Ch. 4: I’ll be alright – just not tonight – but someday.

About a week and a half ago I was taken back to this memory:

When I was about ten years old I had a conversation with my grandmother in her broken English and my non-existent Farsi. She was trying to convince me to move back to Iran with her. From what I understood, she promised that if I moved to Iran that I would be married to a Prince—I would wear so many gold bracelets (the Persian’s understand the significance of the gold bracelet) that my arms would be covered from here, she points to my wrist, to here, she points to my arm mid-shaft. She informed me that I would have servants for every one of my daily tasks, and I would never have to work a day in my life. I have no idea the significance of this memory coming at the time it did, but I have to think that it prepared me for the events that proceeded.

My life in Atlanta is wonderful. To state the running theme again, I love it here. I know in my head that I made the right choice for my life…sometimes my heart is slow to follow.

But the last few weeks have been incredibly trying. The thing I have realized is that every new nuisance that presents itself knocks me off center. And every new event pushes me further and further from center. Besides the obvious, the bothers me because I was so grounded in Los Angeles. I knew who I was. I was who I was. I knew where my worth resided. And that was that. And things are getting muddled out here.

Three weeks ago an event came up that forced me to contact Justin. And as most of you know, dealing with Justin is top on my list of LEAST favorite pastimes. Seriously, will this saga ever end? The one good thing (me and my silver lining) that came out of this was the 100% head and heart agreement that I have healed and moved on from that 4-year bump in the road. However, through this ordeal I have come to find out that he is getting married. (really!?) I probably have a lot more to say on that subject, but as this is a public forum, I will end it here. ((maybe the secret to finding happiness is drinking more whiskey and showing affection through aggression—sorry, I couldn’t help myself.))

Last week I received an email from Andrew. (…)The one name I secretly hope to see in my inbox every single time I check my email. And then…it is there. Events that surrounded the email included: leaving class for 30-minutes to cry behind a marquee. It was here that a tiny Asian man found me, and asked if I needed help. Complete lack of concentration for a few days—during midterm week, mind you. Mind running a mile a minute. Not getting the Radiohead tickets that went on sale last week (the whole purpose of the email). 

Everything turned out as well as it could have, and for the first time in six months we were able to have a normal interaction. I think he is back to his old self. But as a good friend once said, “I have inherent mistrust of flip floppers.” Whatever the case may be, I can honestly say that I am ready to fully move past this. (thank god!)

**disclaimer for my father: no I do not want you to kick anyone’s ass. I received a voice mail from him last week after an emotional phone call with my mom offering his ass kicking services. I love my baba-jaan!

And then two days later I received an email from someone else who will remain completely nameless. Most would not even know him by name, but everyone who knows my story knows who this guy is (have I given enough away yet?). This was the biggest “is-this-seriously-happening-right-now” moment I have had in a very VERY long time. It just reminded me of this awful creature that I at one time had the potential to become.

Did these three get together and plan this? Is there some little devil plotting my downfall? (don’t answer that)

My visit with Beth could not have come at a more opportune moment. I felt so lost and disheartened when I got on that plane Thursday. But seeing Miss Beth gave my heart rest for a weekend. She continually spoke truth over me and loved on me. There was so much to take away from my encounters with her this weekend, but this one sentence continues to ring in my ears: I think you need to fast from dysfunction. So simple, and yet so true. So mark this as day one of my fast from dysfunction!

My third day in Chicago, I traveled into the city by my lonesome. And it was glorious! I spent hours upon hours centering, and praying, and meditating—all the while walking the streets of Chicago.

We had a Doctor come and speak to our student body last week. He spoke on love and how to heal this world. And one of the points he made (in passing) set the tone for my journey to Chicago. He said something to the effect of: love can heal all wounds. Physical; emotional; love can heal. And I know that to be true. So often I do not hold on to that truth, but my life stands as testament to that. So I need to love. I need to love myself. I need to love my God. I need to love everyone I come into contact with on a daily basis. And through this, I know I will find wholeness.

The reason I mention the interaction with my grandmother 16 years ago, is because it reminded me that I am royalty. Whether I marry and Iranian Prince or not, I am dearly beloved. And I need to start holding myself to that regard before I can expect others to recognize that in me.

--> Short plug for Bethie: She is doing what she was made to do in Chicago. It was so encouraging to watch her as she blossoms! And I love her as deeply as I would a sister  :)

Ch. 3: I made it to the one month mark!

Today marks one whole month that I have been in Atlanta. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop with my emotions about moving. As if I am going to wake up one morning and be completely homesick and devastated that I made this move. But that has yet to happen. ((which makes me really happy)) I like it here. I miss home. I miss my friends. I miss PIHOP (so much!). But I am very happy here. I have a classmate who is from New York City, and last week we were talking about why we both love Atlanta. He put it perfectly when he said, “everyone is nice here, and the smile all the time, and everything you need is just down the street. Why would anyone not want to live here?” And that is my feeling exactly. I am allowing myself the opportunity to hate it once the weather changes, but for now, I absolutely love it here.

There has been one hiccup since I have been here. It happened 2 weeks ago, and it is so insignificant that I will only say this: Southern Boys -1   Me – 0. They might not be as great as they seemed when I was back in California.

The school is unreal. I am so happy here! I love everything that my school is doing and everything that they stand for. The president is a shaker and a mover. And I love that. I feel like I am involved with the leading force in chiropractic. Even with all the negatives that came with making the choice to come out here, I really believe that made the best choice that I could have made!

It is crazy how quickly time is flying. Joy and Robert are getting married in 6 weeks! And I will be back in California. I cannot wait to see all of my girls again! Todd’s wedding is the 17^th in Pennsylvania, I will have a quick stop in Texas,  and then I will back in California for almost 3 weeks!!! I hope we have a sunny Christmas this year.

Chris Garcia sent me an email last week asking me if I ever giggle at the different accents here. Prior to moving, I told everyone about my huge distain for southern accents. They have always sounded weird to me. But now that I am here, I am really starting to like them. I walked past a group of people having a conversation, and I caught myself thinking about how cute all of their accents sounded. The best part is how everyone gets a lot more Southern when they are talking about their family, or something back home. Like they have been suppressing the accent this whole time, but when they are talking about their truck back home, it just has to come out. And I love it! I see this as huge growth for me personally.

Another strange Atlanta-ism is how I feel safer here just by nature of it not being Los Angeles. People have stopped me a few times and brought me back down to reality. One time I left my laptop on the passenger seat of my car while I went to lunch with a friend. Now, my car was in the school parking garage the whole time, but he was a little shocked that I willfully left my computer in plain view.

The other night I went to take the trash out and I decided to walk to the trash compactor because I have been inside most of the day. It is a bit of a walk and because of this, we usually drive the trash over. But I live in a gated community, so I feel very safe walking around at night. My roommate gave me a little scare when she said, “I wouldn’t walk there alone at this time if I were you.” I did, and it was fine, but I think I need to realize that Los Angeles is not the only dangerous town in America.

On Wednesday my roommate and I had people over and we carved pumpkins. It feels more like home every time I do something like this. And my pumpkin turned out really well! Everyone's pumpkins are still sitting on our front porch, and they are a happy sight to come home to everyday--especially when they are lit up. The kitty in the picture is Buddy-Elvis. He is the most loving and lovable cat ever. 

I started reading this book that my cousin gave me before I left. It is called “Choosing Gratitude.” Obviously, it is all about making a conscious effort to be more grateful for every season of your life. Like I said above, I am very happy here. I think Cleveland closing down was one of the greatest blessings in disguise that has led me to Atlanta. But I still fall into this awful pattern of not being grateful. I think I am outwardly grateful with most people, but inwardly I still host pity parties for myself because my life does not look the way I thought it was going to even a year ago. One of the things this book says to do is to daily repeat: Cultivate in me a grateful heart. So this is the first thing that I have placed on my bathroom mirror and I repeat it to myself multiple times a day. For those of you who saw my bathroom mirror back home, you will know this is the first of MANY things that will end up on my bathroom mirror.

I will leave you with something else that I look at everyday, and it warms my heart! 

Shauna made this for me just before I left. 

(the back of the frame) And I miss these 3 girls more than anything! 

 Love you! Miss you!

- Meggie

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Ch. 2: 12-days of Southern Living

It is odd to think that I have only lived here for 12 days—it feels like so much longer. Everything is going really well. The weather has been really nice and Fall-ish. Classes are going well. And I am making friends like crazy (as predicted, the “new girl” appeal is in full effect).

Since my last post, I started classes, said ‘goodbye’ to my father (who flew back home on Monday), and received and unpacked everything I shipped out here. I must say that unpacking is one of the worst things ever. Next time I make big move, I might just pay the extra million dollars and get people to pack, ship, and unpack for me.

My first day of school was nothing like what I had expected. I did not have a schedule, so I got to school by 6:45 and sat in the admissions office with about 50 other students that were having scheduling issues. I was not seen until 10am. It felt like they were hazing me—seeing how much I could take. I then proceeded to sit in the academic advisors office for an hour and a half while he typed up a schedule for me. The end result was me walking out of his office with 11 classes and 3 audits, but somehow getting Fridays off this quarter. Here’s to 3-day weekends for the next 3 months. YAY!

My new school is a wee-bit larger than my old school. (read as: my Life University is massive compared to Cleveland.) And somehow, a number of the classrooms were incorrect on my schedule. By the time I had left the academic advisors office, I had missed my two morning classes and most of my 11am class. I slowly and awkwardly found my way to the room number that was written on my schedule, just to find that the room number was not correct. The professor I found in the classroom, Dr. Vanderslice, took pity on me and helped me find what room my actual class was being held in. This whole process took about an HOUR! Sweet Dr. Vanderslice walked back and forth across the campus to help me find this classroom. He also showed me where some of my other classes would meet. I felt like it was my first day of Jr. High—a day most of us do not ever want to repeat.

Tuesday felt similar to Monday. I was late to the majority of my classes because I could not find them, I did not have the materials that every other student did, I ate lunch by myself, and my dad had left the day before. It was a hard day.

But from Wednesday on, things started to feel like home. I am finally starting to find my way around Atlanta (with the help of my trusty phone navigation). I have gotten lost about two-dozen times, but I have seen some of the most incredible neighborhoods filled with massively beautiful homes. For those of you who know about my obsession with beautiful homes, you will understand how this adds to the appeal of Atlanta. The freeway system here is a series of circles. (WHAT!?) Yup, circles. Most of the streets are not on any sort of grid. Turning right to go South can have you going North in about 200 feet. It has been nothing short of an adventure.

I want to stop here to tell you a little story about my mother:  My mother is the most patient and amazing woman I know. So whenever she would miss an off-ramp, or we would get lost, her response would always be, “well, this is an adventure,” said in the happiest tone. And I swear I hear her voice every time I find driving around the streets of Atlanta, completely lost. **I know that this last sentence will terrify my mother. Don’t worry mummy; I only get lost in very nice and well-lit neighborhoods.

I was at a philosophy talk on Friday night, where 30 of my peers gathered in a very intimate setting to listen to our school’s president speak. It was phenomenal! The talk energized me about my profession, and really confirmed my decision to come out here. At the end of the talk I had students coming up to talk with me about my transition—all offering any support that I might need. Even the president pulled me aside for a few minutes to talk about my move, our alma mater (UCLA!), and how much I miss Los Angeles. I felt like I was being handed my 2-mintues of popularity, and I reveled in it. It was the best way to end my first week of school in a new city.

I have gone to North Point Community Church for the last 2 Sundays. For those of you who do not know, North Point is a mega-church in Atlanta. They have the main church, and several satellite churches. I have been attending the Buckhead satellite. This church is about 5-times the size of CA. The church shares a parking lot with a mall. They hire parking attendants to funnel us in and out of the lots. It is massive, and crazy. It is very different than what I am used to. But the pastor, Andy Stanley, is amazing.

Last weeks message had me in tears. The message was titled: When God is inattentive. It was all about God still being God, and still being faithful in despite of your personal circumstances. One thing I do love about this church is that they put up on the video screens key sentences that they deem important. I like it because it gives me time to write it down and internalize it. My favorite one from last week was: your personal circumstances do not necessarily coincide with how God feels about you. Anyone who has walked with me in the six-months knows that I have struggled with that statement.  Andy mentioned times when God leads you out into the desert and our response should not be to lose faith, but to look back at all God has faithfully carried us through. (!!!)  I felt like he had read my last blog (or my journal) and that he was talking directly to me. That is always such a wonderful reminder. I was telling a friend about a month ago that I do not have too many pillars in my faith (sorry for the Islamic reference), but there are two things that I inextricably know: There is a God. And he passionately and affectionately loves me. I think I might need to write that one on my bathroom mirror.

To finish off the weekend I did my first “HOTlanta” thing. I went to the Atlanta-Green Bay game. It was such a great game. And I was with some really great new friends. Oh yeah, and we won!!! My voice is still hoarse from yelling, “GO PACK, GO” for the majority of the game…and the majority of the walk back to the car.

My friend Brandon reminded me before I left that I am safe. So I will leave you with that. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers. I miss you guys all SO much. I miss CA. I miss the beautiful Los Angeles weather—it is raining here right now, and I know it is currently 90 degrees back home. And I am having to fight this feeling of loneliness that is starting to rear its head again. But I know that I am safe.

I cannot express how much I love you guys. All of your calls/emails/texts have left me feeling so uplifted. A day has not passed by where one (or several) of you have contacted me to tell me that you miss me and you are thinking of me.

I love you, I love you, I love you!

Miss Megan

Ch. 1: The Move

As I changed the Time Zone on my Mac, it hit me: I LIVE in Atlanta now. My father and I arrived Friday night after 4 days and 2,500 miles. I’ll tell you what; the drive across the country is not a short one!

On the first day we stopped at the Grand Canyon, and we both stood in awe for hours. I do not know how anyone can look at something as beautiful and massive as the Grand Canyon and not respond with praise to the one who created us. It was one of the most astounding things I have ever seen.

On the second day we did nothing but drive…and drive…and drive. We covered almost 900 miles in one day. I know now that was just unfair to do to another person. We had a “hard” day to say the least.

Day three we made it to the International House of Prayer, Kansas City. This was my favorite stop of the entire trip—and I think my father would say the same thing. We got there just in time for Misty Edwards.  (I may or may not have planned it that way.) It honestly felt like all time stood still the moment we entered The Prayer Room. Two and a half hours later, and completely refreshed, we were back on the road.

And on day four we finally made it to Atlanta. You know how marathon runners will tell you that the last few miles of the race feel like nothing—as if you are running off of pure adrenaline at that point? Well that is how the last four hours felt. Once we left Nashville—which is one of the coolest cities I have ever been in—the drive flew by, and was so exciting. By the time we got into Atlanta, I was ecstatic.

** I have to pause here for a moment to tell you about my emotional process: I have been so surprised/impressed with my heart through this whole journey. When I first decided to drive out to Atlanta, I had this picture of myself crying until we reached the Grand Canyon. And I did nothing of the sort. I was incredibly prepared for this new chapter in my life to begin. Even as I write this, I miss you all so deeply, but am not sad that I left. I have such hope that this was part of God’s plan for my life.  

About 5 months ago, the director of PIHOP, Cheryl, said that she saw this next season of my life as God calling me into the desert where He was going to be intimately present, and I would come back a changed person. I have held on to that word/promise/prophecy with all the trust I contain.

One morning I was praying at PIHOP, and I so clearly heard Hosea 2: 14-16:

"Therefore, behold, I will allure her, And bring her into the wilderness, And speak tenderly to her.   I will give her back her vineyards, And the valley of Achor for a door of hope; And she will respond there, As in the days of her youth, And as in the day when she came up out of the land of Egypt.  It will be in that day," says Yahweh, "That you will call me 'my husband,' And no longer call me 'my master.'

I felt like God was speaking these words over me—like He was promising me that my trip to Atlanta would be like this. Two days later, Cara, one of the girls in my prayer group, prayed the same words over me. This holds so much meaning for me because I have experienced so much loss over the last year. So many things have changed in my life over the last year that I have had no control over. And I am left back at square one—a place I honestly never thought I would see again. The promise of restoration in the verse above is what I am holding on to. I believe that my time in the wilderness (and if you only saw where I lived you too would call it wilderness) will yield back the vineyards I have lost, and then some.

…Like I said, I have high hopes for the next 2-years.

Saturday morning dad and I drove about an hour to IHOP Atlanta (are you starting to see a theme here?). It was so peaceful. I look forward to the hours I will spend in those chairs, just sitting. However, it is an hour away. I am finding out that when people say ‘Atlanta’ they do not actually mean Atlanta. Like the people who call The Antelope Valley, ‘Los Angeles.’ So I will probably spend more time streaming the KC Prayer Room then I will actually at IHOP Atlanta…in Lawrenceville.

As of right now, I am sitting on the floor of my room because my furniture does not arrive until tomorrow. But I am surrounded by cards and notes from my dearest friends. I feel SO very loved and supported in this new chapter of my life.

Please continue to keep me in your thoughts and prayers.

With SO much love,

Megan Haléh

My new address:  2015 Lake Park Drive SE apt H   Smyrna, GA 30080