Meet Mike

it started with a cup.

a regular-sized, plastic, blue kitchen cup.

and some nerf guns too.

a cup and a nerf gun.

that is how it all started.

It's known as the infamous cup war, all because I somehow ended up with that silly blue cup in my kitchen with the name "ivey" scrawled untidily on the bottom. That eventually lead to a ransom photo of my nerf gun placed against the cup while it was sitting on my living room floor.

and then it was war.

Misao and I didn't know when the attack was going to happen exactly, but we knew it was coming. We sat waiting with our nerf guns and water guns and balloons and waited in our separate apartments, our eyes constantly darting to the courtyard, on the look out for the assault that was about to descend upon the Perkins complex any moment. We were prepared.

but we were not prepared for triple agent Trish.

20 minutes later and a full out raging battle was going on in on the grass lawn between apartments 108 and 109. ten minutes later and I had my hands pinned behind me, a nerf gun in the small of my back and Mike's voice in my ear demanding the return of his cup or else.

one jammed finger, a coldstone run and a night at porter park and that was it.

that was the start.

six months later and I found myself curled up on the couch of Mike's basement in Nevada City California while a seemingly endless amount of tears poured down my face. The last of the California sunbeams were fading over the treetops of the pines in the backyard of the Ivey house and I remember tucking my feet underneath me with some difficulty as concerned blue eyes watched me quietly as my emotions filled to the very brim and overflowed.

My heart was breaking and he was watching the first cracks begin to appear.

Cautiously and calmly, he began to speak and with a few soothing words, he calmed my troubled heart and gave me hope and peace. His words have been etched into my soul since then.

"There is a plan, Chelsie. God knows what he is doing, trust him, and things will work out. I know this is hard. I know that this isn't what you came to California for. I know that you were not expecting to be sitting in my basement being upset right now. I know this wasn't your plan. But it was God's. And he knows what he is doing."

and with a reassuring hug (mike gives the best hugs) and a few minutes of understanding silence from a friend who knew the importance of just being there, I knew that he was right.

the following months brought continuous heartbreak for both of us, but at the end of the day, Mike was always around to keep me smiling, to keep me going, to encourage me when I was ready to give up and to remind me that there was a plan. He taught me every day that faith in that plan was essential to surviving tough stuff. He showed me that it was okay to experience emotions and it was okay to feel sad about things, but that it was necessary to keep the faith. Mike taught me how to let go of hurts, he taught me how to forgive and he taught me patience. He showed me that anything can be overcome as long as faith is kept and prayers are said.

Mike taught me the importance of keeping the little kid inside of me alive, no matter what was happening in my life or what things are dragging me down. But most importantly, Mike taught me what it was like to keep moving forward, even when everything seemed to be set against me.

Mike is currently serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints right now in Guatemala and is gone for two years, and although I miss his laugh and his hugs and his pep talks, I know that he's where he needs to be. He's following his plan. And he still finds ways to keep my spirits lifted and me motivated when I feel like I can't go any further.

Mike is a friend.

Mike is family.