On Blooms

There's definitely something to be said for the result of giving specific time and attention to a task.

A few months ago a friend of mine took me to a greenhouse. Everywhere I looked was splendor. There were flowers spilling from hundreds of baskets. The mental pictures I took that day are burned into my mind's eye. Color, texture, shape, aroma...seemingly dripping from every atom in the space. It captured my imagination, my heart, my creativity, my essence.

My "thumb" isn't black but it's not necessarily green either. I can successfully keep house plants alive. I can't tell you what kind of plant it is or anything about it's growth cycle, etc..... but I can keep it green. I'm pretty pleased that I have that power.

I quite enjoy the changing of seasons, and I particularly enjoy spring into summer. I love to wander in the garden section of Walmart. If that it itself doesn't prove my lack of passion for gardening, I'm not sure what would. Anyway..... I always find myself drawn to the seed packets. A couple of years ago I bought packets for several varieties of flowers. For two years they were just part of the odd collection of small pots, potting soil, watering cans, twist ties, etc that are on a shelf on the back porch.

I was so inspired by my trip to the greenhouse that I decided to put some flower seeds in dirt and water them regularly just to see what would happen. I didn't read or study the types of flowers. I didn't spend mental energy I didn't have. I just put seeds in dirt and added water on a regular basis.

It has been a couple of months, but I am now the proud Momma of 2 small marigolds. I don't have a crop. I don't have an elaborate or particularly colorful display or even anything to brag about. I am, however, pleased as punch with my little flowers. Here's one of them. Isn't she precious?

Many, many things have been on my mind lately. I was thinking today about that marigold. In her case, (seed + dirt + water + sunlight + time = what she was created to be). I can't help but consider (? = what I am created to be). For most of my life I was pretty sure I had that figured out. Recently, though, I've discovered that I have been operating under a false equation.  Little Miss Marigold didn't take over the process and demand Kool-Aid and shade instead of water and sunlight. She doesn't skip around telling people she's night-blooming jasmine. She's a happy marigold and she bloomed with precision exactly when she was supposed to. To me, that simplicity is profound. It also makes perfect sense.

 The same God that created Miss Marigold's seed also created me. (Psalm 139:13-16) She didn't toil an strive to become who she is. She is because her Creator said she would be. The same holds true for me. I spend too much time making life more complicated than it needs to be. I need to learn to rest, believe, and trust. Then, I will bloom with precision exactly when I'm supposed to.

On Simple Gestures

     On Sunday our Pastor Guy issued a challenge to find someone who doesn't feel loved and love on them. At lunch my daughter asked if I felt loved. I dismissed the question and chalked it up to her being silly. Teenagers often refuse to see past their longest finger. I figured she was going with the lazy solution to the challenge and not seeking outside of her own family. The trouble is, the question hasn't left me.

      Since my daughter asked the question, I've been considering my truthful answer. The truth is that more often than not, I don't feel loved. I feel used... especially by my children. I'm saddened by that. I've been thinking too about what exactly makes me feel loved. I know my "love language" is quality time. But beyond that.... what behaviors, words, etc. make me feel authentically loved and in what ways do I show that same kind of love to others. It's something that is going to take me some time to adequately answer. I'm not sure I know at all.

     Every Sunday at church I seek out a particular friend. I seek her out to simultaneously give and receive a long, meaningful hug. For me that hug is a tether. It's a tether to the truth that I am loved. It's a weekly reminder from another human being that I am valued. It's so easy for me to lose that truth. It slips between the runs in the fabric of me that are caused by the sharpness of life.  It's no wonder that I struggle to know what exactly makes me feel loved when I have such a hard time holding on to the truth that I am loved in the first place.

     On Sunday I was talking to my huggable friend and she did the sweetest thing. It took me completely by surprise. As I was standing there talking to her, she brushed several strands of hair off my face and tucked them behind my ear. I have no idea why she did that. I can tell you this, though, in those few seconds I felt very loved. I also felt vulnerable, valuable, and accepted. Who knew such a small gesture could mean so many things to a person? It did though. That was just another piece of the puzzle and has lent valuable information to my quest for answers on the subject of what makes me feel loved.

On Remember the time when...

     Years ago I wrote this about how relationships/making friends was easier when we were children. A couple of weeks ago I found on Facebook my first "Best Friend" Linda Lee.  I have such wonderful memories of us. From that first day on the swings in 4th grade when we became friends, all the way until 9th grade when I started going to a different school and we lost touch, so much fun was had. Though we lost touch, those memories have remained precious to me. I have always known that immediately upon reconnecting we could launch into an endless session of "Remember that time when....". I have smiled so many times thinking about things we did together like searching for "Littles" in the air vents at her house or eating piles of candy while fully clothed in a dry bathtub with the lights out and curtain closed. I don't know why we did the things we did, but we had big fun doing them.
     I have a standing date with a friend of mine every week. Our lives don't intersect much, though we have friends in common. We've decided to be intentional about our friendship. And....I'm pretty sure she can see straight into my soul. Last week I arrived at her house "freaking out" because I had just come from the dentist's office where I was told I needed a root canal. After much discussion... she's going to go with me to the appointment. She's just that awesome. Anyway, we had a really great conversation that I want to share. I've been thinking about it.
     Perhaps it's just me, but I have a hard time receiving care and attention from other people. There's little I won't do for my friends, but I wouldn't dare expect that anyone would do anything for me. I've decided that this is problematic. I've been rebuffed before by friends who refused help. It was really disheartening. It hurt. I realized... I'm guilty of doing the same thing. I realized that I assume each person has a very limited supply of time or concern for me. Who am I to decide for anyone else how they wish to spend their time or who they wish to spend their time with?
     When I think back to the friendships I had in childhood, I don't have any memory of wondering if they had time for me or if they even wanted to be with me. I don't remember not wanting to be with my friends. Truthfully, I feel that way now. Though I'm a card-carrying introvert, I'm lonely a lot for contact with my friends. I have plenty of available time. I wonder, though, at one point in life does the switch flip that tells us "No one has time for you". One day I just woke up and felt that way. I'm pretty sure it's a lie. Maybe I'm the only one whose switch flipped. I have a sneaky feeling it's not just me. When I was a kid I'd pick up the phone and give people a call to see what was up. Nowadays, when I feel lonely, I make assumptions and jump to conclusions.
     Here's what I think. If there's a pitfall to growing up, it's this: our perspectives get all messed up. When I was a kid, if playing in the dirt-pile was what was up that day, I played in the dirt-pile. If it was cutting new trails through the woods, I was cutting trails. If it was playing board games, hopscotch, swimming, being quiet and out of our parents' way, whatever.... it's what we did. We adapted to the situation at hand. Though we have responsibilities now, life hasn't changed that much. We've just forgotten how to do life together. The dirt-pile is emotional rather than physical, and the activities are events on our calendars. Someone, though, somehow, got us to believe that we have to do it alone, that no one is interested.....and we've become islands. We hide in our homes with our families who are "obligated" to us and guilty by association and we assume no one cares.  Frankly, I don't care for it. I'm guilty, but I'm over it. I want off the island.



    

On God Loves Me

His joy comes in the morning but Oh how He loves me at dusk!  Stef

     Throughout the last 9 years and 4 1/2 months I've had to pinch myself on the regular concerning specifically how God has blessed me with my Hubby Guy. He is a prize, ya'll. Not only does he mow the lawn, but he does dishes too! And the blessings just flow from there. All too often I hear of struggles within relationships. We are imperfect human beings and blending imperfections will always come with side effects. I don't claim a perfect marriage. I am, however, increasingly aware of how blessed I am to be married to my Hubby Guy. He is a gift straight from a very loving God.

     A week ago Hubby Guy bought me a new car. I have told only a handful of people about it. I've had a hard time putting into words how I feel about it. The truth is Hubby Guy has bought me 5 new cars in the almost 9 1/2 years we have been married. That statistic is shameful to admit. I've been somewhat embarrassed. 5 new cars....when the world is lousy with poverty. 5 new cars.... when there are children in foster care awaiting forever families. 5 new cars.... when so many have so little? Why? I've been thinking on that.

     In recent months I've come face to face with some notions that have plagued me for the entirety of my life. My stinking thinking has been exposed to the light of God's Word. It has been an interesting journey of discovery. It has not been an easy journey. It has been a many mile hike in extremely hilly territory. One of the first and biggest things I've learned so far is that God loves me. Maybe I'm the only one, but I've never really felt comforted by the hearing of those words. Hearing that has always felt to me like someone handing me a cup of sand to drink while I'm dying of thirst in the desert. That has always sounded to my ears like a really shallow "churchy" thing to say and has never carried much weight. These last few months have proved otherwise. One day this week a precious friend told me that I don't "ooze hurt" anymore. Like the hemorrhaging woman in Luke 8, I feel like I've been bleeding for years. For so long I haven't believed that there was help for me. I've been drowning in that unbelief from the choir loft, while teaching Sunday school, and while offering to serve in a number of ways. I have felt so conflicted. Why did I not run to Him sooner? Now, though,  I feel like I've managed to just touch the hem of His robe and have received healing.

     Tonight the ladies from our small group at church got together. We've been going through Beth Moore's study Here and Now, There and Then on the book of Revelation. Tonight's lesson was about God's betrothed. It was all about God's love for His chosen. As we were leaving, one of the ladies noticed my car. I was put on the spot. Again, I felt awkward. As I drove west towards home, over the mountains was painted a masterful sunset. I was awestruck, as I am prone to be when it comes to the splendor of creation. I started feeling so grateful for that sunset, for the beautiful black and white horse that was munching on a tree near the road, for the calves and their watchful mommas in the pasture, for the really shiny wheels on my pretty new vehicle to drive me through it all. And God held me close and whispered tenderly, "See how much I love you?". My mind drifted to a time 18 years ago when I bought my first car. I remember being so very afraid. I remember praying with a friend over the decision. I remember committing wholeheartedly that I would honor God with that car. I am reminded as I write this of several mileposts in life when I have committed other areas wholeheartedly to God... like remaining pure for marriage. And I think again about my Hubby Guy, that loving, doting, prize of a man I've been blessed with.... and again tonight God whispers tenderly, "See how much I love you?".

     I think I finally get it. A sunset drive through the gorgeous countryside in a brand new Ruby Red Edge from my amazing Hubby Guy is a pretty ostentatious way to get a girl's attention, but I get it. Not only does God love me, but He loves me with extravagance. He wanted me to know that tonight and for forever.

On Finding My Voice

For Christmas I received a gem of a gift. A friend gave me a new book. I'm a reader. I've read LOTS of books. I've never, however, read a book quite like this one.

If I had to pick a "struggle" that I've had throughout life it's this: reconciling myself to words. I've read and read for clues to my own voice. Where is my heart? What do I truthfully feel? How do I speak from my depths instead of skimming the surface of life? I've yet to discover any answers.

Well.... this book. I'm halfway through Chapter 2 and it already threatens to shake me loose of my moorings. This author uses words beautifully. I can feel her words as I read them. It's an experience. It's inspirational but profoundly scary.

I wrote a post a while ago that I'm reminded of this evening. That post was about how what God has in store may be a bit off the usual grid. Perhaps... in order to fully live out of who Christ says I already am, I may need to find my voice. Maybe A to B words won't work for me any better than the usual roads will get me to where God is working.

On Fledgling Emotions

On Friday I was wildly happy. I was happy all day. I was so happy that others were entertained by how happy I was.

Today I'm angry. I'm so angry that I feel bad all over like I'm sick. My heart hurts.

In September I restarted life. I started living life from a place of freedom. It has been grand. BUT, the hardest part for me has been learning how to feel stuff. I'm a person who for my entire life has lived on emotional lockdown. It's much safer to simply be numb. That way things don't get to you.

I have enjoyed these months of learning to loosen up. I've enjoyed my senses being awakened. I'm just more accustomed to staying very "together".  Experiencing a range of emotions makes life less predictable. I don't think I care for the ebb and flow of it.

On What Makes Me Happy

I've been asked this question more than once: What makes you happy?  I've never had a real answer. My first thought usually is puppy breath, kittens, Chef Boyardee Ravioli, green Super Bubble, and animals in general (especially baby ones). I've never been proud of that answer. Those are all things that I like very much, but they are all superficial.

Today I'm happy...actually happy....spring in my step happy. Earlier I was pondering why. I've come up with a deeper answer to the happiness question. It's this...Seeing evidence that hard work and patience on my part hasn't been in vain makes me extremely happy. Unfortunately, this type of happiness, by it's very nature, is hard to come by. It's hard fought. I consider myself a pretty patient person. Honestly, though, I struggle while waiting. I second guess myself. I wonder, sometimes, if I've made the right choices. When in the midst of all of that second guessing, I forget regularly that there may actually be light on the other side.... that I could be headed for some serious lasting happiness. It has occurred to me that too often I accept superficial, instant gratification type things as happiness. I've been guilty of wondering about what's reasonable to expect from life. I've not ever expected much happiness. I guess that's why I have settled for the superficial. I'm not sure I've ever felt deserving of anything more than brief, surface happiness.