Just a few more pick-me-ups in case you also are looking for a mood lifter...
Big crock pots full of chili
A haircut
Laughs. Lots of them.
Framily (that's my new name for the amazing friends I have that I might as well share blood with)
Homemade icing
More laughs
Repaired laundry closet doors
Fresh limes in my water
Sunflower seeds
A new hair color
Possible trips to my homeland
More laughs
A long conversation with Christy... completely uncensored
Black coffee on my desk by 8:45am
Long walks
Not by any means an exhaustive list, but this is what's workin for me right now.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Fay Day
Fay came over to play today. Tropical Storm Fay. Or I guess she is a Depression now. Which is fitting because depression seems to be the state in which I find myself. Just lonely and very sad and (can I say this?) a little frustrated with God. And so today, Fay made a nice companion.
I know God's totally able to handle how I feel, even when I feel angry with Him. He totally is. But I'm not. He's my Rock. My Everything. And I hate feeling so mad with Him and questioning Him and feeling so disconnected. Of course, I know that the key word here is feeling. And feelings lie. Yeah yeah, I know all that. I know that this will pass and I will work it through and God will make me into something I never dreamed.
Yeah.
My pastor was reminding me this morning about how much God loves me. That He loves me the same all the time, when I feel connected to Him and when I don't. When I'm happy and when I'm sad. When I have success and when I have failure. I know all this is true. I just don't feel like it right now. So I cried. Then I came home and REALLY cried. Curled up in a ball on my floor cried. Then I made my kids some lunch, put them down for a nap, and went outside to watch the rain. Watching rain is excellent therapy, and by the time the kids were up from their rest, it was time to set down the sadness for a while and play.
And so we played. We ran and raced and got soaking wet in the rain. We jumped and splashed and played in puddles. The kids and I had a great time.
I don't know if it was the October-ish breezes that came with the storm, or the crazy fun of running around in the rain, or the laughter, but some of the heaviness is gone. Here's me all wet and able to smile. Who knew? A Depression helps depression. HA!
I know God's totally able to handle how I feel, even when I feel angry with Him. He totally is. But I'm not. He's my Rock. My Everything. And I hate feeling so mad with Him and questioning Him and feeling so disconnected. Of course, I know that the key word here is feeling. And feelings lie. Yeah yeah, I know all that. I know that this will pass and I will work it through and God will make me into something I never dreamed.
Yeah.
My pastor was reminding me this morning about how much God loves me. That He loves me the same all the time, when I feel connected to Him and when I don't. When I'm happy and when I'm sad. When I have success and when I have failure. I know all this is true. I just don't feel like it right now. So I cried. Then I came home and REALLY cried. Curled up in a ball on my floor cried. Then I made my kids some lunch, put them down for a nap, and went outside to watch the rain. Watching rain is excellent therapy, and by the time the kids were up from their rest, it was time to set down the sadness for a while and play.
And so we played. We ran and raced and got soaking wet in the rain. We jumped and splashed and played in puddles. The kids and I had a great time.
I don't know if it was the October-ish breezes that came with the storm, or the crazy fun of running around in the rain, or the laughter, but some of the heaviness is gone. Here's me all wet and able to smile. Who knew? A Depression helps depression. HA!
Monday, August 18, 2008
New Mercies
So Monday has worked its magic on me. I love a fresh start. Oh, none of that other stuff is gone, but somehow a new day gives a new perspective. God calls 'em new mercies, and I sure needed the ones I got today.
One of those mercies happened to be a counseling appointment. I love my counselor. Plus, there's something about words coming from an outsider that actually makes me feel like I have permission. For example, regarding the big thing weighing on my mind, she said "You don't have to decide that today, or even next week. Stop worrying about it. Let yourself be present and enjoy each day, and God will show you the answer eventually."
I knew that. I really did. There's just something about hearing her say it that gives me permission to believe it. Permission to tell the voices inside my head (the ones that say I have to solve everything NOW) to shut up.
Another new mercy was a conversation with my daughter. She's been a bit secretive about her feelings regarding our situation and at times it's just more than my heart can take, feeling like I can't reach my child and can't help her. But tonight, after counseling I couldn't even drive for a while. We sat in the car and I cried. Although I don't hide my sadness from my children, I also do my best to stay in control enough to communicate to them that I am still the adult and I can still take care of them. Tonight, I just cried. I think trusting my kids with my emotions sort of gave my girl permission to share her own. So just before she went to sleep, we had a really good talk. And you know what? I think she's ok. She's really going to be ok. THAT does this mommy's heart untold good.
Only thing missing was that cup of coffee at your house, Finch. Not to worry, though. I'll find my way around there in the very near future.
Deep breath.
I can do this.
Tomorrow, my son starts kindergarten. Milestones like this can be tough for me. They tend to bring on the loneliness. So I'm about to crash for the night, get some sleep, and trust that tomorrow will bring plenty of mercies to get me through.
I'm back to a truth. The very one that keeps me spilling out stuff onto a blog that should probably be left un-spilled. That truth is that people who follow Jesus don't have lives without pain. Jesus ain't afraid of pain, or of my mess, or of my real feelings. And contrary to popular belief, brand new mercies get doled out to girls who haven't put on their Sunday best in a real long time.
One of those mercies happened to be a counseling appointment. I love my counselor. Plus, there's something about words coming from an outsider that actually makes me feel like I have permission. For example, regarding the big thing weighing on my mind, she said "You don't have to decide that today, or even next week. Stop worrying about it. Let yourself be present and enjoy each day, and God will show you the answer eventually."
I knew that. I really did. There's just something about hearing her say it that gives me permission to believe it. Permission to tell the voices inside my head (the ones that say I have to solve everything NOW) to shut up.
Another new mercy was a conversation with my daughter. She's been a bit secretive about her feelings regarding our situation and at times it's just more than my heart can take, feeling like I can't reach my child and can't help her. But tonight, after counseling I couldn't even drive for a while. We sat in the car and I cried. Although I don't hide my sadness from my children, I also do my best to stay in control enough to communicate to them that I am still the adult and I can still take care of them. Tonight, I just cried. I think trusting my kids with my emotions sort of gave my girl permission to share her own. So just before she went to sleep, we had a really good talk. And you know what? I think she's ok. She's really going to be ok. THAT does this mommy's heart untold good.
Only thing missing was that cup of coffee at your house, Finch. Not to worry, though. I'll find my way around there in the very near future.
Deep breath.
I can do this.
Tomorrow, my son starts kindergarten. Milestones like this can be tough for me. They tend to bring on the loneliness. So I'm about to crash for the night, get some sleep, and trust that tomorrow will bring plenty of mercies to get me through.
I'm back to a truth. The very one that keeps me spilling out stuff onto a blog that should probably be left un-spilled. That truth is that people who follow Jesus don't have lives without pain. Jesus ain't afraid of pain, or of my mess, or of my real feelings. And contrary to popular belief, brand new mercies get doled out to girls who haven't put on their Sunday best in a real long time.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Tears and Tissues
Well... it's been a while. Been busy here lately. Plus, I got a cold that set me back a little. I'm on the mend, though.
Kids are starting school. And it's nice to get into the routine again, though I'm sad to say goodbye to a laid-back summer.
Blah blah blah...
Here's the truth:
I'm exhausted. And lonely. There is a huge matter on my mind and it's driving me crazy. I have no idea what to do, and I'm tired of thinking about it. I feel like everything's changing around me and everything in my life is up for grabs, and darnit, NOBODY is asking me what I want. (I wouldn't know what I wanted if they asked, but still...) Sometimes I'm sick of doing the right thing. Sometimes I'm sick of sucking it up and being the responsible one.
I'm sick of brokenness, sick of loose ends, sick of questions. I'm sick of grieving, sick of keeping it together, sick of discovering new layers of loss.
I'm sick of change, sick of trying, sick of dreaming dreams I'm afraid I have to let go of. I'm sick of trying to be who I thought I was supposed to be while wondering if that's really who I am at all. Maybe I was mistaken.
Know what else? I'm sick of tears that won't dry up, sick of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and sick of feeling guilty. And now....
I'm sick of telling you what I'm sick of. And I'm sure you're sick of reading all this sickness...
Here we are on the verge of another Monday (my favorite weekday) and I'm Miss Doom-and-Gloom. Anyone smarter than me might choose to keep this to herself. However, this is the edge, and this is real. And for me, and all the other women out there who get up every day and keep going even when they can't, this is just what it's like sometimes. Might as well be honest about it.
Tonight it's tears and tissues for me. And there's no two ways about it.
Kids are starting school. And it's nice to get into the routine again, though I'm sad to say goodbye to a laid-back summer.
Blah blah blah...
Here's the truth:
I'm exhausted. And lonely. There is a huge matter on my mind and it's driving me crazy. I have no idea what to do, and I'm tired of thinking about it. I feel like everything's changing around me and everything in my life is up for grabs, and darnit, NOBODY is asking me what I want. (I wouldn't know what I wanted if they asked, but still...) Sometimes I'm sick of doing the right thing. Sometimes I'm sick of sucking it up and being the responsible one.
I'm sick of brokenness, sick of loose ends, sick of questions. I'm sick of grieving, sick of keeping it together, sick of discovering new layers of loss.
I'm sick of change, sick of trying, sick of dreaming dreams I'm afraid I have to let go of. I'm sick of trying to be who I thought I was supposed to be while wondering if that's really who I am at all. Maybe I was mistaken.
Know what else? I'm sick of tears that won't dry up, sick of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and sick of feeling guilty. And now....
I'm sick of telling you what I'm sick of. And I'm sure you're sick of reading all this sickness...
Here we are on the verge of another Monday (my favorite weekday) and I'm Miss Doom-and-Gloom. Anyone smarter than me might choose to keep this to herself. However, this is the edge, and this is real. And for me, and all the other women out there who get up every day and keep going even when they can't, this is just what it's like sometimes. Might as well be honest about it.
Tonight it's tears and tissues for me. And there's no two ways about it.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Big girls, janitors and old guys
I live with two of the most amazing people. Two profoundly different but equally delightful little creations, both slam full of brilliance and joy and fun.
My Mackenzie TOTALLY ROCKED her part in the children's musical Sunday. I was videotaping through tears as she was singing like an absolute pro, but more importantly she was singing lyrics that were incredibly applicable to her little life right now. Words like: "God will take care of me." and "Even through fiery trials, and even when I don't understand, God is taking care of me." I had a moment. You know the kind. A moment of stark realization. It hit me that my little girl is growing and blossoming, and though she faces things that are out of my control, God can and is speaking to her. My heart screamed out to God, asking Him to PLEASE let her soak in those words and TRUST that they are true.
I sent her off to camp this morning. She'll be spending three nights at camp with our church group. I held her tight when I said goodbye and my heart screamed again. I begged God to speak to her, show her stuff, and mend her heart in ways that I can't. So if you pray, send one up for my girl. Ask God to capture her heart this week, and ask Him to form a friendship with her that will see her through the pain we are in right now, and every pain she'll ever face.
And then there's my boy. He deals with things in his own way, too. For one thing, I never know what question is coming next. Here's the latest conversation of interest:
We are all three in the living room, watching Princess Diaries. Suddenly, a question springs forth...
Levi: "Mom, are you going to marry a different man now that daddy passed away?" (I have no idea where this came from.)
Me: "Uh... first of all your dad didn't pass away. When people say someone passed away, they mean that person died. And as you know, daddy isn't dead, he just moved away. And second, the answer is yes, after daddy and I are divorced, maybe one day I might marry another man. But I promise I'll talk to you about it first, and it won't be very soon."
Levi: "Oh... ok."
Silence for a while....
Levi: "Mommy?"
Me: "Yes?"
Levi: "Don't marry a janitor, OK?"
Me: "Ok... what's wrong with janitors?"
Levi: "Well, if you marry a janitor, we might have to go over and clean the church all the time." (In context of what my kids' dad's job has always been, this is perfectly logical. When your dad's a minister of music, you always go to church and you sing a lot, and your mom plays the piano and stuff. So if your mom married a janitor, well... that could be disastrous.)
Me: (trying unsuccessfully to stifle the giggles) "OK... I see. No janitors."
Silence for a while....
Levi: "Mommy?"
Me: "yes?"
Levi: "Also, don't marry an old guy, ok?"
My eyebrows shoot up.
Me: "Ok... well what's an old guy? Do you mean like Santa?"
Levi and Mackenzie: "You could marry Santa. Then we would have lots of toys, and move to the North Pole."
Levi: "But not other old guys."
And so, we have standards. No janitors and no old guys, with the exception made, of course, in case Santa ever became eligible again.
Of course, I had the serious heart to heart with them, about even if I ever married another man, they only have one daddy. And their dad will still be their dad no matter what, and no one else would make their dad unimportant.
But I'm still stifling the giggles over my five-year-old's dating rules. It's one of those single mom moments that you either laugh or cry. I had to laugh.
And now, I'm ready to sign off. It's just Levi and me tonight and I'm being treated to his rousing rendition of "Trading My Sorrows" sung by an action figure whose hands are perfectly poised for the motions. I'm afraid I gotta see this.
"Yes, yes, Lord, Amen."
My Mackenzie TOTALLY ROCKED her part in the children's musical Sunday. I was videotaping through tears as she was singing like an absolute pro, but more importantly she was singing lyrics that were incredibly applicable to her little life right now. Words like: "God will take care of me." and "Even through fiery trials, and even when I don't understand, God is taking care of me." I had a moment. You know the kind. A moment of stark realization. It hit me that my little girl is growing and blossoming, and though she faces things that are out of my control, God can and is speaking to her. My heart screamed out to God, asking Him to PLEASE let her soak in those words and TRUST that they are true.
I sent her off to camp this morning. She'll be spending three nights at camp with our church group. I held her tight when I said goodbye and my heart screamed again. I begged God to speak to her, show her stuff, and mend her heart in ways that I can't. So if you pray, send one up for my girl. Ask God to capture her heart this week, and ask Him to form a friendship with her that will see her through the pain we are in right now, and every pain she'll ever face.
And then there's my boy. He deals with things in his own way, too. For one thing, I never know what question is coming next. Here's the latest conversation of interest:
We are all three in the living room, watching Princess Diaries. Suddenly, a question springs forth...
Levi: "Mom, are you going to marry a different man now that daddy passed away?" (I have no idea where this came from.)
Me: "Uh... first of all your dad didn't pass away. When people say someone passed away, they mean that person died. And as you know, daddy isn't dead, he just moved away. And second, the answer is yes, after daddy and I are divorced, maybe one day I might marry another man. But I promise I'll talk to you about it first, and it won't be very soon."
Levi: "Oh... ok."
Silence for a while....
Levi: "Mommy?"
Me: "Yes?"
Levi: "Don't marry a janitor, OK?"
Me: "Ok... what's wrong with janitors?"
Levi: "Well, if you marry a janitor, we might have to go over and clean the church all the time." (In context of what my kids' dad's job has always been, this is perfectly logical. When your dad's a minister of music, you always go to church and you sing a lot, and your mom plays the piano and stuff. So if your mom married a janitor, well... that could be disastrous.)
Me: (trying unsuccessfully to stifle the giggles) "OK... I see. No janitors."
Silence for a while....
Levi: "Mommy?"
Me: "yes?"
Levi: "Also, don't marry an old guy, ok?"
My eyebrows shoot up.
Me: "Ok... well what's an old guy? Do you mean like Santa?"
Levi and Mackenzie: "You could marry Santa. Then we would have lots of toys, and move to the North Pole."
Levi: "But not other old guys."
And so, we have standards. No janitors and no old guys, with the exception made, of course, in case Santa ever became eligible again.
Of course, I had the serious heart to heart with them, about even if I ever married another man, they only have one daddy. And their dad will still be their dad no matter what, and no one else would make their dad unimportant.
But I'm still stifling the giggles over my five-year-old's dating rules. It's one of those single mom moments that you either laugh or cry. I had to laugh.
And now, I'm ready to sign off. It's just Levi and me tonight and I'm being treated to his rousing rendition of "Trading My Sorrows" sung by an action figure whose hands are perfectly poised for the motions. I'm afraid I gotta see this.
"Yes, yes, Lord, Amen."
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