Today is Good Friday.
It is one of only 2 days on the Australian calendar when the country takes a moment to rest. Shops stop selling, businesses close their doors and people take off to the country. I don't know what today means to you this Good Friday but for many Australians today is a time for family, a time to relax, unwind and have a few too many beers by the BBQ. These are all amazing things that I hope our culture never loses, it is a freedom so many in the world will never get and I have a cider sitting beside me as I write this.
But there is more to it than that.
Whoever you are, whatever you believe and whatever your thoughts are on Easter I want you to know I respect them and wish not to offend nor condemn anyone with what I am about to say. Please know that I love you all and think all opinions are valuable and encouraged so please don't disengage with me because of mine.
I have been attending church since I was adopted to a pastor and his wife when I was 5 months old. I became a christian when I was 4 years old and was baptised at 7. I attended a Christian school from year 1 to year 12 and I know all the bible stories back to front, so this God thing isn't new to me but there is one thing that gets me every single time.
Today I sat in an easter service with tears running down my face for the 22nd time in my life. You see, I cannot remember a single time that I have not been reduced to a blubbering mess at the realisation of the story of easter. So often I question my value, I look to men to validate my worth and I see myself mared through the lenses of society. I feel inadequate, awkward and unlovable most of the time and at the deepest part of my heart I wonder if I will ever truly be enough. I don't know if anyone else feels that way but today as I sat in that service I was overcome with a brand new wave of love. A love that has been washing over me since I can remember but a love that I so often choose to ignore. You see, today is not just about family or rest or chocolate, though they are definitely important parts (especially the chocolate), today is about so much more than that, Today is about God becoming a man and taking a break from the clouds to pick up the tab for the brokenness of humanity. Today is a story of hope, today is a story of rescue, today is a story that tells us that we are enough. We are worth dying for, we are not alone.
I don't know where you find yourself today, if you are surrounded by family and friends or trying desperatly to hold it together on one of the few days you cannot pretend you don't lack those very things. I don't know your story, I don't know the reasons you cry yourself to sleep a night or the insecurities that sit just below the layers of makeup you carefully apply every morning. I don't know why Good Friday may find you nowhere near 'Good'
But here is what I do know.
I know of both the divinity of God and the humanity of Jesus. I know that over 2,000 years ago a man laid down his life not only to buy you a golden ticket to some far off promise land but to take on the burdens you feel in your everyday. In your today. There is hope, and it is not whimsical or fleeting, it is strong like an anchor and rooted in the love of a saviour who cared deeply about not only your future but your present. He doesn't ask you to make a more regal appearance at a more appropriate time, he faced the pit long before we ever got there and this day 2,000 years ago he declared
"It is finished."
And in some ways it was but in so many ways it was just the beginning.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Monday, April 2, 2012
Why?
On Saturday I was standing in in my workplace on William street greeting customers as they walked in, probably 60% of them didn't reply, my friend turned to me and said
"Gee my career is so fulfilling" and that made me ask the question; Why?
Why do we do what we do? We spend our lives so very busy all the time always 'doing' but never stopping to ask 'why' we are doing.
Why do we work in jobs that bring us little meaning?
Why do we study degrees that stress us out and ask us to write essay after essay about topics we only sometimes, maybe, care about?
Why don't we all just give up, stay at home and watch movies with our friends?
Why?
It gets so easy to lose perspective when you are in the middle of the rat race. We are taking bite sized pieces as we make our way through to the end. Unless we are continuously redirecting our focus back to the question of 'why' it becomes all to easy to give up.
Tonight I was feeling kind of blah, I had been in bed with a migraine all morning, had to go pick up my stuff from my ex's house and came home to an essay I was only half way through that is very much due tomorrow. I was tired, I was sick, I was sad. I sat down at my computer, looked at the screen and cried. I didn't want to be productive, I didn't want to write about literature, I wanted to take a sleeping tablet and go to bed. I wanted to quit.
Then I asked myself the question.. I asked myself why.
Why is giving up not an option, why is finishing this essay critical, why is waking up and going to work tomorrow required, and here was my answer...
When I was 14 I started writing a diary, I have not stopped since, over 30 journals sit in my bottom draw and there isn't even 2 pages that go by without me saying, in one way or another, that I want to help people.
When I was 17, I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth. I never thought I would ever go to university, I just didn't think I was smart enough, but I was. I got into all the 3 courses I applied for and I am currently studying psychology, which makes me light up every time I read something new that makes a little pocket of humanity make just a little bit more sense to me.
When I was 18 I went to a facility to deal with an eating disorder and I found life through some of the most amazing women, who had sat up at night writing essays when they would rather have been in bed. If it wasn't for their own sacrifice, I don't know where I would be today.
Tonight I went onto some websites of amazing organisations around the world that dedicate their time, money and efforts to helping people. These are the organisations I hope to one day be a part of but there is a piece of paper I need to obtain first, a piece of paper I won't obtain without every little piece of the puzzle. A piece of paper I wont obtain without this essay.
The reason I have to write this essay, the reason I work in a retail job for minimum wage whilst I complete a degree, the reason I can't just quit and check out is because one day when I was 14 I decided I wanted to help people, no matter where that took me or what it meant, the road wasn't straight and there were times I didn't even think I'd get this far but I did and it is not an option, it is my responsibility to see this through.
After answering the why, suddenly I found my hope again. I wrote the last 400 words and I understood that it wasn't about the stupid essay or the customers that don't acknowledge you or the fact that I have one day off a week and only make $650 a fortnight. This life is a privileged, education is precious and these years are the incubation of my dreams. I like to think my 14 year old self would be proud.
What is the answer to your why? You may just find that it clarifies things for you and reminds you not to give up.
Smile often
"Gee my career is so fulfilling" and that made me ask the question; Why?
Why do we do what we do? We spend our lives so very busy all the time always 'doing' but never stopping to ask 'why' we are doing.
Why do we work in jobs that bring us little meaning?
Why do we study degrees that stress us out and ask us to write essay after essay about topics we only sometimes, maybe, care about?
Why don't we all just give up, stay at home and watch movies with our friends?
Why?
It gets so easy to lose perspective when you are in the middle of the rat race. We are taking bite sized pieces as we make our way through to the end. Unless we are continuously redirecting our focus back to the question of 'why' it becomes all to easy to give up.
Tonight I was feeling kind of blah, I had been in bed with a migraine all morning, had to go pick up my stuff from my ex's house and came home to an essay I was only half way through that is very much due tomorrow. I was tired, I was sick, I was sad. I sat down at my computer, looked at the screen and cried. I didn't want to be productive, I didn't want to write about literature, I wanted to take a sleeping tablet and go to bed. I wanted to quit.
Then I asked myself the question.. I asked myself why.
Why is giving up not an option, why is finishing this essay critical, why is waking up and going to work tomorrow required, and here was my answer...
When I was 14 I started writing a diary, I have not stopped since, over 30 journals sit in my bottom draw and there isn't even 2 pages that go by without me saying, in one way or another, that I want to help people.
When I was 17, I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth. I never thought I would ever go to university, I just didn't think I was smart enough, but I was. I got into all the 3 courses I applied for and I am currently studying psychology, which makes me light up every time I read something new that makes a little pocket of humanity make just a little bit more sense to me.
When I was 18 I went to a facility to deal with an eating disorder and I found life through some of the most amazing women, who had sat up at night writing essays when they would rather have been in bed. If it wasn't for their own sacrifice, I don't know where I would be today.
Tonight I went onto some websites of amazing organisations around the world that dedicate their time, money and efforts to helping people. These are the organisations I hope to one day be a part of but there is a piece of paper I need to obtain first, a piece of paper I won't obtain without every little piece of the puzzle. A piece of paper I wont obtain without this essay.
The reason I have to write this essay, the reason I work in a retail job for minimum wage whilst I complete a degree, the reason I can't just quit and check out is because one day when I was 14 I decided I wanted to help people, no matter where that took me or what it meant, the road wasn't straight and there were times I didn't even think I'd get this far but I did and it is not an option, it is my responsibility to see this through.
After answering the why, suddenly I found my hope again. I wrote the last 400 words and I understood that it wasn't about the stupid essay or the customers that don't acknowledge you or the fact that I have one day off a week and only make $650 a fortnight. This life is a privileged, education is precious and these years are the incubation of my dreams. I like to think my 14 year old self would be proud.
What is the answer to your why? You may just find that it clarifies things for you and reminds you not to give up.
Smile often
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
ideas
I am an ideas person.
Let me expand, I am all about the beautiful quotes, the dreams of changing the world, the hope of making an impact; I have a million different ideas going around in my head all the time.
"I should read a new book, I should write a book, I wonder how much it costs to get to London, can I work in london? My dad was born in England so I'm sure I can work in London, The USA, now I know I can't work in the USA, but maybe Canada, that's just like the USA right? Maybe I should change my major back to writing, maybe I should drop writing and focus on just psych, God I wish uni was over already, maybe I should do my masters overseas, study abroad, maybe not, maybe I should just join an organisation and go to Africa, or Cambodia, I really want to help girls out from human traffiking, but I'm going to need my psych degree for that, I need to focus and not have a boyfriend for at least a year or two, ohh yay texts from cute boys, I wonder how one goes about making a zine, I wonder if my hair will look better if I put some more blonde in it, I really need those Jeffrey Campbell shoes to go with my cheap mondays..." You get the point.
I struggle when it comes to actually sticking to one thing, I start out so well, I have passion and drive and initiative in spades but when it comes to the quiet bits in the middle, the late night assignment writing, the quizzes that take 2 days but only make up 2% of your mark, the millions of pages of research that you pour over to get one paragraph of material you can use. I have to remind myself that these things, the quiet insignificant nights in your room that nobody see's, these are the puzzle pieces that make up the big picture.
My problem is that I get bored too easily and something else always looks more exciting, the grass is always greener on the other side and I get distracted by bright lights and boys with rolled up jeans. I am an addict for dramatics (thanks TBS) but I'm learning that it isn't the big moments when everyone looks at you, the graduations, the weddings, the promotions, that define you, it is the quiet little moments in between that nobody see's and the prudence to stick something out from start to finish. It is realising you can't have it all in life, you have to make decisions and that is when you move forward. You have to pick a path and see something through to the end, take all your eggs and put them in one basket and just see what you are capable of. Thats what I need to do anyway...
Smile often
x
Let me expand, I am all about the beautiful quotes, the dreams of changing the world, the hope of making an impact; I have a million different ideas going around in my head all the time.
"I should read a new book, I should write a book, I wonder how much it costs to get to London, can I work in london? My dad was born in England so I'm sure I can work in London, The USA, now I know I can't work in the USA, but maybe Canada, that's just like the USA right? Maybe I should change my major back to writing, maybe I should drop writing and focus on just psych, God I wish uni was over already, maybe I should do my masters overseas, study abroad, maybe not, maybe I should just join an organisation and go to Africa, or Cambodia, I really want to help girls out from human traffiking, but I'm going to need my psych degree for that, I need to focus and not have a boyfriend for at least a year or two, ohh yay texts from cute boys, I wonder how one goes about making a zine, I wonder if my hair will look better if I put some more blonde in it, I really need those Jeffrey Campbell shoes to go with my cheap mondays..." You get the point.
I struggle when it comes to actually sticking to one thing, I start out so well, I have passion and drive and initiative in spades but when it comes to the quiet bits in the middle, the late night assignment writing, the quizzes that take 2 days but only make up 2% of your mark, the millions of pages of research that you pour over to get one paragraph of material you can use. I have to remind myself that these things, the quiet insignificant nights in your room that nobody see's, these are the puzzle pieces that make up the big picture.
My problem is that I get bored too easily and something else always looks more exciting, the grass is always greener on the other side and I get distracted by bright lights and boys with rolled up jeans. I am an addict for dramatics (thanks TBS) but I'm learning that it isn't the big moments when everyone looks at you, the graduations, the weddings, the promotions, that define you, it is the quiet little moments in between that nobody see's and the prudence to stick something out from start to finish. It is realising you can't have it all in life, you have to make decisions and that is when you move forward. You have to pick a path and see something through to the end, take all your eggs and put them in one basket and just see what you are capable of. Thats what I need to do anyway...
Smile often
x
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Shine
"Shine. Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God." Matt 5:16 (MSG)
One of the hardest things to do in life is to be truly real with the people around us. In an age of blogging, social networking and status updating, we are all too capable of telling the world every not-so-funny thought, averagely edited instagram photo and mildly indulgent check in. But ask us to delve even an inch beneath our carefully crafted image and suddenly we have very little to say.
We are so scared that someone might find out that sometimes we cry ourselves to sleep at night, or struggle to get out of bed in the morning, or dream of a better life, partner or career. These secrets are walls that keep us alone. I have always felt in my heart that peoples stories are powerful, that baring our lives could help others that feel as though they are the only ones that stick Adele on repeat and dream of their ex or more seriously, stick their fingers down their throats, slide a blade across their thighs, put on makeup to hide their bruises or stair longingly at the bottle of sleeping pills wishing they would one day have the courage.
Your story is powerful. You are not alone. You are not the only one with insecurities. You are no the only one with broken dreams. It is okay to not be okay. So few people have the guts to admit to not having it all together and have the courage to do the long journey to the heart and do the hard work of the soul that it takes to be whole.
But the ones that do? The ones that dare to go there?
It's their voices that are ultimately heard and their stories that generate change. You have to be brave with your life so that others can be brave with theirs.
One of the hardest things to do in life is to be truly real with the people around us. In an age of blogging, social networking and status updating, we are all too capable of telling the world every not-so-funny thought, averagely edited instagram photo and mildly indulgent check in. But ask us to delve even an inch beneath our carefully crafted image and suddenly we have very little to say.
We are so scared that someone might find out that sometimes we cry ourselves to sleep at night, or struggle to get out of bed in the morning, or dream of a better life, partner or career. These secrets are walls that keep us alone. I have always felt in my heart that peoples stories are powerful, that baring our lives could help others that feel as though they are the only ones that stick Adele on repeat and dream of their ex or more seriously, stick their fingers down their throats, slide a blade across their thighs, put on makeup to hide their bruises or stair longingly at the bottle of sleeping pills wishing they would one day have the courage.
Your story is powerful. You are not alone. You are not the only one with insecurities. You are no the only one with broken dreams. It is okay to not be okay. So few people have the guts to admit to not having it all together and have the courage to do the long journey to the heart and do the hard work of the soul that it takes to be whole.
But the ones that do? The ones that dare to go there?
It's their voices that are ultimately heard and their stories that generate change. You have to be brave with your life so that others can be brave with theirs.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Alone but not lonely
Since I have been 19 I have not been single. I mean, my relationship status has read single and I'd go solo to 21st most of the time but I have not really been single.
For 3 years I was consumed by a dramatic relationship that would be all expensive presents and crazy declarations of love one minute, self esteem crippling manipulations and volatile fights the next minute and cold silences for weeks on end the next minute.
It built me up only to break me down and even though we were off far more than we were on, it was still an all consuming relationship that left me little time to even think about moving on.
Finally I did. I fell in love again.
For the past 10 months, since the 20th of April 2011, I have been with someone who I truly believe loved me in the best possible way that he knew how and the truth is that I think I may have hurt him really badly, which was never my intention. Everyone told me that if I stood up and required more, looked after myself and had the guts to walk away when I was hurting, that I would feel empowered and in the long run, I would be happier.
But nobody told me about the guilt.
Nobody told me how bad it feels to hurt someone, to watch them go from loving you to hating you in the blink of an eye. Nobody told me that I would hold back tears at random intervals of the day just because something happened that I wanted to tell him about only to realise that if I was to text him he wouldn't reply.
Nobody told me how alone I would feel, knocking around in this big old world alone not knowing what was coming next, or who would be the next one to hold my hand, or my heart for that matter.
Nobody told me of the nights I wouldn't sleep, so worried that I had done the wrong thing and hurt everyone for no reason. I pray that he will forgive me. I pray that I will forgive myself. I pray that he can one day smile at the thought of me and know that I never meant to hurt him.
This is the first time in 4 years that I have been completely alone. I'm trying my best not to be lonely.
For 3 years I was consumed by a dramatic relationship that would be all expensive presents and crazy declarations of love one minute, self esteem crippling manipulations and volatile fights the next minute and cold silences for weeks on end the next minute.
It built me up only to break me down and even though we were off far more than we were on, it was still an all consuming relationship that left me little time to even think about moving on.
Finally I did. I fell in love again.
For the past 10 months, since the 20th of April 2011, I have been with someone who I truly believe loved me in the best possible way that he knew how and the truth is that I think I may have hurt him really badly, which was never my intention. Everyone told me that if I stood up and required more, looked after myself and had the guts to walk away when I was hurting, that I would feel empowered and in the long run, I would be happier.
But nobody told me about the guilt.
Nobody told me how bad it feels to hurt someone, to watch them go from loving you to hating you in the blink of an eye. Nobody told me that I would hold back tears at random intervals of the day just because something happened that I wanted to tell him about only to realise that if I was to text him he wouldn't reply.
Nobody told me how alone I would feel, knocking around in this big old world alone not knowing what was coming next, or who would be the next one to hold my hand, or my heart for that matter.
Nobody told me of the nights I wouldn't sleep, so worried that I had done the wrong thing and hurt everyone for no reason. I pray that he will forgive me. I pray that I will forgive myself. I pray that he can one day smile at the thought of me and know that I never meant to hurt him.
This is the first time in 4 years that I have been completely alone. I'm trying my best not to be lonely.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Shots!
Someone once told me that girls are like alcohol.
"bare with me." he said.
"Most girls" he continued "are like vodka cruisers but you are like straight vodka, a lot harder to take, but a lot more intoxicating."
Some people might take offense to this but I certainly didn't.
I don't ever want to be the sugary counter piece to the real deal. I don't want to be sweet on the tongue but never quite strong enough to have any affect.
When I was told this, I knew that I knew who I was, I was so sure of my future, so unfazed by anything trivial. I wasn't afraid of what people thought, or if I was desired. I was who I was and if you didn't like it, switch to bourbon.
Time changes things.
I fell in love, I wanted to be cool, I gave pieces of myself away, let my resolve be diluted by the desires of others, molded my beliefs to fit more comfortably with the beliefs of the people I so longed to love and accept me.
Each year went by and slowly over time more and more 'flavours' (if you will allow me to continue with the metaphor) were added and less and less of me was left.
I wish I knew how to get that girl back, the head strong no nonsense girl who didn't need anyone to tell she was worth while, the little girl who would stand up for what she believed in.
And if you asked her what her dreams were she would sit you down and take the stars from the sky, one by one explaining how possible the impossible was for her future, and yours as well, and when you were done looking in her eyes of hope and wonder you would feel a buzz, not so unlike a shot of Vodka.
"bare with me." he said.
"Most girls" he continued "are like vodka cruisers but you are like straight vodka, a lot harder to take, but a lot more intoxicating."
Some people might take offense to this but I certainly didn't.
I don't ever want to be the sugary counter piece to the real deal. I don't want to be sweet on the tongue but never quite strong enough to have any affect.
When I was told this, I knew that I knew who I was, I was so sure of my future, so unfazed by anything trivial. I wasn't afraid of what people thought, or if I was desired. I was who I was and if you didn't like it, switch to bourbon.
Time changes things.
I fell in love, I wanted to be cool, I gave pieces of myself away, let my resolve be diluted by the desires of others, molded my beliefs to fit more comfortably with the beliefs of the people I so longed to love and accept me.
Each year went by and slowly over time more and more 'flavours' (if you will allow me to continue with the metaphor) were added and less and less of me was left.
I wish I knew how to get that girl back, the head strong no nonsense girl who didn't need anyone to tell she was worth while, the little girl who would stand up for what she believed in.
And if you asked her what her dreams were she would sit you down and take the stars from the sky, one by one explaining how possible the impossible was for her future, and yours as well, and when you were done looking in her eyes of hope and wonder you would feel a buzz, not so unlike a shot of Vodka.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Home Truth's
Last night I was told some things about myself from somebody that I love. Things that were hard to hear. Things that I already knew. It's funny how you can hide your flaws from most people that circle your life but when you truly let someone in they become a mirror for the things you hate most about yourself. It can be very confronting when someone cares enough to call you on your shit and tell you to pull your head in but it can also be an eye opener to the issues in your life. So in an effort to be transparent I have decided to bare it all.
I judge people.
I judge the way people dress, I judge the way people talk, I judge the way people live their lives. I always say that I hate people who judge others but the truth is that I am so very bad at it and it really has to stop. It's funny how I can have compassion on the homeless and the sick and the poverty stricken but when it comes to every day people in my life I'm the first one to make a snide comment about an outfit or brand someone trash because their hair is just a bit too blonde. How can I say I love people when I write them off before they even speak a word. I am part of this worlds problems.
Some of the best people in my life are nothing like me at all, I can think of 3 of the closest people in my life who I wrote off as a dits, a nerd and a bogan. None of them are any of those things and if I hadn't of been in situations where I was forced to get to know them beyond first encounters I never would have gotten to know the hearts that were in them. I would have missed out.
I need to stop judging people, I need to shut my mouth and open my heart, I need to look at whats on the inside and not whats on the outside, I need to give people the chance that I hope they will give me. I need to change.
I am stubborn.
If I think I am right I will not back down, I will not say sorry, I will not hold out an olive branch. I will punish myself to prove a point, I will push people away if I think they are going to hurt me, I can be cold an aloof and unforgiving.
I promise you, dear reader (always wanted to say that), that I don't want to be that way. I have always had to fight in my life, I was told I would die before the age of one, then before the age of four, then when I was fourteen. Being a stubborn little sucker is what has kept me alive and is what has kept me fighting through a world of pain in my life. I beat heart disease, I beat depression, I beat an eating disorder, I beat becoming a statistic. I held on to my life and my sanity like a bulldog with a ball and I guess that has become so ingrained in me that I don't really know how to stop it. I let it run over into my every day life and I keep people at a distance and I hurt them and I hate myself for that.
Inside my heart breaks at the thought that I could be capable of hurting anyone or pushing anyone away but my exterior has become so hard and so well polished that it's hard for me to be vulnerable, to let someone else be right, to care just a little bit less and smile just a little bit more. My past is no excuse for my present. I have to let some things go and save my stubbornness for when it really matters because if I'm wasting all my time fighting about the small stuff then I will have no energy when I'm fighting the big stuff.
I don't know how I can change these things, except by being aware and praying for wisdom and actively trying to treat the people I encounter on a daily basis better. I'm a work in progress.
Smile often
Beth
I judge people.
I judge the way people dress, I judge the way people talk, I judge the way people live their lives. I always say that I hate people who judge others but the truth is that I am so very bad at it and it really has to stop. It's funny how I can have compassion on the homeless and the sick and the poverty stricken but when it comes to every day people in my life I'm the first one to make a snide comment about an outfit or brand someone trash because their hair is just a bit too blonde. How can I say I love people when I write them off before they even speak a word. I am part of this worlds problems.
Some of the best people in my life are nothing like me at all, I can think of 3 of the closest people in my life who I wrote off as a dits, a nerd and a bogan. None of them are any of those things and if I hadn't of been in situations where I was forced to get to know them beyond first encounters I never would have gotten to know the hearts that were in them. I would have missed out.
I need to stop judging people, I need to shut my mouth and open my heart, I need to look at whats on the inside and not whats on the outside, I need to give people the chance that I hope they will give me. I need to change.
I am stubborn.
If I think I am right I will not back down, I will not say sorry, I will not hold out an olive branch. I will punish myself to prove a point, I will push people away if I think they are going to hurt me, I can be cold an aloof and unforgiving.
I promise you, dear reader (always wanted to say that), that I don't want to be that way. I have always had to fight in my life, I was told I would die before the age of one, then before the age of four, then when I was fourteen. Being a stubborn little sucker is what has kept me alive and is what has kept me fighting through a world of pain in my life. I beat heart disease, I beat depression, I beat an eating disorder, I beat becoming a statistic. I held on to my life and my sanity like a bulldog with a ball and I guess that has become so ingrained in me that I don't really know how to stop it. I let it run over into my every day life and I keep people at a distance and I hurt them and I hate myself for that.
Inside my heart breaks at the thought that I could be capable of hurting anyone or pushing anyone away but my exterior has become so hard and so well polished that it's hard for me to be vulnerable, to let someone else be right, to care just a little bit less and smile just a little bit more. My past is no excuse for my present. I have to let some things go and save my stubbornness for when it really matters because if I'm wasting all my time fighting about the small stuff then I will have no energy when I'm fighting the big stuff.
I don't know how I can change these things, except by being aware and praying for wisdom and actively trying to treat the people I encounter on a daily basis better. I'm a work in progress.
Smile often
Beth
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
