Every area of my life has changed, and all for the better. If nothing else, I was just forced to step back for a moment, re-evaluate my life, and thank God that I am here, healthy, happy, motivated, and blessed.

I don't even know what my last blog was about...whatever it was is nearly irrelevant now. I just watched a dash-cam video of a civilian aircraft crashing just outside Bagram Air Field in Afghanistan, and after I threw up my dinner, I cried.

Hard.

On January 24, 2012, I was in a plane crash on the runway of Kandahar. I knew that something wasn't right when we left Dubai...but there obviously wasn't much I could do. After a relatively uneventful couple of hours, we were approaching Kandahar Air Field. The pilot was shifting the fixed-wing plane this way and that...but considering I was unfamiliar with evasive maneavouring, I just figured that this is what happens when we land in a war zone.

Just as our wheels were supposed to touch the pavement, the plane ascending very quickly about 250 feet, jolted suddenly to the left, and we were careening down another runway. Before our wheels were about to touch once again, my last thought was screaming in my brain: WE AREN'T STRAIGHT!! And the right wing, the wing I was sitting on, slammed into the ground, followed by the nose, and we came to a screeching halt.

Smoke billowed all around, and I could see firemen coming to being watering down the plane: we survived. Over half of the passengers went home due to injuries sustained as a result of the crash...me? I was just grateful to be alive.

But in watching the released video of this civilian aircraft crashing in Bagram...I'm speechless, not only for the seven grieving families left behind (one including a pregnant wife and two little ones), but because I know that fear...that fear right before you hit the ground, and you know that something's not right...

And I pray for them.

I know it's been a while since I've blogged...I guess being in America and so busy has meant that I'm no different than anyone reading: no time for the things we want to do; precious moments spent doing busywork. It will be better now, I have more news to share and will be more attentive to my family and friends curious of my life since I am constantly separated from you all.

If nothing else, trust that although I'm not home often, that doesn't mean I don't know where home is. <3

After a while...

It's been several months now since I've blogged...months filled with incredible joy, adventure, reunions, travel...

with undertones of fear, confusion, and overwhelming pressure.

I knew that coming home was going to stretch me almost equally as much as contracting to Afghanistan did, except in very different ways. Afghanistan grew me, molded me, changed me, and gave me time to reflect and channel. But the demands of America leave me longing to return to the desert...it was so simple and refreshing there, no matter how fearful.

Even as recently as 20 minutes ago, I had to call my Dad and apologize for my behavior during an earlier phone call. There was miscommunication between myself, him, and our insurance agent(s), which has since left my car uninsured. Becoming aware of this today made me resort to my inner-demon:

"Had I taken care of this myself, I wouldn't have to worry right now."
"It's such an easy task, how could it be so difficult to accomplish?"
"Because of these people, I have added stress and expense at a less-than-opportune time."

Mistrusting and belittling remarks literally POURED from my heart in the silence of my living room, and although I thank God that I didn't have the guts to verbalize them, it didn't matter...what my heart was saying was just as potent as if they fell off my lips. Bitterness is in my heart...a sharp reaction that the Military instilled in me for when their requirements are not met, a learned behavior that I am now practicing.

I have found that I expect things to be done 'just so', all the way down to compulsive cleaning and obsession. I find myself wasting time by making a will, designating my belongings, and preparing should I die. I am obsessed with my weight. Since losing 30 pounds, I am terrified of gaining it back. But furthermore, my thoughts concerning losing the remaining weight envelopes me...

you may be thinking, 'the remaining weight??',
but that's the point.

Pretty much the very last possible thing I wanted to do tonight was go to a Mary Kay meeting that I've been waiting WEEKS to go to. 'January Jumpstart' was nearly ruined by my insurance conundrum...but law be damned, I went anyways because I knew in my heart it was where I needed to be.

I couldn't have been any more correct.

After pages and pages of note-taking on how to build my business and perpetuate fun while doing it, I was awoken to truths that my heart knew but my brain forgot. I have been blessed to join a unit here in which God is the foundation of our group...and I don't mean 'God, you're so warm and fuzzy', I mean the kind of God I worship, the 'I'm gonna refine, stretch and mold you until you outgrown the pot you're planted in.'

My eyes are opened that my behavior, thoughts, need for control...whatever you want to call it...stems from my inability to trust others. In Afghanistan, trusting a person meant that your kiester/life was on the line if something went wrong, and that was a risk I was never willing to take. In America, we MUST rely on one another, or how could any request be met? We trust that the papers are filed, the action is pending, that whatever it is is on it's way...that someone, somewhere is taking care of it and it will come back to you completed. And if the ball is dropped...then oops. Try again!

I can't expect to come home from Afghanistan and not change again. I went into war a child, and came out a strong, independent, and articulate woman. THAT refined me. God knows that I am not a sucker for the complacent. So He is lovingly stretching me once more...

and preparing a bigger pot for me. <3