No Camping Zone

Anyone who knows me well knows that I’m not a big fan of camping. It’s not that camping is a bad or evil activity it’s just that it’s done outdoors. I’ve always felt that the “great outdoors” was overrated. Whether you’re on a beach (where it’s hot, sandy and your skin can burn to a crisp) or in the woods (where most horror movies take place).

Fresh air and beautiful view, unfortunately, comes with wild animals, mosquitos and lots of walking up and down mountains. I understand that many people love that kind of thing, but not this girl. Sleeping in tents on the ground when at any moment a bear can come tearing through the tent to eat me . . . yeah, that sounds like a great time. My idea of “roughing” it is no room service.

Call me crazy, but I’m a big fan of indoor plumbing. There is nothing like the sweet sound of water rushing through pipes. Technology rocks! Wi-Fi, electricity, warm comfortable bed, showers, kitchen appliances and my laptop are all the comforts that I enjoy. So I’m spoiled. I’m okay with that.

A friend of mine recently posted the above cartoon. It suits me perfectly – If “camping” means my hotel room faces the woods, then yeah, I’ll go camping.

The only exception I made was when I went to “Burning Man.” That was a special situation.

When my thoughts turn to camping, I think about John 15:4 - "Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me." My husband, Tom, says that camping is the opposite of "abide" which means to set up permanent residence. I guess I'm a permanent residence kind of gal.

All you out there, who are big fans of camping, don’t get angry with me. I’ve tried camping and it just wasn’t for me, but the rest of you have at it. As for me, it’s a – No Camping Zone.

© Nadine Zawacki 2016

Love the Forgotten Verb

A verb is defined as a word used to describe an action, state, or occurrence. I’m going to touch on the part of the verb that is described as an action. Love in action is amazing. There are different types of love that exist but nothing is more powerful than when love is in action.

I’m the first to admit that I’m not always great at love in the form of action. I find I love better when God is involved. Love never fails. What fails every time is hate, betrayal, criticism, gossip and judgment. I have been guilty of every one of those things in my life I’m sorry to say, but my heart has slowly changed through the years. Am I perfect at this? By all means – no, but I’m better at it than I used to be.

Words have such power in them, especially when being spoken to others. Hateful words spread like cancer and kill everything in its wake. I know because I’ve been guilty of that.

I learned this lesson during the time we lived in West Virginia. Tom and I and a few of the people from our church went to a conference. It was at this conference that I felt the conviction my hateful words towards others. I felt that God wanted me to apologize to four people that I had spoken bad things about behind their backs. The first person was at this conference with us, so I went to her and apologized. When we returned home I called the next person on the list and apologized to her. The next two were a couple and as I started to dial their number, I stopped cold. I felt the conviction of God again and this time, I heard a still small voice . . . I had spoken very badly about these two behind their backs and God wanted me to apologize to their face. I had sworn that I would never have these two people in my house so God wanted me to invite them over. After about an hour of deep prayer, I called. They were not far from my house and said that they can come right now. It was the hardest thing I ever done, but I did it. I could tell by their faces that it touched them deeply. A weight lifted from my heart. I never wanted to do that again.

Love is a powerful tool. Light and darkness cannot exist at the same time neither can love and hate. It’s easy to hate or dislike or judge someone. It’s harder to love them.

Forgive me God for the times I choose to hate rather than love. Help to love more in action and talk less with my words.

This is just a portion of what I’ve learned lately it’s not the complete story of love.

© Nadine Zawacki, 2016

My Mind vs. My Heart

My mom recently passed away. She was ninety years old, had Alzheimer’s, a bad heart and diabetes. My mind knew that I could get a call at anytime that she was gone. She developed a brain bleed and the doctor told us that she would not recover. I discussed it with my family and the best thing to do was to wait here in Canada. It’s about a fifteen-hour drive and we didn’t know how long it would take. So I waited. My mind prepared.

My heart betrayed me. When I got the call, I wept. I felt overwhelmed. Since that time I had moments when I would cry out of the blue. I could be fine one minute and the next I’m hysterical. I’m not a crier. I especially don’t like to do that in public. Both my children flew in from the West Coast for the funeral. They were such a huge comfort to me. Tom has been my rock. I don’t know what I would do without them.

It doesn’t matter how old you are or how much your mind is prepared for such an event the heart takes control. I’m grateful for family and friends who have expressed love in many ways. It’s been priceless to me. I know in time, it gets better, at least, that’s what my mind tells me.

I choose to remember the good times. She was a great lady. She was kind, considerate and a compassionate woman. She was a talented seamstress who made my daughter and me so many beautiful clothes. Funny thing was I didn’t ask her to make a new dress; she would simply take my measurements and make me the latest style. I loved her laugh. Thanks to my kids who taped a visit with her five years ago, I have her laughter recorded and can watch our interaction with her when I miss her. She loved to feed people (I guess that’s where I get it from) and always made you feel at home.

Thank you, Lord, for giving me such a loving mom. I know she’s with you now and one day we’ll be together again. I love my Mom and will hold her dearly in both my mind and my heart.

© Nadine Zawacki 2016

Decisions

I was thinking the other day about forgiveness. I realized for me forgiveness is not a question of “if.” Of course, I will forgive the person who hurt me. The decision about forgiveness was already made in my mind. The “if” is a given but the “when” or “how often” has the question mark attached.

There are times and situations forgiveness comes quickly. Other times not so much. The deeper the wound the longer it takes to come that conclusion for me. I find it especially hard to forgive when it happens to Tom or my kids. I want to forgive that person for the hurt, but when I watch the outcome of their hurt in someone that means the world to me, it’s not easy. 

I’ve learned to make a point of forgiving people because it’s not for their benefit that I forgive; it’s for my benefit – my spiritual, emotional and physical benefit. It takes too much out of me to stay angry. Anyone can have a bad day. They can say something they don’t mean or say it in a way that’s harsh or disrespectful. I get that. They may never ask for me to forgive them, but that’s not the point of forgiveness. It doesn’t require action from them – because let’s face it sometimes that’s just never going to happen.

It requires action from me, for me, to benefit me. So today, I choose to forgive, which doesn’t mean I trust that person or persons, but I forgive them. (I’m not saying here that to forgive someone means you stay in a relationship with them. Some relationships are toxic.)

There is freedom in forgiveness for me. It helps me to move forward instead of being tied to something in the past that can hold me back. Forgiveness is a process, but the first step is a decision, at least for me.

© Nadine Zawacki 2015

34th Wedding Anniversary

Today is my 34^th wedding anniversary. I have the privilege to be married to my best friend. Tom is a kind man who makes me a better person. He is loving, kind hearted and a wonderful husband and father.

Today, I celebrate you, Tom. I thank you for your love and patience. For your goodness and kindness. For the adventures we faced. For the quiet times and for the excitement life brought us. For the joys and the sadness. For the good times and the bad. For through it all, you were there.

If I had a chance to go back in time, I would marry you again knowing all that I know. Thank you for loving me. You’re a good man and I’m glad you’re mine. I love you with my whole heart. Happy Anniversary.

© Nadine Zawacki 2015

Cinderella

As a child, I loved the story of Cinderella. Let’s be honest, I still love the story of Cinderella. I mean what’s not to love; evil stepmother and stepsisters, fairy godmother, pumpkin carriage, beautiful gown and glass slippers. I think I’ve seen every version of the story. The latest one had so many great quotes that made me think. A couple of my favorites:

       Cinderella about her stepfamily:They treat me as well as they are able.

       Cinderella to the prince:Just because it’s what’s done, doesn’t mean it’s what should be done.

I loved the one about her stepfamily; “They treat me as well as they are able.” – wow. It dawned on me that when someone treats someone badly maybe it’s not because they are evil, maybe it’s because it’s as well as they are able. What a way to look at cruel behavior. It doesn’t excuse cruelty. I found I’m not responsible for how people treat me, but I’m responsible for how I react to them.

The other quote, “Just because it’s what’s done, doesn’t mean it’s what should be done.” – another wow. How often do I find myself doing something because it’s what’s done, instead of choosing not to do it because it shouldn’t be?

I love when I watch a simple movie that speaks to me in ways I hadn’t expected. As a little girl I wanted to be Cinderella, but not anymore. I’ve found my prince. Now, I just want to be the fairy godmother because she helps Cinderella to find her prince.

© Nadine Zawacki 2015

Just in Time for Summer . . .

Just in time for summer, I finished a crochet blanket for my king size bed that I’ve worked on for a good part of a year.  It matches my comforter set. To be honest I thought I wouldn’t see it completed. I started to wonder if one day my great, great, granddaughter would feel sorry for her ancestor who couldn’t finish a crochet blanket and it was up to her to bring back honor to the family name by finally completing what great, great grandma couldn’t. Here's a close up look at it.

As I worked on the blanket, it taught me a few things. Sometimes I needed to take a break from it. My hand would hurt or my old eyes got weary. If I took too long of a break, then it was hard to get back in the grove of things, but just enough of a break rejuvenated me. If I just gave up, it would still be there to mock me. I’m glad I never gave up.

I found that I sometimes need to take a break in life also. There had been time, it got too crazy and my mind started to hurt. I felt guilty if I took the day off and “goofed off.” Mental health days are important for my well being. Just like the blanket it helped to stop when I needed a break to rejuvenate.

Thank you Lord for teaching me to stop, relax and recharge. Thank you for making it better and helping me to see clearer.

© Nadine Zawacki 2015

My Brother

On our visit to New York, we stopped by to see my brother, Frantz and his wife Nancy. I love my brother who is ten years older than me. Growing up, he would try to scare me all the time on one hand and on the other he would also protect me. Another memory I have was how he would charge me for everything. For example, if I got a message he would say, "Give me a dollar." I never paid him, but I have a whopper of a tab going. Even at our age as I was putting on my make-up, he snuck up behind me and made a barking sound. At my age that could be dangerous.

We always have a good time when we are together.

When we left Haiti, I was only two years old so I don't remember life there, but my brother does. We were about to have dinner when he mentioned my mother sewing wedding dress business in the home. I said, "Mom never had a business in the house." I then came to realized that happened before I was born. From that point on I made him spill information about growing up in Haiti. I couldn't get enough. We had such a wonderful time listening to stories I've never heard of before.

Frantz remembered that he had my dad's sketch book. Our father died twenty six years ago. My dad  was an architect among the many other things he did for a living. The sketch book was from the time he was in school. (Sketch pictured below).

The details were hard to capture in a photo. My brother and his lovely wife could see how much I enjoyed the sketch book. He gifted me the sketch book. It was priceless. I cried and I don't usually do that often. My heart was so full after this visit. I love you brother. Thank you.

© Nadine Zawacki 2015

Gotta Love YouTube

I’ve crocheted in the past but it was so long ago I forgot how. Back then I winged it as I went along with some basic stitches I learned from someone or someplace. I made some blankets for the kids and my hubby.

Fast forward to the present. A friend at church was making baby blankets for needy families and I thought that was an awesome idea. So she helped me get started on a blanket. We laughed more than I paid attention to anything. My blanket sides started to be wobbly. I should have paid closer attention. In need of help, I turned to YouTube. 

I love YouTube. Not only did I learn how to crochet a baby blanket but I’ve also made some booties. The blanket (pictured above) and booties (pictured below) are for one of my daughter’s friends who's expecting a baby. 

So if you need to learn how to do anything – hop over to YouTube and type in your “how to” question.

Nadine Zawacki © 2103 

Day 18

I’ve been juicing for the past 18 days. I’ve lost 23.4 lbs thus far. Has it been hard? Unbelievably hard! It’s a daily battle that some days I do well and others I would cut you for a piece of steak.

Several days ago I hit a wall. I couldn’t think of anything but food. It was on my mind every moment of the day. I thought I would go crazy. I found the more I thought about it the more I wanted it. If it weren’t for Tom (my hero) I would have crashed and burned. I needed help to make it through. Sometimes I just need to have Jesus with skin on (that’s what I call someone who loves me) to get me through a hard time.

I knew I was in trouble when I couldn’t wait for Sunday. Not because it was a day of worship but I couldn’t wait until communion so I could have a piece of bread. If that wasn’t bad enough I searched the basket for the biggest piece. I couldn’t wait for Tom to say, “You can partake of the elements.” Everything he said before that sounded like the teacher from Charlie Brown (waa waa, waa waa, waa). Can I go to hell for that? Nah.  

This experience confirmed what I already knew deep down – food controls me. I eat when I’m hungry, when I’m sad, when I'm happy, and whenever I’m awake. Of course I need to eat for health and well being, but I can’t use it as a way of escape. Instead I need to lean more on God. I need to learn balance. Food isn’t bad but the grip it has on me is.

The hardest part of being addicted to food is that I need to eat to sustain life. It’s not something I can stay away from. As we would say back in Brooklyn, "I need to make it my bitch" and not the other way around. I need to learn to enjoy it without letting it destroy me or control me from the inside out.

This cleanse has taught me so much. I feel better. My knees are starting to forgive me. I walk better. I have more energy. It’s given me a chance to reflect.

I watch Tom everyday get up, exercise and plow through the tough parts of the day. I’m encouraged by his progress and his willingness to be open about his struggles. He’s so determined that it helps me to be also.

One day at a time is my motto. I can do this. I can do it because I’m not alone on this journey. I feel all the love and support from the people around me. I’m grateful beyond words for Tom. I would have given up a long time ago if it wasn’t for his love and support. It helps to do this together.

© Nadine Zawacki 2013

Day 8

It’s been a week since Tom & I started this adventure called Juicing. The first few days were tough. I found that I didn’t miss ice cream or potato chips but I would have killed for a nice piece of steak. The truth is that I feel better. I’ve lost fifteen pounds. I had lots of issues with swelling, especially in my legs. The swelling has gone down. These are all good things. You can’t really notice the weight loss but I know that will come also. When you’re this heavy it takes many pounds before a difference is seen on the inside. That’s okay because my insides are very happy with me right now.

There is this thinner, healthier woman in there and she’s screaming to come out. She wants to dance! She wants to run! She wants to live long enough to hold grandchildren in her arms. I’m afraid if I don’t let her soon she may never come out.

I started to walk this week. Funny thing about that is the first day I didn’t get very far. I walked about a block and a half and was sucking air from every pore of my body. My hip hurt. My back ached. My knees wanted to slap me. Tom was encouraging. He told me if I couldn’t walk any further he would walk back and get the car and drive me home. He’s my hero. But he didn’t need to put on his cape because I limped back to the house. The next day I went further and with less discomfort. On the third day I walked even further. It gets easier every time.

I found that after a week of juicing, I’ve developed a system. I still like to play with recipes and have come up with some that don’t taste like grass. I found that if I make all the juices for the day in the morning it only takes an hour (including clean up) and I’m done. I’ve gathered some tips that I found helpful.

Tips:

-If I clean my veggies when I buy them and store them in plastic bags or containers it saves time when I’m juicing. Example: kale & celery can be washed and left to dry on the counter, then stored.

-If I make my fruity drink first, then my carrot based drink and then the green drinks I only have to wash my juice machine once.

-If I store the drinks in  16 oz. (500 ml) mason jars it makes it easier to keep air out of the jar. Fresh juice keeps for a day or two if there isn't any air in the jar.

Some people have done juiced for as little as three days up to sixty days. I’m not sure when we’ll stop but one day at a time is my new motto.

© Nadine Zawacki 2013

Juicing

There’s this gal at our church who started a juice program. She looks great.  I was inspired, but deep down I’m thought to myself I like food. I like eating.

I’ve tried to lose weight before in my lifetime and I was very successful. Ready for the big butt (pun intended) – I couldn’t maintain it. Why? Various reasons but mostly because I couldn’t change the way I ate in the long run. It was hard to eat healthy when you don’t live alone. I’m not that strong.

Tom wanted to do this juice thing. He was inspired too. He wanted to feel better. Our friend recommended we watch, Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead. I added it to my list on Netflix to watch, but didn’t watch it.

 We watched the documentary recently. It was good and it inspired us. We invested in a Breville juicer. It’s very good by the way. It’s super fast and it juices well.

Tom’s very brave and posted his weight on Facebook (daily). I have not. It’s only day four of this new journey but I’m encouraged. Tom’s motivated. He’s inspired me to hang in there. He has lost 10.2 pounds and I’ve lost 9.5. Then he did the craziest thing and purchased a used elliptical trainer. Hmmm. Now we must add exercise. I think he’s secretly trying to kill me.

I’m not brave enough to share my starting weight but let’s just say I need to lose about the size of a very tall healthy freshman in high school. I took a before picture, but I still look like that picture to post it. Maybe when I’m halfway towards my goal I’ll share.

For now I’ve started a journey to better my health. I want my knees to not revolt against me for making them work so hard. I want to shop in the normal section of the store and not in the Plus size which is just a polite term. Omar the Tent Maker is more accurate.

I’m determined to reach my goal. I know that I’ll get there because I’m not walking alone; I have Tom on this journey with me.

© Nadine Zawacki 2013

Singing Sands?

One of the things I love about living on Prince Edward Island is exploring it. Tom and I enjoy getting into the car and just driving. The drives along the coasts are amazing. The land has so many different shades of green that it boggles the mind.

One of the places I wanted to visit was Basin Head’s Singing Sands. The sky was clear and the temperature perfect. It took about an hour and fifteen minutes to get there but the time just flew by. We walked down to the beach and the sand was pinkish white. We started to walk. We wanted to hear it sing. We drugged our feet in the sands. Zip. We shuffled our feet in the sands. Zilch. We stomped. Nada. I even picked up the sand and squished it through my fingers. Still nothing.

I would have taken any type of noise from those sands that day but maybe it didn’t like me or wasn’t in the mood to sing. Maybe I showed up during intermission. I don’t know why the sands didn’t sing but I don’t hold it against it. The beach was still beautiful and time spent with Tom was a bonus for me.

Whether the sands made any sound for me doesn’t matter. Maybe I just was moving my feet about incorrectly. I don’t know what the trouble was but it wasn’t a waste of time. I had a lovely time. It was peaceful. The sound of the water was calming. Maybe that’s what I needed to hear.

Sometimes I try to listen to God speak to me and I don’t hear anything. The time I spend with Him is peaceful and I feel better when I’m done. Sometimes He speaks to me in His silence. Sometimes I don’t get what I wanted from time spent with Him but I get what I need.

© Nadine Zawacki 2013

32

Today Tom and I celebrate thirty two years of marriage. That is a pretty extraordinary accomplish in and of itself but I can honestly say that I love him more today than when I said those I do's.

What I didn't realize then was the dept of love we would share. I was only nineteen years old on that day. I've matured and I've grown or at least I hope I have. Tom had a lot to do with the woman I've become. God used him to soften my rough edges and used me to lighten him up. We have two beautiful children that we couldn't be more proud of if we tried.

Looking back there were mistakes, there were tears but mostly there was love mixed with lots of laughter. The tough times were made easier by the faith we shared. God helped us through the deaths of my dad, his mom and cancer. So I thank God today for the man He gave me thirty two years ago today to share my life with. The man He chose to be the father of my children. He's not perfect, just perfect for me. 

Tom, you're a good man and the love of my life. I love you with my whole heart. Happy Anniversary.

© Nadine Zawacki 2013

High School

I've been organizing my photos and have found some gems. I came across some high school photos. I had a bunch of friends who signed messages on the back of their photos. It prompted me to pull out my year books. I went to two different high schools. 

The first one was St. Brendan’s in Brooklyn, NY. It was an all girl Catholic High School because my dad didn't want me to meet boys -ever. Sorry Pops, still met Tom at sixteen in the neighborhood. The school closed down after my junior year because funding. I had the option because of my grades to graduate early by going to summer school and start college at sixteen. I just didn't feel ready for that, so I opted to finish my senior year at another Catholic High School – Nazareth Regional HS. That school was all boys until my sophomore year when it became co-ed. Hence in my senior year it was the last of the “mostly boys” class – sorry Tom.

I read the messages on the photos and in my year books. The messages were all very similar – glad we were friends, keep in touch, always keep your sense of humor, you made me laugh, you made school fun, glad I got to know you, thank you for listening, hope you do well, and good luck in the future. My favorite was I hope we keep in touch. Back then we didn't have the internet much less Facebook. It seemed that after graduation it was hard to keep in touch. Thanks to Facebook I've reconnected to some of friends from high school. 

There was one exception of all the messages that were written in those books. In my junior year this was written:

Although I've really only known you a short time, I tell you that you are someone very important in my life and I hope to spent a lot more of my life with you. You are my very special person. Love ya a lot, Tommy.

That person was Tom. We had been dating about four months at the time. It made me grateful for the love we shared these past thirty five years. It's grown and matured. I thank God that He allowed a relationship born out of high school to endure all these years. 

Tom is the love of my life. I love him and our children. The life we shared and the adventures we've been on. The friends we've made all over the world have been priceless. 

© Nadine Zawacki 2013

Anne of Green Gables

Today was an absolutely beautiful day on Prince Edward Island. It’s been a long winter and the sun felt so good on my skin. Tom (my wonderful, spontaneous, handsome hubby) suggested we go explore the island. Laundry – tour the island – laundry? You don’t have to ask me twice. The island won. We ended up at the home of Anne of Green Gables. It wasn’t opened but that didn’t stop us. We got to walk around and take pictures. It was so much fun.

Then if I wasn’t in love with Tom enough, we stopped by Frosty Treat and ate some fried clams. Yummy. It was such a glorious day because I got to enjoy this beautiful place we live in and spend time alone with my honey. We talked and held hands. It was so much fun. 

I wondered what made this day so special? I started laundry and there were things I needed to get done today, but the idea of an afternoon with Tom won out. I loved the fact that it was a spur of the moment idea. Tom thought of me and wanted to spend time with me.

Then I had this thought . . . what if God felt like that about me? I sometimes think, I have a busy day today and I don’t have time to fit Him in. I think He likes it too if I’m spontaneous with Him. So the next time I feel His tug, I will just go with it and put the laundry aside until later.

© Nadine Zawacki 2013

The First Time I Heard . . .

I watched an episode of How I Met Your Mother that triggered a pleasant memory. Marshall and Lilly just got married and stopped to get something to eat at a hamburger joint. Through funny sitcom circumstances beyond their control, they didn’t have anything to eat at their fancy wedding. The guy behind the counter said, “Hey dude your wife just barfed in the garbage can.” She had too much champagne. A pleasant smile crossed Marshall’s face.

I know what you’re thinking but no I didn’t vomit after my wedding because I got drunk. Granted I was only nineteen when we got married so technically that sip of champagne I had during the toast was illegal. Shhhh . . . don’t tell anyone.

The pleasant memory it sparked was the first time I heard myself being referred to as Tom’s wife. We were together for over three and half years before we said, “I do.” I was used to being called, “Tom’s girlfriend” and then “Tom’s fiancé.” This was different. This was special. 

On the way to the honeymoon, I needed to make a pit stop. There was no place to stop, so Tom stopped at an office building off the highway. Tom asked the man behind the counter if his wife could use the restroom. When he said the word ‘wife’, something inside of me felt complete. That same smile I had seen on Marshall’s face appeared on mine. It made me almost forget why we stopped in the first place. 

It’s almost thirty-two years and it still doesn’t get old. I love when he introduces me. He adds now that I’m his better half. I disagree with that. He’s my better half. Together we have grown into better people because of the other person. He’s helped me be nicer and I’ve helped him to be funny. 

© Nadine Zawacki 2013

I Stand at the Door

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Last night I had a vivid dream. I was in a deep sleep, but I heard someone knocking at my front door. I heard it so clearly that it woke me up. That was the whole dream. I woke up scared that someone was at the door. When I realized I was dreaming, I went back to sleep. When I got up this morning I told my resident dream interpreter what had happened. Tom’s first thought was, Revelation 3:20 - Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.

I pondered that for several hours knowing that God wanted to talk to me. He wanted me to invite Him in. He went to great lengths to get my attention. I then had to be honest with myself – I had shut Him out. My heart grieved. When did this happen?

It happened very slowly over many, many years. It started with a hurt and a disappointment to unanswered prayer. He didn’t answer my prayer the way I thought He should. I started to blame Him without really saying it out loud. Here’s the thing I didn’t have to say it out loud. I said it within my heart and my heart grew harder.

He didn’t shut me out. In my hardness of heart, I didn’t totally lock Him out. He continued to use me to pray for people and minister to them even though I struggled inwardly. I don’t why He continued to allow me to love on people but He did. I just couldn’t love me.

Today is a new day. Today I admitted to myself what I’ve done. I admitted it to Him. He loves me unconditionally. I never realized how much until He knocked so loudly I couldn’t ignore Him anymore.

© Nadine Zawacki 2013

The Making of a Bully

When I was a child I made fun of – often. I was teased because of my nose. The kids would sing the song from the Fruit Loops commercial. In case you’re not familiar with it, it goes something like this; “Follow your nose, wherever it goes.” It made me feel ugly. I never thought I was pretty. Celebrities like Cher and Barbara Streisand were my heroes. They were talented and beautiful to me. They kept their noses and were proud of who they were. I wanted nothing more than to get a nose job. If I was in a crowd as an adult, I would cringe and feel my heart race if the conversation turned to large nosed individuals. This kept up until I was healed in my late twenties.  

I guess being bullied could have made into a very angry or bitter child. Maybe it could have made me hide and develop a shell around me. Instead it made me fight back and turned me into the very thing I hated – a bully.

I’m not proud of that part of my life. I decided to be proactive. I never turned away from a fight. I would fight with all my might. If someone said something to me, I came back at them. I would get into fist fights. I would never back down – ever. I became more outgoing. I became whatever anyone wanted me to – a clown, a confident girl who flirts like I was the most beautiful model in the world. You get the picture. I wrote this next paragraph before, but I thought it fit with this story.

One day when I was 18 years old, I was on a city bus and noticed a girl staring at me. I sat in the back of the bus and right before she was about to get off, she looked at me. She asked, “Do you remember me?” I replied, “No, I’m sorry I don’t.” The next thing she said went through me like a knife, “You used to pick on me and beat me up when we were in grade school.” She then got off the bus. I just wanted to crawl under a rock. I was stunned. I was speechless. When my brain started to work again, I wanted to get off the bus and chase her down and tell her how very sorry I was. I wanted to tell her I’m not the same person. I was ashamed that I couldn’t remember the face of someone I caused such pain. I didn’t have the decency to remember her name. But all I could do was pray and ask God to forgive me. I prayed for her that she would find peace and healing for the hurt I caused.

The making of bully for whatever reason, was not a pretty story. It wasn’t pretty that I was tortured and it certainly wasn’t pretty what I did to my victim. What it’s taught me is that I was what I was because of circumstances of life. It didn’t excuse what I did but I’m grateful God healed me, changed me, and helped me to be more loving.

© Nadine Zawacki 2012

The Stairs

A few years ago I was visiting my brother-in-law in upstate New York. It was a birthday party and I was having a good time. I had to use the restroom and took a step down and something happened to my left knee. I was in a lot of pain. I went to the emergency room and then seen a specialist. It turned out I torn my meniscus. The specialist told me because of my “age,” “weight,” and the fact that I have osteoarthritis; he didn’t feel an operation would help. Nice right. Lucky for him, Jesus took enough of the Brooklyn out of me that he’s still breathing. I walked with a cane for a season. When I did start to lose weight, my knee felt better. But let’s face it, who wants a doctor to tell them the obvious – you’re old and overweight. 

Since that time, I noticed something about myself. Whenever I walk down stairs, I lead with my right foot. I never step down on the left. I’m very cautious and walk down slowly. I was in pain for a long time and I didn’t want that to happen again. I didn’t want to take any chances. I was going to protect my knee at all costs.

It’s been two or three years since this happened, yet I still walk down the stairs with my right foot. I didn’t realize I was doing this until the other day. So I attempted to walk down the stairs leading with my left foot. Funny thing was nothing happened. I didn’t get hurt. It still felt very weird to me. It didn’t feel natural any more to walk that way. I was so used to walking the other way that I didn’t know how to walk down the stairs normally.

I found that when my heart gets hurt by someone, I do the same thing. I protect it at all costs. I start approaching other relationships cautiously. I’m not sure if the new person will end up hurting me as the last person did. It’s unfortunate but my deepest wounds have been from other Christians. Why is that, I wondered? It’s because I let them in the closest. 

I put up protective walls around the organ that was hurt – in this case, my heart. I don’t take chances. But that’s no way to live. I robbed myself of the richness of love that’s out there. Just because someone hurt me, doesn’t mean everyone will. Just because it happened in the church doesn’t mean I shouldn’t go to church anymore. For a while there I walked with a cane. I limited myself. For those you who were around me at that time I apologize. 

Coming to this island has been like a fresh start for me. I realized that I had the walls up and it wasn’t fair to me or to the people of the church. I’ve let the walls come down. It feels good. I feel free. I feel like myself. I’m starting to feel what normal is supposed to be. I’m not walking funny anymore. 

© Nadine Zawacki 2012