The Happiest One Here.

"I think you win the award for happiest one here,"

My dance partner said last night as the live Jazz Band played, and we began to dance, keeping our steps in time to the beat, hands lightly on each other, my left hand on his arm, We swung back and forth, and I twirled until I was almost dizzy - dipped until I nearly touched the floor - swung back up, spun again, and didn't miss a beat.

I smiled. I had no doubt about it, honestly. The truth is - introverted as I am, quiet as I am (used to?) be, I never considered myself that happy, nor did I try to be. But happy has kind of become my thing over the years. I don't know if it's a side effect of 8 years of princess parties, or if it's simply the way I've learned to cope with all the shit life has thrown at me through the years. I don't pity myself or think I've had it harder than anyone else - but I've certainly not been immune to the tough, bad things of life. I don't mind so much anymore. I had my angsty teen years, and they are more a thing of the past now that I view as something that made me who I am today. I took from those experiences powerful lessons and through them, learned how to overcome hardships and how to confront hardships that I would face in the future. It's all worked out ok.


But try as I didn't, again, happy has become me. People will often make that remark - "Lacy, you always seem so happy," "It's like you don't have a trouble in the world," "How did anything bad ever happen to you? You're so happy..."
I think that's the fine distinction I want to make, so I'll intercept the string of past remarks I've gotten. People think because I'm happy that I've never had anything to burden my mind, my heart, my soul. That I haven't had bad things weigh me down or tear me to emotional pieces. Well, that's of course a lie. I often say:

"Look around you. Everyone you see is going through something currently that's just as hard to them as your hardships are to you."

I stole that from somewhere, someone - I don't remember where, but it's my mantra now and I've adopted it.

And it's so true.

My life hasn't been any harder than anyone's else no matter what I face or what's happened to me. The important thing is, it isn't a contest either way. What matters is how you face it. I made the decision a long time ago that happiness is, in fact a choice. Now princess parties and the endless smile and high-pitched disney voice I have to tack on for the kids every weekend may have helped the whole exterior of happiness along... but the choice, and the underlying, burning fact as to why I possess so much seemingly contagious happiness in reserve is because every day I wake up and remember to choose it. To take the bad things in my life, let myself hurt and mourn, have my temper tantrums and then pick up the pieces, be strong as I can be and push forward.
It's why this girl, who has been broken and beaten down by life so many times, whose heart has felt like it's been torn into a million pieces out of her chest, who has felt lower than she could possibly go, seen her dreams all threatened and taken away in moments of despair... who has cried to God in anger asking why he was done what he has done to her life, why he let her bear those burdens - can take those things, can take the hurt and the pain that could come in endless reservoirs, the despair and the melancholy - take it and turn it into a smile, a brave face and true happiness, that comes from inside, not without. 
Because let's face it: if happiness can from outside, we wouldn't be happy very much.

And that, my friends, is why I have people come up to me like they did last night and say,
"You know, you're such a joy to dance with. You're so happy and joyful that I can literally feel your energy, and it's contagious! It makes me so happy in turn, and fills me with joy and energy, too. It's such a pleasure. Thank you. I hope I get to dance with you again next time."

I'm not the best dancer in the world, but let me tell you, I've been practicing and attending every single swing dance event I can get my feet to. Religiously. And the remarks about my energy and my joy while dancing make me happy, because I truly put my all into dancing, no matter how good or bad I may be. Dancing always makes me want to shout, "Can you see it, do you see me? For who I really am here, can you see my joy? How pure of a person I feel here? How happy this makes me? How pure my happiness is - no masks, no exteriors. Just pure, true happiness. Can you see it?"

I haven't been so thrilled and excited about something in a long time, and as long as I'm dancing, I can't NOT be happy. I feel so much intoxicating joy on the dance floor that I can't help but leave on cloud 9. I don't think my smile leaves my face the entire time I go dancing, as I get to spin around the floor and play off of my dance partner and feel like I am the closest thing to flying that any human could ever be. I feel free, and my burdens exist but they don't matter because I'm there, and I'm happy, and it's all that matters. It feeds into my happiness even more and I'm sure it shines across my face.
And I hope it does - I hope it does, because one of my callings has always been (in hope) to spread little joys and feelings of happiness to others. To be an outlet through which good things can flow.

It is, as Emily Dickinson writes in one of my favourite short poems:

IF I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin	5
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

Life is Kind of Like Colouring...

You always look at a place, at a thing, see a person, differently when you are first getting to know them.
When you are unfamiliar. 
As I drove home the other night down 85 S, passing the exit signs, the same landmarks on the side of the road I've seen for over 4 years now, almost: I thought of this. Whether it's been here while newly moved to Atlanta or prior to that, traveling to all parts of Atlanta for gigs, I have watched this previously unknown place of dozens of traffic signs, exits and 6 lanes of traffic expand in my mind to something so much more than just a sight for my eyes.

Truly: how different this place is to me now.
I have passed these exits that I get off at, passed the Chamblee-Tucker/Mercer University exit countless times in the past for gigs and never even noticed. They meant so much less to me, because I had nothing solid to associate them to. No people, no places, no activities. Just a drive to work or a long drive home. Just another gig in this big city with the bad traffic.

Now, everything is different. I know this place. Suddenly, these exit signs and city places that started like blank coloring sheets have been coloured in and brought to life.
These exits have significance and meaning now - people I know live at those exits, that's where I go to swing dance, my school is off one of those exits, that exit is the one with the good Walmart and that's the place with the Kroger that has the gas station with the cheapest gas. It's all so significant now, and now I'll drive by and think of memories and thoughts as I pass these places and names.

How amazing that is to me, to watch the transformation. I've seen it before - I saw it in Macon, too. But it's especially amazing in a city as big as this, because never have I lived somewhere so incredibly vibrant and large and exciting, not even Orlando. I came here alone, and when I stop to think about it, that's a crazy thing. I came here alone, knowing almost no one except a single friend or two, who was kind enough to start showing me around. My family is all home in Florida, and I've watched as I was just a girl recently graduated from high school, never lived alone start to figure things out, piece a life and pieces of herself together to make something lovely with her very own hands.

I am in love with it all. I feel intoxicated with life, happy even in the midst of my saddest days, my downtrodden mood or my discouragement, which I have a lot of those. Sometimes I just sign and feel old. Too young to deal with it, too old to complain: old enough to know I have to put my head down and push on through, no matter the struggle. Sometimes I'm over it. If it's not one thing, it's another, as we all know so well.
But you know what? That's ok. Because I'm here now, and I'm making it, and I've done it. I've set out on this adventure and I have reached it, and now I am experiencing that thing that for so long I could only imagine as a vague and distant dream. And it's so much more than I could have ever imagined. Never would I have guessed that I would stumble upon so many wonderful things: Friends, farmers markets, favourite coffee shops and parks... random passerby's with stories to tell, a perfect place to live, a blossoming and successful business and (one of my favourites): dance. I am so overwhelmed by happiness for all of these things, despite the fact that I could also never have imagined how difficult PT school would be, or that I wouldn't have health insurance anymore, or that I would still be struggling with getting my Blood Glucose nailed down after all this time. It's hard... it really is.

But I'm making it.

God has taken me on so many journeys in these past few years, and I'm so thankful. It hasn't been easy - these have been the hardest years of my life. The saddest. Some of the happiest, too. God has shown me new people along my way, people who have come to care for me as I care for them. God has shown me that although hardships will come my way, I have the strength to make it through. Faith in him, and faith in myself and the willingness to always reach for higher have been such important things to remember. The ability to accept the bad, reflect on myself and use my experiences to grow have been parts of growing up. Do bad things happen? Yes, they do. And truth is, I can't tell you why. That's just the way of this world we live in. God doesn't promise us easy lives, and as I've grown I've certainly seen that fact come to reality.
But he's also shown me his unending love, his greatness through the things that have happened, the people I have met, the events I have witnessed, the obstacles I have overcome.
It is enough.

In light of this being midway through the semester and I've been talking to a lot of my fellow classmates, or just friends not in PT school in general who are feeling a little unmotivated, I just wanted to think on these things today and reflect on how beautifully things do come together even in the midst of a struggle.

Hard pressed as we are, struck down as we are, the important thing to note is that we aren't destroyed. We are capable. Strong. We are weak. Emotional. We break down. But we will and we can, push through. That's the way life teaches us, the way new things are revealed to us. Does everything happen for a reason? Does it really? Every little thing, I don't know. But I know this:

Perhaps most important is what you choose to do with the things that happen both to you and around you. That makes all of the difference.


" 8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned;struck down, but not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11 For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. 12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you."

A Morning With an LVAD Heart Patient.

Yesterday in Cardiopulmonary class we were going over a case for an LVAD patient. In case you haven't heard of an LVAD (because I know that I hadn't prior to going over the case), and LVAD is short for "Left Ventricular Assist Device" and you can read about them briefly here. LVAD's essentially hook up to part of your heart (the Left Ventricle) and help your heart to pump. The reason you would need an LVAD is essentially because you have had heart failure and your heart could not function properly without. An LVAD might be implanted because your heart is damaged and the hope is that it will heal, that you are waiting for a heart transplant, or because you are not eligible for a heart transplant. It is a very serious surgery.

After we had gone over the case and LVAD's in general for about an hour, the door opened and in stepped a man with a large device strapped around his belt. He came in quietly but I was sitting next to the door and saw him come in. Our professor introduced the patient, an older man with a kind face and wearing a rather colorful red hat. He stepped to the front of the class and began to speak, and the room became silent as we listened.

He explained his story, and how he was born and raised in Georgia and how his mother had Lupus. When he was born, he already had heart problems - and he got his first pacemaker in 9th grade. He received his LVAD two years ago after being diagnosed with heart failure. He wasn't sure that he was going to survive the procedure.
When he woke up in the hopsital, he said he remembered the PT's asking him if he could move his arms and hands. He said,
"I remember thinking I would be happy to.... if they weren't tired down. My hands weren't tied down."

This man underwent extensive therapy to recover. "Don't think for a second that your patient won't have mood swings," he said. "Because they will. All these changes - suddenly everything is different. And it's hard. Every day brings new challenges. And health problems, they do bring mood swings. Anticipate it. Work with it. Be understanding. Empathize, because it happens and it's real. We aren't just patients, we're people. And you - you all have a difficult job. When these patients are at that point they are despairing."

And he could do so little at that time, he said, but he could WRITE. He said he was blessed that he was able to write and never had to stop. It is amazing to me about this fact, because I remember thinking the same thing when I was in the hospital. At least I could write - and I always feel that God gave that as comfort to me, and I'm grateful.
"From writing, I realized that it was not what I was going through that bothered me the most, but what I MIGHT go through. And subsequently, I eventually realized that I just need to deal with the here and now. Leave the financial stuff to the lawyers, and focus on getting better. "One other thing I thought in the hospital", he said. "How does the mind tell reality from fantasy? Surreal from reality?" 
"You'll hear a lot of funny things there."

He told us he remembers learning how to eat again. Learning to sit up, get dressed, get out of bed and, finally, to walk. "Some days I thought it was just too much," he said. "That I'd never turn that corner. That this was too difficult. But one day you will turn that corner...no matter how difficult... and I did. One day, I turned that corner, and I discovered it could be uphill from there. You CAN do whatever you need to do - no matter the challenges. Patients will find a way.

Now, he said, success stories are a two-edged sword with patients. When you talk to them about success, you must do it easy, gentle and don't overdo it. Patient's start to compare. If they can do it, why can't I? And you CAN'T make promises you can't keep. You don't know if things will be fine. These people are sick, and you don't know that. What you want to try and do is to try and get the patient to see beyond where they are currently at. And realize this: LVAD is not a cure. LVAD patients are sick people, but LVAD can give patients the potential to move beyond where they are. To move past those immediate challenges so they can go on and deal with the other stuff, and have that chance to.

Now, this man not only functions, he thrives. He is sick - he carries extra batteries every where he goes. But he changes oil, he vaccuums with a stick vaccuum that doesn't generate static electricity, he fixes dinner and cleans the house for his wife because he feels bad that she works and he doesn't. He wants to see an LVAD patient that's an olympic swimmer (LVAD patients can't bathe (they take showers so as to not get the external batteries wet) or swim. "I'm sure with a good enough wet suit, we could make it work!" He said optimistically.
This man had lived a life of struggle, but he thrived, and he didn't let his LVAD or his heart problems stop him from enjoying life. "I have bad days," he says. "I can't make promises about my schedule because day to day I don't know how I'll feel. But I take it one day at a time.

And this man talks with new LVAD pt's in the hospitals now, to encourage them to live life as fully as possible afterwards!

In regards to getting a heart transplant, he says he's not on the list but will start looking into it later this year. "If my Doctor says the LVAD isn't working, I'll say sign me up. But otherwise - I don't want a transplant," He says. "Save the hearts for those that need it. There's too few of them to go around and too many who are in greater need than I."

I was floored. This man had known heart trouble all his life, but here he was living, breathing, thriving, and not letting something that is such a great limit to him, limit him. He saw past it, while simultaneously taking life day by day.
I felt a great deal of respect because sometimes I feel I complain too much about Diabetes, yet here I am - relatively healthy, insulin in the fridge, snacks when I need it. My body has failed me, yes, in some ways. But still I will work hard to keep up what I have and stay strong in spite of the challenges it has given me. To stay healthy. I can't always, but I can sometimes eat what "normal" people eat. I exercise. I go to bed relatively safe of mind every night. It's hard work and an extra struggle, but my quality of life, which I once despaired in the hospital would always be awful, is not bad. It's just different that what I was used to, and always will be - and I'll have to accept that. Just like this man's quality of life is different because of his challenges, he has found a way to push past them, expand and see beyond the bad, to the what is and what could be.

He left us with this singular though:

"Don't look at the telephone poles as you drive by... you'll get dizzy. Look up and around and towards the distance - and you'll find your perspective again."

As a child, I remember staring at those telephone poles, rushing by in a dizzying blur. But we grow older, and we learn to try and take it all in - the big picture. We lose sight of it sometimes. I guess that's why we have people like this man, who has so wonderful to come in, to remind us to look up and around, lest we miss out on all the wonderful, beautiful things in the world around us - they were there all along, but were waiting on us to truly see them.

Idols, and Why I've Been a Little Unhappy Lately.

Truth be told, I've been pretty up and down unhappy lately. I feel happy, but my heart and mind are burdened by a lot of troubles.
And I'm sorry. I'm sorry if you've been around me and I've seemed off, or upset, or tired, or sad or moody or angry. Because I have been, and that's not a good thing.

I shouldn't be, but lately I have been unhappy and more times than note I can pinpoint just the reason why I have been discontent. I know what it is, and I am stubborn.
(Please note, I'm just writing on my point of view here - everyone has different views, this is just my musing.)
I know that I have been putting to much worry on my mind and less trust in God. Awhile back, I had a really good conversation about idols with a friend. I was reminded that idols can mean a lot more than we can consider. In fact, idols are technically anything you put before God. This conversation stuck with me because so many times in my life I can count, and count, and count where I have made idols out of so many things and pushed God to the wayside. Whether it's school - I'm "too busy" to worry about God, or my troubles, when I'm angry at God and know he's there and don't want to talk to him, I choose not to. Or work - I've put my faith in money before. I like nice things, and I've put those before God too, especially when I'm upset something isn't working or I've lost something, I tend to get tunnel vision and fixate on it. But more than anything I think my big flaw is that I idolize people and I need to be careful about that. In the past I can see so many times where this has caused me unhappiness. As Sylvia Plath once wrote, "I either like people too much or not at all", and really, that's so true. That isn't too say that I dislike people - I get along with most people, in fact, and tend to err on the side of thinking well of everyone that I can. I try to reserve my judgement on others and give everyone kindness and respect for the sheer sake of doing so. But, I do tend to do this at a distance. I'm an introvert who has learned to deal with people because of the nature of my extroverted job (party entertainment). I have learned to talk, engage. Is it just motions? Well, no. It's part of me. But that's just it:
It's just part of me. The real pieces of myself, the truths of me, I reserve for very few people. I'm a relatively private person - things like this are hard for me to share, and make me vulnerable, though I want to share them. It's the reason why I have a lot of acquaintances but only a handful of very close friends. And I'm ok with that, honest I prefer it. But it can be lonely sometimes, so I get really overjoyed when I do find those few people I really can connect with, and I tend to pour too much faith and energy into them.
And there is a lot of my trouble, and yet another problem: I idolize my trouble, in a sense. I block out the world when I'm upset, push it away and dwell on things in my own head. I don't want to talk. I get upset and don't act myself. And that's unhealthy really, and embarrassing, and it's hard to change that habit about me. I worry. I worry about making enough money with my business and reaching a quota per month. I worry about Diabetes and have pity parties sometimes when my sugars aren't on par, I beat myself up. And I put too much faith in other people, but a lot of my hopes for happiness in them no matter how temporary, and get hurt a lot for me. And I do these things again, and again, and again. My idols - the things that distract me from God - and true enough, my troubles and worry that burden me do come from this fact. The bible has a lot to say about idols:

1 Samuel 12:21 states,

"Do not turn away after useless idols. They can do you no good, nor can they rescue you, because they are useless." 

Jonah 2:8 writes,

"Those who pay regard to vain idols forsake their hope of steadfast love."

Psalm 16:4 writes,

"The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply; their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out or take their names on my lips."

And I realize this perception of why I find myself unhappy a lot is much different for other people. Trouble itself is hard - I might sound like a "Jesus Freak", but I'm just trying to break it down from the standpoint of my faith and interpret it from that perspective. The more I talk to other believers though, as well as people in general, I can see how this concept of idolatry is harmful to me. Anything I put before God is an idol.
I wasn't always like this, honestly. I used to not talk about my faith a lot, but honestly I like this a whole lot better. There are a lot of things I can interpret about my life from the concept of my faith, and it's important to me. It's gotten me through hard times, and lifted me up in good. It's been my rock, my logic, my understanding my whole life, and it has been a delight to watch myself grow, as flawed as I am and as imperfect of a Christian I may be. I feel that at least I am on the right path to growing closer in my faith to God, thanks to a lot of guidance, and I'm grateful.

Which leads me into my next train of thought. As harsh as God seems about idols, I see love in it, not admonishment. God isn't telling us to turn away from idols because they make us happy. Do we get joy out of material things and people? Yes. Is that ok? Yes.

What's not ok?

Putting them before God, or even if you don't believe in God or don't consider yourself a religious person,

making your happiness dependent on things and people is bad.

Why? Not even because it is sinful (which it is) but rather I believe God knew the kind of great misery and unhappiness those things have the potential to cause us. People and things will let you down. Your faith and trust in them will be broken. It's why people are constantly feeling voids or spending their days looking for that thing to make us happy. It's why we cling to our relationships with people, hoping they'll make us feel happy and whole, not alone, despite us putting our hearts on the line over and over again.

As a kid, they always used to compare God to a parent who wanted the best for us. Now I think that's oversimplifying who God is to us, but the fact of unconditional love still remains true, and I think parenting is one of the closest examples of unconditional love you'll ever find in human beings. The crux is, God loves us despite our sins, despite our tendencies to push him away or put other things before him. God knows we'll disobey us and sin against him. He warns us not to, like a parent would.

And still we do - all the while he knows how much sin will hurt us, will hurt our hearts and break them into pieces. Will make us feel broken down. 

I caught myself doing this again this week, anyways, and this post is a reminder to myself to catch myself and put my worries back into God's hands. To say a prayer, morning and night and throughout the day to not be anxious about anything, because it doesn't change the fact of it or help anything, and simply pray and live life with strength and try to push for better and work harder.

Focus on the things you can change. 

I hope I'll remember to do this more, whether it's worrying about my relationships with people, my troubles with Diabetes treatment, my worries about anything. I need to work hard and push hard, but I need to worry less about it and let God take the lead. 

Here's me, accepting my flaws, knowing I'll fail over and over again but continuously trying to do just that. I'm a work in progress, and that's ok. 

"Keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be."

As human beings, I feel we often have the tendency to segment our lives into different pieces. Different pieces at the same time, different people through our whole lives. As Dr. Who (love you Matt Smith!) says,

"We all change. When you think about it, we're all different people all through our lives," he said.

"And that's OK, that's good, as long as you keep moving, as long as you remember all the people that you used to be."

When I was a kid, I used to keep a lot of journals. I still do keep one, though I do a lot more blogging these days (I find it healthy to get all of my thoughts out there, cathartic when needed). Over my life, I have kept every single one, and the result has been a rather haphazard, amusing, poignant and semi-complete collection of at least 4 or 5 journals. I always used to go back and read past entries, and I would marvel at the pages, how it seemed like the person who wrote those things was someone entirely different from who I seemed to be at the moment of reading.

As a kid it shocked me a lot more, but now I suppose I am somewhat more used to it, having become accustomed to the constant guarantee that we live, we grow, we change, we change again. We learn lessons the hard way more often then not, and we (hopefully) continuously better ourselves as time goes on.

If you think about it, this is the best thing possible for us. Change is a constant in our lives, no matter how unconstant the world around us may be.

Dr. Who... right, how does this play in. Being the Dr. Who fan I am, I always harp on the fact that the makers of Dr. Who were geniuses. Think about it: TV shows over time often get old. What makes Dr. Who different? The main character changes all the time. You get attached, Dr.'s leave the show, new ones come. And hence, Dr. Who has been the longest running TV show thus far, extending back decades. (Aside from the constant character changes, it's just plain awesome).

And really, Dr. Who is a fine example. We change into all different version of ourselves throughout our lives. We may still be the same person, but we change. And as he says,

Think about you. About us. Change is hard, but what if we stayed the same? Would we become stagnant? What would we strive for?

Thinking on these things, I am grateful for the opportunity to change.

4 years ago, my life experienced the biggest change of all. I always get a little more sentimental this time of year, as it nears April (my Dia-versary) and I start trying to remember what life was like before this disease so drastically changed it. My outlook has changed more over the years, likely in a more healthy direction but I'm still working on it. The stage of self-pity I did not allow myself to dwell on for too long. I think the biggest thing I struggle with now is guilt, and the worry of not actually having insurance is something I try to not think about too much, though I have a good amount of insulin and test strips saved up thanks to great endocrinologists and friends throughout the years.




My A1C is acceptable, but it could use room for improvement. I get paranoid about the tingling in my hands and feet, I desperately hope I'll be able to take care of myself well enough so that I won't have complications. I feel like a ticking time bomb for complications sometimes, and though I try and logic out of that mindset it IS hard. Some days, most days, it's just plain hard.

But I think about my life, and who I am, and who I've come for. I've changed. I've changed throughout my life, and I changed when I was diagnosed with Diabetes and I've changed even more since then. Grad school has changed me, this past year has changed me. Sometimes I feel like I don't know where I'm going, I just know I have one solid anchor to hold onto and that's graduating from PT school. Do that - and I'm green light for anything else I want to do. That's how I see it, anyways.

And I look at myself, and I'm so flawed despite my changes. I'm so imperfect. Sometimes I think about my life and I think back and all I can think about is... sadness. I'm sad. My heart aches for those lost moments, those mistakes I made, the hurt I've felt and the hurt I caused and the kind of life I used to live and imagine for myself. And it burdens me. But what can I do? What can I do, but close my eyes, take it in and keep on pushing forward? It's what I have to do. I have to keep moving, even if I remember, because those memories are there and I both choose and have them and remember they are there.

I wished that my change could make me into a better person, but mere change won't do that. Mere passing time won't do that. And no matter what, I'm not sure I'll ever be a truly good person. I'm just... me. Trying and pushing onwards, no matter how hard the struggle. I am me. Doer of kind deeds to people on occasion, lover of writing and optimist more often than not.

I am not the same girl I used to be. And that's ok.

In my readings this past week, I came across Ephesians and a couple of verses from Ch. 5 stuck out to me.

1 Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children 2 and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

8 For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light 9 (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness,righteousness and truth) 10 and find out what pleases the Lord. 

17 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.

26 She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

27 but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

31 Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

Industry, compassion, and loving God. All of these are qualities I value for myself and strive to better.

I feel as though I know who I am, but still I am changing and I see that. Not all at once, and only very slowly, but each day is an opportunity to work harder and shape myself and better myself into an image that glorifies God. I hope that God is changing me for good. I strive to live my life showing love for others; for living in the light, for trying to fill my life with goodness. To better my walk with Christ. No matter how much I change, I hope that that is one thing that will be continuous.

I think of God and I think of the Proverbs 31 woman and sometimes I feel so far away from that.


"She considers a field and buys it;

out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.

She sets about her work vigorously;

her arms are strong for her tasks.

She sees that her trading is profitable,

and her lamp does not go out at night.

In her hand she holds the distaff

and grasps the spindle with her fingers.

She opens her arms to the poor

and extends her hands to the needy.

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; But a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

I look back on myself and look at who I used to be. I am sad, I am burdened, I am joyful, and my heard is glad. Despite the hurt, despite the occasional loneliness or hurt. I have no other option but to be.

This is my life pressing onward, right here, right now. God lays the foundations every day for me to step towards and grow in to, and I trust him in that I will learn the right path down which to change. I have changed over the years: gymnast, student, Diabetic, PT student, (reader, writer, always)

I remember all of the people I used to be. I remember every day, who I was and who I hope to be.

I'll keep pressing onward, trusting God throughout it all, because it's the push forward that drives me, day by day.

What Is Your Calling?

There are a lot of aspects of my personality that I feel are remarkably flawed.

We as humans in general spend a lot of time trying to fight and lessen these flaws, I think. But sitting down to think on it, I know that, try as I might, there will always be these underlying downsides to who I am that I will fall back on, despite my best efforts. They are like habits, and they're hard to break. As sinners, perhaps I should simply think that there are some aspects of us that can't necessarily be fixed.

This doesn't mean we shouldn't try. In fact, we should strive every day for better, and to reflect to others and ourselves the best version of ourselves that we can be. 

It is in this way that I feel we work towards glorifying God - we strive to be better, to live our lives letting our love of God inside of us to shine to the external world and to our external selves. And the result is a raw, beautiful combination of flaws, perfection and a lot of in between.

And behold, it's because we are this beautiful combination of things that makes me believe that it's worth asking yourself the question of what your unique calling is. Do you know it? Do you have an idea? Is there something you feel you are good at? For I believe that for all our flaws, we all have our gifts, too, things we are especially equipped to do or to be.

Time after time I try and reflect on these things, and time after time it leads me to always answer this question this way:

I feel that my "gift" is the gift of drive and passion. 

Regardless of whether this is true, I can attest to the fact that these two qualities have gotten me through more good and bad times than any other qualities alone. My life is not the hardest or the saddest, and my problems are not the biggest. I will never act like they are, although I do have my moments of defeat, of temper tantrums, of feeling as though life is unjust, of feeling sad. I'm human and I'm bound to have a lot of those. I also try to be a person that listens to others. I have never been the best at offering up advice, but if you are looking for a listening ear to trust, I am that person. If you are looking for someone who will try and take your mind off the sad things and show you the silver linings and bright, beautiful sides of life - that's me. That's simply the kind of comfort I am good at giving.

And this is all because of the fact that my promise to myself, and others, is this: I will always push forward and see the brighter side of things. No matter how long the journey, how hard the struggle, what the obstacles are or how bad I feel:

I will be that person that always keeps on fighting. 

And when others need that strength, I will try and lend it to them, too. 

Looking back on life, I guess it wouldn't have ever turned out any way. As a kid, my mom was always that person that made things happen. It didn't matter how, they happened. My mom doesn't take no for an answer, and despite the world crashing down around her, she is incredible in that same aspect: she is driven beyond compare, and holds firm to her ground.
My mother always pushed me to strive for better. I think a lot of people might take it as her being a hard-ass, and that's true, too. There was rarely a thing I did that mom pointed out I couldn't do better, couldn't try harder. Work harder, she always told me. Play the game of life, and make the right moves.

But life is more than just a series of moves, and she knew that, too. Mom encouraged me to express myself, to do gymnastics, or read books, or do art - the only thing my mom didn't really let me do was 1. Wear short shorts out on dates (although that came later) and 2. Let me do nothing.
There's no such thing as bored, my mother always said. And to this day, I can attest to that. I don't think I have truly known what it is to be bored in years, and years. Certainly not since college. I am always doing something, trying to be as constructive with my time as I can be.
Purposeful, motivated, driven. These qualities were instilled on me in this way, and when I got older and things got harder, I realized that these weren't just ways to live, they were things to fall back on. When I was crying and upset because bad things were happening at home around me? I took a walk, for ages. I discovered in this way my quiet places... my love for writing poetry, and simply writing in general. I would walk or bike each day until I got lost in the orange groves that surrounded my Florida home. Laying among the trees, I would breathe in the heady scent of orange blossoms, sickly but soothing sweet, and let my introverted mind handle the world as it saw fit.
Strength came from within, and happiness is a choice we all have to make, I learned.

As I continued to get older, mom pushed me harder. In school, in life, in everything. My mother taught me what it was to work hard, so that I valued the things that I had. She didn't hand me everything. From homeschooling, I learned that boundaries don't have to be imposed on you. Sometimes, all you have to do is surpass them, and I tried, going as far with my college courses during the remainder of highschool that I could. And when I left for college and started my business. I learned that this same hard work and dedication could be the key to taking life by the reigns and into my own hands. I was diagnosed with Diabetes before I left for college, and this was one of the hardest things I ever had to endure. Night after night... I'd cry and cry, pitying myself, pitying this world that had closed in itself around me. I felt broken, like a bird with wings now clipped.

What was being an individual worth if I was dependent on a medication to keep me alive for the rest of my life, tethering me to a disease I never wanted nor asked for?
That question was answered for me the first night out of the hospital, when my mom and dad, during a rare get together with all of us, took me to my favourite sushi place. Depressed and defeated, I started bawling midway through dinner, and again when I had to take out my insulin shot. Make no lie about it: mom had literally been the rock that entire week. When I was stuck in the hospital and slapped with a $22000 hospital bill, my mother took care of all the paperwork to get me enrolled in medicaid and get me my insulin. Mom made sure I always ate on time, asked me what my blood sugar was in the place of "how are you". She cared. And in this same way she cared when she looked at me and said,
"Lacy, if it was me, I'd just do it. I'd give myself that shot. Why? Because I'd die otherwise. So I'd just do it."
And despite my fear of needles, I did it.

Looking back now, I can't imagine being any different than the way I've turned out to be. Through thick and thin, I've learned that one of the most important things you can do is put your best foot forward, eyes up, and push on, because you are capable of more than you can ever imagine. And sometimes, it's those times when we are most tested that we realize things we would have never thought we could do, we can.
People tell me all the time, "I could never have Diabetes. I hate needles too much!"
Besides this being a minor annoyance (a forgiveable one, no less, but a misunderstood statement), I always reply, "You'd be amazing at what you can do when you're put into the situation where you have no other choice but to do." And truth is, I do have a choice. The alternative isn't a great one - it's death - but that is, ultimately, my choice. At the end of the day, there is no one standing over me forcing me to check my blood glucose, to give insulin, to take care of myself. In this same way, no one is forcing you to go on and live your life, or to put up with all the annoyances, the pain, the hurt.

But still, we do. And why do we? Because. It's worth it. You and I, we see that living is SO worth it, despite all the hard times and the bad things. Because those bad things teach us that greater beauty exists to those that look a little harder. To the people that have learned to value it that much more.
And importantly, to those that also remember, as the Bible puts it in one of my favourite verses and quite possibly my favourite book of the bible, Philippians 4:6:


Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

God tells us right here not to be anxious! And true, there's still going to be a LOT of times when we are. Those times when we think we have too much to handle and want to throw a fit and throw in the towel and cry and be held by someone all at once. It sucks. Those moments suck. They break us down, they make us feel small and hurt and broken.
But when we overcome them, realize how strong they make you feel, how much MORE of a person you have grown to be through overcoming that which you thought couldn't be done.

Last year, I sat in a kitchen alone doing dishes and I cried. My Truck had been totalled. My new jeep had broken down and needed a new engine, I was bleeding through savings and stuck with multiple hospital bills. Both of the PT programs I applied to had waitlisted me and it was unlikely I would get in. I was graduating in just a few months, but what would I do? My heart was hurting, my life had fallen apart, and I was alone in a city I had tried for so long to make my home. And I stumbled across that verse again on my Facebook - someone had posted it - and I repeated it to myself,

I remembered that God has called me to do great things, and he has called me to have courage and yes, you know it, to live with that passion and drive I have promised myself to live with. And I was back again in that moment, ready to take on the world. I was a Senior, I was struggling to stay afloat in college courses while working 4 jobs and juggling new bills and fighting paperwork and living in a giant mess.
But I didn't think for a second that I couldn't do it (though I apologize to everyone that had to put up with me during that time, I didn't get a lot of sleep and wasn't in a very good mood).

And you know what? I'm thankful. I am legitimately thankful for all of the shitty, difficult, sad, upsetting and hard things God has throw my way. I'm thankful for it all, because of everything it has shown me I am capable of. Because it has shown me how good God is and how well he mends things together despite how they fall apart. It was shown me strength, and a greater love and appreciation for life than I could have ever imagined.
And I see it this way all because I choose to live with passion for the things I do and believe in, and drive to keep on pushing forward. I always believe, and thus I know, that I will make it through. This, as indirect as it may seem, is my calling. It is my testimony, and it is my light to others. And no matter what I actually do in life, it is a guarantee that I will always have these two things to fall back on, and these two things to be, At the end of the day, they are who I am down to the very core of my being. They are what I am called to be, who I am called to be. I am as sure of it as I have ever been sure of anything else. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

If you are reading this post, I implore you to comment and tell me what you think your gift or calling is, too! 

What Running a Business Has Taught Me About Life (And Why I Think I Do a Good Job)

When I first moved to Georgia, I knew next to nothing about (a) living away from home and (b) running a business. These last 4 years have been a massive learning experience, and life has certainly had its ups and downs of learning along the way.

I'll never forget the first time I went to the grocery store to buy laundry detergent. 

And my incredulation when I learned that laundry detergent cost... $15.00?? 

Needless to say, I had a lot to learn about life. Including do laundry at other people's places whenever they offer you the chance. 

Looking at the future now, I never would have guessed at how things would turn out, and where life would take me. Do we ever, really? I moved to Macon under a single pretense when choosing to start doing birthday party and event entertainment: It wouldn't be a serious thing, and it would bring in an extra $200 every here and there. I never could have imagined where God would take me along this journey and how it would change me. 

Some background on this: My mother runs a party entertainment business in my hometown of Orlando. We do moonwalks, costumes, face paint, balloons, princess parties, clowns, you name it. Ever since I was little, I was that kid that wanted to be a princess - forget having one at my party. I saw my mother going off the do princess parties - she looked so beautiful, her blonde hair whisped up into a bun above her head, dressed in yards and yards of shining, shimmering Cinderella blue. For years and years I waited, until finally (when my braces were off), 14 years old and still awkward, it was my turn to wear the Cinderella gown, to try my hand at face painting - the result of which was messy, sloppy but at least I could get my paint consistency right. It was a start, albeit a messy one. How did I raise my voice? How did I corral kids to play games with me or make them listen? How did I pose for pictures? And why did people keep trusting me to hold their babies? By the time I graduated high school, I had a good 4 years under my belt. I was still learning, but I had a good foundation, and most importantly the courage to try my hand at booking my own parties in what would be my new home. 

I still had a lot to learn. I started an advertisement on an entertainment site (https://www.gigmasters.com/face-painting/lacyball) and went from there, awkwardly responding to requests the summer I moved to Georgia, and trying to learn to buck up the courage to call clients on the phone, learn to talk to them, and convince them that I was the best entertainer to go with. Entertainment can be a highly competitive market. Face painters are a dime a dozen. The key is finding a way to set yourself apart, find a marketable quality about what you have to offer that sets you apart. I had yet to find it, but fall of my first of three years at Wesleyan, I started to book parties, starting at maybe 2 or 3 gigs over the summer, going to sometimes 1 a weekend, then two, and soon I was booking sometimes 2 a day, and 1 on Sunday, or a party on Friday's. 

I learned to travel. It didn't take me long to figure out that a lot of the parties were in Atlanta - not Macon - so I learned to widen my clientele base, even though traveling an hour and a half commute in a Ford F-150 was pretty much a drag. Some people would question the decision to travel as far as I did, but for me this technique worked. I was willing to travel, and also willing to keep my prices more competitively low, setting a threshold for what my income should be per party (no less than $75 after expenses). 

Early on, this technique served me well. It helped me to begin getting my name out there, not only in Macon, but in Columbus, Atlanta and Warner Robins (the surrounding areas). I always made a profit, even if there was a little more hassle. It's how I started to get my foot in the ground. And what's more, it taught me to be more confident about what I did. Mom wasn't there to book parties for me or guide me anymore. It was all me - buy supplies, get directions to parties, call my clients, make invoices, learn to deal with people. 

And a few months in, that's when I learned what my marketable quality was: in the most non-narcissistic way, it was me. The way I originally started to form my business wouldn't necessarily work for everyone or be worth it to everyone, I realize that. But the way I started to learn that I was set apart from others was a combination of many things that made me, me. I would work with clients, be flexible, if clients needed me to stay a little longer and I could, I would, I wouldn't be a stickler about every dollar. Settling for a haggled rate is sometimes better than sitting around on a weekend making no money at all. Paying attention to every child, treating everyone with kindness, being patient with everyone I met. I learned to go to all kinds of places in Georgia, rich or poor, and deal with all kinds of cultures. And perhaps the most important: passion. I always tell people I'm not "just" a girl in a costume. I run a business for profit, but I am passionate about it, too. My heart is so joyful when I bring smiles and laughter to other people's faces. It gives me energy, gives me life, gives me the taste of humanity that I need to feel compassionate and in love with the world around me. I love the children and adults I meet alike. I love the traveling, the excitement, the rush, the feeling of a job well done at the end of the day. I love the causes I sometimes work for, no matter how big or how small. No matter how bad my life might be at the time, going to parties is therapy and always cheers me up. The smiles and laughter you see on my face are genuine, even though I used to be the naturally shy, introverted teenager who couldn't dance with kids or paint more than a flower or two. I have grown, and and I truly have loved it. I remember my first time at an Indian party (and learning that trying Indian food for the first time sometimes does not agree with you). I stumbled through asking children what they wanted painted on their faces in broken spanish (Mariposa? Gato?) and learned about how loyal the Korean community can be if you treat them with respect and give them your honest time. I learned to be honest with people and listen to them. I learned to always keep a commitment - even if I was sick, which I found myself some mornings, I'd pop a Zofran, sit up from the bathroom floor and drag myself to work with a smile on my face. It takes sacrifice. I've foregone plans and social functions, given up sleeping in on the weekends or finding the opportunity to catch up on schoolwork. All without complaint, just one party at a time, treating each event as important as the one before it.

Business isn't about you, and that's the important thing. Yeah - money is great. As I began to pick up the pace of my parties and begin booking several a weekend, the cash flow for a college student was phenomenal. I was able to save money, and soon it was something I didn't even have to worry about. Going out was no problem, and if I wanted to buy something, I could. And it felt good - because I'd done that. And sometimes I'll admit it: I took the money flow too seriously, and that is something I needed to learn, too. Money is just money, and sometimes, I repeat, I emphasize: There are things more important than booking gigs and making money. Your bank account is a mere number. At first and for a long time I forgot that. I had to learn to let it go and not idolize making money. I learned to take my business as a blessing but also remember to realize where my priorities lie. And that's something I'm still learning, but I'm better at it. Taking a weekend off is not the end of the world. Is it still hard to do? Yes, yes it is. Am I still bad at taking off time for me? Absolutely. But remember that that is important too, always. God provides, but don't get carried away. You have to take care of yourself and do things good for your soul too, sometimes.

So in short, tangent aside, again, it's NOT about you. Working a gig is a promise, a spoken and unspoken contract made by me to my client. I WILL provide you with good and honest service. I WILL treat you and ALL of your guests with respect. I WILL stay until the job is done, and I won't be all about the money. I WILL work with you to meet your unique needs. I will leave my personal problems at the door. (And this has been a huge and agonizing learning experience.) I have done gigs after getting in car accidents, after breakups, when it feels like my heart is being ripped apart at the seams. I have done gigs straight-up depressed when it's hard to even force myself out of bed. I have done gigs without a car and had to rely on the good graces of my friends to drive me with only a day's notice, or less. I have done gigs when my blood sugar is making me feel awful, or I've had two hours of sleep the night before. I still suffer through lows, sweaty and shaky, and hardly have a skip in my step as I pop 4 glucose tabs and push through the debilitating weakness. I have done 5 gigs in one day and finished the last party with a smile on my face and spring in my step, regardless of my exhaustion. I will turn around, take my balloon bag out of my already loaded car to re-make a balloon for a child who is crying because they just popped theirs. 

This is life, and this is the human experience. It's worth it, every time.

This November, I came home on a Saturday night and went to the garage to do laundry 2 hours later. My tire was flat and I had a gig 2 hours away in Alabama the next day. Car places are closed on Sunday, and my car apparently had a spare but no jack. Sunday morning I called the only open car place I could find, drove on my flat to the gas station right across the street, filled the tire, stopped two more times along the 20 minute trip to refill my tire, and made it to the car place to change my tire and get to my gig on time with 15 minutes to spare. In the whole span of my event career, the only time I have ever had to cancel an event is when I learned that I had been granted a last-minute opportunity to interview for the Mercer Physical Therapy problem.

I put my clients before myself, and I feel that it makes all the difference, because while yes, I'm in business to make money, I am here for you, and I will give you GREAT service. That is a promise and always will be.

In short, starting my business has been an amazing experience. It was taught me time management. I can't procrastinate on schoolwork - I don't have the opportunity. I have to get most of my work done during the week, because weekends aren't a guarantee. I have learned about all different cultures - Chinese, Korean, Bosnian, Russian, Israeli, Spanish, African American, American, Indian... and learned to love and adore each one. I have done parties in the worst neighborhoods and I have done parties in mansions, all in the same day. I have learned that dealing honestly with people and giving them your true time will build a clientele base with loyalty that will last you years. That word of mouth and good reviews speak miles for you - and to this day, I pride myself on the fact that I have never gotten a single bad review. Business has taught me never to judge, and to think on my toes. I have done parties for thousands of beautiful human beings. Learned how to adjust games to accommodate birthday girls in wheelchairs or a party with several sweet, deaf children, deal with 40 children all pestering me for a balloon at once, to be patient even though I haven't had a chance to eat and I don't get a single break. I have learned the merit of working hard and how good it feels to provide for myself. I have learned to speak to others with confidence, to take charge of a situation and to problem solve sticky situations.

Am I young? Very. But I feel that despite my age, I can carry myself better than people older than me.  I still have a lot to learn, but I am on my way. I can talk on the phone, I can be professional, I can be an extrovert when I need to be and I can hold things together even when everything else in my life is falling apart. I can save money and play it smart, I can be business savvy, and I have learned such beautiful lessons about respect and love for others that my heart swells with pride when I think about what I do, even if it is something as seemingly unimportant as entertainment. 

My parents haven't always been able to help me the most financially, but what I got instead was something infinitely more important, I realize. I learned to take a skill, devote myself to improving continuously, and provide and make do for myself. I realize it doesn't work this way for everyone and I have been incredibly blessed in the opportunities God has granted me. My mother for teaching me, my grandfather for giving me my first car. I couldn't have started without them, and I am thankful that their help has enabled me to go so far.

God had big plans for me when I moved to Georgia - plans I never even realized possible. God has seen me through thick and thin, God has taught me numerous lessons and I am unendingly grateful for it all. For my friendships with families as a result, for my involvement with Central Georgia Autism and their beautiful cause, for my travels to all of the stunningly raw and beautiful places this state has to offer. I have learned incredible love for others and incredible self love, and confidence in what I am capable of, no matter my age, no matter the obstacles.

And it has been one of the best things about my life thus far.