I Love My Kids

It's Halloween.  And my kids are going trick or treating.  Did I mention that one of them is in his third year of college?  hahahhaa.  It's so much fun.  So delightful.  First, chili and fruit.  Maybe they will finally eat more??? Or maybe not.  You know how it goes.  We provide it but it doesn't mean they eat it.  But what a wonderful thing that they remember the fun and want to keep it up.  Makes me think how fun it will be with their kids too.  What a good thought.
Getting ready is 75% of the fun.  Seriously, we have a box of costumes and pieces and they absolutely love doing it......with great delight.  And laughter.  And total abandon without fear of being stupid.  I really like that.
I was thinking today how I have raised them to go after their passions.  Go after the things that God has put inside of them that make them uniquely them.  I am proud of that.  Proud that they are doing so.  Proud that they aren't afraid of risk.  On Halloween.  Or the other 364 days of the year.  Not afraid to be themselves.
grace to you.

Permission

I do not need permission to do things.  However, I have recently realized that there is a void in my life that others have.  Without a mama or sister, I have no other woman to validate my desires and needs.  To let me know that it would be not only ok, but a good thing to do something.  I don't have a mama to call when I'm sick or trying to make a decision.  Someone to unload the burden of hurts, hopes, dreams, worries.  Nobody to tell me when I need to simply take time for me.  Nobody to help me feel "right" or at least understood.  And that is hard.  And I need to acknowledge how hard it is so that I can get over it and start telling myself.
But, it will never be easy.  Because as a woman, I was made for community...made for interrelating.  And trying to figure it out alone is hard.
Sometimes I reach out to get the nudge, but it's too much to put on others.  They have their own things.  Their own worries.  Their own network of how to get answers.  And I don't.
Another little part of growing up.  Not older....just wiser.....more confident.
I want to go visit my son and yet I know that my husband will come unglued.  But, as his mom, I want to give him that gift.  It has been on my heart for weeks.  How to honor and still get what I desire and need.  How to make sure my other kids get what they need.  It's a painful time.  But, it is a decision that I can make.  Though it be hard.  I'll let you know.
grace to you.

Blessed

I had a good day.  My heart is at rest...at least mostly.  I have to have constant reminders.  Yet, I can tell that I am much more relaxed.  That's a very good thing.  Healthy.  Helps me.  I can tell by  the good kind of tired I feel.  Sleepy tired.  Not distressed let me put my head under a blanket and let the world go be weary.
I like being thankful.  It is good and right.  And I have so much to be thankful for.  The songs I posted I heard right when I got in the car to come home.  Remind Me Who I Am is beautiful.  So easy to get caught up in failure.  In shame.  Forget that I am His beloved.  But He is willing to remind me...even with a song.
And, I got to have time with a friend.  I didn't share how amazing it was and how ridiculously good....but I think that she knew.
My husband still doesn't get that I don't want to play the game of everything is fine.  He still doesn't get how much it wounds me for him to continually ignore my needs and plow ahead with his agenda.  But I don't have to fix it or worry about it.  Well, I'm sure that I will some.  And, it is still hard to be in the living room....but, I have a sense that I will be ok.  That I have a place to be.  I am warm.  I am fed.  I am loved by many....even if he never got it.  So, I need to let go.  Release.  And focus on living.  Breathing.  Believing.  Loving.  As much as possible.  Because, the person that causes me so much hurt and discomfort shouldn't be taking up this much space in my brain.  Nor this much time and energy from my emotions.  I need  to put that aside.  It's like a roller coaster.  Sometimes he's mad.  Sometimes he's pathetic.  Sometimes he's sullen.  But, it's always my fault.  But..........newsflash...........IT'S NOT!!! Because I am not responsible for his behavior.  I am responsible for mine.  Clarity is good.  Very good.
grace to you.

Jonny Diaz-More Beautiful you lyrics

Jason Gray - Remind Me Who I Am (Official Music Video)

Awkward

Being separated while married has some awkward moments.  Today was one.  There are things I have always done with the kids.  Like getting pumpkins.  Went today to the pumpkin patch where my boys work to pick some up.  Well, I wasn't there long, and my husband showed up.  Ran down.  Literally.  It was...awkward.  It is hard to explain to him that everything isn't hunky dory.  And that making it more awkward doesn't lead to healing.  It just makes me gun shy.  But, I didn't absolutely freak out.  At least I had my overnight to help me.  He wants what he wants.  Without regard to anything else.  Guess he'll have to get it in his own time.
grace to you.

Give

Give me the words.  Oh please, my Father.  And a heart of compassion.  Because I know that the pain that I will cause is going to be great.  Even if it's not over the loss of me, it will be a loss of his sense of security.  Give me guidance.  Your Spirit.  Your filling of courage.  Give me hope.  Give him a sense of Your presence.  Walk with him.  Help him.  Be His strength.  And let him give me the ability to breathe and see what we need to do and where we need to go.  Give Your blessing.  And Your peace beyond understanding. 
amen

Well Now

I really could use another day...because now I am ready to write my book.  I am going to write a fun, real, and insightful book.  About the things of life that touch me deeply.  That make me think.  That make me...breathe...or not breathe.  And, I can do it.  And some parts might stink, but the great part about writing is that I can go back and edit. 
I need to take this kind of time more, not less.  Because it revives me so quickly.  It's not that I am hateful or mean.  It's just that I can only give so much.  Even if I am relying on God, I am NOT God, as I have had to tell my husband over the years.  Over and over.  You don't lean on Him through me.  You lean directly.  Not saying that you don't carry those you love when necessary, but not for every little thing.  The body needs to all be leaning on God and ALSO on each other.  Not JUST on God or JUST on each other. 
Gonna make lunch.  And put together stuff.  And enjoy the fact that I am LIVING.   Going to celebrate it by DOING so. 
About the job...not quite sure that I'm ready for it.  Still trying to figure so much out.  But I'm going t trust God with it since I applied for this job as a kind of "fleece" being thrown out there and seeing.  Letting Him decide.  Because He knows me better than I know myself. 
So, I did forget to bring a comb or cute shoes in my rush to pack....sigh.  However, that was pretty good considering the scxrutiny I was under while getting ready.
I'm going to go see my son and also take a day or two for just me.  Go to the beach and walk and be still and write.  Maybe that's why I'm not ready for a full time job?  Perhaps.  But, I am going to get back on the subbing routine.  I need to.  It was just hard.  But, I hunkered down, and now I'll get up.  I hid and now I'll be visible.  Because I am NOT invisible.  Though he truly makes me feel it.  But, I am realizing that I can give him some grace about it....he can't help it if I'm not the woman who evokes deep love.  He has stayed.  He has worked.  He has not beaten me.  You see, there are good things.  I just want....better things.  Not a man.  No goofy, not a woman either.  Not a person...just peace.  Just space to enjoy the blessings of and eventually I'll have my beach house.  And, I'll travel.  And, I will love those around me openly and without so much binding up my heart and soul.  I want to be the woman who doesn't second guess.  Who LIVES.  When I die, I want people to know that I actually lived...loved...and made a difference in those few lives close to me. 
grace to you.
I

Pretty

A pretty nightgown and a cup of coffee.  Not for romance.  Not for impressing.  Just for me.  And it's simply luxurious.  I bought this cotton gown months ago and have never worn it.  I shoved it in my bag last night as I hurried to pack.  It's cotton and comfy.  It was just right to sleep in...and I don't like all gowns for sleeping in.  And I knew that it must have been God whispering in my ear when I decided to go ahead and buy it all of that time ago.  Because He knew that I would need it last night.  That it would help in the resting and healing.  I love that.  I feel loved.  Cared for.  He knew and met my need.  Wow.  Tears in the eyes wow.  I am blessed.  I am going to make it.  I am going to thrive.
grace to you.

Change

The only thing in life that I can change is me.  And that requires great care.  I should change those things that are unkind and unloving.  Not that are strong or simply different.  It's easy to get caught up in trying to change the things that make life better or easier for others.  But, sometimes that entails giving up or changing the foundations of who I am.....and then, I fall apart.  Can't pull out the foundation.  Can change how I behave.  Can't change how I was made or who I was made to be. 
It has been a good night to be away.  Mourning a little bit that there's not more time, and yet, seeing my daughter is one of the high points of any day of my life.  So, I want to be there with her.  Having her gone last night made being gone ok.
The stability of our family and home were shaken by the recent exit of two fine young men...my older sons.  They each had a place in the foundation of our home and life and having them gone has made each other thing that much bigger.  I'm so glad for them that sometimes I forget how much I hurt over it.  I am proud and happy and they are too.  But, also suffering and hurting.  A sense of loss.  And that's ok.  Letting go is painful but a gift of growing.  And I just need to cut myself some slack for being such a mess lately.
The clarity that came to me as I prayed and was quiet and showered as long as I wanted and hogged a huge bed.......was that my husband is incapable of caring for me.  We have been through such hard times and he has never held onto me...he also wants me to hold onto him.  To comfort him.  To make all right in the world.  And while I have been willing to do that for so long, I can't.  His need isn't love.  It's simply need.  And maybe fear.  And my love for him does not mean that I have to give up everything I am and everything I need in order to keep it together.  I feel ashamed that I was never able to evoke in him that protective response...that sense that he could care about me as much as he cares about him.  I'm not the woman who does that for him.  I don't know if there's one that does. 
I don't know what will happen with the job on Tuesday.  But I do know that whatever happens, I don't walk alone.  And that I am able and allowed to make good decisions about things that affect me.  And I know that there is grace and forgiveness.  I needed this night to find peace and balance.  It was all off and all of my energy was focused on the wrong thing.  Peace is a good thing.  It is like it infuses the air with extra oxygen.  And His peace isn't just in this room.  It's in Him.  And He's in me.
So, I'm terrified to go back and yet brave enough too.  Seems weird.  But it's true.  Because I can change.  I can grow.  And I can say what I need.  And if he doesn't listen.....which is unlikely since I've said it all over and over again....I can still do and be what I need.  He doesn't have to approve.  Though, it would be nice if he ever had approved of me in general.  His failings don't need to dictate where I put my energy.  I want to be happy.  I choose happy.  I choose light in my eyes and a relaxed posture and face.  And I'm going to try...and try again.  I might be weary, but I am NOT weak.
grace to you.

I am

Safe. Loved.  Blessed.  Cared for.  Worth it. 
That's as far as I got before I started having trouble.  Because really, tonight I am just beginning to relax.  I ran away from home at age 46.  A little sad.  And really wonderful.  It's as if the air in the hotel room has more oxygen in it.  I only wish that I had two nights so that tomorrow morning I wouldn't have to get up and get going.  But, regardless, I have tonight to be free. 
He was angry.  He couldn't give this to me.  Couldn't say, "go and have a good time. I hope it's relaxing."  Nope, that couldn't happen.  Too bad.  Because if he knew me at all after all of these years he would know that this is how I've always been.  Needing quiet times.  Needing to be left to myself.  Needing to not be stressed.  I have been so stressed. 
Learning that needing and being jealous do not equal love.  Not in any way.  But I'm also learning that even though he has it confused that doesn't mean that I wasn't worth it.  Well, learning...not have learned.  Because sometimes I wonder why.  And I wonder why he couldn't give.  And I wonder why he wants to hold on and make me stay when he knows how horribly depressed I am.  Hurts me. 
And I have a place that I can cry tonight.  And laugh.  And write.  And sleep.  And not for anyone else.  Just for me.  Sounds selfish.  But, it's actually a gift to all....taking care of me so that I can be a better mom, employee and friend.  Because I have been pretty over the edge all week. 
In the midst of it all, though it is so hard, though I am so sad, I am not suicidal nor in any way giving up.  Tired?  Desperately so.  But not beaten.  Nope.  For He who is in me is stronger than he who is in the world.  Yep.  That's good news. 
grace to you.

Running Away

I am not myself.  Can't seem to cope as well as usual.  Kids are all gone.  Boys working.  Daughter at a birthday party.  Home with only husband and I literally feel like I'm coming out of my skin.  Shaking so bad.  Can't get warm.  Want to weep.  Could go some places...but they are all public also.  So, I am thinking that I will run away for the night.  A hotel.  I need to help myself get it back together.  It's nobody else's problem and nobody else can know how I am feeling.  Though there are lots of caring loving people.  I sense that I am going to have to figure this out.  Somehow.  I just don't know why it's so hard right now.  Just is.  I just want to sleep or rest or write or work without this overwhelming feeling haunting me.  It's so.........wearing.  And no family to go crash at their house.  What a sad thing.
Marriage has become like a mini pad that gets turned wrong......a pain in the butt.  Try to move and it pulls and hurts.  But, you can't yell or scream.  Nobody is supposed to talk about it.
I hope that I can get through this, because this is totally not me.......helllllp, Lord.
grace to you.

Job Interview

I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I was so overwhelmed, so......depressed.....after I got word that I have a job interview.  The responsibility?  The nervousness of the interview?  I really sucked at my last interview.  But, I was too tired and too emotionally drained to figure it out.  I didn't tell my kids.  I certainly didn't tell my husband.  Then, I had a good night's sleep.  Whew.  And I get it.  At least in part.  If  have a job, I will truly be able to decide which direction I'm going in maritally.  And I want a separation.  I don't know if it's forever, but I know that I need the time to simply heal  and get good rest and do what I need to do.  And the other thing is that I don't want to tell him about the job interview because my getting a paying job is about the only thing he cares about about me.  This last week he was asking me if I was subbing...each day.....and I know that as the week went on and I said no, he was frustrated. 
So, I have an interview.  Getting the job or not, it's a good experience.  And, whether I feel ready or not, I know that I can teach.  I can do it.  AND, I'd get time off for holidays and summer.  Who doesn't love that?  If I taught a half session of summer school, I would get to take the kids on a nice vacation.  Hard to get my hopes up.  I think that that is part of the problem.  I know that what they really want is for me to go back to school.  To be "modernized."  But, I'll just have to find somewhere that will take me as I am.  Because I don't have it in me to get another degree this year.  But, God knows that.  And He knows me.  And, I fear the feeling that I will never be allowed to get a job until I perform.....yet, God isn't like that.  I'll just rest and let Him love me.  And, job or not, I will be fine. 
grace to you.

The Resting Factor

I don't use sleep aids anymore.  Well, I'm not saying that I never would, just that I haven't done so in the last few months.  But, this last week, I was TIRED.  I mean, I just wasn't sleeping w  body was on constant alert.  Not worry.  Just like there was not off button.  I couldn't relax.  I couldn't rest.  I did for me to constantly be wondering if he's coming home,  Constantly be in the middle of things when I'm sleeping in the living room.  Of not having a place to go.  Of him always being able to see me.  Always being able to show up.  Anytime.  I think that it's because he has come in after I have fallen asleep lately and startled me.  It makes me feel really vulnerable.  And then, when I was at a friend's doing some work in the garage, he kept being right there with me.  Again, quietly and as a surprise.  So, this week, I just couldn't shut down and rest.  Until last night.  Went to a friend's last night and fell asleep in her chair watching tv.  And I was actually sleepy and relaxed when I woke up.  And, thankfully, it carried over to my night.  I made my pallet...I sleep better on it than the couch usually, but it gets a little tiring making it and folding it all up and putting it away...I laid down, and I SLEPT.   The kind of sleep that you wake up feeling relaxed.  Not hyper vigilant.  Practicing relaxing.  No matter my circumstances or where I lie my head, nobody gets to steal my peace and rest.  It's a gift.  I don't have to "pay for it."  The world looks like a much better place when I feel rested.  Thanks be to God!
grace to you.

Hurt Feelings

You know, sometimes the pain just keeps coming.  I often think that I am over being able to "have my feelings hurt"...that I am growing up and learning how to cope with the wide variety of messages that come along in life.  But, you know, sometimes thing after thing just threatens to knock me off of my feet.  Today was kind of a rough day.  But it's nearly time to go get my kids.  And time for me to realize that I can't control circumstances, but I can control moping.  I am just sadder than I thought I could be. 
Maybe a nap?  Ha.  No, life goes on.  And the hits might keep coming.  I need to flee to the Shelter of the Most High.  But, I also need to figure out what I should do about the cannons that keep firing in my direction.  Perhaps there is a way to take them out of commission?  I hope so. 
grace to you.

Growing Up

It's quite a miracle.  I think that I'm growing up a little bit.  I had always associated it with growing cynical or hard...and I don't want to do that, ever.  It's easy to lean that way when being hurt, but really, I like the tender side of life.  The side that says that there is hope.  That looks for good things.
How will I keep that sense and still get out from under the troubles of my marriage?  I am not sure, but I know that it can be done.  Because it's important to me.  I mean, what is the point of getting out of it or away from the "ickiness" if I BECOME the ickiness?
My husband has issues.  That's all there is to it.  And I can't fix them.  Well, get me a mallet, and I can try.  But, seriously, he doesn't really want to fix anything.  He just wants me to go back to making life feel good.  Feel right.  Feel....successful.  But I was to do good, do right and be successful....not just manufacture a facade of those things.  I want to live.  I want to breathe.  I want to know that it's ok for me to do so.  Not constantly looking over my shoulder awaiting judgement on what I am or am not doing.  It's....wearing.  And it sucks life right out of me.  Like he has a straw pushed into my heart and soul.  I'm expecting to hear a sucking sound any moment saying that he drained it dry. 
Or, maybe I'm not.  Because I am making new choices.  New directions.  New responsibilities.  It's going to be good.  I choose it.  I want to grow up, not grow mean.  Grow in kindness.  Grow in strength.  I want to be me.  Not a reflection of what I am being because someone has been mean to me. 
grace to you

Passion

In all of life, there is no greater drive than passion.  Not fear.  Not money.  Not success.  Not power.  Passion.  The driving force that allows me to move forward on a seemingly impossible quest.  To believe through the pain and troubles.  It is the gift that God gives.  With the gifts He bestows.  Not only are the gifts instilled, but they are imbued with passion to cause the recipient to have an unquenchable desire to USE their gifts.  How do I know?  Because I write.  Because I have passion to write.  Not because I am professional nor trained.  Because I was gifted to share in this way.  To draw people into a life story or situation and help them work it through in their minds as I work it through in mine.  It never really feels like it's for someone else...but, I am learning to believe it anyway.
I have been writing my story.  For real.  My marriage.  My pain.  My joy.  Oh my goodness.  It's hard.  And, it simply flows.  Chapter after chapter.  Except for when my husband is expected.  Then, I shut down.  My mind closes.  My fingers shake. 
I am not at all certain that I can write anything worthy of publishing.  I have no "craft"as I recently read.  No literary training.  No high organizational plan.  I have a direction.  A map.  A journey to walk people along.  But, it's impossible to see if it works.  If I give it to someone to read they will be encouraging whether it's good or not.  And I've heard from my husband how I don't have what it takes.  I understand what he's saying.  Really, I am nobody spectacular.  That is the reason I think that my book would be well read....because I am just like so many other christian women.  Who have tried.  And tried.  And tried.  Who believe and love. 
But whether my book gets published or shelved, I will write it.  Of course, if it's not published it's not really a book, now is it?  Doesn't matter.  This God given passion drives me forward.  And whatever His purpose, I know that it's for good.  Whether it is simply for my healing and clarity or to help others, it doesn't really matter.  The whole point is the journey.  The learning.  The faith to take another step when the way is unclear and the destination not a specific place but taking a specific way.  I choose His way.  He is healing me.  Though my husband would disagree.  He would say that I'm becoming heartless.  Not true at all.  More heart than ever.  And more courage.  This time I'm simply using it for myself as well as others.  And he doesn't like that.
grace to you.

A Good Talking To

Sometimes I need a good talking to.  Not really chewed out...but being firmly told to get off my butt and stop being a child and go DO something about it.  Whatever "it" might be.  Today was one of those days.  Actually, probably the whole week has been one of those weeks.  However, not many people have the inside scoop in my life, so not many people would recognize the desperate place that I have been in. 
Self doubt.  Self pity. (I wrote self pit and had to correct....but, pit seems appropriate too.)  Self loathing.  It has been a rough week.  Really rough. 
The whole idea of writing a book has been a part of me for so long.  Not because I am a professional writer, but because "when I write, I feel His pleasure"....I stole that from a friend....I feel bonded.  I feel as if it is an act of worship.  I know, off my rocker.  Probably so.  Not a great surprise, seeing as how difficult my life has been lately.  But, still...that is the genuine truth.  It isn't about seeing my name in print.  It isn't even about seeing my thoughts in print.  It is about the ACT itself.  The sharing is just an added benefit. 
But, this week, I wanted to give up the idea.  Totally.  Overwhelmed.  Consumed by doubt.  Feeling stupid.  Feeling untalented.  The attacks came hard and fast. 
And my friend found me cowering in the corner with my hands over my head, weeping....."stop, please stop."  And she not so gently told me to get up.  To do what it is that I do.  To try different ways.  To quote Nike, "just do it".  And I was blessed and stunned and glad and rebuked all at once.  I wanted to say, "but you don't know how bad it is! you don't understand what I'm up against.  But, honestly, of all of my friends, this friend understands a big battle.  So, I shut up and listened.And, even more, I chose to believe her words of truth over the accusations flying around in my heart and mind.  And it was healing.  And, I'm on chapter two.
Now, he came home and I'm shaking and trembling...but, I figured it out.  And, nobody can take that away from me.
grace to you.

Two or More

Where two or more are gathered, there I am in their midst.  Guilt can only be established based on the testimony of at least two.  A strand of three cords is not quickly broken.  When two lie down together, they keep warm.  That is the problem of my day.  I am alone in this dilemma.  Because I don't want to broadcast that I want to write a book because someone would tell my husband.  The kids heard my speaking about a publisher and wanted to know if I was writing a book!  AAAaaaarrrrggghhhh.  But, on the other hand, I need to not be alone.  I can't do this all alone.  I will hear the wrong voice.  I will hear the voice of failure.  And, blessedly and wonderfully, I don't want to, so I want to take steps to protect myself from that.  I need prayers.  For protection and guidance.  And I need a couple of people to believe in me.  Not because I ask them to...but just because they do.  That is my prayer.  My hope.  My deepest desire.  To be able to move forward.  Not necessarily on the contest...but, at least on the writing of the book.  The contest has been a catalyst.  Now, what I do depends on being willing to go through the wilderness.......because, I trust that there is a promised land.
grace to you.

Nothing New Under the Sun

Perhaps what I would write would not be necessary.  Perhaps it has all been written before.  Perhaps I should just face the fact that he's right.  He has the good story telling skills.  The degree.  I encouraged him to write a children's book many years ago.  He had taken a class.  Wrote for it.  A post college class. And he went to modeling school...even bought the make up and stuff.  When we had hardly any money and he was unemployed.  I encouraged him when he discovered that opportunity too.  Applauded his runway walk.  You know, he really is talented.  But the thing is that he can't help anyone else do or be better at something.  Like the boys playing basketball.  One of our boys was really a good player.  He loved it.  He quit because his dad could never tell him, "you're the man"...always had to tell him how he was better,  how he needed to improve.  So, should I be surprised about his view of my writing?  That he doesn't support? 
But, too many things have happened today and I am flying solo.  A friend has begun writing.  That makes four of them now.  And I wonder, "what new or different or meaningful things could I have to say that all of these wonderful women won't already say?"  My confidence is low.  My heart feels broken. 
I'm not a special writer.  Just a passionate one.  And, passion doesn't make up for skill.  I'm not sure that I DO have that.  I just want the chance to try.  Freely.  But how do I get the stench or so many years of negative stuff out of my nose?  How do I learn to smell the beautiful aroma of hope and trying and what might be? 
Maybe I can't do it while living in the same house.  I don't want it to be another thing that becomes his in my life.  Maybe it already has? 
How is it that marriage could mean this?  Despising my drams for the pain that they cause me.  Because no matter what I ever do....it is never considered great.  Why am I not worth supporting?  I mean, I know that I am....should be....but, if I am, then why?  I don't get it.  It hurts me to my core.  To that scared little child inside that has nightmares.  But, then, I remind myself, "I am a grown up.  I have to behave like one.  I have to make choices to affect my future.  I don't have to condemn myself about my failures."  Oh, I get it.  I believe it.  But, I feel alone believing it.  Feels like being the only one who believed that the earth was round or that the great flood was coming......you KNOW it with everything in you, but it doesn't make it much easier when living in the "real" world.
It was a really hard day.
grace to you.

When Figurative Meets Literal

In my last post, I talked about stepping in dog poop.  I know, not the best metaphor maybe, but it was what came to me to describe how a bad experience regarding my husband "lingers" with me.  Well, awhile ago, I went out to the chicken yard to get some firewood since the weather is supposed to change.  Carried in a fair amount.  Started a fire.  While I was starting a fire, I noticed the........aroma.  I looked at my dogs.  They didn't look guilty.  The cats were outside.  I began searching around the room for "presents".  Nope.  Whew.  Crisis averted.  Or so I thought.
When I went out again to retrieve more wood, I noticed it.  Don't know how it escaped my noticing before.  A great big dog pile right there by I the pile of wood.  I laughed at the irony.  That what was happening to me figuratively had just happened literally.  I completely unexpectedly and unknowingly had stepped in doggy doo.  And I had been living with the effects of my error.  But, ya know what?  When I realized what had happened in the literal world, I literally  TOOK OFF MY SHOES!! Now, I need to learn how to do that figuratively.  Because I don't want to just live with the stink.  I want to get rid of it.
grace to you.

Stage Fright

A call came on my phone today from an out of state number.  I answered.  It was the book publishing company that is co-sponsoring the contest I've entered.  Caught me by surprise.  That's putting it very mildly.  Because they called to question me about my book plans.  About what I planned to write.  How far along etc.  I asked to talk to them later.  I totally froze.  Clammed up.  Began shaking.  Because the call began, "hi, this is (my husband's name) regarding your book. Do you have time to talk to me?"  Seriously?  What is the likelihood of that.  Talk about an attack.  That and the fact that just this morning I decided that I have three different directions going and that I am going to write through each one over some time and see which one shows some possibility. 
But, I want to cry.  I want his criticism out of my head.  I want to focus on what is good and excellent and worthy of praise.  But, it's like walking in the yard and stepping in dog poop by accident....you really don't expect it, but the stench lingers after the event.  Though you move on.  Though you try to clean it off of your shoe.  You get in the car...it's still there.  You go into work, and the scent lingers.  And, his disbelief in my dream, his constant showing of how I am not up to par.....is exactly like that.  It's....embarrassing......although, I did nothing wrong. 
I want to write a "real" book.  Raw.  About what happens.  Even when we pray.  Even when we try.  That not all happy endings look the same.  But, now, I have stage fright.  Need a pep talk, but it's just me.  Don't know what to do.  The publisher asked me to call him back at my convenience.  I just don't know what to say.  Do I talk about my "fluff", happy feelings book.....about the goodness and beauty of God...which I write about often?  Or, do I go for it and write what might actually help someone who really needs a "friend".  As it is, I can't write at this moment.  Frozen.  I'll work for awhile and pray.  And see if I can get past the stench that has permeated my day.
It always surprises me how much power he has over me.  I was always a strong woman who not only coped, but thrived.  What did I allow?  And why?  Because I prostituted myself to buy "love".  That's the bottom line.  I gave up the very heart of who I was because I thought that it would buy me love and acceptance.  And, I did so because I truly believed that that is what God wanted from me....even demanded from me.  I thought that being submissive meant putting myself aside.  No, not always obedient, but second.  And, I am always beneath him.  In his eyes.  He thrives on showing how I can't handle or do something as well as he can.  He makes me feel lousy about myself.  That's how he feels better about himself.  It's not him that I have to be free from...it's my allowing him to have that power.  That place that should only belong to someone who uplifts and cherishes.  It's MY decision.  While it's hard to break the pattern, it IS a choice. 
But it sure is hard to "fight" the lie when I am shaking and weepy and weak and struggling.  So, I'll go do one of the other things he thinks I don't do well.....and gain back the power to be me.  Because I want to be.  Not because I have to prove something. 
grace to you.

All Hell Breaks Loose

Sometimes, all hell breaks loose,  And, it just doesn't let up.  On every front, the jabs come.  The swords.  The guns.  Big guns.  The accusations.  The meanness.  The hatred.  The guilting.  The shame.  Everything.  In one, not so neat, package.  It's messy.  It's painful.  It's humbling.  It's terrifying.  It's depressing.  It challenges every bit of faith we possess.  Feel stomped under a great big boot.  Forced to submit to circumstances.
Because that is what the forces of hell want.  It's not about what is truly real.  It is about what we perceive.  What we believe.  What we fear.  What we might lose.  How we might be hurt.
In that moment, when the dust in flying, the bad feelings take over and the clouds pour rain and the dirt flies, causing our vision to be distorted....in that moment....that very moment when we feel blind, depressed, hopeless and full of despair....then is the best moment of life.  Because all hell breaks loose only when heaven is at work.  Though everything in us quakes.  We have to close our eyes.  Walk to the edge of the cliff.  And jump.  Because really, it's not a cliff at all....it's just the path being obscured by a mirage of our life long enemy.  And, when we jump, he can't follow us. Because the faith required, because the Spirit filling us....denies him access.
He has no chance of winning.  None.  Not the battle.  Not the war.  Because we are owned and cared for by the King of Kings.  The Author Extraordinaire is writing our stories.  And He never messes up or has to edit.  Even when we are faithless.  Even when we try to run.  Even when all we can think is "please, STOP!!"  He hears us.  He weeps with us.  He holds us.  He doesn't condemn us.  He doesn't ask us to figure out tomorrow.  He says to come in under His care and take a rest.  In the midst of the battle.  In the very heat of the moment.  Covered.  Loved.  Understood.
grace to you.

Beginning

Today I began a book.  I applied for a book competition and the finished product is due in about three months.  Hmmm.  Perhaps I should have started sooner?  Maybe, but don't tell my heart that.  My heart is so proud of me today.  I wrote a prologue.  I even saved it....oh, wait, I'm not sure I did when I exited.  Be right back.  Whew.  It's still there and safe.  I did go in and save.  Just in case.  It's like going in and checking that your newborn is still breathing....when you were in there five minutes before.  A good kind of protectiveness. 
Honestly, I don't know if I have what it takes to write a book.  I don't know if the story I have to tell will touch anyone.  I don't know if the words and the way I put them together will even come close to connecting with anyone.  But, it's not really about that.  It's about having a passion.  It's about believing wholeheartedly that we all have a story and that each of us are given a way to share that story......via a passion....art, music, writing, researching, flying....whatever it is, our passions open the doors to share our story with others.  To bring hope.  To share in what it means to simply be human. 
So, I began.  It wasn't easy.  I had to find a desktop publisher on my newish laptop.  Had to be sure that it would be the right one for sending the manuscript (ooh, I like that word) to the contest, had to set up the font and spacing to meet the requirements.  Had to actually DO IT.  Hard to do.  A big step.  A commitment to myself.  Something to overcome as well.....that I am my own person with my own story.  And that I am a writer.  Maybe not a great writer.  Maybe simply average.  But that writing is crucial to me.  And that I intend to write. And write.  And write.  For the rest of my life.
Many things I might not do, but this is a part of me that must be recognized.  That must be given an opportunity.  Not for publishing sake, but for the sake of my soul.  To fulfill the dreams and hopes and desires that are a part of the deepest part of me.  A passion that cannot be described or tethered.  Like a wild horse being released from captivity.  Running.  Free.  Breathing the air.  Whinnying. 
It's only a beginning.  It will require a lot of editing.  Blech, I'm sure.  But, I began.  And that makes me feel proud.
grace to you.

Give and Take

When you care about someone, it is pretty easy to give to them.  To meet their needs.  To desire their best.  Not giving everything, but knowing what they need most and trying to do that..  And, I haven't found that very hard in life.  In give and take relationships, it's as natural as breathing in oxygen and dispelling carbon dioxide.  It's not constant trying or battling or wondering.  It's not about payment nor paybacks.  Yet, it never remains one sided.  Not in a relationship.  It can't.  By nature of what it is, a relationship has to go two ways.  If not, one of the parties becomes like the Dead Sea.....taking up all of the fresh water from the other person and not ever giving anything back.  What's interesting, is that the Dead Sea doesn't have any clean, fresh water to give back.  That is the nature of it being "dead".  One person CAN make it look like a relationship for a long time.  If she's willing to give all.  To think that expecting anything in return would be....selfish.  But, that's only an illusion.  The truth is that it really does take two people caring to make a real relationship.  It takes give and give and give and give.....AND take and take and take.  Sometimes one sided.  But, not perpetually. 
I am learning so much.  Lesson 955:  it's ok to give.....and take.
grace to you.

Each Day

Finding how to trust each day that there is enough strength.  Enough courage.  Enough wisdom.  Enough peace.  Enough hope.  Enough faith.  That's because they aren't stored up.  They have to be exhibited step by step.  Experience by experience.
Lately I have struggled.  If you want to see my bitter, nasty feelings....go back to when I started the blog.  I am healing and growing and learning.  I am sensing a newness in my life.  A slowing down.  A lack of having to rush or fix things.  I am becoming content to watch the plan for my life unfold.  And excited by the adventure. 
I've been subbing each day...which contributes to taking each day one at a time....kind of hard to plan ahead, just have to take what someone else tells me to do.  Good for not being in control.  Letting go.  Resting in the journey.  Enjoying the trip.  Even the pitfalls and troubles.  I have been given so much.  And, much HAS been required.  I look back at my life and I am so thankful to be here.  To be getting stronger.  To be celebrating life. 
Each day has enough trouble of its own....and enough of whatever it takes to get through the trouble.  This, I am learning. 
This morning, I was seriously space invaded.  I started shaking.  He was amused....and irritated....and I was tongue tied.  Didn't have the ability to put it to words AGAIN.  And my girl was there.  But, when the moment passed, I took a deep breath.  I focused on what has already been good today.  I drank my coffee.  I went to the grocery store.  I didn't even act like I would be going to church for his sake....since now he tries to maneuver to be where I am and it makes it really difficult.  Instead, I made my own choice.  To worship at home on this day.  Not my very favorite.  Not the most perfect.  But still, uplifting.  To have chosen instead of feeling....forced. 
I have to face each day, one at a time, until this part of the trip goes by.  No missing it.  No flying over on a plane.  Have to drive on through.  And I don't have to be in control of everything.  All I have to do is remember that I am not powerless.  I am not without choice.  Even if it seems like it.....I was created to choose.  To think.  To decide. And for the rest of my life I am going to exercise that right rather than allowing anyone else to steal the beautiful gift of each day from me. 
I choose the beautiful.  The fragrant.  The uplifting.  The smiles.  The kind words.  I choose.  For me.  Not for anyone else.  But for me, I get to decide.
grace to you.

Day by Day

1. Day by day, and with each passing moment,
   Strength I find, to meet my trials here;
   Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment,
   I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.
   He Whose heart is kind beyond all measure
   Gives unto each day what He deems best—
   Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure,
   Mingling toil with peace and rest.
2. Every day, the Lord Himself is near me
   With a special mercy for each hour;
   All my cares He fain would bear, and cheer me,
   He Whose Name is Counselor and Pow’r.
   The protection of His child and treasure
   Is a charge that on Himself He laid;
   “As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,”
   This the pledge to me He made.
3. Help me then in every tribulation
   So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,
   That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation
   Offered me within Thy holy Word.
   Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,
   E’er to take, as from a father’s hand,
   One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,
   Till I reach the promised land.

Space Invaders

I learned about space invaders in the preschool this week.  You know, the kids that won't give others any space?  Too close.  Too tactile.  Too in your face.  Too.....lacking boundaries.  But, hey, they are three and four years old.  Practically babies.  I mean, some of them were probably nursing last year.  It's to be expected. 
But the people in our lives who invade our space are real...even when we grow up.  Some of them it's simply a social faux pas; they really don't know any better.  Yet, others use it as a power tactic.  To gain or maintain control.  This happens in my home.  It bothered me a lot.  Made me feel totally vulnerable...until I realized that that was what he was doing.  To show that he could.  To go up to my line...and cross it.  Subtly, usually.  Making me quake and tremble.  Acting all innocent.  But, I had used my words.  Had said what made me comfortable.  Yet, there we would be. 
This kind of space invading involves a lack of respect but it also involves a sense of being more important than the other person.  So, now I recognize it.  And, no matter what the words are, if the boundaries are not being respected, I know that nothing has changed except the means and modes of getting what makes him have a sense of being in control.  It's tricky because in those moments he can be speaking so much more sweetly....yet, I am completely suffering.  Words and actions should match.  Lifestyle too.  At least, to a degree.  When they diverge, there is discomfort as my brain tries to figure it out. 
I can handle all kinds of space invaders.  I have kids, for goodness sakes.  But, there is a manipulative kind that chills me to the bone.  It is the kind that is purposeful. planned, and makes me feel like I'm powerless.  Good news, I've learned a really important lesson here in my forties.  Note it.  Mark it down.  People who really and truly love ME have no desire to make me feel powerless. 
grace to you.

Never Know

Whether he's talking to me or not.  Why things aren't fair.  He promises my son that he will only keep him out for 45 minutes.  Son has to go to work.  Shows up nearly two and a half hours later.  Son barely has time to get ready for work, let alone having any down times before he goes there.  But, fast forward a few hours when HE has somewhere to go and wants to drive the car instead of the dinosaur van...which he hasn't said during the day....and he is in a tizzy because I'm not home with the car yet.  I was on my way.  Plenty of time for him to get there.  Barely spoke to me as he left.  Irritated.  I never know what I'm going to get....the grouch or the fake nice.  Don't really like either.  Living together is difficult at best.  But, when I first told him that I was done, there were 6 years left until our last child graduates....now only 41/2!  I don't want to do the big shebang divorce.  I don't want to divide up the kids.  I don't want to share them.  And, he can keep paying for them until they are grown and by then I should be able to take care of myself.  I don't want to deal in money.  Or maintenance,  Or child support.  I don't want to have to communicate.  I don't want to have to fight.  I can be patient because I know that I AM done.  And that I won't play the game anymore.  I'm tired of not knowing what I'll get.  But, at least now I don't have to wonder how that will play out with lawyers or court or child custody or decision making.  He has always left me to make the decisions regarding the children.  So, I would rather be uncomfortable in this way than in a new and unknown way. 
Sometimes I don't think that I can do it for a moment more.  I want to go running, screaming.  Pulling out my hair.  Because......I want to be nice.  Want to be kind.  But his idea of my being nice means that I have to make his life better.  Make it easier.  See to his needs.  Understand his wants.  And I can do it easily.  I KNOW him.  But he doesn't know me.  And he does not think good things about me.  What I have to say about him is this:  he is stuck trying to be with someone he has never really loved.  And being stuck is ok with him.  And, "I don't deserve more" because I'm not as responsible as him. 
Well, I take all of his barbs.  I don't argue about them anymore.  His cutdowns.  His snide remarks.  But, what he doesn't know is......I am free.  He can't damage me.  Make me a little sore.  Hurt.  Troubled.  Cold.  But he doesn't "win".  Because it's not a win/lose situation.  It's just life.  Moving forward.  Changing.  And he gets angry and says that I can't just not love him anymore.  And I tell him that that is true.  But that the love has changed.  Glad we had our kids.   Glad we had our lives.  But not willing to live like this anymore.  But he never listens to that.....he simply badmouths me because I am evil for not giving unconditional love.  Again, I say, "I'm not God, I have tried to love unconditionally.  I haven't stopped loving.  I just need to have boundaries so that I quit being hurt."  It never matters to him how hurt I've been.  Only how he feels.  Now THAT, THAT I KNOW.  On so many fronts I never know which way it will be.....not talking to me or being nauseatingly nice.....but when it all comes down and we are sitting face to face it ALWAYS and consistently comes down to how I'm not a good christian...not behaving like a christian........
Ha.  But, I am.  Because I am a christian.  I may not be behaving like he wishes or thinks is virtuous, but my behavior is that of a christian.  And not with malice or meanness.  I honestly hate hurting him.  He likes pushing me to the hard things.  To show how it's my fault.  Well, the part that is my fault, I take complete responsibility for.  I choose a change.  I choose to live able to breathe.  I choose to live being able to get up in the morning and going to bed at night without a pit in my stomach.  I choose truth......not a game. 
When I don't know what to expect, it makes me constantly on edge.  Like tonight.  He will probably come home from his big choir event all spiritual and such....yet smoldering because I didn't go and see him.  That ticked him off.  And, it makes it so hard to be here wondering when it's over and if I should turn off the lights and go to sleep so I won't have to wonder anymore how it will be when he gets here.  But, I want to watch a show.  Want to enjoy the evening and not needing to work tomorrow.  So, I will choose to play roulette with what will happen.  Makes me shaky and gives me a tummy ache.  But, I CAN do it.  I can choose to live.  I am allowed.  I know that.
grace to you.

Shield of Faith

Every morning, I put on a dog tag that says "faith."  I need it.  It is like the "shield of faith" spoken of in the Bible.  A constant reminder that faith keeps me from being hit by the arrows of despair.  Doesn't mean that there aren't enemies that take their shots.  It means that by walking in faith I can find something better.  Something higher.  Something fulfilling.  Because my heart is shielded from the bad things of life making it bitter or spoiled. 
Fairly recently, I had to decide to walk in faith again.  Even if it didn't look like what others expected.  Even if I couldn't explain myself.  Even if the whole world looks and says that I'm wrong.  Because my faith isn't in them.  Nor my hope.  Nor my peace. 
I spent all of those years trying to fix and make right that which was faulty.  I used my "faith" to rationalize someone else's behavior.  I used it to make myself keep going in a manner that was "acceptable".  What it got me?  Pain.  Misery.  Battling.  Unhappiness.  Depression. 
No, my shield of faith is to guard my heart.  To keep it safe so that I can become what God has for me. 
So, each morning, I put it on.  And I remember.  And I celebrate.  I've got armor!!  I'm protected.  I'm not walking around naked or alone.  Funny, those many years of marriage made me feel unprotected, uncared for and like I'd never be able to live up to the standard.  Turns out, I AM protected, I am beloved and I've already met the Standard....His name is Jesus. 
grace to you.

To Forgive or Not to Forgive.

Forgive.  Every time.  Without question.  Without fail. 
Yet, forgiveness is something that I have struggled with for years.  Not doing it.  But, rather, what it means.  What it should look like.  I had a book called "Caring Enough to Not Forgive."  It wasn't really about unforgiveness....it was about false forgiveness.  Forgiveness is not about saying "it's ok".  It's not about covering someone's wrongdoing.....really, only God can do that.  We are not perfect, so we can't.  But, we can "let go" of the "right" to be bitter, to be mean, to be revengeful, to be constantly pondering how to get back at someone.  It is about choosing freedom from having to fix something.  Forgiveness is giving God the wrong, the problem, the relationship.......and knowing that He can work with them and we don't have to.
My problem is that some people think that if I say that I forgive them then it means that everything should be reversed to prior to the wrong doing.  That it should be as if it never happened.  Yet, my heart doesn't work like that.  Forgiving doesn't mean that everything is "hunky dory."  It means that I cease living in the wrongdoing and choose to move FORWARD....not backward.  It is about building or rebuilding a relationship from that point forward.  Something new.  Forgiveness is about something new.  Not about trying to have what was.  And, sometimes, it's not about having anything anymore....except for the kindness of letting go gracefully. 
Many hurts occur in life because of faulty, unsafe foundations.  And, moving forward after forgiveness occurs can only be productive when the people are able to build something new and strong.  That isn't always the case.  Sometimes it is.  Sometimes it is too painful.  Sometimes it is not the direction God is working.  He is always most concerned about each person's relationship with Him.  About healing individuals.....He's not a group therapist, but rather a one on one.  Much like AA, He asks us to right wrongs and make amends when we can.  Yet, some relationships are best left. 
That's not a popular view.  Especially at my house.  For my husband, if I forgive, if I am kind....then it means "business as usual".  "Whew, crisis averted and I don't have to do anything."  But, it's not that way at all.  Forgiveness and kindness need to be who I am.  Even if nothing has changed in the foundation.  And, with nothing changing in the foundation, I am not going to keep spending time building upon the rickety timbers that threaten to collapse at the next storm.  I spent so many years forgiving his way.  Trying to behave as if it never happened.  Going back to the same old rut.  Over and over and over again.  Finding myself becoming less and less able to cope...because the forgiveness was empty. 
But now......forgiveness has changed in my heart.  That it is more about going forward.  Renewed.  Searching out how to live today and tomorrow...not yesterday. 
Life is good and wonderful.  Life is short.  Too short to allow unforgiveness to create bitterness and hatred.  I mean, why do I have to hate someone?  They don't make decisions for me.  I do.  I can hate and action.  I can be angry.  And..........I can go on.  I don't have to live there.  Because, a bad circumstance doesn't make up the sum total of my life.  It's just a bump in the journey.  And the journey is beautiful.
grace to you

Praying for Pillows

A long time ago....in my mind, at least....I had a business.  It started as somewhat of a miracle.  A total God action that pushed me and my business partner into the world of retail.  It began as..pillow making.  I know, crazy.  Unexpected.  Totally out there.  I am no seamstress, but it turns out that I can cut really straight! And figure out the math since we used our own pattern.  Nor was I a business person.  But, the business began and the pillows were "hot".  What I remember so vividly is not the money....though they commanded a pretty penny...I remember the commitment to pray for each pillow and the person who would buy it.  I still do things like that now.  Because that experience of "praying for pillows" changed my life.  It made me realize how I could ask God's blessings on those that I would never meet nor know.  How He could foresee who it would be and begin blessing them and making Himself known to them.  The best part for me was learning that God could use who I was...a little shy, but caring....but, not an evangelist. 
This knowledge crosses my mind every day in my present life.  God is not waiting for me to be a specific type of person with specific gifts or attributes.  He just wants me to pray for my "pillows" and then watch Him work.  He wants me to care about people....not so that I can change them, but so that they can feel cared about.  And, that I can do.  With no agenda.  I guess that I remember this so frequently because I see that most people have an "agenda" for what people need to be, how they need to live...blah blah blah.  Thing is.....I don't have it all together.  I'm simply a journeyer on an adventure excited over each new turn and challenge.  All because of praying for pillows. 
grace to you.

Patience...a Virtue

Patience IS a virtue.  But, patience doesn't mean failing to act.  It means seeing that action isn't always being busy.  It means knowing where you are headed and being willing (lucky I just looked back; I had written "busty" instead of "busy") and being willing to wait for what is best instead of jut grabbing at every single thing that comes along.  It means that when I'm subbing, I am being patient when I set a goal for where I am going to work and then wait to fill the spots with those schools instead of filling my schedule with jobs that make me nervous and uncomfortable.  But, it takes patience.  And faith.  It takes knowing who I am.  And being ok with that.  Much like meekness isn't being a wimp, patience isn't doing nothing...it is doing something specific.  Using energy on what is excellent, not on everything that enters my life.
I am patient.  Surprised me, actually.  And, God is faithful.  The jobs that I am looking for trickle on in just in time to keep me working the optimum amount of time.  Just what I need.  Perfect.  Used to think that practice made perfect....turns out that patience makes perfect. 
grace to you.

In the Chill

Mornings around here are getting quite chilly.  And, much of the time, I live in a state of "chilled" anyway...with emotions demandng much usage of my bodily processes, it means that my body actually gets cold.  But, this morning as I am sitting here in the chilliness, I am thinking about how nice it is to be chilly....to wrap up in a blanket.  To have a fire.  To drink coffee, tea or cocoa.  How wonderful and good.  How pleasant the things that come WITH being chilly can be.  If I seek warmth.  And that is true emotionally too.  If I seek warmth in the promises God has made.  In the kindness of those who care.  In the joy of exercise.  hahahaha.  I used joy and exercise in one sentence...if you knew me you would know that they would be things that aren't usually categorized together.  Oh, I like it ok when I get going, but it's not the thing that I bounce out of bed hoping to do.  Anyway, I digress....The point is that when the cold comes, there are choices.  So, I can curse the cold and stay in my tank and shorts, or I can take steps to get warm again.  Layer up.  But, don't build barriers.  Get out and get going.  But don't stay busy simply not to focus on what needs to be thought about.  Pray.  Without ending.  All of the time.  From the depths of the soul.
For, though I cannot choose to END the chill, I can choose what to do about it.  I can take actions that  warm me.  That help me to function.  That heal me. 
grace to you.

Allowed

I am allowed to have my own feelings.  For my own reasons.  I am allowed to live freely and free from constant criticism.  I am allowed to pursue joy.  I am allowed to make choices that directly affect me.  I am allowed to think for myself.  I am allowed to put myself in a place and a position where I feel safe.  I am allowed to say what I need to say.  I am allowed to say no.  I am allowed to say yes.  I am allowed to fail....and not be a failure.  I am allowed to be a believer...even when I struggle with doubts.  I am allowed to be loved when I don't measure up.  I am allowed to give grace.  I am allowed to live fully.  I am allowed to live my own life.  I am allowed to grow.  Allowed to change.  And to change my mind.  Or my style.  Or my feelings.  Or....anything.  I am allowed to be dissatisfied.  I am allowed to keep trying.  I am allowed to give up.  I am allowed to back off.  I am allowed to want to be found.  I am allowed to be me.  Free from critique or criticism.  I am allowed to be liked for being me.  Because...the thing is.....I don't have to ask for permission.  I am an adult.  I am free. 
Why is it so easy to forget?
grace to you.

Trust

Today, when writing down points for her team in the third grade class, a young lady doubled the points.  She pointedly cheated.  She used words to explain it away.  She claimed she didn't know.  Claimed she hadn't done it.  Until I sent an independent counter (from her own team) to count up the points....caught.  Humbled....or simply shocked at being caught.  I'm not sure.  Saddened me.  Trust is so....precious.  So fragile.  It's like a dandelion going to seed....too much wind blows it away...and then it has to grow again. 
I've been talking with my own kids about trust.  About not giving up their good name for some stupid reason.  To come clean about how they are behaving at school.  About what they are doing (or not doing).  About how it feels to be lied to.  About being sneaky.  About how all of those things diminish a relationship because they diminish trust.  And, they get it.  It's a beautiful thing.  They agree that it's better to disagree, to not get what you want, to not have it easy...than to give up someone's trust.  Especially their mom's trust, since she holds the keys to so much in life. 
But how is it that kids are faltering so much in this area?  I know a girl who dresses out in her cross country clothes on days that her parents come to get her so that they think that she went to practice because she agreed to run cross country if she was allowed to also do cheer.  I know kids who cut class and convincingly express what has been going on in school.  I know kids who say that they are going one place while they go another.  I know kids who take rides from people  that they aren't supposed to ride with.  It's so crazy.  It's liek we have lost a sense as a people of what is right?  What is true. 
But, trust can grow again...given fertile soil  It can flourish.  Just like those dandelion seeds.  And, it can also die.  Sometimes, trust is misplaced.  And, we have to love someone that we don't trust.  That's hard.  But, a sad fact.  I am learning that sometimes, when dealing with adults, and not children, we have to learn that it's not wise to continually allow our trust to be trampled  That it's ok to not want to be lied to.  Or treated unkindly.  It's ok to say no. 
grace to you.

Dear

Dear means special.  Cherished.  Valuable.  Dear means beloved.  Given special treatment.  Favored.  Yet, I have been none of those things.  However, today, as he used the moniker again, I realized....I began that with him.  I called him dear.  He was dear to me.  All of those things that I mentioned.  That is why it's so hard to know that I don't even cause a stir for him.  What has gotten him motivated is him.  His discomfort.  His fear.  And, sadly, that simply hurts me more.  That he thinks that he can "keep" me or "own" me because we got married but that there is not any necessity of cherishing, or putting above himself.  For him, marriage has been about being made to feel comfortable, about having his needs met, about ownership.  What a loss for him.  To use the word dear and not even know what it means.  To not have bothered to hear, see or care for me.  And yet, expect that it can somehow work if we just force ourselves to do it.  It's true....feelings aside, people can do most anything.  But, sometimes I wonder if it was worth it.  Some battles are senseless if the war is lost already.  I've told him how using the term "dear" hurts me.  But he uses it all of the time.  It's like being struck.  Painful.  It's simply another way that he cannot honor or see my pain.  All he hopes is to get me back on board with how it was.  I'm  not interested.  Something new, I wanted.  Something whole and healthy...that was worth it. 
I guess that what I've learned is that you can't really have a relationship with someone who only sees himself.  You can hold up your end.  You can be committed.  But, intimacy, relationship, compassion...these are lacking. 
grace to you.

The Race

Today is the JV Regionals in cross country.  And, we got to have the discussion in the car about what is possible....even if something else is likely.  It's easy to think that the place and position that they always run is the place that they will always run.  And, it's easy to let thoughts of pain, failure or leaving their friends behind paralyze them.  Hmmm.  Sounds familiar.
So often in life, it's like the big races.  There comes a defining moment, a moment of choice, a  moment where it looks like a huge precipice straight ahead.  It's scary.  The idea of change, overwhelming.  But, overall, that moment is a gift.  A chance.  An offer of something new and amazing.  Just like running a race without letting your mind tell you that you can't, living life without listening to the voices that tell you that you can't.  Can't succeed.  Can't be first.  Can't achieve.  Can't get that much better.  Can't break away from the position that you've always held.
As I talked to my kids, encouraged them, let them know that I would be praying for them, let them know that they shouldn't fear failing by trying to do something really incredible.....I listened.  I heard what I was saying to them.  And I was glad.  Because I needed to hear it too....but I don't have a mom to tell me, so God let me hear what a mom tells her beloved children.  "No matter what, I will be  proud.  I will be there for you.  I will love you.  I believe that you can do amazing things that you haven't even yet dreamed.  Don't be afraid to fail BIG because you don't know....you might actually succeed."  It was a good message to hear.  A good time to hear it.
The races in life keep coming.  Continual new opportunities to do well.  But, I usually view it from the failure aspect.  I think that there is nobody who looks at me and sees me as a success.  That's what else I realized.  Going without my mom left a hole...a place that always wonders if there's anyone in the world who can just be pleased with me when I'm not doing anything amazing.  Because, frankly, often, I'm just average.  But, thought that's how I look, I tried to look at myself from my mother's eyes today (pesky tears are making it hard to see as I write...).  And, I looked at myself through the eyes that I look at my children.  Wow, what a difference.  The accomplishments seem much larger when you consider the obstacles.  Because as moms, we know what our children have to overcome....not just what it looks like they achieve.  And, this day, made me ready to get up to the start line and run like crazy.  Not looking back.  Not thinking that I can't.  Not wondering who is going to catch me or pass me.  Looking ahead.   Not fearing the next turn.  Knowing that the path will be marked.  That there will be help along the way to keep me on track.  And, knowing that from every place on the course, my coach is watching, calling out encouragement, and wishing me the best......and seeing how far I've come.
So, whatever your race is today, know that I know how difficult it can be to feel alone in it.  How scary to face the new places.  But, look at yourself through a good mama's eyes.....she thinks you are beautiful and wonderful.  She sees you.
grace to you.

I Will Survive

Life has been......life.  You know, full.  Blessings.  Hurts.  Pains.  Gifts.  Treasured moments.  Heartaches.  My body has not been doing at all well.  Note, I have not been doing that well for my  body either.  Hard to get over the absolute inertia from restless, painful nights.  And yet, I do.  I get up.  I do many things.  I smile.  I enjoy.  And, most of all, in the midst of it all, I have the deepest sense of being blessed. 
I used to want to ask God what I had done to deserve losing so many people....to have a husband that was so clearly unhappy with me.....and then somewhere I stopped.  Because if it's about what I deserve, I have so much that I don't deserve.  Kids that are healthy.  Smart.  Nice.  A home to live in.  Water to drink.  Food to eat.  Transportation.  Clothes...lots of clothes.  Heat.  Running water for my lovely showers.  Friends.  Kindness.  Joy.  And there's no way for me to earn those things.  Just like there's no way for me to "earn" the heartaches.  They are just part of life.  And, I will survive.
But, I want to do more.  I want to thrive.  I want to grow stronger.  I want to live abundantly.  Not half hearted.  Not simply getting by. 
I prayed nearly four years ago to live to raise my daughter.  I was so sick.  In so much pain.  It was so constant and I simply couldn't imagine making it much longer.  And I begged God, flat on my face, my tears soaking the carpet in a vacation rental......to let me live.  Even if I never felt a bit better.  Even if I had to face the same amount of pain every day.  Not for me.  For my kids.  That day, specifically for my daughter.  Things had been so rough, so competitive, so difficult with my how my husband was interacting....and I didn't want my daughter to have to "toughen up"....I didn't want her to be left with nobody to tell her that she is pretty.  That she is smart.  That she has a purpose.  And that purpose is not shown by competing but by completing what is set before us to do.  I want to teach my sons that kindness and tenderness are the most masculine of qualities.  That praise is good.  And that being perfect is impossible....but that striving for excellence is mandated. 
And, here I am.  And though I have been very weak lately, tired, hurting.....I feel surprisingly blessed.  Like I have been given the greatest gift.  I do not take living forgranted.  And, for me, it's not easy.  Every morning that I put my feet on the floor, I hurt.  I often awaken in the night hurting too.  But, I am happy.  I know who holds my life.  I know who gives me more than just surviving. 
I guess that's one reason that I'm not interested in a commitment that has no substance.....I was promised abundant life, joy, peace....promised so many things by the Lord Himself.  And, they are here.  Right in the midst of life.  I like the real deal.  Not the sham. 
Yes, I will survive.  My concern is that I help others to thrive.....by doing so myself.
grace to you.

Boundaries

I am learning that boundaries don't just have to do with what I want others to do or what I need/should do or not do with others.  Boundaries also include the things in life that I am comfortable doing.  That complement what I am about becoming.  Once upon a time I had a chiropractor that said that my pain was so bad because my body wouldn't/couldn't turn off because instead of resting, pulling back, taking it easy, recovering, I pushed ahead and worked through the pain.  Apparently that can really mess up the body.  I lost the sense of knowing when to stop.  That's a part of boundaries that I have to set for myself.  Part of that is my decision about where I'll work.  It's not that I am unable to go to any school and make a go of it.  It is simply that with so much on my mind and heart, it is an added stress that I do not need.  I have one school that I was requested by a woman for all of her sub jobs this year....after teaching with her at summer school.  I have another school where the teachers know me because I was their para last year.  And another school where I was also a para.  And, that's enough.  At least for now.  I'll try to get more jobs in those places, but when I don't have as much, I will enjoy taking the time to rest.  To enjoy my home.  To read.  To nap.  I know.  Decadent sounding.  Cleaning house also.  But, I simply need time.  I feel like an accident victim.  Weary.  Hard to get up.  Distracted.  Emotional.  And, I need to address that.  I need to set the boundaries for what I expect of myself.  Not perfection.  Not everything.  Just those things that grow me and help me to become the person I am supposed to be.  Not afraid to try new things, but not feeling that I must do so on every front.  I need the boundaries to protect myself from going back to simply trying to please.  I need them so that I can evaluate how I am doing.  I need them so that I can get better. 
grace to you.

Home.

Sitting in a newly moved and sort of redecorated living room.  Opened it up.  Changed it up.  Different than it has ever been.  I'm pretty easy to please....so, I like it a lot. It hasn't withstood the company test, but it has withstood the daughter test.  The dog test.  The cat test.  The comfort test.  The homey test.  I love it, put simply.  It's my place.  I spend a lot of time in here.  It's important that it feels right.
I packed up a bunch of grandparent stuff this weekend.  Working on letting go.  I miss my grandpa so very much.  Though, I know that his strength remains with me....as a part of me.  His wise words walk with me every day.  His prayers and love still change me.  But, it's ok to put the stuff away now.  It wasn't before.  I needed the tactile, visual reminder.  It took a long time, but I'm finally ready to let the things go and just have the memories.  Oh, don't get me wrong...I didn't donate them, I just packed them up.  I'm growing, but I'm not crazy. 
It's not just a house.  It has to be my home.  I keep working at it.  Easier when it's just me and the kids.  Easier when I have alone time to focus and think and decide what I need and how I need it...without having to give explanation or argument.  That's the thing.....I feel able to be at home only when he's not.  To feel relaxed.  Content.  At ease.  Comfortable. At home.  But, nonetheless, I am trying to learn to be.  To do what I need to do regardless.  Not easy.  Not at all.  Mostly, I completely shut down.  Mostly, I am scared and uncomfortable.  But, that doesn't mean that I always will be.  When I can't stand it, I can get away.  And, when he's not here, I can thoroughly enjoy it....I didn't used to be able to do that!  Progress is progress even if it's only baby steps. 
Home.  A place for me.
grace to you.

Time

This whole, "opening up the room thing" took me weeks to work out in my mind.  Much like my writing.  Or my words in general.  By the time I get to them, they have been mulling around in my mind, growing, changing, having the kinks worked out.  I "work" most when I am alone and apparently "being lazy".  Yet another thing that I am having to learn....relearn....about myself.  I am a "need time to just be and let my thoughts work" kind of person.  Whether it's changing the living room or working the deep things of life.  Time to pray.  Time to mull.  Time.  When hurting it is a natural response of mine to try to stay busy.  To try to avoid the mental and emotional hurt by getting my mind on something else.  But, it doesn't work.  It just stretches my mind and emotions to the breaking point.  I need to learn to take the time.  To allow myself the time.  And to allow my friends to take the time with me.  I seem to be in a rush to get in and get out when I'm really hurting.  Time.  Taking my time helps me.  Calms me.  Lets me cry.  Lets me laugh.  Lets me think.  Lets me veg.  It helps.  I'm going to be good to myself and take it.
grace to you.

Opening Up

I have a quirk.  Funny little thing.  Exhibits itself in how I arrange my furniture.  Like things close and cozy.  Hard for me to "open up the room."  That can be a good thing....unless you have big rooms that demand to be "opened up" in order to be used in the way that they were intended. 
So, today I have taken a big step.  Trying to use the WHOLE room.  It's like.....opening myself.  It's really hard.  It feels vulnerable.  And, all I'm doing is moving furniture!  But, it is symbolic, I know.  Something I have learned about how I have come to cope and how I intend to deal with it in the future.  Open things up.  Utilize what's there.  Use the potential.  All exhibited in furniture moving.  Go figure.
grace to you.

Scars

The very nature of scars indicates healing.  No healing of a wound comes without some kind of scar.  A little reminder of what once was.  But, that's the key...it's what once WAS, not what IS.  A scar shows where we were wounded.  What we have lived through.  That we survived.
It's not the scars that we should worry about.  It's the places that don't heal.  That get picked at. Reopened over and over. Become infected.  Go untreated.  Turn black.  Smell.  Die.  Those are the places that threaten us.  Our scars have pain now and then.  They might be a blemish where there wasn't one, but they are HEALED places.  And, with time, we live with them in their proper place....a memory, an experience, something that happened, or someone that happened.
The dangerous thing is not to have scars.  Just like a six year old on a bike, we have to EXPECT scars.  Owies.  Falls.  Spills.  But, when they happen we have to go running to get them tended.  Kissed.  Cleaned.  Bandaged.  We have to take the time to let them heal.
But sometimes we feel like we deserve the owie.  Or that we did something wrong.  Or failed.  Or woulda, coulda, shoulda.  We pick at those owies.  Make them bleed.  Make them bigger.  Maybe even mess with them long enough that  a serious infection develops.  Something that keeps us from healing.  Unforgiveness.  Depression.  Sleeplessness.  Drugs.  Alcohol.  Self mutilating.  Anger.
All because we got an owie.  A genuine, bona fide, painful owie....that we needed treatment for.  That needed to heal.
I was always afraid of scars.  Now, I think that they are the beauty marks of a life well lived.  Indicative of healthy, forgiving living.  I choose the scars.  I choose to heal.
grace to you.

Finding My Way

You know, I really like my subbing work.  Yet, I am not really up to new school after new school.  I now realize that those are the days that stress me beyond belief.  Though, I have done it.  Though I CAN do it.  I think that I am going to work on working at the schools that I already know well.  Work on getting more "full time" work at those.  Because that's what I need right now.  I don't just need ANY work, I need work that helps build up my confidence as well as give me a paycheck.  So, I am going to pray to work at those schools  where I feel comfortable for now.
That is a big step for me.  It has taken me these couple of weeks to realize that I don't have to do everything and be strong enough on every front.  I get to choose what is most important and how to face it.  And I can give myself grace when I can't do it.  Or when it feels like too much.
I can face a lot.  But I don't have to make it harder.  I can choose to do the things that I know that I can do well and feel good about.  I can choose to give myself the same benefit of kindness that I would give another if she were in my shoes.  I don't do that often.  I push myself until I absolutely can't do it.  However, it seems that I am learning a new way.  Finding my way.  In a new time of life.  I'm finding that I don't have to take the hard way to punish myself or to prove myself.  I can simply prayerfully and carefully......choose.
grace to you.

Responsible

I am responsible for my behavior.  For my choices.  For how I allow people to treat me.  For how I treat myself.  And, epiphane!, I don't have to answer to anyone for what choices I make.  Oh, wisdom dictates that I see counsel, that I behave prudently, and God has some great directions on that too....but, nobody gets to decide for me.  I get to choose...that is WHY I bear responsibility....it is a direct result of choice.  Today I realized that somehow that "I do" came with some kool-aid that made me think that everything I do, think, feel, want....all of it....has to be approved of by my husband.  But, get this.....I never felt that way about what HE did.  He thinks I do owe that.  That being one is that I answer to him.  That submitting means doing it his way, his purpose, his desires.  But, I disagree.  I think submitting is choosing to do what someone else wants or desires or leads out in because you trust them to desire your best....AND that they are willing to hear you and see you and to take into account your feelings, wants and needs.  It's an active choice, not a sitting in the corner doing nothing. 
Today my eyes feel a little more open.  Like a kitten that has been wandering around, eyes closed, getting to know it's "world" and then it's eyes open a bit.  Then more.  Finally, fully open.  And the world is a lot bigger than they knew before.  My world is a lot bigger than I remembered.  The opportunities are huge. 
I want to write that book.  I need to find a place that I can write without having to tell him what I'm doing.  Because I've decided to do it quietly.  Because....I don't want him to hurt me about it.  And he will. 
I am responsible for how I live my life.  To God. To my kids.  To those I care about.  I owe respect, kindness, thoughtfulness, compassion, faith....but, they are not responsible for what I choose.  Even God does not take away my choice!  He gives me freedom. 
I choose to spend the bulk of my time with people who cause me to strive to love God better, to be myself and to risk failure in huge ways.  Those are the people who really love me.  I choose to live a new way.  Though I have to struggle with many other realities, I get to choose where to put my focus and my energy. 
grace to you.

Pleasure

Chopping nuts.  Apples.  Melting butter.  Smelling roasting nuts.  Sauteing fresh garlic and onion.  Braising chicken.  Pleasure.
Staring at stars.  Lying in the sun.  Making angels in the snow.  Sinking toes in sand.  Staying until the sun sets.  Pleasure.
Giggles.  Sticky hands.  "Look at me."  Tight hugs.  "My yuv you."  Pleasure.
Pleasure does not require money.  Or busyness.  It requires noticing.  Enjoying.  Choosing.  It's not entertainment.  It is allowing the senses to be on full alert and absorb every good thing about the moment at hand.  Pleasure is good.  God takes pleasure in me.  That is somehow very satisfying.  Comforting.  Uplifting.  Encouraging.
grace to you.

God's Chosen

Junkies.  Divorcees.  Prostitutes.  Liars.  Rapists.  Thieves.  Embezzlers.  Adulterers.  Idol worshipers.  Sick.  Weak.  Ugly.  Depressed.  Deceitful.  Stubborn.  Gossips.  Failures.  Murderers.  Power mongers.  Homeless.  Diseased. Gamblers.  Wanderers. 
So many images come to mind in modern day America when we think of God's chosen.  The church has become a place for the elite.  Those who dress well, smell good and have a pedigree.  It is a place for people who know how to make it look good even if it isn't good.  And though there has been a movement toward acknowledging that each person is broken and in need of grace and forgiveness, the pervasive attitude is that some are "too" broken or "too" sinful or "too" unrepentant.  But, God is not like us.  Not at all.  And over and over and over and over again, in the Bible, there are stories of those who are great failures by every standard, who can't stand or stay faithful.  And yet, their story changes as He uses their lives......though, as might be noted, some of them still don't change.  Yet, He chooses them, uses them, puts their names in the history books.  Not as people who deserve glory, but as people who brought Him glory.
Forgiveness in the church is made out to be an acceptance of behavior once the behavior is renounced.  But, true forgiveness is deeper.  It is "while we are yet sinners".  And, forgiveness does not always fix a relationship laterally.  On this earth.  In this place.  But, it does "fix" the heart of those giving it.  It does restore relationship vertically...with God Himself.  Behaviors are just that...behaviors.  They can harm or do good.  But none of them buy favor and none of them destroy favor.  There is no sin that can place us out of God's reach.  There is no lifestyle that can keep Him from seeking us.
Yet, His chosen are not the ones who sit in the buildings.  Oh, many of them are as well.  But, it seems that many of those are the "gatekeepers" of an exclusive club.  Working hard to keep up attendance and appearances while never delving into the great plan that could unfold if all were to see that each has the potential to be the vilest offender.  That not one stands pure.  That when weighing sin, God does not use our scales.  That none deserve grace more.....or less.
I have felt what it feels like to be on the unacceptable list.  I have endured the looks.  The whispering.  The chastising.  And it breaks my heart for those who are still lost.  Still alone without the Great Love.  Who judge themselves based on what they are shown by church people....and find that they are unworthy.  How I wish that Christ's people would show them that it's all just one big messy family with a tremendous amount of sin and pain...and that one sin weighs the same as thousands on God's scale.  And that One can wipe it all out and make the balance read zero.  Not just for past sin....but for present and what is to come. 
God's chosen have nothing to do with how good they are.  Or how religious.  Or where they live.  Or whom they live with.  Or what they believe or think they believe.  It has to do with His plan.  With His bringing glory to Himself by changing stories.  By making a difference.  By showing compassion.  Mercy.  Judgement.  And by paying the price for everybody who believes...not just those who look like they get it all together and put on the right clothes and face.  Nope.  Everybody.  Every sin.  Every day.  Every moment.  Covered.  Just by saying yes.
Heaven is gonna be......quite a shock, I think.  Can't begin to imagine who is going to be there, but reading the Bible, I think that it's going to be an interesting dinner party.
grace to you.

Circling Darkness

Once upon a time what seems a very long time ago, I lived in a very dark place.  Sometimes I would escape from the dark but it was always around me, always threatening, always terrifying.  Not a day would go by that I didn't fight to escape the dark gloom of depression...fear...hopelessness....and simply, darkness.  It was like a great yawning hole that I walked along the edge of.  The ground seemed slippery and unstable.  I constantly felt like eventually I would fall in the hole and not be able to escape again. 
I listened to a lot of christian music at this time of life.  I had a silly tape that a friend made for me too.  I played with my children.  I got out of the house.  I fought back against the impending doom.  Honestly, I didn't want to live.  It was simply too hard.  Not good enough.  He was ashamed of me.  He blamed me for painful things that had happened.  He was not strong enough to stand when the hard times came.  And, I just couldn't do it at that point either.  My body hurt.  It was becoming more undependable.  My head ached.  My heart was distraught.  Yet, everything appeared normal to everybody else. 
I lived near that darkness for a very long time.  But, I had the blessing of a praying friend who brought the flashlight of truth along.....who fought off the dragons that threatened to throw me in the pit.  And, with her courage, reminded me that I was courageous.  That I could stand. 
Something else of great import also had happened.  I had a daughter.  My final child.  My only girl.  And everything in me knew that she needed a mama the most of all.  I know how it feels to grow up without a mom.  I committed to do whatever it took to not just make it, but to flee from that darkness. 
It took a lot of prayer.  A lot of music.  A lot of sleepless nights.  It took learning to cry again.  It took not being alone.  But, eventually, the darkness subsided and only hovered around the periphery of my life.  Finally, it was gone for good.  I have never been in that place again.  Hurting, yes.  Depressed, yes.  But without the circling darkness.  Without the fear of falling in and never rising again.  And, in that is victory.  In that is God's grace.  And mercy.  Because I was freed from what might have destroyed me.  I would like to say that I was given an easy life and that is what saved me.  It's not true.  I was given the knowledge that I have the courage and ability to make it through the hard times.  I was given experiences that tried me and honed me.  And, sometimes, I'm just a mess.  But, I'm a mess in the light.  Not a little pen light barely glowing in the darkness...but in bright light that shines like the sun and defies the darkness to even dare to come near. 
When I think that I can't make it.  When I can't believe how hard it is.  When I am absolutely worn out from having no privacy.  When I feel like the greatest failure.  When my hands shake and I can barely hold onto something.  When I wish that I had been enough to deserve love.  I stop and remember the path that I have already walked.  And I am so very thankful to be out of the darkness.  To not fear whether I will choose to end my own life in order to "make it easier" on him.  Funny, not in a haha way, how I wanted to "go away" so that he could be happy.  Don't guess he valued me much.  His loss.  Especially since I have decided somehow, miraculously, not just to survive, but to thrive.  To live and do the things that I could just dream about.  But, I think that it will be an awful lot more fun to DO them.  Here's to looking forward to many days in the sun.  And always to remembering the pain of the darkness. 
grace to you.