MegBeck

My dresser has returned to it's original home after 17 years. I'm sitting here, in the room that was originally called "The baby's room", while nostalgia and still frames gently settle in my mind. Across from me a faithful dresser sits, storing my clothing; a dresser my grandfather made for me when I was born. That ol' dresser and myself, are the only two who are familiar to these four walls, as we both spent our first eleven years of "life" here. The rest of the items placed carefully on the shelves and around the room, are all new to this place. My dog and cat are curled up sleeping at the foot of the bed, finally getting used to this place I'm calling our home, for now. Two months ago I quit my job, because I felt God calling me to something else. Although I did not know what that something else would be, and am still sorting that out, I know now my brother needed a care taker, and God would choose me to be just that. From the compan

Today I quit my job of two years. During those two years I was challenged, stretched, and grew as an individual more than I have grown in all of my 29 short years of life. I left, not because I have bigger and better things I want to tackle, no; I left because God has bigger and better things for me to tackle, and not in a materialistic way. Let me tell you, those words sounded strange coming out of my mouth this morning, as I explained to my boss my reason for leaving. But I know they were true. Over the past several months, when I'd get in my car every morning, I would say to myself, "Megan, what are you doing? This is not where God wants you anymore." I continued to ignore it and it showed in my work. My effort was lacking, my motivation slipping, and my mind racing, wondering, "If not this, then what?" I loved the people I worked with, my boss was fantastic, and the perks I received from working in the corporate world would make any person extremely gratef

If dogs could read, this is the letter I would write our dear friend Judd who just passed away over the weekend and post mark it to Heaven's Gate. (That is in fact my one wish from God, that he will let dogs in heaven. My barter with him goes something like this, "God if you let dogs in heaven, I promise I'll open my mouth and tell as many people as I can about your son to try and lead them to your kingdom.) I just really love dogs. But I guess that's no secret. Enough about that, back to my letter. Dearest friend, You showed me many things in your two short years of life. I just wanted to thank you. You taught me that big hearts are far more admirable than what you can offer as a premium package. If you were to go to a job interview, you would get hired for your bright personality, your eagerness to live life, and the way you could make people laugh; not necessarily because you were the greatest at chasing cattle. I can apply this to my life so easily lit

This is a post to remind you you're human. This is a post to remind you not of your imperfections, but of the perfect path you are on. Wherever you are in this exact moment is where you are supposed to be. And oddly enough, we fight against this truth every day of our lives, because much of the time we have different ideas of what we would be doing now; where we would be living, how much money we would be making, the bodies we would have, the things we would have accomplished, the gardens we would have planted, the things we wanted for our children, the letters we should have written, the exercising we intended to do, the people we were supposed to end up with, the projects we never finished, and the trips we would have taken. We look in the mirror and see bags, wrinkles, double chins, and gray hairs. We see mistakes, regret, and imperfection. We lay in our beds and thoughts of failure, anxiety, and fear, roll around in our brain like a game of pool, constantly knocking into on

If I could let you inside of my mind, I would have to warn you, be prepared for colors. And tidiness does not dwell here so I apologize for the mess. Upon entering the front door, which is often left open for new ideas, you will see shades of blue and purple splattered on the walls. Those colors were once stored in a box of their own in the back room, but I would open it too often and found it left me feeling a bit unhappy, so I decided to make them part of me and my living space. They are hurtful memories I've turned into beauty. Colors of orange and pink are scattered on the furniture, which I might add are mainly floating clouds I sink into often; hints of sunrise portraying reds and yellows engulf them. I love falling into these clouds, as I can dream new dreams. Phrases come when I look at objects, lyrics and poems are written in tiny lettering all over the walls. I sit in my clouds and stare at words, wondering how to let them out cleverly. I am hard at work here, always crea

I remember the conversation very well, it was a chilly fall evening sometime in late November, I sat on the couch alone crying on the phone to my best friend explaining I was injured yet again, but this time I would be out for the season. To an athlete, an injury can be one of the most depressing and isolating experiences one can face in their college career. If not surrounded by good company and a positive outlook, one can easily slip down into the rabbit hole and make themselves comfortable. My best friend ended up driving two hours to see me that night, just to sit on the couch with me. We ate ice cream like typical women going through a trial. Surgery came a few weeks later, I had my ankle cut open and my peroneal tendon pinned back into place, (for those who aren't familiar, it is the tendon that sits directly behind your ankle bone and goes up the side of your calf). Mine unfortunately was partially torn and would slip out of it's place and pop over my ankle bone while

My Dear Child, You say you cannot hear my voice, when you ask me for direction. Know that every day I am giddy with excitement in the ways I have planned to speak to you.  I am there, with you, always.  Waiting to be heard. It's been said that I am boring, but rather the world has lost it's sense of wonder and awe.  I am in the chirp of a robin, the rays of a sunrise, the smile of a stranger. I am in the cry of a newborn, the tears at a funeral, and the joy at a wedding. I am there always, if you knew how to be silent.  When you come home from work, I plan to inspire you while you cook supper. Instead, you turn on the radio, so I sit back and watch quietly. You keep telling me you'd like to wake up earlier and take the dog for a walk. I have so many things I'd like to show you in the mornings, if you'd stop hitting snooze. You tried to grow closer to me by cancelling your cable, great move on your part. But replacing it with Netfl