Goodbye Joey Feeks

On the day I die, a lot will happen.

A lot will change.

The world will be busy.

On the day I die, all the important appointments I made will be left unattended.

The many plans I had yet to complete will remain forever undone.

The calendar that ruled so many of my days will now be irrelevant to me.

All the material things I so chased and guarded and treasured will be left in the hands of others to care for or to discard.

The words of my critics which so burdened me will cease to sting or capture anymore. They will be unable to touch me.

The arguments I believed I’d won here will not serve me or bring me any satisfaction or solace.   

All my noisy incoming notifications and texts and calls will go unanswered. Their great urgency will be quieted.

My many nagging regrets will all be resigned to the past, where they should have always been anyway.

Every superficial worry about my body that I ever labored over; about my waistline or hairline or frown lines, will fade away.

My carefully crafted image, the one I worked so hard to shape for others here, will be left to them to complete anyway.

The sterling reputation I once struggled so greatly to maintain will be of little concern for me anymore.

All the small and large anxieties that stole sleep from me each night will be rendered powerless.

The deep and towering mysteries about life and death that so consumed my mind will finally be clarified in a way that they could never be before while I lived.

These things will certainly all be true on the day that I die.

Yet for as much as will happen on that day, one more thing that will happen.

On the day I die, the few people who really know and truly love me will grieve deeply.

They will feel a void.

They will feel cheated.

They will not feel ready.

They will feel as though a part of them has died as well.

And on that day, more than anything in the world they will want more time with me.

I know this from those I love and grieve over.

And so knowing this, while I am still alive I’ll try to remember that my time with them is finite and fleeting and so very precious—and I’ll do my best not to waste a second of it.

I’ll try not to squander a priceless moment worrying about all the other things that will happen on the day I die because many of those things are either not my concern or beyond my control.

Friends, those other things have an insidious way of keeping you from living even as you live; vying for your attention, competing for your affection.

They rob you of the joy of this unrepeatable, uncontainable, ever-evaporating Now with those who love you and want only to share it with you.

Don’t miss the chance to dance with them while you can.

It’s easy to waste so much daylight in the days before you die.

Don’t let your life be stolen every day by all that you believe matters, because on the day you die, much of it simply won’t.

Yes, you and I will die one day.

But before that day comes: let us live.

Poem by John Pavlovitz

This past Friday,

Joey Feeks – of gospel duo Joey & Rory – died in her hometown of Alexandria, Indiana, ending her brave fight with terminal cancer at the age of  40. Joey, beautiful and talented, was a woman of love and faith. She departed this world from the loving arms of her husband, Rory, into her Savior’s loving arms in heaven. Heaven is getting top-heavy. As I heard about her passing on the radio, I couldn’t help but cry. I was saddened because she had everything to live for. She had a devoted husband, a darling two-year-old, two older daughters, and, of course, loving family members. But God’s ways are higher than our ways. And God had other plans for her. When we don’t understand God’s ways, we shall continue to trust His will for our lives.

Joey Feeks will be missed by many.

http://theboot.com/joey-feek-tribute-video/

 

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Isn’t He Beautiful?

Build me a son, O Lord,
who will be strong enough to know when he is weak,
and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid;
one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat,
and humble and gentle in victory.

Build me a son whose wishbone will not be
where his backbone should be;
a son who will know Thee—and that
to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.

Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort,
but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenges.
Here, let him learn to stand up in the storm;
here, let him learn compassion for those who fall.

Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goals will be high;
a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men;
one who will learn to laugh, yet never forget how to weep;
one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these things are his,
add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor,
so that he may always be serious,
yet never take himself too seriously.

Give him humility, so that he may always remember
the simplicity of true greatness,
the open mind of true wisdom,
the meekness of true strength.

Then I, his father [and mother], will dare to whisper,
“I have not lived in vain.”

~ General Douglas MacArthur

So, we just celebrated my son’s 34th birthday. After asking him what he would like to do or where he would like to go to celebrate, he shared that he simply wanted to be with family and wanted to celebrate at home. Such a humble request, and oh, what a joy in fulfilling that request. Because you see, Mama needed some respite too. We get so caught up in the blowing and going that we can minimize and forget the small stuff. Let’s face it, we are busy people. We can become too focused on counting the days instead of making the days count.

I prepared his favorite meal, lasagna, and Cherry Food Cake for dessert. We visited, laughed, acted like goofballs while entertaining one another (see the video), and took some cool photos. We made more memories to cherish for a lifetime. I treasure each and every heartbeat represented in my family—it is close and very dear to my own heart.

Thank you for allowing me to continually share my journeys with you.

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The Day the Earth Stood Still

© M.A. Pérez 2016, All Rights Reserved

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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February 25, 2016 · 7:16 PM

7 Sistas Bookclub

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About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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“Running In Heels” Book Tour 2016

BOOKTOUR2016

Coming to . . .
The Woodlands, Spring, Humble, & Friendswood
(click image for more details!)

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“I Always Loved You…”

“I always did love you, just had too many problems.”
Ten words on ink and paper.
Handwritten by her.
Pierces my heart.
Quiet pain.

Does she know I exist? Or care? Or want me?
I love her, look up to her; want to be her.
Unspoken. Forsaken.
Isn’t love also a verb?
Hidden shame.

Grandparents notice. Embrace me. Love me.
They say I am worthy and special.
I am not allowed to stay.
Said I might become spoil.
Wounded heart.

I leave home. Searching for Mr. Right.
Run to him at sixteen. Happily ever after.
Young. Naïve. Taken for granted.
Thinks to mold me into his image.
His way or the highway.
Internal screams.

Motherhood. Baby having babies.
Crawl before walk. Stumble. Fall.
Clinging unto a strand, unraveling.
Faded dreams.

Years overlap. Encumbering.
Emotions are numb.
Hubby seeks greener pastures.
Two-timer. Tosses me to the wolves.
Abandon.

Water not missed until the well is dry.
Alone. They’ve aged. Reaching out.
Across the miles, calling my name.
Vowing eternal devotion.
Hollow words.

Grown children look back.
Open arms. Nostalgic.
Rebuild the fences.
Dying to live.
Forgive.

In times of happiness, embrace your beloved.
In times of calamity, hold them closer.
Love isn’t love until you give it away.
God grants life.
And second chances.

~  Poem written by Mary A. Pérez  ~

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© M.A. Pérez 2016, All Rights Reserved

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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Hungry. Please Help. God Bless.

With a six-month-old baby, and my oldest just two-and-a-half, I was pregnant again! At nineteen years of age, I had gotten used to people’s stares of me the young, skinny girl with a round, swollen belly, a baby straddled on her hip, while holding the hand of another toddler. Excerpt from Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace

That young, skinny girl was me back then.

Today, rushing out of the grocery store, preoccupied with my list of things yet to be done once I got home, I hear a lady’s faint voice call out to me. I look and read the card in her hand: HUNGRY. PLEASE HELP. GOD BLESS. I mumbled under my breath and continue my pace, but not without glancing at a toddler asleep, bundled up in a stroller.

This poor woman called out to me! But for the grace of God, there go I.

I reflect back to a sad place in my life when I could have been her with my own child.

Today, this woman called out to a high school dropout. She was wearing a beautiful watch purchased from her son, a designer purse from her daughter, and an iPhone in her hand. She was wearing a sparkly diamond wedding band, nice clothes, shoes, manicured nails, and a fresh salon hairstyle, and she was climbing into her shiny SUV.

She called out to me! Lord, you’ve brought me further than I ever thought possible.

I cannot help but think back and see in my mind’s eye a young, insecure teenager who owned only one pair of shoes and hand-me-down clothes, wondering where her wandering-eyed husband was, while she struggled to care for her little ones, listening to the rumbling in her own stomach.

She was me!

Although not necessarily rolling in dough, I now have the comforts of home needed to sustain me, with more than enough food in my fridge, cupboards, and belly.  I can enjoy many things I couldn’t before, and I have remarried to a wonderful and faithful guy for almost 22 years now.

Giving Hands

I don’t look like I once did.

In my vehicle, I fumble around in my purse and find a $20 bill. I
then drive to where this woman is, roll down my window, and call out to her. Her eyes widen; a smile comes across her face. She gushes, “Thank yous and God bless yous”.

A car honks behind me.

As I drive off, I am left feeling blessed indeed. I whisper a prayer for that young woman and her baby. I am filled with gratitude as I’m reminded of how far God has brought me, knowing He’s not finished with me yet.

© M.A. Perez 2016, All Rights Reserved

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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Giving Props To A New Tribe of Memoirists

clara54's avatarClara54 Writer's Blog

Hello Authors and Happy Friday! So, I popped over to visit my good friend, RODEO CARLSON’s murder & mayhem mystery books site, only to find out she has a new book on the horizon, amid everything else going on over there. There are personal blog insights, pic of mouth-watering culinary eats, online classes forming and free stuff to boot. I downloaded an editorial calendar for authors and plan on putting it to good use 🙂 Rodeo, you rock! Just sayin’

Go here to see what I’m talking about~http://rodeocarlson.com/

Today I’m giving props to a new tribe of memoir writers by celebrating their author status , with a focus being on the memoir. I feel like it takes courage, true grit and a passion for other people to turn your life story or particular slice of your life into a memoir.

Without further ado, here are a few of the…

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Remembering the Challenger Crew

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From left: Ellison Onizuka, Mike Smith, Christa McAuliffe, Dick Scobee, Greg Jarvis, Ron McNair, and Judith Resnik.

“The crew of the space shuttle Challenger honored us by the manner in which they lived their lives. We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and ‘slipped the surly bonds of earth to ‘touch the face of God.’”

“Sometimes, when we reach for the stars, we fall short.

But we must pick ourselves up again and press on despite the pain.”

President Ronald Reagen, Jan. 28, 1986

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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January 28, 2016 · 10:04 PM

My Story

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One of my cousins from across the miles posed a couple of great questions, giving me food for thought. He asked:

Why do you write? And why do you write about the family?

My answer to him:

First of all, I write because I know I have a story to tell. As a kid, eventually, I discovered we were dirt poor. In my teens, looking back, I realized that I was neglected and forced to grow up too fast. I was ashamed of my childhood and bitter for being my mama’s mother. As I “matured,” settled down, married, and had children of my own, along the way, I found I was a stronger person because of some of the things that I endured as a child. Once I embraced the God of my grandparents, I became a much better person, too. NOT that I had it all together; I still had a few things to learn. But I learned it was much better to let go of the bitterness and forgive than to hold onto the junk. I also learned that I didn’t have to be a product of my environment! I could rise above the ashes like a phoenix and become so much better. That was my freedom — still is — and God has called us to liberty, not to be in prison. Sure, I made some mistakes along the way, but I also learned from them. It starts with a made-up mind! While I’ve managed to confront my past, I believe my past hasn’t spoiled me, but has prepared me for the future. I may not be perfect, but I can wipe the crud off and walk on whenever I stumble. I share my story that I might help one person, and if I have done that, then I have done a good thing, and God gets the glory.

I mention family because the little girl growing up — although she may have felt like she was all alone most times — was not an orphan and did not live on an island unto herself. There were others around who helped to nurture her in one fashion or another, even the antagonists in her story. And yes, some were heroes. She cannot tell her story without mentioning those she looked up to. For it to be truthful, she had to address some honest and raw emotions and mention the flaws — the good, the bad, and the ugly.

The story is not fiction. It is written about how she remembers the events that shaped her life as a child, a teenager, and into adulthood. All the memories do not take her to a happy place. She has had to dig deep to find them. To some, those “happy” places may be simple and insignificant, but to her, they were her lifeline.

His response:

I am keeping this to remind me what it takes to be selfless.

 Thanks 

CD

I did not expect THAT answer 🙂

© M.A. Perez 2014, All Rights Reserved

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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Rise to the Occasion

Bucket list. I imagined I would. Some day. Always wanted to. But never really thought I’d actually go through with it.

My posse and I

I’ve been away on a mini-vacation, a road trip to San Marcus and to San Antonio. Not only did I go, but I went on this excursion with some great gal friends of mine. Overall, it was an exhilarating ride!

I learned a few things on this trip.

I learned that if you put your mind to a thing, you can fulfill a task (if you plan ahead). I knew that schedules don’t always go according to plan. You may come across a few bumps and potholes along the way, and the winding roads of life may take a bit longer to get to your destination. And I learned that I don’t always perform well in these situations. (Ahem.)

You see, my expectations may be to do thus and so, and once my mind is made up, I am in a wee bit of a hurry to get there. But I also learned that it’s best to stop and smell the roses and make every second count. Because if you don’t, you’ll regret not doing better when you could have. I learned (and I sometimes forget) to choose my battles, and not all hiccups mean the end of the world! I learned that making each moment count is what makes every memory cherished. I learned that, despite my strengths, I still have weaknesses that need improvement. Egads! I learned that growing older doesn’t necessarily mean you stop learning. I learned that no matter what, there is always something to be grateful for. And I learn (sort of already knew) that I have the bestest of friends! We love and accept one another–flaws and all–and if feeling down, we lift the other up!

So what did we do, you ask? You mean besides the driving, shopping, dining, visiting my in-laws, and shopping some more?

We went Up, Up and Away in My Beautiful Balloon! 

Now, those who know me know that I have acrophobia (not to be confused with arachnophobia, which I also happen to have, but that’s another topic). Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have a fear of heights. Or is it a fear of falling? Either way, I tend to get the heebie-jeebies. I discovered I wasn’t the only one among us determined to face this fear. And so, face it, we did; we rose to the occasion. In fact, I was so busy taking photos on my phone that I didn’t have much time for that nervousness to take over.

Before takeoff, once the pilot said to hop in, we (about fifteen total in all) scrambled up inside that basket (with a bit of assistance from the crew), albeit somewhat clumsily, with one of our legs unable to lower from the ledge of the basket down in our tight space. So much for dignity.

To Deborah, Judy, and my new friend, LeAnn: Thanks for the memories. What’s next?

For your enjoyment, here are a few photos of our adventure.

Deborah & Judy

Deborah & Judy

 

LeAnn and myself

LeAnn and myself

Just about ready for takeoff.

 

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All for one and one for all!

Up, up, and away!

Up, up, and away!

 

3100 feet up

The Adventure-etts: 3100 feet up!

 

Beautiful Sunset

Beautiful Sunset

© M.A. Pérez 2016, All Rights Reserved

Your life is like a balloon…if you never let yourself go, you will never know how far you can rise.

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January 16, 2016 · 9:10 PM