2009 in the rearview!

Before we go any further: the Mixed and Happy project was a success and I hope that Keith Bardwell's heart has been softened. Here are some things to keep in mind about Mixed and Happy as we move forward -- since we are moving forward!

-- BLOG: I have decided to keep blogging about life as a mom in a mixed-race family. You know, it's really not about race, right? It's about family and love. I'll be right here three times a week with new posts.

-- ME: Before I jumped into it, I needed you to get a real glimpse into my life. Thus, the post below. If I offend anyone for being real, I'm sorry, but it can't be any other way. I don't write to maintain an audience. I write to tell the lessons that life is teaching me along the way.

-- FACEBOOK PAGE: Mixed and Happy has an amazing facebook group, and it is growing daily. Please join us. I am currently adding Officers to the page. Email me (mixedandhappy at gmail dot com) if interested.


2009 was a beast -- not a blast with fireworks and confetti, but a beast with fangs and a roar. 2009 stood at my doorstep and threatened to destroy me. Today, it sits just inches behind the worst year of my life, which was 2005, the year my little sister quietly slipped away from my life forever.

There was nothing quiet, though, about 2009. It was a year of betrayal on many sides. I wrestled with 2009 almost daily, and he almost won. After the death of my sister in 2005, I grew angry and the unforgiveness of so many people in my life seeped deep into my soul until there was this wall.

That wall allowed me to sit in a counselor's office one Saturday afternoon in April and agree to a divorce. "You are so angry," the woman said. "It might be best for the children." Thanks to the wall, I felt nothing. Instead, I thought it might be better if someone else was feeling the pain -- instead of me.

But something changed in April as my husband, desperate for answers, took one tiny step of faith. He didn't realize it at the time, but that one little step would completely turn the ship in another direction. Actually, that tiny step was like a tiny life-jacket in a giant, chaotic ocean. Though small, its job was magnificent.

Hubby saved me when he could have left me in the midst of an emotional storm. But, he refused to leave. He refused to let the family disintegrate. He became my anchor. I looked to him and realized that while he was acting as my anchor, he too had an anchor. God was his anchor.

I woke up one night, right around 3 a.m., and I heard him crying out. A grown man pleading, begging, praying. He was asking God for answers, for guidance. While I had been sleeping, he had been praying. While I had been crying, he had been praying. While I had been fighting, he had been praying. And so, realizing that he was my anchor, I followed, eventually clinging to my safe place.

It took about four years to almost lose everything, but I made it through the fire. And unbelievably, I can sit here with love in my home, peace in my heart and faith in my life because of it all. Amazing how things work out. Had I walked away, the Mixed and Happy project would have never been a thought in my mind.

I hopped on here tonight to talk about my fast. (Today happens to be day 1 of 21.) But, I know when I am supposed to write something. By this point in my life, I don't write the stories. I simply tell the stories that need to be told for whatever reason. If I don't, they weigh on me until I set them free.

It's so easy, sometimes, to hide behind a mask. But, I write the stories of my life. Please understand that when you come here, you are going to get a glimpse of my life. And today, on Jan. 3, 2010, my life is about being honest about the pieces that have connected to make this colorful, Mixed and Happy puzzle.

Join me if you will. On Wednesday, I'll show you where hubby and I found that candy cane that the baby lost on our ride home tonight. Let's just say there were tears. Oh, it's going to be (mostly) fun.