Small things

 Last weekend, we took a quick family getaway to the beach before fall schedules take over our lives.

Saturday morning, I saw a man walk off the beach with three large conch shells.  He said he found them right there, and he was out there early.  I wanted to find one too so I spent most of my time that day at the beach searching for shells.  The waves were very rough at the beach due to the incoming storms, so the kids weren't in the water too much.  I invited them to find shells with me- I offered a reward to the person that found the largest in tact shell.

Two of my kids asked me if we could be the first ones on the beach the next morning so we would have a better chance of finding the largest shell.  The low tide was at 4:15 AM, so they asked if we could get up at 5:15 to head out.

The next morning, I got up at 5:30 AM and to my surprise, the kids were up ready to go to the beach. We headed out to the beach, it was so dark and beautiful.  We were the first ones on the beach.  I was so fixated on finding a large shell, I kept flashing my light looking for a big object.  After 45 minutes of searching, all we had found was a hollowed out decrepit skeleton of a small conch shell and many broken tops.

I actually found myself starting to pray to God that we would find a shell-- then I stopped because I felt ridiculous that I would pray to find a shell.  I had built up my kids so much that we would definitely find a shell, since the man the day before had found 3.  I was worried they would get frustrated and want to leave, but I secretly enjoyed spending the time with them and we were having fun.  Then, I remembered that I heard that no prayer is too large or too small for God.  So,  I started my prayer over and asked God to help us find a shell, so they could experience its beauty and see that there is so much life outside of their phones.

By this time, there were four other people on the beach, each heading in directions opposite to where we were.  We were in an area with lots of debris and had searched it pretty heavily.  I finally got frustrated and said "great, those people up ahead are going to find the shells before us."  My son said, "Mom why are you so worried about finding a big one, the chances of finding a small one are just the same as finding a big one...what's wrong with a small one?"

Then, he looked down, and goes "see mom look, don't forget about the small things", and picks up a beautiful small, completely intact conch shell, right next to his foot.  I couldn't believe it.  We had stood in that area searching for several minutes and no sooner do I say my prayer, than this shell should appear.

I do believe God placed this shell at my son's foot.  He wanted me to know he is with him, even in my moments of doubt, even in his moments of doubt and weakness.  He is with us, I just need to trust.

No prayer is too small or too large.

No prayer is too silly.

The outcome of a situation you pray for may not be obvious until later, sometimes a lot later.

Stop focusing so much on big things.

Stop trying to predict outcomes.

Stop trying to think you know what you're supposed to see or hear.

Stop putting so much pressure on yourself.

Stop worrying.

Start living in the moment.

Start enjoying.

Start appreciating all the small things.

Start opening your eyes.

Start seeing everything, because the one thing you think you're supposed to be looking for may be blocking you from the real treasure.

Talk About Suicide

Twas the night before my moving truck was coming to pack us up and move us half way across the country.  I received a phone call from my son's guidance counselor alerting me that one of his friends had come forward to let her know my son had a suicide plan and date.

A few months prior to this call, my husband received a notification that my son's email received a bunch of suicide memes.  He immediately confronted him, to which he said they were just for humor (since when is suicide the type of humor anyone would want to read).  We started probing him more, and alerted his therapist.

Upon further investigation, suicide was mentioned in some texts to his friends and group chats.  This whole time, I'm wondering, why aren't these kids speaking up... how come no one is seeking help for my son.  I know the high schools have programs to let kids know the warning signs of suicide and to seek help.  So, why weren't any of them speaking up?

They are afraid to speak up!!! They don't want to be the bad guy or the non-trustworthy one. They don't think their friend would do it.

Sometimes we, the parents, are afraid to speak up as well. It took me quite some time to be able to tell someone that my son had been talking about suicide (besides his therapist of course).  I finally mentioned something to one of his friends' moms.  I began to wonder, will she think I'm a bad mom, will she not allow her child to spend time with mine anymore, will she think my child is a misfit?...  Then, I said to myself, "self, you're the mom, there's nothing to be embarrassed about and the hardest part of your job right now is to keep this kid alive and get help."

Our kids need to be brave for their friends and for themselves.  They need to realize that suicidal speak is a cry for help, it's not ok to hide, and it does not make them a bad friend for speaking up. Having a bad day, a break up, a failed social media post, or feeling bad about yourself in general does not warrant a death wish.  It is a tremendous burden to carry, hearing that your friend wants to end their life and worrying what to do about it.

We need to be able to talk about it, for our kids and for ourselves.  Recently, I have spoken openly about what my son has been going through and I was completely taken aback by the number of people who have also dealt with similar situations with their own children or even themselves.  I have a friend that openly talked with me about being severely depressed to help me better understand where my son was coming from.  This has been the hardest year of my life.  Sometimes the people standing with a smile on their face have the darkest things going on inside.  Take the time to talk and listen to your friends and family. I felt alone and dark for quite some time, until I finally realized I was setting myself in my own bubble.  By talking about it, I no longer feel alone and realized how many others need similar support.

This year, my son has had two plans for suicide.  The second time around, his friends called me, texted me, and even sent me screen shots of a secret instagram I didn't know about.  They learned from the first time around, that I wasn't going to freak out at them and that in fact their voice meant potentially saving a life.  As much as I hate social media and my kids' ability to spend way too much time on it, it did give my son an avenue to voice what otherwise may have been kept inside and hidden from me until it was too late.

We all want to think we are doing the right thing and our kids wouldn't think like that.  Trust me, I consider myself a professional motivator, I gave up caffeine when I was pregnant, I made my son homemade baby food, I breast fed him, he was reading at age 4, he has many many privileges, we have lived around the world... how could he be depressed.  I don't know, but he is and here we are.

Talk to your kids about suicide so they begin to understand their own feelings.

Talk to your kids about suicide so they may be brave enough to save a friend.

Talk to your kids about suicide because if you don't, someone else will and the message may be completely different.  With social media these days, there is so much twisted information out there for your kids.. who do you want them to form themselves from, you or complete strangers.

Talk to your kids about suicide so they understand what happens on the other side to all those left behind to pick up the pieces.

Talk to your kids about suicide so they know how to get help if they need it.

Talk to your kids about suicide because you love them.

Talk about suicide because as much as you think you're alone, you're not.

Suicide is now the second leading cause of death among teens in NC.  I can tell you one thing, my son isn't going to be a statistic.

Stop Apologizing

I'm here for what seems like my yearly post.

I'm not going to apologize for not getting in here more often.   Lately, I have felt called to write.

I'm moving soon.  I'm writing 200+ letters, one to every member at the gym I'm leaving.  This is an excerpt from a letter I wrote.  I think it applies to many.

I did not ask you to join the box.  You decided to.

I did not ask you to be a member of this class.  You wanted to.

I did not make you come to class.  You motivated yourself.

I did not ask you to learn olympic lifts.  You hoped to.

I did not ask you to push yourself to your limits.  You decided to.

Don't apologize to me for anything.

You are here because you want to be.

I am happy you are here.

There is no mistake that our paths have crossed.

Your apology is not necessary.

No one walks in the door and knows what they are doing.  That's why we are all here.

Your lift was not perfect.  I know.  (No one's is).  Don't apologize that I had to come fix something.  That is part of my job.

My goal isn't to make you an expert, world class olympic lifter....  My goal is to make you confident, strong, and capable- just like I know you are.

You were put on this Earth with a purpose.  You came in here looking for something.  Find it.

Every time you walk through that door,  you are a little bit better.  My job is to keep making that happen.

Stop apologizing and start growing.  Reach for bigger and better things.

Be unapologetically you!