The Journey

Lao Tzu once said, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." That's really what life is: a journey. A long, winding, up and down journey. But what an amazing journey it is.....

I was all comfortably curled up and reading this morning when I glanced up at my laptop who was also comfortably playing through my iTunes list for me. My photoshow screensaver had kicked in and multiple picture were making their trek across my little Vaio's screen. I kinda became focused on watching the show, smiling at some pictures, laughing at others, and rolling my eyes at a few. Pictures flashed up of college road trips to Mississippi and New Orleans, best friends' weddings by the beach, campaign trips to Denver, boat rides in Thailand, meeting senators in DC, famous Kerychuk family breakfasts, holding friends' new babies, cap and gown pictures from Graduation, meeting Wish families in Orlando, my Extreme Pink missions team to Mercy, BFF hugs in front of the castle at Disneyland, old loves, friends near and friends afar, and the dearest family ever. And it kinda hit me what an amazing journey life has taken me on so far.

I forget that sometimes. When I'm waiting for answers, and getting impatient, I forget how many lessons, truths, and blessings each step of the journey has brought me. Life isn't an easy journey. I get that sometimes it includes hard uphill climbs were you are holding on to the edge of the mountain, barely hanging on. But we also reach the top of that mountain and view the meadows, lakes, flowers and sky that we've been hoping for, praying for. We breath in the peace, and suddenly that climb seems worth every effort, every step of the journey.

So take your journey one step at a time. Enjoy each step. Your journey is like no other. You'll see a view no one else gets to see. And catch how beautiful that really is.

Peace and love everyone.

Becoming Tammy...

I should known it was going to be a hard day. I had already been tossing and turning for 2 hours when my alarm went off at 5 AM, and as I was getting ready there was was tiny strand of hair that refused to be tamed, and the summerish outfit I picked out was useless when I got into my car and read "ICY 32'F." Good times.

Tammy Kerychuk, Substitute Teacher. That's what my name was today. I won't lie: when I left the house this morning I was slightly nervous but excited. I thought of some of my favorite heroines like Anne Shirley and Laura Ingalls braving their way into a classroom hoping to expand minds and create future leaders. I was going to try and do no less! By the end of the day, these 6th graders were going to benefit from my passion for their education!

Right.

Perhaps it's the blond curls, high heels or giant Chanel glasses, but I'll admit that sometimes when I walk into a new location, there is a certain aura about me. It's like a sign is attached to me stating exactly who I am. For example, when I walk into Home Depot and blankly stare about me, my sign must say "LOST." Thankfully, the nice men in orange aprons take pity on me and are kind enough to help. Or, when I walk into a car repair shop, my sign definitely reads "NAIVE" because I end up walking out with a $400 bill when all my car needed was an oil change. Well today, when I walked into the classroom, my sign absolutely read "PUSH OVER." Because that's exactly how they treated me.

I know I'm a little meak sometimes, but I try and count it as being soft, kind, sweet, sensitive, etc. etc. But sweet and sensitive doesn't cut it with 30 6th-graders who don't give a care that you are there to help them learn. They were just excited that their teacher was gone for the day and they could try to get away with whatever.

And boy, did they ever!

No matter how many times I asked, or how I asked, or how I begged, these kids would NOT be quiet. Not in the least. All day, every 20 seconds, I was like "Okay, quiet! No seriously, quiet! You guys, you guys: Quiet!!!!" Nothing worked. Even the seasoned teacher next door looked at me like "well you lost them."

After 8 very long hours, I finally lined them up for buses and walked them out feeling dejected. I was heartbroken. I wanted to feel like I made a difference in their lives, and as swept up the room and straightened some desks, I realized they must have seen me as simply the mean substitute who kept saying "Shh! Quiet!" all day. I felt my role there had no purpose.

As soon as I left the school, I drove straight up to my church where I could get some peace and pray. I was writing in my journal when this phrase just came to my heart out of nowhere, "Perhaps everything you are looking for, you already have." I kinda stopped, sat back and ponder that thought. I went through my day today telling myself everything I was not. And how I failed at being everything I was not. I definitely am the type to wander and travel in search for who I might be someday. But I'm coming to learn that I've been searching outside myself more than seeing who I already am. Although I think "The Wizard of Oz" is one of the scariest movies ever, there is a line I love in it. It's when Dorthy is wondering how to get home to Kansas now that the Wizard is gone, and Glenda the Good Witch points at the ruby slippers and says, "You've always had the power, my dear. You've had it all along."

I'm coming to the place in life where I'm finally like "you know what, this is me, and that's okay." It's amazing how much more confident you become once you can accept that! And, I will say, I'm great with being sweet and sensitive. I actually kinda like that I am. I've learned today that teaching 6th-grade isn't my forte. But that's okay. It just means that's one more thing I got to experience in life. Teaching elementary school can now be crossed off my list. I might not be Laura or Anne, but at least I tried.

You know, it was a hard day. But I learned a lot about myself. And I'm about to curl up in bed with "The Office" and Pei Wei; two of my favs. You know, overall, today might not be as bad as I thought.

Peace and love everyone.

The Simple Things

I'm a California girl. I really am. I know I've been somewhat back in Phoenix for 5 months now, but at heart, I'm a California girl. I like tanning and tofu, date shakes and Disney, palm trees and Pinkberry, blonde highlights and every color flip-flops. But what I love most about California is the beach. I lived a mile and a half from Huntington Beach. Literally step outside my door, walk a few minutes, and you're in the surf. I never knew how much I could miss that.

Seeing as it had been way too many months since I had seen California, the beach and my friends, I decided to spend a long weekend in Orange County this past weekend. There was a church I wanted to visit there (Free Chapel OC) so it seemed like a perfect weekend to go and fit in as much as I could into my schedule. So I got to hug some of my best friends, eat tofu at the best Vegan restaurant ever, ran by Disneyland to see some pirates, and even got in a little shopping at South Coast Plaza. Sunday afternoon, before church, I went to my friend Mark's nephew's birthday party (catch that?) in the hills. It was just a bunch of cute kids playing in an adorable neighborhood as their parents sat laughing and munching on food. Babies were passed around. Guitar Hero was discussed. And iPhones were examined. All on a perfect cloudless day as palm trees swayed in the breeze. Everything felt peaceful and calm. Like this is how everyday life should be.

I left a little later to head to church, and seeing as I had about 30 minutes till the service I took the "long way" up Pacific Coast Highway starting in Laguna Beach and working my way up to Corna Del Mar. The sun was just starting to set when I hit the PCH in Laguna and the contrast on the picture in front of me, an orange sky, purple waves, and black shadows of people walking on the sand, seemed like right out of a movie. I hung a right unto the PCH and winded up the hill and around the corner. The jagged hills broke off in the water and the purple waves rolled unto the crest. It was breathtaking. We all know that I am a sensitive person, but literally tears formed in my eyes at the beauty in front of me. It felt like a gift to see the vastness of the ocean slowly falling unto the shore. I was grateful I had those few minutes to remember how amazingly complex our world is and yet God holds it all in His hands. My life is not figured out right now, but it doesn't matter. God knows it all. That's all I need.

My old roommate and friend Rachel called me the other day and left me the cutest message. She said, "I am making coffee right now and thinking of you. I know how much you love coffee. You have a way of making small things like that special." I smiled when I heard it and saved it. I heart my friend. I was thinking about her words and realized how true they were. I love a big surprise or announcement, but it is the small things in life that count. A baby's laugh. A parent's hug. A good book and a cup of tea. A friend who will hold your hand when you cry and not say a word. A funny text message. These are all things to be valued and treasured; they are what life is made of. The million little things will far outweigh the few big things in the end.

So tomorrow, when it seems like life has got you down, look for the small things you can put in your box and be grateful for them. It might not be tofu or flip-flops, but you know what they are. And make the simple things special.

Heritage

We just heard that my Grandpa Kerychuk is back in the hospital again. It's not even so much that he is sick, but rather, he is just getting old. His body is failing him. So tonight he sits in some uncomfortable ER bed getting poked and prodded as they find ways to treat the symptoms. And I wish I was there to hug him, hold his hand and tell him one more time I love him. Chances are I won't have the opportunity to tell him that again face to face. But I am sure he knows how proud I am to be his granddaughter. I pray he remembers that tonight.

I can't think of one time my grandpa was upset with me. Not one. I just remember him smiling and singing to us. Even though he has lived in Canada and the United States for many years, he still has a heavy Ukrainian accent. From when I was a little girl to in college he would say in a sing-song voice, "Tam-my! Where are yo-ou?! I can hear you, but I can't see yo-ou!" And even though I would be standing right next to him, and knew he could see me, I would still giggle and go run into his room so he would say it again. In his room was a collection of horse figurines. I don't know why since he had not owned one since a young man, but he loves horses. He would watch shows about them with my sister and I. I think Tara and I learned to love horses so much ourselves because of his interest. I also will always remember him sitting on the couch watching "Wheel of Fortune" and "Jeopardy." He never missed a show, and he was very good at guessing the answers. When I was about 12, we lived just a few apartments down from my grandparents. Sometimes my grandpa would pick us up after school if my parents were working and take us home where my grandma already had dinner ready…. At 3:30 PM! Tara and I would kinda stare at each other, than dig into the Ukrainian feast in front of us. No sense good cabbage rolls or perogies going to waste!

I was blessed because I got to spend time with my grandpa when he was retired. My dad, on the other hand, did not have much time with his father while growing up. My grandpa worked full-time and was a pastor. His schedule was very full. My dad used to complain and my grandpa would say, "It is a joy to serve son." My parents taught me servanthood, but only because my grandparents passed it on to them. The last time I spoke with my grandpa was about a month ago. He sounded very old and frail. He said to me, "Tammy, I know times have been tough but keeping looking Up. If you look down, you will fall. Keep your eyes on Jesus." I started to cry when he said that because I know what hardships my own family had to endure. And I've seen them overcome. I have a great heritage to rely on.

When he was still in the old country, my Great-Grandpa Hyrcyk was strapped to a cannon, blindfolded and told to renounce his faith in Christ. He refused. A Russian general fired a gunshot into the air and told my great-grandpa they had shot one of his family members and would keep killing them until he renounced his faith. Shot after shot my great-grandpa refused. They finally let him go, beat him up, and walked away. Thankfully no one was killed. Years later, my great-grandpa was preaching at a revival in Alberta, Canada. That same Russian general had come to the meeting, recognized my great-grandpa, and rushed to the alter to accept Christ. My great-grandpa's faith was astounding, awing even. Talk about a tremendous heritage.

I love my Grandpa Kerychuk with all my heart. And I will miss him when he is gone. However, I am so grateful for the lessons I learned from him. The truth he taught me through his words and through his life. He has raised 3 kids who are all in ministry, and now his grandkids are stepping forward into their heritage as well. And I pray when he is finally at peace, he will know the work he started will be continued on.