giving. Two weeks turned into two months and I cannot put into words how thankful I am for all the things I’ve learned, all the friends I’ve met, all the prayers I’ve prayed, all the tears I’ve cried over the injustices in our world, all the involvement I have grown into with our church… different than I thought, but exactly where God wants me…all the life experience and growth I’ve made.

I’m being filled and healed, encouraged and tested in ways that I know can only be God’s doing. After those two months I now have another new place to call home full of such blessing and more growth, encouragement, and fun. 

Almost-two-year-olds are such fun, even on his rough days I’m convinced he’s the best out there.

Surgery recovery has had its ups and its relapses but I've been busy. My favorite Georgia girl came to town, I conquered a week in SLO, and am now in month three of therapy twice a week. So thankful that if I have to be yanked and cranked on at least I’m friends  with the one who is doing it…a new blessing for me in this surgery/cerebral palsy journey of mine. To feel safe and advocated for before the first visit to the clinic even began.

Wednesdays have always been my favorite day, the day of the week Sara and I usually get together and last Wednesday that happened again. I just love lunch dates and real life conversations. This Wednesday was just as fulfilling, this time with a different friend.

I’m so thankful for the ladies and gentlemen in my life…. For teaching me about this crazy thing we call adulthood, relationships, service, and walking with God. Couldn’t be happy in the ups and the downs without God’s orchestration and of course the constant: family…and friends who are just the same as blood.

Love Always and Forever

Your Daughter

Brittany