When I was younger, my favorite time of year was Spring/Summer...or let's call it like it is...the 8 months of the year that are triple-digit temps in Houston. I loved that it was hot, there was no school, you could spend all day at the pool, go to the lake, and so much more. It was a season of renewal. But, let's face it...Summer is a bit of a selfish season. It's all about the bikini body, fun, and freedom.
Maybe it's a sign of me aging (I know I know... not old...yet), but the past two years, Fall has wedged it's way into my heart. I think it shows that my priorities have changed over the years. Fall is when the holidays start and family events begin. I love the food, the decorations, and the idea that family, friends, and love really matter.
Also, Fall has become the season that reminds me of new beginnings. Two years ago in October, I met my favorite person :). We spent the Fall and Winter learning about each other and ourselves. That same year, I was able to venture to India where I met some amazing girls that touched my heart. My life has never been the same, and I thank God for Fall 2009.
When I came back from India, first, I looked to see if a certain someone had emailed or messaged me! Then, I thought, how do I bring this fight back to the states. I had seen the Red Light District and the homeless suffering. But I had also seen girls rescued to the light and men determined to spread love to a country.
Almost two years later, it feels like a dream. India was the most amazing experience of my life. And as much as I want to be there, hugging these sweet, amazing young woman, I know that I am an advocate on this side of the world. That is why I run. As the air cools, I am reminded of packing by bags, and heading across the world.
We are here for a short time. How do I want my time used? I want to do something extraordinary. I want to do something that lives beyond my years. So I run. I run for every girl in India that has been told her life is worthless. I run for every girl that needs to know she is a daughter of the King.
If you want to be a part of something that will last for eternity and will leave a legacy of love across the world, please consider donating. You can donate to As Our Own by clicking the title of this blog or copying this into your browser https://iwillrun.myetap.org/fundraiser/houston/individual.do?participationRef=977.0.134245405. I promise, you won't regret leaving your legacy.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Monday, October 17, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Who is Diane?
She was wearing a black blouse with beading around the collar and a black skirt that rustled with the breeze. She wanted to feel pretty, but hoped no one noticed her sitting alone in a crowded restaurant. Her hair was swept up and pinned back. She took her time getting ready that night. It was a special night, but she was in no rush as no one was waiting on her. A single piece of birthday cake sat in front of her as she wrote.
"Today is my 31st birthday. I wonder how I will one year from now. ... Will I ever smile a genuine smile again?"
Her words filled the front and back of a page in a signature book at the girly restaurant decorated with colors of gold and chandeliers. While others signed with notes of "Had a great time!" or "Great food!," she filled the last page with a tragic story of loneliness and abandonment.
After 12 years of marriage her husband had left her for another woman.
"He found someone who could give him what I could not," she wrote.
The man that once promised her in front of God, family, and friends to cherish her, left her feeling worthless.
"I need a spiritual uplifting," she cried for help. "I hope I see you next year, and I hope I can smile again - Diane," she finished a the bottom of the last page.
Who is Diane? At a dinner with a friend last night I read Diane's story tucked away in the pages of the signature book at a restaurant. I don't know what she was wearing that night, and I don't know what she looked like. I picture her as woman in black because her words, oh so eloquent, shouted of a woman that felt like she didn't deserve to pretty.
Who is Diane? Does she know she has a maker that will never forsake her? Does she know that she is loved?
Her story haunts me as I feel her pain. She gave 12 years of her life to a man. The facts amaze me. If she was 31 and married for 12 years, she was 19 when she said her vows. To fill two pages, she must have been alone. No friend would let her spend that time so tormented.
Who is her husband? Who is this man that swore his life to her to take it away. The thought frightens me.
Who is the other woman? What woman tore this family apart? What woman tore this covenant apart? Does she know that marriage was created to bond two people for life as Christ loved the church? Does she know that Diane is sitting alone in a restaurant in pain on her birthday? Does she care!?
Oh Diane, how I wish I could cry with you. How I wish I could share with you the love of a wonderful saviour and Father who weeps over your broken marriage and heart. I pray that you know that He's there. I pray that you know that there are people out there praying for you.
Cherish marriage. Cherish marriage as God does. Hold it sacred as the image we have of how He loves us. And please, please remember my friend Diane.
"Today is my 31st birthday. I wonder how I will one year from now. ... Will I ever smile a genuine smile again?"
Her words filled the front and back of a page in a signature book at the girly restaurant decorated with colors of gold and chandeliers. While others signed with notes of "Had a great time!" or "Great food!," she filled the last page with a tragic story of loneliness and abandonment.
After 12 years of marriage her husband had left her for another woman.
"He found someone who could give him what I could not," she wrote.
The man that once promised her in front of God, family, and friends to cherish her, left her feeling worthless.
"I need a spiritual uplifting," she cried for help. "I hope I see you next year, and I hope I can smile again - Diane," she finished a the bottom of the last page.
Who is Diane? At a dinner with a friend last night I read Diane's story tucked away in the pages of the signature book at a restaurant. I don't know what she was wearing that night, and I don't know what she looked like. I picture her as woman in black because her words, oh so eloquent, shouted of a woman that felt like she didn't deserve to pretty.
Who is Diane? Does she know she has a maker that will never forsake her? Does she know that she is loved?
Her story haunts me as I feel her pain. She gave 12 years of her life to a man. The facts amaze me. If she was 31 and married for 12 years, she was 19 when she said her vows. To fill two pages, she must have been alone. No friend would let her spend that time so tormented.
Who is her husband? Who is this man that swore his life to her to take it away. The thought frightens me.
Who is the other woman? What woman tore this family apart? What woman tore this covenant apart? Does she know that marriage was created to bond two people for life as Christ loved the church? Does she know that Diane is sitting alone in a restaurant in pain on her birthday? Does she care!?
Oh Diane, how I wish I could cry with you. How I wish I could share with you the love of a wonderful saviour and Father who weeps over your broken marriage and heart. I pray that you know that He's there. I pray that you know that there are people out there praying for you.
Cherish marriage. Cherish marriage as God does. Hold it sacred as the image we have of how He loves us. And please, please remember my friend Diane.
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