Living the Single Life: 4th of July

Most of my adventures are kept quiet to my Simply Singing in the Rain family to avoid coming across as boastful. I know some of you out there are introverts (yes, I am an introvert) like me who like to keep to themselves and if it weren't for a few great friends and family we would be hermits. Most of my nights are spent surfing the far reaches of the Internet and somehow ending up on the weird side of YouTube. However, I do go on "adventures" as I like to call them and I thought I could encourage some of you in knowing that single people can have fun too...in fact, single, introverted people can have fun too...also, single, introverted, awkward, people can have fun...let's just say, people in general can have fun. I hope you enjoy as you come along my July Fourth adventure.

It was a warm July day and my family and I (well, my dad and brothers) were packing the car getting ready to head to New York where my aunts, uncles, and grandparents lived. We were visiting them for the Fourth of July weekend. It was a quick trip to catch up on each other's lives and reconnect with our loved ones. All of 6 of us piled into a 7-seater with our luggage and drove speedily down the highway towards our destination. It was a little cramped but doable and we were all happy to save money on gas. The way up to New York was pretty uneventful with only one memorable stop and that was at Bill Gray's to purchase and consume a garbage plate. What is a garbage plate you ask? A garbage plate is built on macaroni salad and home fries topped off with a hamburger or hot dog or both (yes with all the fixin's). My sister-in-law and I had not seen much less eaten one of monstrosities but had heard many tales (some bad and some good) of it's tastes. We decided to share a garbage plate and partake in whatever it had in store for us. We split the food and feasted on our newly found treasure. Everything tasted great on it's own and combined together had a very unique flavor that I am unable to describe. It tasted like a picnic you would have on a weekend like the Fourth of July. I am glad though that I split the plate with my sister-in-law because I would have not been able to eat the whole thing. The unique flavor was a little too much for me after a half of a plate. After our feast was over, we headed back out to complete our journey. We arrived in the late afternoon evening at my Babchi's house. Side note: Babchi is Polish for Grandma. We chatted a little while with her and joined her for dinner. There is one thing that I will always equate Babchi with and that thing is food. Babchi shows her love to us by feeding us. When she was not so up in years, she would make chicken noodle soup, spaghetti sauce, homemade cookies, cakes, pies, you name it and she would make it from scratch and it would taste like manna from Heaven! The last couple of years have not been kind to my Babchi and she is growing older. I know that the time for her to pass on from this earth to Heaven is growing closer each day. It has become a ritual for me to stay overnight with her whenever we visit so I took opportunity when it was presented. I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible since we visit her a few times a year. She encouraged me to continue on and promised to pray for me. I know she has and will continue to do so. I will miss her but that's what Heaven is for right? To catch up on all those moments that we missed!

The next day brought along new adventures with my Rogers' side of the family. But first let me take a selfie:

There! I've got that out of the way. We traveled to my Grandma and Grandpa Steve's trailer and had a picnic. The table was full of different meats ranging from hot dogs to pork loin, salt potatoes (yum!), salads, desserts, and snacks. Our Aunt Debbie and Uncle Bill joined us for a delicious meal and bonfire. Before we gorged ourselves on the delicious food, my Uncle Bill invited me and my brother Eric for a boat ride. It was a strapping yacht weathered by the salt of the mighty oceans of the world...*clears throat*...I might have exaggerated just a little but you'll never know! We pulled out into the mighty Seneca River and Uncle Bill pulled the choke on the motor and we.....sat. He jokingly stated that we would have to paddle all the way up the river. He pulled again and nothing happened. Thankfully, he did have an electric motor and we cruised up the river at the whopping speed of 5 mph. It was a lovely cruise (thankfully not a 3-hour tour) and we arrived back at the dock well rested and hair in place. My Uncle Bill joked again stating that he'd never live this one down. Nope, Uncle Bill! It's out here for the rest of the world to see. We arrived back at the trailer famished from our thrilling ride and stuffed ourselves with the goodies. We talked and shared stories about my Poppy. Poppy was my first grandpa. Unfortunately, he passed away when I was 9. The next day we visited his grave and paid our respects.

The rest of the day was filled with Gina and Joe's pizza and a visit to Willow Bay. The best pizza on the planet!!! True authentic New York style pizza! Yummy! Want to see it? 

We visited Willow Bay and saw this humorous sign that made the Grammar Nazi in me twinge with disgust....

I don't think I'll recover from that. Sunday was the day we said goodbye to our friends and family and made the long, cramped journey back to Ohio. It was worth it and I came away with a sense of thankfulness for my family. We may have some characters but they are there for us whenever we need them.

Until next time,

Be Happy Wherever You Are

Always Sing in the Rain

Christa

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From My Heart

Today was a bad day. Today a tsunami wave of depression crashed upon the shores of my heart threatening to destroy all the progress I made in the past year. It's terror swept me out to the angry sea. The howling winds matched the force of the anger the black sky showed. Heavy raindrops pelted my skin with unwavering ferocity. Cracks of lightning followed by the sound of thunder flashed across the angry sky. The weight attached to me threatened to pull me under any second. I struggled to avoid drowning and my only thoughts were to keep my head above water. I didn't want to go under again. After all of the progress I had made in the last year, I just couldn't. The storm finally let up and I made my way back to the shore of safety and rested. The horizon was no longer dark with menacing black clouds but was brilliantly light by the bright sun. A few wispy clouds slowly crawled by and a small breeze began to blow. I had made it out and I had survived another storm. It was going to be ok, actually I was going to be ok.

I sat alone in my bedroom at midnight trying to hold the tears back. I had to be strong and I couldn't face it. The hurt pierced my heart like knife and there was no way I could break free. I tried my best to ignore it by going to my #1 comfort: food. I resisted the bag of Birthday Cake M&Ms on my dresser and decided to read my Bible to try and suppress the feelings deep inside of me. "Why me? Why couldn't it be me?" my thoughts rang out. I couldn't listen to them or I would cry. I couldn't concentrate at all and soon enough, my thoughts overwhelmed me as I began to softly weep. I thought to myself, "How stupid is this? There are people in the world without food, jobs, good health, parents, etc. and you are crying about this. Stop it Christa!" I gasped for my breath and tried to calm myself down willing the tears to stop but they wouldn't. I would gain control for a moment only to lose it in the next. I couldn't help but think what my friends and family would think if they saw me here in my bedroom in tears crying over this stupid reason. I imagined some of them would call me a fool and tell me to get over myself. There would be one who would tell me to be patient and of course the one who would look at me in pity and shake their head. It's not easy being single in a relationship-minded world and some have forgotten what it's like. For those who can't comprehend what I'm saying, imagine that for 10 years of your life you wanted a job. Everyone else around you (or so it seemed) had a job and enjoyed it very much. They constantly talked about their job, about how much fun it was, and how rewarding the benefits were. You knew in your mind that there were downsides to having a job: arguments with the manager, lousy pay, and strict rules but you knew in your heart that the positives outweighed the negatives. You would voice your opinion to others on how much you wanted a job but no one could give you one....you had to find one yourself (figuratively). You were told to be patient, it'll come when you least expect it, or you've got nothing to worry about. The years began to drone on as other friends were hired into wonderful jobs with some even getting benefits right away. All the while, the only advice you have received is patience. You try to ignore the feelings of frustration by eating, music, writing, etc. anything that can take your mind off the situation but yet it's still there. Some days you feel anxious and excited for what the future holds yet other days holds depression and angry questions of why. Most of your friends now have jobs and it seems like every time you turn around someone else just became a new employee while you stay in your rut of joblessness. There is no end in sight. Tell me, how would you feel? Happy? Joyful? Sad? Depressed? Singled out? Now, replace the thought of a job with the thought of a spouse and you've got a taste of what a single person has gone through.

Yes, there are other people in this world without jobs, homes, food, family, health, etc. but you and I are a humans and we have feelings. I'm here to tell you it's ok to feel that pang of sadness when someone announces a new relationship, marriage, baby, etc. It's ok to cry and let it out. It becomes not ok when we dwell on it letting it fester in our lives until we become bitter at the world around us. I understand your heart and how badly you want this but it'll be ok. There is no stronger person than someone who has been single for any period of time so I have no doubt you'll make it through. Go ahead and cry but when you finish wipe away your tears and hold your head up high because you have nothing to be ashamed about. Now, go out and help those that are without food, jobs, homes, family, and good health. Invest your time into things that do good for the community, others, animals, churches, etc. Don't dwell on it! However, when the time comes that the sadness is too much, cry it out, scream it out, do whatever you feel you need to do...then pick yourself back up and continue on. You can do it! You will make it! If it gives you any comfort, I am in the same boat/ocean you are. I understand what you are going through to the max believe me, I do. Keep going!

Until next time,

Be Happy Today!

Christa

Off Limits

Throughout my teenage years, the teaching of non-touching between boys and girls was drilled in my brain. Many lectures and lessons were given about purity and abstinence. We were told the progression of that slippery slope started with hand holding. We were advised to have chaperons on each and every date to avoid rumors and any wrong doing. We should never be alone or we would begin to slide that dreaded slope which would inevitably lead to something we would regret. We were told to save our first kiss till our wedding day to avoid temptation. We were not to sit less than 6 inches away from each other. Choruses of "Leave room for the Holy Spirit" or "Sit a Bible between you" rang out. Abstain, abstain, abstain was drilled into our minds. Every time a new preacher or teacher came, messages of purity and modesty would always be the topic. They would hit hard on us girls. After all, we could tempt the boys with immodest dress to do unspeakable acts. The boys always seemed to be exempt from those services and teaching. Yet, no on taught us how to act around the opposite sex. No taught us what to say or what to do. No one...They just left us to traverse the tricky jungle of the dating world by ourselves. The only rule? You better not touch him or else you'll regret it. Pastors at weddings would always announce to the whole world that the couple being married never held hands or kissed. This was the example we were to follow. This should be us one day. Guys were off-limits until marriage and you better not touch one until then.

At the age of 12, I made a promise to the Lord that I would remain pure until my wedding day. If you are unfamiliar with this means, let me put it into simpler terms, I promised the Lord that I would remain a virgin until my wedding night. I believe that sex before you are married is wrong, plain and simple. I'm not trying to offend anyone by this, but the Bible states in 1 Corinthians 6:18-20 that fornication (sex outside of marriage) is sin and I believe that every word of the Bible is true and correct. If this is you, then take heart to know that there is no sin that God cannot forgive you from. The Bible says in 1 John 1:9 that he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins but only if we confess them. If you are considering giving your purity to the Lord, I encourage you to do it! There is no better gift to give your spouse on your wedding night. With that said, I shall continue to my point, there is nothing wrong with touching the opposite sex. In this case, since I am a girl, the opposite sex would be a boy. Very complicated, huh? All the things that I mentioned in the first paragraph are all things that I have heard preached, taught, or said to me regarding relationships. It became ingrained in my brain so much so that I became fearful of the opposite sex. I wouldn't talk to them, make eye contact with them, or heaven forbid touch them more than a handshake. I was sorely afraid that something I said or did would turn on a switch in the opposite sex's brain and he would immediately ask/want to do horrible things with me. I was nervous, pathetic mess. I was so awkward and weird around them. My brothers and parents would tease me and try to coach me to talk to the opposite sex. I would refuse and stubbornly go about my ways, after all, wasn't I doing the right thing? This went on well into my later teen years and even into my early 20s until one day it all changed.

I determined in my heart and mind to get over my fear and awkwardness around the opposite sex. I wasn't getting anywhere in my fortress all alone. I had to face the fact that I had to talk to the opposite sex. In this case, since I'm a girl, I had to talk to a man. It took a little bit but I practiced on one of my friends, who was single but I had no (romantic) interest in. It started out with saying "Hi" every time I saw him, then moved on to a few sentences, then full conversations. I started to realize that talking to boys was great! There was less drama and there was more to talk about. I love football and sports so it worked out great. There was no pressure to do things that I didn't want to do. There was no "sexual" connection at all. It was just happiness from having a good friend. So I became braver and made great strides in talking to guys and hanging out with them. I was no longer awkward in their presence and I could actually hold a conversation. Then it happened, I had to talk to a guy that I was interested in. I was so not ready for it but I knew I had to take that step to conquer my fear. I walked toward him and quickly blurted out a "Hi" and walked away as fast as possible. No one (not even him) will ever know how much effort that two letter word took from me. I was so proud of myself and eventually began having conversations with him. Turns out, he was interested in someone else (remember the curse?) but I had gained so much. I had gained the confidence to talk to not just any guy, but guys that I liked! Wow! Again, there was no magical experience or desire to do anything sexual. There was just me and a guy talking about our lives and nothing else.

Looking back at my teenage years, I wish we had less sermons/lessons on purity and modesty and more sermons/lessons directed at dealing with the opposite sex. For every case, there are always two extremes. For this topic, the extremes are: Stay Away Danger! and Go Ahead, Go all the Way. Can't we find a happy medium? For me, hand-holding and kissing before marriage is not a sin as long as you have boundaries. If you purposed in your heart to remain pure until marriage, then it will take a lot more than kissing and hand-holding to get you to change that decision. I am not, and I repeat I AM NOT!, going to share my first kiss with my spouse and the whole world. It will be a private moment between him and me and no one else. I will not be embarrassed my missing my new husband's face or slobbering all over him. No way! Just as a side note, instead of announcing to the whole world who hasn't kissed whom, let's embrace all couples who remained pure until their wedding day, they deserve some recognition too! The purpose of this post was not to offend anyone who may or may not have made decisions talked about earlier in this. It was to open our eyes a bit and perhaps re-think about the lessons/advice we give to the younger generation. It was also meant for guys and girls like me who have struggled forging friendships with the opposite sex.

If you have a bit of advice, be sure to leave a comment below! What did you struggle with and how did you overcome?

Until next time,

Be Happy Where You Are in Life,

Christa

Patriotism: Something More than Waving a Flag

Every year since 2008, the Rotary Club of Westerville, Ohio has held an event commemorating the heroes of the United States of America. It is called the Field of Heroes. Over 3,000 flags are planted in parallel lines of a city park opposite the Westerville Recreation Center. It is truly a sight to behold. Every person has the opportunity to buy a flag and dedicate it to their hero. Many dedicate it to past and present veterans, some dedicate it to firefighters and police officers, while others dedicate to a youth pastor, teacher, or a volunteer who has dedicated their lives to bettering the community in which they reside. People, young and old, stream in and out of the park observing the flags and taking in the sounds of a military brass band. A person cannot leave this park without the feeling of patriotism stirring inside of them. As I walked among the flags reading the papers fastened to them bearing the name to whom each flag my eyes began to swell up with tears. There was a flag dedicated to a Korean War Veteran who was killed in action, another was dedicated to a couple's son who had just joined the Navy, still another was dedicated to a World War II veteran buried at Arlington. A cold reminder of the price many people have paid so that I can worship how I want, live how I want, vote how I want, and say what I want.

In America, we are truly shielded from the sights of war. No tanks drive up and down our streets searching for enemies, no echoes of machine guns and bombs ring in our ears, no fear of stepping in a land mine or IED haunt our daily moves. We are truly blessed in fact we just might be too blessed. It seems the majority of the country has lost sight of just what is the cost of freedom. Sure I don't like war as much as the next person but in order for true freedom and independence to exist, we must take action against those who seek to destroy it, internal or otherwise. Memorial Day exists as an honor to our troops living and dead. The first half of the day is for the dead, the second half of the day is for those that are living. If you ask any American what they most look forward to on Memorial Day, it would be cook-outs and 3 day weekends. Patriotism is a dying art in America. Society tells us that being an American is intolerant and no longer something to be proud of. Instead of using our freedoms wisely, that so many men have died for, we use our freedom to destroy it. How would our Founding Fathers feel? The men who risked everything: lives, family, home, and money, for freedom and independence. Back then, they were proud to be Americans. Being American to them meant something then waving a flag and singing a half-hearted verse of the Star-Spangled Banner. It meant that they would give everything for the good of the country. Our Founding Fathers and the many veterans throughout the years gave their lives not just so their families and they themselves could be free but so that we all could be free. So that all Americans could walk up to the front steps of the White House and say whatever they wanted to, offensive or otherwise. So that any person could attend any church and be a part of any faith without fear of arrest or persecution. So that any parent could watch their children play in the backyard without the fear of the government coming and taking them away. So many times in our society, we are encouraged to do things for ourselves, to be what we want to be, to stand up for ourselves. These things in moderation are not bad yet we have become such a selfish society that we have forgotten the big picture. How can we ask a soldier to die for us and for our freedoms when we are not willing to do so ourselves? Being an American does not mean being stubborn and rebellious against the rest of the world. It means being free and independent to think as we should think and to act as we should act.

As a society, we have not forgotten our soldiers as much as we have ceased to remember them. We think we do our duty by putting our flags out in the yard and posting a patriotic picture on Facebook but that is not enough. That is not patriotism, it is laziness. You might be thinking I'm being too harsh but my great-uncles who were veterans of World War II did not fight the battles of war in vain. They need someone to stand beside them, all veterans do. We need to get back to the days after September 11th and the Boston Bombing in which for a brief moment it wasn't wrong to be an American. We were proud of our firefighters and police officers. We were proud of our soldiers going overseas to fight the enemy. Why can't this swelling of patriotism be normal? We must do something for our veterans. We must find a way to help them for they have given us a gift so great that no monetary value can be place upon it. We must be proud to be an American. We must remember them after Memorial Day. Patriotism is a lot more than just waving a flag, it's being proud of who you are and what your country has done for you.

Christa

Real Beauty

(Note: The following story is true but the names have been changed to protect the respective participants privacy)

“Can I have a hug?” I asked the little girl named Nicole who everyone in Center Bible Baptist Church absolutely adored. She was all bundled up in her jacket and she had a cute hat shaped like a football topped with a Niagara State logo. She looked so adorable, I couldn’t pass up a hug from her. In Nicole’s cute way she turned to me, shook her head and said “No.” I made a pouty face which didn’t faze her. Her mom and dad encouraged her to give me one. She smiled and walked toward me with open arms. I knelt down and hugged her. I heard her start giggling and she pointed at my head and said “Hat?” I laughed and said “Yea I have a hat on to.” It was what other children had coined as the ice cream hat. The bottom half and strings are tan and textured to look like an ice cream cone. The top half is white with a pouty face sown on the front and it’s capped off with “chocolate syrup and sprinkles”. But that was not what she was giggling about. At the very top of my hat is red crochet ball with a black string on top. Some people say it’s a cherry some say it’s a strawberry. Nevertheless, I don’t think I’ll ever forget her giggle as she curiously pulled on it. It made me laugh and smile. As she walked out the door she turned around, looked me in the eye, and in her own special pronunciation said “Bye Christa!” my heart melted. This little girl has my heart and I don’t mind. Most days I wish I could take her home and just cuddle with her but kidnapping isn’t my style so I’ll just wait until I see her again to hug her.

This started me thinking. Why am I so interested in this little girl? Why do I love her so much? This particular church is filled with children of every age who deserve love and guidance. What makes this little girl so different? Is it because she is the most beautiful baby I have ever seen? Yes I know that’s cliché but she literally is the most beautiful baby ever. If I believed in pageants, I would enter her in one. Maybe it was because she was the answer to my prayers? Her parents had tried for so long to have a child making her arrival so much more special. Maybe it’s because she’s smart as a whip and her laugh is infectious? I couldn’t narrow it down to one thing. The only thing that I could say was that she was Nicole. There is so much pressure in the adult world to be something other than who you are. Everyone says be yourself but what they truly mean is be yourself by our guidelines. Nicole doesn’t care. She’s just what she is. She doesn’t feel the need to laugh at a horrible joke out of pity, she doesn’t want to dress a certain way to impress people, and she doesn’t need a fancy IPod or cellphone stay connected to her world…she just is true to herself. Eventually Nicole will feel the pressures of life to do what is popular instead of what is honest. She will feel the peer pressure of styling her hair in the latest fashion, dressing in the most modern clothes, having the latest technology attached to her hip to stay connected with every single thing going on in the world, and laughing that pity laugh. As much as we would love her to stay true to herself, we all know that those pressures are hard to overcome. We feel them early on life and they will never go away.

We can all learn something from her though. We can learn that it doesn’t matter how ugly we think we are even if we have a crooked nose, messed up teeth, eyes that are crossed, are too fat, or are too short. We are who we are and it is something that we should embrace. You are special. God handcraft you for a specific design and purpose. He gave you that annoying laugh and unmanageable curly hair. Not because He hates you but because He loves you. To Him, you are beautiful. Beautiful and special enough for Him to send His only Son to die on a cross just for you. If that doesn’t make you value your own self than nothing will. There comes a time in every man and woman’s life were must find ourselves and realize who we really are. We somehow lose ourselves in the hustle and bustle of keeping up with the times and the pressure of popularity. Who are you? I am Christa Grace. I am too sarcastic, a little “chunky”, too honest, too giving, and a major procrastinator. It took me 26 years for me to figure that my flaws are what makes me Christa. Just like Nicole laughing at a simple red crochet ball being herself, I tend to be more honest and forthcoming that what people like. I used to consider it a flaw but it’s not really. What would you want more a person who is honest about what they think or someone who dances around the truth for fear someone might judge them too harshly? I have a friend who hates confrontation and will do anything to avoid it. Is that wrong? Not saying that she is dishonest and lies to your face but she is less willing to tell someone they are doing something wrong than say me. God each gave us personalities so this life wouldn’t be boring. When I’m too honest, my friend steps in to soften the blow, another one steps to encourage them to do the right thing, while another one guides them in the way to do the right thing. If there wasn’t that friend there with the personality to soften the blow, that person would probably end up mad about everything. If I never said anything, that person may end up going down the wrong path in life. In our own way each of us is different but together we make a good group.

In conclusion, real beauty is not something that is bought or sold but can only be attained by being our true selves. By embracing what God truly made us for. That’s real beauty. I hope Nicole will always stay true to herself and never lose her real beauty.

Until next time,

Be Happy Today
Always Sing in the Rain

Christa