The Project of Me

This weekend I went on a solo-staycation (more to come on that later). I spent the day at a state park not too far from home. My family went on multiple camping trips there when I was young, so my mind was flooded with nostalgic memories when I arrived. The park seemed so much bigger and further away when I was little... funny how that works. I took a long walk and eventually found a spot to sit and put my feet in the water. I noticed some small shells in the sand by my feet and another childhood memory came to mind. I remembered swimming in the lake as a child and finding several of these same kinds of small, clam-shaped shells. I spent that day seeing how many I could find, collect, and take home with me. To my young imaginative mind, it was like finding buried treasure. They were so important to me, I believe I may still have some in a memory box. As an adult, I held that shell in my hand and the difference between then and now struck me. I almost hadn't noticed it. Even whe...

Sixteen years ago, yesterday, May 31, 2009, I had two unexpected seizures, was diagnosed with viral encephalitis (a brain infection), and admitted to Children’s Hospital for 18 days. For the next 8 years, I lived a normal life, free of seizures and side effects. I thought my story was one of miraculous healing. But in 2017, I started having seizures again and was diagnosed with epilepsy. Today, my seizures are controlled. It’s been 2 ½ years since my last one. I used to have a difficult time classifying myself as disabled because of that. But recently, I recognized that even though I don’t have seizures daily, epilepsy still affects my daily life. I have taken anti-epileptic medication daily for the past 8 years. I make sure to carry my rescue medication with me everywhere I go. I pack an extra set of underwear in my carry-on when I fly just in case I have a seizure on the plane and wet myself (it happened once). I’m prepared to lose my driver’s license at any time in case of a break...

Recently, I saw a post from someone celebrating her weight loss. But there was something very unique about her post- there was no "before" picture. There were just a few pictures of her, looking happy and feeling good in her own skin. Her success wasn't measured by what she used to weigh or look like. Her success was measured by how her weight loss made her feel. A couple weeks ago I picked up my one year coin for working on food addiction. It's been a long journey with ups and downs, literal gains and losses. One day at time, I've finally been gaining traction. So I wanted to do the same thing as that girl. But as I was summoning the courage, I found myself caught up in many of the lies society tells us about weight loss and body image. "You haven't lost enough weight yet to start bragging about it." That one's almost humorous. What's the magic number at which it's socially acceptable to start talking publicly about your weight loss?...

I brought some store-bought mini cupcakes into work for a baby shower we were holding for a coworker that day. I've been walking this journey of infertility for about two years now (really more like I've been begrudgingly stomping my feet). I knew it was going to be hard. But I felt like I could slap a smile on and power through. I even came up with an exit strategy just in case.  In the hour leading up to the shower, I felt my heart filling with anxiety. It had already been a stressful work day. I didn't have much emotional energy left to put towards this shower. I tried to delay going in, still deciding if I was going to participate. Then I started to hear coworkers ask, "Where's Lindsey?" And several started texting me as well. The anxiety got the best of me. Instead of going to the shower, I found a quiet place to hide and started to cry. I felt embarrassed for not going. I felt like everyone would be disappointed with me for not being there. I...

My husband and I have been walking the journey of infertility for nearly two years now (a drop in the bucket compared to some couples). I’ve been hesitant to write about it because people tend to respond by saying innocent, yet  stupid, things. Talking about it puts a target on my back for those well-meaning, but ultimately hurtful, comments. But recently I thought, maybe I SHOULD write about it precisely BECAUSE people say stupid things. Most of those comments are a combination of good intention and ignorance (lack of awareness). We need people who are bold enough to share their stories. Doing so breaks stigma, raises awareness, and shows others they are not alone. Maybe I can be one of those people. I thought I’d start by shedding light on some of those comments that seem helpful but are actually hurtful. What NOT to Say Playful Questioning: “When are you finally going to start a family?”  While it may be intended as a playful question, it can be extremely hurtful. I...

How do we reason with God when he is being unreasonable?  I have great plans for my life. I don't ask for much. I don't need a fancy house or car. I don't need a six figure salary. Just give me the basic American dream- husband, 2 kids, and the house with the white picket fence ( plus a couple dogs ). Nothing too extravagant or unreasonable.  I don't know why God decides my plan isn't good enough. But lately, time and time again, God hasn't been meeting my very reasonable requests. I have a hard time understanding why God has to be so unreasonable!  Surely I'm not the only one. Has this ever happened to you? What we do when God is being unreasonable? Here's what I think... First, explain the logic to God . Let's give God the benefit of the doubt. Maybe God just doesn't understand. If I logically explain why it makes sense for me to have it my way, surely he'll realize he was wrong and change his mind. "God, if I get this prom...