New Jeans, New Beginnings, and Consequences for Standards

Have you ever made a decision to stand by your standards and shortly after the line was drawn in the sand, the way people reacted to your decision shocked you?

Let me start off by stating something that many people I've talked to recently find difficult to understand: I'm a virgin and will stay that way until I get married.  I never really thought that would be such a big deal until I got older and the decision I had made before God became one that I had to follow through with and question my reasoning.  Recently, it's been a deal breaker for some relationships I've been in, and I have mixed emotions over the outcomes of those situations.

I'm glad that I can honestly say that I have stood my ground when it became easy to falter.  In the heat of the moment, compromises can be made very easily and I've seen how easily I can justify stretching those boundaries juuuusst a hair...but I'm so thankful the Holy Spirit has held me in check.  I've almost crossed the line, and God snatched me back.  Don't let me fool you into thinking I never struggle with desires, and I'm a perfect saint who never even entertains those types of thoughts or situations.  I've just been granted the strength and fear to say no.  As a guy was pursuing me, he couldn't understand why I chose to stay away from something that he thought was an essential part of a healthy relationship.  The world looks at sex as just another step in the natural progression of "trying a person out".  He asked me if I would buy a car I never test drove.  Seriously?!  Not the same thing.  I believe sex is a covenant you cut with the other person, and it holds the same level of commitment as a binding contract, as the promise God made to Abraham, as the devotion He declared for His children.  There is no way I'm going to cut a covenant with someone who has not committed their life, first to God, and second to me in front of God and our families.  I can't bear the thought of handing my heart to my husband someday saying "here's my heart, honey.  I know it's not quite all there, and there are pieces missing, but those were just from other guys.  I thought I loved them, but maybe not.  Here's what's left!  Love you!"

I know that over-simplifies the situation, and there are a million reasons why people have crossed that line in their pasts; many reasons why I have almost crossed that line, but I want to encourage those that have made that mistake that there is beautiful redemption through Jesus Christ.  I think sin is sin, and no matter if you cheat on your taxes, on your girlfriend/wife, or steal a grape from the grocery store, it's all sin in God's eyes.  If the man I'm supposed to marry is not a virgin, that will be difficult for me to get past, but not impossible.  He will have to be as committed to repentance and treating me as a daughter of the Most High as I am to honoring and respecting him.  It just saddens me to know that, for that reason alone, many people, a few guys, have decided I was "too good for them" or "not experienced enough" or whatever other lie they chose to believe.  I just know that those men were not meant to be in my life for whatever reason.  God knows why and I wholly trust Him.  I'm not even sad or upset about them walking away, or me walking away from them.  I'm sad that they can't see the truth and haven't grasped the severity of something they find to be no big deal.  It IS a big deal!  Sometimes I wonder if my husband will ever show up...

Ok, on to the New Jeans part--

The last time I bought new jeans was May of last year when I had porked out and couldn't fit into any of my old ones.  I bought size 9s and felt so ashamed, but there wasn't much I could do about it at the time.  Over the summer I was more active than I had been during my first year in vet school, but I wasn't working out or anything.  When I got back to school and started CrossFitting, it took me a while before I was consistently doing it, and adding diet change, as well.  Now, it's March and I just bought a pair of size 4 jeans!  I feel wonderful, I feel attractive, I feel stronger.  I competed in my Box's in-house competition a few weeks ago, and signed up for the 2011 CrossFit Open Games.  I did the first Rx'd WOD on Saturday and, even though I'm not anywhere near the top, I'm on the board.  I completed a WOD that people across the world are doing, and I never thought I could do, but I've found a side of me that I didn't know was in there... A part of me that says "You've done worse than this before and you finished it."  Or "You're over half-way there.  Don't stop.  Just keep moving!"  I've seen how that has overlapped into school, difficult times at home, and other things I'm struggling with.  My class had 2 weeks of non-stop exams (7 in 13 days) and everyone was exhausted.  I caught myself comparing it to a WOD.  Finishing one test was like finishing a round.  The last exam was like sprinting back into the box at the end of Helen.  I have begun to see how much farther I can push myself and how far I've come.

Helen is one of the named WODs in CF.  It's 3 rounds for time of a 400m run, 21 kettlebell swings (35#) and 12 pull-ups.  This was the first WOD I ever did and the guy that had me do it was clearly trying to kill me.  I could barely jog and got really light headed after the 2nd round.  I didn't know how to push myself then, and frankly, I thought I was going to die, so I quit.  I vowed never to quit a WOD again.  That was in October of 2010.  I did Helen again in December when I got my own kettlebell (to break him in and to see how tough holding a brand-new slick KB was, with dew-covered pull-up bars and fun stuff like that), and finished it in 24:40.  Terrible, but completed.  A few weeks ago my box had us do Helen and I finished in 12:02.  I may not be in the top ten on the Games website, or the fastest in my division, but I'm making progress against myself.  I have to keep reminding myself of that daily when I compare myself to the other girls at the gym.  It's good for me to compare at times, but I can't let it discourage me.

Mom and I went to the Under Armour store yesterday because I wanted to get some shorts.  Yes, that's right.  Ciera Guardia now owns shorts.  I'm not sure how to react to that, either.  Just keep breathing.  Mom has started doing some CF with me.  I taught her how to warm up correctly, squat, lunge, etc.  I've got her deadlifting and push-pressing, and we go walking on Sundays.  I plan on buying some dumbbells for her to use until she gets stronger.  She wants to be stronger and I'm really proud of her.  She bought a pair of Under Armour capris and a T-shirt, and the dude that was helping us whistled at her!  She's adorable and I hope I'm that cute when I'm her age. 

Well, If you've gotten this far down, you might just be bored.  Sorry for the ramblings.  It's been a while since I've been able to write.  I hope I've given you something to think about, and maybe have encouraged you a bit.

Strong is Relative

CrossFit: Olympic lifts, agility, gymnastics, muscle endurance, balance, coordination, control, strength. All these things have given me an outlet for the frustration I've been experiencing lately in life. During my first year of vet school, it was torture to be inside the walls of that building. I felt like a failure and couldn't wait to run away, but no one knew that. This year, that building has become my escape (kinda). Everything it represents gives me hope for my future. Although I feel like the world is crashing down around me, and the floor keeps getting pulled out from under my feet daily (no, this isn't about a boy), that building reminds me that there's a rope tied around my waist pulling me to higher ground (which is, ironically, what Sierra means... A higher place...)


So, as I progress with CF, I have been analyzing my goals and motivations. Helen was my first taste of CF and I have no earthly clue why I ever came back after that WOD, but somehow I did. Here I am today; Squatting over 120 for 5 reps, no sweat, doing handstands and burpees in the Rec Center, and deadlifting more than my body weight after just a few months. This is my outlet; my escape; my thing. Why? Because I can. Because I couldn't before and now I can. Because I am worth more than a lump on the couch. Because I want to be able to look hot naked when I get married. Because I want to be a vet that doesn't get winded pulling horse shoes and chasing lazy ponies on a lunge line. Most importantly, I need something to attack. I may never be as strong as the top CF ladies (frankly, I don't even like knowing how far from their ability I am), but I will be stronger than yesterday and will be able to throw my children in the air as many times as they want, just to see them smile.


Stronger. That is beautiful in its own way. My close friends that really know what I've been through lately don't understand how I'm able to keep it all together. What they don't see is the tears of anger and frustration I shed in the truck when I'm alone. I do break, but I don't want people to think that I shatter. As a Christian, I feel like non-believers could see my life and say "wow, if that's the misery that comes with Christianity, I want no part of that". But I was reminded by a friend today that the poise and grace I've shown through all of this (his words, not mine), are the greatest testimony of all. Maybe he's right. He usually is...

Life Rolls on

I feel shipwrecked. My family hit an ice storm and we've been scattered in every direction, with nothing left (although "nothing" is a relative term...) I don't know where we'll go from here as a family. I know I have to press on and focus on school because that is my future. I have to protect that at all costs so that I have a chance of avoiding the mistakes I've watched my parents make over the years. But, in that I feel so terribly selfish. There's nothing I can do to fix all the problems at home, but I still feel like I could do something more...

I trained at the Rec this morning early. I'm trying to do this CrossFit thing on my own to avoid pain from the past, but motivation is hard to find. Somehow, when sleep doesn't come and your mind won't shut off, and it takes every corny joke and unspoken cuss word to keep yourself from tearing up, getting up early in the 20F windchill to run, squat, and do burpees seems like a great escape. I hate running because it emphasizes every weak point I have. Cardio, focus, confidence, and the realization that I'm probably the worst runner ever. This morning I ran past a man in his wheelchair, pushing himself hard on the track. Suddenly I was grateful I had the blessing of functional legs that are blessed to burn like fire. I texted my mom and sister after my workout:

"As much as I hate running, the guy in the wheelchair on the track this morning made me grateful I can run. I'm grateful to God that, through all this terrible mess, I can stumble along with you"

Britt's response: "Awww' I'm glad that we have each other too sister. I'm also glad that you have legs :)"

It might feel like the end of the world, but the world is round and its end won't come until its Creator says so. Until then, I'll keep running.

Getting Focused

I have just a few days left before I go back to school.  I'm starting my second semester of my second year of vet school.  It amazes me how fast these semesters fly by, but even more so how quickly the breaks evade me.  I'm excited to push forward for many reasons, but reluctant in some ways, as well.

I feel like everyday I devote to learning more about veterinary medicine brings me closer to an answer to the biggest question in my mind: Where do I fit into all of this and how am I to use my education for God's will and His glory? 

This little guy is the Studybug.  My ex-boyfriend used to call me that when I had to study.  He's always brought a smile to my face when I'm hitting the books hard (which was almost every night last semester, but it paid off with almost a 4.0).  My ex had lots of nicknames for me, and I realize that's a bit childish looking back on it, but at the time, it was a symbol that I belonged to somebody, or better put, that someone wanted to let the world know that I was worth the time and effort he had invested in me.  He was so good to me and he really set the standard high.  I see clearly now that he and I were not meant to be, but that idealism still reigns in my heart today.  That's the problem.

So, as I face another semester of scholastic challenges that will probably challenge my emotions and self-control, as well as my intellect, I find myself wishing I had someone there who will support me as I go through this, even though they can't fully understand what I'm facing.  I'm the tough one in my family and I want to remain strong and self-sufficient, but I'm a traditionalist and a romantic to a fault.  I want someone as strong as me, preferably stronger, to be able to fall to pieces in front of.  No knight on a white horse (they always have manure stains on them, anyway), no dragon slayer, just a strong shoulder and an ear to listen that will want me just as I am.  One that will be honest, and will light up when I enter the room.  One that has my best interest at heart, even when he makes mistakes.  Lord knows I will always make mistakes. 

The challenge this semester will be to not wonder where that guy is.  The challenge will be to continue to pursue fitness and take care of myself in the meantime.  The challenge will be to ignore lonliness and focus on all the blessings in my life.  The challenge is to keep my mind from fearing I will settle for a man like those that have broken my heart in the past; like my father... like MM... I need to stay in the Word and keep reminding myself that God is the Lover of my soul and wants me above all others.  He will sustain me.

Never Thought I'd "Work Out"

So... I never had to work out before because I always rode horses or walked across campus all day, so I could eat pretty much anything I wanted to, and never see any negavtive consequences... These days, not so much. 

First year of vet school really took its toll on me, emotionally, as well as physically.  I gained probably 15 lbs (too chicken to actually weigh in), and had to buy all new jeans at the beginning of the summer.  Nothing fit and I was in denial that anything had even changed.  Once I came to grips with reality, I knew I needed to do something to stop this cycle.  A classmate of mine is married to a CrossFit trainer, and she had mentioned getting some of us together to get a group discount for classes.  I was so embarassed by how I felt about myself that I was hesitant to even ask her about it, but I was still very interested. 

After working hard all summer, I shed a few pounds, but nothing noticable.  My classmate couldn't get enough people to commit, and no class got put together.  I was disappointed because I know I had no idea where to start, and I knew I would need help, as well as motivation.  It's way too easy to give up and I didn't want to let it get even worse.  A friend of mine does CrossFit at a different box and mentioned that, if I was interested, he'd show me some things and help me get started. Well, long story short, I started training with him and I've gotten kind of hooked on it.  They say it's addicting and once you "drink the Kool-Aid" you're done.  I wouldn't say I've gone as far as some CFers I know, but I'm definitely sold on its benefits.

The transition from my school life to my home life was a bit more of a challenge.  My family didn't really understand why I was lifting weights, or why I was running (I hate hate hate running), or why I was using something called a kettlebell... but opposition happens when something new is introduced.  They saw how much stronger and leaner I had become over the past few months and were happy for me, but it took a while for them to understand why I was doing it.  (It didn't help that there was a boy involved.  But if they understood how hard this is for me and how utterly disgusting I look when I'm doing it, much less how unattractive I feel when I fail at it, they might not ask me about my motivations with regards to him). 

When I came home for Christmas break, my car was loaded down with me, my Aussie puppy Abbey Road, my junk, and a brand new 35lb kettle bell, and some loaned out olympic weight bumper plates, some resistance bands, and my jump rope.  If I wanted to keep the progression going in a forward direction, I needed to keep up with this.  My friend has been so gracious to let me borrow these weights, has helped me through difficult transition times, and has provided instruction, critique, encouragement, and answers when I needed them the most.  I am truly thankful for that.  I can't afford to join a box right now, so he has pretty much taken the roll of personal trainer (gag me.  I hate that label, but that's the best way to describe it, I think). 

So, this break, it has been me, my bands, my rope, Mickey (I named the KB since it always looks like Mickey Mouse ears to me; I like yelling at him when I get frustrated), and my ghetto barbell set.  I swing away in the barn aisle way, knocking out burpees in the dirt, slinging hay over my head when I practice double unders, and almost pulled down the stall door doing kips, but it makes me happy.  I like being able to do these things in the privacy of my own home, no lines or muscle men to have to deal with, no worrying about what I look like in front of people, no worries.  The downside is the motivation to meet someone at the gym is not there.  There's no one but myself to let down or break a training date, no one to push me to squat deeper or jump higher.  It's been a good test to see how committed I really am.  Commitment.  Interesting...

This lovely young woman has my heart, and has had it since I was 9 years old when she entered this world.

She's 16 this year, and has grown into the most beautiful, precious, kind-hearted, cherished young lady I've ever had the priviledge of knowing.  She is my neice, Haleigh Noel Wright.  She and her equally precious (but in a rough-and-tumble boy sort of way), 11-year-old brother Hunter Thomas, have been such huge blessings in my and my family's lives.  We have been blessed to watch them grow, see them struggle, be pushed away by them, but through it all they love us as deeply as we love them.  God's love reflected through their eyes.

These beautiful gifts from the Lord have been through Hell.  They had to edure the pain of their parents' divorce after 14 years of marriage, and they suffered greatly (especially Haleigh).  We have been busy with school and work (other non-eternal, temporary distractions), and have seen them very infrequently over the past year or two.  This, coupled with family strife typical of miscommunication and broken hearts shattered on the floor, we have missed out on major aspects of their lives, but no more.  Last night my sister and I took Haleigh to see The Houston Ballet perform The Nutcracker at the Wortham Theater.  We had so much fun getting all dressed up, seeing all the glitter and sparkle of Christmas in the city, and enjoyed being "big girls".  But the most touching part of the evening came when we stopped for dinner on the way. 

We wanted to avoid the crowds, so Haleigh chose the 59 Diner (an old-fashioned 1950's style diner that serves juicy burgers and greasy french fries, with chocolate malts and peach cobbler).  As we sat in the booth, Brittany and I facing this gorgeous young woman who still lovingly calls us BiBi and CiCi, we began to talk about how much we missed her, and she began to tell us how much we had missed.  She has been dealing with the divorce, and more substantially the events that lead to the divorce, much harder than her younger brother.  She's had run ins with the police, done things with boys she regrets, and has been diagnosed with some anxiety disorders and other such labels the world likes to put on children when they can't give them the answers they so desperately need (they need the love of their Heavenly Father). 

As we sat there, crying and holding each others hands, probably completely freaking our poor waitress out, we realized family and God's love is stronger than the wreck of the past.  This girl, her mother, her brother, even her father, they are all children of the same God who sent Christ to live among humans, live a sinless life, and die as the perfect sacrifice for all of our sins, only to raise from the dead and sit at the right hand of God the Father until He returns to take us home.  We need to take comfort in that. 

Why is the past so difficult to leave in the past?  I think partly our human nature hangs onto it as a defense mechanism.  Almost as if we are less likely to repeat past mistakes or let others fail us in the same way if we always hold onto those passed trangressions.  Once bitten, twice shy.  I think there is wisdom to be gained by analyzing the past and making choices based on the lessons learned from those experiences, but remaining bitter about wrongs that have been done to you or those closest to you is only going to debilitate you.  You.  Not the person who wronged you.  The damage has been done, but 90% of the time the wrong doer finds a way to deal with his or her sin, but we can't let it go.  True forgiveness means you walk away from the sin and don't bring it up again.  I see my mom bring the past up daily and I want to shake her sometimes and scream "Just let it go already!"  I don't want to be like that.  I want to forgive like Christ forgave us:

"When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood against us and condemned us; he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross.  And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross." Colossians 2:13-15

So, my Haleigh is on the mend, but it will take time.  It will take mentorship and true love from her family, but mostly from her Father, Jehovah. 

Where do I find me?

I'm home for the Christmas holidays and I've been working for 3
different vets who have become like family to me. The only problem is
that I've been working myself into the ground (as usual). I've had a
hard time even setting aside time to train with CrossFit since I got
back (I made big progress this semester after starting with a friend,
but it's been tough to find the time for myself). Things are not good
at home. This has always been the case, but it seems that every
holiday it's worse. This year it's been more painful to come home than
to be away. It's so hard to see my mom go through the things my dad
has pulled her into, but I feel guilty running away back to school to
escape it. I think I've been working so hard at school & my jobs over
the break just to keep my mind off of things. I've finally realized I
can't fix it, can't even begin to try, and that is tearing me apart.
Friends of mine tell me I have to let family problems go so that I can
move on with my life and build a future for myself. I understand
that, and I agree to a degree, but it's hard to do that without
feeling like I'm abandoning my family.


On a different note, I've been reading James Herriot's All Things Wise
and Wonderful in my limited spare time. Part of me wants to be that
kind of veterinarian: one who treats animals for their owners' sake,
and practices on everything, and is the small-town hero. Part of me
wants to work on horses only, and truly be amazing in that field.
Part of me wants to be a wife/mother and just be excellent at that. I
don't know how any of that will pan out. I want to know now. Like,
yesterday. I want a blueprint. Step-by-step directions. But I want
surprises, spontaneity, adventure, romance. I want to travel. I want
to be loved. I want someone to rescue me, but I want to be strong
enough to carry them when they need it. I guess I want it all. I
don't know if any of that will happen. I sure hope some of it will...
I worry that I'll marry someone like my father and he'll break my
heart the way my dad has done to my mother. I worry I'll never get
married because no one will want to be with a moody girl with a psycho
family. I worry too much.


I just don't know where I find me. I don't know how to let people in,
but not too close. I need to find me, then maybe I can let people in
closer. It just seems like those I allow close end up taking that
priviledge for granted, and I'm the fool in the end. I don't want to
be bitter and angry. I don't want to push people away. I want to love
people. I feel that veterinary medicine is a medium through which I
can share God's love with others. I just need to figure out a
balance. I need to find me.