Not Too Bad, Huh?

Not Too Bad, Huh?

It was one of those days when I just wasn't feeling all that well. I left work early on a Saturday--thanks to some very thoughtful colleagues-- and just needed to get my thoughts right. My plan was to get a much-needed pedicure/manicure and to try to get a handle on some out of control stress. My pedicure guy and his wife, Anna, are from Vietnam; and it's worth the drive to Lake Norman to experience his expertise in reflexology. He is up in years, but is very acute with details. Somehow he always makes me feel like a rag doll when I leave. This in combination with the fact that he is not a big talker (unlike Anna) makes the experience Heavenly. So, this was the plan for, today; and chitchat was NOT in the plan! There I was grimacing and then relaxing as Anna's husband (I still don't know his name) was ramming his knuckles into my arches (believe it or not...it's actually a good thing ). I was enjoying the moment and feeling the constant knot in my stomach begin to subside when "The Plan" changed!

In he walked- a boisterous, highly energetic Latino who, as I soon found out, was approaching seventy (he looked at least 20 years younger). He was grinning from ear to ear, and that grin never left his face during his entire visit. I was definitely the minority in the room which is rare for a "nail salon". I was the only Caucasian female in the room and was also the youngest. Besides me, there were 3 men and Anna. To be honest, I felt a bit bizarre, but I was determined to block them out and enjoy the moment. The Latino man, who I will call Ricco, since I cannot spell or pronounce his actual name, made numerous attempts to chat with me. I was being a Scrooge and only giving one word answers and making almost no eye contact just hoping he would hush. When his attempts seem to fail with me, he turned to others in the room and was met with the same annoyance. He wasn't thwarted and his spirit wasn't dampered, but I still felt a little sorry for him. Being the heart person I am, I was moved by his predicament to engage in conversation with other people, and I felt badly for him sitting in his pedicure chair where he was not making friends easily. Crud! My heart always wins...which means my feet got to take a back seat. Doggone it! I began to talk to Ricco. This is how I found out his name. His story goes like this. He was born in "the beautiful Cancun", he still had a very heavy accent, he lived in Los Angelos but prefers North Carolina and small town life; and he recently became a U. S. citizen even though he has lived here for 50 years with a green card (some may pass judgment here, but Ricco was with the heart girl. Judgement is not her strong suit, and is both a weakness and strength for her; but it worked in Rico's favor, today.) Ricco shared that he had to learn 100 questions before becoming a US citizen. He said he only had to actually answer five during the interview. He said he completed this so fast in English that he did not have to complete all of the other interviewquestions. His reply to me was, "Not too bad, huh?" He, being vertically challenged like myself, told me of how proud he was of his 6'3" tall grandson... telling me what an awesome football player he was an saying "Not too bad, huh?" I also heard of the boat trips he takes on Lake Norman. One of his family members owns a boat and Rico is often included in the trips. To this he said "Not too bad, huh?" I discovered that he was actually a very good soccer player when he was younger. The reason he gets pedicures is because of injuries his feet have sustained. I asked if he was a good soccer player and he, of course, said, "Not bad" with a wink. 

What I discovered next made me tear up and almost cry. When he first came to America he worked at Universal Studios. There his job was to clean the movie reels. He used a very strong acid to do this (he didn't realize the danger at the time). One night, while he was doing his job,some acid spilled on his shoes. The acid ate through to his foot. He said he spoke almost no English then, and when he finally was able to get to a doctor he had to draw pictures to communicate. He spent four months in the hospital recovering. The doctor asked if he wanted to sue. Ricco said with a great big smile, "I have my foot! Why would I do that?" We spent the rest of our time discussing the Vietnam War and how proud he is to be an American. He even told me when he became a citizen he was asked if he would like to change his name. He said, "No I have a beautiful name! I can become a citizen in two days with the name I have now, but it will take two months to become a citizen with my new name.  So no thank you." He made me laugh and almost cry, but he made me proud to be an American! I thought I needed a pedicure, today; but what I actually needed was a Ricco to remind me what is important. Isn't it funny how the times when we think we are giving someone else a gift, they are actually giving us one. "Not bad, huh?"

Warrior Princess Slaying Her Dragons

Almost sixteen years ago an angel with the biggest, bluest eyes I had ever seen blinked up at me as I held her in her hospital blanket. Her labor was easy. She couldn't wait to arrive. I was making strawberry muffins for her brother at 7:00 a.m....and shazam at 10:23 a.m. I was holding her! She was so eager to arrive that she almost made her entrace to the world on an elevator. The doctor didn't have time to sterilize, and Nurse Cynthia helped Meleah greet the morning. This should have been my first clue. Even then, she was full of life and had such a strong willl. She was marching to the beat of her own drum, even then. She was a surprise to her father and me, though reflecting back I can tell you the exact moment that she decided to hitch a ride safely inside of me and to reside there for the next nine months! She grew under my heart and quickly grew inside of it!

On one of my early morning powder puff breaks with a colleague who is my dearest friend and mentor I told her that I thought I was pregnant. I was excited about a baby, but didn't know how we would make it work. I couldn't afford to come home from work. Our son was in private school which left us with very little extra resources at the end of the month; and there was no way to afford daycare. I had no answers, but I will always remember what Wanda said to me this day. "Lisa, your God is not unrighteous to forget your labor of love in that you have ministered to these babies everyday. You pour yourself into them and show them you love them and that God loves them. God would not allow you to care for these babies and then abandon yours." She then did something astounding that I have remembered many times as we have reared Meleah. She grabbed my hands and looking up at me with her gorgeous chocolate colored eyes, she said, "I am going to pray that God gives you a Deborah." I didn't think too much of it at the time, but oh how true this has proven to be! For those of you that know your Bible history you will know that Deborah was one of the 12 judeges in the Old Testament. She is the only woman mentioned in the esteemed Biblical leadership roles of: Disciples, Tribes of Israel, Judges, etc. She was a military strategist and an esteemed leader in a time and place where this was by far atypical. It was just not done. As it is recalled in Judges chapter 5, when Jabin the King of Canaan was going to attack Israel, Deborah gave a military plan that would counteract Jabin's attempt. Without delay the Israelites begin to follow Deborah's God inspired plan, Barak, Israel's military leader, would not even go into battle without Deborah. She asked him to allow her to stay behind so as not to take any of the glory from him, but being a wise man, he insisted that she come, too. As the story ends, Sisera, Canaan's military, leader was brutally killed by another woman, in this chapter. Her name was Jael. So, my daughter was being placed right in the middle of the story of these strong-willed, before their time, cutting edge women. I have often wondered why Wanda didn't ask for Meleah to be like Esther or Hannah or even Mary, but no... we have Deborah! "Deborah's" mama has had to learn to be Deborah too!

Meleah has never been afraid of anything. Her brother and I would stand wincing as she climed far too high in the trees and went far too fast down the hill on wheels that were zooming! She has always grabbed life by the tail and hung on with all she is and all she has. As a nurturer, I would love nothing more than to wrap her in a cocoon. Though she is a snuggler and very affectionate, she has never allowed me to smother her. She has always maintained her independence. Those of you who have raised strong-willed children will understand what an honor it is for God to think you are up the task. There are days when I wonder. You will also understand that there is nothing more beautiful than seeing this child grow day to day. They fight hard, they play hard, they work hard, and oh! they do love hard! Watching Meleah love is one of God's greatest gifts to me.

As of late, my girl and I have had to have some stand-offs...and I have to win as the parent. This is not fun. Breaking a strong-willed child is more painful than anything, but there are sometimes when follow-though is necessary. This is one of the hardest, most rewarding and most important things I've ever done. I have finally understood in recent days why God gave me a Deborah. We needed each other. I needed her to make me tougher, because whimping out at being her mom is not an option. She only has one mom...and God gave that job to me (and I am thankful everyday that He picked me for her). Likewise she needed me. Sometimes when she is out slaying her dragons and winning her kingdoms and being brave and strong, she will get wounded. I am her safe place to land until she is ready to fight again.

One day her prince will come; although, she may be the one to sweep him off his feet. I wouldn't doubt it! One thing I know for sure. He will not win her heart without a fight, and whoever he is...he will have to be strong, smart and willing to lose some sleep to keep up with her. I am not ready to relinquish her just yet...but this fellow is often in my prayers even now for wherever he is! During these moments ahead and as my little warrior princess is on the brink of starting her own adventure, I am enjoying a ring side view as I watch her slaying her dragons and standing up for what she believes.

This Song Reminds Me of Meleah

Twenty Three Years...

It will be twenty three years in June. Wow! I am only semi-inspired to blog about it, but I choose to because I don't want to forget this exact moment. Twenty three years was the last time I saw a friend who I adored and who crushed my heart, and I was never really sure why. It was the deepest heart break I have sustained. I guess that makes me very fortuante. This friend and I journeyed through junoir high and high school together..and were practically inseparable. We experienced pimples, driver's ed, school dances, proms, student council, butterflies in your belly as you embark on new adventures, loss, laughter, and the typical rites of passage for our age. We prayed together, worshiped together and planned for the future together; but one day I was no longer enough. I couldn't explain it. I still can't explain it or the feeling of not being enough. This hurt shaped many years of my life afterwards. It shaped my choices, my plans, my self-esteem and made me question and mistrust. I spent years praying that God would fix this, many nights crying myself to sleep, many moments wishing I could forget, and many days trying to fix it myself. Yet it wasn't fixed and it seemed as though God would not answer. I prayed for a simple of day of closure like, today. I asked for just a simple greeting or friendly gesture or a sign that all the years we were friends meant something. Funny! I got an extravagant greeting and a lot grace, today, but it didn't really matter to me. I think it was more significant to my friend than me. Strange as I think about it. Many years ago, I had so much pinned on this moment and how exciting it would be and what a relief it would be. The incredible thing is that I am more excited about the Mars Bar I bought at Jenn's Sugarlicious! LOL!

In truth, as I drove home after this brief moment of exchange with my "friend", I asked God. Why now? I don't believe in accidents. I just don't--especially when it is something so important to us. If it matters to us, it matters all the more to God. I heard Him say, It took your 23 years to shape you!! What? I began a journey 41 years ago that involved a lesson I was to learn 23 years ago. This heart break made me who I am. I've sustained tougher moments than this in 23 years. I sustained other rejections, and this moment helped me to know I wouldn't break (even when it felt like I couldn't breathe). This moment made me all the more compassionate, all the more careful to not hurt other people. In the past five years, I have learned to really love Lisa. I have learned to be me whether it is enough or not. So, I cry too much. Oh well! It just means I feel things strongly. So, I get a little nervous and worry sometimes, I always pull though, and this means I care. I have learned to like who God made me to be. I've learned that I am unique and fearfully and wonderfully made.

When I got home I, of course, researched the number 23 in scripture and spent some time in the 23rd Psalm. All of these are things are to be pondered in my heart. I share a lot about myself, because I truly and comfortable in my skin as of late; however there are few things that belong to God and myself alone. These revelations, today, are among them. I will remember them forever.

But I do have to say, as I was finishing my meditating, I heard Laura Story's song, "Blessings". I understand it all the more for moments like this that break your heart, and I love it all the more, tonight! "What if my Greatest Disappointments or the Aching of this Life is the Revealing of a Greater Thirst this World Can't Satisfy." I ran to Jesus all those tear-filled days and painful nights at such an impressionable time in my life, and I fell in love with Him. I found Him to be faithful and good and kind and present!! I found Him to be more than enough!! I found that there wasn't anything we couldn't handle together. I found that He was the best friend anyone could ever have. Healing does come through tears sometimes...and sometimes you don't realize you have been healed until 23 years later!


When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know that pain reminds this heart
That this is not,
This is not our home
It's not our home

'Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near

Showers of Blessings

I am up early this morning, which is not unusual as sleep seems to be somewhat of a chore for me, lately. My sweet grandson wanted to get up a little before 5:00 a.m.; however, he allowed me to persuade him otherwise. I was not so easily persuaded of my same message. LOL! In these moments when I can't sleep, I like to journal or blog and always talk with my Abba Father. He has never missed one of our meetings yet and always brings a hug to spare and some "out of this world" advice when I listen! 

This morning, I remember my Grandmother Pannell's sweet country voice singing "Count Your Blessings--Name them One by One---Count Your Blessings See What God Hath Done" and "There Shall Be Showers of Blessings". She wasn't an eloquent singer as she grew up in the mountains of N.C. There wasn't time for frivolities or fluff. You had to get right down to the essentials; and her singing reflected this same philosophy- but I loved it! I always knew she meant every word she sang to God with all heart. I also knew that at that moment He was really all that mattered to her, even though she would have walked through fire for any of us. He was her "All in All"! Ephesians 4:6. Though she was insignificant, I guess, by the world's standards, she was a tower house of faith to those who knew her. She still influences my life, today, and there is not a moment that my heart isn't pricked at the loss of her.

So, Grandma...I am counting my blessings this morning. It would take more ink and paper than this world could provide to complete them; but this is my meager initial listing as a record for posterity's sake and as a reminder to me of how faithful God has been to me at every stage of my life. In the moments when I thought my heart would shatter into a thousand pieces, in the moments when I thought it would burst with sheer joy, in the moments when I felt that I was alone in the dark with no one to rescue me and in the moments when I felt as if I could conquer the world myself...He was there. He will be there. He will never leave us. He will never forsake us (Deut. 31: 6).

1. I am super thankful, this morning, for Carter...Almost two years ago, I couldn't see how we would make this work in a way that would be good for him, for Tyler, for Erin for the Guffey's for us. I remember The Guffey/Montgomery family meeting. I remember the love we all had for each other and the strength we found from each other in that moment as we admitted we were vulnerable and we had no answers--as we admitted that we were in this together to see it through, quite honestly for the rest of our lives. We were taking this journey without answers, without seeing the future. We were taking it by faith and through God; and it has been so AWESOME! As I held our little peanut in my arms last night, my heart was filled with such love that it overflowed down my cheeks. I loved the smell of soap in his hair. I loved how his soft, little hands would brush my cheeks, twirl my hair or pinch at my chin. I love how his feet are never still...even when he sleeps. Having been here before with Tyler, Meleah, my nieces and my nephews, I was acutely aware of how fast this moment passes. So, I savored it. Though tired, I enjoyed every fleeting second. Thank you God for looking ahead in time and planning on Carter. Thank you most of all for loaning him to us for a little while, and may we honor you in directing him toward you in all we do and say.

2. I am thankful for my son, this morning. He will be working a double at the nursing home, again. He works very hard, and I don't think I could do his job. Between college, work, trying to continue to grow a relationship with the love of his life, Erin, and caring for Carter, it can be tough. I am proud of his strength, his work ethic and his focus! He isn't perfect, but that is what makes him great. He knows Who to turn to to help when he is weak. If we had instilled nothing further in him, having Tyler to know God...and I mean really know God would have been enough. I ask that you continue to provide Tyler and Erin with wisdom from You and give them hearts that desire You above all else.

3. I am thankful for my beautiful, spunky, more than slightly strong-willed daughter. She and her buddy are sleeping like rocks across the house from us at this moment. While I know they will not be gracing our presence for many more hours yet, I anxiously await their sleepy smiles and girlish giggles! I am proud to have worked with Jamie to raise a daughter that is so resolute and determined. She can push us to the boiling point sometimes, but down deep, I am always a little proud of her tenacity. Her heart will no doubt lead her into the health care profession; but she would have been an outstanding lawyer! Thank you God for giving me a daughter with a precious, tender heart and a strong, determined mind.

4. I am thankful for my husband. He is strong, yet kind. He is driven, yet his heart is easily moved. He has allowed me to draw strength from him when I was depleted. He has been my voice when I didn't have one. He has been the arms that held me when I needed no words. He is so predictable and steady! Sometimes this is annoying to someone who enjoys surprises and the spice of life, but it has proved to provide stability and security in our home---which is a priceless treasure. Even this morning, our alarm went off only moments after Carter had fallen back to sleep. We do not need an alarm on the weekend!!! But...alas, my husband is such a creature of habit, we got an alarm, this morning (by "we", I mean Carter and me. Poor Paw Paw got booted out of the bed...sorry Paw Paw). When it was resounding only a matter of 6 feet away from Carter...and MANY feet away from Jamie, I went into panic mode to get it to stop. For a moment, I felt a bit annoyed that he had it set it and wasn't in the room anyway; but then I recalled that this same predictability affords me the ability to NEVER set the thing through the work week when I do need it (providing I am not experiencing this ridiculous insomnia). In twenty two years, the only times I've ever set an alarm is when he and I have been apart; and this has been rare.  This little extra responsibility that he takes off my plate is nice! That in itself is a blessing! The good news is...Carter wasn't even phased. I am truly shocked! That alarm could wake the dead, but Carter slept through it. Of course, his Nina was on top of that alarm like white on rice. Lol! I am thankful for this, too!!

I could go on and on about my dogs, my family, the life experiences that I've been afforded, but as I said there isn't enough ink. or paper. or time. The impressive aspect of this moment is that I am actually getting sleepy. Thank you, Grandma for reminding to count my blessings! I think I'll sleep on them now!!

I'll Pick Up the Tab

It's been one of those intervals--the kind where you wonder if you can do anything right. It's like those fun kid rides at theme parks where you feel like you're moving at break neck speeds, but actually you're standing still and the room is moving around you. You still experience the nausea and the thrill, but you haven't advanced. The world has moved, but you have not-- even though you still feel pooped at the end of the ride.

We've all had those times where we tromp through hurt and frustration of some fashion or another. Sometimes it is persevering through the sting of someone's inconsideration. Sometimes it is when another person misrepresents us to paint themselves in a brighter light. Othertimes, it's when you get passed over and become the second choice. It's really hard in these seasons to extend grace. It is especially hard when you're hurt. Oftentimes, those of us who are fixers want to "fix it", make it right or provide an explanations. We may even want to even the score.

The good news is this: Intervals like seasons don't last forever, and for Believers like myself, we can afford to forgive and extend grace even when we ourselves are empty, hurt or even wronged--even when we are "Stuck in Moment We Can't Get Out of" as U2 says. The even better news is that we have someone bigger and stronger and wiser and more capable (all the and's were intended) to take care of us. He is more than capable of righting the wrongs in our life. He is more than capable of restoring and redeeming anything that we've lost or should belong to us. Our favor is in His hands, not in anyone else's...not even in our own hands. So, we run to Him, because He has plans to give us a future and a hope (Jeremiah 29:11) "...Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life." (John 6:68) "Whom have I in heaven but you. There is nothing on earth I desire beside you." (Psalm 75:25)

When you find yourself in a moment where you feel it necessary to defend yourself or to "fix IT", step back and reflect on what's to be gained? Is anyone else in charge of your favor? Your future? Your promotion? Is anyone else in charge of YOU? Is anyone in charge of any of this except God? This includes yourself and myself. Can I take care of me better than God? For the Christian, it always comes down to the question of faith. What do I believe? Who do I believe? Which report will I accept?

The world tell us that we must DO something. We must make it happen. We have to take care of ourselves or no one will. Well, for the Christian, this is not the case. In fact, to the degree that we do nothing in these situations is the degree we allow Him to handle it. It's the expression of our faith and our willingness to admit our vulnerability and His strength. It is our willingness or profess that we trust in His unfailing love. Doing nothing is doing everything. Jesus told Martha in all her laborings that Mary chose the better part, because Mary sat at Jesus' feet spending time with him rather than working to achieve something.  She allowed Him to "handle IT". He can handle our hurts, our short comings and our future with no problem. Afterall, if we can trust Him to be our righteousness, we can trust Him to be our everything else. The only thing we have been commanded to labor to do is to "labor to enter His rest" (Hebrews 4:11). So, even when we're weak or vulnerable we can still afford to extend grace, love and forgiveness that costs us something. We can allow another to go first while we go last, because the One Who loves us most will refill our tanks.  We can pick up the tab everytime! You can afford it! You'll find your account refilled everytime, and we can  "Let It Go" like Idina Menzel says.

As my sweet daddy used to say, "I have just preached myself happy, tonight, if no one else is." LOL! This is good advise tonight. I don't care who ya are!!

Ziel-Lor's Incantation AKA Image

Ziel-Lor's Incantation is an Orange Roan English Cocker Spaniel and retired show dog whose registration number is SR 14389607. That's a mouthful for the ten year old four-legged furbaby who has found her forever home with me. I know you think this is going to be a sappy love story about a dog that won my heart. Unfortunately, it is not.

Incantation was such a long name, that her former owners called her Image. I distinctly remember the day I met her. Having spent a decade with essentially no real pets, my husband finally agreed to allow me to get "one". I was able to have Meechie flown in from Kansas. Meechie is a spunky red and white Japanese Chin that makes me laugh daily. We only owned her for several weeks when I just knew that dogs were like potato chips: "You can't have just one." I always wanted a Cavalier King Charles (just FYI...I have one of those, too--His name is Windsor, and he is a snuggle bug. He is also the baby of the pack), and I was investigating breeders at the same time I was remodeling my house. It was on a trip to Lowe's that I saw the most striking Blue Roan English Cocker Spaniel, that I had ever seen. He was being socialized by a very astute handler. I asked many questions about this dog and discovered the breeders had an Orange Roan female who needed a forever home. Plans were already in the making for me to meet her.

Meechie and I ventured to the breeder's establishment and I laid eyes on Image. There she was. A three year old furbaby who had only ever known this family, and they did not want her anymore because she was getting too old to use as a show dog. She would definitely be retired by five, and they were getting a jump start on the process. She had won numerous ribbons for them (which I often enjoy holding), but they were ready for a new challenge, a newer model, something with more pizzazz. When I saw her, my heart didn't leap the way it did when I met Meechie or Windsor. She was the wrong color, larger than the dog I had met in Lowe's and not nearly as perky in my eyes. She was very obedient, though...almost too obedient. It was like her personality became what they wanted it to be and not her own. And her name? Really? Image? The mere definition means that she is a representation of the "real" thing. What an awful name. Image is THE real thing. Honestly, though, I didn't want her. I know this sounds crazy, but the very fact that I didn't want her is exactly why I have made a commitment to her for over seven years now. Crazy? Probably.

Let me explain. My thinking was: "How could you have loved a pet for three years, spent as much time as it took to get those show ribbons (she has a lot of ribbons and awards), feed her, groom her, care for her and then decide you wanted to discard her when she was only a few years a way from retiring where she could then be your pet?" This is still foreign to me. I thought if I didn't want her, who would? They had already tried to give her to another lady, but she wanted a dog with more personality. Even to this day, Image will correct me if I don't walk her properly on a leash. It's hard to bond with a show dog. There are too many rules and not enough freedom (there's a sermon in there if I had time to preach it). So, I figured I could do this job, and I have for seven years now.

I blog about this tonight, because I find myself in a unique place with Image. Yes, bonding with her took some time; but she adores me to the point that it can be overwhelming at times. She won't even leave my side when I bathe and is always under my feet. I love all my furbabies the same, but truth be known, I like them differently. I wish I could say I liked Image as much as the others, but she is harder to like. I care for them equally, express my love for them equally, but my heart sometimes betrays me. She has been a bit of a handful lately, as she has developed some habits I have never seen in her. Sometimes I wonder if she is developing Dementia. For example, she adores tissue and paper. She wants to eat it at all cost. We are forever playing the game of hide the trash and hide the tissue--which I have long since tired of. My best efforts of retraining her and purchasing enough bones and chew toys to sink a ship have only made little progress. Sometimes I look at her and wonder what my life would be like if I had not brought her home seven years ago, and I immediately feel guilty. I know she won't have many more years left, and I do want to make her last ones the best.

In closing, I just have to say, she has taught me a lot. She's taught me about me. She is the most costly to me of my three dogs not only in grooming fees but also in physical resources, lately. She seems to be taking more than she's giving; but as I sit on the floor with my three furbabies surrounding me I realize several things. She is the closest in proximity to me. While I look down at her sweet grandmotherly face and sagging eyes her stub of a tails wags profusely as I rub her extravagantly soft, graying hair. I believe she is thankful, and I am thankful, too. She has taught me that love is a choice not a feeling. She has taught me that you can commit to something that's hard even when it takes longer than you thought and when you're are getting less out of it than you should. One day, I know I will miss tripping over this full figured fur ball, and I will no doubt miss my extra floor adornment as I bathe. Mostly I will miss knowing that there is nothing in this world that this creature loves more than me...except maybe tissue paper!!! Uggh!

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

My brother and I were the only babies born that night in the Pasquotank area hospital at the Outer Banks of North Carolina. In such a small town, everyone knew when a baby was born...but being twins made us all the more special! For years to come, strangers would greet my mom, my brother and me in the grocery store and say, "Ohhhh....that's our twins!" This was lovely! I enjoyed being born in a small town where everyone knew everyone else and where strangers were still family.

My charismatic, charming insurance salesman of a dad soon decided that he was called to be a pastor. We left our little, quaint Outer Banks community and spent several years roaming from church to church from one end of our beautiful southern state to the other. I went from being one of "Our Twins" to "The New Girl" over night. I hated this more than anything. 

When my brother and I became adolescents, my parents decided to once again establish some roots. Afterall, the instability of raising two teenagers was enough of a roller coaster ride for my parents, and I believe God completely understood. He may have even found some humor in it all. It was during this season that we established deep roots in the western side of Gaston County. I was no longer the new girl! Yay!

I loved my new community so much that I completed my education there and became an educator in this same community. I loved it so much that I served there for close to two decades. I enjoyed going to the grocery store and seeing my students and their families. I loved having parents come up to me at community ball games and tell me they were requesting that their child be in my class the next year. I relished visiting the local churches to see my students perform in some play or special program of one sort or another. Everybody knew my name, and I knew theirs! I never wanted to leave my home again and had no plans of becoming "The New Girl" again.

Well, life is funny, and I've found that we can never say never. This year, I was "The New Girl" again. I was assigned to work in the Belmont area. It was like saying I would be working in Egypt. I knew nothing of Belmont except for my brief time at Belmont Abbey College where I obtained my undergraduate degree; and Lord knows I had my face buried in books the whole time then to maintain my 4.0 average. So, I knew little of the Belmont Community. I was quite nervous about the change.

I began getting to know the people I would serve, making myself available over and above what was required and generally being "The New Girl" who was trying to find her place. These past few months have taught me that those "New Girl" skills which I painfully acquired have been quite the blessing. I also found out that I ADORE my east side new family! They are so dear to me!

It was the past few days that I realized I am no longer "The New Girl". The revelation was precious, priceless and a bit emotional for me. As I was frantically making my way down the walkway of my high school to assist a teacher who needed me, I passed by a group of ROTC boys who were doing their routine drill and practice. I was trying to ease past them so as not to disturb their intense routine. It was in this moment that I heard, "Hey there Mrs. Montgomery! How are you, today?" A bit stunned I turned to see one of those sweet ROTC students calling to me. He knew my name! Then earlier today, I was walking to a classroom at one of my middle schools. I saw a small group of students socializing in between classes. I passed the group and one of the boys very sweetly--yet casually---said, "Hey Mrs. Montgomery." I turned to look at him and am still not 100% sure I know where to place him, but he knew my name. So, I hope that means when I taught in his class I showed him in that brief moment that he was valuable and that I cared. This is my commitment whether I serve on the east, west or anywhere in between.

I'm not "The New Girl" anymore! Yay me! Yay to the little Lisa inside of me who learned some valuable skills long ago. Yay to the more mature Lisa who was willing to adopt to another change in life! I am happy to retire this title for now, but I never say never. Who knows when I may get to wear that hat again and this time with all the more confidence.