2016: A Look Back

As someone who spends a good amount of time on social media, I have heard people complaining about and hating on the year 2016 since probably February. Yeah, it was a very intense year in a lot of ways. There were celebrity deaths, political turmoil, mass shootings, and a lot of harsh words spread around. I get it; things like that aren't comfortable to think about and process. For me, however, 2016 was comparatively a  really good year. Maybe I'm just looking at it through rose-colored glasses because I had some really good things happen. Or maybe it's just that when you compare it to the year that every single one of my best friends moved to other countries, or the year where I had to leave my home, my job and the country I love most in the world, it seems a whole heck of a lot better. There was the year that my family sold everything and moved to a dying tropical island only to have the entire situation turn into a manipulative nightmare that led to us returning to the states, infected with scabies and living in our pastor's house for months until we could find someplace of our own. That was a hard year. The year I turned seventeen  I struggled with forgiving myself to the point where I was in a vicious cycle of self-loathing and trying to avoid God, only to feel more self-loathing because I was avoiding God. I still think that year wins for hardest year ever in my life so far. I even look at 2015 as a really hard year for certain reasons, even though there were some amazing things that happened.

Perhaps it is because I love even numbers that I had such an optimistic outlook on 2016, but even the hard things from this last year have silver linings to them. I found out I was weaker than I thought I was, but through that I have learned just how precious and amazing grace is. The unending mercy of Jesus is so valuable to me, because I need it. I have seen the ugly, dark side of my heart in a way I never thought I would, and I know that my only hope is the blood of Jesus and the work He did on the cross. I always knew it, but now I know it. I think I have cried during every communion service I've been to this year because I have understood so much more how much I need it. Of course I'd rather not have a fight that I feel like I lose more times than I win, but if I gain a little bit more perspective of how deeply Jesus loves me and how He continually fights for me, then I can't regret that. 

I also learned that I am stronger than I thought I was. I acted as "Fake Mom" for 23 days. I edited, formatted, published and promoted a book that I wrote. I left a job that I loved. I went to another country and led a 3 1/2 day conference for children by myself. My family brought two children into our home to make them a part of our family. I wrote an entire story in 15 days. I opened up to others and allowed them to love me in my weakness. When I fell, I got back up again.

The fact that I was able to return to North Africa and stretch my little writer wings has been incredible this year. I spent more time with my best friend this year than I have since 2009. I watched my 19-year-old brother return to a country he loves and come back changed and determined to be a voice in the nations. My second niece was born and my entire family came together for a reunion for the first time in five years. I was in the wedding of a dear friend. There are families in my life that allow me into their homes to love on and care for their children. My dance parties are better, I chopped off all my hair and I spent my birthday at Worlds Of Fun. I spent the fall season looking for magical moments. I cried when people told me they loved my book. I cried when I sat around the table with my family and realized just how good God is. I discovered a special place to go when I need to be alone. I was inspired to see beauty, write beauty, and be beautiful.

The prayer that I prayed the most in 2016 was a request for God to show me how to love better. So many people claim that the world's problems could be solved if we all just loved, so I prayed for love. I prayed that I would know how to love my neighbor, no matter who they were. I prayed that I would know how to love God in the midst of a world filled with contradicting opinions. I prayed that those around me would feel loved. I prayed that the world would desire that perfect love that casts out fear.

Right now I have no idea what 2017 will look like, but I am excited to walk out this journey. It might be hard, but I've done hard. It might have pain, but pain pushes me into the strength of Jesus. It might be a year where dreams are unexpectedly fulfilled right in front of my eyes. No matter what this next season brings, I pray that I would continue to see the good and I would continue to fight for truth, righteousness and purity to be in my heart. I have long since been convinced of the faithfulness of God, and every year only makes my heart believe it more and more. 

May your 2017 be filled with the joy and blessing of the Lord. May you see the good gifts given to you from Jesus and may your heart be strengthened in love. You are valuable. You are wanted. You are loved. 

all the love,

Baylea

Five Love Stories

Story #1-

I was never in love with him.

Not that children can't fall in love, because I believe they can in their own special way, but that's not how it went for me. 

I did like him, though. I liked him a lot. 

Honestly, I don't remember what first stood out to me about him. I remember that he was friendly. Kind. I was an 11-year-old girl with thick bangs, big glasses and a disease that no one else my age had. The first time I met him my family had just moved back from a foreign country where my world had been tipped upsidedown. A different language would sometimes randomly pop out of my mouth to go with my stories about killing turnatulas and the giant centipeed that we poured gasoline on and lit on fire. I would clam up when I saw the other kids wasting food because I had seen children starving to death. But somehow, despite all the things going on in my head, I noticed him, and he noticed me and took the time to show me that. I don't think he meant anything by it, but my heart gripped that tiny bit of attention and held onto it for dear life.

I only saw him from time to time, when we would travel to visit family. Our interactions really weren't anything special, but to me everything about him was special. When I was 13, I found out that my two best friends had crushes on him and I decided to stop liking him in case he went for one of them. 

He never did. In fact, he didn't go for anybody for a long time, and I would wonder, as a young adult, that maybe, if we spent time together as 22, 23, 24 year olds, something more would spark? Wouldn't that be a story; old crush from summer camp finally falling in love with awkward, little me. 

We're still friends, still chat and catch up if we randomly bump into each other. We still have the same circle of people we keep in touch with that we knew as kids. That's how I know that he recently fell in love and married a girl I've never met before. He had to wait a long time to fall in love and I hope she knows just how lucky she is to have him. 

Story #2-

I was never in love with him. 

But not because I didn't want to be.

Not in the least.

With everything inside of me I wanted to be in love with him!

Why wouldn't I? He loved Jesus, he loved his family, he loved kids, he loved his friends. He was always the one encouraging purity and righteousness amongst his peers. He played guitar and knew how to dance. At the age of 15, he was absolutely perfect and I was anything but. Everything in my life was an emotional mess as I sorted out my mind, heart and feelings about moving halfway around the world as a teenager. Day 2 in the country and I met him when he invited my siblings and I to youth group. Did I forget to mention that he was one of the most attractive young men I had ever met in my life? That was helpful.

There were little things, like the time a group of us hiked in the Middle Atlas mountains for 4 hours and by the end I was in so much pain I could hardly walk so he carried me. And the time when a man was falling asleep on me in the back of a taxi and he called me so I could talk to him and wake up the man. Or the time when it was my birthday and he traveled with 2 of my dearest friends to spend the day with me. 

I wanted it to be him. 

Maybe if I had been a little more perfect, or had a better grip on my life that time a group of us stayed up all night talking and I confessed how much I was struggling with things. But maybe not. Years went by and I convinced myself that I had moved on, until he would show up and my heart was ruined all over again. Not that he ever knew how far my stomach sunk when he walked away as a 21-year-old man, away from me and the guy standing beside me who would never come close to being to me what he was. If only I had known I would run into him in the street that day! If only I had been able to sit and have a conversation with him! Like I said, maybe if I had had a better grip on my life...

A few months later he fell in love, not with me, of course, and I wished him all the best, because that's what he was; the best.

Story #3-

I was never in love with him.

I thought I was, because I thought I had to be. 

In the end he never had enough of my heart to truly make me fall in love with him. 

Sure, he gave me butterflies and the first time he held my hand on the bus in Thailand I thought I could never be happier, but love? I didn't even know what love was supposed to really look like. 19 years old and fresh from the mountains of North Africa, I was a bit lost without my sister, my country, and you remember story #2? Yeah, was super stuck on him. 

It didn't take long for me to realize that I was soaking up his attention and he was more than happy to dish it out. I'm not sure what he saw in me, but there weren't a lot of options and I was clearly up for his game of who could flirt the most. It scared me to feel my heart become attatched to this stranger, this man who was opposite of everything I had fallen for with the boy in story #2. Then he told me he liked me and I thought it was a sign that everything was going to be okay. He was, after all, the only boy in America to have ever declared feelings for me. 

Our relationship was awkward with a few sweet moments that made me hold on too tight to something that I should have seen as bad. Not bad as in he manipulated me or used me or abused me, but bad as in long-distance sucks and I never saw the way he flirted with the other girls after I left. Bad as in once the excitement of "catching me" wore off, our conversations were shallow and rushed. I don't blame him completely; neither of us knew how to be in a relationship, but I do blame him because he should have known better than to make me think everything was pefect and then break up with me over the phone 10 days later. 

He ended up dating, and later marrying, a girl I used to go to summer camp with. Every so often I tell people the story about my only real ex-boyfriend and wonder what he's doing with his life. I suppose I could check his facebook, but I guess I don't really care to know that badly...

Story #4-

I'm not saying I was in love with him, because it didn't last long enough really know if it was love or not, but I will say that no one else has ever made me feel like him. 

The day I met him I wrote in my journal that I would marry him.

The day I met him I was wearing my red long-sleeved shirt that I still have in the back of my dresser drawer. 

The day I met him I was 21. The boy from story #2 was dating the girl he would later marry, and it had been a year and a half since the boy from story #3 dumped me. 

It wasn't a thunderclap or lightening bolt type of feeling when I met him. In fact, he noticed me before I even noticed him. He told me later that he loved how I was singing Christmas carols and skipping around the apartment waiting for everyone to be ready. I laughed because, honestly, I should have been helping get the tea and cookies together. We were going to pass them out to homeless people in the old city, my neighborhood actually, and there were new faces there along with the normal crowd of friends. 

As the evening progressed, I was drawn to him more and more. He was funny, brilliant, kind and different from every other man from that country that I had ever met. I was so much more than an American girl to him; I was Samira, or Sam as he later began calling me. We found out we were literally neighbors and had lived within a block of each other for the last 3 months. 

I didn't give him my phone number that night, but later I wished I had. We talked for hours on MSN chat and he told me he liked me. I don't think my feet touched the ground for weeks after that. One of the best nights of my life was the night I had to go out to buy blank CDs from an internet cafe and he asked if he could come along. I brought two of my little brothers and we walked around our neighborhood for over an hour, laughing, joking, chasing each other's shadows and soaking in every moment. There was a point when I stood back and watched him pick up my 3-year-old brother to make him laugh and my heart just burst. I had never felt that way about someone ever in my life. We ended up buying the CDs from the shop we had stopped at first. He laughed at me when I did the math wrong to figure out how much it would cost, then he paid for them himself. Everything about that night was perfect.

He drew me a picture a couple months later that was of two snakes out of their holes during a storm. It signified two lovers defying all odds and staying together even when people were telling them the wouldn't work out. 

That picture, however, wasn't meant to be us. March 24th, less than 4 months after meeting, my family and I left that neighborhood. Left that country. Left that Continent. We emailed a few times, but bad things were being said about me, and several of our mutual friends cut me off. He said it didn't matter what other people were saying, however it was only a matter of weeks before he had blocked me from facebook and stopped responding to emails. The last time I heard from him was days before my 22nd birthday when he said that it was his cousin who had changed all his passwords and deleted his friends on facebook. I believed him until nothing changed. 

Sometimes when I am desperate to see his face again, to know how he is doing, I try to search for him on the internet. One time I found a paper he had written and I read the whole thing. I didn't understand it, but I read it anyway. 

Maybe one day I'll run into him again. I'll ask him if he's fallen in love, if he has a family. I hope the answer is yes, because I want him to be happy. For all the happiness he brought me in that short space of time when we lived just down the street from each other, I hope he has happiness in his life.

Story #5-

I didn't want to be in love with him.

I wasn't supposed to be! It wasn't supposed to end up that way!

But it did. I fell in love with him.

I'm not blaming my sister, but he was her friend first, and when she moved away the summer I turned 22, we were both left with an empty space in our lives. We didn't exclusively fill that space with each other, but it was nice to have a friend who was free to hang out whenever I wanted, would always text me back and gradually became more and more familiar. 

What happened between us happened so slowly I didn't even notice it was happening until one day I was 25 and realizing that I enjoyed life so much more when I was with him. When I was scared or lonely, he was my first thought, when I was having a bad day he was the first person I turned to and if I needed anything, I knew he would be there for me. People started asking us if we were dating. He always said no, but...

What is dating? Is it going to Walmart at midnight to buy $40 worth of junk food to eat while staying up until 4am watching TV and cartoons? Is it texting him to come get you when you want to get out of your house? Is it him driving you around to look at Christmas lights for hours because he knows you love it even though he could care less? Is it him taking you to your favorite place to eat as a surprise because he knows you've had a rough day? Is it going with him to his parent's house on Christmas day and spending the evening with them, playing games and realizing that he picked your card to win in Apples to Apples on purpose? 

Whether or not what we did was technically "dating", when he suddenly cut me out of his life to date some other girl that he used to work with, it hurt. Forget about all the falling in love stuff; he had been one of my closest and best friends for three years and in a matter of 2 days, I was nothing. We had a few moments of texting back and forth, hanging out, catching up, but it wasn't the same. I became tired of texting him and never getting a response, so I stopped. 

He didn't seem to care, because two whole years went by before he even texted me again... to invite me to his wedding. 

Sure, he never actually told me that he was as in love with me as I was with him, but he did tell me, "Baylea, I don't care what is playing on the radio, as long as you're with me." 

In a couple months he will marry the girl he fell in love with while I was still in love with him. Maybe I'll go. Maybe I won't. 

Maybe by then I'll have someone of my own to fall in love with. 

For all writers

Do you ever feel like people think you’re the biggest idiot for wanting to be a writer? 

I’m just thinking as I edit and feel really good about my book and the quality of my writing while remembering the looks on people’s faces as I tell them that I’m getting ready to publish my second book. 

They look to the side, as if they are embarrassed for me, feeling the need to cringe and not meet my eyes because, shoot, people don’t usually know how bad they are and when their book is out there, they’ll finally realize how poor of a writer they actually are. And they want to tell you, but they don’t have the heart and assume you’ll just have to find out the hard way. Because that’s how people learn sometimes- by thinking they’re great at something and finding out how small they really are and how big and cruel the world really is. And I’m sitting here, actually really pleased with how far I’ve come and the characters I’ve created and their stories that I have crafted together with tears and skill and excellence, and I think to myself, “Just wait.” 

Just wait. 

Because I know I’ve done a good job. I know my characters are real and have emotion. I know that I have the ability to tell a story and pull others into the mind and feelings of someone on a page. And I don’t need their awkward glances, their almost apologies, their cringing and their forced smiles, because I’m not going to step out with this book and be embarrassed. Does that mean everyone will like it? Not in the least. But my book will be loved. It will be seen as quality. It will be shared and people will talk about how it moved them and the characters were just like them.

 I don’t have illusions that my book is the best or going to be known on a grand scale, but the people that do know it are going to see that it is excellent work, that I put my all into this, and I wasn’t just chasing some fantasy or some delusional idea that I’m a good writer when my work is mediocre at best. They’ll look at me and realize that this wasn’t a mistake or a failed attempt to express myself as an individual. 

Writing books is real. It’s valid. It’s not just a place-holder for a space of time to collect myself and recover from failure or try to sort out a different job. This is my job. This is what I want to do. I am a good writer and my books are good. One day people will see. 

The end.

But not really, because stories last forever. 

"What if Bambi Never Existed?"

Jamie’s hand stroked back the girl’s hair as she cried. 

“What if Bambi never existed?”

“But Bambi does exist, Aly. It’s okay. Bambi’s safe.” Jamie tightened his grip on the girl. “You’re both safe. It’s all okay.”

Meet The Author [Part 2]

Hello everyone. 

This is me. 

Love, Baylea

What The Doctor Knew

The sun hit Addie full in the face as she stepped out of her apartment and onto her front step. With one hand she pulled her sunglasses down from the top of her head and settled them onto her nose, the large, darkened lenses provided a little bit of relief from the glare. The other hand dug into the small, simple bag she used as a purse for her keys, day planner, chapstick, wallet and other essentials. Grasping the small key ring, she pulled it out, locked the door and started for her car.

What’s going to happen today? This whole week has been tough. Addie complained to herself. And then I had that dream last night about when… About him… Addie couldn’t even finish the thought in her head as words echoing around in her mind in a different language burned her ears. She quickly switched gears in her head like she always did when the thoughts of the past tried to overwhelm her. He refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for His name sake. Jesus, refresh my soul. I know you've been guiding me my whole life. Help me trust you.

As she finished her short prayer, she reached her dark blue Toyota Camry and sighed. What time was it, seven in the morning? Goodness gracious, there were still seventeen hours left in her day...

...Addie sighed, turning on the radio and ending her prayer with a disappointed amen. She pushed it all out of her mind and purposed to enjoy the day no matter how hard of a start it had had.

Half way to school there was an empty road that most people didn’t take. It wasn’t a short cut, it was actually slower because the speed limit was lower, but it was beautiful out there and a whole empty road to herself was too tempting for Addie to resist. She had time. Turning up the radio as she turned onto the scenic route, Addie’s smile became genuine.

Trees just regaining their foliage stood straight and tall, lining both sides of the road for a ways before fading away and providing a view of the expansive and still empty fields, ready for a summer of corn to grow. All was still. All was calm…

“WHAT IN THE…!!!” Addie slammed on the breaks and felt her seat belt lock as her body flew forward from the sudden stop. Heart pumping and adrenaline bursting through her body, Addie put her car in park before fumbling with her seat belt and giving the volume knob a huge twist down. Her whole body was shaking as she jumped out of the car. “Are you okay?”

“Oh thank God! I didn’t think anyone would ever come, please, you have to help me! Please!” A woman with short, messy, black hair and ripped, blue jeans came running towards her, a naked baby screaming in her arms.

Oh dear Lord, what happened? Addie felt herself begin to lose her balance for a moment but steadied herself against the hood of her car. I have a bad feeling about this!

“Please, you have to get us to the hospital! Please! Please!” The woman begged, her big scuffed up leather boots clumping against the asphalt road as she ran towards Addie.

“Okay, I’ll take you.” Addie reassured the woman, motioning her to come. “I’ll take you, come on!”

It wasn’t until then that Addie realized that the screaming little body in the woman’s arms was bleeding everywhere. The woman’s shirt had blood stains all over it and the blood was running down her arms in garish red rivers.

 “Oh my word, what happened?” Addie could see blue lips, a tiny button nose and two little eyes scrunched shut as he wailed and screamed. Tiny fists waved furiously and feet kicked at the air. “Is he your baby?”

“No, I just found him!” The woman’s voice had a German accent and it stopped Addie cold. A flood of unwanted memories, including ones stirred up by the dream last night, filled her mind and she had to shake the thoughts away before she could hear what else the woman was saying. “...just left there! I don’t know who would do such a thing! You have to help us! Please!”

“Okay, let’s get in the car.” Addie regained her senses and ushered the woman into the passenger seat. “I’ll get you to the hospital as fast as I can.”

Addie didn’t say a word as she sped down the road, totally ignoring the speed limit. Beside her the woman kept repeating how awful it was that someone would try to butcher an innocent child like that. That accent was messing with Addie’s mind and she forced herself to keep old memories at bay, praying for strength and that the baby would live.

Cuts from a knife were deep and long, all over the baby’s chest and stomach. There were several deep marks on the baby’s head but his face was the worst with blood gushing out of a huge gash in his right temple. At one point in time he choked some blood that ran into his open mouth as he screamed and he nearly didn’t make it to his next breath. Addie’s stomach was in a knot thinking about how the baby might die right there in her car.

Dear God, don’t let that happen! I know You’ve made me strong, but I don’t want to have to live with that in my memory!

The woman in the passenger seat clutched the child to her chest and her lips moved silently as tears streamed down her face. Addie’s own eyes stung with tears as her heart became attached to her small passenger. Her mission was to get that baby to the hospital and make sure he lived.

#buybaysbook

I'm using that hashtag on twitter and facebook all weekend long to talk about my first book that was published two years ago. I know you guys have been hearing about Bambi for months now, but I want to share the book that I already have out there.

THIS BOOK IS ONLY $4 IN THE KINDLE VERSION! 

Stay connected on my book's facebook page What The Doctor Knew to stay connected and follow the hashtag on twitter to keep up with what I have planned for this weekend. Tomorrow will include a giveaway, so don't miss out on that!

Bay