Reflecting: One Year Later

Time has really flown by; it was a year ago, today, that I lost my job.

It has been a rocky year for me.

To be truthful, I was devastated and extremely hurt by the way I was "let go." It caught me completely by surprised and really rocked the security of my little world. I immediately wanted to run from all the people who hurt me and never look back. However, I've always felt God prompting me to face my problems and not run away from them. I could never truly express to anyone, just how tough the road was for me this year. I was doing everything in my power to hold myself together, and if I allowed one little crack in my wall, the floodgates of what might flow out could not be contained. In addition, no one but me seemed to understand how big of a deal this was...like I should be able to get over it quickly.

I've experienced a whole range of emotions, as most people would. I've been bitter, angry, jealous, torn, frustrated, and so much more. All the while attempting to remind myself of the promises of God and know that He had a plan...even in this.

Even now, I'm not over it.

I still don't have an answer for any of my why's? I'm not sure if I ever will on this earth. I still have a hard time looking the people who hurt me in the eye, especially after they moved on so quickly. I still pretend and say that I'm "okay," when they ask, even if I'm not. I mean, what's a girl really to do in this scenario? My world stopped turning, but theirs kept on moving, leaving me completely in the dust. My turmoil as a result of their actions seemed to have absolutely no affect on them.

I've been trying to move on, but what does that look like for me? I've prayed about forgiveness, focused on my job and my relationship with God. Funny thing is that God has been pretty quiet.

I'm definitely ready to not just be putting one foot in front of the other. I want my joy back; more importantly, I want to thrive in whatever circumstances God has placed in front of me. Trust me, I realize things could be so much worse.

Despite that, I'm always hoping for more...from myself and the people in my life. It has been one long year, but God has put some great friends in my life. They have helped me to laugh when I've wanted to cry, treated me to dinner when I jobless, put up with my moods, and most importantly stood by my side. To those folks, I couldn't have made it through this year without you.

And...I'm moving on, and I don't know what that looks like. I'm sure there will be more bumps in the road on this journey, but I'm ready. This is just one of the songs that I've enjoyed in the last few months.



Busted Phalange!

As I'm sure you've realized, I haven't posted in quite some time. I haven't been able to type for the last 6 weeks, and it is still a little sketchy.

Back on July 6, I went out cycling, and had a bike accident. I don't really know what happened, but I fell. When I peeled myself off of the concrete from a face down position, my left pinky finger was broken in an unlikely way. It was stuck in a crooked position, and I knew the a visit to the ER was imminent.

However, I was out by myself, and had to "effect self rescue" as the guys on Dual Survival would say. Thankfully, I has my trusty iphone with me. I dug it out of my bike bag and called my parents; but, they were working in the yard and didn't here the phone. My brother was much further away (20 mi.) , but I called him anyway. He answered the phone and began to make his way to me. He was definitely my hero that night.

While waiting for him a couple things happened. Nice people came by and moved my bike out of the way of other traffic on the levee, checked on me, and offered to go by my house to tell my parents. Me, being a photographer, felt the urge to share a picture of my broken finger on Facebook. Some people appreciated this, some were horrified by the picture, and others were horrified that I was taking pictures instead of crying. After that, I had to make my way to a spot where Chris could pick me up, so I walked my bike with my right hand about 1/2 a mile with my phone tucked under my left arm with the mangled finger to be ready for his call.

I spent the evening in the ER, and the staff at West Jeff was pretty great. My brother was so freaked the whole time because he doesn't like hospitals, but he was a trooper hanging out with me there. I did my best to entertain him, even though that bothered him as well...I guess he thought I should cry or something because of the swelling and relentless throbbing of my finger.

Obviously, I left the hospital late that night with a reset finger, my arm in a cast, and a handy prescription for anti-nausea and pain medicine. I was pretty out of it from being sedated for the resetting portion of the evening, but the family got me home and into bed.

Then, the road to recovery began, but more about that in future posts. I've been documenting the process, so here are three images from the beginning. The initial shot I posted to Facebook (a little blurry but my hand was shaking), a better one I forced my brother to take while waiting in the ER, and the first of my three casts. Enjoy!