Tag Archives: my mom

The Greatest Story

Posted on by
6
I am a lover of story especially a well-crafted, historical story. The way the characters are woven through the plot of the story; the emotions felt; the well thought out deeply insightful conversations; and the way the story concludes leaving me satisfied or leaving me to want even more. Each piece of the story plays a vital role in the telling of the story.
Can you think of some of your all time favorite stories? Why do you love them so much? Do they leave you feeling satisfied or do they leave you aching for more…wanting to spend just a little bit longer with the characters as you get to know them more intimately?
I have so many stories that I love, but my absolute favorite story comes straight out of the pages of the Bible: Jesus’ birth, life and death. Today, I am going to focus solely on the true story of Christmas as we find ourselves dwelling in the season of Advent. 
The story begins with a humble mother: Mary. Here she is a virgin woman, engaged to be married, and she is told she will bear a child. Talk about a little bit of scandal. This virgin woman can NOT be “with child” yet she is! As a single woman myself, I know that people would think I was crazy if I told them that an angel had told me that I was going to bear a child….and not just any child…but the Messiah. Yet God sends one of God’s messengers to Mary to calm her fears. I love the simple words of the angel as she utters “Do not be afraid.”
“The angel said to her, ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and his kingdom there will be no end.'”–Luke 1:30-33
Enter another important person, the husband and soon-to-be father, Joseph. Mary and Joseph travel to Bethlehem where Mary is to give birth to this precious holy child. They arrive and find out there is no room for them in the inn. Mary gives birth to Jesus in the most unlikely of places; in a manger. Despite the circumstances, Mary and Joseph welcome their son into the world with joy.

“In those days a
decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.
This was the first registration that took place while Quarinius was governor of
Syria.
All went to their own towns to be registered.  Joseph also went from from
the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called
Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went
to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a
child. While they were there, the time came for her deliver her child. And she
gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him
in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.”–Luke 2:1-7

After Jesus’ birth, an angel appears to the shepherds who are
keeping watch over their flock. Upon seeing the angel, the shepherds are terrified.
Who could this be? And what news are they bringing us? The words that follow
are one of my favorite words from this beautiful holy story because they remind
us of the power of God and God’s love for all God’s people.
“But the angel of the Lord said to them, ‘Do not be
afraid; for see–I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people:
to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the
Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth
and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of
the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest
heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors.'”–Luke 2:8-14

The shepherds travel and find Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus lying
in the manger. They then tell everyone what they have seen. The people are
amazed at what the shepherds tell them. The shepherds glorify and praise God
while Mary treasures and ponders all these things in her heart.
This story is a story that sticks with me! It is a story that
I want to continue to tell over and over again. It is a story that calls each
of us to shout “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace among those
whom he favors.” It is a story that we too shall ponder and treasure in
our own hearts during this Advent and Christmas season because it indeed is one
of the greatest stories ever told!
And this greatest story ever told sticks with me because of my family especially my mom. My mom has lived most of my life with a mental illness yet this is one of her most favorite seasons of the year. Growing up, she always immersed my sister and I in hearing the story of Advent/Christmas. It is a story that I never tire of hearing over and over again. It is a story that brings me great joy and hope because like I stated earlier, I have always loved a good story and it doesn’t get any better than the Advent/Christmas story! 
Join me over at Literacy Musing Mondays and link-up about your favorite story.

Care-giving for a Parent

Posted on by
4
Children should not have to care for their parents when they
are young. In the natural order of life, parents care for their children and
then when parents age, children care for their parents. Yet sometimes that
order is thrown off balance such as in our case. My sister and I have been our
mother’s legal guardians since approximately the fall of 2003. Our Mom had a
nervous breakdown shortly after my sister was born so we have not known
different. Mental illness continues to be a part of our story. (Read the rest of the story over at Blessed but Stressed today)

Grace Personified

Posted on by
8

The suitcase was packed away last night.

It has been a crazy summer of traveling for me..my favorite continuing education event in the heart of the Colorado Rocky Mountains, taking youth to the ELCA National Youth Gathering in Detroit MI,  and topping it all off with a sister’s trip to Nashville.

And in the midst of all of my travel, life has continued on as usual. As many of you know, our mom lives daily with a mental illness and has lived in a nursing home for the last ten plus years. In June, my sister called me to let me know that Mom was once again hospitalized. And since that hospitalization, life has been chaotic and hectic…..a few times this summer in and out of the hospital. Mom just hasn’t been herself. She has been asking to move which isn’t like her at all.

Then last week, we got a phone call saying she just wasn’t budging about the moving. We stuck to our guns because we just didn’t think it would be a good idea for her to move. Yet she still kept asking to move. We finally gave in…and she moved to a new place that specializes in pysch care. Instead of 45 minutes from me, she is now like four hours away from me. My sister and I are trusting this all to God…hoping that she can come back once she gets back on track, but for now she is in the best place for her. Just not so easy to navigate or trust in. Yet I know that this is all in God’s hands! (Not the first time, we have placed Mom in God’s loving care!)

My sister and I had an amazing time last week. But in  the backs of both of our minds, Mom was not far away. I am pretty sure we were both thinking about it just a little all throughout the week.  And then I got to meet a few FMF ladies! None of them knew what was going on…BUT each one of them (And each one of YOU!) is “grace personified.” They reminded me that we are connected beyond computer screens and rather are connected at the heart…heart connections made by God.

In those heart connections, God reminds me; reminds us that I am/we are never alone. I loved these words from my friend Tammy’s post this week: “Always listening, always hearing; Peace He gives us, love endearing; Storms may come, but then are clearing; He is here.”

Trusting in those promises…..
Today and every day.

Bottled Tears

Posted on by
16

I stood on a bus last week, my cell phone pressed up to my ear. I listened intently to the woman on the other end of the line. And then she handed the phone off to my mom. Mom came onto the phone and was adamant about moving to a new nursing facility. Even though she has been struggling some with her health this summer, this came completely out of left field. I finished the conversation with my mom and hung up the phone. The minute I hung up the phone, tears began welling up in my eyes. I turned away because I was on a bus filled with my youth as well as several other youth and adult leaders as we were returning from the ELCA National Youth Gathering. Immediately my youth and several of the other adult leaders whispered the words “Are you okay?” to me.

A moment of peer vulnerability! I didn’t expect the tears to flow, but they did.

As a child, I was a very emotional child. I cried often. In fact, I have even been known to cry at Hallmark commercials. As I have grown up, those tears often have found their way into my eyes yet again. Those holy tears are a part of me that I wish didn’t come so easily. Yet I can count the numerous times that my eyes have filled with tears. More times than I care to even admit. And so often, those tears appear at the most inopportune times.

Yet those tears are so much a part of who I am. They are like the waters of Baptism that continually flow over me and cleanse me. Those waters also always call and claim me as one of God’s children. God has gifted me with this gift of holy tears. Yet so often I want to force the tears back down. I want to hold them back and not share that part of me. I don’t want to break open that piece of who God has called me to be!

But what I have come to realize is is that God has gifted me with this gift, because in sharing this gift with others, we realize we aren’t alone. Some of the holiest times in my life are times when I have sat and shared tears with those that are near and dear to me….and also with those that have been complete strangers. In those moments, I am reminded of one of the shortest verses in the Bible “Jesus wept.” Jesus wasn’t afraid to weep. Jesus wasn’t afraid to shed his own tears. And Jesus keeps track of all of our tears as well. In Psalm 56 verse eight, we read “You have kept count of my tossings, put my tears in your bottle (ESV).”

Jesus has kept every one of the tears I have wept and put them in his bottle. It is so easy to think that God doesn’t see our tears. But the truth is that God sees every one of our tears. God wants us to know that we are not alone. God wants us to open up to those moments of vulnerability and like a waterfall cascading down, God wants us to release our tears and let them shower God with our tears.

Last week on that bus and many other times throughout my life, it has felt like my tears are paralyzing and drowning me. Yet God wants me; wants all of us to know that our tears are a gift from him to us. God collects every tear we shed and places them in the bottle of grace, forgiveness, hope and love. So the next time you feel those tears welling up in your eyes, simply let them come, knowing that God collects them and accepts them from us in all of our grief and brokenness.

I am linking up with Holly for Testimony Tuesday, Katie and Kelly for the RaRa Linkup, Holley for Coffee for Your Heart, and Jennifer for Tell His Story:

 
 




For This is Holy Ground!

Posted on by
6
One of my favorite pictures from camp

It has been 18 years since I drove onto the gravel road that led me straight to the place where I would spend my summer as a camp counselor. That gravel road led me to Camp of the Cross Ministries where I would spend the next approximately seven summers. Little did I know the impact of that special place in my life.

18 years ago, I started that summer as a shy introverted 18 year old (yes indeed there was a time in my life when I was shy). That summer changed me and made me grow in so many ways. That next summer, the camp director and the program director were doing mid-summer evaluations. As I sat on the couch listening intently to them, I learned how much the Holy Spirit’s hand was there guiding me to Camp of the Cross. The camp director reminded me how awful my interview was. I remember it so clearly. I answered his questions but I don’t think I looked up from the table even once. Yet he took a chance on me. He told me, “I hired you thinking I would take you as long as you would make it. But now I cannot get rid of you.” In those words, the power of the Spirit had changed me.

Camp is the first place that I openly shared about my mom’s struggle with a mental illness. Tears streaming down my face, I poured out my heart and years worth of keeping our story bottled inside. It was an amazing healing moment. And then several years after that first summer, I watched my mom experience life at camp and got to share this special holy place with her.

Sharing Camp with my Momma

Camp is where I heard the call into ministry. Camp is the place that made me into the woman of faith that I am today. Camp is the place I met and made some of my bestest of friends. Camp is hallowed holy ground because of the many ways it blessed me and holds a special place in my life. “Behold I am standing on holy ground.”

I spent so many times at “three crosses” lifting my prayers to God. I found myself many nights, under the prairie night sky, releasing my heart onto paper through poetry. And other times, I found myself counting the stars above my head; reminded of the power of God and God’s love for all people.

Three Crosses Campfire Site–During the Day and at Night
One of my favorite places in the entire world!

Today, camp is breaking ground for a new fellowship hall. This is something that has been needed for so long and I am so glad to hear these prayers answered. I wish that I could be there today for that special groundbreaking. But unfortunately I am not able to be there, but I am definitely there in spirit. This hallowed holy place will always be place for me where I can feel the transcendant power of God.

Even know when I get on that gravel road leading to camp, I get so giddy! It is like coming home for me…because camp is indeed one of the dear homes in my life. At camp, I look around and see God’s hand working all over that place. I also feel the Holy Spirit moving about. I look around and smile.

“For this ground you are standing on is holy ground!”

Good and Gracious God, there are so many places in our lives where we experience your awesome creation and feel your Spirit moving about. Today I pray for Camp of the Cross Ministries and the ways that that place has formed me as a woman of faith and as a leader in the church as well as for all who have been formed in their faith there. Also please bless all gathered at camp today as they break ground for the new fellowship center. Surround this place in your loving tender arms and care for this holy ground which we care so deeply for. In your name we pray. Amen!

An Open Letter To Grace

Posted on by
4

Dear grace….

Where do I even begin, you are such a beautiful gift in my life. As a lifelong Lutheran, you have always been engrained in my very fiber and being. Martin Luther talked a lot about YOU! And this Bible verse from the book of Ephesians is a daily reminder of the gift you are “For it is by grace through faith that you have been saved, it is not your own doing but a gift of God.” (Ephesians 2:8)

Yes, my friend grace, you are indeed a gift. But what is it about you…that makes me so very thankful for your presence. You always find a way into my head and into my heart.

In the midst of mom’s illness, when I snap back quicker than I should, you tap me silently on the shoulder and tell me that next time I won’t react as quickly. When I beat myself up because the desires of my heart haven’t been met yet, you again look me in the eyes and show me that God does hear them. God will answer them in his time and not my own.

And then I open up the newspaper or turn on the radio and hear the horrific stories of violence and sinfulness…but even in those moments, I hear you whispering. “They are sinners in need of God’s grace.” “You are a sinner in need of God’s grace too!” We all are going to screw up and fall short of the glory of God. Yet you (grace) are sufficient. You will get us through those times. How many times do we sin and think that we are not worthy to be forgiven….yet you continually grasp us…a simple reminder of the power of God and God’s grace in our lives.

In the words of the well-known hymn “Amazing grace,” ‘you (grace) have’ taught my heart to fear and grace my fears relieved. How precious did YOU appear the hour I first believed.’ And you also (grace) have ‘ ‘brought me safe thus far and will lead me home.’

Oh grace! You fall like fresh dew and cover me; cover us in your promises…your promises that daily cover each of us. And as your promises cover us like a well-worn blanket; torn, battered, and beaten, you still provide us with comfort and embrace us in your loving arms. You call us to action; a reason to love and serve God more fully.

Grace is knowing that sometimes we are going to spill milk on the kitchen floor and going to have to clean it up. Grace is knowing that sometimes you are going to make the wrong choices, but there will always be that second chance. Grace is knowing, even in the midst of grief, that you are sufficient when nothing else seems like it is.  Grace is sharing my words even when I am trembling as I hit the publish button. Grace is knowing that you are always within my grasp; that you are always within each of our grasps.

And ultimately, my friend grace, you always change me; always change each of us! In the words of Anne Lamott, “I do not understand the mystery of grace—only that it meets us (me) where we are and does not leave us where it found us.”

I am linking up with Holly for Testimony Tuesday, Kelly for the RaRa Linkup, Jennifer for Tell His Story and Holley for Coffee for your Heart:

 

The Spilled Sand Art Cross (Or How God Takes Brokenness and Makes It Beautiful!)

Posted on by
6

So much of our society and world is about striving to be perfect. We think we have to be perfect. But the truth is that God didn’t create us to be perfect. We are human…and we are sinners! I mean look at the world around us. This week especially I have been acutely aware of our sinfulness. Just turn on the news the last couple of days, riots breaking out in Baltimore. And I am saddened by what I see! My best friend’s husband is a highway patrolman. I know that RT would never act the way the policemen are acting in Baltimore. Yet I am not blind to the fact that we are all created to be both saints and sinners alike.

I am reminded of these words that we read in 2 Corinthians 12:9 “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” In other words, it is through our brokenness and our imperfections that we are made more powerful.

When I worked at a Bible camp for many summers, it was always awesome to watch how God often would use brokenness, imperfections to shine the light of God’s love on each other. One week in particular a friend and I were co-counselors together. Like many other weeks, this week had its challenging campers. One afternoon we were gathered in the craft shack to do an art project when one young girl in particular was testing our buttons. I don’t remember the particulars of that afternoon, how the sand art ended up on the floor, but it did. And in the midst of the spill, the sand art sprawled out onto the floor to create this beautiful cross. My co-counselor and I looked at each other and just smiled. A simple reminder of beauty out of brokenness.

The truth is that it is so easy to get caught up in wanting to be perfect, yet when we truly take the time, God has this amazing way of showing us how God takes our brokenness and makes beautiful things. My mom is one of those examples for me! Even though she has lived most of my life with a mental illness, her story/our story has blessed many. In the deepest darkness of the depression or in the highest high of the mania, God has taken it and reminded me that God indeed takes our brokenness and makes it beautiful. My sister and I wouldn’t be who we are without this journey. There were many days growing up when I didn’t understand. But as a young woman, I have become more and more aware of how God takes our brokenness and makes beautiful things out of our brokenness. In fact, to be honest, my mom is one of the most beautiful women that I know….beauty out of her own brokenness!

I think of my friends Jon and Renee and Renee’s first husband Ben. They wouldn’t have gone to Haiti if they knew the earthquake was going to happen and Ben was going to lose his life that day. Today Jon and Renee are married and have their first child. Again God took a horrific event and in the midst of it all, God wove together something incredibly beautiful.

Like that spilled sand art cross, God takes all of our brokenness and often weaves it into something incredibly beautiful. We may not always see it at first. But take a closer look and the beauty out of the brokenness is quite evident!

Today I am linking up with these beautiful writers 
Holley and Coffee for your Heart, Jennifer and Tell His Story.

 


My Love Language with Words

Posted on by
22

This is a little longer post than usual but I needed to get the words out. Thanks for stopping by friends!

Words are my love language…my love language to God. Ever since I was a little girl, I have always had a strong love of words. I spent many hours reading books or when I was really little being read to by my parents. But most of all, I was a kid who was content with pen and paper. My mom has told me that there were many times that I would sit at the kitchen table or on the floor of our living room and pour out my heart in words. All I needed was crayons/markers/pens/pencils and paper!

Recently my friend Dana started an adventure at her church using art in its many creative forms. She started an event called 4th Fridays. Dana shared her introduction talk on her blog. I just listened to it and my heart is now undone..undone as I remember why I started writing stories, poetry, etc in the first place. I don’t write words to be recognized for them (Don’t get me wrong, it is nice to be recognized for them but that is not the most important), but to remember where I come from; to remember that I am rooted in Christ and God’s love for me.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”–Ephesians 2:10 (New International Version) In some translations, the word handiwork is sometimes translated as workmanship. Handiwork/workmanship comes from the Greek word “Poema” which comes from our English word “poem.” In the words of my friend Dana, we are God’s walking poetry. Ummm…I don’t know about you but that makes me think about my life, my artwork in a whole new perspective.

How do my words share God’s love? How do my words connect me to God and connect others to God as well? How do my words show that God is with us through the sadness and the joy, the tears and the sorrow, and so much more? How do my words/ our words impact those around us?

There have been many times that I have lifted my words to God. I have lifted them through poetry when my mom was lying in an intensive care unit. I have lifted them to God when I didn’t understand why our family was struggling with the deep grief of a mental illness. I have lifted them to God as I have yearned for God to answer the desires of my heart. But lately, I have not truly taken the time to sit, listen, and let the words truly flow onto the paper or the page as I remember the vulnerability in sharing who I am through words that I have written to share.

Working at a church, I write sermons, lead worship and Bible studies, teach Confirmation class etc. And I am pretty comfortable doing that, but ask me to share a poem or my heart and immediately I am filled with fear; deep fear. There is something so incredibly scary about sharing truly who I am with the rest of the world and especially with those that I serve. Yet God wants us to share our stories with each other. There is pure gift in knowing each other’s stories and knowing that we are not on this journey alone. I cannot tell you the number of times that God has placed someone in my path because I needed that person to hear my story OR I needed to hear their story.

Too often in this world, words are used in a negative way. We use them to bully others. We use them to hurt peoples feelings. But God wants us to use our words for the greater good. God wants us to use our words to bring glory to him. I know that can be difficult especially in this world where we use words to hurt each other, but God always sees us and knows our heart. That is a promise that I still want to cling to daily. I think of a blog post I read earlier today where the writer shared this quote by Jen Hatmaker: “People may hate us because of Jesus, but let’s not make them hate Jesus because of us.”

So, my friends, I am grasping onto that promise that if only one person reads this post and this poem, that is a-ok with me because that one person may just be Jesus. And knowing that he is seeing me and my words, I am throwing out my fear and sharing my own words with you. This poem was written about two years ago as I was thinking about  my mom, her journey with a mental illness and how very difficult that can and has been for me especially.

My Momma By Tara L. Ulrich
Talking about boys and life, 
Picking out my wedding dress,
Sharing about my life and loves;
These are all things that I wish
I could do with my momma
Like my friends have with their mommas.

Yet she is still my momma.
My momma has always been my shining star.
She has always been one 
Of the most kindest caring people in my life.
Yet she cannot do the things that I wish for
To the degree that I hope and pray for.

Yet she is still my momma.
I want to talk to her about boys and love.
I wish that she could come with me
To pick out my wedding dress someday.
I yearn for the day when our conversations
Will be more than a few minutes. 

Yet she is still my momma.
Momma has taught me so much about life.
Momma loves my sister and I UNCONDITIONALLY!
Mmomma continually shows me that normal is relative.
Momma is and will always be my momma;
A momma who reminds me daily
Of what it means to be who God created me to be! 

I am linking up with Anita at Inspire Me Monday, Holly at Testimony Tuesday and Kelly at the RaRa Linkup.

  

I Am A Daughter; Part Two

Posted on by
Reply

I am a daughter! Yet somedays it is easier to be that daugher than other days. As many of you know who read this blog, I am a daughter of a woman who lives with a mental illness. She has taught me more about faith and life than I can even begin to tell you. She has never let her illness get in the way of who she is. She is the most faith-filled woman of God and has nurtured faith in both me and my sister.

Yet somedays it is harder for me to be the woman she has created me to be. Perhaps I am writing this blog post because that good ol’ Lutheran guilt has slipped in. But I really think I am writing it because I too am human. There are days that I find myself snapping back when she asks me the same question twice. Then within a moments notice, I realize that I snapped back. Today she called me as she does every Sunday and asked me if I preached. I told her no, but I know I said it rather quietly because I was in a major department store. She asked again and I said “No” again. It’s these little moments that make me realize that I am a sinner just like everyone of us is a sinner. And I wish I wouldn’t be so quick to react.God knows I love her with every fiber of my being just like she loves me and my sister with every fiber of her being. Yet it isn’t easy.

It isn’t easy being the daughter of someone who lives with a mental illness. There are days that I wish my parents wouldn’t have gotten divorced. There are days that I wish mental illness wasn’t part of what I am called to share and educate about in this world. There are days (probably more than I care to admit) when I ache, ache to have my mama whole; free from this illness. I wonder who will go wedding dress shopping with me when I finally find my Mr. Right. But then I remember that God gave her to me for a reason; to love and to cherish. I am reminded of these words, “For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper and not to harm you; plans to give you a hope and a future.”—Jeremiah 29:11

When I snap back, my mom forgives me without a second thought. When I ache, God reminds me that I am not alone; that I am never alone. God reminds me every day of God’s gifts of grace. That gift of grace is continually shown to me through my mama. God’s grace is a gift that is freely given. And in that grace, God reminds me that we dont always understand why things happen in life but that God walks with us. God shows us daily what God’s love, grace, mercy and peace look like. And knowing this grace, may we all share that grace in the world.

I love my mama with all of my heart. Yet somedays it is easier to say I am her daughter. Growing up I have a feeling she probably said that about me and my sister somedays too yet she continued and continues to love us. So my friends….

I AM A DAUGHTER (a daughter of someone who daily lives with a mental illness)

I Am A Daughter!

Posted on by
1

I’ve blogged more days in a row the last three days than I can even remember! Today I read a blog post on Huffington post that I can’t seem to shake but then again I don’t want to shake it either! The title of the blog is “I am Adam Lanza’s mother.” It gave me chills as I read it but the writer’s words are so true and hit harder to home for me than I maybe care to admit!

I’ve struggled with whether or not to write this post but I find that I need to write this for all the many who daily struggle with mental health issues. I am not Adam Lanza’s mother but I very well could be his sister!

The words “mental illness” keep appearing as we talk about this senseless act that occurred on Friday! And I believe that is truly a place for us to begin! We MUST do a better job of talking about mental health issues. There is such a stigma associated with mental illness that we are afraid to talk about it. It’s sad to me that we are more comfortable talking about guns and gun control than we are to talk about mental health issues.

I know mental illness all too well. It’s a part of my every day life! I am the daughter of someone who lives with mental illness! My Mom has lived most of my life with a mental illness! Yet she doesn’t let her illness get in the way of who she is! She is one of the most grace-filled and kind women I know…a beautiful woman of God! And I say that having seen her at her highest highs and her lowest lows! She has taught me more about life than I can even begin to count!

(Tears are now beginning to stream down my face as I write these words…tears for what she has taught me, tears for the lives lost in CT, tears for the conversations we need to have in the midst of a scared scarred world)

My mom (along with another family member) are just two of the faces of mental illness! Who are those other faces? They are someone’s son, daughter, mom, dad, niece, nephew, or grandchild. They are precious yet these faces understand what it’s like to live with mental health issues. They know it is not easy living with it. Yet they are able to live good lives when they get the proper treatment!

It’s been difficult for me to write these words yet I feel I needed to share them……..if not for you than for me! We need to talk about gun control but more importantly we need to talk about mental health issues!