My Saturday morning sign.

Found HERE

Many of you may know me to be a cheerful, positive, person. While I am that, I am also more. Much more.

Last year I dealt with a tragedy that hit me harder than anything I've dealt with thus far. My grandma - a woman who helped raise me and was hugely active in my everyday life since being a few weeks old - passed away. It was an incredibly difficult time for me. The hardest part was simply containing my sanity to still be a good mom. I wanted nothing more than to just curl up in a ball, crawl into my bed, and give up. I knew this was impossible, so I tried avoiding the tears by being overly active with my son, slightly smothering him with too much "mommy time". After being told by my son that he needed some "him time", I knew I was avoiding the inevitable. Then, slowly over time, everything engulfed me into a hole of pure sadness whenever my son had fallen asleep. I was able to hold a smile during the day, but after bedtime I was lost.

Fast forward to almost a year later and I've been able to cautiously build myself back together. The piece of my heart that my grandmother held will forever be gone, but it's been filled with the knowledge that she will never be in pain, never worry about bills, never deal with sickness or frustration. She's free. 

I still talk to her and pray for her on a continuous basis, but I still have worries. 

My past isn't filled with joyous occasions and a childhood everyone would be proud of. In Laymen's terms, I was a bad person. I chose a path that I'm utterly ashamed of and I've experienced many nights relentlessly crying out, praying for a chance to just erase those situations all together. In reality I wouldn't change a thing about my past, as it's made me the person I am today. While I absolutely regret ever hurting the one's closest to me, it's made me realize that I have one chance to do good in my life and being a negative person with only double my trouble. 

Because of that train of thought, I'm the positive person you see/read today. Although I am a better person overall now - not bragging, just proud of how far I've truly come - I often worry about heaven.

I'm not the greatest Catholic in the world and I know there are many skeptics out there. That's fine. I have no intentions on ever forcing my beliefs to anyone and I don't judge you based on if - or what - God you do - or do not - pray to. I don't judge period. You are who you are based on what you do from this moment on. For me personally, I constantly freak out about whether or not I'm actually alone. 

I've been told before that if you aren't a good person and you live with evil intentions, God won't be able to reach you. Your angels won't be able to protect you. You won't necessarily be alone, but you won't be close to them either. That plays through my head everyday. What if I've been too much of a bad person and I just can't be saved? What if I'm forever without God or an angel near me? What if my grandma won't ever be able to reach me. 

With all of that thinking and a few other personal struggles going on in my life, my anxiety was increasing every night, my panic attacks were making more frequent appearances, and I was slowly crying out more and more, terrified.

On Friday night I went to bed covered in tears. I started to worry if my grandma was even close to me. If she'd ever be able to show me signs or give me that "I sense her nearby" feeling. I miss her every single day and I've been so scared that throughout the rest of my life, she'd truly be forever gone. 

Saturday morning God gave me a very clear answer. 

Before I get into the "sign", let me tell you about the last thing I did with and for my grandma. Prior to my grandmothers demise and the downfall of her health, I had taken her to a grocery store. We walked around and she picked out what she needed. As we reached the checkout line, she started laughing about how she hoped not to get declined with her credit card. It broke my heart, so I said I'd pay for my stuff first, than help her bag her groceries. 

Little did my grandma know, I was setting up a surprise for her. After I paid for my groceries I secretly had the cashier swipe my card instead of my grandma's. I wanted to pay for her, at least that one time. I may not have had a ton of money or a job, but I knew she was more important than spending money on frivolous things. She called me a stinker, said I shouldn't of done that, but thanked me with her gracious smile and warm hug. I miss those hugs.

The total bill for my grandmother's groceries were around $20. I know, because I remember thinking I had an extra $20 put aside for a "night out" with my son at home. I chose to use it on her instead and my son was more than happy to give up our "night out" for a "night in". 

Now, let's get to the "sign".

Saturday morning started like any other. We woke up, opened up all the windows and front door - for the wonderful fresh morning air - and started breakfast. My son had just finished his cereal and I was just starting my coffee, when I noticed a group of five 18/19 year old's walking up our steps. We are at the very top of the apartment complex and we are the only one's up here, so when someone walks past our neighbors house and up to our door, I'm always cautious. Especially when I don't know them. I actually had thought that my neighbor was getting a new roommate, as they were carrying a few bags and had big backpacks. I was VERY wrong. 

One of the girls had proceeded to tell me that they were from a Christian church in Yuma, Arizona, and we're going around collecting money. Immediately I figured they were going to ask for a donation - which I simply didn't have - and that would be the end of it. Well, quickly after introducing the group, the girl who began the conversation said she'd like to give me the groceries they were carrying. Not one bag of groceries, but all of the groceries they had. All they asked was that I accept God's will and love. I broke down crying. 

We began to chat and I apologized for my breakdown. I simply explained that things weren't so "hot" the past couple of days - let's be honest, month's - and that this was an amazing blessing. Mind you, I didn't think anything more of this than a bunch of nice kids doing wonderful things. After briefly explaining my situation (very briefly), they read me two passages from the Bible that made it very clear. 

The two passages basically said that no matter what has happened in my past, no matter what I look like (tattoo's and green/blue hair), and no matter my situation, it's going to be ok. I asked for forgiveness, I admitted my sin's, I changed my ways, and I accepted God into my life open heatedly, therefore all is forgotten. They didn't know who I was, they didn't know what I prayed for, they didn't know I was worried about my past. They just read the passages. I knew that this was God's way of telling me I'm ok. It's going to be ok. 

After we said our goodbye's, one of the gentlemen handed me a $20 bill and said "this is so I can be blessed. I want to give you this". I began crying again, hugged them all, and wished them a safe journey back.

I immediately hugged my son and thanked him for being amazing. Once our "lovey-dovey" hugging session was over, I went to put the groceries away (milk, eggs, peanut butter - I'll be giving it to my uncle since my son has a severe peanut allergy, spaghetti, pasta sauce, cookies,  and applesauce - when I noticed the change ($1 and some coins) in the bag as well. I also found a receipt attached to the cold milk. I looked it over and smiled, thinking about these wonderful kids walking around buying groceries for a stranger. That's when cold chills went down my spine. 

The total for those groceries was $20 something dollars. 

I've also always been told that when you do a good dead, God repays your dead double. I got $20 something dollars in groceries, I got $20 something dollars in change, but most importantly I got confirmation that I am truly not alone.

Some of you may not see this as a sign. Some of you may truly understand. All I know is that the panic attacks have stopped. The anxiety has stopped. The fear has gone. This may not last - although I wish it would - for now I'm in a better state of mind. I finally feel free. 

Whether or not you believe in God, whether or not you believe my story, I want you all to know. You aren't alone. You are loved. You aren't forgotten. Things will get challenging and things will get ugly, but it's to learn from. I don't like what I've done in the past and the choices I made, but I'm glad I did. Years after the heartbreak, torment, and living on the brink of self-destruction made me become graciously accepting of all things in life. Without the lessons, only then would we be lost. 

I choose to believe in God, because having something to believe in, someone to believe in, gives me the hope and strength to go on. It gives me and my son a chance. 

Thank you God. Thank you Grandma. 

Love, 
Your little stinker. 

P.S. Happy Memorial Day everyone. I hope you guys had a magnificent time and thank you to all those fighting, to all those who fought, and to all those who've lost a loved veteran/soldier.