Our Greatness

  

Today is January 20, 2021.

Today the United States of America is taking a deep, cleansing breath, then swearing in a new President. It’s a historic moment for many reasons.

This morning I watched as our sitting President, Donald Trump, left the White House for the last time. I have to tell you, it made my heart swell. Not only am I excited for this new season of change, but like most Americans, the sheer magnitude of Inauguration Day leaves me in awe. 

Our nation, though somewhat tarnished at present, has been a shining jewel of how to transfer power peacefully. No coups, no fighting, and none of the other nasty ways new regimes come into power. I’ll admit that last week had me a bit worried, but this morning looks so serene. 

Looks can be deceiving.

As our nation wearily stumbles into this day, there is so much division, so much pain. Our next President, Joe Biden, will have a full plate of complicated problems to contend with, made even worse by those actively hoping he will fail. He will be much like his predecessor in this way. 

As I sit and watch our nation prepare for this day, I am warily hopeful. Although I am comforted to see this day proceed with dignity, my Libertarian brain is concerned about the cost of our recent turmoil, both literally and figuratively. Our national debt is spiraling out of control, and with talks about more spending every day, I fear we are reaching a financial cliff. Added to that is the specter of looming “national security“ measures to protect our nation from domestic terror. Hopefully, these measures will be tempered in an attempt to heal the ever widening rift that has been festering like a boil for quite some time. 

But, even as I acknowledge our failures as a nation, I can still see our greatness. Whether we survive as a nation or not, our foundation was laid with great hope.

 Hope for a better life

Freedom from persecution, both political and religious 

Hope for the future

The promises of freedom and hope still bring people to America and stir the hearts of Americans already here. May we never forget the things that make us truly great while working hard to make it great for all people. We are abundantly blessed.

May God look kindly on America today and bless us into the future.

Thankful

Thankful.

That’s a word I didn’t think I’d use today. By all accounts, I have every right to be the grumpiest, grouchiest, grinch in town. 2020 has been a year, as we all know, and this Christmas season has been the icing on the cake. 

In a year full of tragedies, fear, and full on disasters, we’ve had our share. So, so many things have been a complete disaster since March, I don’t even know where to begin, so I won’t. Let’s just suffice it to say that this morning I woke up covered in hives. On Christmas Eve. 

Deep breaths.

Sigh.

Surprisingly enough, I’m not bitter or angry. I’m thankful. This morning I woke up. What a great way to begin a day. I’m at home, the best place to be. My husband made bacon. BACON. My doctor’s office was open when I called. I had hot coffee. I have great kids who are EXCITED for Christmas. 

I have a home filled with love, warmth, food, and joy.

Who could ask for more, especially at Christmas?

Merry Christmas, my friends. I pray you have all you need, want all you have, and hope for tomorrow.
 

I Haven't Written...

I haven't written.

Writer's write. That's what we do. All the time, we are either reading or writing something.

I have an entire book to edit, and I haven't written.

We are in the middle of a historic pandemic, and I haven't written.

Our economy is tanking, and I haven't written.

The world is being turned upside down daily, and I haven't written.

I've tried. I have written, rewritten, backspaced, and erased more things than I think I ever have in my life. Just like many of you, the scope of what has befallen our nation has left me overwhelmed and spellbound. I just can't get it right, and it's driving me mad.

So...
I haven't written.

How do you write when your brain is overwhelmed by the magnitude of just living every day? How do you put words into sentences that make sense to yourself and others when nothing about what is happening in the world is making sense?

How do you relate your own personal trials and tribulations to a world filled with trials and tribulations? It sounds whiny and lame. Do people still use the word lame? I digress.

I have so much to say, and it's not going away, so today...

I WRITE.

Friends, today is July 12, 2020.

My family, like so many of yours, has been in quarantine since the middle of March. Just a refresher of our current family situation is probably needed for any new followers, so here goes. My husband, myself, and our two girls moved from Illinois to Florida a little over two years ago. We live in a big house with his parents, both elderly, neither in great health. My husband is a public school teacher. One daughter is in high school and the other is in middle school. My husband is generally in good health, but got really sick at the end of last year, causing some gallbladder and heart issues. My big girl is generally in decent health, but has the same heart issue and some mental health issues. My baby has chronic asthma, sometimes severe. She usually ends up at the hospital at least once a year. Last school year she missed more school than she has ever missed in her life after also getting very sick in December. And to add to the fun, she also has a weird condition where her potassium bottoms out when she gets really sick sometimes. It can be a really huge deal and cause her to have a heart attack if left unnoticed or untreated.

At almost 13.

(Sighing in complete exhaustion)

As for myself, I have two autoimmune diseases currently. Since the move, I've stayed home to care for my family. It's been an eye-opening struggle to adapt to such an urban area after a lifetime in small towns, but we had just started to adjust to living here at the end of 2019.

Enter 2020...

I don't even know what to say. We are now living day by day, only going out when needed. Daily trying to protect this house full of people has not been easy or cheap.

This is not some sob story manufactured for you to feel sorry for me; it's just the way it is.  I know many of you and other Americans are living this same struggle. The overwhelming frustration, fear, idleness, and lack of control of our circumstances are all too common. In response, many of us have eaten too much, watched too much tv (I'm looking at you Tiger King fans), listened to too much news, and spent WAAAAYYY too much time on our phones or devices. We are coping the best we can.

Just when I thought things were starting to smooth out just a little, Florida's pandemic numbers exploded, and the nation wants our children and school staff to go back to school.

Here.

In Florida.

The world's newest Covid-19 hotspot.

Yet again, I'm at a loss for words.

How do I explain to anyone that, if I just sent them, I might lose my entire world? How do I make anyone understand just how dangerous that would be for us? Would anyone even care?

Of all of the overwhelming factors we've been dealing with since March, this one is the absolute hardest. I get angry at those who act like our lives don't matter. I want to yell and scream at those who tell me to "suck it up, and if you're afraid just stay home"! No amount of common sense, scientific evidence, or input from actual school staff will deter this sentiment.  How has humanity fallen this far? How has this happened right under our noses? When did it become okay to insist that others sacrifice their lives so that others can be stupid, careless, and selfish?

I fully understand that not everyone is in this position. I know many people need to go to work, make money, and feed their families. I know this. I know some people also live in places where this is not their reality. To that, I say: I'm so happy for you. I'm sad that you are being controlled by things that don't concern you. Every family is different. I feel there are no good answers at this point.

I wish I had some great pearls of wisdom to share with you. I wish I had some bright spot to cheer up this post. I wish this was just some bad dream. It's not, and I don't.

So, I will leave you with this:

I haven't written, but today I wrote it all out for the world to see. That is...if I don't erase it again...

Kicking the Can

Hello, friends.

I hope this post finds you well.

I need a moment to clear my head, so I hope you don't mind listening for a bit.  My heart is so heavy right now. My head is hurting, my eyes keep tearing up, and my very soul is churning.  Now is not a great time in history to have anxiety. Those of us with it are not okay, so check on your friends, alright?

I've written this blog in my head three times already. I've physically written it. I've thought about it enough to write it five times. The simple fact is that talking about hard things is not something that I enjoy. Oh, I'll get mad enough to tell my poor husband all about it, but I have a really difficult time writing it for the world to see. So, please bear with me.

Many of you reading this did not know me when I was growing up, so I'd like to set the stage for you just a bit before I tell you my story. We were poor when I was growing up. Government cheese kind of poor. It was a hard existence, but my parents managed to do the best they could. We weren't sleeping on the streets, and for that alone, I'm exceedingly grateful. I tell you this because I want you to understand where I and many others began life. Our lives seemed to be the farthest from privileged that you could get. Of course, I know that so many have it worse, but as a child, it left a mark on me.

From those beginnings to just a few years ago, I never EVER would have imagined that someone would have called my life privileged.

I was wrong.

So, here I sit with this incongruous knowledge of my past and my privilege, my WHITE privilege, and it's breaking me. I'm tearing up just thinking about it. How can life have been so hard, and yet so privileged? Well, I had to break it down for myself, so I guess I'll break it down for you, too.

Our family was never denied housing because of the color of our skin. We were free to shop and live in our community without being harassed because of the color of our skin. We never had anyone try to drive us from our home because of the color of our skin. I was never pulled over after I began to drive because of the color of my skin. I was never made fun of because of the color of my skin. I was never laughed at for applying to college because of the color of my skin. I was never chased out of church because of the color of my skin. I was never denied access to vote because of the color of my skin. I was never followed through a store because of the color of my skin. My family never thought of me as less because of the color of my skin. I was never assumed to be a criminal because of the color of my skin.

Quite simply, the American Dream existed for us because of the color of our skin, whether we were poor or not. If we could afford to do it, we could do it. And, my family DID do it. My parents worked hard and lifted our family out of the poverty of my youth. They worked so very hard for that, and I'm grateful. They raised four kids that graduated high school and went either to college or the military. While my parents are not wealthy, they managed to own a home and raise four children in America. That is the American Dream: Freedom to do what you want with your own life. We were so privileged, and it breaks me.

So, 2020 being what it is, I have had a great deal of time to do nothing but think, watch tv, and scroll social media. I have seen people die for doing simple things that I take for granted every day. I can exercise in public, I can go to the store, I can even go home and sleep without fear of attack. My children can leave the house, and I don't fear that they will not return. How my heart aches, friends, for those moms who cannot say the same. The American Dream does not exist for them. It has turned into a nightmare.

So, what do we do with this information? As I see it, we really only have three choices.

1. We can pretend that we don't know the truth, and go on living life as it always has been.
2. We can acknowledge the truth and vow to do better going forward.
3. We can actively fight for the equality of our black brothers and sisters. They need white voices to help carry the message and burden of their battle. It's been a long battle, and they're tired. In whatever capacity we are capable of helping, we should.

I'd just like to end this by saying that we all have to come to terms with racism in our own lives and homes. You might not even be overtly racist, but just deny your privilege like I had been doing. Until we can all be honest with ourselves, nothing is ever going to change. Until white people admit that there is a problem, the problem will only get worse, and we will be kicking the can down the road for future generations to solve. Won't they have enough problems without inheriting ours? It's time to do something about systemic racism in our homes and in our nation. Enough is enough.

Take a Break

Hello, friends.

How is quarantine treating all of you? Are you okay? Have you completely run through your collection of quarantine snacks? Is your family driving you crazy? Have you discovered anything new or interesting about yourself today?

Well, today has been an interesting day for me.

It's not often that I am faced with my own mortality, but here we are.

Today,  I remembered one very important fact about my own life: it will end. Everything that I consider so important will be seen for what it really is, a distraction from much more important things.

What has me so somber and melancholy today?

I finally realized how deadly COVID-19 would be for me personally.

I've spent a great deal of time over the last several days and weeks preparing my home and family for quarantine. We've shopped. cleaned, and prepared. I've lectured my family over and over again on the importance of washing hands, something that I've done as a habit since being diagnosed with an autoimmune disease years ago.

While doing all of this preparation, I've put myself at risk, but I've been taking normal precautions like washing my hands and staying away from sick people. Today, I'm wondering if it's been enough.

I've had a bit of a sore throat and an occasional runny nose for about a week. This is not unusual for me, as I have allergies, and everything is blooming here. The real issue is that my immune system is becoming overwhelmed. Not only are my allergies raging, but I'm now experiencing typical autoimmune issues as well. My psoriasis is picking up, I'm itchy, my body is aching, my mouth is hurting, my brain is slow, my eyes are twitching, and my sleep is either all or nothing.

I realized for the first time this morning that I am afraid.

I'm afraid to go out. I'm afraid for my family. I'm afraid for myself. I wish I could deny these things, but I can't. I have found myself in a place of fear, and I'm trying so desperately to find a way out.

But, what can I do? How do I dig myself out of this pit of despair? How do I make myself keep going when all I want to do is isolate with the cat?

I remind myself who I am.

I am a mom, so I have kiddos who depend on me.

I am a wife, so I have a husband to love and care for.

I am a daughter, so I have parents that love and sometimes depend on me.

I am a sister, so I need to check in with my siblings to make sure they are okay.

I am a friend, so I need to lift up my friends and encourage them in these uncertain times.

Most importantly, I am a child of God. He has me. He knows me, and what I'm going through. He is not surprised by anything happening to me or anyone else. He holds me and whispers the truth in my ears as I spiral into an anxiety freefall.

You are mine.

I'll never leave you.

I've got this.

Nothing is too big for me.

I've got a plan.

Fear is not from me.

Trust me.

Faith is a journey, not a destination, friends. Sometimes we find ourselves in dark and desolate places and we fear that God has forgotten us. We worry, complain, and fear. All the while, God waits patiently for us.

Longing for us to come to Him.

Gifting us with what we need before we even ask or realize what He's done.

The truth is, we never know what each day holds. We wake up each day and believe that we are in control of ourselves and what happens to us. We go about our days making decisions to keep ourselves from harm and to make our lives easier, all while neglecting the reality of our mortality.

Maybe this time of contemplation is a gift. Maybe taking extra time and effort to be with our families is a blessing.

Maybe it's a wake-up call.

However you are spending your quarantine, I urge you to spend a few moments with yourself. Contemplate uncomfortable realities. Ponder the big questions. Maybe even listen to your favorite 80s music while having a conversation with the Almighty.

You never know, it might be just the break you needed.

Unraveling a Mom

Have you ever seen a rope come unraveled? It doesn’t just suddenly break. It takes its time. Section by section, cord by cord, it frays. The whole rope starts to lose its grip as each individual section breaks. Suddenly, catastrophically, the entire thing crumbles because it can’t bear the strain.

People often unravel the same way.

How?

Well, let me begin here...

It's Christmastime! It's the season of all things jolly and cheerful. The lights, trees, goodies, parties, and gifts are all part of the most wonderful time of the year, and I must admit that Christmas is my favorite holiday. Who can resist so much beauty and magic?

Until I became a mom, I never really considered where all of that magic came from. It just shows up with the first snow, right? What a surprise it was for me to realize that parents are the great magic makers in this life! Don't get me wrong, God's mercy and unbelievable gift are the most magical parts of the holiday, but all of the trappings that go with it rest solely on the shoulders of parents. In our home, "parents" most often means "mom," and not just at Christmastime.

Moms bear the majority of the emotional, and oftentimes physical, burden of raising children. It's just who we are. I don't believe that you can carry around something for almost 10 months of your life and not care about what happens to it, especially when you hear it's very heartbeat from inside of you. You feel every kick and hiccup. Then, when that beautiful baby emerges, us moms instantly go to work despite our tired, sore, and often stitched together bodies, and we love that child. Of course we carry the emotional burden of caring for this precious gift! What society, and often our own families, fail to recognize is that that burden of caring never quite goes away for the mom. They may be taller, smellier, and harrier than us, but we moms still see the tiny babies they once were and worry and care for them.

So, how do you unravel a mom? Much like a rope, it happens a little at a time. Women are doing more than ever before. We are working inside and outside of our homes. Many of us have a side hustle, too. We are still doing the lion's share of the housework and child rearing. We are making Christmas magic. We are trying to take off, or keep off, that extra 10 (or 20) pounds. We are trying to maintain friendships. We are trying to be good siblings. We are trying to be good daughters, or daughters-in-law, to aging parents. We are trying to care for our own bodies, which for some of us is quite the job. We are trying to be good wives to our husbands. We are trying to continue our education. We are trying to be good pet moms. We are trying to fix, build, or remodel our own homes.

In short, we are trying to do it all, and be everything to everyone. So, if even one or two of the things on the list become seriously out of whack, us moms find ourselves in serious trouble.

Suddenly, we can't bake cookies for the church party because we have a sick kid. We can't make it to work because the car is broken. We can't check on Grandma because we hurt ourselves at the gym. We can't make dinner because we have become so run down that we are now sick ourselves.

A mom becomes unraveled when several things begin to back up on her.  Any mom can handle one sick kid, but what if two of the kids and dad get sick? Any mom can handle doing the dishes, but what if the dishwasher, the toilet, and the car all break on the same day? Any mom can make goodies, but what if she is sick, her oven is broken, and no one has gone to the grocery store? Do you see? Wouldn't it be nice if life handed us one problem at a time so we could deal with it and move on? I don't know about you, but my life, especially lately, has not ever been that cooperative.

Friends, as I write this to you today, I find myself in this situation. I am harried and short tempered. I am surly and tired. I am still sick and overwhelmed. I am unraveled.

My baby is sick. Again. She's been sick constantly, it seems. My husband is not doing well, waiting for a gallbladder surgery while recovering from his flu-like illness and sudden heart issue. One of our toilets is broken. Our garbage disposal needs fixing. We have had our car in the shop many times in the last month. I am still coughing out my lungs. Our Christmas tree just went up, and there is only one present bought to go under it. I have not baked anything. I have not planned anything of consequence. In short, my Christmas season is looking a bit bleak.

Do I write these things to you for your sympathy? Do I think that I am the only one facing such problems? Am I completely blind to all of the blessings surrounding me?

No.

We are blessed.

I am blessed.

I have such wonderful friends to pray for me. They continuously lift me and my family up in prayer and with good thoughts. I could not be more blessed by them.

I might not have it all on Christmas, but I am blessed. The world around me might crumble, but I am blessed. I might lose everything, but I am blessed.

I must admit, the world does have me down. I feel unraveled and like I need a break. You might feel that way, too. I am embarrassed to say that I might have had one or two meltdowns, and there have definitely been tears, but I know that all of this is temporary. Nothing lasts forever. My God is still on His throne. He owes me nothing, and yet He still sent His Son.

That is what Christmas is about. Through it all, He remains. Though I might fail, He never does.

So, this Christmas, no matter what your situation may be, why not let the Savior be with you?  Let Him comfort you in your time of need. Let Him hold you as you cry. He has a way of putting the frayed rope back together again. Maybe then, we won't feel so unraveled.

It would be the very best birthday present for someone who deserves everything we have to give.

Rejected!

Today I received my first rejection email as a writer.

To say that I'm upset is an understatement. I am morose. I feel dejected. Both my heart and my head hurt.

I guess I should have started this in another way. Hold on. Let me start over.

Hello, friends. Happy Wednesday! How is everyone today? Me? Well, that's a little complicated.  Please, let me explain.

Many of you know me, but some of you don't, so let me introduce myself. My name is Ami Crowder: wife, mother, and blog writer. We have recently moved from Illinois to Florida to start our lives over. It's not going as well as I'd hoped. 

Do you remember when you were little, and everyone would ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up? I remember. I only ever said one thing: "Teacher!" I said it as loud and proud as I could to anyone who would listen. To me, there was no better life than being a teacher. I loved everything about school, and I wanted to spend my life there.

Clear-cut and decisive! Yes! I know what I want to be, now let's do it! Nothing was going to get in my way.

(Do you hear God laughing right now? You really should hear it. He's absolutely rolling on the floor.)

Did I become a teacher? No, I did not. To sum up, life happened. Life often goes its own way, and we just hang on for the ride. Plans get pushed aside, dreams get postponed, and priorities change. 

It's okay.

Really.

 I love my life and my family. But, now that our children are older, I'm trying to pursue some of my own hopes and dreams. I have recently re-enrolled in college to become a teacher. It's a monumental step forward, and it makes me both excited and nervous. I'm sure to be the oldest person in all of my classes, but that's fine by me. It's inspirational to see people who refuse to give up on their dreams, and my girls are watching. 

So, why am I bemoaning being rejected today? 

Sigh.

I love to write and read what other people have written. All. Of. It. I read everything, and have always had an affinity for reading and writing. It came so easily to me, that I thought that this surely must be why I couldn't decide on what to do with the rest of my life.

I WAS REALLY MEANT TO BE A WRITER!

So, instead of making poor decisions and having life interrupt my dreams, I thought I was just chasing the wrong one. So, it's okay if those other things passed me by, because I was really meant to be a writer.

The rejection felt like a slap in the face. Did I really get it wrong again, God? What is your plan for me? Where do I belong? Why did you make me this way if I can't use what you've given me?

But, the truth is, I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. That sounds so silly coming from an adult, doesn't it? I'm going to school to become a teacher. I do love writing, and someday I hope to finish my novel. I enjoy this blog. Naturally, I'm a curious person and interested in so many things. My girls laugh at me because I enjoy Ted Talks. I listen to them for fun. Imagine! 

But, what if we're not meant to be just one thing?

In life, we wear many "hats." I'm not just a wife, I'm also a mom, sister, daughter, friend, aunt...  

The list goes on and on. So, why do we approach our careers as if there can only be one, quickly picking the first thing that interests us and sticking with it for life? Why do we think we are supposed to have our whole lives figured out at 18 or 20 and never change? I can tell you that I've changed a great deal since I was 18. I could never have imagined the direction my life has taken, both good and bad. 

We try so hard to plan it all out, don't we? We try to control everything and hope that we will achieve our idea of success. But, what is success? The definition of that changes as we get older and our priorities change. So, the idea that we can see what will make us look and feel successful throughout our lives when we are only 18 is really absurd. Why do we pressure ourselves into trying to have it all figured out anyway? Part of the joy in life is the journey.

I have to admit, when I started writing this today, I was having a really rotten day. I felt like a failure at life. Some days are just like that, I guess. What if every time something unexpected happens in life, I just yell, "Plot twist!" and move on? That might change my perspective a bit. Unfortunately, change happens, and it's not always what we would consider for the better.  Sometimes, we might even feel like we've hit rock bottom, but that doesn't mean we have to stay there. One of my favorite authors is very open about this subject, and sums it up nicely.

Rebuilding a life is tough. It's a lot easier if we cut ourselves some slack, and realize that we don't have to have it all figured out. I'm working on it. Meanwhile, God will be there for me, and so will my amazing support system of friends and family. They make it possible to pursue my dreams and go after what I want. 

Jonah Hill in Superbad

Being rejected can be one of the worst things to ever happen to you, or you can use it as a turning point. It's up to you. As for me, I'm going to use this rejection as a lesson in what not to do, learn to be a better writer, and move on.

What about you? 

Do you have an amazing rejection story? Let me know in the comments below.