Never Make a Decision When You’re at the Bottom of a Hill

I went running a few weeks ago with a friend and I was struggling.  I mean REALLY struggling.  She is a very good runner and I am a very inconsistent therefore pitiful runner at best.  We were nearing 1.75 miles and I was losing steam quickly especially as I looked ahead to a small hill that was approaching.  I wanted to stop, but she said firmly,

“Never make a decision when you’re at the bottom of a hill.”

Now, we’re not talking about running any more.  We’re talking about LIFE.

How many times have we been in a bad place at the bottom of a hill and tried to make a decision only to find it was a bad one made out of desperation?  When I am at a low spot for whatever reason - I make terrible decisions.  If I only had a little patience.. and persevered… and got over the hill… which requires patience… and I lack patience… and I need to be patient and stay the course… which requires patience…

Get my drift?

If we stay the course when a hill approaches, and work a little harder, before we know it we’re over the hill!  It’s cool to look back at our hills when we’re on the other side and high-five ourselves for making it!

You CAN’T QUIT when it gets tough – that’s when you KEEP GOING!! Hills make us stronger!

Every time I come to that spot on the road at the bottom of the hill, I think about my friend and I smile.  

Bring on the HILLS!!

P.S. If you like country music, this is a GREAT song! "Mountains" by Lonestar

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QoqGUVOXmkU

Back Home With Myself

I recently met someone originally from Ohio who left home and spent a great deal of time on the West Coast like I did.  We reminisced about California and some of the places where we visited and it really made me reflect on my life then… and now.

I got on an airplane for the first time in my life in 1990 when I was 22 years old and moved to Boston to be a nanny for a wonderful family.  About 8 months after I moved in with them, they were transferred to the San Francisco Bay Area so I went with them.  I stayed with them and took care of their beautiful girls for a few years and then moved across the Bay to Oakland where I had a cute little 1920s studio apartment in a trendy part of the city.  I worked at a printing company in a bad part of Oakland and went to night school to finish my degree. (My BSBA degree is from California State University.)

I traveled all over California and the western states:  Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe, Santa Barbara, San Diego, Seattle, British Columbia, Santa Cruz, etc.  I used to take BART (a train) to downtown San Francisco (across from Union Square between Saks Fifth Avenue and Neiman Marcus) to get my hair cut every other month.  I knew the back roads to the Napa Valley and Sonoma Valley.  I looked at palm trees and the Bay Bridge every day on my way to work.  I didn’t own an ice scraper or a winter coat. I rode my bike all year. I had a great life!

But I missed home.

I missed my friends.

I missed my family.

I missed where everything was familiar.

I missed me.

I’ve been back home in Ohio for 19 years and could not be happier with my life!  God has blessed me with two beautiful children, the most loving family a girl could ever ask for, friends that are absolutely incredible, and peace. 

I needed that time and those miles of separation to find that what is most important to me is really right where I started.  Home sweet home.

I’m back home with myself – and it feels fantastic!