AN EMPTY BOTTLE

Those photos you see, the first image is me at just 21-years-old and the other is today. Valentine’s Day I will turn 28-years-old and as I edge closer to 30 I look back on my early 20s.

Here’s the deal with my 20s — I lost hope. Rather than running the race before me, I lost my faith to life’s tragedies from the deaths of siblings & loved ones. I remember the morning I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the face staring back at me. At 21-years-old I had completely lost myself to living a wayward life.

“Friends” and even some family excused my rebellious behavior, mind you it was completely out of character. MANY TIMES, it was even condoned while others in my life walked out. I wasn’t me anymore.

Stay with me on this part, but have you ever woken up in a shower? How about fully clothed and NOT remember how you got there? Odd, I know.

It had never happened to me either, until the summer after I had turned 20-years-old.

I found myself in the predicament of being fully clothed and having a shower head on with cold water running over me. I use the word “found” because to this day I may never recall all the details of how I got there.

I didn't know how long I had been there or even who's home I was in.

The worst part -- I was so lost (at this point spiritually, physically and emotionally) that I found it comforting.

Walking into my friend's living room with mascara running down my face was not a photo-op moment for social media, praise God there’s not a picture of that sight for you to see. The most important part though, I was truly in a friend’s apartment.

Me: How did I get here?

Friend: That's a good question.

I felt as if I were looking at one of those televisions from the late 80's and early 90's, (one of those with the dial knobs that resembled a microwave compared to today's flat-screens) and the only thing coming through was the black-and-white static.

By the expression on my friend's face my hangover stupor was obvious. My memory of the events from the night before were becoming fuzzier by the second and the smell of my breath was a clear sign that alcohol was involved.

Unfortunately, no amount of antenna adjusting was fixing my clarity.

Friend: Katie, you drove here.

The bigger question was why did I let everything get to this point? Yet, I had now found a way to literally forget life itself by becoming black-out drunk.

The repercussions of this would be monumental, but at that point I didn't care. Blacking-out seemed better than reality. ANYTHING to take me away from the real world was #winning in my eyes.

The black-outs.

The drunken stupors.

The losses of memory.

All these self-destructive actions led to events that should have served as wake-up calls, but I was too lost in my own victim mentality to care. It wouldn't be until almost a year later when my darkest pain would occur. A pain that would cause every fiber of my body to regret all my self-destructive patterns.

The point is that I have a past.

You probably have a past, too.

We all have a past and if you find that you are around “friends” whom condone your outlandish behavior I desperately ask you do some deep self-reflection.

It’s not too late, your life IS worth saving!!

Do not be defined by your circumstances and DO NOT allow life’s tragedies to tear you down. Stand firm on a foundation built on promise and purpose because if you have oxygen in your lungs, then, you have a purpose to live out.

My friend, you are an overcomer. Believe me when I say you are worth more than an empty bottle.

You are courageous and I know the light is too dim to see right now, but by a mustard seed of faith ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE!!

Don’t give up!! I know life is hard, but when you have hope and keep persevering God will answer the prayers of what it is you NEED.

Have faith, it will make you well. Maybe not in your time, but at God’s perfect moment He will answer. You just HAVE to keep persevering and keep your trust in Him.

Imperfectly Yours,

Katie

SHE CHANGED EVERYTHING

She doesn’t care about the medals I have from the marathons I’ve ran; not now at least. 

One day I’ll tell her all the stories of the adventures mommy took as a collegiate athletic training student & trainer, the journeys I’ve taken as an adult athlete, the stories of being a running and fitness coach, and the stages I stood on competing in fitness competitions. 

YET, those stories would mean nothing without the glory of God in them. Those adventures and journeys are worthless if the finish line for Christ is not where the eternal glory lies. 

One day, she will know my why and reasons and that day will be glorious to tell. 

The honor I strive to bring in stride and the praise to God I try to set an example of doing for her to learn from is what’s important. 

Until those days, I live in moments like this. I live for the moments of her gazing in my eyes and her tiny fingers learning my face — I never want to leave these moments. 

I see myself through my daughter’s eyes and the super powers I gain are beyond his world.

My girl. She changed everything.

Imperfectly Yours,

Katie

PURPLE PICNIC PIZZA EATER

She draws me in — EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

Seriously, like a bug to a freakin light.

I CAN’T TURN AWAY!!

Maybe it’s her feet. The way that she crosses them just so, one foot over the other. How about that placement? She even has one foot fully planted on the ground. She’s not even straining!!

WAIT!! 

I think it’s the PURPLE flowers. Her favorite color is purple and don’t you dare tell her otherwise, I learned that the hard way. It’s all fun and games until you jokingly make it seem realistic that purple can be someone else’s favorite color. 

“NO, MOMMA!! PURPLE IS GRACIE’S!!”

I’m off track though. 

#MomBrain

BUT SERIOUSLY — those flowers. See how she placed them right beside her Elsa plate? 

“Momma look. THEY MATCH!!”

OR — maybe it’s the fact she took it upon herself to even create this picnic. She’s 2 1/2 years old, but most days I wonder how old her soul really could be.

Oh my goodness!! Look at how she leans ever so gently. She has methodically placed her back left arm with most of her weight centered on the heel of her hand. 

She charismatically smiles and laughs with her imaginary friends before she verbally states, “You see em momma?! Gracie use imagination.”

Then, she overly exaggerates her head nods — as if saying “yes” to herself about the imagination thing.

Did I mention she’s only been around for TWO YEARS AND SIX MONTHS?!?

It could possibly be how she eats with such focus. She picks up each piece of pizza as if it were her last meal. Looking it over and making sure she can’t see any of her self-concluded pizza imperfections.

She makes me giggle.

And smile, a lot.

Y’all, my girl does love her bows. She genuinely loves to wear a bow every single day!! 

BUT.

HONESTLY.

IT’S EVERYTHING!! 

She’s my little girl that lives in a dream world. I know that it’s not realistic for her to stay in her dream world forever, but for now — she can. I pray I let her stay there as long as possible before growing up becomes a permanent state of affairs.

The best part, she likes to bring me into her dream world. It’s full of a lot of story telling and imagination. I know it’s not a livable world, but sometimes it’s what makes the real world viable. 

For brief moments we get to believe in the magic of fairy dust, that a Babylon candle will transport you through time, that the tik-tok of a clock resides in the belly of a crocodile, and that I am Momma Olaf.

Yeah, I like our dream world. 

One day, I know, we will both have to wake up and smell the coffee — BEFORE I add my off-brand caramel macchiato creamer.

Until then, we will continue living for purple picnic days. 

AND — on really, REALLY good days we will eat the pizza GUILTLESSLY. 

I truly love our little dream world.

Imperfectly Yours,

Katie

THE MASK OF A SMILE

Society says to look for the ones with upside down smiles 
Because they need more love than most. 
The frown may show darkness during the light, 
But the mask of a smile can cover a multitude of terrors.

Society says "CHEESE" as if smiling were a placebo, 
But the mouse only got the cheese by being trapped into it’s death.

You’ve become lost.

You’re locked inside a house without walls 
And still searching for a keyhole. 
You’re the lock and key to your silent hell, 
But can't see your fear of breaking through invisible walls
     is keeping you buried alive.

When the dream of today becomes yesterday’s loss--
And the desire for tomorrow becomes too high a cost, 
Then the pain of loss has higher appeal--
Than the desire to dream at all.

The dreamers become afraid dreaming
And the analytical ones find answer in dissolution.
Where does one go now?

When you’re at the lowest end of the market--
     from every angle in the spectrum--
You only have one option.

LOOK UP.

Look up so you can get up. 
Get up because you can stand up. 
Stand up because you can run toward the light 
And leave those invisible walls behind.

Tread lightly. 
Be cautious.

Keep smiling 
Because you never know--
Maybe you’re the mask of a smile 
     you were suppose to change all along. 

Imperfectly Yours-
Katie

CHASING THE REAL REEL WHEEL

We’ve become so entranced with a facade of perfection that we, too, have stopped giving humanity a chance. Highlight reels have become hamster wheels and we’re chasing the impossible.

We’re no longer accepting of the bad days because we think they don’t coincide with the mountains we’re chasing. Don’t you realize the bad days are where strength is gained to climb the mountain?

Besides, you can’t remain on a mountain forever. Don’t you know that even volcanoes erupt when the stress is too much? Then, they take centuries to build up again — what makes you think that we are any different?

The process of preparation is no longer accepted by man because instant gratification isn’t fast enough anymore. What is enough if you aren’t satisfied even when you reach the mountain?

We have to get back to the raw reel of people instead of the highlight reel. Yet, it starts with yourself. Scars tell the tale of someone who is still standing after they’ve won the battle. Even soldiers have war stories and it’s in those stories where respect is gained.

You are a soldier in God’s army, tell your story, you never know who you will inspire to pick up their shield, pick up their sword and go to battle for the greater good.

Imperfectly Yours,

Katie