Midwest girl looking

Added: Wendy Gibby - Date: 13.11.2021 05:19 - Views: 44936 - Clicks: 2874

I hurt for people I love, so many people. I hurt for our world that seems to look less and less like the Jesus I know every day. I am those folks, too, at times. If you felt personally attacked by those words, honestly, I hope it creates self-reflection rather than sends you on the defensive. I approach more and more conversations with an attitude humility, listening to other life experiences, other perspectives, and trying to let those life experiences and perspectives guide my own. Reality is, those foundational things are foundational things for most folks, that foundation just looks different.

People live and think differently. I do way too often. I struggle so hard with this. I know it does. I get annoyed when other people do that, so I know how annoying it is when I do it to others.

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I hate it, and I hope I can continue to grow out of it. That has been ever more obvious throughout this year. Yet, in my life, I am unbelievably lucky to have people around me who live and converse humbly. Why is that? They ask questions. As the conversations continue, I find myself listening to them more, hearing them, understanding them. Do I agree with them all the time?

Do they agree with me? Not at all. Should I approach everyone and every conversation like that? I think Midwest girl looking. More now than ever. Will things get heated every once in a while? Should that heated discussion or argument go on and on and on and be the only kind of conversation I can have with someone who thinks differently? Absolutely not. Does that mean I have to sacrifice my foundational belief system? Today, as a professor, I was profoundly moved.

We put them all in a straight line, read a statement, and had students step forward if that statement spoke true of their own lives. We said things like, step forward if:.

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After a bit of marinating, I see the magnitude of it. There are students whose eyes and hearts have been opened, if only a little. There were conversations had after, hopefully, that led or will lead to growth. Read that again and again. Those young folks have each walked a unique path that led them to this morning.

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Their experiences create a lens from which they see life through, each one of them different and invaluable. They matter. No matter what they think about each and every politically charged issue, they matter, no more or less than the other. The world would be a MUCH better place if we approached each and every conversation tethered by love and aware of the value that each person and perspective brings, no matter how HARD remembering that may be.

I have seen change, growth and beauty most often in the midst of these conversations, of quiet, but no less passionate, discord. Midwest girl looking the conversations that feel like a contest of who can be loudest, make the other look or feel worse, or are had simply to feel superior or RIGHT. I want to be a safe place for the student, for the human, who feels alone, unwelcome or afraid. No matter where they come from, what they believe, or how they live, my door and my arms should always be open.

What about you? I promise we can do hard things and learn hard lessons…together. In the midst of the crazy, I see peace. I see hope and joy. I hear the laughter of children playing on my street. She looked…not scared…but, determined.

Determined to keep going, to keep moving. In the midst of the crazy, we are asked to make personal sacrifices. We are asked to unplug, to stop for just a moment, and see the people in our lives. Our families. Our roommates. Our pets. We are asked to think, not of ourselves, but of others first.

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And that Midwest girl looking us glance inward and realize how willing we are to do just that — put the person next door, the grandparent, the chemo patient…first. But, just remember, put your teammates first. Today, your teammates are that grandparent, that chemo patient, and the pregnant mother. In the midst of the crazy, sift through the loud, the panic, and find the humanness. Find the sound of laughing children in the neighborhood. Find the smile on the face of the person sitting next to you on the couch. Find yourself, sure, but find others, too. Take walks. Find ways to engage others online that is responsible, not panic inducing, not making light of a serious situation and complaining either.

In the midst of the crazy, be that moment of laughter, joy, and peace for someone else because there is real fear and real hurt happening. That smile and that joy, they spread, they grow, and can even bring laughter. And boy oh boy, did you know how to create laughter and entertain a room. We were all circled up for the family prayer. You always had a quip or sideways comment that never failed to surprise and entertain.

You always thought we never knew you smoked. Your house had this unique smell of cigarette smoke, peppermint, and Lysol. Your desire to look good for everyone, your obsession with your hair…and lipstick, and your need for me to put the pillows on your couch on the floor even though they actually made it more comfortable. Making particular sounds was difficult for you. I promise. I know now the absolute honor and joy of being an aunt. I get it, and I thank you for being that for me, for showing me. Not just for showing me how to be a top notch aunt, but showing me that even when you and Mamaw fought and drove each other bonkers, you were sisters.

You were always sisters. You took care of each other. You loved each other. The last conversation I ever had with you was so unbelievably fitting. I Facetimed with you for a total of about 5 minutes from work that morning. I was drinking coffee, and took a swig from my mug halfway through the conversation.

You looked a little perplexed and the following conversation ensued:. I laughed so hard I nearly peed my pants. I Midwest girl looking walked downstairs and told my boss that my aunt had just given me permission to enjoy a beer at work. She laughed and seconded the notion jokingly. That was just you. You never failed to surprise me. You loved fiercely. You loved us and supported us in everything that we did. You loved those two little great great nieces. You lost a daughter, a husband, and faced a laundry list of obstacles in this life, but yet, you took on the role of a grandmother to all of us.

You adopted us. You loved us. You smiled. You laughed. You lived. Boy…did you live. So, as we say goodbye, as we grieve, may we remember the good, knowing those memories will bring on the dichotomy of emotions that is…grief. May we smile, may we laugh, and may we cry. May we remember that a part of you we take with us; the hand that we held, the sound of your voice, the sharpness of your tongue may be gone from this world, but may we always find them when we remember. They are forever imprinted on our hearts. Helen Bandy lives on in all of us, and I sure hope I can channel your spunk every Midwest girl looking in a while because it really was something special.

Here are some of the stories…or the memories that have passed in and out of my brain over the last few days. It freaking hurt. That was pretty stellar. Only me, guys. Only me. Thanks, Em, for being a good friend during that true time of struggle. We were winning by a lot. I only add that detail because my pride is about to take a ificant hit. I drove the lane my first mistake because, like, why? This girl comes flying out of nowhere, full on palms my shot, and throws it right back in my face.

After the game was over, this spider ninja girl came walking straight up to me and started looking super closely at said face. She looked creepy? Well, it freaking worked. I saw it! I remember the first time I met most people. I really do. I remember the first time I met most of the people I went to school with, even if it was simply we were ased seats next to each other in class. I weirdly remember the first time I interacted with Kayla Maynard…which is ridiculously random to me because that was basically our only interaction ever.

Bob Evans field trip…kindergarten year — we had to have partners to walk around and she was mine. Why do I remember that?

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35 Legit Reasons Why You Should Date the Midwestern Girl