Everything Happens for a Reason

I believe that everything happens for a reason; good or bad. Faith is about trusting and believing when you don't know what those reasons are. Trust me on this. I have lost count of how many times and different situations I have demanded answers as to why this or that happened. I demanded them from the person and from God--but mostly from God. And to be completely honest, I'm currently going through this myself. Instead of dredging up the past and constantly rolling in the 'whys' and 'how comes' and whatnot, refocus your attention. I have a Savior who promises to be there for me at all times and my faith comes from knowing that He will do just that.

I have learned to praise God THROUGH my storms; not wait until the storm has passed. Oh, is it raining on my well planned/thought out parade? Instead of packing everything up, throwing in the towel, and becoming angry, I choose to lift up my arms and my face to the sky. I start by calling out to the One who promises to never leave me nor forsake me. Praising Him in the storms of my life is what I choose to do instead of waiting until the storm has passed. He sees me and he hears me calling. More than that, the Lord has gone before me and is making the crooked path straight. "“I will go before you...and level the mountains. I will smash down gates of bronze and cut through bars of iron. And I will give you treasures hidden in the darkness—secret riches. I will do this so you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, the one who calls you by name." -Isaiah 45:2-3

Life rarely ever ends up the way we planned it to. Thankfully, I have a God whose plans are bigger and better than any thought or idea I could come up with myself. Proverbs 19:21 says, "You can make many plans, but the Lord’s purpose will prevail." I take joy in knowing that my current struggle and hardship won't last forever. I relying on my faith to see me through these temporary trials. 

It's so easy to allow bitterness creep in and take root in your heart, mind and spirit. As for me, I refuse to allow myself to wallow in those hurt feelings. Instead, I know that God is working on my behalf. He has big dreams and hopes for my life; plans for me to prosper and have a bright future (Jeremiah 29:11). 

I write this more as a reminder to myself than for any other reason. Even though I know all of these things, it's easy to lose sight when you're in the midst of a storm. There is such freedom in letting go of hurts and struggles. When you choose to forgive and let go, God shows up and works miracles. As for right now, I choose to shift my focus and think about all of the blessings in my life and wonderful memories I have. It may not always be easy to do, but it will definitely be worth it. "And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise." -Philippians 4:8

I'm looking forward to the next chapter in my life and seeing what God has in store for me. While I still have some sadness from this whole situation I am currently going through, I know that there are happier days ahead of me. Not every day is easy, but I do know that everything will turn out just how it is meant to be someday.

For those who actually read this, thanks for taking the time to do so. And if you would, please keep me in your prayers. It's always good to have fellow believers lifting me up as well. :)

I refuse...

I refuse to let disappointment overshadow my joy.
I refuse to let anxiety and worry dwell in my heart & mind.
I refuse to accept the status quo.
I refuse to turn my back on God when things don't go my way.
I refuse to second guess or question my self-worth.
I refuse to dwell in the past and on past hurts.
I refuse to be knocked down and stay there.
I refuse to be determined by others' opinions.
I refuse to rely on my timing and judgment alone.
I refuse to let my situation determine my attitude.
I refuse to be stagnant.
I refuse to be set back by my setbacks.
I refuse to take on all of my burdens myself.
Most of all, I refuse to give up hope.

From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. - Psalm 61:2

God closes doors for reasons that are not always obvious to me. I trust in Him and know that things really do happen for a reason. I make the decision to move on and look forward to the opportunities that lie ahead.

I may be disappointed and discouraged, but I know that God is there with my every step of the way; through the good times and hard struggles. I'm reminded that this is not the end of my story, but rather just an end to a chapter in my book of life.

"To live your best life now, you must learn to trust God's timing, you may not think He's working, but you can be sure that right now, behind the scenes, God is arranging all the pieces to come together to work out His plan for your life." - Joel Osteen

Part 2: Letting Go and Letting God: My Personal Quest to Finding Peace and Closure

In June, it will be two years since I wrote a blog regarding my issues surrounding the hurt, pain, disappointment, and resentment towards my dad. I vowed to let go of my anger and choose forgiveness over resentment. I feel like now is the time to give an update as to where I’m at with all of that. Check out the initial blog I wrote regarding my “daddy issues” here: http://bethiej.blogspot.com/2012/02/letting-go-and-letting-god-my-personal.html

Early last year, I decided to finally stop being the one to pursue the relationship with my dad. I always called, always was the one who kept in contact. I was curious as to what might happen when I chose not to do so. It was no surprise to me when it was over four months before he even called me, and even then I decided to not take the call. Another few months went by before he called again. Again, I decided to ignore it.

Fast forward to summer of 2011. My dad’s wife calls and leaves a very vague voicemail that went something like this: “Beth, this is Donna [insert pause], your stepmom...please call me.” First of all, let me be sarcastic for a moment. Donna, my stepmom? Hmm…could you give me more information? That doesn’t ring a bell. Oh, I know who you are now. You’re the one who refers to yourself as my wicked stepmother, aka “wsm.” She never calls me. In fact, that might have been the first time in the 13+ years she and my dad have been together that she has called me. I have no desire to talk to her, much less my dad so I ignored the call.

A week later, I get a message from my sister saying that she needs to talk to me about our dad and that it was very important. Well, for those of you who don’t know, I’m not really close with my sister. She has made so many bad choices that hurt her boys and her family (and continues to do so) and she continues to want our dad’s love, affection, and attention at any cost. To say we’re polar opposites is an understatement. Anyway, that’s another story for another day. Later in the day I find out that, according to my sister, my dad is in the hospital and has been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer in his small intestine. Now, if you’re diagnosed with stage 4 cancer that means you’re at the end and that it has spread to the point where it’s incurable. So, I call my dad’s wife (I still refuse to refer to her as my stepmom) and she tells me the same thing with a few more details. According to her, the doctors were taking him into surgery that night to take out part of his small intestine.. Then, all of the sudden, my sister says it’s “touch and go” and that he’s practically on his death bed. She rushes off to be at his side.

WSM later updated me and said the doctors said they thought they got it all and things were looking up. He’d need a few months of chemotherapy and should then pretty much have a clean bill of health. Come to find out, my dad never really was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Sure, he may have had cancer in his small intestine, and did have some of it taken out (I’m supposing), but it was WSM who “diagnosed” the stage 4 herself. In fact, he was not on his death bed. She continually fed us all with these bogus statements. Why would she want to make the situation bigger and more horrid than it really was? You got me...

Since the surgery, my dad had several complications such as blood clots and infection. Well, we went home after the surgery to basically lay down and die. Instead of being thankful that he had another chance at life, he sulked and moped around. He needed everyone to feel sorry for him. He spent many months in and out of the hospital for various issues because he wasn't taking care of himself.

A few months after the surgery, my sister moved with her boys because she just had to be there to help dad out. Again, for those who don’t know the whole story, my sister practically let her boys live with my mom and stepdad. Those boys spent at least 5 of 7 nights a week at my parent’s house. Collectively, we all stepped up to be “parents” to those boys in different ways to help buffer the fact that their own mom wasn’t interested in being the best parent. This was their home and my sister ripped them from what they knew for very selfish reasons. In fact, she only wanted to be a parent when it was convenient for her or when she got something out of it. Hmm, sound familiar?!

Back to the story. I still hadn’t talked to my dad in many months, even after the surgery. The weekend we were taking the boys on a camping trip before taking them to Ft. Worth and leaving them there (hardest day of my life!), WSM shows up at our house. She enlists 4 year old Clay to entice me to come outside. First of all, I was busy trying to gather things together for our camping trip, and secondly, I had nothing to say to her. It wasn’t until she stuck her head in the door and yelled out my name that I finally came outside to face her. I knew this was the time that I needed to stand up and be strong…to be honest and say what I was feeling. Now, I go outside and am greeted with a hug. Before you think that’s sweet, let me just say that I’ve never hugged WSM, ever. She’s not that type of person. And the hug was not a warm, friendly hug. It was her trying to show her dominance by squeezing me very, very tight. I stood there limp, not lifting an arm to hug her. She continues to basically get to the point of why I haven’t talked to my dad. After telling her that it was none of her business and was between my dad and I, she wouldn’t let up. I told her several times that I would contact HIM directly when I was ready to talk to him. She then tried to put a guilt trip on me and basically said, “So, if your dad doesn’t get to come out of the hospital, you have nothing to say to him? Are you sure you won’t regret not saying something to him if he doesn’t make it out alive?” Are you kidding me?! I finally just laughed it off and told her that she could think whatever she wanted to and that I was done talking. It felt so freeing to finally speak my mind and stand up. I wasn’t mean, I was just straight forward and honest.

Fast forward to November. My mom, stepdad, and I went to Thanksgiving in Ft. Worth. To say it was awkward to all be in the same house at the same time is an understatement. However, I had some hope (come to find out it was false hope) that my dad may have really been turning his life around. I thought he was realizing that he was given a second chance and was going to make some changes.

We then spent two weeks at Christmas in Ft. Worth (including my mom, stepdad, brother, and his girlfriend who’s like my sister). While I wasn’t fully convinced my dad had changed, I was open to seeing what would happen. It seemed like he was really wanting to do the right thing and all. Turns out, it was all a crock. He once again let me down and I was left disappointed. I was so mad at him, but more upset with myself that I’d even open myself up to all that again. I felt like I took so many steps back from where I had been. I let my guard down only to be hurt by him again. He wasn’t turning around or changing for the better. He was still the same dad who never had my best interest at heart and let me down time and time again throughout my life. I don’t know which hurt more: realizing the first time that my dad was a selfish person and lived his life for himself alone, or opening up and being vulnerable a second time and ultimately being let down.

I feel like I’ve had to start completely over with truly letting go. It’s much, much harder this time. I have more anger, more resentment, and more hurt. I know that none of those feelings benefit me, nor do they hinder my dad in any way. They do, in fact, only become obstacles in my life that burden me from becoming the person God intended for me to be. Those things I know, I truly do. However, it’s one thing to know them and another thing to get past them, overcome them. That’s where I feel like I’m stuck. So bad, I want to just truly let it all go and start the new chapter in my life. It seems like with every step I take to try to do so, I’m afflicted with something else that prevents me from moving past all this. I know that I can’t have a healthy relationship with any guy until I deal with this, much less a marriage and family. It’s unfair to get involved with someone when I’m unable to truly be emotionally healthy.

I have decided to write my dad a letter to fully express my feelings, not to get answers. It's a step in the direction of healing, but I don't know how he'll even take it or if he will even care.

As you can see, I’m a pretty open person. I do find that writing out my innermost feelings and dealings helps to sort things out for me and eventually leads to healing. I know this isn’t the end of my story, but it’s really hard to see past this right now. Your input, advice, and prayers are all welcomed.

Letting Go and Letting God: My Personal Quest to Finding Peace and Closure

for·give·ness
–noun
1. act of forgiving; state of being forgiven.
2. disposition or willingness to forgive.

Forgiveness usually comes quite easy for me. I'm not one to hold a grudge or keep anger towards a person. In fact, I tend to forgive rather quickly and move on. I don't like someone to be mad or hurt towards me and don't want to feel that way towards others.

The other night I got to thinking about things, as I usually do before bed. Instead of turning off, my mind seems to race a million miles an hour, circulating with an abundance of thoughts, ideas, wonders, and sometimes worries. I suppose it had to do with a talk I had with my mom regarding a certain person in my life, but as I lay there in bed I suddenly had the title for my blog (which is what even got me thinking about writing one). From then on, I knew it was something I needed to address.

Okay, so I'll start from the beginning. I'm the youngest of three kids. My parents divorced when I was 12. I can't say I was shocked, nor was I particularly upset. In fact, I can remember thinking that maybe my dad would finally be around and want to be a part of my life. I had this secret hope inside of me that my dad would miss me and my siblings and would finally step up and be a father.

Growing up, he was never really around much. When he was around, he wasn't the most pleasant person to be with. I was ashamed to be his daughter when he would get kicked out of my basketball games for yelling or arguing. Looking back, I can't even recall many good times shared with him, much less many birthdays, get togethers, or family events where he was even around.

You see, I've harbored these feelings for a very long time. Too long! I've always wondered why he didn't want to be there. Why didn't he want to be a dad to three kids who longed for his presence? Why couldn't he want to want us and not make us beg for him to be around? I remember asking my mom why Daddy didn't want to do things with me, but would take this other kid out to have fun that wasn't even his own kid. Come to find out, this kid belonged to one of the many "other women" my dad saw. So why would he play family with a group of people he has no relation to and want hardly anything to do with his own kids?

During my high school years, my dad moved away to Texas with a woman he'd been living with for years. To me, that was choosing her over me. He chose to make her his family. This "WSM" (I'll explain it in a minute) never liked any of us kids. In fact, she made it quite clear that she did not want much to do with us and didn't even like kids. She expressed to me many times how she never wanted to have kids and basically how she was just putting up with us. So, I call her "WSM" because that is how she used to sign our cards (that is, when we got cards). It was finally clear that "WSM" stood for Wicked Stepmother. While I would say the word "wicked" pretty much sums her up, the word "mother" has no place used in any way to explain her. First of all, they weren't even married, and secondly, she never gave us the chance to get to know her.

For all these years I've shoved all of these feelings and thoughts deep down because I didn't want to deal with it. I feel like I deserve an answer to all my lingering questions. I've never talked about this with my dad because I'm not sure how to even bring it up. But, I've come to the conclusion that I need closure, not for his sake, but for mine...for my own well-being. I need to forgive him, even though he's never once apologized or expressed remorse or regret for any of his actions. He continues to make promises to me that he never seems to be able to keep.

To sum it all up, I decided to keep a journal of sorts to pen my journey to let go of the hurt and anger towards my father and once and for all give it all completely to God. It doesn't hurt my dad that I keep these resentment feelings towards him, but, in fact, only hinders myself from growing into the person I was made to be. I want to be all that I can be and do all that I can do and for that to happen I need to let go and let God. I know it won't happen overnight, but I'm making it my top goal to work on dealing with the pain, anger, and resentment. Writing has always seemed to be a big part of helping me come to terms with other issues in my life, so that's why I felt the need to put it out there. I'll write more along the way until I've finally come to a place in my life where I can say "it's in the past and staying in the past."


Only God gives inward peace, and I depend on Him. God alone is the mighty rock that keeps me safe, and he is the fortress where I feel secure. God saves me and honors me. He is that mighty rock where I find safety. -Psalm 62:5-7

Oh be careful little mouth what you say...

I began writing this blog several weeks ago. Since that time, I lost a dear friend and mentor who was always so upbeat and positive. She was a great encourager and I will miss her more than I could ever put to words. Donna Royer, this blog is dedicated to you.

How many times have you been in a situation where someone gives you a meaningful compliment and instead of accepting it, you begin to cut yourself down to size, so to speak?



I'll be first in line with both my hands raised to admit that I've struggled with accepting flattery. Instead, my tendency has sometimes been to berate myself by combating everything that was just said about me. The real reason behind not allowing myself to take in the praise is because I'm not always sure of myself.


It seems like some women have this little chip inside their brain that won't allow them to accept genuine adulation for fear of failure of some sorts. Thing is, words hold so much power; more than you may even realize. When you constantly put yourself down, you're putting those negative words out there, circulating around you; to the point where it's impossible to succeed in any part of your life. Every inclination of absoluteness is immediately shot down by a combative mindset.


"Oh be careful little mouth what you say..." This childhood song is so true. We should be so very careful what we say. Our words not only have the ability to hurt ourselves, but also others; directly and indirectly. I'm not just talking about using words that put others down. I'm talking about those around you who hear you demean yourself; it can quite easily become contagious.

Our words can change our God-given destiny. It's true. God has only given us good things to help us succeed. And when we decide to instead focus on derogatory comments about ourselves, we can stop God's best plan from coming to pass. Wow, think about it. We hold the power to choose where our focus is and our inability to steer it in the right direction can hinder us from achieving what we are capable of.

Pay close attention to what you say about yourself, for it says a lot about where you are. Instead of looking in the mirror and picking apart every flaw, try focusing on the greatness you possess (yes, everyone possesses greatness). I dare you to try this. I'm going to be right there with you doing the same thing. Try pointing out the talent and beauty God has given you. If you change your words, you just might change your entire world!

In memory of Donna Royer; a wonderful friend, mentor, and mother who chose to see the best in everyone and could turn any negative situation into a positive, uplifting experience. She will be missed more than she'll know, but I'm going to choose to take on her upbeat and authentic attitude and see life as a great challenge with endless opportunities.