To Fight Fire With Love

Ten days ago I received a phone call that I never thought I would. My sister's house was burning down and my niece was sleeping in her room where the fire started.  I've never heard that kind of fear in my sister's voice. I rushed to the scene all while praying more desperately than I had ever prayed before.  I got there, after fighting with the firemen to see my family, and ran to my sister and surprisingly happy niece as they watched the house continue to burn.  I hugged my niece harder than I should have and talked with my sister about what was happening.  A faulty heater had started the fire in my niece's room and the smoke alarm went off and warned my brother-in-law and his father about the fire.  My brother-in-law, Billy, grabbed Sophia out of her crib and by the time his father had got to the room with the fire extinguisher, it was too late to fight it.  They tried to fight the flames with the garden hose outside as they waited for the fire department and watched as their home quickly burned. This was at 11 am.

When I got there, the fire was almost out and we watched as they threw the "salvageable" items out the window that broke as they all hit the ground.  My brother-in-law's sister took Sophia to nap and to eat food, since we had no access to anything at this point; the rest of us sat on the ground and watched for hours as the firemen worked. It was around 3 or 4 before we went inside, after a group of men came and helped tarp the roof because it started to rain.  

I've never seen so much devastation in my life.  Downstairs, water was leaking everywhere through the ceiling and outlets.  Everything was covered in a darkness of soot and the smell made me nauseas.  

We made our way to the stairs, only to have our feet stick to the carpet because the heat had melted soot to the carpet. Broken glass littered the staircase and I caught my first glimpse of things that burned.  The loft, which held memories and collectibles, was destroyed. I saw nothing but piles of black and a giant hole in the wall where a window once stood.  The walls to the hallway were charred black and silver, resembling wood after a bonfire.  I felt a breeze to my left and found what was left of my niece's room.  My heart broke, imagining every possibility of "what if," if that smoke alarm hadn't gone off.  Nothing was recognizable, not a single thing in the room stood whole.  The metal to my niece's crib was half buried by soot and crumbled wood.  I watched my baby sister dig through a pile of still hot rubble, desperately searching for the only Christmas picture my sister had of Sophia last year.  I could barely keep it together and I looked through the gaping hole of a window and broken roof.  I wished in that moment to hug my niece again.

When I couldn't look any more, I turned out to the hall to see the guest room at the end of the hall.  It was disgusting.  Anything in the room was charred or covered in some sort of wood chipping from the ceiling falling in. 

I walked back toward my niece's room and turned to my sister's room.  I found her looking for things to save. We had heard the chimney collapse at one point and found half of the bricks in her room, which had fallen through the already collapsed ceiling.  Her room was black as well.  We could make out the bed, the couch, and a coffee table because it was on the opposite side of the room.  Practically everything that was on the floor was melted to the floor.  I found my niece's Christmas jammies stuck on the floor next to one of her little boots that we never found the match to.  The ceiling had been cut out and collapsed down, and the door kicked down because the fire had spread to the roof above their room.  Everything we tried to save was either black, sticky, or completely soaked.  We found my brother-in-law's work ties melted from where they were hanging. Their bed was covered in wood chips and a layer of something sticky.  We all sighed and began digging for what could be salvaged.

The outside

Loft

Room at the end of the hall

Room at the end of the hall

The roof and door fell in on my sister's room

Close to the chimney collapse

This all fell in the corner

Roof in the hall

Sister's room, left. Sophia's room, right.

Sophia's Room: where the fire started

Found color after digging in Sophia's room

The burnt wood was her crib...

The days that have followed have been a struggle, and it wasn't even my home.  I learned a lot in these last ten days, and yes I am going to tell you what that is:  

Hold tight to your loved ones.  We came so close to losing the most precious little girl, and all I kept thinking was if I had kissed her good night or told her that I loved her the night before.

Don't take what you have for granted.  Yes, they are just "things," but when you sit there and say you are hungry and realize that you don't have pans to cook dinner or plates to eat off, it's a harsh reality.  Or when you need to cloth your baby or change her diaper, and realize that her diaper bag was in her room, along with all of her comfort binkies and blankets... it's a harsh reality.

Don't let people struggle alone.  I'm not sure about my sister, but I've clung on to the last 10 days and have to spend a minimum of three hours a day with my family.  Going home alone... it's a harsh reality.

Never. Stop. Seeking. God.  As I panicked on my drive to the fire, I cried to God (quite literally).  When I picked up a photo of my niece that survived the fire, I praised God.  When I had nightmares of "what if" all night for a week, when I woke to my entire family alive, I thanked God.  When I fought with my sister in the grocery store because we had no way to cook them food and we were completely exhausted, I asked God for a solution.  He provided one.  Never. Stop. Seeking. God.  You have no idea where you would be without Him, nor do I think you want to know.

You will get more than you can handle thrown at you.... but you can handle it with God helping you, some much needed baby cuddling, and time.

I am loved by my community, whether church family, blood family, friends, family friends, and even random strangers.  I've never received as much love in this time than I have in my entire life.  Prayer, donations, love, and hugs are what have gotten my family and I through this very difficult time.  From the bottom of my heart, thank you SO much.

I took a photo the morning after the fire, capturing a moment that I never want to forget.  My sister and her boyfriend aren't married, but he is already my family.  He will be my brother-in-law, he loves my sister, he loves my niece, and I'm pretty sure his dad (Papa) loves my niece more.  I realized that amid their desperate times and struggles, there is good.  I posted a quote along with this photo that I live by.  They have found the good.

"Even on the worst days, there is a possibility for joy."

Find joy in everything, on every bad day, in every worst-case scenario.  I've lived it.  In this case, we've fought fire with love.  And we won.

To Be Healthy

January 3, 2013: The day my entire life shifted.  The first time I went to the ER.  I spent the two month prior getting sick almost every day from eating.  This trip to the hospital was the first of many. I was sent home with a doctors appointment and medication that kept me in bed all day.  I would be so tired from a Sunday at church that I would go to bed at 6 and wake up at 8 the next morning. I did tho every day for four months.  My medications kept me from driving and from being myself.  I spent the first three months in bed, only leaving my house for the doctor or to work the weekends at church.  Christie shuttled me to many appointments and Maryann found new creative ways for me to eat the non-solid food diet I had been on for months.  My job in the internship was graceful and I did half days for a while and then had to force myself into full days.  I needed my normal life back. In April I was still on a very limited diet.  I  travelled to the city because no one in small town Eureka could help me.  I was miserable.
One day I decided not to refill my medications.  I was sick of no results and taking them just to put me in a comatose at 6 every night, just so I wouldn't feel sick any more.  I was struggling to keep afloat as an intern and still trying to process that I was becoming a missionary.  I lost contact with so many friends and was trying to regain my energy just to hang out with them.
I was never formally diagnosed with anything.  Though after many conversations with the Hrdina/Kencke clan, I self-diagnosed it as stress related.  My doctor accepted it and I asked for prayer.  After praying for peace, slowly I was able to do more and more. Finally, after 4 months of struggling I was getting better; I was eating solid foods!  I felt like a newborn, growing capable of doing more every day. I did more than lay in bed and watch Netflix all day (not like I was capable of doing much else) and I was able to spend time with my friends and family.  I survived missions training, only getting sick once, and I was on my way to perfect health.
I'm not going to lie, it has been a difficult year.  I battled this illness (or whatever it really was) for a solid 6 months.  And although, in the scheme of life, it isn't long, I spent 6 miserable months just praying for a good day.  When they finally came, all I could do was cry and thank God for good health.  I still get sick every once in a while, which I guess is to be expected, but I am free to live my life as if it never happened.  So, even though I made some life altering decisions this past year, what I will be thankful and grateful for the most is my health.  2013 was half spent in sickness and half spent taking advantage of the good health I now have.  Thank you to everyone who continued to pray for me and support me through my desperate blog posts.  I am alive and well, and that is all I could ask for.

Not Alone

I grew up in a crazy home.  A house full of six people, along with 90% of my relatives living in town and the rest just a quick drive away. We could have 27 family members at our house, and that wouldn't even count the family friends!  Holidays used to be insanity. That is until recently.
When I was in high school it seemed like everything changed.  The twenty seven people turned to five or eight.  And then one year, I spent the entire Thanksgiving day alone in my room.  I hated Thanksgiving after that year.
The years after that seemed to be the same, leave home in the morning  and come back on Friday, just to avoid loneliness.  My Dad wasn't coming home, my sisters had boyfriends... what's a holiday with two people?  It seemed for a while that no one even wanted to spend the day together.  My hate for Thanksgiving grew.
I spent Thanksgiving with my Best Friend and her family for those years and a few after, making it more bearable... But then last year I found out that they wouldn't be in town and neither would either of my parents.  My hate returned.
Alone once again.
I didn't realize that God would play a major part in this.  I thought that without them I would have nothing, no where to go.  But alas, God had better plans.  I got invited to FOUR Thanksgivings.  One of them happened to be my sister, and it turned out to be a very nice early afternoon with all of my sisters and my grand parents... the first "normal" Thanksgiving in years.  I spent the rest of the day driving from my neighbors, to LeeAnn's, to Maryann's.  I was over abundantly covered in love and care.  I didn't know what to think.
And then there was this year.... SEVEN invitations.  I didn't know I deserved such love... and although I only made it to five, I am completely blown away by the generosity of those around me. A day that used to hurt so much just to wake up to, to a day where I fall asleep smiling and exhausted because I spent the day with so many people that I love.  My best friend was in town, which was such a blessing... but I realized that even if they weren't... I would have been okay.
God has definitely reassured me of something over the last year.  I. Am.  Loved.  And I am not alone.  I have so much love around me, fences being mended, relationships growing.  I have an amazing God who has and will continue to show me that He is taking care of me.  Even though I don't have my old house full of my entire family, I have that in other ways.  I have my family now, but I also have my extended family.  I love that I can say I have little brothers and sisters, and families that would love to have me over on such a special day.
So on day where I feel left out or alone, I will think of the last two Thanksgivings... a time that was once so lonely... isn't so much any more.

To Be A Bully...

In high school I was a bitch.  Not to be harsh, and please excuse my language, but that is the cold, hard truth. 

It wasn't necessarily that I called people terrible names or picked fights with other girls, but I definitely held this holier-than-thou persona. I'm no where near proud of my attitude, but it was the only thing that held me above water. 

I made people feel terrible about themselves if they didn't have an entire closet of Abercrombie & Fitch. I looked down on people who owned less than two pairs of Ugg boots or carried a purse worth less than the cheapest Dooney & Bourke purse. I scoffed if your outfit was worth less than $300. I was a materialistic snob. People who were larger than a size 2 didn't deserve my attention. 

Why? I see it now. I hated myself. I felt worthless, so I made myself worth thousands of dollars with designer brands. I couldn't handle having someone look better than me, though I felt like everyone around me did. 

I made everyone around me feel inferior. I'm not sure I succeeded, but just the thought that I made one person feel worse than I did made me feel better about myself. 

I never stole lunch money, picked a fight, or called people mean names, but I was a bully in my mind. So although I never actually told people they were nothing or told them that I looked better than them, my posture and attitude definitely spoke for me. 

It's funny, really, because I've never considered myself well-off by any standard, but somehow I was able to present myself that way. 

I didn't realize until recently how I struggled with my personal image, or, more specifically, how I projected my struggle onto others. They say that bullies hurt others because they hurt, and I hope anyone who reads this doesn't think any less of me, but I'm realizing how much of a bully I really was. 

I hated who I was, where I came from, and what I stood for... so I made others feel the same way. I hate that about myself now, but I know I can't change who I was. I went through the hardest four years of my life in high school, and although that is no excuse, I didn't have a clue as to how else to fight. 

All I can do now is change, fix what I can, and hope everything works out. And though I still struggle with this sometimes, I recognize that everyone else around me has feelings. I don't have to fight against the bullies that I fought in high school. I don't have to fight innocent bystanders. I have to fight myself and my human desire to hurt. 

I think this is where I received my call to love. I know what it feels like to hate, to be hated; I never want a single soul to ever feel like I did in high school, or to feel how I made others feel. No one deserves that. I'm fighting back. But this time I'm fighting my old self; I'm in a war against satan and the lies he tells me, and everyone else, every single day. 

We are worthy. I am. You are. Don't ever let satan or high school Teresa make you feel inferior. Whether you shop on Fifth Avenue or Goodwill. Whether you're short, tall, overweight, underweight, smart or struggle with school... A believer or not... Please know that you are loved and deemed worthy to walk on this planet. 

Choose to love, even if it is hard. You are loved, you are worthy, and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel any different. 

I hope this serves as a lesson of sorts... Whether you've been bullied, witnessed a bully, or you've been a bully yourself... People are people. They have feelings and, even if you can't see it, they have their own insecurities. You don't have to be perfect all the time. God sees you in a different light... You are His child, not the worlds. No matter what people say, God sees His creation... His love. And while I am nowhere near Christ-like, God has shown me that love is the only way to concur evil. Fight with love and not hate. That's what Jesus would want and that's all I ask.   

To Overcome

"This is the call to all the dead and disappointed, The ones who feel like they are done, This a word to all the ones who feel forgotten but you are not...  Lord if you can use us Fill us up, Let us feel your love Rush over us."

Alive by Brothers McClurg

I was that kid.  The one who didn't want to be around. I couldn't find use for myself, except as a waste of space.  I didn't fit, I couldn't see where I belonged.  
It's funny to me now as I look back and see how I suffered.  I suffered because I could never quite see what was right in front of me.
I felt alone, beaten, ugly, unwanted.  I had this vision in my head of how life would be like without me, how people would enjoy the space away from me.  It's terrible to say I laugh at my stupidity and pain that I endured. It was true pain and I suffered tremendously.  At fifteen years old I was suffering every single day from depression, self-hate, and stomach pains that never ceased from my constant hunger. But I think back at how much I suffered and realize that I didn't need to.  God was right there, whether I accepted it or not.  He considers me. Of all people, I am His.  It took nearly 7 years for me to get that.  
Consider the lilies of the field & notice how much more your heavenly father loves you. Matthew 6:28

As it turns out, I had a purpose.  And yet, at sixteen and seventeen I dwelled on where I didn't fit.  I found parties, I met guys... I never crossed too many lines because I constantly had the nagging feeling in the back of my mind with God telling me He cared for me.  I could never get myself to truly "rebel."  I made a million mistakes, but I was the farthest from rebellion in my school.  I wore expensive clothes and pulled the "I'm better than you" act in high school.  I pulled it off well, only to realize that after graduation no one cared.  I was lost once again.

I threw my mind into college and athletics, killing myself with unhealthy choices and struggling to get through my parents soon to end marriage.  I fell apart as my family split, leaving me alone while my sisters seemed to reject me. I watched my Dad find himself.  I watched my Mom drive away.  I blamed myself.  It's been messy.  Truth?  I can't fix the broken, only God can.  2 years later I see it... then?  I was the worst kid in the world.  And then I watched my sister go through divorce and vowed to never get to that point in my life.  Failure became my biggest fear.  

And then it happened.  I failed myself.  The only person l had left was me... I had all but given up on God as my family fell apart and I lost it.  I was heading down a very steep hill of destruction.  For the first time I am putting this into words... I was planning to leave for a year on my own... I was scheduled to head to an eating disorder rehab center of sorts.  I told no one in my family.  I cried every day.  I didn't want to be here, I didn't want the world to see me. 

One day though, one day I just decided "no."  For some reason I had this longing to fight for the first time in five years.  What pulled me up?  Who got me on my feet, swaying in a fighting position?  The only thing I can say is that it is only possible that God picked me up, picked up my broken heart, and slowly started to put it back together.  

I was back in school, struggling to stay afloat.  I was volunteering at church.  I was social.  I ate.  I kept it down.  I had more than two friends, real friends... For the first time in a long time.  Ones who I could tell the truth to.  Leaders who kept me on track.  No more lies, no more secrets.  

I became an intern less than six months after my parents divorce... and in those two years, my relationship with God has been altered forever.  I have my family to stand with, who I even talk to about God.  Who I love and want to spend every minute with.  Who I miss.  

I have received my purpose.  To Love. Because He first Loved us.  I love my family.  I love my friends. I love people. The plan is to go to Russia as soon as possible.  If you told me this two and a half years ago I would have told you that would have to take a miracle.  And I would be right.  Because if I look back at where I was those two and a half years ago... at the end of my biggest struggles, I break.  How the hell did I do that? I didn't.  Simple as that.  God had me, has me in the palm of His loving hands.

I say this as a testimony of sorts.  But really I just wanted to tell people just how AMAZING My God is that He considers me, you, the world.  I see what He has done for us, the forgiveness He has spread in the world, the sacrifice He has made for me, and I ask why.  Oh, How He Loves....

I want to close with this... There is a light.  And whether it be in a mentor, a family member, friend or in your own heart.  Recognize that it is God and He will be the One to pull you out, He will help YOU overcome the world, just as He did.  Take comfort in the fact that you are not alone.


 “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
John 16:33

Goodbye

I don't want to hate myself. I don't want to hate my choices or what I'm doing. I don't want people to hate me. I don't want my family to hate me. I don't want my friends to hate me. This is probably a completely conceided idea that people will be hurt that I'm leaving or that they might actually miss me, but I don't want them too. Because that means I've let them down. I know what it feels like to be left, whether for good reasons or bad. And I don't want to be that sister who leaves once my niece is born or that can't keep in contact because of the time difference. I want to be in the same time zone, same town, 5 minutes away. And I don't want people to hate that I am gone. I don't necessarily want to leave, but GO. I'll be back so I'm excited and I cannot wait to go. However, the preconceived notion I had that this would be easy was so completely wrong. My biggest obstacle? Goodbye. 

That one word. 

Sure. It's a year. But it's a year. 

My nieces' first, second, and fifth year. 

I have kids who hate that I'm going. It feels good that I'll be missed, but damn it hurts so much. I don't want to disappoint anyone. 

I know that once I get there and I've made it through the goodbye process that I'll see all of the good. I see good now, more than good. But it's so blurry because all I can see right now is goodbye. 

I've said goodbye to more people in the last month than I have in over 5 years. This doesn't make it easier. 

I cannot wait to see what God has in store, I just really need to get past this fear of goodbye. 

It's a risk I'm taking, I've never really taken risks. Ever. 

But I know this is the right risk. Waiting is harder and a bigger challenge, that much I have become aware of. 

I'm so afraid of missing out on my life in Eureka, but I've realized that I have my life in Russia too. A different one. The thrill is there... The change is basically my entire life... And I'm so afraid.... But I can't wait. 

I've always been told that fear is good because it means you have something to lose. I don't have "too much" to lose, per say, but I do have a lot to lose. God has really challenged my heart when it comes to giving up everything (one) for His ministry and I really see how He has prepared me for this.... But I still can't get past goodbye. It's only a year. One year. I can make it. 

My Biggest Obstacle

I'm scared. To be more specific, I am absolutely terrified. This is normal, they say. It feels normal. But I don't want to feel this way. I want to leave psyched and ready to go. I don't want to leave feeling like I do now. 

I don't want to say goodbye. I'm taking no one with me. I'm 22 years old and the longest I have been away from home is 2 weeks. I cannot imagine that again, let alone a freaking year. 

This is going to be the hardest thing I have ever done. I picture hugging my sister goodbye and I'm a bloody mess. (Like right now) I'm already sobbing. I don't want to say "bye bye" to my nieces. They expect to see me less than 2 days later. I can't even imagine what they will think after a few weeks. Will they miss me, or will they think I forgot them? I never want them to ever feel abandoned or forgotten, but they don't have phones or the capability of understanding what I am doing. My little sister is my best friend and I don't want her to think I'm leaving her. I don't want to leave her. I'd freaking pack her and Sophia in my suitcase if it wasn't such a long flight. 

Goodbye is literally the one thing stopping me. One word. I can't say it, I can't even wave. I'm thinking about the next 90 days and how the big goodbye could be any time between then and now. And currently I can't stop crying!

It is very clear that I am supposed to go. God has most certainly turned the light from red to green. I'm waiting for it to turn yellow, to slow time down, but it is so clear that I'm going through. 

I just.... I don't want to let go. I finally have my family and I feel like I have spent the last 10 years trying to get that... And as soon as everything is perfect, I lose them. I'm leaving them behind and I'm not even sure they get why. Right now, they are all I have. My best friends live 2 states away and I spend most of my time with my sisters and neighbors. My Monday night family dinners are going to stop. I won't be here for Christmas... My first time away for any holiday... I won't see my new niece grow up... She won't even know who I am when I come back. And that hurts. My heart hurts so much. 

I'm sure I'm being absolutely dramatic in the eyes of anyone reading this... But I could lose everything in this life but God and people and I would be okay. I can't lose my family.... And I've never been able to say that. I don't want to leave them. 

This is me expressing my bare soul right now... I needed to get it out. 

I am expressing my biggest obstacle in saying "yes". I knew what it meant to say yes, and right now I think it is just hitting home. So for now, I'm going to take advantage of every moment. Hug my nieces, laugh with my sister. Call my Dad. Text my Mom. Play video games with my neighbors... And figure out how in the freaking world I'm going to say goodbye without crying the entire flight to Russia. 

I'm giving this to God, this fear. But it doesn't mean I won't keep crying. If anyone has advice, please feel free to comment. Anyone else, if you don't mind, please just pray for my heart.