Raelenna Ferguson

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Talking infertility, foster care, adoption and having 5 kids under the age of 6.

May 7, 2017 by Raelenna Ferguson Leave a Comment

Brothers. Aiden and Jayden, 9 months apart.

Hey friends! 

I have another guest writer today. I asked my cousin Ashley to share a bit of her story. Ashley and I basically grew up together, always at all the family functions together, all the normal family traditions we were there! Our family has always known Ashley is the “baby hog” or the “kid fanatic” she just always has been a kid lover as long back as I can remember.  Thats why my heart broke for her and her husband Josh when they began battling infertility early in their marriage. My heart hurt because I’ve always known she would be a fabulous mom and how badly she wanted children.  

Fast forward–today my cousin Ashley has her big family with a house full of kiddos! God heard her cries and answered her prayers but not in the traditional family way but by foster care and adoption.  Ashley and Josh said yes to foster care and in 3 years of being foster parents they are now the parents of 5 kids under the age of 6.  And 2 sets of those kids have birthdates in the same year…(crazy right?!).

Of course there are many details and many stories that could be told about Ashley’s family . Like how the two oldest boys are only 9 months apart, they came within weeks of each other with one named Aiden and one named Jayden, one black and one white. Basically twins with matching names and different color skin. Or how her 2 youngest girls are sisters, they are only 363 days apart and both were born premie teeny tiny babies…..let’s just let Ashley share a bit of her journey. Here it is:

Written by Ashley:

I was asked to share my story because deep down we know there are plenty of women, couples, etc. that need to hear it. I’m sure everyone has heard the word INFERTILITY, but some may not have experienced it. Some may be going through it right now, while some may be hiding it in the closet. Let me tell you this, DO NOT HIDE IT! There is nothing to be ashamed of. I totally get it; you don’t want people to think something is wrong with you or that you are a failure. I’m sure you are feeling like a failure. I have been there and done that. When I was 13 years old, I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Disease. I remember the doctor being very blunt about it “You are going to have a hard time having kids and that day may never come for you. So prepare yourself when you hit that stage of life.” Now, at 13, that was the least of my worries. Yes, I knew I wanted to be a mom, I just didn’t think it would overtake my life when that time came.

My husband and I got married in 2011. I was up front with him when we started dating in 2010 about the reproductive issues I have. I always thought, be up front so if they don’t want the fight or battle of infertility, they have a chance to walk away. This brave man did not walk away.

In the summer of 2013, we did our first infertility cycle at St. Lukes Hospital in Chesterfield, MO with Dr. Pineda. I was making trips back and forth every other day for ultrasounds, Clomid, injections of Follistim, etc. It was overwhelming with not only what all hormones were being pumped into my body but the amount of money we were spending. Long story short, the cycle did not work. I couldn’t get pregnant that round. Dr. Pineda walked in and said “I’m sorry but we have to stop this cycle and you need to go home and talk it over about the next round. The reason why is because the amount of hormones and money will double or triple.” We went home that day and I refused to talk about it. I was so upset. I had failed my husband and I had failed my family. I couldn’t give them a baby. I got really angry with God. I questioned him every single day on why he would do this to me. He knew that we were capable of taking very good care of a child and more than ready. He knew how much love we had in our hearts for a child. The anger and sadness went on for a good while.  I had to watch other people announce their pregnancies. I had to politely decline going to baby showers. I couldn’t deal with it. I didn’t want to deal with it. Why should I go and fake a smile and happiness when all I really was, was sad.  My husband was such a trooper through it all! He never gave up on me and he always had the faith that we would pull through this.

Our family before baby Cori arrived this spring.

One day, I decided enough was enough. I apologized to God and I begged him to show me why he did this. What did he want us to do? What were we missing? I prayed and begged for him to show us signs for a while. Finally, he answered that prayer. He threw Foster Care/Adoption straight in my face. It knocked me down. I couldn’t believe it. Did he really think we would be good at that? Did he really want to break my heart even more by bringing us a child and then having said child leave our home? I had enough of the heartaches. Why bring on even more? Then I realized, any child that came to us, whether biologically or through foster care, was ultimately his child, and he could take any of them away at a moment’s notice. I had to trust him. I had to let the control go. I had to come to terms with foster care/adoption was the reason why God put us on the path of infertility. I stopped asking questions and we decided that we had to answer God’s call for us.

We have had a total of 8 kids in our home since the end of 2014. Aiden, our very first child to come to our home, is now our forever son. His adoption was completed at the end of 2016. Jayden, was our second child to come to our home. We have guardianship of him and will be pursuing adoption this year with him. L.C is our 3 year old little boy whose laughter is contagious. His journey is still unfolding.

Kam and Cori. Sisters that are 363 days apart.

Kam is our 1 year old who we have had since birth. We are in the process of finalizing her adoption this year. We also just brought home Kam’s 1 month old baby sister from the hospital. We don’t know where her journey will take her but all we can do is pray for God to do what is best for her and hold on tight.

We had 3 other children come into our lives from 2015 to early 2016. Two of them stayed for a short 4 weeks and the other one was with us for 9 months. They all 3 returned to their biological parents and we celebrated with them, even though we miss them like crazy.

Our lives are crazy, messy, beautiful, blessed, and I would not change it for anything! We are living out the journey God specifically planned for us. Why he thought I could handle 5 kids, under the age of 6 years old I have no clue!  I am trying my hardest at being the best mommy and wife I can be. I love my life even though I have days where I want to throw in the towel or go sit in the bathroom and just cry all night. But when my kids run up to me to give me a hug or tell me they love me, it makes this journey completely worth it!

If you are dealing with the infertility, don’t give up the fight!!! I always like this quote “However Motherhood comes to you, it is a MIRACLE”!! Don’t think you have to go down one straight path to become a mother. Listen to God. Pray for him to show you what he wants from you. He will show you when he is ready and when he knows you are ready!

Always remember that you are not alone in this fight. There are several women and men battling infertility. Find a support group or a friend who might be going through the same thing. They are the ones that are easiest to talk to. They get it. No offense to family and friends, but if they haven’t experienced it, they truly don’t understand.

Don’t be afraid to share your story or your journey. You never know who it might help.  Don’t give up! Don’t be afraid to consider the “non-traditional” way of having a family.  All children are God’s children and now I see they can come to us in all different ways.

Thanks for reading and I hope it gives encouragement and hope to those that may have being some of the same feelings I’ve had.

Ashley

Ashley and Josh and their 5 kids this past Easter.

Thank you Ashley!!!  Gosh–I am so proud of my cousin. Let me tell you I had 3 kids under the age of 4 1/2 for a while and it was H.A.R.D!  Mad props to Ashley and Josh and their awesome support team.

I think what I love so much of Ashley’s story is how God not only fulfilled Ashley’s dream of being a mommy but he also clearly hand picked each of those kids for Ashley and Josh. 

I hope this brightens your day, makes you smile, gives you hope, challenges you..whatever it is your feeling today. 

I”m grateful for my little cousin,

 

The biggest dream yet – One City.

April 23, 2017 by Raelenna Ferguson 1 Comment

“I want you to start something like this” those are the words I heard.

Jeremy and I were standing in a worship service at Austin New Church, the church founded by Brandon and Jen Hatmaker. The music was incredible (I mean it’s Austin, funky cool people and awesome music) but it wasn’t the music that God was talking about when He spoke those words into my head. It was the culture around us, it was the mix of people, it was the colors of the people worshipping together, it was the ages, it was the different style and ways each person was worshipping, the unity and sense of togetherness. It was the freedom and feeling of true community in the atmosphere that day that took my breath away.

During the rest of the service I quietly and internally panicked. I was determined to not tell anyone what I just heard in my head. I was terrified that God had just spoke into me and called us to plant a church and the last thing on my life plan would be to start a church, and by last I mean VERY last thing. So I decided I would tuck that little nugget away and keep it tight and safe, telling no one not even Jeremy. 

Service ended and we headed to our rental car so we could hit up downtown Austin before flying home that night. As soon as we got in the car I could tell something was up with Jeremy. He just looked off and I was afraid to ask, so I didn’t. I didn’t have to. He looked at me with tears in his eyes and said I heard something in that service (my inner voice was like well crap or maybe something worse). He said I heard “I want you to start something like this”.  There it was, the exact same 8 words I heard he had heard at the exact same point in the service I did.

I would love to tell you that sitting in our rental car in that school parking lot after we knew without a doubt that we just heard a calling from the Lord that there was all kinds of magical feelings of excitement and trumpets were blowing. Nope nothing like that, actually the exact opposite. I sort of lost my mind and started spitting stupidness out of my mouth, lots of selfishness and lots of whining and crying about how this is not what I want in this phase of life. How I don’t really even like church, how I had been a pastor’s wife before and it didn’t work out real good for me. Do you see the pattern of the “me” and the “I” here?  Again, at this point we both really felt it was a calling to start a church. I knew I would be obedient, but I had made up my mind I was going to go kicking and screaming.  

God was very gracious with us after that morning, even that night our flight was canceled and we had to stay in Austin another night. It was actually perfect, we had an extra night away from real life and could be alone together and process and sort of wrap our heads around what was happening. We had some more time to capture our thoughts and realize maybe it wasn’t the literal version of a church God was calling us to, maybe it was a new way of doing community together with the church.

We came home from Austin on a soul journey. It was game time, we both knew it. What the Lord spoke to us was not a prophetic word for 10 years down the road, it was for now. The time was now! We met with our pastors and shared what had happened, we wanted them to know first because we knew we would either be leaving our church to start a new one or we would be starting something new that hopefully our church would want to be part of.

One thing Jeremy and I knew when God said to us both “I want you to start something like this” he meant diversity. He meant relationships, connections and life with people that look different than us. He meant people lifting each other up, sharing life and resources, coming together as one, as a true community. We knew this because we had already felt this conviction for a while, that our world was very white and very homogenous, that we had no friends of color. Three things really hit us hard: First, we have an adopted African American daughter who has no one that looks like her in her life. Secondly, we have no one in our life that looks different than us. Three, there are needs in our community and we know people with resources. We need to figure out ways to connect the dots

Here’s one thing about me, I may kick and scream for a little bit about something I don’t want to do, even when I know the Lord is calling me to it. But once I become obedient, I am all in. It didn’t take too long and both Jeremy and I were going all in.

We knew we had to start forming relationships and friendships within our diverse community.  We knew without a shadow of a doubt it was time for us to get around people who did not look like us, more than anything to learn and just listen. We knew we needed to get to know and hear from our neighbors who live in different socioeconomic areas of town than we do. God was stretching us more and more and challenging us. We began having hard conversation with people. Have you ever had to have a super awkward conversation with anyone? Like just plain uncomfortable and out of your comfort zone? Well that is just what Jeremy and I had to start doing. Yet, through these uncomfortable phone calls or meetings we have been met with grace and love and the same desire to get to know our community as a whole without preconceived racial or economic barriers. It has been refreshing, inspiring, fun and so very hopeful.

We know God has been preparing us to lead this new calling for many years, we can go back a full decade and see His hand all over this. It has became more and more evident as we have dug in deeper on this journey of searching out what the Lord was calling us to. A little bit of this is shared on the Behind the Scenes page of the One City website. (can be found here: http://onecityunite.org/the-team/)

There is a lot more to this story and many details that have been perfectly orchestrated, one day I may put the entire story into words. For now I want to share a few personal things and how God confirmed One City very specifically to me. I journal almost daily, every morning I wake up before everyone else and write out my thoughts, my prayers, my dreams and just anything that comes to my mind. When we were praying about this new possibility for our community I decided to go back and read some of my very old journals, specifically looking for direction or confirmation.

What I found in my journals were paragraphs and paragraphs of me asking God to show me my place in this city, over and over again. Asking him to reveal ways for our family to serve and make a difference together. I have one specific prayer in my journal asking God to please reveal our purpose and mission to Jeremy and I at the exact same time (hello Austin). There are prayers of empathy and determination, prayers of frustration and fears. It’s all there in my own words, in my own handwriting, almost a decade of searching and asking.

I am sharing a few pictures of my journal entries that have been confirmation to my hesitant heart. While re-reading my journals I found things I don’t even remember writing or feeling. I also found my heart was stirred for our community as far back as 2007. I found where I had journaled the name One City and how it had came to me while vacuuming my floor one day in 2013, with no idea what it was meant for, until it was revealed this year. Back in 2013 when our church did the Circle Maker series by Mark Batterson. One City was the name I wrote inside my circle for 21 days, without an hint of what would be coming 4 years later. Isn’t it crazy 4 years ago God gave me the name One City with no other instructions. I was actually so confident that that name would mean something one day that I went straight to godaddy.com and bought the domain, again 4 years ago. Then I sort of forgot about it, until God spoke again 2 years ago when this whole new adventure was beginning. We knew without a doubt the name was One City and our mission would be to unite our city as ONE. I hope you go check out our website, sign up to stay in the loop and get involved!!  We are excited and hopeful and we would be lying if didn’t say we weren’t a little bit scared…taking one step at a time and walking in faith and settling for nothing less than unity in Jesus.

Journal entries from 2013. Job Training and breaking cycles are one of our key 3 initiatives. Again this was 4 years before we had any clue what would happen.
Journal entry for 21 Days of Prayer 2013. Community Development, relationships, provide people with the passion
Journal Entry 2013. Crazy thing is I journaled about FCC and 4 years later the Community Center building God provides is right across from the Family Counseling Center.
Jeremy and I last year inside the building that will become the One City Community Center. Can you say sweaty!!
Another entry from 2014 when God began convicting us of our very white world we were living in.

 

We’ve had some amazing friends and spiritual mentors who have had our back, heard our cries and fears but kept us focused and

Hot and sweating and dreaming. Thankful for longtime friends that never flinch at our crazy dreams.

moving forward.  This is just the beginning.  Do not miss this shorten  version of how One City came to be. The story can be found on our website on the Behind the scenes page. Here is the link http://onecityunite.org/the-team/

Be sure to go read that short story and also visit our full website www.onecityunite.org. Sign up to stay connected and ways to get involved and follow us on social media.  One City needs you.

We are ONE–Ephesians 4:4-6 T’here is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.”

 

The Shadow of Control

February 10, 2017 by Raelenna Ferguson 1 Comment

Ok friends we have a guest that wrote this one…

Here is my beautiful and brave friend Sam. We’ve been neighbors for almost 7 years but recently our paths have crossed more into a friendship. Another one of those perfectly appointed times in my life where God’s timing is perfect. Both Sam and I are at similar times in our life of mothering, learning, growing and finding and following our purpose in this world.

Here is a blog Sam wrote last week about herself and some battles she has fought and won. I am amazed at her transparency and willingness to share her personal battle with Anorexia in hopes that it brings light to the disease and hope and encouragement to others.

Here are her words. Please share with anyone that may need to hear her words.—

 

I read an amazing book by a woman named Susan Jaramillo titled “How God Rewrote My Heart.” Jaramillo is a strong woman to have endured the trials and tribulations she experienced throughout life. The book focuses on how God helped her heal from all these experiences. Short, sweet and to the point, I could relate to how she felt in certain life situations, even if our experiences were completely opposite.  Susan hit upon how control ruled her life and how her spirit was broken because of the lack of self-worth she felt.

I guess it brings me to finally put onto paper my own story of struggle and of defeat. It is nothing earth shattering, especially if you think about the struggles others in the world can deal with each day. But none-the-less my story is about a point in my life when I hit my own rock bottom and how control and lack of self-worth engulfed every aspect of my world.

I have written previously about women and our self-worth in a post a few years ago, but my own personal vendetta did not get included in the article. Now I feel like it is time to get the demons out on paper. It is time to come to grip with my own personal failures and mishaps.

It is hard, when you are young and naïve, to really see how one’s own decisions impact the people around you. I never gave much thought to this notion, mainly because I never really believed enough people cared what I did in this world. It was my own Demon in my head telling me how worthless I was to everyone. If I had to really think when this all began I would pin it around young adolescence. Growing up is so hard for any kid, and throw in insecurity, the mix becomes a toxic concoction of self-hatred and self-doubt. I always felt extremely inadequate when it came to friendships or finding my own niche in school. The only place I felt safe and secure was my academic life and knowing my teachers respected my efforts in the classroom. I was a shy kid, kind of a loaner in school with just a few close friends. I would never have labeled myself as popular. I avoided trying out for the cheerleading squad or dance squad. I stuck to more “academic” pursuits because I felt comfortable there. So as I hit high school, I stayed out of parties for the most part and skimmed the parameter of all the “in crowds.” I just didn’t ever feel “good enough” to be a part of those groups, and I was afraid of rejection. I never saw myself as pretty or savvy enough to be included in things they did. I didn’t really date anyone either because I knew I was not the one guys wanted in our high school. I was awkward, felt a tad overweight and had crazy curly hair. But I was smart, and for some reason that was a comfort to me. I knew I could do anything that required the use of my brain. My close friends included me in social things and tried to help me come out of my shell. I loved them, and still do, for their loyalty to me as a friend and “personal cheerleader” in high school.

What pre-teen or teenage girl doesn’t feel this way? Like the entire world is looking at her with a magnifying glass, just waiting for one wrong step. My own feelings of self-worth didn’t have a thing to do with the amount of love my parents showed me. I grew up in a good household where my parents lived lovingly under the same roof, my dad had a good job and my mom stayed at home to care for me. I did not have any brothers and sisters in my home to make me share things or deal with the daily annoyances I find my own kids struggling with today. It was a great childhood, but for some reason I became the left out play dough, unable to form into something flexible and easy to mold. I was always opinionated at home because that was where I felt safe and secure. Aside from that you would always find me amicable and easy-going because I didn’t want to cause disturbance or annoyance. I chose what situations I wanted to be in, and stayed far away from areas I felt unsafe or uncertain.

I lost myself in books and movies, anything to pull me out of my own head and my own thoughts. By the time I reached the end of my high school career I was deciding on how the hell to get out of my small town upbringing and try to create my own persona, my own identity. I wanted to be away from any stereotype and discover how the world really lived outside “Peyton Place.” Going off to college seemed to be the best thing, moving away from home and attending a good school that gave me the academic challenges I so craved.

My senior year was an exciting time because by December I knew where I was going to college and I saw this light at the end of the tunnel. Freedom to make my own way, meet people from other states and really find what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I think I worked a little harder on appearances that year too, and I even became interested in a boy. Perhaps by that point I could relax a bit and “sail” my way through the rest of the most awkward and uncertain time in my life: high school.

I only saw one side of leaving home, my side, and it was invigorating. I didn’t consider the other side my parents experienced. The fear of letting your only child go out on her own and praying everything you did while she/he was growing up would come to fruition. That is what my mom and dad experienced after dropping me off at school, looking back in the review mirror as I proudly waved good-bye to them. They were lost to the battles that lay ahead of me. They were lacking proper ammunition to deal with the struggles I would soon face in college.

The beginning of freshman year was an adjustment. Being a kid who loved routines, I had to take some time before figuring out my own. Once I did, it was also very hard for me to let go and have fun. I felt I had this immense responsibility to myself, to my parents and to the world when it came to my grades. I needed to show everyone that I could do this—move away from home, attend a prestigious university on a public school education and blow the world away. I realized then my days of breezy afternoons by the pool were over. It was go-time and I needed to pull up my bootstraps to get the grades. So I did, but in the meantime, my failures I received in the classroom knocked down the fragile self-confidence I had developed my senior year in high school. I was back to square one, surrounded by exceptionally smart people who went to private schools in large cities or boarding schools on the coasts. They were also beautiful, thin, well-groomed individuals, especially the girls. I had no idea where I fit in on this campus. What I held so dear in high school, which was my intelligence, became completely challenged and my lack of self-esteem did not help the situation.

My parents often talked about things they saw me doing after school. Would she be a doctor? Would she be a lawyer (maybe because I was so argumentative), or would she be something else? My parents were in the medical field, so that is all they knew. But they never shied away from the idea of me doing something different. I just could never gain the self-confidence I needed to get out from under their shadow of successes. I never felt independent enough to make mistakes and be okay with it. For us, mistakes were bad and for me mistakes were irreversible. I couldn’t live with irreversible. So when it came to earning good grades and succeeding in my college courses, I wanted to blow the damn world away. Yet, the pressure that is placed on someone’s shoulders can be excruciating. When that pressure is personally put there, the effects can be life changing and severely damaging.

Freshman year wasn’t a complete bust. Don’t get me wrong at all here because I did meet some girls I felt a strong connection to and enjoyed being around. We all became pretty close that year after living in the same hall, and we ended up staying together until the end of our college career. But as life ebbs and flows, mistakes are made and life-lessons are learned, the relationships began to change. In the beginning, we felt the same about the environment around us. We had come to the school because we knew the education would be outstanding but I don’t think we were expecting the rest of it. As I contemplate on this time in my life now, as a 37-year-old adult with a family and life experiences under my belt, I realize how much we had on the ball if we had just recognized it. But college is so hard for adolescent kids. Everyone is trying to fit into this perfect mold and also discover who he or she really is as individuals. Some people find it right off the bat, others it takes years to develop. But my college experience was not full of fraternity parties or sorority socials. I had chosen not to pledge after going through rush during my freshman year. I remember being so nervous around all the other girls; they were so perfect. I just didn’t see myself fitting into their perfect world. Perhaps it was good I did not join because I struggled enough with control as each semester passed and I placed more and more expectations on myself with my classes.

Those expectations grew into something bigger and more dangerous and suddenly I found myself in the rabbit hole of self-control and restrictions. I destroyed the relationships I had built around me during my college career because of my reckless obsession to become perfect. We, as a group of girls, did not know how to handle it, and I let it go too far. Who can ever be around someone who never smiles, who is stressed out all the time and feels such a lack of self-worth? It is depressing and sour, and relationships won’t last a single minute longer than necessary. I take all the blame on losing my friendships from college. I can’t blame those girls for not wanting to be around my crazy-mindedness and me. I was so intense and self-imploding; I didn’t even want to be around me.

Here we go on the journey of an eating disorder. It is an ugly journey that completely engulfs every being of your mind. It is a disease about control; at least that is what mine became centered on in college. I loved my coursework, in spite of the occasional boring required class. My professors listened to my viewpoints during lectures and I never felt awkward when I visited office hours. My brain was there in front of my face and body. It was the first thing someone saw when I entered the room. But placing intelligence in one basket entirely can be dangerous for someone of my nature. I wanted perfection in my classrooms, especially when it came to grades and my budding passion for becoming a writer of some kind. It fed the Demon that told me to portion out servings and live on a fat-free regiment. I could tell you how many calories and fat constituted normal “pantry” foods. At meals, I would count in my head how many calories I ingested during one meal. I controlled how much I ate, what I put in my mouth and how long I stayed awake to study. It was an endless cycle of self-destruction. It blew away my body, and it engulfed my friendships in flames. It was an awful way to live, and I have only myself to blame for it all.

College was the time when I started running every day and when I really began working out. I was trying to make my body match my brain so when I walked into a social setting outside of classroom professors and students I could feel strong and empowered. Running allowed me to break out of the ironclad determination I slipped on every day I attended class. I could breath easier and loose myself in the natural high running can give a person. I competed with myself on how fast I could run at times or how long I could last if I didn’t count the miles. When you are living on a diet of low-fat carbohydrates and little protein, your body starts to shrink. For me, it was a visual affirmation to how well I was running my life. Yes, I could do this all on my own. I could earn the grades, be my own self away from my family and begin to fit into the beauty I saw all around me on campus.

It makes me sad when I sit and write about this because I see now what a waste it all was for me, and for my parents. I blew away four years of my life and missed out on fun times and everlasting friendships because of my self-destructive, obsessive behaviors. It can make a person become so humble to fully accept such a verdict. To know that I am my own worst enemy when it comes to my actions. I am the one to blame.

This inner competition sticks with me today, although sometimes I have to squelch that Demon and make it behave. The self-competitive me became the anorexic me after freshman year. Finally, it is out and in the open. The ugly, nasty “A” word that every parent fears will label their child. My parents lived that fear when I came home for that first summer after finals. I had ended the relationship with the boy from my high school senior year and my heart was broken, my spirit demolished but my intellect was intact. I had earned high grades that year. I had also lost 15 pounds since Christmas break, and I really didn’t have 15 to lose.

I changed, and not for the better. My grades kept going higher as my weight went lower during each semester. I watched relationships become damaged and endangered during the rest of my college career. All because I was trying to fit into this mold I believed I needed to fill. I placed that expectation on myself, despite the pleadings of my parents and my closest friends. The latter part of my Junior year was when I hit my lowest weight, under 100 lbs. I had not had a menstrual cycle in months. My roommates and my parents had an intervention one night before midterms. It still makes me tear up after all this time when I remember those conversations. The anger and despair we all felt at one time, in one tiny dorm room, now floats across my mind. I knew I needed to change, but I didn’t know how to do it. I was tightly wound, rigid as steel and I wasn’t sure I would ever become the person I was before I came to college.

But I fought, and I fought hard, to find myself on my own. I knew I had to change and that I had to be the one to do it, but it would not be overnight. I lost a roommate after junior year because she could not live with it all anymore. I wouldn’t have blamed the others if they had moved out too. No one can survive around someone who is hard as stone and driven to a point of madness about academic responsibilities. I dug deep in my soul to find strength to let go of my inner demons. I needed to relinquish the control I was trying to have on every single aspect of my life. I needed to learn to breathe again like I did before I turned into this crazy monster that forgot how to have fun and relax.

I know now, with time and wisdom, my lack of self-worth brought me down the path of self-destruction. It got to the point when my parents wanted to bring me home to them. They threatened to pull me out of school and move me home if I didn’t start to eat more and put on some weight. My hair was beginning to fall out and bones began to protrude in places. So I agreed to eat, and my mom would drive down to school every so often hauling a load of my favorite treats and goodies. Doing anything she could to make me eat. But what is ironic is how that was the last thing I needed. I get that now as a parent because parents will do anything to protect their children. All my parents wanted to do was protect me and help me find myself again. My parents and roommates did the best they could in that situation. But my mom’s brownie truffle was not the answer to the problems at hand. It was a Band-Aid to a very large sore.  I remember my mom stopping in Nashville one weekend, bringing me yet another bucket of brownie truffle. As she placed the bucket on the counter she proceeded to tell me how proud she was that she didn’t even “lick the spoon” while making it. That statement was a slit to my anorexic wrist. You don’t tell someone suffering from an eating disorder how excited you are for restricting your own self from something. The anorexic (me in this case) will take that to the next level. It just goes to show how intricate this disease can be to someone not suffering from its claws. When she left that afternoon I threw the entire container in the trash completely untouched.

My parents tried to find a psychiatrist on campus for me to see. I met with some old-school psychology guru who had published a few books through the university’s press. It appeased my parents and kept me enrolled in school. I was now surviving on two fronts. As a student wanting to earn the grades and as an anorexic hiding her dirty secret from the world. He was a nice man, and we only met for about an hour. He told me how worried my parents were for me and talked to me about why I didn’t need to put so much stress on myself. The honest truth here is I could not remember one thing the man said to me during that visit. There was no personal connection. He was just a means to an end for my mom and dad. I appeased it all so I could pretend I was getting better and able to change. Again it is the intricate workings of a mind whittled with self-doubt. I just wanted to get out of there so I could hit the library again and continue preparing for exams. He gave me one of his books to read and told me to call if I needed more help. I left that office knowing I would never see his face again. I lied to my parents when they called to ask how it went. I said the man really helped me and I could already feel myself getting better. Again, another Band-Aid to a huge ulcerated sore. It made my parents feel better, especially with them feeling helpless and lost as to how to handle my situation. I did end up reading this guy’s book he signed and gave to me. It wasn’t bad, just not what I needed at the time.

This was how I lived the remainder of my years in college. Trying to put up a good front of being “healthy” and eating better, yet compensating for all the additives in my life. I ran longer, worked out harder trying to “adjust” for what I put in my mouth in front of friends and my parents. I was fighting a constant battle in my head that said I needed to get my shit together, but also not to cave to weakness. I was the one in control here, nobody else. I called the shots when it came to my lifestyle. It was a slow beginning to the process of retraining my brain for anything close to normalcy.

Before my senior year of college, I took an internship in Washington, D.C. That was a great summer. I lived in a city full of energy and fun people who were like the “old” me. I found a bit of myself that summer, making new routines and reminding myself that what I did with my body was for health and happiness and nothing else. My brain led me through it all, keeping me focused and grounded. My heart began to heal from a long and exhausting point in my life. I turned 21 that summer in France with my parents, and I learned on that trip how to develop a healthy relationship with food. I also became in love with wine and it introduced a new level of connection with my mom and dad. I know this is why I have such a big heart for wine and all it encompasses. That summer was a time of healing for me and again I was finding myself opening up to a new point in my life. I had decided to move to Dallas, Texas with my dear friend from high school. She was graduating from Texas A & M the same time I was graduating from Vanderbilt. My life was finally coming together, and it was in a good way.

Changing was not easy, but slowly, with time and a lot of perseverance I prevailed. My friends helped me, as did my parents. But the biggest help to me was myself. My ability to see reality for what it was and take slow and steady steps away from the muck of anorexia. I never did see anyone professionally for my disease. I worked through it myself with books, strong friendships and a passion for learning how to eat the healthy way.

I had to completely re-wire my entire relationship with food after college and post-college. It took a good ten years to really discover living with a nutritious diet. I continued to read books, find videos and television shows on cooking and create my own perspective on how food should taste and what I wanted to eat every day. Gone were days of frozen vegetables for dinner or saltines and honey for lunch. I was now discovering an entirely new lifestyle, and I was beginning to fall in love with wholesome food. I knew what I cooked and ate was going to be good for my body. I lost the fear of putting something in my mouth. I lost the fear of relinquishing control over something because I was completely involved in my diet.

Unless you have walked the footsteps of an anorexic or bulimic, it is hard to understand what goes through the mind of someone suffering from these diseases. The issues are real and ugly and completely opaque to the rest of the world. One little word or a phrase can turn someone’s sphere upside down. And now that I am older and have worked through my own issues with my eating disorder, I have become so very sensitive to what the rest of the world discusses. I know that word or phrase which destroys a girl’s (or boy’s) self-esteem and self-worth.

My eating disorder led me down a new path with food. I am to the point now where I love knowing how beneficial healthy foods can be for the body, and I am not scared to sit down and eat full meals. I no longer count calories when making meals. I just simply assess what I feel hungry for and what I think my body may need. I let go and started letting healthy food rule my diet. I was finally becoming free of my Demon. And I also learned to enjoy wine with my meals, and discover the beauty and potential it has on one’s life.

I ended up graduating from Vanderbilt with honors, and they were earned with blood, sweat, and tears. I poured my heart and soul into my education and desire to become a writer of some kind. Thanks to my professors and my parents I had a new kind of boost and it was that I could write and do it well. My dad always told me writing is something that can never be taken away from me. A person doesn’t forget to write if it is a talent that comes naturally to them. Something completely inherent in my soul, this is what writing is for me. I had battled dragons of control and self-worth in college, but I had come out the victor. I had bruises and scars that would take many years to heal, but they are also reminders of what I know I can do to make myself better. I know I have the strength in me to put up a good fight, and my experience as an anorexic showed me how to put my dukes up.

Age is not a bad thing because it also gives you wisdom. I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine about finally getting comfortable in my own skin. It took time to figure that out, and it wasn’t an easy discovery. I am not saying life is always peaches and cream, just the opposite in fact. But I have read enough books about how negative society can be, how all kinds of media can prey on men and women and how such unrealistic expectations are completely worthless. Each page I turned made me realize how much easier my own battle would have been with these recitations and realizations about body image and health. I know my experience with an eating disorder led me to the path of learning to love food, to learn how it nourishes our bodies and what I can do to make myself stay vibrant from the inside out. It led me to develop a stable relationship with exercise and listen to my body. I know when to reach for goals and when it’s time to back off. God allowed the failures of my early twenties to open the door and discover happiness and confidence. How poetic His pathways can be for us when we are simply still, listening unfiltered to His words.

I have often wondered if my experience would ever help prevent someone from going down the path of destruction as I did in college. I was one of the lucky ones who made the turn before real damage was done to my body and my mind. Yes, it took some time to heal physically and mentally from my experiences, but it was peanuts compared to what some boys and girls go through with an eating disorder. And unfortunately, it all starts at such a young age, often before kids hit double digits. Coming back to the town I grew up in to raise my own family, I see small glimpses of destruction and I want to reach out and stop the train wreck I know will happen in a few years to these individuals. How sad is that? Our children are finding out at such an early age what self-worth is and isn’t in life. It makes my stomach flip and is why I am so protective of my own children, especially my daughter. I will fight for her and fight hard to keep her on the path I wished I had stayed on years ago. I have my ammunition ready for whatever battle I face. I just wish I could protect all the soldiers out there who will succumb to the unrealistic expectations lurking out in the real world.

Thank you, Susan Jaramillo, for being brave enough to share your story with the world. It gave me the strength to share my own story in hopes it might touch someone.   Perhaps it will permit someone feeling lost and forgotten to stop and smell the roses. Allow someone to realize they are shining stars amongst a sea of darkness called Reality.

If you know someone suffering or if you are suffering from an eating disorder, please have the strength to get help.   Find a friend or loved one to confide in. There is no shame in what you are experiencing. The shame comes from ignoring the problem and letting it fester like an open wound. Power comes with knowing how to heal oneself, and that power lies within you. Although I was able to work through my issues alone, there are some out there that may need the love and support of outside help. It can be hard for the friends and family of someone suffering from eating disorder to disassociate their feeling and emotions from the problem at hand. They are too connected to the person suffering from the disease. If this is where you find yourself, there are also countless third-party resources available, like the National Eating Disorder Awareness website (www.nedawarness.org), to provide direction. Counselors and therapists are specialized to help people heal from this disease and can hold an individual’s hand through the walk of recovery. Or simply talking to someone recovering from his or her own disorder, such as myself, could be a great place to begin the pathway to freedom. If you know someone suffering from an eating disorder, reach out to that person; give them the confidence they need to find a way out of those invisible chains of destruction. You never know what people really need unless you first open up your heart to them. Eating disorders are a silent disease that can be cured, treated and overcome.

For anyone who needs an anonymous ear to listen, I can be reached at sbrhodes@sbcglobal.net.

 

Now wasn’t that beautifully brave?!   

“For nothing is hidden, except to be revealed; nor has anything been secret, but that it would come to light.” Mark 4:22

Thank you for reading!! I love that light will always win over darkness, there is no reason to live in darkness.

Share away!

 

 

 

I have been you.

January 25, 2017 by Raelenna Ferguson Leave a Comment

For all the young women struggling out there–specifically single moms–I want you to hear me here.

I have been you. I have been the single mom. I have been lost. I have been scared. I have given up on my dreams. I have literally had zero money. I have worked two jobs to pay bills. I have made huge mistakes I thought would haunt me forever. I have had times when I have forgotten who I even was. You know the saying Been there done that, thats me.

Here is where I need you to hear me–it can happen to you.

The fairytale. The hopes and dreams. The love. The job. The husband. The kids. The vacation. The white picket fence. The life you yearn for.

If there is one thing that I know about myself as I get older and more years pass is that I get more and more passionate about encouraging young women to never stop dreaming. I know this passion comes from my own life and the struggles I had in my early 20’s–to the completely opposite life I live now. A fire burns deep inside of me that makes my heart ache for other young women to become who they are meant to be and live the life intended for them.  

Yesterday we had an awards celebration in my profession of real estate. I always call this time of year The Award Season, kind of like how Hollywood has their big award season. We get dressed up and go to these fun luncheons and dinners and are acknowledged for our previous year’s accomplishments. Yesterday I got to walk up and receive the highest achievement award you can receive. Later last night when things slowed down I just sat on my bed and reveled in how my life is so drastically different from those earlier years. This is not about an award for selling real estate, this is about my life. Where I was and where only God could have possibly taken me.  

This is about where you are right now and not giving up on the endless possibilities of what your life can become. I know the feelings you feel and the thoughts that you have. The times of overwhelming doubt that things won’t ever change for you. The thought that this is just the way it’s going to be for me. Thoughts of envy when you see other women who have freedom with no strings attached. The fear of making a change or being paralyzed by not even knowing what to change to make your life different. I know what it’s like to have those big dreams that seem so far out of reach and so fairytale that you don’t tell anyone, you just tuck them down deep down inside. Sometimes you tuck them down so deep that you yourself forget your own dreams.

Here is where I need you to hear me again–please don’t give up. Please keep dreaming and pushing and being you. Try hard to not forget who you are and when I say this I mean who you are deep down inside of you. The you that maybe no one else even knows. Write your thoughts and dreams for yourself down. Journaling is therapeutic for me and I love going back and reading my journal and seeing how so much has changed. Don’t push who you are so deep away that you lose your true self. If it’s going back to school then you should go back to school (school was so not my thing). If it’s breaking up with your boyfriend, do it. If it is about moving or changing jobs, volunteering, starting a ministry, you should do it. If you can’t do it right at this moment, then start making a plan to put those things into action. I have no idea what you might need to change, thinking about or dreaming for. I do know that as a young woman and even more so a young single mom you must never lose sight of who you are deep inside and who you want to become.  Never stop believing for yourself things can change. If you don’t believe it first no one else will.

For me it was not about the white picket fence or the work success it was more about allowing myself the freedom to dream again and honestly just being able to be the truest version of myself I can be. This came in a very unexpected way when my daughter and I walked into a random little church 14 years ago. Hope and change filled my life that day and the person I always wanted to be started coming out of me. The person I knew I always was deep down–I just didn’t know how to tap into her. Things changed quickly and my fairytale started unfolding and to this day is still unfolding.

I am sure not everyone is going to have this ah-ha awakening moment like I did. What I do know is please don’t ignore the whispers, the thoughts, the ideas. Most likely whatever your yearning for is not going to be easy. It was not easy for me to walk into that church that day fearfully shaking. It was not easy for me to break up with my boyfriend of many years. It was not easy to move my daughter from our small town to a new big town and even bigger school. It was not easy to leave the comfort of my family just blocks away from me. It was not easy for me to give up a steady consistent job to give real estate a shot. It was all very bittersweet for me. It was also worth every single hard decision and scary step I had to take. I would do it ALL a million times over again.

The real estate award yesterday was the inspiration to write this today. My hope is that maybe it encourages just one young lady out there reading this. The one that is struggling to believe her life could be anything different than what it currently is. The one that is scared to make some needed changes to her life. The one that may be fearful to dream again. If this is you, can you please hear me when I say I am cheering you on. I do not say that in a passive way, I say it in a very honest, heartfelt and real way. I AM CHEERING YOU ON!!

I am going to end this with the hope and passion of God in my heart for you. If by chance you are the one that keeps hearing the whisper of God. Maybe you don’t even realize it’s God, I didn’t for a long time, you just feel nudges or a consistent urge to change your life, then do it. Maybe walk into that church, if you have to go to a church where you don’t know anyone, then do it. That’s exactly what I did. I didn’t want to know anybody I wanted a fresh start. A new beginning. You won’t be alone HE will meet you there, I promise.

Can I tell you how much God wants you to hear these words today? I am writing this alone in my kitchen this morning with light music in the background. As I am literally praying that just one person will be encouraged over these words the song Beautiful Things by Gungor just came on and the lyrics say it all….and I know they are meant to be in this post. These words are for you and for me…

Beautiful Things:  (I have deleted a few repetitive lines for space)

All this pain

I wonder if I’ll ever find my way

I wonder if my life could really change, at all

All this earth

Could all that is lost ever be found?

Could a garden come out from this ground, at all?

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us

All around,

Hope is springing up from this old ground

Out of chaos life is being found, in you

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us

You make me new,

You are making me new

Ladies I know I specifically wrote this from a soft spot in my heart intended toward young single mommas.  Although my hope and prayer is even those of you that are not in this demographic may be encouraged by these words today as well.  I know these struggles don’t end in our 20’s, here I am at 40 and I still battle some of the same things just in different ways. We all need the encouragement and freedom to dream.

 

 

 

Here is a link to Beautiful Things video.  It’s so good take 5 minutes to listen!

 

 

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Here I Am

Let me start by saying I am already freaked out that you're reading this.....sharing my life, my kids, the real me, talking about Jesus, all my happiness and my hurts with a big blogging world of unseen people is scary. But here I am, writing, sharing, learning and hoping that at least one of you will walk away feeling empowered and braver to be real in your life. Believing you can be you, that you can follow your dreams and trusting there is a real Jesus found in our everyday ordinary lives. Join me on this crazy journey, I have no idea where it's going, I'm going blindly and wildly.....it should be fun!

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