Legacy

I want to leave a legacy,

How will they remember me?

Did I choose to love?

Did I point to you enough?

To make a mark on things

I want to leave an offering

A child of mercy and grace

Who blessed your name unapologetically

And leave that kind of legacy.

- Nichole Nordeman "Legacy"

I never knew my great-grandmother Elizabeth. I mean, sure I was given her name as my middle name at birth. I've heard stories about her from my mama and my grandma.

"My mother was a very hard worker and made sure everyone knew how to do their work well. She fixed nutritious meals, kept home running and prayed to our Heavenly Father every morning and every night. She was very devoted and learned young to stick with anything she needed to take care of. She wanted us to know that we could be healthy and happy if we just trust the Lord and she was right. She would thank the Lord for everything and then make whatever plea she had at that time. After that, she would go into praying for the President and everyone who have the rule over us down from there, including church officials. From there she would pray for her neighbors, her brothers and sisters, then she would cover all of her children and grandchildren (even the ones that were yet unborn). It was wonderful to hear her pray."

Grandma Elizabeth lived to be NINETY years old...and she went to be with the Lord in September of 1990, two months after I was born.

This is the closest thing I have to a picture with her- a picture of my mama holding me at her funeral.

Late last year, her bible came into my possession. It has since become one of my most treasured possessions. As I flip through the pages and discover the Wednesday night supper sign ups, the slips of paper with verses written on them, the verses underlined and dated from sermons back in 1971- it is almost as if I'm beginning to meet my great grandmother for the first time. Reading the verses that she wrote at the back of her well-worn bible makes it almost seem as if she is here with me offering me wisdom (that's the awesome thing about the Word- it's timeless. It was good and what she needed to hear back in the day, and it is STILL GOOD and STILL what I need to hear today). I even found a flower doodle in a margin- maybe that's where I get that from when my mind wanders. :)

It made me start to think though- what kind of legacy am I leaving for my daughter, my granddaughter, my great-granddaughter? Will she find my Bible someday and toss it aside as trash or will she pick it up and cherish the words held within? Will she find a well worn, well read book, or will she find one that hardly looks touched, never removed from the shelf, because I was too busy today, or because I forgot to bring it to church...or even worse...we got too busy and we didn't even make it to church. Will there be prayer requests scribbled in the margins or will prayer be a forgotten thing in my life and an unknown in hers? 

Where I am today is not where I have to be tomorrow in this- and where I am tomorrow isn't where I have to be a year from now or how my descendants will remember me. As a mom of a high needs toddler, I offer myself grace in these areas and how they have been in the past, but that doesn't mean that there doesn't need to be a change in routine. Today, I picked up the worn pages of my great grandmother's bible and started again. Legacies aren't made overnight, but small changes can have eternal impacts for generations to come. Here's to 2018 being a year of getting back into the Word and learning how to be a woman like Elizabeth.

late night ramblings

to the one who feels like she should have spoken louder
she should have said no more clearly
who still holds a slight belief
that it might have been
her fault
who stands in the shower years later trying to wash away
the shame
trying to feel clean
even though the clean feeling
it never comes
and she's left feeling
dirty
why can't she get over it
why can't she just move on and believe that
she is more than what once happened
i hear you. i am you.

to the wife who cringes at her husband's touch
who never knows when
that feeling from the past
will come back and take over
and the fear will make her cower away
and then the shame comes in
and she's left crying and feeling
guilty and alone
like she'll never be enough
it isn't his fault
he deserves better
she doesn't love herself
so how could he possibly love her
why can't she get over it
why can't the past be the past
why can't she move on and trust
and believe that the love is real
i hear you. i am you.

to the mother that desperately wants children
but dreads the exams
and the birth of childbirth
who cringes at the feeling of her newborn being laid on her chest
that just wants it off
wasn't nine months enough
my body
my body
the one who chooses not to breastfeed because she can't stand
not being in control
having no control over her body
letting another human grab at her as it pleases
feeling helpless again
why can't she just get over it
why can't she just move on and nourish her child
rather than feeling the guilt
that she can't do the one thing she was created to do
i hear you. i am you.

for the one that enters the doors of the church
the place she has always called her home
to do the the thing she loves
only to be told that she's a risk
that because of the thing that once was done
not by her choice
she can't fulfill her calling
suddenly the sanctuary doesn't seem so safe anymore
suddenly the cross seems more like a wall than a bridge
suddenly everything changes and
who can she even trust anymore
why can't she just get over it
why can't she just move on with her life and follow her dreams
rather than feeling marked and dirty sitting in the back row
she slips out
nobody notices
maybe its easier to walk alone when you're broken
i hear you. i am you.

Expectation vs. Reality

Sometimes I look at my life and I think "WOW. This has turned out nothing like I expected!". Some days, that's a good thing. Some days that's a bad thing.

I'm coming up on five years since I graduated college, and with that comes a lot of emotions. It's been since I last held a "job", since I was diagnosed with an eating disorder, since I went to treatment for the first time, since I was "supposed" to go to grad school...

I think had you asked the girl in the picture above where she would be in five years, it might involve being a social worker, working in the foster care/adoption field. She might think that she'd be married...maybe just engaged. Possibly a baby. Probably still living in Alabama. She'd probably tell you that she'd be *completely* recovered and have a healthy relationship with food and body image (though she'd probably also tell you that she's weight restored right now and would weigh 115 pounds for the rest of her life, thank you very much...*cough*not happening*cough*).

Last week while visiting my parents, I took my little girl down to that same patch of grass and thought about all of the memories that had happened in that park- and I thought of the picture that I posted above. I thought about what five-year-ago-me might think if she met today-me. I think that she'd laugh. I think that she'd cry (happy and sad cries). Today, I live roughly 830 miles from home. I haven't been to grad school...haven't had another job. I've come to realize that complete recovery from this monster of an eating disorder isn't as easy as I once thought, it's far more ingrained in my brain. Further recovery and pregnancy have brought many more pounds to my body, which messes with my body image, but I am far healthier (and I have an adorable child). But...it's not all sad. I'm happily married to a man that loves me (and my body) more than I could ever imagine. I'm married to the One who makes me laugh and brings me more joy than I thought existed. I'm married to my soulmate, the one who has already in the three short years we have been together, loved me in sickness and health, for better or for worse, and has never left me. I have a daughter who shows me the meaning of wonder on a daily basis, who gives the best slobbery kisses, and who melts my heart when she calls me Mama.

In the end, is it really all that bad that life didn't turn out how I had planned? Is it possible that even though there are still struggles, my life might actually be better than I had planned? 

Jeremiah 29:11 says,

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

I've read this verse for years. I mean, I think it's on every single Christian graduation present out there. It's everywhere. I've always read it looking forward, looking out- but today, I'm reading it backwards, because it has been fulfilled in my life. I've always read it to mean that God has a plan for my future, even when things seem dark at this moment. I've read it that there is a future hope. But today, looking back at the last five years, I feel like I have made it into the hope and future. There were days in the last five years when I prayed that I wouldn't wake up in the morning, I was tired of fighting the battles within. But, God had a plan for my life- a plan wilder and crazier than I could have ever dreamed of. A plan involving a kilt-wearing man showing up at Cici's for a first date and end up in an engagement a month later, a wedding six months later, and a baby a year after that. A plan that would involve not just one move away from Alabama, but two moves in the first two years of our marriage. A plan that showed just how great and mighty God is, that He could use me in my darkest moments, bring light into the darkness, and bring me into a season of hope- a future. Five years ago, I might have read that verse to mean that God had a career or ministry in mind for me- but today, I look at that verse and I see my life. I see that the journey to get to this point may have been very painful, but we (me + God) survived.

So, five-year-ago-me, throw away that color coded Excel spreadsheet plan of your life. God is laughing at you right now, oh ye of little faith. He's got something so much bigger and so much better in store for you- you just wait!

And today-me? You do the same thing. God isn't through with you yet. Are the struggles gone? Is your life over? Then, neither is this journey. You've got another seventy-five years in you at least, I'd guess (my people like living really, really old, okay?)- let God lead the way and see where He takes you. Maybe there's something bigger, just waiting right around the corner.

A New Name

Ever since my daughter was born, I knew that she'd be a fighter, a stubborn fighter.

At the end of my pregnancy when I began having blood pressure issues, my doctor warned me that there was a good chance that if we couldn't hold off on labor that S would be spending time in the NICU. Simply put, I was 35+5 when I was induced and they said she was a tiny baby with immature lungs. When she came out gray and alien-like, I was afraid, worried, concerned. She made no noise, no sound. After sitting under the warmer and being coddled by the nurses for a few minutes though, her APGAR scores improved, it seemed like the steroid shots had worked, and we avoided a NICU stay.

Less than an hour old

I learned very early on that she was stubborn. She cried constantly. The doctors said it was because she was a preemie, because her formula was upsetting her tummy, because she had colic. She wanted to be held constantly (which meant that we've invested in many baby carriers). She had to sleep at a specific angle or she wouldn't sleep. She loved being swaddled. She had a certain way that she wanted things done- and she'd let you know when you weren't doing things "right".

4 months old

Don't get me wrong, I love my daughter- she just frustrated me sometimes. I knew that we were blessed to have a baby that would sleep in her own room and mostly slept through the night at a month old, but that didn't always help when she spent the entire day screaming and screeching and I felt completely helpless. I isolated and hid away. We didn't go to church because I was afraid that she'd scream the whole time. We didn't get a babysitter because I was afraid they might shake her, as we had learned to walk away when these thoughts began to arise. I struggled massively with anxiety and depression as my postpartum hormones still tried to find their way back to how they were pre-pregnancy. I felt like a failure as a mom. Most days, I wanted to be anywhere BUT with her- because the screaming and the crying and the screeching seemed to never end until bedtime. We had some happy moments, some smiles and giggles- but Year One was rough. The Fussy Baby Site and it's Facebook groups were some of my greatest support- they made me feel like I wasn't alone. It wasn't my fault that I had a fussy baby- it wasn't my fault for taking antidepressants during my pregnancy or for the anxiety, or for struggling and thinking that motherhood was hard. Simply put, S was the way she was because that was the way that God had created her- extra sensitive- and that was okay.

After a year of dialectical thinking (that this motherhood thing IS hard AND it was okay to be that way), we reached S's first birthday. It was a hard day. The movers were packing up our things to send ahead to Maryland, my kid was a year old, and in a lot of way- it didn't feel like things were better. Sure- she was crawling FINALLY, she was starting to use words sometimes, and was starting to become a little person- but I was still unhappy. Being a mom wasn't anything like I had planned. I was mourning the loss of the child that I had always imagined that S would be like. I was grieving the way that the first year had gone, the loss of an innocent dream of childhood that having a baby would be magical. Newsflash- it wasn't. 

First birthday

I realized that I had a choice. I could choose to keep being sad about the way that things were, or I could change my expectations. I could keep believing that S would eventually be a "normal baby" and everything would turn out "the way it should" OR I could let go of that ideal and embrace the idea that God made S extra special, unique, and that He made her this was for a reason and a purpose that would be revealed someday (even if it wasn't today). I decided to take a chance and try the second option. After all, I'd spent the entire first year upset about things, would it really hurt to try a new approach? With this new approach, I decided that it was a time for a new beginning. We were moving to a new state where we'd be with all new people that didn't know how S's first year had gone or what our background was, or what we've been through individually and as a family. And with this choice, we gave our child a new name.

Some of you may be curious why I've suddenly stopped referring to "S" as "SC" or "Sarah Claire". Simply put, it's because we no longer call her Sarah Claire, or even Sarah, for that matter. Are they beautiful names? YES! But to be perfectly honest, I had hesitations about her name since she was first born and people asked if she was Sarah with an A or an H. It's one of those crazy pet peeves of mine. But, by that time, the birth certificate had been filled out and I didn't feel like I had a choice in the matter. After all, we had such a hard time coming up with a name that we liked, and WHAT kind of parent decides to change their kid's name after they're born and everything formal is already done?! (If you were wondering, it's something like 1 in 5). "Sarah" is a hard name for nicknames as it's already pretty short, but I didn't want to have to legally change her name. A few internet searches later, and I found out that "Sadie" is a nickname of Sarah. I loved the name Sadie (it was a name that I considered for future children until I found out the nickname status), and T agreed to give it a try. We tried it out secretly for a few weeks (calling her it while we were home, or when we were introducing her to other people that we'd never see again), and then- we just did it. When we moved to Maryland, we started introducing her as Sadie, we told our families that it was her name now (or at least I THINK we've told all of our families....surprise if you didn't know!). And honestly, it fits her. It's got the right amount of spunk for our rambunctious kiddo. I love the fact that it's short and not a double name (which is just too much work to call out 24/7 to a high needs baby). And...as silly as it sounds, it makes me love my kid even more, because there isn't the trauma from the first year associated with it (is that bad to say...because I'm still going to say it because I'm being honest and true here and it has been a struggle to love at times). Now that we've been in MD for almost two months and we are starting to make friends that are slightly confused by my Facebook calling "Sadie" "Sarah", I felt like it was time to make an announcement- even if it did seem slightly awkward. Hey- at least I can call Sadie by her name now without weird questions!

Are our high needs issues over? Nope. They aren't. We still have rough days most days. I still am afraid to leave her with a babysitter and she still cries her way through service on Sunday mornings so we struggle to decide to go to church. She now throws tantrums and is currently refusing to use any of the words she knows. She's strong willed and stubborn AND that's okay. We can work on these things as she gets older- and now that I've started to accept that this IS what it is...things are going better most days. I'm anxious, but I'm not as anxious. I'm depressed, but I'm not as depressed. Progress, not perfection...right? 

And that's the story of how I changed my 1 year old's name...and it's okay. 

Oh- and yes, her legal name is still Sarah Claire and if as she grows up she decides that she wants to go back to being called Sarah or Sarah Claire or Claire, we will fully support that. But for now- she's Sadie. :)

Easter Sunday 2017

Slowly, but surely, we are adjusting to life in Maryland. Things here are so much different than other places that we've lived (or at least- I remember living). Sometimes it seems like I'm in another culture or country- there doesn't seem to be the same kind of hospitality (in general) that exists in Alabama or Ohio. But, as the weather has gotten nicer and we've met more of our neighbors and started to make friends- I'm beginning to realize that maybe this isn't the worst place we could have gotten stationed, maybe it isn't completely terrible.

This year was S's first "real" Easter. Last year, she was almost a month old when Easter happened, but there wasn't too much celebration because 

a) she wouldn't remember it

b) I was a mom of a newborn

and 

c) she was a month early, so I wasn't prepared to have an Easter basket or dress that I loved.

I know that things like the "perfect first Easter dress" are material and not spiritual and don't really matter, but to a new mom that felt completely overwhelmed and unprepared...sometimes it seemed like the end of the world and that I was probably first in line for the "Worst Mother of the Year" award. In order to compensate for these feelings, I tended to use the line of "She's just a month old and she won't remember it" (which is probably true). I struggled (and still struggle somewhat) with feelings of guilt about the first year of her life, feelings of inadequacy or not being present and active with her enough, and how my mental health was very affected for close a year by pregnancy and postpartum hormones. This isn't to say that everything is perfect now by any means, but I definitely feel more like my pre-pregnancy anxious self than postpartum. :)

All of it to say- I was very excited about getting to celebrate Easter with my little girl this year! :)

On Friday, we had a squadron event at T's work to share some food and fun and meet some of the people that he is going to be working with. They had a small egg hunt for the kids, so S got to hunt for eggs for the first time and once she discovered that she could put them in the basket, and then take them out of the basket, and then repeat over and over again, she was very, very happy. She was even happier when she discovered a chocolate kiss inside one of the eggs and Mommy let her try chocolate candy for the first time. I think we might have a chocolate-loving girl. :) 

Then, on Saturday, we relaxed at home for awhile (my allergies aren't loving Maryland right now) before heading out to pick up S a water table! I've been wanting to get her one for awhile to help encourage her to stand and try to walk around it holding on, and she was so excited to try it out. S loves playing with her ducks in the bathtub, so getting to put on a cute pink tutu swimsuit and splash in the water while playing with rubber ducks was pretty fun for her. One thing that we love about the townhome that we are renting is that it has a fenced backyard with a patio. I can see us spending a lot of time this summer grilling out and playing back here.

And then on Sunday morning, we went to church! T and I hid some Easter eggs (if you call placing them in the middle of the playroom "hiding" them) that were filled with goldfish crackers for S and the puppies to share. She also found her Easter basket, where Mommy and Daddy had given her a new stuffed "lambie" that she absolutely adores. It's super cute and super soft, and to be honest, I really want one, too. :) After finding her goodies, we fixed some pancakes and bacon to eat for breakfast together....and THEN, we went to church.

I love our new church that we've found here. We've only gone three Sundays (since that's how long we've been in town), but it's what we've been missing. We weren't really able to ever find somewhere to call our church "home" in Ohio, so we decided to make it a priority to research places before we moved here to Maryland that we might want to visit. We visited our new church once and decided to end the search because we had found one that we liked. S had two hard Sundays in the nursery, so I decided to keep her with us this week since they might be busier because of Easter. I'm hoping that slowly she will get used to it (though, I'm not sure how that's going to go since they change nursery rooms when they start walking and we'll have to go through this again).

Overall, we had a great Easter weekend and a decent start to our time here in Maryland! Thanks for all of the thoughts and prayers during this time of transition- we're still not fully unpacked and adjusted (and still have more phone calls and address changes and crazy moving stuff to do), but we are well on our way and super thankful to get to be together to celebrate Easter. :)

Please Be Still

Since I began this blog, I got married, got pregnant, moved 9 hours from "home", and had a baby. Just thinking about everything that these last two years has held gets me exhausted, so its no wonder that I haven't posted as frequently in this space as I did in previous writing spaces that I've had. Things were very different back in the days of Diaryland and Xanga and MySpace, and the days of "Not Your Everyday Cinderella"/"Finding Free" (the two names for the blog I authored in my college years). When I began Wiferella, I lived in Alabama and I was preparing for my first PCS with my husband as we looked forward to the Air Force sending us to AFIT at Wright-Patterson AFB in Dayton, Ohio. Now, our eighteen months in Ohio is drawing to a close and we are preparing to make another move- this time to Ft. Meade, Maryland! This time is filled with lots of emotions. For most of my time in Ohio, I've hated being here. I hated it because it wasn't home, it wasn't Alabama, it wasn't comfortable or something familiar that I knew. I just knew that I couldn't wait to leave Ohio- but now that the time is coming...I'm kind of sad. Ohio has become something "known" and Maryland is the new unknown that I am dreading. I wonder if this is just a part of the process of being a military wife- making wherever the Air Force sends us home for the season we are in and embracing what it is in that moment. Maybe one of these days I will get used to the moving and PCSing and uncertainty and unknown, but right now? Right now it feels terrible and awful and I'm internally (and sometimes externally) freaking out.

In these moments, one phrase often comes to mind- "Peace be still." There's a song that came out when I was in high school that runs through my mind and I am drawn back to a much simpler, yet still anxiety-filled season of my life.

Come to Me, you who are weak
Let My strength be yours tonight
Come and rest, let My love be your bed
Let My heart be yours tonight
Peace be still, Peace be still
Please be still and know that I am God
and know that I am God
Come empty cup, let Me fill you up
I'll descend on you like a dove tonight
Lift your head, let your eyes fall into Mine
Let your fear subside tonight
Hallelujah, Hallelujah*

In these moments, it's almost like I can hear God whispering to me to just be still, be still for one moment. I wonder if he ever gets frustrated with my frequent worries about "what is", and then I think of my daughter. S is twelve months old, and she has decided that she no longer needs a nap, even though she really does. She just doesn't want to miss out on anything that is happening in the world around her. So, sometimes she will work herself up to the point of exhaustion and refuse to take a nap. She's crabby. She's crying and whining and I'm starting to get cry-y and whiney and it's super frustrating. She starts to cry a simple cry, but it's a cry that signals to me that she's tired and that if I can just get her to be still for 30 seconds- she'll be out like a rock for 2 hours. So, I lay her on my chest and we snuggle under the blankets and I hold her arms and legs and tell her that everything will be okay, that she is loved, that she is safe, that Mama is right here. I start to sing to her- and just like that- she's out. She just needed to calm down and be still long enough to fall asleep.

I wonder if it's like that with us and God. I mean, every single time I work myself up like this, he works it out in the end and I'm like "why did I freak out over that?" Maybe I just need to stop crawling away from him, stop fighting his hold on me, and lean into him. Maybe I just need to listen to his soothing voice on my life and let him calm my fighting spirit. Maybe he's sitting here, holding me, whispering to me, saying "Please child. Please be still, please be still and know that I am God."

I'm holding on to that image tonight- and in the days of uncertainty to come. Maybe I can't change what it to come, but with God by my side, I can accept the things I cannot change.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Just for today. 

*Song: Peace Be Still by Rush of Fools

Nerve-wracking Baby Steps

I feel like the little groundhog that's been hiding in his hidey-hole all winter- I feel like I just kind of woke up and stepped outside and there's all these people with cameras asking if I see my shadow or not and I'm like, "What shadow? What's a shadow? Don't ask me all of these hard questions this early in the morning!".

So, hi...I'm Lauren. I inhabit this body and I take up space (and that's okay) and I've kind of been checked out from the world for about three months, but that's okay because everyone needs a break (or breakdown) every now and then...right? Right? Let's just all say "right" because I'm kind of nervous admitting that the last three months have been as terrible as they've been. I don't know what exactly set this lapsey-relapsey-messy thing into motion. It might have been stress over a high needs/"spirited" six (now almost nine) month old, might have been a triggering (I hate that word, but it's what it is) event that happened, might have just been things being things. But, "thing" happened and now I find myself back at the bottom of the ladder trying to pick myself up (or rather- get up with the help of my support system) and climb back up to the place of "meh-recovery" I was at... to hopefully get to the place of "recovery" I was at pre-baby.

And you know what? It's hard. It's hard hard hard and I hate it hate it hate it. It doesn't seem fair that life has to be such a struggle and has to suck this much right now. I mean, I have a baby, it should be easier and funner and I should feel more motivation to get better- but frankly, the motivation I have to get "better" right now is that I don't want to miss my daughter learning to crawl and walk and run because I'm off somewhere learning to eat again. So, I make that nerve-wracking baby step and I eat the meal set before me (even thought I think it might kill me) and I don't purge it (even though I feel like I'm going to explode) and I do "all the right things" even though they feel like they are "all of the wrong things". I fight even though I am so damn tired of fighting. I go to therapy twice a week and group once a week and I talk about all of these hard thoughts and feelings that are inside me in hope that all of this talking will make me feel better and will make the hard things easier.

But, sometimes this talking and fighting is exhausting. Sometimes I just want a break. So, I crawl in bed and I isolate and I turn off the light and I try to pretend for just a moment that none of this is happening. Sometimes the thoughts and feelings of anxiety are overwhelming and consuming. So, sometimes during this season (as in more often than not) we haven't made it to church or MMO or playdates or even the grocery store. I'm learning to offer myself grace even though I feel guilty for depriving Sarah of these things (she's only eight months old, she won't really remember this- what is important is Mommy getting better).

What's important right now is that I take care of myself so that I can take care of my family. On airplanes, they talk about putting your own oxygen mask on first- right now I'm working on putting my mask on. Right now, there's a whole lot of Daddy-Daughter time that T gets to have with Sarah. That's okay. Right now, there's a whole lot of eating out because grocery stores seem irrationally scary. That's okay. Life doesn't have to stay at these baby steps forever (it probably shouldn't, but I'm not going to should on myself too much), but it can stay here as long as it has to. I am okay. Baby is okay. Family is okay. For now, okay can be enough. Okay can be my baby step. Okay can be this season of learning and growing and healing.

Baby step for today is being the groundhog and getting out of bed and walking outside- it doesn't have to be answering all of the questions about Winter and Spring and telling everyone the story of my life. The baby step is a step in the right direction. Along the way there may be side-steps and steps backwards and that's okay. Baby steps. Itty bitty baby steps if I must, taking each step one day at a time...

If we are painstaking about this phase of our development, we will be amazed before we are half way through. We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness. We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace. No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others. That feeling of uselessness and self pity will disappear. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away. Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change. Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.
Are these extravagant promises? We think not. They are being fulfilled among us—sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. They will always materialize if we work for them. -The Promises of AA

It works if you work it.