Life Outside the Church Walls

Spiritually I'm struggling.

Growing up I've been the granddaughter and a niece of two great pastors.  I'm even a deacon's kid.  I've helped run the powerpoint at church since I was about 7-years-old (or, back then, I helped run the overhead projector with transparencies).  When I was 12-years-old, I became interested and involved in missions - going on my first mission trip when I was 15...going on one almost every year since.  In 2012, I even spent 6 months overseas helping a mission organization.  In between all these activities, I have done other things, such as write articles for Christian magazines, been involved in different leadership activities, and I like hanging out with the youth group when I have the free time.  I've even attended the same church since all my life, minus my time at Bible College and my time overseas...and that's only a portion of my church resume.  (Please note - I am not saying all of this to brag in any way at all.  I'm just wanting to give you a history and background of my life so you have a better understanding, and so you can see that even those who grew up in church and those who have done many church activities can still struggle spiritually.)

In the midst of all of that "churchy" type of stuff, life outside of the church walls has taken place.  If you've been following my blog or my Facebook page, you know my story, at least, the part of my story that has taken place in the last 3 years.  Between the death of my baby niece, the near-death of my father (3 times in one year) and his poor health, and many other family emergencies, life has not been easy...Not to mention the things I haven't, and can't, Facebook or blog about.

Being a "church girl", I know my hope shouldn't be based on my circumstances.  But, when circumstance after circumstance is one bad thing after another - it's becomes harder and harder not to lose hope.  Mentally I know my hope ought to be in God alone.  Emotionally and human wise, sometimes my hope becomes divided.

I think my spiritual struggle first started a little bit when I was 15, when my dad became really sick for the first time.  Then, I think I was okay for a while, until 2011 --- when everywhere I would look my life seemed to be turning upside down.  I went to London in 2012, even after a rather traumatic year, and was incredibly blessed.  There is no doubt in my mind that I was suppose to be in London when I was - and I thank God for my time there, the spiritual growth I experienced, and for the amazing team I was blessed to work with.

Then I came home from Germany after this most recent summer.  Coming home from Deutschland, I was not in a good place.  At all.  (I even posted a blog about struggling after my return.)  I wasn't, and am still not, the same girl I was when I left.   I figured after a month or so of being home, I'd snap out of the funk I was in and would get back to "normal".  But I haven't.   I've dealt with anxiety, depression, the desire to isolate myself, and self conflict...and my relationship with God hasn't gone unaffected.

I've been home for a little over two months now...Yet, I know I'm still not myself.  I am still struggling spiritually and emotionally.  I came home totally and completely broken.  And although I've been home for 2 1/2 months, it wasn't until about two weeks ago when for the first time, I verbally admitted to someone that I was, and am not, okay spiritually.

I feel extremely tired, worn down, weary, and spiritually dry.

Many Sundays I haven't even wanted to go to church.  I've gone for the service, but I've just about completely stopped going to Sunday School...and that's not a normalcy for me.  The thing is, it's not that I don't believe in God - because I definitely believe in Him still.  I've just been struggling.

The other week I told someone that I would pray for them.  Then it hit me, "When was the last time I even prayed?"  Then I wondered, "Have I stopped praying because I've lost hope through the last few years of hardships?"  Sometimes it seems as though all that comes my way, and my family's way, are hardships...and that's a tiring process to go through time and time again.

But why did it take me so long to admit to someone that I was struggling spiritually?  I've told people with ease that emotionally I've struggled in the last few years.  That, for me, is an easy thing to admit to.  But when it comes to telling people that spiritually something just isn't right in my life?  That's hard to share.  Oddly enough, I find it easier to tell people that I've been in and out of counseling and therapy than it is for me to tell them that my relationship with God isn't where it should be.  When I opened up to someone for the first time about my deep and personal struggle, it wasn't even to anyone I am close to.  It was to a retreat speaker that  spoke at a retreat in September during a drive to take her to the airport...I talked to someone who barely knows me, my story, and someone I barely know myself.

Maybe it was easier to talk to someone I hardly knew because she was someone who doesn't know my history, who looks at me as just me and not as the girl in leadership, or as the "girl who goes on mission trips".  I felt less pressure to hold up to a standard that I feel I sometimes have to reach - whether that's just a standard I've given myself, or a standard other people expect me to meet.

Overall, I think I've kept quiet for so long because because I have felt incredibly embarrassed about the issue.  Here I am, the granddaughter and niece of pastors...A girl who has attended church all her life, has always been involved in multiple church activities, has been a short-term missionary, and leadership positions...You get the idea.

I should have it all together, even through the hardships...Right??  Well, I haven't...and I don't....and I've put a lot of pressure on myself to be "that Christian girl" who continues to play all the same parts, not wanting to clue anyone in on my ongoing battle.  And truth be told - pretending I have it all together when I don't...Well, it's exhausting...and sometimes I feel as though I'm just going through the motions with a weary and frustrated spirit.

It's not that I enjoy struggling with my relationship with God.  In fact, I hate that this has been a big struggle of mine for the last several months.  More specifically, I hate that it has gotten worse in the last couple of months.  But more importantly, I really dislike that I've let it gotten to this point, not knowing what to do, and not telling others sooner.

I really miss feeling refreshed, and my passion and zeal for God.  Even more so, I miss having the relationship with God that I use to have.

If anyone has noticed my struggle - I'm unaware.  No one has said a thing to me about it, although I wish someone would have if they took notice to my internal battle.  It's a hard thing to go through alone, not knowing what to do.  I've noticed red flags and changes in my own behavior (such as not attending Sunday School), and I can't imagine no one else noticing.  Then again, maybe I'm a better actress than I thought when it comes to hiding what I've been ashamed about.

Do I feel ashamed to admit to a spiritual battle because of pressure I put on myself, or because it comes across as a taboo subject??  Why, as Christians, do we have a hard time admitting to one another that we don't always have it together spiritually?  That our relationship with God isn't always at it best?   Why do we find the need to hide this part of our life, when what we need is to be open about it so that others know how to better pray for and help us?  To keep us accountable?  After all, our church family and Christian friends have all probably been here/there themselves, and (hopefully) want what is best for us - physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

So, here I am being honest, once again.

In the last few months especially, and even throughout the last few years (on and off), I have struggled.  I've been in and out of depression after many hard life circumstances...And I've never really healed from anything that has happened in the last few years.

Although I firmly believe that recent events have a lot to do with my current struggles, I know they aren't the only cause.  In my heart, I know that the struggle is the result of an accumulation from the last few years and recent life experiences.  The most recent issues just seem to be the cherry on top of it all, and I'm just tired.

If you're struggling emotionally and/or spiritually - I encourage you to tell someone you trust.  (Although, I've noticed if you struggle with one, more than likely you also struggle with the other.)  Once you open up to one person, and once you say it aloud for the first time, it is easier to be honest about it and face it.  By opening up with just one person, it instantly took a lot of pressure off of myself - and now I've even found myself opening up to you here in my blog - even though I'm not sure how any of this will be taken by those who read this.

Once you open up with someone - make a plan.  I'm still working on a plan to get myself in a better place with my relationship with God.  I'm working on healing, and not running and ignoring things that I know I need to deal with.  I'm trying to be proactive by talking to a couple of mentors I know on the phone (as sadly, they live out of the state of California), and I'm seeing a local counselor for a few issues - my spiritual battle being one of them.

I've also been learning to tell others that for now, I can't take on any jobs at the church because I know I need to focus on me and God before I can take on any responsibilities.  If I were to take on any jobs right now, I would be cheating God and the church because I'm not where I need to be to take anything on.

Ironically, I'm 22 and have grown up in church, and yet, I still am lost as to the best way to get to where I need to be...But I know that admitting to where I am currently at and knowing where I want to be is definitely a good start.

Sure, I have two pastors in my family, have been a leader, been involved in many church things, and have gone on many mission trips. But I am human.  I have emotions and I experience life.  I'm not immune to possible struggles, physical, emotional, or spiritual...and I shouldn't feel ashamed, embarrassed, or even guilty about these struggles - as I've allowed myself to feel.

When I get responses from people about my blog, I always like hearing that people love how I am open and honest through my writing.  I figure, the more open and honest I am, the more I can truly connect with you, my readers.  Maybe through my writing, you'll know you're not alone in an experience, or maybe you leave my blog feeling encouraged or hopeful.  Sometimes the opposite happens as well.  Sometimes, when I hear from you (which I LOVE comments left, or emails I receive), and I hear your stories, I sometimes realize and learn that I'm not alone, and I often am encouraged by your responses.

By hiding this from you all, I have felt like a lying impostor posing as "that chick", seeming to come across as having it all together - even when I don't.  But here I am...Telling you, being honest with myself, and owning up to the fact that I don't always have it together - and right now I definitely don't.  Right now, I'm just trying process and attempting to figure some things out.

I've spent the last few weeks debating on posting a blog entry like this one...Not knowing how it will be received by others.  As I have gone back and forth on the idea of posting this entry, I've wondered, "Will people judge me for my struggle?  Will they think my struggle is stupid?  Will people see me in a different and negative light?  Will anyone even understand??"

Truth is, it doesn't really matter what others think about where I'm at in life - and I shouldn't worry about it.  It's a real battle and it's my life story.  Why should I hide where I am at?  I'm now less concerned about what others think about my struggle, and more concerned about getting back to where I know I should me…Where I know I want to be with God.

No matter how it's received by strangers, family, or friends, I can't hide the truth any longer.  I have to be honest...and really I feel like it needs to be posted.  I want to continue to stay open and honest through my entries - because odds are, realistically...I'm probably not alone.

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal

Breaking Down the Box

I have a cool story to share from my week working at the elementary school.

A few days ago, I was out at recess monitoring some kids from the 3rd and 4th grade classes.  Overall, the children were mostly behaving - and that was enjoyable for me!  As I was scanning the playground, a young, worried looking boy ran up to me and said, "Ms. Crystal, my friend is making fun of you!"  I asked him, "Why is that?"  He replied, "He's making fun of you because of your birthmark!"  

Woah!!...What??  How much courage did it take for that young boy to tell me that his own friend was making fun of me?  Again - this is a boy in the 3rd or 4th grade!  I can't even begin to explain how impressed I was by his courage and maturity.

Not really sure how to handle the situation - especially since I didn't hear his friend making fun of me myself - I just asked the boy the name of his friend, their room number, and teacher's name.

Thankfully, it was a teacher that I have known for a few years now and have seen on and off during my campus visits before being hired as an NTA (noontime assistant).  It made it easier for me to talk comfortably with her about the issue, since I didn't know how that kind of situation should be handled.  

When I spoke with her, I told her about the boy who talked to me at recess.  She apparently was already made aware of the situation by some of her other students.  But, I told her, "I don't really know how to handle this, but as the boy's teacher, I wanted you to be aware that it was said.  I'm not upset - I didn't even hear what was said...And I know that kids do this kind of thing.  Kids will be kids!  But, if you ever want me to come to your classroom to share about it and to let them ask any questions they may have - just let me know!  I'd be happy to do so."  She made sure to let me know that she would talk with the child and make sure it was handled on her end.

Usually at recess, kids are asking me questions almost everyday.  Because of the many questions I receive, knowing I'm going to have another laser treatment in November (which  really encourages more questions), and now knowing that there was an issue of a child making fun of me, I sent the principal of the school (who is actually my former 4th grade teacher) a message.

I basically said the same to her as I told the teacher just moments earlier, but in a little more detail, "Hey! I meant to talk to you today but you seemed busy and I had to run to class. However, I was made aware today by one of the students that one of his friend was making fun of me because of my birthmark. No worries - I'm not upset or anything by it, I didn't even hear what was said. That's what kids do and I talked to his teacher about it.  But I just wanted to say - if any of the teachers want or need me to, I am always more then willing to go to their classrooms to teach the kids about it and to let them ask all their questions.  I'd rather help them understand it as curious children than to let them grow up to be rude adults. So, if the teachers ever want me to visit their classrooms for a few minutes - I can always come in early before my shift or on certain days I can visit after my shift is over. I'm more than willing, so they can just let me know."

She told me she would email all the teacher's about my offer.  About three hours later, she messaged me back saying she had 9 responses from teachers telling her that they would love for me to come share with their classes.  As of right now, I don't know the current count of all the teachers who want me to come in, but I was really amazed at at least 9 said yes.  It was unexpected for me - but it makes me happy and excited to have a chance to talk and share with the children.  I'm not really sure how much I am of "teacher material" - but to have the chance to try to impact children for just 10 or 20 minutes (or however long the teachers have me share and probably depending on how many questions I receive)...Wow.  What a cool opportunity!   

Today I had a few teachers tell me that they've emailed me to find out when I'm available to come and speak with their students.  (Teacher's I've never met even told me "hello" today by name...and I don't even wear a name badge, as I'm still waiting to get one.)  From the looks of it, I'll have the chance to share with children as young as 4-years-old to children in the 6th grade.  

In the last day, this whole thing had me wondering...Why doesn't the school system have a set up for people who are "different" from societies "normal"...Those who don't quite fit into that very stupid, small, and specific box that society wants people to fit into, come to speak to children?  You know...Those like me, with birthmarks on their faces...Or even those who are Deaf, blind, in wheel chairs, or amputees.  I can promise you that I'm not the only one who deal with issues from strangers...And I'm certainly not the only one willing to help teach others the beauty in being who I am, and to educate them about why I am the way I am.

In my personal experiences, I deal with a many rude adults...sometimes just once a week, but sometimes on a daily basis.  Between staring, stupid questions***, and rude comments...I have to deal with this a lot!

If we talk to people while they are still children, we can give them an easy way to teach them to be curious in a kind manner.  We can teach them appropriate ways to ask questions, and tell them it's not kind to stare.  More importantly, maybe we could tear down any possible future stereotypes that people have for those who physically look different, are in a wheel chair, are blind, or Deaf.

Here is an example of my own idea:  Yesterday evening, for a class assignment, I was able to interview a super sweet lady who happens to be Deaf.  One question that a friend and I asked her was, "What is one of your pet peeves of hearing people?"  Part of her reply was something along the lines of, "Hearing people often assume that because I'm Deaf, that means I am dumb and stupid.  I'm not."

Using this portion of the interview I had with the lady, let's say that later on, a child (let's call her Mary) hears their friend say something rude about a Deaf person, by calling them "dumb" or "stupid".  What if, instead of easily being able to laugh along at another person's expense because of influences of others who do the same, or accept the negative stereotypes and look down upon others for being Deaf, or someone else "different" in any other way...What if, when Mary hears their friends making fun of someone and can think, "Well, that's not true.  I remember when I was 8-years-old, and a Deaf man came into my classroom and shared with us about his life being Deaf...and he was far from being stupid!!  He's even a teacher at a university, is married, and has 3 or 4 children."

And then what if, from there, Mary can correct and influence her friend to think differently about others??

Maybe my idea is wrong.  Maybe it's right.  Either way, it's my two cents from a life time of 22-years of experiences.

Really, overall, I think people say and do things because they feel uncomfortable by situations and things that they aren't use to being around or seeing.  What if we made the children of today aware of other people and their really cool lives and unique experiences?   What if we taught them while they are young, how to act and treat others properly - regardless of they way they look, act, their race, if they can hear or not, if they can walk or use a wheel chair for assistance, or if they can see or can't see??  

Whether the person be blind, an amputee, in a wheel chair, Deaf, or has a birthmark on their face...Let's teach children that these aren't people to look down on and treat like they are any less than themselves, but these are incredibly beautiful people we can look up to for inspiration and as great role models.

Let's break down that box that the world has made for all of us to fit into.  We're all unique and special people, and we definitely weren't put on this earth to be put into a box - no matter of who we are, or even for who we aren't. 

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal


***When I referred to an adult's questions being stupid, really, I don't think that any question is stupid.  People are curious and that's a natural part of being human, whether you're a child, teen, young adult, or older person.  I just feel as though the way adults usually handle seeing my birthmark for the first time handle it in a stupid manner.  They can ask about it, I'd love to help them learn about it!  But sadly, instead of maturely and kindly asking about my birthmark, they either stare, or usually ask about it in the weirdest or in a rude way...And that?  That's what I find to be stupid.  When kids ask me crazy questions?  Well, they're kids.  I've never viewed their ways of asking as stupid, as they are genuinely curious and really have the sweetest intentions as they learn how to properly ask questions.  They are, after all, children. ***

A Home to Return to

Recently I met at Starbucks with a couple of friends of mine.  One friend in particular was asking me how many more laser treatments I would need for my birthmark.  Responding, I told her something like, "I don't know.  I can stop when I want to stop or I can keep going.  I had them as a child but decided to stop when I was about 11-years-old, and my mom said, 'okay', and let me stop.  When I was about 18-years-old, I told my mom I wanted to continue - and she told me 'okay' again, and I continued."  She said something to the effect of, "You have a good mom who supports you and your decisions."

And that's the thing.  I do have a good mom.  In fact, I have a great mom who supports me and my decisions...and recently, I've realized how I sometimes take her - and my dad - for granted.

Lately I've been reminded more and more about how blessed I am to have my parents in my life.  During the last few weeks, I keep hearing stories of people who don't have such a great support system in their lives.

I have friends who don't want to go home, because if they do, they have to "deal with their family".  I have friends who's parents aren't kind to them with their words, who put their child (my friend) down.  My friends have parents who tell their children that they aren't pretty enough, thin enough, or that they deserve to become sick, they deserve to go through an emotional hard time, etc, etc.

In my ASL (American Sign Language) classes I learn of stories of children who are Deaf who have gone through horrendous medical experiments, therapies, and treatments - even when they requested that they stop.  (This happened/happens when parents are new to having a Deaf child and rely on doctors for advice.  The parents want what is best for their child, but what they are told to do by their doctors doesn't always end up being the best option.)  My teachers, friends, and classmates who are Deaf share what it is like to grow up Deaf in a hearing family...Being left out of conversations, social activities, and being left completely alone.  One friend even shared that his mother left the family when they found out he was deaf.

The other week, I was with a group that included 6 of my friends (two friends are Deaf, the other four are hearing).  We were trying to figure out who all wanted to go to Wal-Mart, so we asked both the hearing and Deaf friends in the group if they wanted to to to the store.  If we all went, we would take two cars, as we all wouldn't fit into one.  If some wanted to stay at the apartment until we got back, we only need to take one vehicle.  One of my Deaf friends responded, "I don't need to go.  I'm use to being alone.  I'm use to my family leaving me out."  Needless to say - we took two cars and made sure that all 6 of us went to the store together that night.

Two weekends ago I also went to see The Deafhood Monologues.  The monologues included many true stories based on experiences and the history of Deaf culture and people, but one story particular stood out to me...and has come to my mind everyday since the performance.

During the monologues, actress Shira Gravelsky presented a (true) story of a woman who went to an adoption agency.  The woman that Shira played met a young girl who loved to draw - regardless of the fact that she was missing fingers.  Shira's character spoke to someone in charge, asking if the little girl was born without her fingers.  To her character's surprise, the little girl's current condition was not to be faulted due to her development in the womb or due to a birth problem.  It was faulted by a recent, tragic, life event.

The little girl was born deaf.  She learned to do some sign language, but then her parents took her to a doctor who dubbed signing and ASL as bad.  The doctor insisted that the parents push oralism and speech therapy on the child - and told them not to let their daughter sign or use ASL.

Her parents tried to get her to go oral, but she continued to sign.  Her dad became infuriated and one day yelled, "Is she signing again??  Is she?  Make her stop!  Make her speak!...Is she signing??  Make her put her hands out!"  So, the child was forced to lay out her hands - and bam!  Her father took a knife and cut off all his child's fingers.  (The child's parents went to jail.)

I listen to stories like this and my heart breaks.  I listen to my friends talk about their strained relationships with their parents who aren't very kind, and I become extremely saddened.  My heart has broken so many times during the last two months as I hear stories in class or through new friends.  All the people I've heard share about their poor home life are such beautiful people, and I can't imagine how their parents don't see the beauty in their own children, or how they don't accept their child as they are.  Hearing about all of these stories and experiences...I am reminded of how lucky and blessed I am to have the parents that I have.

When it comes to my health and to my body, my parents have never forced me to do anything I haven't wanted to do.  Like with my laser treatments.  If I want to have them, they're okay with it.  My mom even drives me to and from - 3 hours each direction.  If I want to stop the treatments, they are okay with that too.  And when I was diagnosed with chronic pain at the age of 12?  My parents made sure that I got the best treatment possible to help relieve as much of the pain as possible.

If I need help with friend situations or need advice of any kind, I know I can trust my parents.  I know they'll think rationally and not attempt to feel bad about any of the situations.  They try to encourage me through their advice.  They're not afraid to be honest with me if I'm in the wrong or need correcting, but they correct me in love and in a tender way in hopes of helping me grow as a person through the situation.

My parents have let me travel the world without them since I was 15-years-old.  They want me to travel, understanding that the world is a big and unique place.  They've encouraged me to spend 6 months in London, and supported me when I wanted to go to Japan to help with the disaster relief efforts after the tsunami hit.  Even though the tsunami and issues Japan was having with the nuclear plants and radiation made my parents a little nervous, they knew I felt like I need to go and they trusted in God to keep me safe.

When I decided to move to Germany for 6 months, my parents let me make my own decision and told me it was a good, once in a life time oppurtunity.  When I decided it was best for me to come home from Germany 4 months early, my parents were once again in full support.  They welcomed me home with wide-open arms and picked me up from the airport.

Whenever my parents see an area I become interested in, they encourage me to persue my new interest.  If I enjoy a new hobby, they support me.  My dad, after all, is the one who surprised me when I was 13-years-old as he bought me my first SLR camera - seeming completely at random at the time.  I remember coming home from school, seeing a Nikon D50 on the table, and asking my dad, "Who's is that??"  He told me, "It's yours."  I don't even remember asking for a camera.  Asking him tonight why he bought the camera for me, he recalled realizing my growing interest in creating videos and thought I needed a better camera to help me out in the new hobby.  Little did he know how much photography would become part of my life!

And in college...Even when I change my major for the 3rd or 4th time, my parents always insist that they want me to major in what I love, what I'm passionate about, and what makes me happy.

My parents have accepted that I am living my life and am trying to live it to the fullest.  They've stuck with me through the good times, and the most trying times.  They even try to give me experiences that they possibly didn't have themselves as a child or young adult.

I just can't imagine having parents who don't accept me for who I am.  I can't imagine having parents who ignore me, or force me to do things I don't want to do, or who make me feel ugly and awful about myself.  I've been blessed with parents who are patient, kind, encouraging, accepting, and who have instilled that beauty runs much deeper than skin deep.  They've taught me to be proud of who I am, even through my differences.

My life could have been extremely different had I been born into a different, less supportive family...And I just want to thank my parents.

Thanks, mom and dad.  Thank you for being great, supportive, encouraging, and loving parents.  Thank you for being parents that I enjoy spending time with.  I hope that if I ever become married, and have children, that I am half as great as you two.

Thank you for giving me a home that I want to return home to at night.

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal

Stranger Reactions

This is right before the treatment
started...I know, I know...I got to
wear some pretty stylin' eye protectors.

This last Friday I was able to have another laser treatment on my birthmark.  Although I've had about 35 treatments, I'm always amazed to see how insecure they often make me feel.

I know to most people, my birthmark gives me a unique look that isn't very common.  People tell me this all the time by their stares alone.  However, I am use to my birthmark.  It's my normal.  Or, at least, it's my normal until I have a laser treatment...And then my confidence is out the window as insecurity and self-concious thoughts invade my mind.  After a treatment, I am very aware that I have a birthmark that covers half my face, both because of physical discomfort and the image I see when I look into a mirror.  I am also a lot more aware and sensitive to people's stares.

When I have my laser treatments, I try to spend the first two or three days hiding out in my house as my dark purple face covered in slimy Vaseline has time to heal.  If I had it my way, I wouldn't leave my house until my birthmark was back to it's normal coloring, or at least until I could wear makeup comfortably.

Fun fact: If you were to go with me to my
appointment, you are allowed to go back
with me and watch the treatment...which only
takes about 10 minutes.  Doesn't
my mom rock the look??

After a treatment, I avoid going into situations where I have to be around a lot of people.  The idea of going to school - or even to church - is something I dread...and will often skip if I can.  Usually I'm okay with smaller groups of people, but mostly small groups of very specific people that I am just about 100% comfortable with.  (If you saw me anytime before Monday, know I feel extremely comfortable with you!)  Also, if someone wants to take a picture or video with me in it - forget about it.  Except for my initial "here I am after my treatment photos", until my skin is back to normal, or until I can wear make up, I really try to avoid any visual recording devices.   

Even though I would love to hide out after my treatments, life apparently goes on and I don't always get to hide out.  I still have to go to school and I have to go to work. (Oh yeah! I got a job!  One that I love, by the way!  More on that in the next paragraph.)  So, I put on my big girl pants and attempt to wear a face of my normal level of confidence.  (Although, I'm not sure if confidence is what comes across to others, or if others see the opposite of my goal.)

Recently I was hired at a local elementary school.  I go every weekday, usually an hour each day, helping with monitoring children at their lunch time.  Before my treatment, some of the children asked me questions about it, but surprisingly - not very many.  

After each laser treatment I have, my birthmark is discolored.  It's a much darker purple, and doesn't really look too great.  Luckily this only lasts about a week or two, but I definitely get more questions after a treatment in comparison to when I look like my normal, unique, self.  Today, four days after my treatment, was no exception...Especially since I work with young children.

Today I got to work an extra hour at the school.  Within my two hours of working, I think I got asked more questions about my birthmark by all the children than what I think I've been asked during my whole life.  Being asked many questions, I hope I answered the kids clearly and in a way where they understood what I said, and I hope they felt comfortable enough to ask me all the questions they wanted to ask.  

It surprised me to notice one of my coworkers becoming so upset by the staring eyes and questions I received from the children.  I realize he's not use to other people's reactions like I am, as I saw the children as curious and he saw them as rude, but I am glad I was able to solve the mystery of some of the kid's curiosity.  (Granted, the children really were staring quite a bit and some were making exaggerated facial expressions...And although I'm use to a child's curiosity, questions, and staring, I'm not quite use to handling such a high volume of such curious children at one time.)

I was able to handle 252 laser pulses
this time around!  The laser was also set on a
higher setting in comparison to my previous
visit.

As a teacher brought her students to the cafeteria, they were also staring, making noises, faces of shock (some of horror), talking about me, or asking me questions directly.  The teacher took it upon herself to take charge of the situation, and very sweetly explained to her class, "This nice lady has a birthmark on her face. It's something she was born with and she is a very beautiful person with or without it.  You can ask her about it, but we don't need to stare or make noises.  Staring isn't a nice thing to do - as you guys wouldn't want to be stared at either."  I've never even met this specific teacher before, but I was very impressed, amazed, and thankful for the way she handled her class's reactions.  She allowed the children to be curious, but taught them to be curious in a kind way.  (Sadly, I didn't get a chance to thank her!)

Usually a conversation about my birthmark is started by a child asking me, "What is that on your face?  What happened?"  As I want people, children especially, to feel welcome to ask me about my difference, I try to answer the best way I can, "It's just a birthmark.  I was born with it and have had it since I was a baby.  Do you have a birthmark??"  Sometimes the child will tell me about their own birthmark, or about their sibling's birthmark - and then the conversation ends.  However, sometimes the conversations go a little further.

Here is a handful of the questions and comments I received this afternoon (most of these are from the 6 and 7 year olds I met):

• "Is that really a birthmark?"
• "Oh, I thought that was makeup or paint or something."
• "You were stung by a bee...Huh??"
• "Can I get one?!??!"  (And no - this question wasn't asked in a way indicating, "Is that contagious or something?"  It was asked with genuine indication that the child wanted to have one too.)
• "Did someone hit you?"
• "I saw this thing on TV that could help you."
• "It's too big."
• "Does it hurt?"
• "Will it ever go away?  Do you want it to go away?"
• "You were born with it????"  Then looking even more confused, the child continued, "Wait...You were a baby??"
• "Were you bit by a spider?"

Again, those are just a few examples of the many conversations I had today...Many of which left me laughing - a lot!  (Although, I must say, I think my favorite conversation from my day was when a 6 year old little girl offered me medical advice.)

Not only do my treatments bring questions and comments from children, but from adults as well.  Sometimes the questions are asked by strangers, some are asked by teachers, family members, or friends.  Here are some of the questions I've received this week from the older population, along with my answers or response:

• "How many treatments have you had?  How long have you had them?"
• On Friday we estimated that I've had about 35 treatments.  Possibly more.  I've had them since I was a baby.  I took about a 7 or 8 year break starting when I was 11 years old because the doctors started to have me stay awake for the treatments - and quite frankly - that's a bit scary and uncomfortable for such a young age.  In addition, the treatments weren't working as well as they had in the past, so it also wasn't worth continuing.  Now that I have continued having the laser surgeries, I can have them about every 8 weeks, but it can take up to 6 months to see the complete success of each treatment.
• "Are the treatments something that your parents persuade or pressure you to do?"
• I can easily answer this question with a no.  My parents do not persuade or pressure me to have these treatments in any way.  In fact, when I was 11 years old, I told my mom I wanted to stop the treatments.  She didn't fight me on the decision at all.  Her mindset has always been, "It's your body.  I'm not going to make you do something you don't want to do - especially if it's not a necessity."  When I chose to continue when I was about 18 or 19 years old, my parents were supportive once again.
• "I've had laser hair removal surgery."

• Sometimes I get this response and I think it's just because people feel awkward and don't know what to say to me.  That, or maybe people think it helps them relate to me or that we have something in common.  I've heard that laser hair removal surgery isn't comfortable either, but that's not exactly the same kind of surgery that I have to have for my birthmark and I don't think they quite compare...for more than one reason.
• "Do you get acne on your birthmark?"
• Twenty-two-years later, even my mom still has questions - as this one was from her.  Interestingly enough, I get a lot less on my birthmark in comparison to my "normal" skin and areas of my face.  
• "Does it hurt?"
• This is a question asked by all age groups.  My birthmark does not hurt.  The laser treatment and the first week or so after the treatment, however, does hurt and leave me feeling sore.  Sometimes I even feel sore inside my mouth from the treatment on my cheek.  My face will also start itching once it starts to heal - but I'm not allowed to scratch it for a while.  If I scratch, I risk the possibility of scaring my skin.
• "Do you have to have the treatments?  What's the purpose?"
• Technically, no, I don't need the treatments.  I have the treatments to lighten my birthmark. As I age, my birthmark will naturally become darker as time goes on.  The blood vessels that cause my birthmark are also at risk of becoming thicker, possibly causing my skin texture to change.  I'm trying to be proactive in controlling the color and keeping my skin texture as normal as possible.  My lips are also a bit uneven because of the birthmark.  If I have the treatments, this may help my lips become more even.  (Ironically, my uneven lips bother me way more than the birthmark ever has.)
• "Is the birthmark a genetic component; something that your children will likely have?"
• From research that I've read and what I have been told by doctors, they type of birthmark I have is not hereditary.  The type I have (a port wine stain) was recently found to be caused by a completely random gene mutation.  This discovery will hopefully open doors to newer and easier treatments, if not a possible cure.  To read more about the research, click here!

If any of you have any questions at all - please let me know!  Leave a comment here on my blog, or email me.  I will respond as best I can (as I don't always know all the answers myself) and as quickly as I can.  I don't mind questions that you may have for me.  It's okay to be curious, and okay to ask! :-)

The Travelin' Chick,

Crystal

My Heart's Song

Lately I've been in a funk.  I've been dealing with a hurting heart, feeling broken, discouraged, and all while taking the word "failure" as a descriptive word for my life.  To be slightly open - I've been in a little bit of a depression...A depression that makes it extremely easy for me to isolate myself from friends and to be very critical of myself.

Last week I went to youth camp with teens from church.  I didn't go up for the full week as a counselor like I usually do (partially due to the "funk" I'm in, but also because of pure exhaustion from traveling and the fact that school started just a few days after camp ends), but I did go up for a couple of the days to hang out with the group.

During one of the services that I was able to attend, the band leading worship led us in the song called, "Forever Reign".  The whole song is wonderful.  While I posted the video at the beginning of my blog, here are the lyrics - written by Hillsong:

You are good, You are good
When there's nothing good in me
You are love, You are love 
On display for all to see
You are light, You are light 
When the darkness closes in
You are hope, You are hope
You have covered all my sin

You are peace, You are peace
When my fear is crippling
You are true, You are true
Even in my wandering
You are joy, You are joy 
You're the reason that I sing
You are life, You are life, 
In You death has lost its sting

Oh, I’m running to Your arms, 
I’m running to Your arms
The riches of Your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign

You are more, You are more
Than my words will ever say
You are Lord, You are Lord
All creation will proclaim
You are here, You are here
In Your presence I'm made whole
You are God, You are God
Of all else I'm letting go

Oh, I’m running to Your arms
I’m running to Your arms
The riches of Your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign

My heart will sing 
no other Name
Jesus, Jesus

Oh, I’m running to Your arms
I’m running to Your arms
The riches of Your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign

If you notice, I bolded one section of the lyrics.

While I pray, talk, and call out to God - I know that if I am honest to myself, my heart has been singing other names - not just the name of Jesus.  My heart has been broken.  Slowly, as I have been struggling, more and more I have allowed my heart to sing names that belong to Satan...Names such as failure, discouragement, fear, pain, sadness, hurt, and depression...and that's not even my full list.  These words (names) have been seasoning in my mind.  The longer I let them season, the more I have struggled.

Listening to the song, it hit me like a ton of bricks as to how much I have let Satan affect my heart, well being, and thought process.  I've let him affect how I think of myself instead of thinking of myself in terms of who God created me to be.

Instead of allowing my heart to sing names attached to Satan, I need to replace those names with names of Jesus.  Words of God.  Names such as, Healer, Protector,  and Comforter.  I need to allow my heart to sing lyrics of love, peace, joy, happiness, forgiveness, and acceptance...Lyrics of God's love in my life.  Lyrics that are true and beautiful - not false lies and ugly.

Granted, this is easier said than done.  I had this personal revelation a week ago and I am still struggling.

To those of you who are local, and to those of you who I interact with on a regular basis - I'm sorry if I seem distant or as though I am isolating myself.  A few friends have pointed out my recent tendencies of isolation, silence, and being distant...and I can't deny these patterns.  I've turned down social invitations, have been horrible at returning text messages and phone calls, and some of my few "public appearances" are brief and basic before I quickly leave.  I promise this is nothing personal or against any of you.  My mind is just a bit overwhelmed as I work through a lot of things, processing what it can - and I thank you for your love, kindness, and your patience.

I may not jump out of this bit of depression tomorrow.  I may not get of this funk next week.  What I do know is, I need to tune my heart to another tune with a new set of lyrics.

What song are you letting your heart sing?

The Travelin' Chick,

Crystal

PS: Please note that this is not a blog asking for sympathy.  Just a blog of honesty and a request for prayer, if I ever come to your mind in the coming days.

It Happened in a Pretzel Shop

It happened in a pretzel shop.

Once my plane landed back in Fresno, I hit the ground running.  Within about 12 hours of landing, I was already out having lunch with friends and having family dinners.  Within 36 hours, less than two days after arriving home from Germany, I went out shopping with my mom, sister, and aunt.

While we were out shopping, we went out to an outlet mall with all kinds of shops.  Famous Footwear, Claire's, Lane Bryant, Bath and Body Works, etc...There were many people around the stores that day, and I was able to understand every word being spoken around me by every person.  I was back in my English-speaking American culture after being away for two months!

Apparently, though, two months is all it takes to have the 'joy' of experiencing reverse culture shock.

My sister, mom, and I stuck together as my aunt went to another store that only she wanted to shop in.  We went into a couple of stores before heading into a pretzel shop that smelled deliciously tempting.

Once in the shop, I read the flavor options to my mom and sister.  Well, okay, I read the three or four that sounded good to me out of the 10 or so listed.

Asking my mom and sister which one they wanted to share, they both told me, "I don't know which one I want...you decide."  I insisted that they all sounded good to me so I wanted them to chose, and they also insisted that I make the decision.

That's when it happened.

In the middle of a pretzel shop my brain shut down.  I literally could not make a decision.  As tears threatened to spill out of my eyes, I became overwhelmed and firmly told my mom, "I can't make this decision. I need you to make it this time."

I couldn't get out of that pretzel shop quick enough.  My sister, mom, and I found a picnic table outside of the shop so we could sit down to enjoy our freshly baked treats...but my mind was still in overload as I gazed off into space.

My mom was asking me what was wrong, and I honestly don't recall what I told her in response.  Trying to avoid questions, I probably something like, "I'm fine - just tired and jet lagged."  I guess my sister couldn't quite hear what was being said, as she asked, "What??"

I'm usually pretty mellow.  Rarely do I snap - but for some reason, I did that day.  Before I could stop myself I couldn't help but snap out, "I don't want to talk about it!!"...As I stood up and walked away...and kept walking.  The tears that threatened to spill out of my eyes 10 minutes earlier had finally acted upon their threat.

At the table they were asking me questions about what was wrong.  When they called my phone after my "moment", they asked more questions.  I kept telling them I was fine.  After all, how would I be able to answer their questions about what had just taken place, when I didn't know the answers for myself?  All I knew was my mom and sister weren't the cause for my reaction...It wasn't their fault, and I felt awful for responding in the way that I did.

Even four days laters, I still don't know what came over me.  I've heard about this happening to missionaries after they spent 2-4 years overseas in other countries.  But, I've never heard of this happening to someone being gone for just two months.  Even after spending six months in London, England, I never had a moment like this.  Sure, I had other types of moments when I returned home from London - like realizing how many new songs were on the radio in just half a year or how many new slang terms were imbedded into the American vocabulary.  But nothing so...dramatically overwhelming.  (Granted, I do realize England is a different culture than Germany and my surroundings and experiences were completely different.)

For those of you wondering, "You were only in Germany two months?  I thought you were going to be there for six months?"  I realize I have confused a lot of people.  My plans changed and I chose to return home four months early.  That choice was not an easy one.  A part of me wonders if my moment in the pretzel shop was a result from my mind being completely overwhelmed from making many big and difficult decisions in the recent days and weeks, that it hit a point of being unable to make a small, simple, decision.

Who knows why I reacted the way I did, but here's to hoping that will be the only moment of its kind!

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal

My "No Man Plan"

What is a “No Man Plan”?  This is my plan for the next five years of my life.  It includes the goals I have set for myself: Finish my time in Germany, get a job when returning to California, finish college with heavy semesters, (and possibly summer school), and buy a house when I graduate with my BA degree.  Oh, and not to mention: Leaving guys (or at least, guys in the romantic sense) out of the picture for the next five years.

Why would I want to leave guys and romance out of the next five years of my life?

In less than a month, I will be 22-years-old. Not only will my age be changing by one digit, but I’ll also be having my 22-year anniversary of being single.

I've mentioned this before - but for a review - just in case you haven't read the other entries: I have never been on a date.  I have never had an actual boyfriend.  I have never been kissed…All of which, is considered to be “weird” by American standards. 

Sometimes I look around at all my friend and at people my age.  Most people, by the age of 22, have already been on a date.  Many of my friends that are my age are now engaged, married, and/or already have children.  While I know I want to wait for the right guy and that I don’t want to settle for anything less then God’s plan, I still sometimes feel behind in the relationship world.  In fact, when I was 18-years-old, a 12-year-old told me that I should join a dating website like eHarmony.

While I have been blessed to avoid so much heartache that many American teen girls face by the age of 15 or 16, I haven’t been as lucky to completely avoid all heart aches – even in the midst of being single.

Although I have always been single, I have had feelings for a few guys that I have known.  Little did I know, before I started to have feelings for them, that these male friends in my life would one day be a new root in my of heartbreak. 

Let me introduce my friend Jason*.  He and I were really great friends.  We talked often about every topic under the sun.  Our families had a long history of friendships, and he and I became really good friends.  Things were going great between us, and honestly, I was getting mixed signals from him.  One minute I would be getting signals from him that he might have feelings in return, but the next minute I wouldn’t be sure.

I never told him how I felt about him (in fact, I’ve never told any guy I’ve been interested in that I had feelings for him)…so we always stayed completely on a friendship level.  As great as our friendship was, I guess I was deceived.  We were talking like normal one day, and then I never heard from him again.  I’m not sure if I did or said anything to upset him, or if he had something take place in his life that made him fall off the face of the planet.  I may never know why our friendship ended the way it did, but it was a hard heartache for me to recover from.

Then there is my friend Wesley*.  Boy, did I fall hard for Wesley!  We started as friends, and eventually I found myself head-over-heels for this guy.  I found my feelings for Wesley to be very inconvenient as I was content being single and more than content not having feelings for anyone.  In fact, I tried as hard as I could to get away from how I felt.  Once I discovered I had feelings for him, I prayed to God, “Lord…Please give Wesley one of three things: Bad breath, bad body odor, or a personality trait that I would consider as a big enough flaw to break my interest, but not big enough to prevent a good friendship from taking place.”

Well, Wesley brushed his teeth, was well groomed, and was a great guy.  We complimented one another in many ways and our friendship grew stronger…and my feelings for him grew with it.

Eventually Wesley found out that I had feelings for him – but not from me.  The whole thing is a long and private story – but he found out how I felt through someone else.   As it turns out, he doesn’t have feelings for me in return, but our friendship has been preserved as we still keep in touch on a regular basis.  While our friendship is still maintained, I would be lying to say that I wasn’t disappointed and would be lying if I told you my heart didn’t painfully break.

Not only can I tell you about the guys I have liked in the past, but I can tell you about other situations too….Like the time a guy named Bradley* texted me, telling me I should let him know when I would be in town so we could “get together”…And I’m not talking about getting together to watch a movie or to meet for coffee.  His text was a bit more crude and slang-filled then what I am willing to post on my blog.  (Or the way my mom would say it, “rude, crude, and socially unacceptable!”)  The guy showed interest in me, but only on a level that I am saving for marriage. 

While I didn’t have an interest in Bradley in a romantic way, my heart still broke.  My heart broke, realizing the lack of respect he had for me as a woman, but also himself.  I’m worth more then a one-night stand, and so is he.  I’m worth far more than what I felt degraded to by his one, simple, text message.

I have a few more stories about guy friends I have liked in the past, but I also have more stories that include a few Bradleys…but I won’t get into all of the stories I could share.  Sometimes, as a single woman, my heart breaks in other ways. 

While my heart has broken a little in each situation, I am thankful my heart has never broken beyond repair.  I am thankful that I haven’t had boyfriend after boyfriend, giving my heart away to the wrong guy(s).  I am thankful that I have avoided deeper heartbreaks that many girls go through several times by the time they are my age.

Although I am thankful, I’m not saying being single is easy.  Hence my “no man plan”.

My plan has been in place for about two months now.   While my plan doesn’t include dating or a relationship – I’m not saying I am completely against the idea of dating someone.  If it’s meant to happen, it is meant to happen.  What I am saying is: I’m not looking for something to happen.  Even with my plan in place, my desire truly is to one day meet a guy, fall in love, and to marry.  I’m also not going to say “no” to the possibility of a blessing from God just because I’m stubbornly holding onto a plan that may not be God’s plan.

In the past, I have desired to be in a relationship.  I think I desired it so much that I spent too much focusing on the idea of finding the right guy, waiting for a relationship to occur…all causing disappointment to take place when things didn’t work out the way I had hoped.

If a guy likes me in the next five years, so be it.  If he likes me – he can let me know.  I’m a bit old school I guess, but I believe it’s the guy’s job to pursue me, the female, and for him be the leader of a household.  I don’t want to develop special feelings for another guy, just to have him not like me back, causing a new dose of pain.  This time – I want a (decent and Godly) man to like ME, and to let me know on his own.  I’m not going to look for him…He can find me.  If he’s there, he’s there.  If he’s not, then he’s not.  (I sometimes wonder if a bus possibly hit him while he was on the way to find me…ha!)

Really, I guess I am trying to avoid unnecessary heartaches while using my single years to focus things that are here, now, and in front of me.  I can’t make my dream man magically appear in front of me, giving myself that perfect, romantic “happily ever after”.  In fact, I may never have a relationship to lead towards marital bliss…but I can focus on becoming a better person, God’s plan, friendships,  relationships with family, and other dreams that I can make come true.

God knows the desires of my heart…but more than that, He knows the plans He has for my life.  Single or one day married – life will be a great adventure with God in control.  While it won’t always be easy, I no longer want to take for granted the joys of being single.

Here’s to a successful, upcoming, busy five years.  

The Travelin’ Chick,

Crystal

****** Names of all of the guys I have mentioned in this entry have been changed for privacy for myself, and for them as well.