Surely, all of these thorns must lead to the opening up of some extraordinary beauty.

 At times there are challenges in life that seem nearly impossible to overcome with grace. These past two weeks have been full to the brim with lessons regarding these things. About two months ago Josh and I took a h-u-g-e leap of faith. We decided to leave our town of Kirksville, MO. where Josh had a steady full time job and I had a steady part time job. We felt drawn to Columbia, a larger community about an hour and a half south of where we were living. Columbia is where our midwife is located, as well as the home campus of the college I am currently attending. Columbia is also where Josh had lived before moving to Kirksville. Our hearts felt connected to Columbia in a way that they had not in Kirksville (not to say that our hearts are not indelibly connected to certain friends and family in Kirksville). In the the two years of our relationship Josh and I had dreamed of moving to Columbia, then sometime in the very early spring of this year something pushed us to take the leap.

We took this leap not knowing where we would land, and these last few weeks have been a tumultuous fall full of flailing and grasping for security that could not be obtained through concrete objects like monetary funds. Prior to last week I was utterly wrapped up in the completion of my school quarter, which offered distraction from the hardships at hand. The week after finals was an unravelling of sorts. All of the issues that I was able to zone out came rushing in and all around me. I felt drowned in uncertainties. Upon consideration of our finances we found that we had around $100 left of our savings, with no prospective income in sight (as Josh has not been able to find a job yet). This meant that we had no idea where our rent money would come from for the month of June, let alone how we would feed ourselves and the growing being inside of me. The reality of this hit me quite hard, I found myself, at least once a day for several days, climbing the stairs to our bedroom where I would nestle beneath the covers to sob out prayers. My prayers often times consisted of nothing more than "Please, please, please be with me Mama, please help us," because honestly I had no idea what else to say.

The isolation that I felt during these times was nearly unbearable. Every fear that hid beneath the surface would come to light and I felt utterly alone with the pervasive voices of negativity. I felt that I could not talk about these challenges we were facing for fear that we would be shamed and thought foolish, that statements like, "You knew that this could happen when you made this decision" would arise. I felt alienated from Josh because of the differences in our worldview and this led to some conflict in our relationship that exacerbated the emotional stress we were experiencing. I felt I had no where to turn except inside, which led me to my Divine Mother. She is me and I am her.

I took to writing a lot, with much fervent ferocity, and no formality. Scribbles of every thing that would run through my head as my pencil moved across the pages of my journal. I meditated at least once a day, and in a variety of ways. And I prayed, prayed, prayed, and cried A LOT. I sought guidance from the internet community I have grown to see as my network of wisdom. Posts would come along that spoke deeply, and so personally, to the situation in which I found myself. Most importantly I allowed myself to accept this hardness.

One of the themes that has come up in my journal quite frequently here lately is the idea of coming into my own, of claiming all of myself and my experiences. I have felt the need to embrace not only my beautiful, graceful parts-- those parts I allow and hope others see, but also to gently love and cradle the messy, tumultuous, often hidden parts of myself and my experiences. These last two weeks have allowed me to explore these lessons with much intensity and depth. I can honestly say with my whole heart, I am learning so much.

I truly believe that all of these sharp bits in life lead to a beautiful blossoming of something extraordinary. I have faith in that. It is as Christine Kane says,

There's not a single thing that's turned out
Quite like I intended
And so you learn that holding on
Is nothing less than panic
When big things fall apart
Then hearts get that much more gigantic

I am going to keep telling my story, no matter how messy it gets. And I just want to say thank you for listening, I love you dearly and would be delighted to experience your stories with you if you would care to share.