Ink'd Again

Over Christmas I decided to get my second tattoo. I already received one that was I was thrilled with and they aren't lying when they say it becomes addicting.

This one is a finch who represents Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird. (It's placed on my left shoulder). TKAMB is one of my all time favorite books because of its power in storytelling and its relevance even today. Atticus Finch to me is a literary hero who stands up for justice and what is right no matter the cost and no matter if knows he's going to lose. He reminds me we too must often do just that.

"Courage is not a man with a gun in his hand. It's knowing you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do." 

This serves as a reminder to me that courage not giving up, that standing up for justice is always important, even when we do lose. After all, Jesus stood against injustice and his accusers murdered him on a cross.

And this reminder hurt significantly more than the first one that's for sure.



My mom was the one who told me about having a word for the year. Last year for her, it was joy. This year it's make every square count (yes, she had 4 words, but she's my mother, she can do that). 

I've thought about what word I wanted for 2015. I was an English major in school words are very important to me. Words have power and meaning and strength. It couldn't just be any word. But as I wracked my brain for the best word I could think of, one came in a whisper. 


Not cheesy, Hallmark greeting card kind of faith. I'm talking about Hebrews 11 kind of faith. "Now Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see." 

Faith, pardon my language, is badass. As I look throughout scripture and throughout history, I see how those with strong faith are some of the toughest people. Abraham had faith God would provide a sacrifice and is about to kill his own son, with complete assurance of what he does not see. David had faith that God was good even as he running from a madman trying to kill him. The bleeding woman had faith that just the smallest touch of Jesus garment would heal her. 

This is the kind of faith I want for 2015. Confidence in what I hope for and assurance of what I do not see. I want the kind of faith that is strong, rooted, and deep. The kind that keeps me assured of who God is, and who I am created to be. Instead of being rooted in insecurity and lies - having faith. As everything seems to shift in my life as I live the wonkiness of being in my mid/late 20's, I want faith to accompany me as I take this journey.

Oh and supercalifragilisticexpialidocious came as a close second. 



I decided about a month ago to run a half-marathon in May. As a kid I hated running and I ran 2 cross country races in junior high because they made the basketball team do it. It was the most painful thing I remember about junior high athletics.

Two years ago I decided to give running another shot. Honestly I did because some of my students were doing it and I was eager to bond with them. Then I ran my first 5k race and I kind of started to like. Of course it was hard to keep the habit up so I signed up for a bigger race to train for. Therefore the half marathon.

But it became so much more. I realized I couldn't just run the race, I wanted to run for a charity. So after searching for a charity to support, I came across AFSP: American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. I knew this was my charity to run for and run with because I have had some dear friends attempt or commit suicide, wrestle with depression, and I myself wrestled with depression several years ago.

My best friend Sol, knows too well the pain of losing a loved one to suicide. When Rachelle committed suicide, it felt as if the world came to a sudden stop. I had just met her, but she was a deep friend of Sol's. We had actually just hung out a few weekends before - laughing, eating Korean BBQ, making fun of students moving out of college, listening loudly to songs on the radio. So when I got the phone call that she had died, I could hear my best friend's heart break over the phone. We were confused, distraught. Everyone was. We wondered what would we have done differently? What could we have shared? What could we have said?

So it is for Rachelle, and for the many others facing this depression, that I run this half-marathon. It is for them that I put my own body through pain, to be in solidarity through their emotional pain. It is for them that I raise money for this organization to help those who have no where else to turn to.

I miss Rachelle. I was just getting to know here and we all miss her dearly. We miss her smile and her laughter and her sarcasm, and her wit, and her friendship. Join me as I prepare to run this marathon - reading my reflections on running, sending encouraging texts, even donating to support me. All of this can make a difference in the lives of people we haven't met yet, and the lives of their friends and loved ones.

To donate online click HERE.