Updates and such...

Let's see. This month has been defining for myself and my family. We have been back in Raleigh since September and somehow it feels as though we are still adjusting- adjusting financially, culturally, and most of all mentally. Work is finally picking up for Brian, which is wonderful. It will be nice to maybe feel a little comfortable for a while. Life in the South is very different than what my husband is used to out west. He is adjusting beautifully and truly loves it here. I'm sure it was a shock going from Utah, to Texas, to North Carolina! However, we are at home here. Slowly making new friends. Neither of us have family here, and it's really hard, but we are HOME.

Despite not having actual kin here, we have an amazing church family filled with wonderful, kind people. I've never enjoyed Sunday School as much as I do 'nowadays.' I praise God for the opportunity to sit and study scripture with other wonderful couples and most of all, with my husband. Every day we get one step closer to a "Christ centered marriage." It will still take some time, but we are growing...together. Isn't it cool? How we broke the religious lines and how God is using us and WILL continue to use us in the future? Brian and I used to have very little in common. We are, with God's help, changing that. He is molding us. We are both finding comfort in His true Gospel. It was something we were very unsure about for the first year of our relationship. I've always known God, but now I can truly see Him blessing us and working in our lives. It's really cool, my friends. No matter how difficult of a situation Brian and I seem to find ourselves in, He always provides. I stand in awe of His miracles.

For instance...
The power of prayer, folks, is... NO... the power of God THROUGH prayer is incredible. Just this week my grandmother went into the hospital with Emphysema and Congestive Heart Failure. The doctors told me she would not live without the machines breathing for her and that it would be my decision when to let her leave this world. I was crushed. I felt like my heart exploded in my chest. She's my mother for all intents and purposes and most of all my best friend. She knows me. She's the only person in this world that truly KNOWS me. However, somehow, just yesterday, I called the hospital and heard her beautiful voice on the other end of the phone. She was off the ventilator, breathing better than before she was taken to the hospital. God is good. Thank you, Lord, for hearing our prayers and for giving this wonderful person a little more time with us.

Other things, let's see.

I auditioned and was called back for one of the lead roles, Clara, for the musical "The Light in the Piazza." When I first auditioned, I had no expectations at all. So many amazingly talented musicians auditioned, but I was actually called back! Callbacks were Saturday. I'm all but sure I did NOT get the role of Clara, simply because- although my second audition was good, it was not my best. I have a hunch the directors were somewhat sweet on one of the other three girls up for the role. She had a pretty fair second audition. If she is cast for the role, I am positive she will do great! I, however, will not mind at all being in the ensemble cast. It will probably be better to accept a smaller role at first. I need to get my sight reading skills back up to PAR! It will be great preparation for my next audition endeavor.

As for my family life. Things get better everyday. I love that. Things always get rocky, but they always end up better than before. I truly have been blessed with a very patient and understanding husband! Which are important traits if you wish to be married to me. I can be quite spontaneous and impatient. I like things to happen immediately. I cannot help it. It is both a blessing and a curse. Micaiah-- I don't talk about this wonderful person enough. She has brightened my life in ways I never thought possible. Everyone talks about their kids being the light of their lives, but with my daughter, this couldn't be more true. My life has felt somewhat desolate and incomplete for many years. Then Micaiah swiftly and unexpectedly entered my life. She's very special. She can make me smile when my heart is completely broken. I cannot wait until we can lay around and have wonderful mother/daughter conversations together. I cannot wait to see her all grown up, even though when those days come I will long to hold her tiny infant self in my arms again. Parenthood. My goodness. It changes you. Heart, mind, body, and soul. All for the better.

Thanks for reading today. I will try to update more often. Blogging--so therapeutic.

Been a while...

Where to start. There are so many things going on in my life right now. I am sure many people can relate to that statement!

Today the weather here in Raleigh was simply perfect. Even though it was nearly ninety degrees outside, it was beautiful, and it was also FRIDAY. So I made frozen pina coladas w/raspberries! Yum!

Now I should back up a bit... I should first warn any readers that there are some things that I need to say, some things that are eating away at me. If anything is offensive... I am sorry you feel that way.

Starting on February 5th, I offered a fellow co-worker a place to live. This co-worker had two teenage children; truthfully, two 'decently' well-behaved teenage children. They were all going to be homeless and it would only be for a month (right...). Did I mention they also had a very large dog and a cat? We all know where the story goes. A month turns into almost 2 months etc etc. Despite everything though, I have no regrets. It was worth cleaning after a thirteen year old girl, fifteen year old boy, fifty year old woman, 1 large dog, 1 small dog, and a cat, and even worth the feelings of extreme discomfort in my own home to ensure a comfortable stay for my guests. It was difficult to tell them they could not come back into our home again, but it simply had to be done. I must worry about my own family's needs first.

They were supposed to be out of the house before the arrival of my Brother and Sister-in-law. They weren't of course, but we managed to squeeze My husband, my four month old, my dog, myself, Catherine, her two kids, her dog and cat, my brother-in-law Spencer, and his wife, Abbie into a 3 bedroom, two story house. Incredible, I know. :-)

I'm a huge fan of having company. I love to entertain. It was quite pleasant having Brian's family in our home. Especially since all of our family live so far away, especially his! Their stay here in Raleigh seemed so short-lived. We enjoyed a wonderful day at the beach and several games of "Mormon Rook" and Mario Kart. We also enjoyed a wonderful Sunday at my church, which was quite unexpected. I'm sure it took nerve for them to attend a Southern Baptist church with us...Which brings me to my next thought.

My heart has become very hard lately. I have lost tolerance for religious lines. My husband being LDS never bothered me until the beginning of December when my Mother and Father-in-law visited. To put it lightly, they pretty much opened up Pandora's Box. Brian and I have not been the same since. Our marriage has been put to the test for sure. Thank God for my sweet, sweet child for holding us together and helping me to understand what is truly important as a parent and a wife.

It's not that my mother-in-law did anything wrong by "preaching" and pouring her heart out to me that I was holding my husband back from covenants he made with God. She simply opened my mind to a world of differences between myself and them. Me, the singular and them, the plural. After feeling like so much of my understanding of my own husband had been shattered, I felt lead to pour my heart into research of God's word. I studied every source available for the Book of Mormon and LDS doctrine, and of course the comparison to the Bible. I even considered the ultimate sacrifice of abandoning everything I know and converting to Mormonism to "save my husband" and essentially, my family. Not that I believed anything from the LDS doctrine, I simply wanted to make our family, a FAMILY. I didn't want to feel lonely anymore.

You see, I don't have any family left other than my very sick grandmother and a "father" that has nothing to do with us. So one can understand how it gets to be lonely when you cannot even relate in a spiritual sort of way to the man you've devoted to spend the rest of your life with. Deep down inside I've developed a self loathing. More than that I've developed a loathing for most anything associated with the Church of Latter Day Saints. I know this fact will hurt many people who may read this blog entry, I sincerely apologize.

I don't need to get into the many things I've uncovered in my research into the Bible and Book of Mormon, Doctrine and Covenants, and Pearl of Great Price. Some of my readers will be quite unfamiliar with a couple of those titles, as I once was, but I encourage those of you to research as well. It will certainly bring you closer to the grace and freedom of Jesus Christ in which I am familiar. I'm sure if I continue with my "preaching," it would only turn into more speculation and ridicule of a religion. There are many, many "mentionables" that will have to wait for another time. I, however, challenge the members of the LDS church to ALSO delve into research of their own church history and question their beliefs --if only to bring them closer to the salvation they know and already believe wholeheartedly.

I am pleased to report that this religious difference has tried and tested my marriage only to strengthen and nourish it. We are well on our way to familiar and similar religious lines to serve as a solid foundation to raise our daughter. I am proud to be married to Brian. He is smart and stubborn all at the same time. He is the most patient and trusting man I've ever known. God truly dwells in his heart and is working for our family and not against it. We study and research together and find meaning in God's true word. We will continue to grow as we begin to sincerely dive into His words and not the words of a 'prophet' who may or may not be 'true.' He is gaining a more open mind and heart to God's true sacrifice for our salvation and what it truly means to be saved. I'm proud of our family overcoming the odds and proud of Brian for being strong minded through what must truly be a difficult time for him.

I leave you, friends, with a few final thoughts to ponder. My Jesus Christ, Oh Lamb of God, was sacrificed so that we may live and dwell WITH God one day in the presence of His glory. No amount of good works or ceremonies of this Earth can replace the saving grace of God. The focus should always be on God and never on the vessel.

I Believe in the Cross and the Lamb who was slain for cleansing of our sins. I believe the Bible is the only true word of God and "no one shall add or taketh away from it," and that His grace is sufficient. Sufficient for ALL who are SAVED to dwell in His kingdom forever, and ever. Thank you Jesus for dying to save this wretched, lonely soul. He is risen. Amen. *Happy Easter Everyone*


Brian and I watched this video together today. It discusses the "Lost Book of Abraham." It was definitely an intriguing argument and we both agree on its content. Watch only with an open mind and spirit.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hcyzkd_m6KE&autoplay=1

Life is a choice. Make it the best choice you ever made ;-)

Approximately four years ago, during a church service that I was singing in, I felt the presence of God in such a strong way that I interrupted the show and shared a brief moment of my testimony. That was the first time I had ever spoken so freely in front of a large quantity of people about myself. I was quite the backward, introverted type at that time of my life—not the kind of person who wanted a light shined on and microscope placed over me for anyone to examine, let alone a crowd of two hundred or more. It would’ve, no it should HAVE felt like such a vulnerable moment for me, but that day it wasn’t me speaking. It was God.

After I finished blubbering what seemed like nonsense for… well I don’t remember how long, we jumped immediately into the next song, which I also cannot recall. The next few minutes that our group was vocalizing lyrics and music, I was trying to remember what I had said and why. I peered back to my college music director who was controlling our sound switchboard. Was he crying?

After the show was over, not one, not two, three or even four, but five women of all ages, all different backgrounds came to me in tears thanking me for sharing my testimony. Each having gone through what I had gone through at some stage of her life. Each deeply touched by MY short life story. One of those women truly stood out to me. She came to me as I was headed toward the dressing room to change clothes. She stopped me and said, “I never would have guessed you. You have such a talent, and are so beautiful. Watching you sing and seeing your spirit, I never would’ve guessed you to have had such a difficult life. You look like you have had everything.” Hearing these words shocked me. ---Everything?! ME have everything?

Why did my few short words reach out to those people? My words that were so insignificant.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I was born into an impoverished world. I am not talking about THE world; I am talking about my world, my world that I had absolutely no control over. My small-town-West Virginia world. I was placed briefly into the arms of a seventeen-year-old young woman, who then asked the nurse to show me to my forty-two year old, now divorced grandmother. There was no young father to hold me, to fall in love with my dark blonde hair and (at the time) baby blue eyes. Instead, holding my 6 pound, 7 ounce tiny body was a tired, brave, excited, nervous, but proud young mother and a beaming grandmother that couldn’t stop smiling at me. I was a miracle to my unprepared, unexpected young family, no matter how different or nonstandard we were.

I grew up among children just like me--single family and broken homes relying on only the bare essentials to live from day to day. I grew up among children who were the opposite of me as well, who had a mother and a father and a seemingly happy, stable home. I grew up among the abused and neglected children. I grew up among other children who used our tiny little elementary school as an escape or safe ground. All of us played together at recess. Even the children with the most complicated of lives could rejoice during recess.

I ask myself now, what did most of these children have in common, though? It was that even at a young age, we all had a picture of our future. Our picture was growing up to be the head of a small-town-West Virginia household with what our parents referred to as a “decent job.” Our highlights would be clocking out on Friday at 5 from a hard week’s work, fishing trips and camping on the weekends with family and friends, four-wheeling in the biggest mud holes we could find, a cold beer on a hot summer day, finishing the back porch project we had been planning for years, maybe college, if we could afford it, church on Sundays and football, football, football! Just thinking about it all still makes me smile. It was our American Dream.

So why didn’t I fit in? Why did I feel like there was more to life? Why was I secretly ashamed of my life as it were? I KNEW that I loved my family. My mother was the life of any party and simply a joy to be around—unless she was just waking up of course. J My grandmother was the most caring, adoring, strong woman that I would ever grow up to know, and both of them encouraged me every day. They told me, no, they literally beat it into my head, that I was special. I could be whatever I wanted to be. I could grow up and change the world if I wanted to. I had the most supportive two women in the world, and I knew that I had a choice to make my life into what I wanted my life to be. At six years old, I was going to be an astronaut, a police officer, a lawyer, a doctor, no… a... singer.

I was always quite the songbird. Humming and writing my own songs about flowers and lady bugs at as young as age three. Later, I danced and sang in front of my great grandmother’s huge bedroom mirror to all the pop music of the early 90s just like every other girl my age. No one in the world could tell me that I wasn’t going to be famous one day. Tragically, adolescence sets in for every young dreamer, and somehow dreams, goals, and ambitions slowly seem to fade, and then, life happens…

My mother finally married what seemed to be a good man when I was eleven. At age twelve, twin brothers entered my life! Finally, siblings!!! Even though at age twelve I felt more like a mother to them than a sister, it was really, well, cool! We were still poor, probably more so now, but we were happy. I began to realize what I really wanted for my future. My ambitions and goals became more mature. I eventually wanted a family that was stable. Stable enough that we could afford to enjoy the world in which we lived. Regardless of our poverty, we were a family, the family that I would soon grow up and learn that I had yearned for every day of my life. I yearned for a mother AND a father, brothers and sisters, Christmas and family traditions. Even MY biological father was slowly showing an interest in my life. I was so close to what I considered to be ‘normal.’ After some time, the “good man” turned into a hypocrite, and my real father began to show his true colors again just like he had done thirteen years earlier. The twins’ dad became a slob and a terrible husband, and an even more terrible father to say the VERY least, so my mother divorced him a year later--Another broken family. I thought it couldn’t get any worse…

It was only a year later that my mother died. She was ripped out of our lives in a sudden and tragic car accident. How could this happen? How could God let this happen to us, to me? Now my ex-step father regained custody of two innocent, two-year-old boys, and I legally belonged to my biological father. That didn’t last too long though. He actually didn’t even show up for the custody hearing between him and my grandmother. Now I felt empty. Felt like I would be lucky to even be able to “settle for less” in my life. Felt like no matter what goals I set for myself, it wouldn’t matter. I was a victim of constant failure. Why did I have NO control?

The next years of my life, now a blur, were full of bad decisions---choices that I had made. I made choices to experiment with alcohol, choices to abandon the God that I had prayed to every day, choices to slowly let my grades slip, choices to replace my emptiness with the short companionship of one boyfriend after another. It was okay, I was a victim. People felt sorry for me. I felt sorry for me.

Of course, with the bad decisions and regret, were good decisions and hope. Fortunately for me, when I abandoned God, He outright refused to abandon me. I was rededicated at sixteen and baptized for the first time at seventeen. Silly of me to think I could run from God’s plan. I realized that I wasn’t alone and that there was indeed someone who knew my heart and my desires and was ‘familiar with all my ways.’ He had even given me an outlet to save myself from the destruction. Actually, he reminded me that I had an outlet all along. Music. Music kept me in school. I was good at it. It gave me a good feeling about myself. It gave me hope. My childhood dream was still locked down inside of me. “Remember, Amanda you wanted to be the next Mariah Carey!!!” J

I salvaged my pride and became the first person in my family to beat the odds and attend college. Of course I was going to have to get scholarships and grants and the dreaded college loans to afford it…or maybe not… My grandma and mother always told me to use my talent to better my life, so I auditioned for college music groups, show choirs, even gospel groups that would help pay for college. I was entirely drawn to a small private college in North-Central West Virginia, where I could sing in a small Christian group AND have my school tuition handed to me. WOW! Both myself and a girl I would eventually come to know as my best friend auditioned together. Neither of us was selected. I was extremely disappointed, so I decided I wasn’t good enough and started to feel sorry for myself, again. I decided that I would stick to what I knew and attend college, get a degree in something, and get a mediocre job here in the heart of WV, where I truly didn’t want to be. Not that there was anything wrong with that, it just wasn’t what I truly wanted. It was settling for a life that I did not desire.

I really didn’t want to stay in West Virginia forever, nor did I want to attend this college that I really was not excited about, let’s call it, Marshall UniversityJ. Then one day I got a phone call, a phone call from Alderson-Broaddus College. They told me they had a spot for me in their Christian group, you know, the one I had my heart set on that paid a full tuition scholarship, yes THAT ONE! My family and friends were so proud of me. I was proud of me too! The even better news was that I would be sharing a dorm with my future best friend, who also got the same phone call! Again, all seemed right in the world. I had overcome my odds.

It was touring and singing with this group that would change my life. I still struggled with choices every day, making good ones, and bad ones. It was also touring with this group that gave me the opportunity to share that testimony four years ago in Charleston that would touch the lives of five women for sure and possibly a few others. It was my believing in myself even in my darkest hours of life that there was something better out there for me. That God had a plan for me. That He had written his name on me before I was even born. That I didn’t have to settle for a life that, while great for some of the other children I grew up with, was not a fit for me. That He had given me choices throughout my life and will continue to do so.

Now, today, as a twenty-three year old woman, I still face choices. I still remember my past and sometimes feel sorry for myself. I still make decisions that affect me, some of which will soon change my life again in a very big way. I don’t regret the road I’ve traveled. I accept the good with the bad.

Now I have a new world-- A world that I DO have in my control. I have a loving husband and my own six pound, 7 ounce tiny little girl on her way very soon. Well, I hope she’s six pounds, seven ounces, and TINY. J But, I now rejoice in the fact that from now on, my world is a choice.

I will choose to make the very best of every situation. I will choose good over evil. I will choose to learn from my mistakes. I will choose to serve God and thank Him for never abandoning me and always giving me the freedom to choose. I will trust in God’s perfect plan for my life. I will never tell myself that where I am today is as good as it gets. I will be a loyal and loving wife to my husband. I will be the encouraging and fun-loving mother to my daughter as mine was to me. Most importantly, I will continue to set higher goals and strive to reach them.

I take comfort in the fact that my life will never be predetermined for me; my life IS significant and I will always have a choice.

First Blog since...Well... Ever :-)

Okay. So, here goes....

Useless rambling... I've always been great at that. Now that I'm pregnant, this is LONG overdue.

Let's start with, last evening after work. Which came after a great day working with fund raising for the Eastern Carolina Muscular Dystrophy Association. They have me doing two different jobs there now-starting yesterday. Not only do I call business leaders and sign them up for the totally-fun-but-kind-of-lame MDA Lock-Up, but I now call as their "warden" to make sure they are raising money in preparation of lock-up day. I now am in charge of raising $15,000 by November 19. We are currently at $500. (You can see why they let the last young lady go I guess?) Regardless, I am super excited! Now on to the events of the evening...

I have been mentally preparing myself this week to spend my FIRST weekend (in the new house/new home town) almost 34 weeks pregnant and alone. Yes, "husbandless." For some women it sounds like the perfect opportunity to catch up on housework, laundry, movies, old friends... right? Wrong.

I knew I would cry a bit when Saturday afternoon came- along with the realization that I would be sleeping alone that night, but I did not expect my dingbat husband to simply NOT inform me that the goodbye would occur 7-8 hours prior than the expected afternoon. That's right, after mentioning the stupid 2 day business trip to Atlanta 3 times yesterday evening it took me outright ASKING the dreaded question. "So what time are you and Wes leaving tomorrow afternoon?" Response at approximately 7:45 pm: "Oh, Wes decided that we should leave at 8am."

Call it the building stress of bills, rent, and upcoming baby with a mix of hormonal emotion-- but I did not take this news with a smile. (But I did refrain from throwing inanimate objects and using larger-than-6-inch-voices and inappropriate, condescending language toward my husband.) Now seriously... when was he planning on telling me. He didn't forget. The matter didn't simply "not cross his mind." It was under discussion throughout the entire day. What was this man thinking--or NOT thinking? Did he want all hell to break loose at 8am that morning?

No... I simply left the room and asked him kindly not to follow me, "YOU BIG JERK."

Then came the phone call from Wes to Brian. "Oh, we're leaving at 7am now, okay," Brian whispered. Doesn't he realize pregnant women have highly developed senses?

*Enter unexplainable, uncontrollable, completely irrational whimpering, stage left.*

Did I mention that I was starving and hadn't eaten since noon? OR that I was suffering from terrible stomach cramps and backaches that had me in a morphed fetal position all night?

Needless to say, my friends... I must have woken up every hour on the hour to continue torturing my husband with moans and groans and hysterical crying until finally I gave in and allowed him to hug me at 6am this morning. Please pray for safe travel for the love of my life and father of my child. Also pray for him to return to a wife, all in one piece--no longer suffering from swollen sinuses or body aches, and no airborne foreign objects flying toward his pretty little head.

The end. :-)