52 People Project - Liliana Gullo Ross

This is part 3 of my 52 People Project where I reflect on individuals who I have had the honor to walk side by side with in this journey called life.


Liliana Gullo Ross

In 2005, I started volunteering at Crisis Pregnancy Outreach. It was around July when I picked Liliana up to take her to see her doctor. She was quiet but engaging. She told me a few details of her story and had an entertaining conversation with my 3 year old, Foster who kept calling her Ms Arianna instead of Ms Liliana. From our conversation, it was pretty clear that she had made up her mind to parent the son she was expecting and she had selected a family as her Plan B. 

Jason and I had chosen to pursue adoption after struggling with infertility. Crisis Pregnancy Outreach is an agency that places children in families through Open Adoption. Birth mothers get to chose who will parent their child and an open relationship is established between the birth mom and the adoptive family. I was drawn to this concept because I believe there is so much power in honesty and openness and adoption is an amazing act of LOVE! 

In December, our phone rang with the news that there was a girl who wanted to meet with us about placement. I was told that I may remember her...her name was Liliana, that I had given her a ride to a doctor's appointment months earlier. She had given birth to Caleb in September. She loved him deeply and felt that adoption was the right choice for her son. There was something so special about the moment we sat down with Liliana, her parents, her sister and baby Caleb. We instantly felt like family.

A day later, we learned that we were chosen to be Caleb's parents. 

On December 27th, several cars pulled into our long driveway. Liliana arrived with Caleb, her parents and her 5 siblings. It was a emotional time as Liliana so bravely handed me her baby boy and trusted that I would love him with as much deep tenderness and genuine love as she did. I was honored and humbled by her trust. 

When Liliana drove away that night with her family and I held Caleb in my arms, I ached. My heart broke for the pain that Liliana must have been feeling. How could I ever truly thank her for this gift? We were not sure exactly what the relationship was going to look like. She asked for time to heal and I respected that. But only a few days later, she called me and we talked. Our friendship began and we developed a genuine love for each other. 

Liliana and I have been friends now for over 7 years. I love her more with each passing  year. She is married to an amazing man who spoils her rotten ;) They have 3 boys who keep her running. We typically find time to spend each holiday with the Gullos...we basically find any excuse to get together and eat good food and laugh. They feel like an extension of us. I love them like family. 

Liliana is an amazing birth-mom. She does a great job making sure Caleb AND Foster know that she loves them. Caleb knows that he was in her tummy and knows that I am his "mom". It seems normal to him. He feels so special knowing that so many people love him. 

There are no amount of words that I could string together to express how thankful I am for the gift Lilana gave us. I love her with all my heart and I am so thankful for the steps we have shared on this journey!

Until next time, 
Becca

Today happens to be her birthday! Happy birthday Liliana. XOXO!!!

52 People Project - Gigi Ferguson Lewis

This is the second installment of my "52-People Project" where I reflect on individuals who I have had the honor to walk side by side with in this journey called life.

Gigi Ferguson Lewis - 

I don't exactly remember meeting Gigi. It just feels like we have always been friends. It was somewhere around 6 or 7 years old at Exciting Eastwood Baptist Elementary School where our friendship started. We later attended Metro Christian Academy together and both graduated high school from Holland Hall. I have always found it funny that she and I were drawn to each other; we are quite opposite. Gigi is petite and somewhat soft spoken. I tend to be more on the "sturdy" side and can be a bit loud. Gigi loved Hello Kitty; I liked G.I. Joe. Gigi always looked cute and her clothes matched; I would throw on the first thing I could get my hands on. In 6th grade, during the president's challenge, she held her chin-up for longer than anyone in the class. I think I help mine for 2.5 seconds. She was up there for hours...not really, but it sure seemed that way. 

At some point, in our childhood, our parents thought it was a good idea to sign us up for duet piano lessons at Trio School of Music. Before going to class, Gigi and I would go to the convenient store on the corner to get our sugar fix and fill our music bags with Jolly Ranchers. After spending a majority of our lesson trying to keep us from talking, wiggling and giggling, our poor teacher, Ms Hern probably had to slip next door to Charlie Mitchell's for a stiff drink to regain some sanity.  

One of my favorite things about my friendship with Gigi is that our sleepovers would turn into 3-4 day stretches. Whether she was staying with me or I was staying with her, we would always beg for "just one more night". I loved when I got to stay with her... especially when her mom would cook Teriyaki Chicken for dinner. Gigi and I would sleep on the hide-a-bed in the den where we would count the rings of the grandfather clock and find reasons to giggle until we fell asleep. Sometimes we would wake up before the rest of her family and we'd cook french toast and watch cartoons. Those were simple times that I loved spending with my best friend. I think I still even remember her phone number. 492-6038 if I am not mistaken. 

Although we had spent a majority of our elementary through high school years together, college took us in separate directions. Gigi met Dan and I stood by her in a hunter green dress and heels as they said their vows. Gigi stood by me a few years later for my wedding. We both later graduated from nursing school. She has 3 wonderful children and is a pastor's wife. She is probably one of the most beautiful people I know inside and out. I don't see her much these days; our paths just don't cross. When they do thought, it is as if not even a single day has passed. I love her deeply and I am thankful I got to spend so many years of my journey with such a sweet friend!

Until next time, 
Becca  

52 People Project - Jenn Smith

This is my "52-People Project" where I reflect on some of the people I have had the pleasure of walking side by side with on this journey of life. I hope to write each week; there will be no specific order.

This project is for me. As far back as I can remember, I have struggled with feeling alone. I look on Facebook and see 500+ friends and it boggles my mind. How can a girl with 500 "friends" ache from loneliness on a consistent basis?

We all tell ourselves stories that validate what we feel on the inside. We tell ourselves stories about why the jeans don't fit right, why we deserve to buy something we can't afford and why that girl doesn't like us. We justify our hate, our prejudices, our insecurites, and our fears with our stories. We are good at it. There are many stories I tell myself but the one I seem to have been telling myself the longest is the one that feeds into the ache of being alone. Perhaps I want to be strong enough that I don't "need" people. Perhaps I just don't want to ache even more when a relationship falls apart or a friend moves away. Perhaps I just long to connect more deeply with people than I feel they want to connect with me. I don't know, but this is my attempt to change the story I tell myself and to focus on the people who have held me up and who have loved me along the way.

I will begin with Jenn Smith

I met Jenn on the tennis court. She had on red shoes. My co-captain and I were trying to build a great 4.0 team and we were scouting out new players. After seeing Jenn hit the ball, we quickly asked her to be part of our team. It took me 6 months before I could remember Jenn's real name. I called her "the girl with the red shoes".

Jenn was quiet and somewhat mysterious. She is not one who opens up quickly. Each time we would spend together it was as if she was slowly opening the pages of my favorite book while I eagerly awaited the storyline to unfold. She was kind and thoughtful. Many nights we would extend just "5 more minutes" until past midnight talking over a cup of coffee at Shades of Brown. Needless to say, I would be the one doing most of the talking. She helped me feel interesting and significant...she still does.

If you don't know Jenn, you are missing out. She is amazing. She is incredibly creative. She can take anything and make it beautiful. If you have been in the gardens of Philbrook Museum of Art in the past 7 years, you have seen some of her work. You should see what she has done with our backyard!!! She is also musical. She sings and can play a mean guitar. To top it off, she is an athlete. We did our first (and only) triathlon in 2009 and she smoked me in all 3 events. She is great at anything she puts her mind to...that is just who she is. This inspires me!


Jenn and I are very different. I am the ying to her yang. Or maybe it is the other way around. While I am more laid back and disorganized, she is much more structured, tidy and aware of every tiny detail. Where I am more likely to be drawn to budget, precise measurements and numbers, Jenn is more likely to feel her way through life and is guided by beauty and balance. I tend to be a planner and sometimes have a hard time letting go and having fun. Jenn has helped me learn how to relax and pause long enough to see the beauty in the simple.


We don't always get it right as we navigate this life together. She has learned what "red-headed temper" means and I have learned what it is like when two incredibly stubborn people try to figure out who is right in an argument. But we find a way to work things out and we continue to learn from each other each day. She loves me in spite of the socks I leave all over the house, the toilet paper holders I leave empty, the times I talk when she longs for silence and the collections of drinking glasses I leave in the bathroom and on my night stand. Jenn knows my secrets...the things I wish I could hide forever or change for good; she knows my struggles and my inconsistencies and she still accepts me and chooses to stay.

I want to grow old with her. I want to sit next to her as we watch the boys walk across stage at graduation or down the isle to say "I do". I want to celebrate retirement and grandchildren with her by my side. I want her hand to hold when life hurts and I need to know that I'm not alone.

Jenn is my very best friend and I am so thankful to be sharing this journey with such an amazing girl!

Until next time,
Becca

"Holy Chicken"

Tomorrow is the infamous and ever controversial Chick-fil-A "Appreciation Day". The thought of many of my friends loading up their kids and proudly standing in line at 71st and Garnett to order their "we are right and you are wrong chicken" makes me feel frustrated and sad. Let me try to explain...

To begin with, I believe in the right to have opinions. And I appreciate the moral code in which the Chick-fil-A company conducts their business. I think it is commendable that they follow their convictions of being closed on Sunday and I am in favor of their right to send their dollars to organizations in which they believe just as I have the right to do the same.

There are things to like about Chick-fil-A. I think they make a damn good sandwich and their ice cream is delicious. I love that they give my parents a senior discount and free dessert and know them by name when they make their weekly visit. If this "Appreciation Day" had not been politically hijacked, I'd be "eatin' me some chicken" tomorrow...I am all for building strong families in America. My sister and brother-in-law have some friends who's marriage was saved by one of the organizations Dan Cathy supports. That is a good thing people! I would be fully behind a movement like that...if only that is where it stopped.

Although most likely unintentional, posts like these are hurtful. I know there are many people who stand behind this cause because they love Jesus and they think that if Jesus were here on earth that he would be in line to support marriage tomorrow. But I beg of each of you who make this assumption to rethink this.

Although not a perfect example to make my point, it at least helps show the character of Jesus - When the men stood with stones aimed at the woman caught in adultery, did Jesus have a stone in his hand? NO! Jesus cared about PEOPLE...He wasn't an issue guy. Whether it is abortion, gay rights, war, religion...I do not believe that Jesus would have ever been a sign holder claiming that his viewpoints were RIGHT. That was the Pharisees obsession and Jesus spent much effort and time trying to convince them of another way. Jesus loved people. His love, grace and compassion is what drew people in, not his opinion.

And here is where Becca's demeanor shifts and my jaw clinches a little. Again, I have to stand by my belief that people have the right to their opinions, but nonetheless, this is hard to swallow. It is very hurtful when Christians take the stance that "the gays" are responsible for the demise of America and "God's judgement on our nation". This firm stance is what makes it impossible to be a gay christian and this political stance plants fear on one side and anger on the other. Until this is dispelled, I fear the gap will not be bridged by love, compassion and understanding.

 (In attempts to not speak for the whole gay and lesbian population, I will personalize this) I have dealt with my sexuality since I was around 9 years old. I felt alone, confused, broken, and afraid. If I could change this part of me that I hid in fear, I would have...I begged and cried out for God to change me. This is my experience and anyone's attempt to convince me that I just didn't try hard enough falls on deaf ears. If you haven't walked in my shoes then you will never understand. My story as it has unfolded has been ridiculously painful but I was one of the lucky ones. I didn't get bullied or beat up. My family continues to love me and I was never disowned. I moved through my hurt and instead of clinging to a destructive addiction I was able to grasp the parts of my faith that confirmed how deeply I am loved just as I am...that my salvation is through faith, not works and that there is nothing that can separate me from the love of God.

I have already gone through so much pain and vulnerability to live my life authentically. Now I am supposed to become the scapegoat for "God's wrath". Seriously??? Give me a break!!!

On my shoulders, I am expected to carry this burden when what I really want is to be treated fairly as a human being and left alone. My days are spent trying to love people - all people - no matter their race, size, socioeconomic status, or sexuality. Each person on this planet has value and I believe if you love them enough, they may start believing it! I want to live a life of compassion, grace and kindness. And to be very honest, many of my gay and lesbian friends live with these same goals. I guess I just don't understand what is so different about us that we should be feared.

 When any individual is defined by an attribute, it is WRONG. We are all human. We are all wonderfully designed and loved by God. We all have parts of us that contribute to the good in the world and all have parts that contribute to the bad. Hopefully, we all have days when our kindness makes a difference in the life of another. And no doubt, we each have days when we pull out in front of a person or make a rude comment and it ruins someone's day. We are part of this human experience together. So why can't we stop finger pointing and start seeking kindness, compassion and understanding. I assure you, we really aren't all that scary. After all, we are just like you.

As I explain it to my boys (ages 10 and 6):
While most people find a best friend of the opposite gender that they want to grow old with, some of us for some reason find someone of the same gender that we want to spend the rest of our lives with...our goal is to love everyone and show respect that their choice is what they felt is right for them. It is not our place to judge. My boys get it. Hopefully everyone else will catch on some day too.

So if you celebrate Chick-fil-A Appreciation Day tomorrow, I hope you see things a little differently. Be part of it because you are FOR strong marriages, FOR running a business according to your conviction...FOR really good chicken. Please don't go because you are against your fellow human beings right to pursue their hopes of freedom and happiness. And please for the love of all that is good and because you love me, please stop saying that people "like me" are the reason for all the bad in this country because it just isn't true! Allow me the decency to live my own life and grapple with God as I work out my faith. I will allow you the grace and time to do the same!!!

Much love,
Becca

Don't Spill The Beans

I’m a pretty considerate driver. I try to stay out of people’s way and tend to just go along with the flow of traffic. The other day, however, everything was different. It began with a slow Texas turn out of a parking lot and a careful acceleration to just under the speed limit. Each lane change was a planned meticulous event that I avoided as long as possible. In that moment, I may as well have morphed into my grandmother barely seeing over her steering wheel as she drove her burgundy Cutlass Supreme down the streets of Skiatook, Oklahoma. The main difference between my Grandma’s careful drive and mine was that I could feel the frustration of the drivers around me. But the fact is, you must drive slowly and with great caution when totting 2 huge trays of beans in your backseat.

I’m pretty sure everyone would have understood it if only they knew the load I was carrying. Perhaps next time, I will hang a sign in my back window “beans on board”.

Doesn’t this happen in life all the time. We expect people to extend grace to us when our load is heavy or potentially messy yet we so easily get frustrated when people cause us to slow down, make changes or God-forbid have to stop what we are doing. We tend to find brilliance in people who respond (or drive) the way we do yet we quickly get our feathers rustled when someone is different. The fact is, we don’t know people’s stories. We rarely slow down to listen before jumping to conclusions.

Just like “beans on board” perhaps we should each carry personal signs - “death in the family”, “I feel alone”, “I long for attention because my parents ignore me”, “I think my spouse is cheating on me“, “I just want to feel like someone cares if I exist“. Wouldn’t this help us see people as people rather that just an obstacle to our day?

I wonder how differently we would conduct our lives if we reached out to people with grace instead of responding to how their behavior affects us! Unfortunately, we will never carry signs. Information about our pain and insecurities is kept hidden and masked. Our life’s circumstances, relationships, secrets, fears, successes and pain have brought us to where we are. Equally, the guy at work who can’t quit talking about himself and the girl who can’t seem to quit talking about everyone else has their own set of circumstances, relationships, secrets, fears, successes and pain that has brought them to where they are. Maybe it would all do us some good to slow down and listen. Maybe if we understood the load that people carry, we wouldn’t be so frustrated by how they differ from us.

Just remember, sometimes you are the one carrying the beans and sometimes you are the person behind the bean carrier. In other words, you are often the one in need of grace and perhaps even more often the one who needs to extend it.



Until next time,
Becca

Just Be

A little over 2 months ago, we got a puppy named Izzy. She has brought much change to our lives. I never imagined spending so much time in my front yard but there I sit, each day on my front step, waiting for Izzy to take care of her business. I assure you, she is never in a hurry. Most mornings begin with a brisk walk around the block to work out some of her pent up energy. This, I really enjoy! And Larry, our 8 year old rescue dog, who used to practically live under the bed has now become very very social.

I have found it interesting to watch Larry change. At the sound of the alarm, he used to just reposition himself in bed. It wouldn’t be unusual for him to sleep 2-3 more hours before slowly getting out of his bed with a long low stretch. His favorite place to spend the day was under the bed where he seemed very content and pleased to have his alone time. Although we have an upstairs, he had only been up there maybe a dozen times in the year we have lived in our home. He was just a content lazy dog who lived a life of luxury on the ground floor…..and we love him the way he is, because he is Larry!

Then came Izzy.

Now, Larry is up at 6:30am ready for whatever the day brings him. He still retreats under the bed but at the first movement toward the kitchen, he bolts out like lightening to make certain no scrap or crumb hits the floor. If anyone bends down to pet the puppy, here comes Larry. He has even managed to squeeze his body into Izzy’s bed at night leaving her no choice but to sleep on the floor or wedge herself into what little space is left (as demonstrated in the picture).

At times I find Larry’s jealousy humorous. At times I find it annoying. And at times I become keenly aware of how pathetic and silly I must look when I do the very same thing!!!

So much pain comes from jealousy. I wonder what life would be like if we just lived the life our heart longs for us to live…from a position of gratitude, never worrying or comparing ourselves with others. I can only imagine how peaceful that would feel.

Recently when I was in Colorado and we were hiking up to Alberta Falls, we came to a drop off that lead down to a roaring waterfall. The waterfall demanded my attention, but then I started looking around at everything around this landscape. It wasn’t just the waterfall that was beautiful. The rocks displayed such power as the water crashed against them. The trees created a beautiful backdrop of green. Some trees even grew almost sideways out of the mountain so they could get sunlight. They were a picture of determination and survival. And the leaves of the aspens danced to the melody of the wind. The whole landscape was absolutely beautiful…every intricate detail played a part in this masterpiece.

As absurd as this sounds, what if the rocks sat all day pouting that they were not a river or what if the trees got tired of their leaves dancing and instead wished they were sturdy rocks. A bit silly, I know. But isn’t this what we do all the time. We obsessively spend our time comparing what we have, what we look like, if we are the best at this or that. We not only just mentally compare, but often we try to be someone we are not, just to feel of value. We so easily get swept away in the game of jealously that we miss out contributing our part in the masterpiece.

So if you are a rock, be a rock. Be sturdy. Be bold. Be a secure place to stand. Just Be!
If you are a tree, dance and sway with joy. Be flexible. Be beautiful. Be a place to find shade. Just Be.
If you are a river, flow. Be glorious as you meander the landscape. Be a place to be refreshed. Just Be.
We are ALL part of this story. Every single one of us plays a part in this masterpiece.

May we each have eyes to see God…not only in the rocks and the trees and the rivers, but also in our brothers and sisters!!!

The Window Seat

If given the choice, I pick the window seat. But even if I am in the aisle, I crank my neck so I can keep my eyes glued out the tiny window. As the wind moves under and over the wings to cause lift from the ground, my mind goes to the same place each time. As I watch school buses become blobs of yellow, trees become patches of green and buildings become dots of gray, I cannot help but think about how little and insignificant I really am.

It’s funny how much time we devote to feeling important. We carefully pick the clothes we wear, schools we send our kids to, cars we drive, and even the phones we carry because we think people are looking. Whatever it takes to get the most positive attention. It seems that we want our gadgets, our hobbies and the people we associate with to tell a story about who we are. And at all cost we want to avoid things that don’t validate that story. We can let a spot of ketchup on our khakis ruin our day. (My gosh, what will people think?) This whole game we play is subconscious.

For some reason though, when I am cruising 550 miles per hour and looking down to see nothing but squares of different shades of brown and green and occasional blue bodies of water, I become very conscious that none of this matters! I am really really really small!

I love watching HGTV. I don’t know why but it brings me pleasure to see the inside of homes and what people do with their space. The other day, I was watching a show about a family looking for a home on a beach overseas. They had a budget of 1.2 million. Seriously, who has that kind of money? Oh well. Happy for them. They saw a few houses and then the realtor snuck in a 1.4 million dollar house to compare to. It had all the bells and whistles. The granite counter tops. The heated tile floor. 9 bedroom. The pool overlooking the ocean. A beautiful grill and outdoor seating. I know this will be shocking, but this couple somehow pulled together an additional $200,000 and bought the house with all the extras. About 15 minutes after I watched the show, I walked into our kitchen to get a drink. Our white tile counters made me roll my eyes; we need some granite. I looked out in the backyard and the broken tiles around our pool shouted back at me, “fix me!!!" Our little $35 charcoal grill looked very sad and out of place on our back porch like a 1982 station wagon in Donald Trumps driveway. The list of things that HAD to be done to our home all of a sudden became very long. Why? Because I was comparing myself to the guy who had an extra $1.4 million to spend. My perspective shifted. My position of gratitude and awe that we get to wake up each day in a home that we love was replaced with a focus on what wasn’t perfect.

Don’t we do that in so many areas of life. You walk out the door feeling pretty good about the 5 lbs you lost and then you end up sitting by your workmate who is a size 2 and now you feel like an elephant. You feel so proud of your kids and then your friend starts bragging about how her son was voted 'most likely to be the next Payton Manning'. Suddenly, the fact that your kids won the Spelling Bee or The Math Olympics doesn‘t seem worth mentioning. Or you finally make that last car payment and it is 100% yours and then your sister-in-law drives up in her new Ford Mustang convertible or even worse a Jeep Wrangler loaded with an off-road package.

Perspective shift…

Yesterday, I got a letter from Frantz. He is from Haiti and we have been sponsoring him through Compassion International for over 5 years. In his letters he asks me questions and I do the same in my letters back to him. In yesterday's letter, he asked if we are taking any vacations this year. As a matter of fact, we are. We are going to Colorado in September and Disney World in November. It is my habit to send him pictures so I sent one of a Florida beach and one of the Colorado mountains but I kept the details to a minimum. With Frantz, I feel embarrassed at the abundance we have. The price of our airline tickets alone is more than I send him each year. Knowing that he lives on a dirt floor with his mother who is in poor health makes me feel ashamed that having granite countertops even matters to me. And how in the world would I explain Disney World to him? It all seems so insignificant…and completely unfair.

The fact that there are even 1.4 million dollar homes in existence when there are people in this world living on dirt floors is a shame. Knowing that I will drop thousands of dollars so we can go hang out with oversized pretend animals when there are people who can't scrape enough together to keep their utilities on is kinda hard to swallow when I think about it.

I am so thankful for my home and the AC that blows non-stop these days. I am thankful for the car that gets me where I need to go and I am thankful for my good health. My perspective should always be from a position of gratitude! My hope is that I never put my desire for granite countertops in front of making a difference to those who don’t have clean drinking water or those who can’t find jobs in this economy. May I never focus on the ketchup stain on my pants instead of the person who needs a friend to listen. And may I never focus so much on what’s in my head that I ignore the stranger who just needed a smile to be reminded that they are not invisible.

And next time I start focusing on what I don’t have, may my perspective shift back to a position of gratitude quickly. Stuff doesn’t matter. After all, from a distance,they are just blobs of color.