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My silver lining



I'm a dreamer but the weirdest kind. I dream about the mundane pieces of life. For instance (and this drives my fiancé crazy), I have my Zillow notifications on and will drop everything to look at a newly available house in an area that we absolutely cannot afford just so I can pretend it is an option. Scrolling through the photos on the listing, I will design and lay out each room, designating its purpose. I will make remodeling plans, investigate landscaping needs, and ensure there is plenty of room for the future. It's psychotic but fun.


I do this with other areas of my life, too. Just this weekend, I came up with an oatmeal cookie recipe just lying in bed before falling asleep. I tried it out the next day, and Y'ALL... they were incredible. Maybe I'm a cookie prophet?


As a career-driven person, I certainly dream about my professional life and where I would like to be in 20 years, and this includes goals and plans to expand the 118 Foundation. But of late, God has been redirecting my mind from peering into the future of the Foundation to reflecting on its origin and how He has blessed this project over the past year—and the picture of the past He has painted is beautiful.


 

As my pastor wrapped up his sermon a couple of Sundays ago, I flipped back through my notebook, for no particular reason, really. I flipped past written prayers, sermon notes, and chicken-scratch math. But then, my thumb landed on a special masterpiece about a quarter of the way through the notebook: a blueprint for the 118 Foundation, which I jotted down almost a year to the day earlier. My reaction to coming across this journal entry was odd (or at least for me.) I didn't tear up (I know you're shocked). I didn't smile. I didn't dissect everything wrong with my first draft and how it changed. I just read it like it was a story. And then through the time of reflection and walking to the car, I pieced the story together, adding chapters, walking through mistakes, and celebrating wins. I have been so caught up in the current and future success of the Foundation—the next fundraiser, updating the website, refining processes, getting grants out the door—that I forgot that this non-profit was once a God-sent idea on a piece of paper.


I've never shared the full story of how 118 came about on this blog, and I'm a bit embarrassed by that because I am proud of how God orchestrated its genesis—and humbled that He chose me to be a part of it.


This idea was first floated in March of 2022. I was halfway through treatment and at the peak of kicking cancer's booty. Brandon and I decided to attend Waterfront Church DC's discipleship conference. Brandon was a new believer, and, oddly enough, the dad of a former Minnesota Viking player was one of the speakers. If you know Brandon, this was a big deal. I went in with no expectations. If I can be honest here, any chance I could walk into a public or social setting and not feel like I was being stared at because I so glaringly had cancer... I took the chance. And church was always a safe haven for me during treatment. I'm pretty sure I could have pranced in that building flaunting my Mr. Clean bald head and no one would have batted an eye. Needless to say, we went in expecting nothing and came out with a lengthy to-do list.


This conference focused on your calling outside of your job or earthly calling, reiterating that we all have skills and gifts that should be used for the Kingdom. All-in-all, it was a great message. But... I had cancer, y'all. I had already been pinned God's toughest soldier. What the heck else did I need to do? What else could I possibly do in this state? I'm laughing while typing this because MAN did He put me to work—during AND after treatment. If you have a pulse, God can still use you!


During one of the last sessions, I didn't pay attention to the speaker at all. I wasn't trying to be a bad student: My wheels were turning. I began to plot out the Foundation, even down to the smallest of details and ideas of programs and projects we would create. My mind couldn't stop. At the end, we were to talk with our group about what plans we believed God wanted us to execute. I sat in my group, which was composed of now two of my board members, and kept my mouth shut as long as I could. And right before we reconvened, I spilled the tea. I was about to boil over.


I won't tell Brandon's story and what God laid on His heart, but on my end, I felt like if I didn't do or say something about this idea God plopped in my head, I was going to explode. Side note for all my spiritual brothers and sisters: If you have this feeling, it's probably the Holy Spirit telling you to get your butt into gear and do the thing laid on your heart.


They ended the session by encouraging everyone to take the first step in accomplishing this newfound mission—even if it was just a simple phone call. I knew exactly what my first step was—I had a particular church leader in mind that I needed to get coffee with.


Fast forward a couple of weeks, we got that cup of coffee. But, between that time and the conference, I was a bit worn down. How the heck was I supposed to start a Foundation that provides financial assistance when I myself had a mound of medical bills? I should be using my free time to make a profit not make a non-profit! Post-treatment, I was about to become Uber's next top driver! God knew that. God knew the financial pressure I was under. He wanted to take care of me, too. The first thing this person did when I sat down was hand me a $2,500 check from an anonymous source to use for whatever I needed. I no longer had any excuses. God had put my anxiety to bed, and it was time to get to work.


The next weekend—Easter weekend (and a weekend following treatment)—I went to Best Buy and used that money to buy a new laptop to begin building the Foundation. My 5,000-year-old MacBook Air was so worn out that I couldn't even download Microsoft Office on it. You couldn't create a Word document on that machine, let alone a charity. Normally, I would have been glued to my bed after treatment, but God gave me a dose (maybe an overdose) of strength that weekend to be able to go to Brandon's first Easter service as a believer and to start plotting out the Foundation.


From there on out, God poured provision over this project. Donors, volunteers, and wise counsel surrounded me. And on January 18, 2024, we publicly launched and began serving young people overcoming cancer. 1.18.24. Ring a bell? Check the homepage if you're missing it. Only God could have orchestrated that.


And that's chapter 1 of the 118 Foundation, written by God.


 

As I reflect on the past year, I am filled with such peace. God's timing and provision were perfect. During one of the weakest points of my life, God sharpened my mind and strengthened my body to accomplish one of the toughest undertakings I may ever do in this life. Building is hard. Plain and simple. And for God to choose me to become lead engineer at a time when I could barely carry a conversation without losing my words was nothing short of a miracle, y'all. I firmly believe that God gave me this idea to give me purpose in my pain, and at that point, I needed a silver lining. The Foundation was—and still is—my silver lining.

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