Time moves fiercely forward. Moments from childhood that seemed to take an eternity to pass are remembered in fleeting glimpses. We dreamed and moved on, perhaps never having the courage and fortitude to pursue the dreams before us. Maybe we were looking too hard for something on the outside, when we should have been looking inside.

As the times of our lives pass by, we learn. We lived through things that should have killed us, and we learned they really did make us stronger. We raised families, pursued degrees, started careers and lived our lives the best we knew how. We laughed. We cried. We won. We lost. 

And, sometimes, we look back at the choices we faced and the decisions we made, and we wish we knew then what we know now because we would have done a better job making plans and choosing our paths. Even so, we take comfort in the knowledge that we did learn, and we seek opportunities to share with others the wisdom we have gleaned.

We find peace in the knowledge we have gained that, whether the decisions we make today or tomorrow turn out to be the right ones, they are the BEST ones because we will either see great success, or we will learn something new and be even wiser in the future. 

And there goes time. Moving fiercely on. 

​I was just listening to the song "Grown Up Christmas List", and, of course, it got me thinking about the things people wish for and want. It's interesting how the list changes as people age. I was recently in a mall, sitting near Santa - and I listened as child after child told him what they wanted for Christmas. It was quite a variety of toys and gifts.

I started thinking about what I want. My kids ask me every year, and I struggle to come up with something material or tangible for them to give me. We live in a country where our material needs and wants are pretty easily gratified. When I take inventory of my possessions, I realize my needs are covered. I don't need more THINGS. 

So, what do I want? What do I need? What do people want and need?

I made a list of what I think:

1. People want to be seen. They want their presence to be acknowledged and to receive a respectful nod when they encounter others. They need eye contact and smiles, affirming appreciation for their presence.

2. People want to be cared about. They need to know that their existence in this world matters, and that somebody will miss them when they are gone.

3. People want to do something that matters. They need to feel like they are contributing to the world in some way. They want to know that somebody's life is different, and better, because of them.

4. People want their pain to be acknowledged. The holiday season is not joyful all the time for everyone.

The "first" everything after a significantly painful loss can feel devestating. I remember when my sister died right before Thanksgiving, I didn't think I would ever smile or laugh again. I was enveloped in a cloud of pain. Everyone around me seemed happy and as if they expected me to just drink in their joy.

I remember one evening I was sitting in a church pew, my heart aching, and a gentleman approached me and said, "I am so sorry about the loss of your sister. It must hurt a lot right now." I needed that, because it did, and it helped to know I wasn't alone. 

5. People need awareness. In order to truly meet the needs of others - people need to be fully present with the human beings around them. Purchasing the perfect gift is not as important as expressing concern and love and acceptance. Serving a meal is important, but serving it in love is what truly impacts the world. 

Those are the things people want and need. If we really want to give gifts that have a lasting impact, we will practice meeting those needs - not just at the holidays, but all the time. 

​How much is too much to give up to pursue a dream? How much time is too much time to sacrifice? How much money is too much to give? I think it all depends on how much it's worth to us. So, it's good to take time to think it all through.

In September, 2012, Sarah and I incorporated The Torch. We had a vision and a plan that was relatively simple. We wanted to feed people. We wanted them to know, that no matter what has happened in their lives, regardless of whose fault it might be - or what choices brought them to where they are - they are still valuable human beings who deserve to be respected and loved, and to have hope in their lives. We wanted our food truck and symbol, The Torch, to represent light during what can be some very dark moments in life. 

Our desire and passion to do this was so strong we gave up our free time activities to pursue the dream. We scraped up money wherever we could get it - if one of us had $10 or $20 or $5 to donate to The Torch, we put it in. When we were tired and discouraged, we dug deep within ourselves, prayed a lot, held our heads high, and continued to push through the struggles.

And then we had a food truck. We brought that baby home right before Winter, and didn't have a clue how to make it work. So, we spent night after night, weekend after weekend working in it and on it, practicing and learning and figuring things out. We cried tears that froze to our cheeks, and discovered endurance we didn't realize we possessed. We clung to our dream, our goal, our hope.

The day finally arrived when we were scheduled to take our food truck out to our very first stop in what was to become one of our regular neighborhoods. We were tense, and our patience and knowledge were stretched as we parked the truck and began to prepare the food. Of course, it started to rain. We looked at each other and said, "What if nobody comes?" But we pushed that thought aside and cooked a meal.

And the people began to come. And come. And come. The rain stopped. The sun came out. All at once, the line at the window had dwindled to a few people - and I looked out over the grassy area and basketball court next to the truck - and I saw lots and lots of people. They were eating, and talking and laughing. A young girl came to the window for seconds and said with a huge smile, "I have never seen the people here come out for anything like this!"

The sweat, the tears, the fears, the sacrifices were all worth it at that moment. We realized one cannot say, "This is how much it is worth to help human beings." There is no price that can be attached to affecting lives and bringing hope.

A lifetime has gone by in the past four years. During that time we realized we could impact lives even more if we were able to get involved on a more personal level than we have with the food truck. A large number of people with disabilities live in poverty. They can be made to feel like they have nothing to contribute to society. 

We realized we could bring hope. We could offer training, and help connect disenfranchised people into our awesome community. And so we launched Torch 180 where we train people who have disabilities to work in the food service industry. We knew it wouldn't be easy. We knew we would be making sacrifices. We didn't realize it would take as long as it has to get our very own building. We've taken a lot of risks along the way. 

So far, without a building of our own, we have trained eight individuals. Six are now working, and two are looking for work. We are working with an additional eight students - and hoping to add another class of up to ten. Meanwhile, we are raising funds to purchase our own space - where we hope to be able to offer our community delicious food and fun and a place where people get together, while continuing to train and impact the lives of human beings we meet. 

We have wept. We have struggled. We have sacrificed. But how much is too much? We know there is no price that is too high to pay to bring hope to the people in this world. 

We are deeply grateful to everyone who has come alongside us and sacrificed and given.
If you would like to help out - you can click this link: ​http://www.torch180.org/180-campaign.html 

How much? That's entirely up to you. :) Thank you in advance!

When people are young and starting out in life, they tend to dream big, and often believe there is nothing they cannot do. They are able to envision a future world in which they achieve their dreams, and the world is a better place because of it. They are often passionately outspoken about the things in the world that they believe are wrong. They want to change it and make it better for themselves and for everyone else.

I think many people I know have been there, and believed that. I did. But, somewhere along the way, we settled. We started to accept the status quo, and believe we really couldn't make a difference. We began to be satisfied with just quietly living our own lives, making our own money, raising our own families, and not getting too involved with everything else that's going on around us. We withdrew our energy and interest from passionately caring about how the world is treating others, and we  settled for making sure we get our piece of the pie, and our family is doing okay. 

It feels like the current election season is part of the settlement we negotiated when we decided to become a society of individuals. If it's good enough for me, it's good enough. If it's good enough for my family, it's good enough. If a few friends are okay with what's going on, it's good enough. If the best possible candidates cannot get on the ballot, it's good enough. As we sit on the sidelines and observe the fray, listen to the campaigning, and try to sort through the VOLUMES of information to find unbiased facts to help us become informed and intelligent participants in this society, it can feel overwhelming. Especially if we don't like what we see, and want real change that benefits us collectively. 

Apathy is the price of accepting such a settlement. It is tempting to withdraw into our individuals homes, shut our individual doors, and concentrate only on ourselves. Our votes don't seem to matter, and people get angry with each other when they disagree. It's so much easier to ignore than to participate. 

But settling for the status quo, becoming more individualistic, and retreating into apathy are not acceptable choices. They are easy choices - and they got us to this point. And getting all enraged and emotional over an election won't fix the problems we face collectively, as a society.

I think we CAN do something. I think we CAN make change, but it's going to take time. And it's not going to come without a cost - and it won't happen because of politics. It will happen because of people. One of the greatest things about America is that grassroots movements can bring about great change. 

We need to figure out how to bring community to our own local communities. We need to make room in our lives for people who are different. We need to try to help people we can help. I'm not talking about buying a Starbucks coffee for the person in line behind you or me. I'm not saying it's wrong to be kind to a stranger, but paying it forward in that way does nothing to build or strengthen our connections to other human beings as human beings. We need to stop and talk to people. Look them in the eye. Figure out a way we can get to know people who are different from us. Try hard to understand why they are what they are, and why they do what they do. 

Connecting. We need to start in our immediate neighborhoods, and see how many connections we can make. If we open our hearts to really caring about other people's lives, we can find ways our community can work together to become more of a community. We should swallow our pride, fear, apathy and whatever else stands in the way, take risks, and try something - a community dinner or picnic, maybe. We should go out of our way to invite people we don't know, and include people who are typically excluded from our circle of friends. 

People respond to love and acceptance. It's time we opened our eyes and our lives to the people around us - and stopped settling for being a society of one - and become a society of millions, connected by our humanity and linked by community and caring brought about by knowing other human beings. It's a big task, but it beats settling for good enough.

We are always talking about dreaming here at the Torch and 180. Sarah and I are big, huge dreamer and often find ourselves contemplating chasing the impossible. Our faith has grown a lot since 2012, when all this started. Some of the most encouraging messages we ever receive are from people who have been inspired and encouraged to step out and try something that they dreamed of doing, but never had before.

But, what happens when the dream doesn't work out? What happens when it all falls apart, and we know we did everything in our power to move it forward? What happens then? Somebody told me one time he admired the things Sarah and I have been doing. He said that he once had an opportunity to follow a dream, but it didn't work out - and so he had missed his chance. I understand he must have felt very discouraged when things fell apart. Things seems to fall apart at Torch and 180 on a pretty regular basis. 

But, the beauty of dreaming is it isn't a one-shot deal, and dreams can take whatever shape we want them to. The Torch dream did not begin as a food truck, and 180 was not a mobile training program. Neither has been easy to achieve - and they wouldn't be where they are if Sarah and I rigidly stuck to what looked like very possible and successful ideas. We try a lot of things, pursue a lot of leads, talk about a TON of  opportunities - and probably 90% of it does not ever pan out into anything successful. 

When that happens, it isn't easy, let me promise you that. We both hate to fail, and we both have a hard time letting go when things don't work out. But we also don't give up on dreaming. If something doesn't work one way, maybe it will work another way. Or maybe, we have to let it go and search for a whole new idea or plan. We find ourselves doing that all the time. 

The thing is, without the ability to dream more dreams and dream different dreams - ideas just remain ideas, and hope grows stagnant. I can't survive in a world where I can't dream and try and fail and try again. Every time I fall down, I get discouraged and often want to quit, but after that passes, I start to wonder what will happen when I get back up again. And again. And again. And the most unexpected things happen at the most unexpected times. They always have. They always will. Nothing can stop dreamers from dreaming. Don't let anything stop YOU. 

Get out there and exercise your ability to dream. 

Where were you when it happened? I know you remember. Everyone does. Do you remember how you felt as the news accounts revealed the horror of the 9/11 attacks for the very first time? Did you go numb as the day progressed, and it was the only thing anyone could talk about? Did you feel incredibly sad, and burdened by the realization that things would never be the same again? Did you wonder what you could do, as a member of the human race, to try to fix things? To do something? 

For me, it is yes to all of the above. I know it is yes for most of the people I know. My co-founder, Sarah, wanted to joined the military to protect the country she loved. Many others did the same. I couldn't, I wasn't at all qualified or even at a place in my life where I could go and do that, and I felt so darned helpless. But I did pray. I prayed hard and long for people I didn't even know. I prayed for my country. I prayed for our leadership. I prayed for the families who lost loved ones. I even prayed for those who committed the crimes. 

I wanted to understand. I realized I had been living in a bubble - and it was one in which I just assumed the United States was a blessed nation above all others. I assumed we could never be touched by such atrocities. And because I assumed that, I never gave much thought to those in the world who constantly lived with such threats. It didn't affect me, so I didn't think about it. 

But I changed on 9/11/2001. The attacks on our country were wrong in every sense of the word. Innocent people died by the scores and innocent families were scarred for life. I had a choice to make that day. I could turn off the television and put walls around my heart so it wouldn't affect me. After all, I didn't personally know anyone who died - so I could, essentially continue life unchanged.

Or, I could open my heart and mind to the world around me. I could allow myself to experience pain on a level I hadn't done before. I could allow myself to be affected as a member of the human race. And that's what I chose. I cried tears for people I didn't know, and I found a new depth of compassion for my fellow human beings that I had never explored before. 

I began to be affected by what I read in the news. I could no longer read or watch stories of innocent people who die anywhere in the world without feeling an ache in my heart, without wondering about their families, their lives, their hopes, their dreams. 

My heart changed. My prayer life changed. My apathy is gone. I realized the most powerful thing I can do is to love more, to reach out to the people who come into my life and do my best to show them that they matter. I can listen more. I can appreciate and pray more for those who stepped up to defend this country. I can make the effort to connect with all kinds of people and let them know I care. I can let them know God cares. 

9/11/2001 changed who I am.

​Did it change you? 

I was so frustrated today when I couldn't find all the items on my list at Meijer. I thought they were supposed to have everything? I bought the things they did have, and decided to go to Target for the rest. I was annoyed, because I had so much to do - and I was in a hurry!

As I got into my car, I decided I would stop at my PO Box on the way to Target. I was completely absorbed in mentally checking off items on my to-do list as I waited to exit the parking lot. Then, as I looked to my right, to see if it was safe to pull out onto the road, I saw a man sitting on a walker, with a cardboard sign indicating he was hungry and a homeless veteran.

I noted him, and pulled out, turning left to continue on to the post office. But he was on my mind, and I thought maybe I should turn around. I began to recite all the tasks I needed to do. And I reminded myself how far behind I was. And how inconvenient the trip to Target was for me. I began to rationalize about how I had spent so much time the past week helping other people, and how much I needed to do yet this weekend to get ready to help more people next week. I reminded myself he was just one man, compared to the hundreds we were helping at The Torch, and other people could help him. 

I left the post office, and my car drove me back to the Meijer parking lot. I parked and got out, walking toward the man. When I reached him, I was immediately struck by his very deep blue eyes. He watched me approach, and looked surprised when I stuck out my hand and said, "Hi, I'm Rhonda, what's your name?"

"Fig", he answered with a smile. 

"Fig?" I asked- "what's your last name?"

"Newton", he said, smiling bigger. 

I have to admit, it took me a minute to put it together. Then I laughed and asked if Fig Newton was really his name. He said it was a nickname he had since he was 15 and that it bothered him then, but now he likes it because his real name is James, and that is very common. He said he had only met one other Fig Newton in his life. 

I asked him to tell me his story - and Fig Newton told me he had been in the Army in the late fifties and early sixties. He then spent forty-nine years working the carnival circuit. He said it was a good life, that he never went hungry, and he and his wife raised a daughter in carnivals - and doing a multitude of odd jobs during the winter months. He said he worked until he was 72 years old, and his body just couldn't take it anymore. 

For an hour I visited with Fig. He told me repeatedly how blessed his life has been. He explained that his wife died from cancer seven years ago, and that he lives in a tent inside a barn. He told me how grateful he is to the people who allow him to do that, and how he does what he can to pay them back. And he told me about how thankful he is for the VA, because he has had multiple surgeries - and that he is glad he only needs a walker because a wheelchair would make life really difficult for him. 

He told me that he had a heart attack and died.

He said he saw himself laying down and then he was moving toward a glowing aura. He never believed in such a thing, although he believed in God, but now he said he saw it, and he isn't afraid of what comes after this life. He told me, with tears in his eyes, "I'm not afraid of what's on the other side. Who knows? Maybe I will get to see my parents again."

And that's when I began to cry.

I wasn't talking to a homeless beggar. I was talking to a human being. Fig is a person with a history and a future. I asked him if people are mean to him when he sits begging. He said for the most part, no, but sometimes people will drive by and yell, "GET A JOB!" 

When that happens, he thinks, I'm 72 years old. I can't work. I did have a job. I worked for 49 years.

But he amiably acknowledged that people don't know that. And he is absolutely right. People don't know it, and they don't acknowledge it. He worked in carnivals for all those years. People who tell him to get a job probably go to carnivals. Somebody has to run the rides. But it's a job that has no benefits. No retirement. No security. We want people to do those jobs, but we don't give a thought to the position it puts them in. They are just supposed to disappear when they can't work anymore, I guess.

In my silly arrogance I thought I would stop and help a beggar on the side of the road. Instead, a man who has lived a "full and blessed" life talked with me for an hour - and touched my heart in a major way.

Every morning, Fig says a prayer: 

"There are those who will, those who can't, and those who won't. God, please bless those who will."

​

When I was a mean little sister - I would try to antagonize my older sister, Lisa. One day, I found a taunt that sent her running into the house crying. I was chanting over and over again, "Lisa, pizza, Lisa, pizza...", and laughing at how upset she became. I remember feeling quite taken aback when she soon came outside and said, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." Suddenly, in the face of a poem such as that, my "Lisa pizza" teasing felt flat and deflated - and it worked, I stopped saying it.

I was five. 

Through the years, as I was growing up, I found myself facing many situations in which I would repeat that small poem over and over again. The reality, though, is that in spite of the fact hearing it worked to stop my kindergarten teasing - it isn't true for every situation. Sometimes words cut deep and hurt so profoundly we find ourselves feeling like we will never recover from the pain they inflict. And sometimes they humiliate and embarrass people so much that whatever fragile self-esteem they have crumbles into nothing.

Our world is more filled with words now than ever before. People who would never read an entire book can sit for hours reading Facebook posts and following Twitter feeds. We absorb words and messages at a rate unlike anything we have ever done in the past. And we have 24/7 access to people we may never even have to face. That seems to make it easier to fight and argue and say mean things that do nothing to build people up, and a whole lot to tear them down. 

I can't say how often I have seen couples or siblings or people on opposite sides of the political scene, or even friends, fighting online. Sometimes their words are so hateful and derogatory, it makes me cringe. Rumors that destroy others are started, fueled and spread quickly through the use of words on social media. The more astonishing, shocking and hurtful they sound, the more quick people tend to be to share them.

Let's face it, it's much easier to hide behind a computer or cell phone and insult someone else than it is to confront them and discuss issues face to face. To say that words can never hurt me is more untrue in this society than ever before. They can hurt. They can devastate. Many of the words out there in cyberspace could be eliminated and there would be less pain in the world. 

And the poem needs to change, maybe to something like: Sticks and stones may break my bones, and words can certainly hurt me.

Just to remind us to use our words to heal. 

So, in case you didn't notice, this is an election year. In light of the fact that the news has been filled with reports from both major parties' national conventions, I guess you would have to be living in a cave not to be aware. I like election years. Have you ever thought about what an amazing privilege we have to participate in influencing the future of our country through voting? 

It's amazing. We can form our opinions and cast our votes without fear of retribution or condemnation from our government. Not always without fear of retribution and insults from friends or family, I'm afraid, but even that is one more amazing and great part of being a citizen of this society. We are allowed to think differently. We are allowed to have opinions about how our COUNTRY - the United States of America - is run, and they don't have to be the same as anyone else's! How awesome and special is that?

Do you feel the solemn responsibility that goes along with such a privilege? Contemplating these big thoughts made me feel like this would be a good time to tell you how to vote. Nobody ever really told me how to vote before, so consider this a service from me to you. I remember the very first time I went to the polls when I was 18 years old. I was so excited, and nervous. After I sat down and felt confident I understood how to mark my ballot, I realized I hadn't heard of most of the people or proposals that were listed! I freaked out! It had not occurred to me that I might want to gather some information before I went to the polls. 

Those are both significant parts of knowing how to vote - first, make sure you view it as the awesome responsibility and privilege it is, and then, educate yourself about what you will be voting for. There are some steps to this process:

1. Take time to think about all the different issues we face in our world and as a society, both local and national. Really contemplate them, and make a list of the issues that make you feel the most concerned - and those that are very clearly hot topics for the election season. 

2. After you know what your concerns are - start doing some research on those issues. Read whatever you can find about them - gather all the information you can. Find out what people are saying from all different perspectives. Think about what they are saying. Consider them in light of the world as you know it. Question them. How would certain policies affect you? How would they affect the people in your life? Those in our society? The world? Think it all through - and figure out for YOURSELF, based on YOUR research, what you think and believe.

3. Think about the candidates who are running. Research them. Read literature from their own parties and from other parties. Try to pick out how they are being spun. Look at their experiences, history, accomplishments, things they have done throughout the years that were newsworthy. Find out how their beliefs line up with yours. Remember, there are more people who are running for offices or positions than just the president. Research all those who pertain to where you live. 

4. Record what you find out. Write all the issues down - and what you think about them. Write what you discover about the candidates. Think some more as you decide how you will vote. 

5. Make a list of how you will vote on all the different issues and in all the races. Take it with you to the polls so you don't forget or get bogged down. 

And there you have it! In order to vote, you have to know what you value, educate yourself, research, and apply your critical thinking skills. It might seem like a lot of work, but when you consider the enormous responsibility and privilege it is to vote, it really isn't. 

That's how to vote. Exactly what you thought this blog would be about, right? I mean, I did say "how to vote", not "who to vote for"...

Happy Election Season!!!

My second beautiful and perfect grand daughter was born last week. I just love those two little girls so much. My older grand daughter is eight months old, and during these past months I have realized a lot of things about being a grandparent and being a parent.

For one thing, I am glad I am not parenting these girls in the society we live in today. So much about this world makes it really difficult to use the "N" word with children. And I don't mean the racist "N" word. THAT'S just plain old hate-filled ignorance, and the word should be obliterated from our vocabulary - another blog, another time. I'm talking about the "N" word that is spelled N-O. Yes. That one.

We live in a permissive society in which parents often don't seem to feel comfortable telling their children "no". I never had that problem. I used every form of it - no you can't, no you won't, no I won't let you, nope, uh-uh, ain't gonna happen and etc..

I watched a mom in a store earlier today, struggling with a youngster who was grabbing things off the shelf and putting them in her basket. Instead of telling him no, she was trying to sneak the items back out and put them on a shelf. I'm guessing she didn't want to put up with the ensuing fit if she had stopped him in his tracks with the "N" word.

My eight month old grand daughter is getting to the age where she will need to hear that word. Possibly a lot. She is a little sweetie, but she also has a mind of her own - and that means when she is told no she is not going to like it one bit. And she will likely be very vocal about her disapproval. But even if she is vocal and gets mad and throws embarrassing fits, we will all still need to stand our ground and make sure no means no. 

Seriously, the world is full of "nos". And if children don't learn how to accept them and move on when they are young, how will they cope when they are grown? When I was looking for a job a few years ago, I had a lot of interviews, and I was rejected repeatedly. Yes, there were times it made me cry in frustration, and it often felt unfair and like I was being discriminated against - but in the end I accepted the nos and moved on to the next opportunity. What I ended up with was far better than any of the previous jobs. And I was  also a much stronger person for working through my disappointment. 

There are a lot of things kids don't need. They don't have to try every new Oreo that comes out. They don't need televisions in their rooms. They don't need a cell phone until they are old enough to drive. Yup. You heard that right. It's okay to say no to that. Well, not really in our society. Middle schoolers and younger have cell phones now, but that doesn't make it right.

Only one of my four children got a cell phone in middle school. I was completely against it, but I got outvoted 2 to 1, and that child got a cell phone. A week after the cell phone was in the child's possession - I saw a text from a person of the opposite sex - it said, "I love you." My child had responded, "I love you, too." 

I called my child to me and said, "No. No, you don't love somebody of the opposite sex at 12 years old. It isn't possible for you to experience the range of emotions and commitment that goes along with loving somebody. So, no, you don't. You must end that relationship." 

And that child did, unhappily. And life went on. 

I could never have parented my kids without the "N" word at my disposal. 

Let's hear it for NO!!!!!!!

It isn't easy to live a life of truth and honesty, especially in this society. For one thing, people seem to be afraid to admit there is such a thing as truth. We seem to pretend that anything can be true as long as someone wants it to be. But, the reality is there are certain things that are true and honest and should be acknowledged. 

One thing that is true is that all people matter. If we are honest, we don't always act like we believe that. Nor do we treat people like that is a truth. Sometimes, we assume we are better than other people, which is not true. We are different, but not better. Sometimes we assume other people are better than us. Also not true. Others might be better at some things, but that doesn't make them better people. And it doesn't make them matter more. All people matter. Period. Inarguable truth. 

Another true and honest fact is that sometimes humans make mistakes. Sometimes people are wrong. Sometimes I am wrong. Sometimes you are wrong. That's the truth. We tend to not make allowances for that. We can be way too hard on others and way too hard on ourselves. I think that fosters a fear of being wrong, and people lie in order to save face. It's not a safe society in which to make a mistake. It's not easy to live out that truth.

It is also true that we need community. We need other people in our lives. But we have become conditioned to staying behind closed doors and windows. We tell ourselves it is enough to concern ourselves only with our families, co-workers, and maybe some friends - and we have convinced ourselves what happens to the rest of the people around us does not affect our lives. Not true. What happens to other people in this society affects our lives, even if we pretend it doesn't. When people are isolated or bullied or hurting or lonely, they can be driven to do crazy things to themselves or others. And every time we ignore our community, we erode our society a little bit more. 

And that's the last thing this society needs. 


​

​

In 2012, Sarah and I made a choice. It was a significant choice that would change our lives forever, although we didn't fully realize it at the time. In 2012, we chose to start the Torch. When we started the Torch there were more odds against us than for us. I had only recently filed bankruptcy and my self esteem was nowhere to be found. Sarah was still unemployed, although she was going to school and working hard to complete her education. Both of us had been homeless just a year and a half before.

So, we made the choice to launch the Torch even though so many things indicated we would not, could not, succeed. We chose to do it because it felt right to us. It was time to take a leap of faith, after all, when you have nothing to offer - faith is everything. We sent in our incorporation paperwork, and applied for the nonprofit status. In an amazing two months, both were completed and accepted and the Torch was officially born.

Throughout the past few years we have occasionally doubted our sanity for making the choice. We have cried buckets of tears, had seriously painful disagreements, and been told repeatedly that our plan just won't work. Our support from others has been up and down. We have been criticized for everything from our food to how we utilize our helpers. 

I have nearly knocked myself out when I banged my head on the gas can holder on the back of the truck. Sarah has been burned repeatedly on the grill. We have been bumped and bruised and torn. But we made the choice to do this, and we own that. And even though it sometimes feels like the dumbest choice ever, we know in our hearts it wasn't.

Because in the midst of the chaos and hurts there have been the most amazing highs we have ever known. Huge donations have come in that encouraged and lifted us. People have thanked us and, even better, told us that we bring hope. We have discovered how to help form community, and how, even though we didn't bring much to the table, our lives could make a difference. And we can stand tall and tell others that their lives can make a difference as well.

We have met amazingly wonderful, helpful people during this adventure. We have learned how important it is to always get back up when we get knocked down. We have discovered resilience, strength and wisdom we didn't know we had. We have learned how to keep a propane tank going, and how to run a generator. We have also learned how to ask for help when we need it - that one is kindof difficult. 

I know sometimes running the Torch and 180 feels a bit overwhelming, but those times pass, and life is good. If you ever find yourself at a crossroads and you have a choice to make about following a dream - no matter how impossible it might seem - give it a go. Although it might get difficult and discouraging, it can also be amazing and wonderful. The Torch is a choice I am so glad we made.