Alarms Clocks, Wet Socks, and Mahatma Gandhi.

I love a lot of things. 

But. I don't like some things. 

Like wet socks. 

And slow drivers in the carpool lane (Honestly! You get in the carpool lane to go faster in the first place and there you sit- crawling along with no out because you're trapped in by those solid white lines that you would "only cross when there aren't any cops." Not a whole lot of things worse than that. Except maybe driving with 4 backseat drivers. Ahem sisters...)

Or the sound of balloons popping.

Or being sung happy birthday to in a restaurant. (That ties with the carpool lane. It's excruciating.)

Or biting my nails and picking off my nail polish. 

You know you have some too. Big ones. Small ones. Things that bug you. Habits you wish you could break. 

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Sometimes I have random ideas. Sometimes I hear something and the wheels inside my mind start turning before I can even process what exactly I heard. Confused yet? Hear me out. 

Some people have it  with numbers or chemistry (like my brother....he's a genuis.) 

And some people don't.

Some people have it with cooking. They can take one sip of soup and know exactly what it needs to make it that much better (like my sister-in-law..)

Some people have it with design. They can walk into a room and know exactly what would brighten it up, make the contrasts sing, or make it feel as cozy as a fire in the middle of winter. (Like my sister...)

And some people don't. 

Some people can see a wound, hear a cough, or feel a hot forehead and immediately know the cure. (Like my other sister...)

Some people hear the first three notes of a song and immediately feel the rhythm in their bones and move as it brings life to their entire body (like, yet again, my sister...). 

Some people always know what to say, and what never to say without being told. 

Some people can make the puzzle pieces of life seem to fit perfectly together through a simple hug, or a look filled with understanding and empathy (like my mom...)

And then there's people like me. 

People who have none of that. People who feel all of that, but can't portray it in any of those ways. 

So we result to what we can do. We lean on what helps us cope. What reveals hidden answers and important life lessons. 

We write. 

Not for you (sorry, no offense intended), or him, or her, or them. Not for the world, or for our closest friends. Not even for ourselves. But for something even bigger. For creation and hope. For love and for understanding. 

We write to feel. 

And last night, it happened. That thing I was telling you about. I had an epiphany. Thoughts, words, sentences filled my mind faster than I could even blink my eyes. I was talking to an old friend, carelessly reminiscing through fond memories and talking about pointless nothings that always seem important in our minds, when he said  something he would never know struck me in the way it did. I found profound wisdom in his simple words. He said something along the lines of, "Alarm Cocks. Nobody likes them, yet everyone has one."

And it's so true. I know it's a weird thought, but think about it. 

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Remember those things I told you I don't like? Remember those things you thought of yourself? 

How many things do we have and do that we wish we didnt.  How many of those things do we wish we could pack up and throw away?  I mean, we all have some of those don't we? (Please tell me you do...or else I have some serious issues to work on...)

How often to we want change and actually do something to make it happen?

Yeah same here. Not often enough. 

So my thought for this week? 

My life is full of it. Ironically enough, the one thing that is actually constant in my life is change. I love it. And I hate it. (Sorry dad, I meant strongly dislike...)

It breaks me apart yet puts me back together. 

When I was a child I would change my outfit at least 5 times in a day. And I loved it.

And then I started growing up. And more changed. My hair got a little bit darker. My legs a little bit longer. My teachers a little bit nicer. 

When I went to high school more changed. My friends went different directions. My siblings moved different places. My clothes got a little bit tighter (Girls- didn't you hate when that happened? Oh the blasted curse of curves..) And I didn't love it so much. 

And now here I am. Years later. And my life has continued to change in miraculous ways. My heart has been broken, yet I've loved more than I ever thought possible. My eyes have seen things I never knew existed. My mind has grown in capacities I never imagined achievable. 

And all of that, has changed me. All of that, has made me stronger. Helped me grow and learn.

So here I sit. Thinking, wishing, hoping for and about change. 

Try it- I dare you.

What has changed you? 

What alarm clocks do you have in your life? 

What wet socks can you throw away? 

What habits can you break? 

What can you change...for the better? 

What will you do to change it?

Decide. Take a chance. Make it happen.  

And so will I.

And together, we will change the world. One alarm clock at a time. 

"We must be the change we wish to see in the world."

                                                  -Mahatma Gandhi

A Drought. A Best Friend. And a Glass of Cold Water.

I've been in a drought.

Have you ever ran out of water on a hike? What about in Lake Powell? Or anywhere in the desert for that matter?
Remember what that feels like? It's the kind of drought that leaves every pore of your body begging for help. For shade. For water. Oh if you could only have water.
The kind of drought that makes your lips crack and your throat burn.
The kind of drought that makes your eyes feel like they are slowly becoming dryer...and dryer... and dryer every time you blink.
(The kind of drought that happens everytime you even step one foot outside of your house in July in Phoenix...)

Remember that intensity? That cringe and crave for relief?

Well that's how I feel. Serious. That's how intense this drought has been for me. I haven't blogged in over a month. That's ridiculous. It's overwhelming. And frustrating.

I just can't write. And the most frustrating part is that I have so much to say...yet when I sit down I stare at a blank screen. And I have no idea how to get it out. I don't know where to start. Or how to finish. I don't know what to share or how to share it.

So.... I haven't.

I've avoided The Red Umbrella all together.

Rude. I know.

But it reminded me of how incapable I was. It reminded me of how empty I felt without it. It reminded me of how badly I wanted to come back.

So. I decided it's time to man up. I can't run from it forever. Drought or no drought, inspiration or no inspiration....I am going to write.

Writing is a de-tox for me. It unwinds my brain, separates my thoughts, and helps me see things a little bit clearer. It has a place in me and I in it. It's part of me, yet it takes me somewhere completely outside of myself. Weird I know.
I love it because there are no rules. I can put a period wherever I want.... or I don't even have to put one at all. No one tells me how to do it. No one corrects me. No one directs me. It's the one thing I get to do all on my own. Because I create it.
I get to make mistakes and figure things out in my own way. And it never has to be the same. It changes daily. Sometimes it flows nicely. Other days it comes in chunks. But that's totally okay. Because I change daily. Sometimes I'm well put together and other days I'm a mess. And I never know which it's going to be until my fingers hit the keyboard and I lose myself in my words. I never have an end at the beginning. And I never have a beginning until the end. It's an incredible revelation of self, of feelings, and experiences. It makes me me.

So let's see what it tells me today. Let's see what's deep down inside me wanting to come out.

First thing that comes to my mind.

This guy....

No- he's not my boyfriend. Take a breather. Now try again.

Nope, not even someone I'm dating. I don't do that much these days (it's okay to laugh- I've come to terms with the fact! Really, not even a big deal.)

[Oh and he has a very cute girlfriend that happens to be one of my very good friends :)]

His name is Jon. And he's my best friend.

I know I say that a lot. But this guy, he's truly somethin else. 

There are not too many people you can say you've known since kindergarten. And even less that you are actually still friends with. But hardly any you can call best friend. That's why I'm so lucky. 

So let me share.

I was having one of those days. Weeks. Couple weeks.....

I was busy. I was tired. Exhausted would be more accurate. I had 110 things to do, and not nearly enough time to do them. My mind was constantly racing. There were deadlines and due dates. There were birthdays and weddings. There was always this...and always that.

And then there was me. 

Feeling a little bit...inadequate. Not just because of the never-ending "To Do" list. But because it just so happened that all my roommates got boyfriends. And it just so happens that they're all on the cheer squad. So it just so happens they're gone a lot. Together. And it just so happens that my face broke out. And it just so happens that those few extra pounds just won't go away. No matter how hard I try. And it just so happens....you get the point. 

I haven't been feeling great. I haven't been depressed or anything, don't get me wrong...but I haven't been feeling great either.

Which is where HE comes into play. 

Example #1: It was a Friday night and I had just finished my 5 page paper. My roommates were all on dates. (Too bad I wasn't cut out for spirit fingers and pom poms eh?) My family was in St George spending a fun weekend together. And I was here. Feeling a little bit lonely. 

So I slipped into my sweats and flipped on the TV in an attempt at giving my brain somewhat of a rest. And that's when he called. Even though I tried to hide it, he could hear the sadness in my voice and said he'd be there in 10 minutes to pick me up. No if and's or buts about it. And he was. 

We spent the night with friends talking and laughing (and eating our favorite treats...). And that night when I came home, I couldn't help the tears from coming. Tears of overwhelming gratitude. Gratitude for a friend like him. Gratitude that he cared. That he truly cared that much about me.

Example #2: Today. But let's start with last night. Last night was just like any other. I had had a long day of homework, but spent the night at my best friend Mary's apartment, and it was really fun. I made Peanut Butter Fingers.. so naturally, when I got home, I called Jon over. We sat and ate and talked for two hours. 

He made me laugh. Yet we both almost cried (which believe me- NEVER happens!).

He could sit and listen to me talk for hours...and I could do the same with him. Because everytime we do I walk away feeling refreshed. Feeling like I have it all a little more figured out. Like it all makes a little more sense. 

...And today, I woke up to a text like this:

"...let's be honest I am the luckiest guy to have the most beautiful, amazing, caring, talented, and perfect girl in my life and that is you. I wouldn't be anywhere without you. I know that." 

He proceeded to tell me the guy I date will be "the luckiest guy on this planet. Everyone knows that, especially me. I love you rach. I promise everything will be fine..."

And that is why I get on my knees every single night with a heart overflowing with gratitude. For angels like him in my life. For family like mine who complete me. For blogs that inspire me. For writing that expresses me. For a mom who does everything for a me. For a dad who helps me in the midst of his crazy life. For a sister who laughs with me. For a niece that is always ecstatic to see me. For a brother who talks me through some of life's hardest lessons. 

And most of all for a loving God who gives me all of it. For a Savior who understands me, and loves me unconditionally. No matter what deadline I miss or what date I'm not asked on. He loves me enough to never give up on me. 

And that is enough to get me through life's toughest droughts. It's enough to make me want to be better. Try a little harder. Love a little more. And worry a little less. 

So until next time Mr. Drought, I'm off to drink my big glass of cold water.

Ta ta for now.