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.

On Discovering a Connection

I said somewhere, sometime, in a post (I think) that I want to work on working out of my heart as much as I work out of my brain. I am pleased to announce that I have discovered a bridge between the two.

Here in the town where I live they have been working on building a new road. I feel like they've been building it for almost as long as I've lived here. They continue to toil away.  I had imagined that finding my brain-heart connection would be a lot like trying to get that road built. I had imagined that I would have to excavate for a few years before I found something that even looked like a beaten path between the two.

Well.... indeed, there is a bridge. It's a tentative one, kind of like an overgrown rope bridge over a foggy gorge....but it's there and so far it's able to bear my weight for brief forays to the other side.

I discovered something a couple of weeks ago when I was exploring "my heart side". For years I have believed the lie that I'm heartless. I believed I didn't have the capacity to love. I've not given any weight to my own feelings. I'm pretty stingy with any emotion but anger. I express that one with practiced ease. I'm the girl who doesn't cry at movies, or ever (with rare exceptions). I always thought that's how I was born. I discovered, though, a "heart side" chock-full of feelings and emotions. Some of them are encased in dust. I will need to do some cleaning. There are also lots of shiny new ones. It was a pretty fun discovery.

So many years of my life have been spent literally and figuratively alone with myself. I realized that I've been walking around numb. I had claimed the "heartless" lie. I was willfully living as if it were true. I locked myself inside that cold, hard lie and swallowed the key. Now that the walls have fallen and my heart is thawing I am beginning to feel things. I'm feeling a range of things. It's good.

On Happy Birthday To Me

Today is my birthday! I've always been rather fond of this day.

The last several years have been not so good. Last year my own mother completely forgot. She completely skipped my birthday. She never even wished me a late happy birthday.

Today will be a good day. I already know it. My coworkers are the one group who never forgets. I'm walking this afternoon with one of my new friends. I'm dining this evening with my family. I'll top off the day with my ladies Bible study group. They are always fun.

This year I'm so grateful for who God made me. I'm grateful that I already am who He made me to be and that I'm not a disappointment to Him. I'm also super grateful for my expanded boundaries. I'm really loving all the extra people in my life these days.

Happy Birthday to me!

On Pegs

My circumstances during childhood often left much to be desired. Those desires have everything to do with how I have traditionally formed relationships. This week I'm starting to realize that perhaps I should reconsider some of my behaviors relative to how I handle the people in my life.

In a blog On Tests I touched on the people I usually feel like are keepers. I called them round pegs people. They are the people that easily fit into the placeholders I have reserved for people in my life. I don't know if you've ever played the game "Life". It has these little cars that you put the Mom peg and the Dad peg and the little pink girl pegs and little blue boy pegs to make your family. Any time I have ever defined family in my head that's what it looked like to me.... the little square car with the little square people all lined up just right. That's what my family always looked like.

I've always been a person to categorize people I meet. There are parent types, close friend types, acquaintances, coworkers, strangers, brothers, sisters, hatchet murderers (I seriously have that category), etc. Each category has a role and a safety rating. Some roles contain people that I let close. Some roles are filled with people marked dangerous and who I don't go near if I can help it. I'm realizing this week that my system is flawed. It may well actually be somewhat unnecessary.

Now.. there is nothing wrong with seeking safe relationships. It's wise to guard your heart, etc. The trouble that I'm having is I believe that I have been unfairly disqualifying people from being anywhere near me or being a part of my life in any way because of unfair tags that I have placed on them.  For example, one of my new friends describes herself as a "raging extrovert". I can assure you that 3 months ago I would have classified her unsafe and never thought another day about her. When I told some trusted friends that I had met her they all said about her, "Yep, she's a bit much. She's really out there."  You should know that I find her dear. We relate to each other from a really neat place. I haven't experienced that "really out there" girl. God is definitely in it. I am working on another new relationship with a lady who in some ways is really broken right now because of a heartbreaking life change. 3 months ago I would not have invested. She doesn't trust others so why would I trust her? You should know that whether or not we become close, God is in it. I'm not afraid like I would have been. I really love her. She's precious to me. I have a third friend right now that formerly I would have disqualified because of her career. My own stereotypes and fears would have kept me solidly far, far away from her. She's definitely a square peg for me. BUT... I am oddly drawn and I have been blessed. God is in it. All three of these women are AMAZING! All three of them 3 months ago I would have disqualified. That makes me sad.

Now that I get that God loves me and everyone else too, figurative "shape" doesn't really matter. There's a place in the kingdom for round pegs, square pegs, octagon pegs, etc. And.... everyone has something to offer.

Tis The Season

*Deep Breath*

I'm feeling pretty positive.

Gymnastics season is underway. Tryout week is over. I have chosen a team. I'm really excited about the possibility of having a decent season. Usually at this point in the season there are 1 or 2 that stand out and everyone else feels like filler. This season it really feels like there is decent potential. We may still likely not be able to compete well in other districts where kids train year-round in private gyms, but it's clear that our program is getting better. That, in itself, makes the season successful before anyone ever even salutes a judge.

I realize the pace of my posting has slowed. This is the most difficult season for me schedule-wise and brain-traffic wise. The ticker tape in my brain has changed mostly from what's going on in my spiritual life to what needs to get done for practice, who needs to focus on what skills, and can we really be ready for a meet by Dec. 12. That is a constant. I even dream about gymnastics between now and mid-February. It just so happens that this season also includes my youngest's birthday, my birthday, Hubby Guy's birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and my wedding anniversary. It's busy.

The beautiful thing about this year is that my new-found freedom has definitely changed how well I'm able to deal with the pace of the season. It's odd to me that letting go of the NEED for control has amped up my ability to actually be in control. I don't feel like I'm chasing my tail. I feel less dread about what has to get done. There is still some stress there, but not stress that in the past has made me respond in unhealthy ways. One really healthy change that is going really well is that so far I'm not being a hermit. It's only been 1 week but I feel markedly better at this point than I ever have. I have several precious ones that I see at least once per week. I have a standing date for a weekly walk with one of my besties. I also have three new friends with which  I'm being intentional about building relationships. Life is GOOD on that front... perhaps better than it's ever been.

Today in the car my oldest out-of-the-blue said, "Why are you so popular all of the sudden?". It made me laugh. She's noticed that my boundaries have expanded. She's noticed that I don't keep to myself as much. It was interesting to hear her take on what exactly "being popular" means. It was really eye-opening. Her version of popular and my version of popular from when I was her age are different. I hadn't imagined that had changed that much. Who knew?

So there.

On The Me I Am When I Think No One is Watching

I have confessed before that my car is my safe place to dance unabashedly, sing at the top of my lungs, talk to myself, etc. It's that way because I'm pretty sure that no one is gonna show up in there with me unannounced. AND... for the most part everyone keeps to themselves inside a vehicle. For whatever reason I don't really worry about embarrassing myself for a millisecond passing people I don't know on the road.

At lunch today my children were embarrassed for me. I wasn't actually embarrassed.  The waiter approached our table while I was doing an impression of a demented chicken-like bird that I dreamed about last night. He actually approached two separate times and both times I was doing that impression. The children laughed so hard they were struggling to breathe. I would have happily shared my dream about the demented chicken-like birds with the waiter. I was being serious. The children apparently would never dream of appearing silly in front of strangers.

When I am at home alone, my entire house is a place that feels much like my car. I'm pretty free. It's not as contained as my car. I know on occasion that neighbors must hear me singing and being crazy and wonder if they should call for a straight jacket. They haven't, though, so that's good. That may explain, however, why they look at me odd sometimes.

When I am not home alone, there are two places that are somewhat safe for me to live very free. One of those is the kitchen. For the most part I can hear people coming if I'm not playing music too loud or have in my earphones. The safest of places to be crazy when people are home is definitely the basement. Well... today when we got home from lunch I went to the basement, earphones in, to finish folding a load of laundry. I had a decent sense of where everyone else was in the house .....so I thought.  Laundry folding generally takes me about three times as long as it should because that is my favorite place to dance and sing. I take frequent dance breaks. When I do that I go around the corner to the back part of the basement. Today I was dancing like a fool and I turned around to come back to my folding table and Hubby Guy was standing there stunned with tears of laughter threatening to spill out of his eyes. I was busted. I confessed to him that I act that way regularly in the basement. It was a fun moment because he feigned mortification. He thought it was great, though, I could tell.

I long for a time and a community where I can be fully me without being concerned about what people might think.

On One of These Things Is Not Like The Others

It's time now for a brief departure from my overriding blog topic of late.

Gymnastics season has started. This week is try-out week.

This is my third season as head coach. The plan for season one was to survive the coaching transition. The retiring coach was greatly loved and is still a teacher at the school. That was REALLY hard. She and I have very dissimilar coaching styles. I managed to successfully pull it off.  My second season was about establishing direction and fully implementing my own style of coaching. We also spent a lot of effort on promoting the program within the school and raising awareness of our team. I have BIG PLANS for this year. They are exciting plans. This is a building year. This year is all about creating a strong foundation.

We were so successful last year in promoting our team to the school that I had 25 girls show up for try-outs!! 25. I still can hardly believe that. As a new coach that was really encouraging. That is a very positive indicator. The flip side of that, though, is I don't have gym space, equipment, coaching staff, or practice time to keep that many. Fortunately, 2 of those didn't have the required physicals done so they were unable to participate. That left me with 23. Tonight I cut 4. That leaves me with 19. 16 is the number I have had the last 2 years. 16 is A LOT. It maxes out everything we have. So now things get tricky.

Coaching is hard. I find myself torn. On one hand I have my sport. I take it very seriously. I love my sport. I credit it for SO MUCH positive in my own life. I have a respect for it and I know what it takes to be successful at it.  On the other hand is the people aspect of coaching. I appreciate the opportunity to invest in high school students. It was the time in my life when I needed the most support. I struggle with balancing both aspects. I know the background of some of the kids trying out for the team. They don't have the necessary skills, but could sure use the positive and safe, inclusive environment that the team would provide. Cutting the 4 I had to cut tonight was brutal on the "people" side of the equation. It made me feel ill.

Now I'm left with deciding who gets a varsity spot, who gets a JV spot, do I cut one event wonders, do I take a gamble on a couple multiple sport participants, etc. AND... can I handle having 19 people in the gym at least twice a week and 13 on the other days. Or.. do I chicken out and cut a couple more?  My brain is freaking out.

On How My Friends Are Lot Like Water Wings

A couple of years ago Hubby Guy and I went through some training for how to deal with children like ours. In one session they introduced the concept of "shark music". We watched the same video of a beautiful path through the woods that opens up onto a gorgeous beach. The first time we watched the video it had nice peaceful music behind it. The second time we saw the video it had a really creepy, sinister sounding music track behind it.We spent the session talking about how perception can be easily tainted by what's in the background for a person. One person's best case scenario can be chock-full of fear and trepidation for the person standing right next to them.

Today has been a "shark music" kind of day for me. Things keep happening that tease my particular sensitivities. I've felt rather tentative emotionally-speaking. This morning was rainy and unpleasant. That didn't help AT ALL. BUT..... the sun came out and now it's spectacular outside. I'm feeling much better for the moment. My analytical side has taken over. I'm pretty sure God cleared up the skies just for me today.

From my "castle".... inside "my bubble"... I felt very detached. I was able to compartmentalize every little thing. Everything was filed away with precious little of it causing any real emotion or actual feeling. I lived above my world. I was determined to be controlled by no one ever. I'm learning now to be present and a part of my world. It isn't subject to me. I'm in it. To me that has felt a lot like floating in the ocean out of my depth. I have feelings. It's weird.

I was thinking today about how blessed I am to have such an amazing support system to help me transition into my new-found freedom. I was mentally cataloging "my crew". I may or may not have said before that lots of the time inside my head things look very Saturday morning cartoon-like. Well, I realized that my crew are a lot like water wings for me. I'm ok splashing around out of my depth until I learn to swim because I have a support system that helps keep me afloat.

On Learning How to Breathe

This past August our family went to Hawaii. We were there for 10 days. It's a place my Hubby Guy had on his bucket list. While we were there we made sure to do everything that was on any of our "lists" that could take place way, way, way, way out in the Pacific. My top priority was having Hawaiian Shaved Ice IN Hawaii. Simple..yes...but important to me. Don't judge.

Those who know me know that I married THE BEST Hubby Guy for me. He takes such good care of me. We enjoy our time together. We live a somewhat spoiled existence. We've been able to take some nice trips. It has seemed for several journeys now that snorkeling has come up. He has always wanted to go snorkeling. I have always balked at the idea. He also wants me to go whitewater rafting. Of that I am positively terrified. I'm scared of having an out-of-boat experience. Water really isn't my thing. I can manage lounging in a pool or in a boat in easy waters. That is about it.

Well, Hubby Guy decided that he would be snorkeling in Hawaii even if he had to go by himself. My guilt-o-meter couldn't stand that notion so I agreed to go. In fact, the whole family went. I spent literally days psyching myself up. Once we were there I took the lame "First-timers class" on the boat before I jumped in. The adventure started really rough. Firstly, the instructor told us to spray the special sauce into our masks so they wouldn't fog. I didn't have the patience to wait and wade through the people, etc. so I decided to go sans special sauce. Mistake.  Secondly, When I finally was in the water and away from the boat I decided to try the whole "snorkel concept - i.e. breathe with my face underwater."  I couldn't get myself to do it. Every time I stuck my face in the water and tried to breathe I sounded like I was ugly crying and trying to suck in air. It was crazy. I felt very panicky and I felt like every nerve was on end. Eventually the kid in my charge wanted to get back on the boat so we took a break. During the break I renewed my resolve to conquer the "snorkel concept". Before going back into the water I got some special sauce for my mask. I learned my lesson. I got back in the water and guess what.... I relaxed enough to get the hang of it. I was excited.

We ultimately went to a second snorkel site. My poor family had turned green after the first site. They decided to convalesce on the boat and forgo the second adventure. I, armed with my new skill of breathing with my face in the water, decided to go ahead and go alone.  THE COOLEST THING happened!!! I encountered a sea turtle. He swam right up to me.

For the last week I've felt like I did when I was trying to figure out how to breathe with my face in the water. I've felt somewhat panicky. I've been fighting the urge to just "get back on the boat" or, more appropriate for the moment, start rebuilding the castle. The notion of striving feels like part of my DNA. It feels wrong to just relax. I realized today, I need to relax and learn how to breathe. This whole living out of who God says I am is a new concept I'm tackling. Like any other new thing I will need to learn new skills. It's a change. BUT.... really cool stuff is waiting for me to learn the skill.  I'm excited.

On Sunshine and Rainbows

The following is lifted from the Facebook status of a friend (Rebekah W). She is an amazing young woman and what she has to say completely hit the mark for where I find myself at the moment:

 

      I am reminded of a statement that C.S. Lewis made “It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”~ C.S. Lewis,  The Weight of Glory

 I forget too easily that I am to "Be still and know He is God" Ps. 41:10 and that I am not made to perform but to bear the image of Almighty God in a manner that accurately reflects His character and nature. Preaching the Gospel to my heart today! Eph.2!

 

 

I've had a chain of several rough days. When it rains it pours. Last night I was with a trusted friend disclosing my thoughts. I've been feeling very "stuck" since Saturday. Though it felt very good to wring out my brain on her couch, I didn't leave there necessarily feeling like I had any more answers than I went there with.

 

This morning, though, while doing my hair, God spoke to my heart. I was reminded of what Rebekah said, "I am not made to perform but to bear the image of Almighty God in a manner that accurately reflects His character and nature."  This is the thought I had: In this life there will be pain. That is a fact. Scripture doesn't offer another option. In my hunt for authenticity, I have neglected something major. My performance-based, castle-dwelling lifestyle calls for perpetual sunshine and rainbows. It calls for me to fake it until I make it. Under my new paradigm, I neglected to plan for times when I hurt, for times when unresolved sin drags me back into the pit. The truth is those things are a part of life too. I'm realizing now, DUH!, that performance and authenticity can't coexist. I feel like I should have saved this post for Halloween because that last sentence to me is SCARY!!!!

 

To deal with pain, struggles, unresolved sin, etc..... I will have to trust God with a trust that feels to me very unnatural. I have to completely ban self-sufficiency.  I'm pretty sure I'm having heart palpitations right now! AND.... I'm gonna have to lay down the pride that has kept me from being appropriately vulnerable.  *Insert scary music*  And the plot thickens. God can handle it. Moreover, He wants to handle it. He wants me to trust Him with all of me.

 

 

Fave verse for today:

 

Deuteronomy 31:6

Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB)

⁶ Be strong and courageous; don’t be terrified or afraid of them. For it is the Lord your God who goes with you; He will not leave you or forsake you.”

On the Benefits of Honesty

A few months ago I ran across Dr. Carmella's Guide to Understanding the Introvert. I found it incredible and 100% accurate. I can't figure out who wrote it, but I love it! Out of the whole thing, though, the picture above has stayed with me.

I've been living in "happy town" for several weeks now. I've been absolutely surrounded by an amazing support system. WELL, this weekend I'm away. Off with a bunch of weird theater people who live in a parallel plane that doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. I'm isolated. I'm alone with myself. I'm lonely.

My former bubble wasn't healthy. BUT.... in a way, it did protect me. At least that's what I thought. When you keep yourself isolated from people, you hurt, but you don't get hurt by people as much. Being hurt by people is what drove me into the bubble in the first place. I made the conscious choice years ago to close myself off... to let very few in.

Sometimes I waver. I'm really enjoying letting people in. This morning, though, my feelings got hurt. I responded. I responded by isolating myself and drowning my sorrows in fat and calories. I dove right back into that bubble without any thought. I verbally punched the person who hurt me. It was awful. I retreated. Yuck! I didn't like it. It was sadly familiar. I hated it. But then... I recovered. I wallowed for a bit, but then I did something WILD and CRAZY. True story. I climbed out of the bubble, went downstairs, found some of my weird people, and confessed about having a pity party. (Aside - I like to take mental pictures of facial expressions I get from others when I say stuff sometimes - like the validation face I got from my youngest a couple of weeks ago) I got the BEST FACE from one of the "weirds".  She was blown away that a stranger to her had just talked about something so "gut level".  Right after that the strangest thing happened. The three of us, all mothers of high school girls,  were really honest with each other about how our children make us feel sometimes. We had a moment of shared understanding. You know what? That moment was freeing. I realized that the bubble, though it feels safe, actually isolates me. It doesn't protect me, it keeps me locked away from the people or environments that can support me. Moreover, it perpetuates the emotionally dishonest lifestyle that our society embraces. When I was honest with my peers, they were honest with me too and we all benefitted from the conversation. That, my friends, is how it should be. It's how it was designed, before sin with all of it's shame and hiding hijacked what was beautiful and made people start to hide.

On Removing the Dam From My River of Creativity

This weekend I am at the Virginia Theater Association Annual Conference. I have been surrounded all day by "drama people". Several thousand (it seems) of those "drama people" are also teenagers. Interesting.  I have also encountered some odd adults..... older "drama people".  Even more interesting.

All day for the first two days (today and tomorrow), aside from breakout sessions for learning how to be EVEN MORE DRAMATIC, high school One Act teams are taking turns performing their plays. There are 44 high school teams in attendance. Between getting here, which is where the sporting part of this competition takes place, and finding rooms...eating lunch...and tracking the group I'm here to keep control of.... I've seen 3 plays. Again..... Interesting.

Soon after I took my seat in the auditorium for the first show, a very odd bird-like woman sat next to me. After a couple of seconds of sitting there she looked right at me and said, "Well, hello there" in an odd sing-songy voice. She went on to ask if I was a teacher or chaperone. When I declared my chaperone role she asked if I planned on attending shows or breakout sessions too. I shared that I would be solely watching shows. Quickly she broke out her little book of all the things going on and pointed me to a breakout session just for parents. The title is "My Student Wants to Study Theater in College: What Do I Do Next?" .  When I assured her that my "student" wants to get a life and a real career she practically snarled at me. Good times.

People watching is premium here. There are people everywhere! It's better than the mall at Christmastime.  I'm feeling somewhat startled at myself that I'm not downstairs right now just sitting and watching. I haven't really felt like it. I have a theory.

A few weeks ago I was sharing with a friend that I used to be very creative. One day, though, it just left me.  I've really struggled with that because it was something about myself that I really enjoyed. Being in this environment has made me somewhat mourn my creativity. Although there have already been wonderful benefits from living this "new life", I'm certain that the return of my creativity might just be ushered in as well.  That will be fun! This weekend definitely has sparked the "want" for me to unleash my creative side. In the interim, though, being surrounded by really creative people feels very unnatural.

On Joy

I am blown away right now.

At the beginning of the month a friend of mine sent me a link to a blog post that someone had written about her kids who are adopted from foster care. I immediately identified with her heart. I understood what relatively few can understand.  I was so moved by what she wrote that I went back to the beginning of her blog and read every word that she has written. Somewhere along the line I decided to reach out and tell her "thank you".

One of the ugly accusations that has been ruling my life is that "I'm unworthy". Those words run through my head regularly on a ticker tape. Those words will take time to overcome. One lesson I learned a very long time ago was to have expectations of acceptance from no one. I just accepted that no one would want to be around me. I don't need to "inflict" myself on people.

Last week I reached out to the blogger again.... I must be crazy or something. I simply told her that based on her blog we've had some common experiences. Since we're from the same community I offered to "go for a walk sometime". She responded positively.  Well today she wrote something that prompted me to ask if she wanted to walk today.... and she did. So I got together with an almost complete stranger. WUT?! I didn't think about it. I just did it.

Today I wasn't "inflicted" on anyone. I met a kindred spirit. Moreover, I DID have something to offer. I had matching experiences and ears to listen. God is good. Today by simply chatting with a friend I both felt God's love and showed His love to someone else. I am overjoyed.

Tuesday...Take 2

This morning was really weird for Hubby Guy and myself.

Scott is the rooster in our house. He is the one that declares it morning. He is the one who sets the alarm. We all happily let him fulfill that role. I know it's time to get up when he comes out of the bathroom and wakes me up.

So this morning he came and woke me up. I was not happy about it because I was sound asleep and dreaming. I always have a terrible time getting up when I'm awakened from a dream. When I finally sat up I noticed 2 things. The first was that it was profoundly dark outside for 7:00 in the morning. The other was that the clock on top of the dresser was wrong. It said 4:38. I wondered how it got messed up. I managed to scrape myself out of bed and get in the shower.

When I was drying off Scott knocked on the door and told me to come out of the bathroom before I finished getting ready. He said he needed to show me something. That was an unusual request. My mind went crazy wondering what the mystery would be. I hurriedly dried off and left the bathroom.

Upon my emergence, Scott asked me to look at his alarm clock. I did. It was just before 7. Then he asked me to look at the clock on top of the dresser. It was just before 5. As it turns out, the clock on top of the dresser was correct. We were up 2 hours early!  He had gotten up and gotten ready. He went downstairs to let the dogs out and one refused to go. He sat down to watch his stock shows and wondered why the programming was different today. He looked a the clocks downstairs and thought perhaps that one of the kids had messed with them because they were wrong too.  At some point he realized, Duh!... his alarm clock had been messed up.

So... we went back to bed and slept for almost 2 hours!  As I was drifting off to sleep I told Scott I always do want a morning nap at some point before I leave the house. This morning I got a nice one.