Reflecting on the epic-ness

I haven’t written here in a while, so this is going to be a long post!

For starters, I seem to have broken my record for the least number of blog posts in a year. This is only my third post in 2020. My record for the most posts was 90 in 2013, until I broke that record in 2014 with 96 posts. Since blogging is therapeutic for me, I’ve noticed that if I blog a lot, that means that I’m having a rough time emotionally. I think the good news is that my emotions have been manageable this year. Plus I just finished the busiest (and awesome-est) semester of my life.

And I know that 2020 was rough on everybody, in one way or another.

I used to work with an editor who thought that people misused the word “epic.” She insisted that an “epic” is actually a genre of poetry. Yes, it certainly is, especially if you’re talking about The Iliad, The Odyssey, The Aeneid, or Beowulf. But I don’t think she realized that another dictionary definition of the word “epic” is an adjective that describes something that is “extending beyond the usual or ordinary especially in size or scope” (per Merriam-Webster’s 11th Collegiate Dictionary). In that sense of the word, 2020 was epic indeed.

I’m sure the pandemic comes to mind. It wasn’t just an epidemic that affected a large population; it was a strange, deadly plague that affected literally everyone on the planet in some way. I’m sure George Floyd’s death comes to mind. It wasn’t just police brutality; it was a heinous crime that almost literally everyone on earth was able to witness and become outraged about to the point of protesting and even rioting. I’m sure the election comes to mind. It wasn’t just another Democrat versus Republican battle at the polling booths; it was communism and reactionary revolution clashing amidst possible voter fraud.

I might not get another chance to say this: I’m really going to miss having President Trump in the White House. Yes, I voted for him. I think he rubs people the wrong way because he isn’t really a politician. He’s a CEO, which means that he doesn’t quit until his organization wins. He doesn’t seem to care about details, and he doesn’t really have a filter. I thought this was refreshing, because I just don’t like politicians. I hate it when I vote for somebody because I think they’re going to make a difference, but they end up compromising or going back on their promises. I can’t stand to watch them make speeches where they hide behind overly diplomatic language that doesn’t make any sense, or when they cave in to people’s demands just so that they won’t be hated. So, I’m going to miss Trump because I don’t think he was like that.

But I’m not really here to talk about politics. I’m here to talk about me and my 2020.


Epic schooling and opportunities

I had a feeling that I was going to learn some awesome things at school this year, and I most certainly did! This past semester especially, I noticed that the concepts I was learning in class would come to life while I was at church.

Also this past semester, I was introduced to what the concept of theology really is. If you’ve read my blog in the past, you’ve probably seen my “I’m not a theologian” disclaimer, but I’ve since learned that I actually am. Pretty much all of us are theologians. If the definition of theology is the study of God and wrestling with His truths, then I’ve been theologizing for years. It’s nice to put a name to what I’ve been doing! In fact, if I ever get a master’s degree, I would like for it to be in theology.

But for now, I most gladly continue to study worship leadership. I used to lead small-group worship all the time with my guitar, but learning the guitar as an academic discipline wasn’t what I thought it would be. Unfortunately, I wasn’t picking up the advanced fingerings or chord patterns, and I couldn’t quite learn where all of the notes are on the fretboard. It affected my grade a few times. One professor even scoffed at me during a jury. OK, fine. I can take a hint. So, I switched to piano, an instrument that I’ve played off and on since I was five years old. (I had been missing the piano, anyway.)

 

As I’ve really gotten into the piano again in 2020, I’ve realized that I just can’t get enough of this instrument. I’m not a virtuoso by any means, and I think I’ll always be a singer first, but I feel very much at home on the piano. Oh, beloved instrument, I daresay we shall never part ways again!

As I mentioned in a previous post, in the parable of the talents, the master told the one-talent servant that he needed to have at least put his talent in the bank so that it could collect interest. I like to think of the piano as being a talent that has been collecting interest over the years, and in 2020 I made a really cool withdrawal. I’ve noticed that I’ve been able to play a lot of songs by ear now, and I can sometimes play with my eyes closed because my fingers have familiarized themselves with the keyboard again. I wasn’t able to do that before. To me, THAT IS EPIC!!! 

 

And, of course, MeepMeep can’t get enough of my piano keyboard, either. Especially when I sing and play simultaneously. (See her photo-bombing a video that I uploaded for school?)

Back in 1997, during my last semester at Baylor, I signed up to take a Keyboard Skills class because I wanted to learn how to do cool stuff on the piano. As soon as the first class started, the professor basically said, “I only have 10 keyboards, but there are 12 students in this class. This class is required for music majors, so for the two of you who aren’t music majors, I’m sorry, but see you next semester!” So, I left the classroom along with another girl, I got a “WP” on my transcript, and I graduated without getting to take that class. Fast-forward to about 23 years later: I’ve been learning how to do the cool stuff that I wanted to learn back then. Epic! 

 

I experienced some worship-leading epic-ness, too! This year, I was given some awesome opportunities that I’ve been waiting for for years. I was also able to learn firsthand from worship pastors at my church in a way that I hadn’t learned from pastors before. Even during a pandemic, I’ve been having the time of my life!

I don’t like it when people diss 2020 and just write off the year as being completely bad, especially since I experienced such awesome things that I wasn’t able to experience before.


Epic horribleness

And yet, I had one or two “I hate 2020” moments of my own. The day after I wrote my last blog post, I rear-ended someone during a food delivery. I got estimates from a couple of places that said that either 1) my car repairs would cost $5,000 or 2) my car was totaled. I was preparing to sell my beloved vehicle for parts until a friend recommended a place that would fix my car for much cheaper. So, my car was fixed and is now driveable! (I need to get some transmission work done now, but that is another story that will be resolved next year.)

While I was driving to work a few months later, I rear-ended someone AGAIN! (Thankfully there wasn’t any major damage, and my insurance didn’t make a big deal about it.) I hadn’t gotten into any real car wrecks since 2002, and then I end up rear-ending people TWICE in 2020?! UGH!!!

Speaking of my car, the food-delivery gig started to go sour for me this year. It was very lucrative at the beginning of the pandemic when the restaurants closed, but then sometime during the summer, people stopped ordering as often, and they stopped tipping as much. On Sundays (especially because of brunch), I used to be able to make $100-150 a day, but that has now dwindled to maybe $50-60 or so a day. $14 tips have become $2 tips or no tips. So, I won’t be continuing this side gig after 2020. (I’ll write more about that further down.)

So, that was my horribleness this year. I don’t have to tell you about the pandemic, the shelter-in-place, the masks, the quarantines, the people getting sick and/or dying, the hoarding, or the job furloughs, because I think you already know about all of that.


Epic provision

God continued to provide financially for me this year, just like He always will, but this year the provision was especially impressive. During the first part of the pandemic, after the government issued stimulus checks and when people were ordering takeout like crazy, I was finally doing OK financially. Then after I nearly totaled my car, my Facebook friends all pitched in and donated enough money for me to get it fixed.

Then I started cat-sitting for a friend who paid me handsomely because she was away for a very long time. With that income, I was able to pay rent and also finish paying my school bill for the Fall semester. In the process, I decided to continue to offer my cat-sitting services long term—so as to replace the income generated from delivering food. I’m still working that out, but that will be a new 2021 thing!

I think I’ll look back on this year as one in which God didn’t just provide—He provided big-time!


Epic suspense

God had said that, for me personally, 2020 would be an “epic” year in which I would be “on the edge of [my] seat.” Yep! I think we’ve all been sitting on the edge of our seat this year. Will I lose my job? Will I be able to pay my rent? Will I ever get paid for those services rendered? Will the IRS finally issue my refund? Will the government give us another stimulus check? Will we ever find out who won the election?

Will the pandemic end anytime soon? Will my COVID test results be negative? Will my family member ever make it out of the hospital?

Yep, 2020 was a nail-biter.


Epic reset button 

Like everyone else, I gained about 20 pounds or so from all of the quarantines. And like everyone else, I (re)discovered the walking trails by my home. As I was nearing the end of a sidewalk that borders a local park, I decided to take the trail by the picnic pavilion back to my place. At first, I was surprised to see that the trail wasn’t actually there… until I looked more closely and noticed that other things had actually grown over the trail. I think more people just need to start walking on it again so that the trail will be more recognizable.

I think 2020, despite its horribly vivid thriller-movie-esque qualities, has served an interesting purpose. One word that we were given at church to describe 2020 (back on New Year’s Eve when everyone was excited about the upcoming year) was “reset.” 2020 was going to be a year when we would get to regroup, get refreshed, and basically just rest. We didn’t know that it would be because we’d be forced to stay at home, or because some of us would end up getting sick.

In a lot of ways, that giant reset button has been pushed. Most of us who were stuck at home ended up reconnecting with our families and spending time with them in ways that perhaps we would not have otherwise. Many of us have had to learn basic sanitary skills such as hand-washing (which I already knew from my hypochondriac upbringing, but it was fun to learn how to sing “Happy birthday” to myself in Spanish). Some of us lost our jobs, but hopefully we found better ones.

Many of us Christians have been forced out of our political comfort zones and onto our knees where we should have been all along. People who hadn’t been regularly attending church began doing so online when the buildings were closed. In the process, we church people realized how valuable the internet is for making resources available for people who need them.

People found new ways to connect, new ways to rest, new ways to earn a living, new ways to stay healthy, and new ways to be creative during these wretchedly difficult circumstances. Some of us discovered that a few of our friends on social media value politics more than they value their relationship with us, which is always tragic... even though the parting of ways might actually be good riddance. And some of us were able to knock out a ton of college credits in the midst of extremely crazy schedules because the restrictions and the internet made it all possible.

This year, in one way or another, we uncovered trails that had long been forgotten or neglected. We remembered how valuable those trails are for getting us to where we need to be. We can continue to blaze those trails anew and see where God ultimately takes us.

 

And I’m sure He’ll bring us some new friends along the way.


What’s next?

For me personally, the word that I keep getting for 2021 is “party.” I know this means that I’m going to have a lot of fun next year. Now that I’ve found my trail, I just need to stay on it and hit my stride. And I’m excited!

But I also know that not everyone and not everything is invited to my party. Food delivery isn’t invited to the party, hence that adjustment in my life. I’m not invited to the party, which I think means that I’m going to die to myself in a variety of ways in 2021. That process is never fun, but hopefully I’ll be less of a jerk and more like Jesus when it’s over.

Although the pandemic is still happening at the moment, I know that 2021 is going to be a different year that has different things in store for all of us. Bring it!

Thank you for reading this epic-ly long post.

Ojo

People don’t read my blog anymore as much as they used to, so I’m not sure how much of a difference this post is going to make. But, as you well know, our nation is currently facing a crisis of race. This has gotten me thinking through my own issues. I don’t wish to dishonor anyone, but I also don’t wish for anyone to interpret my silence as my condoning evil behavior. Because I don’t condone it. So, I’m going to speak. I will offer my perspective as cautiously yet as passionately as I can.

So, yet another act of police brutality has occurred as the result of racial profiling. I saw the video footage. I saw the anger in the officers’ eyes. I heard the cries of a dying man who was pinned between the pavement and a merciless knee as if he were an inanimate object instead of a human being.

Has it come to this yet again? Protests, riots, and lootings because yet another thug in a police uniform has abused the authority that he or she has been entrusted with? Another innocent life has been taken because some jerk couldn’t look past the color of a person’s skin?

I’m sorry—what year is it? Is it 1820, when many of us believe that human beings can be purchased and owned as slaves? Is it 1920, when many of us believe that human beings can be segregated and separated like animals on a farm? I’m sorry—I thought it was 2020, when many of us have gone through diversity training, years of schooling, and decades of growing up around people who were different than us. I thought we were past all of this racist crap.

But apparently not. Apparently, it’s still here like a volcano that we think is dormant until it suddenly erupts.

As many of you know, I’m half Anglo, half Mexican, 100% white. I don’t understand the specific struggles that black people have experienced all of their lives. But since I grew up in a bi-ethnic home, I understand my own struggles, and I hope I can empathize at least a little bit.

“Mexican” is often still used as a derogatory term, but in this post I have chosen to use it as a descriptive term. That means that half of my family is originally from Mexico—you know, that country that is responsible for creating most of your favorite foods. “Hispanic” or “Latino” are politically correct terms, but they aren’t descriptive enough in my opinion. (I used to have a half-Nicaraguan coworker who demanded that I be more specific. Fine. I guess you can’t please everybody.)

People of Mexican descent have encountered their share of racism in the United States over the years, and I daresay we still do. My Mexican uncle said once that when he was a boy in the 1950s, his schoolteacher made him and his classmates wash their hands unnecessarily because they still looked dirty (brown). My Mexican mom and aunt have mentioned that they weren’t allowed to speak Spanish in school because their (paranoid) non-bilingual teachers couldn’t understand what they were saying. White people in my family have either told me about their concern that my skin is browner than theirs or that a neighborhood becomes bad when black people and Mexicans move in.

Yes, I’ve encountered and experienced racism even in my own family—the people who I’m supposed to feel safe around.

While I was growing up, I also learned that it’s not just white people who discriminate against black people. Mexicans can be just as prejudiced against black people as white people can, if not worse. (And, if you see the infamous video footage, you’ll notice that one of the four police officers was Asian.)

Racism aside, I still haven’t figured out why skin color is such a big deal in Hispanic cultures. “La Negra” (which means “the black lady” in Spanish) is my favorite Mariachi song—not because of the lyrics but because of the extremely catchy and danceable traditional melody. And anytime you see the word “morena” or “moreno,” that’s Spanish for “brown” or “dark skin,” which is often included in song lyrics as an expression of beauty.

But if all you see when you look at a person is his or her skin color... you truly lack depth as a human being.

“Give the king Your judgments, O God, and Your righteousness to the king’s Son. He will judge Your people with righteousness, and Your poor with justice.” (Psalm 72:1-2)

So, as I’ve been processing the tragedy of George Floyd and the current situation that our country has been facing yet again, I’ve been angry. You’re supposed to get angry at injustice. You’re supposed to get angry when an abuser treats a human being like a piece of furniture.

But my thinking hasn’t stopped there. Yes, people still discriminate nowadays because of race. But what about gender discrimination? What about age discrimination? How many opportunities have I been passed up for because I’m not white enough? or not Mexican enough? or not cute and feminine enough? or too old?

Discrimination is horrible. God doesn’t see people that way. He likes variety, so He makes people all sorts of colors, shapes, and sizes on purpose. And He wants all people to love Him and to love one another.

 

As I’ve mentioned before, since I’ve been around racist attitudes for a large portion of my life, I’ve had to work through my own racist issues. Every time racism bubbles up inside me, I have to get rid of it like a turd that needs to be flushed down the commode. If it will help you do the same, I would like to share with you something that has helped me.

The title of this post is “Ojo,” which is pronounced “oh-ho,” and it is the Spanish word for “eye.” (It can also mean “look” or “watch out.”) I think this Spanish word is a very clever one, because the word “ojo” looks like a pair of eyes with a nose in the middle.

I’ve heard it said that the eyes are the windows to the soul. This is certainly true, because when you look into a person’s eyes, you can’t see that person’s skin color, height, weight, socioeconomic status, or educational status. You can see pain. You can see joy. You can see weariness. You can see contentment. Ultimately, all you see is a person.

I’ve struggled with lust for most of my life. When I’m around people, I’ve noticed something that keeps my thoughts from going to bad places. Looking a person in the eye—instead of down at his pecs or at her cleavage—helps me see the person as a human being. Not as an object.

If you struggle with racism, try looking people in the eye. You won’t see that person’s skin color. You’ll see wisdom. You’ll see anger. You’ll see friendliness. You’ll see confusion. You’ll see a search for acceptance.

You’ll see a person. And that person’s life matters.

Epic-ness and other thoughts

The pandemic: the bad parts

This year has gotten such a bad rap so far. Yes, it’s been difficult—and with COVID-19, it’s felt like we’ve been living in a bad dream—but personally, it hasn’t been my worst year.

2019 was the hardest year of my life. I had financial issues, health issues, car issues, and relationship issues. I had to step off the worship platform for a few months so that I could get a handle on some emotional healing. I saw family for the first time in about 8 years. I started 3 new jobs. I went back to school and learned how to be in college while being hopelessly dependent on the internet. And yet, I’m really glad that I went through all of that because it prepared me for 2020.

The pandemic has been awful. We all know that. And yet, I think that’s what’s made it so doable: Literally everyone in the entire world has been affected by it. I don’t ever have to explain to anyone why 1) I’ve had to stay at home 2) I haven’t been able to lead worship at church and 3) I’ve had to wear a mask. Because everyone already knows. Can you imagine if you were the only one who had to do any or all of that all by yourself? You’d probably feel like a freak. At the very least, we’ve all been in this together.

And yet, I’m kind of done with this pandemic, as I think we all are. Since my food delivery job is considered to be “essential,” I’ve seen all kinds of people and the ways that they’ve been dealing with everything. Some people were cautious from the very beginning. Others haven’t really seemed to care about the whole social distancing thing. Still others wear masks but don’t cover their mouths or noses with it, which makes me think they’re either careless or maybe overworked and just don’t care anymore.

Speaking of, I honestly kinda started to resent it when people would say that we’ve all had so much spare time since we’ve been stuck at home. No, not all of us. I ended up being busier than I’ve been in a long time. Since people couldn’t eat at restaurants for a while, they ordered takeout, so food deliveries spiked. My bank account was happy because I was so busy, but I didn’t really get to breathe between deliveries like I normally do. (Tonight was the first slow-ness that I’ve seen since March.) Since I’ve been working from home for my office job, it’s been challenging for me to set boundaries for myself since I’ve been working in the place where I usually rest. And since all of my classes moved online for the latter half of the semester, the amount of work doubled for most of my courses. In addition to showing up for class (online), I had to complete extra assignments that proved I was doing the work.

As a result, I’ve been dealing with exhaustion and burnout. My natural tendency is to be a workaholic, so it’s been hard to try to not overwork myself and yet have to do extra work. I talked to my therapist about feeling burned out, but it doesn’t seem like there’s any need for alarm in terms of my mental health.

Thankfully, since the semester has been over for a week now, I’ve felt myself gradually slowing down, relaxing in my natural tendency to study everything (even when school isn’t in session), and resting a tiny bit more.

I’ve remembered what God told me about what 2020 would be for me. My word for the year is “epic,” and He said that this year would be “on the edge of your seat.” I’ve also heard Him say, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” It’s interesting how this year has unfolded so far. COVID-19 has certainly turned out to be a disease of epic proportions. We’ve all been on the edge of our seats as we wait to see how soon life will return to normal. And there have been lots of little things in my life that I’ve wondered about: Should I get a new laptop or a new phone? Should I have adjusted the way I was turning in my assignments for school or my approach to doing homework? Should I update my strategy for food deliveries? Well, none of the above was broke, so I didn’t fix any of it. And I’m good with the results.

And in case this still needs to be said: THIS WAS THE WEIRDEST SEMESTER EVER.

The music

I switched from guitar to piano this semester. This was a big deal for me, and it’s the first time that I’ve studied piano since 1997 when I was at Baylor. I got to shake off some rust and learn a lot of new skills. And I had a blast! In Matthew 25 in the Bible, the master tells his one-talent servant that he should have at least put his talent in the bank so that it would have collected some interest. I think in all of those years that I had largely set aside the piano, that talent had been collecting interest. It was pretty epic to see what I was able to withdraw from that bank. There have been times when I’ve sat at my keyboard and played, and I’ve heard new melodies come out of my fingertips that I don’t remember putting there, and I’ve seen my fingers go to places that I don’t remember training them to go. (I also think all of the emotional healing has helped clear the air and lighten the load.) Shucks, I didn’t know my fingers could do that! So, I’ve just enjoyed the ride.

As an assignment for one of my courses this semester, I broadcast a worship concert on Facebook Live during finals week where I led worship with my little piano keyboard. (I was so nervous! I covered up my many mistakes by singing louder and changing my rhythm/style.) I’m always eager to lead worship, but I attend such a large church and a school that only has a certain number of slots, so there aren’t always very many opportunities to lead. It felt good to be in charge of a worship set again! And I think that was the first time I’ve led worship on piano since I was in my parents’ living room in the summer of ’96 or ’97.

In case anyone was wondering, I haven’t completely given up the guitar. I still play every once in a while. I just need to build my calluses up again if I want to play for long periods of time. (Owie.)

The pandemic: the good parts

My Facebook Live piano concert was an epic opportunity for me, and I wouldn’t have had it if it COVID-19 hadn’t put all of my classes online. During a regular semester, I would have performed only one song for a grade in front of my peers. This semester, I played multiple songs, and even though I was by myself, more than 100 people ended up watching me. That frickin’ rocked.

Other things have rocked, too. In a season of economic uncertainty, God has been providing for me in epic ways: I’ve been able to work from home for my office job, I got some new freelance gigs, and of course I’ve been extremely busy with food delivery. Add to that the economic stimulus from the government, and voilà, I’m financially OK for the first time since 2017. (I hope it stays that way!)

Of course, since I’ve been home so much more, I’ve spent a ton of time around MeepMeep. Unlike my previous cats, she has really gone with the flow with my schedule change. (I think it helped that she used to live inside a vet clinic. You never really know what’s going to happen there.) Thankfully, over these past two months it seemed like she was sick of me only a time or two. The rest of the time, I think she’s been glad to have me around. When I leave to deliver food and come back, she seems ecstatic to see me.

I think one thing that we can all learn from this pandemic is how to persevere. This will all be over eventually, and we need to just stick it out and wait for it to end. We can finish strong!

But we can’t just up and quit.

The seriousness

I heard that May is Mental Health Awareness Month. If you’re not familiar with my story, I attempted suicide nearly 20 years ago. (I still celebrate it as a morbid anniversary every November. Because I’m still alive.) I’ve dealt with depression off and on since about 1998, with 1999 and 2000 being the worst years for it. You think 2020 is bad? For me, it’s been nothing compared to the mental hell that I went through all those years ago.

For me, getting free from depression has been sort of like a ripple effect. The biggest waves were my couple of years of depression that led up to my suicide attempt, and working through that helped the waves to calm down. Then something would happen to disrupt the waters, and the ripples would need some time to subside again. (2013 was another horrible year for me. If you read my blog back then, perhaps you remember my long, prolific angry posts.) In recent years, I’ve been dealing with getting rid of the roots that drove me to depression, so it’s gotten so much better. When I needed to start working from home a couple of months ago, I was concerned that I would wig out again (because that’s what happened in 2013), but thankfully I only had like one depressed day. The rest of the time, I’ve been OK.

This evening as I was beginning my food deliveries, I was playing the Christian industrial music that I used to listen to years ago in my car. I was like, I’m too happy to listen to this, so I switched to The Gipsy Kings’ danceable Latin beats instead.

I think the reason why Mental Health Awareness Month is a thing is because not everyone understands how serious mental health issues can be. If you’ve never experienced clinical depression, you don’t know what it’s like to be depressed. I don’t know what it’s like to be bipolar, because I’ve never been bipolar. I don’t know what panic attacks feel like, because I’ve never had one. But I know what it’s like to get so depressed that I either feel like cutting myself or killing myself, because I’ve been there.

When people either attempt or commit suicide, they often stun the people in their lives who say that they didn’t see it coming. Uh, yeah. If you genuinely want to take your life, you’re not going to want anyone to know about it, because you don’t want anyone or anything to foil your plan, so of course you’re going to try to hide it. Sorry, but that’s the way the deception works. (Yes, there’s an enemy behind the madness.)

Someone’s mental health isn’t something that you can just blow off. People in the Church—as loving and as well-intentioned as they can be—can be especially clueless about mental health, especially depression. Throughout the years, I’ve encountered a variety of attitudes from church people: getting basically ignored when I mentioned suicide, getting the spirit of depression rebuked over me lots of times, getting treated like a child, getting studied like a science experiment, having things taken away because I was struggling... receiving some sound wisdom, being blessed by a listening ear, getting checked on by a concerned friend, and everything in between. I’m very glad to say that I’ve seen improvement from the Church over the years. I think all of the mental health awareness has been working.

This pandemic has been messing with people in all kinds of ways. It wouldn’t hurt to check on people to make sure they’re holding up OK.

Although the Church still has a lot to learn (as we all do), I think church people have been doing a better job of understanding that the battle for mental health isn’t just a spiritual one. It’s a battle that’s fought on several different fronts: spiritual, physical, emotional, mental, social, relational, chemical, psychological, etc. Yes, pray for people, walk with them through their fires, but also make sure that people have access to a good therapist if they need one, and don’t shame them for taking medication if they need it. Comedian Chonda Pierce has said that when people have criticized her for taking medicine for depression, she’s quipped, “Take off your glasses and drive home. Where’s your faith?”

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: You never know what’s behind a person’s smile. You may never fully realize what a person has had to go through to achieve a genuine smile that expresses a joy and a peace that surpasses all understanding. If people don’t understand it, I don’t mind too much. Through my journey, I’ve developed a relationship with my Father that no one will be able to take away from me.

#breakthestigma

As always, thank you for reading!