View from the Edge

Resurfacing Elsewhere

2011-07-02T16:39:00.003-05:00

It's time. Time to resurface from a long trip to the depths. I gotta tell ya, over the last few years, I've hardly known what to do or say. Even one day at a time has sometimes been too much. My life fell apart, and what does a girl do as her heart's getting put back together piece by piece? Sometimes the grief and healing process requires all of one's time and attention. But the bottom line is, God's not finished with me. What can I say? Healing happens!

I'm happy to announce that this blog is moving. Check out the new location: Rebecca's Pitcher

Don't worry! All writings from this blog have been imported under the category "Where I've Been."

Come on over to Rebecca's Pitcher. I'll "pour out" a little something for us to share!

Remember Where You Were?

2011-05-02T18:47:00.003-05:00

Today was one of those days I'll always remember. On the ride to school this morning, I heard the radio DJ say Osama Bin Laden was killed by US Navy Seals. Thinking they were joking, I turned up the radio. Turns out I had heard correctly. My 8 year old, Levi, was in the car with me. He wasn't born at the time of the September 11th attacks, and so he's never known the pre-9/11 world. He didn't witness the attacks, yet he's not old enough to be studying them in his history classes. I found it a challenge to organize my thoughts enough to explain to him the significance of what has happened. I wanted to protect my little boy from the horrors of this world.

My mind immediately flashed back to September 11, 2001. I was dropping my oldest, Mackenzie, off at daycare when I heard the news of the attacks. I remembered the gripping fear. I remembered feeling as though I shouldn't leave her, not wanting to be separated from my little one and unable to protect her in a moment of such uncertainty.

This morning as I absorbed the news, I was again walking into a daycare, this time to drop off my littlest, Caleb. I couldn't escape the irony of the situation. Neither could I deny the still, small voice of God assuring me that He is and has always been with me. In moments of fear, moments of celebration. When I know what to do and when I'm reeling in shock. He's there. Loving me and all those I love, keeping us in his presence always.

It was one of those times about which they say "you'll always remember where you were when..." Maybe you'll always remember today, too. May those moments that are branded on our brains in their searing enormity serve as monuments to remind us of the undeniable presence of God at all times.

Happy Meals

2011-04-10T17:42:00.002-05:00

So... people are banning McDonald's from using happy meal toys as a selling tool.

DOES ANYONE ELSE REALIZE THAT THIS IS COMMUNISM??? Has it occurred to anyone that the people who may not buy happy meals without toys will go HOME to eat processed, pre-packaged items anyway? Will the Fruit Loops box need to oust the colorful bird? As a parent who admittedly takes the fast food drive thru lane occasionally, it's not the toys that cause me to put on the brakes. It's the fatigue, the time crunch, or maybe I just like the taste!

I personally am insulted by the insinuation that I'm unable as a parent to make good enough choices for my children, or to handle their protests when I say "no," therefore happy meal toys must be outlawed FOR me. This is America, people. Last I checked, we were FREE to make and sell things, and FREE to choose what to buy and eat. As far as parenting, here's how it works:

Kid says: "Mommy, can we get a happy meal? PLLLEEEEAAASE???"

I've developed an INGENIOUS way to handle this situation. Mom needs only to follow my simple two-step process. I'll let you in on it FOR FREE!

Step 1: Keep foot on the gas pedal and drive past McDonalds.

Step 2: Say "Not today, honey!"

If child protests, repeat steps 1 and 2 and add grounding from possible future trips to McDonalds due to inappropriate begging.

It's NOT THAT HARD!! The people who spent so much cash and worked so hard to pass this ban could have purchased the above mentioned procedure from me at a reasonable cost, published in convenient pamphlet form that they could have dropped en masse over the town of concern. Yet they resort to communism instead. It's unfortunate.

Pardon the rant. Maybe it brought you a chuckle. Trust, dear reader, that whenever I please and deem appropriate, my children and I will HAPPILY enjoy a HAPPY MEAL. May those affected by the ban do the same at their discretion, and may freedom fry the french fries.

Our Common Life

2011-03-11T19:07:00.003-06:00

"Give them wisdom and devotion in the ordering of their common life, that each may be to the other a strength in need, a counselor in perplexity, a comfort in sorrow, and a companion in joy." -- The Book of Common Prayer

I read this quote to my husband the other night as we were ending the day. This quote sums up what I love about our marriage, and what I most want our marriage to be. A few glimpses into our "common life:"

On my birthday, I got a pedicure. My husband drove me to the spa of my choice, and walked me in. He's not the kind of guy who has a whole lot of experience with such places. It was like taking him to another planet! We walked in the door (keep in mind this is a super-nice place) and he immediately grabs his nose and says "Oh my GOD it stinks in here!" I started cracking up. Then he says "It smells like that stuff Mackenzie uses!" (This is proof positive how badly my pedicure was needed, seeing as how he didn't even REALIZE that I own any acetone product at all.) He sat through the toxic fumes, got me all checked in, and didn't even freak out or run away when the spa employee came over to us and said "Two pedicures?" (We were the only two in the waiting area.) He saw me settle in the chair, kissed me goodbye and went to pick up the kids from school.

This afternoon we ran some errands. With kids in tow, our tasks involved getting everyone in and out of the car, stroller, seat belts, etc. There is no verbal exchange, just a smooth operation as if we were only one person. I lay the baby down in the back and a diaper appears in my hand. He buckles the car seat straps and I fold the stroller. I love being part of a team.

On our back patio, there is a bench swing. Dwayne bought it for me for Christmas. That swing is quickly becoming our favorite place to hash things out. Whether it's a disagreement that we are negotiating through, or brainstorming a solution to some difficulty we are facing, or laughing over something crazy that's happened, we can often be found on that swing talking it over.

Last week, we walked a few miles as a family. We set out from the house with the stroller and the kids. Levi scooted ahead on his scooter. Mackenzie kept her own pace as she walked and texted friends simultaneously. Dwayne fell in step beside me. There's something about the way he stands next to me, something about having him beside me that makes everything right with my world.

The other day, he had a day off and helped me with the morning rush to get out the door. Usually he's long gone before the kids wake up, so I do the morning routine on my own. It was nice having him there in the morning. I'm shepherding everyone out the door, making sure no one forgot a lunch or a folder, and checking to see if I have enough diapers in the diaper bag. He stands by the door with the baby in the car seat and I slip my sunglasses on as I step outside. He grins at me and tells me I look like a movie star, and in that moment, with his eyes smiling down at me, I feel like one, too.

Sometimes we argue. We're both pretty strongwilled people and I worry that we're loud enough to wake up the kids. However, sometimes we laugh so much I worry that we're loud enough to wake up the kids.

We've made it through a long distance courtship, a surprising and very dangerous pregnancy, serious financial craziness, moving, figuring out step-parenting, figuring out how to practice our faith together, and there are plenty of other things we're still hammering out. It's all part of our common life... all it's joy, it's laughter, it's fun, it's sadness, it's frustration, it's crazy pace... is ours to share together.

"...a strength in need, a counselor in perplexity, a comfort in sorrow, and a companion in joy." With God's grace we are becoming all these things to each other. There's nothing I want more than just this common life.

Effective

2011-03-03T19:56:00.002-06:00

I walked through the living room at work today. One of our residents stopped me. She's from Cuba and sometimes has difficulty finding the English word that suits what she wants to say.

She took my hand and looked up at me. "You look so... I mean you are so... (gesturing toward my general person) You are always so... EFFECTIVE!"

I'm grinning ear to ear as I write this. Unexpected remarks such as this always make me think. I've been called pretty before, or kind. I get the occasional "You're losing weight, aren't you?" or "Love your hair!" But "You are always so EFFECTIVE." takes the cake. Perhaps it's what she meant, and perhaps she was reaching for something else, but I don't care.

If there's one thing I want to be, it's EFFECTIVE.

This has thoroughly, completely made my day!

Why I Love Old Ladies

2011-03-03T19:55:00.002-06:00

Today, I did a talk for a small group of older women. Since it's Mardi Gras, I thought the appropriate thing to do would be to bring a King Cake to share with the group. So I stopped at LaLouisianne, my personal fave in the King Cake department, and purchased a cream cheese filled masterpiece. This King Cake, unlike some others, has no hole in the middle. It's chock full of gooey cream cheese filling, iced with a creamy white icing and covered in fluffy purple, green, and gold sugar.
(Yes. The sugar is fluffy. It's amazing.)

I was about to begin my talk, and I asked "Shall we talk first and then eat, or eat first and then talk?" The immediate reply was: "Eat first, honey!" Not one to argue with that, I started cutting the cake. I cut large slices, since there were only about 13 in the group and I didn't intend to leave with cake. The room immediately went into action. Soft, wrinkly, yet able hands passed around napkins and cake. Everyone participated in the distribution, and everyone jumped right in on eating her piece. They declared in agreement with me, that this was indeed the BEST King Cake there is.

As they buzzed around the room and exclaimed over the cake, I had an epiphany. I noticed to myself that not ONE person had anything to say about the calorie count of the cake. Nobody said "Oh, not me! I couldn't POSSIBLY have a piece, it's not on my diet!" Nobody said, "I'm too fat to eat that." Nobody even said (my own pet peeve of dessert rejection phrases) "That's TOO SWEET for me!" (preposterous!!!)

These ladies, the youngest in her mid sixties, thoroughly enjoyed the cake AND (so they said) the talk. I thoroughly enjoyed their enjoyment. No pretense. No feigning a lack of desire for the deliciousness of that King Cake. No worries about the waistline or even worse, worries about LOOKING worried about the waistline. (You ladies KNOW what I'm talking about.... and YES I said it out loud.)

This kind of abandon is rare among women my age, and sadly among believers in general. But for that shining moment, they indulged, I enjoyed... and I really believe.....

God smiled.

THAT, my friends, is why I love old ladies.

Hello, World

2011-02-19T12:10:00.004-06:00

"Sometimes I feel cold as steel
Broken like I'm never gonna heal..."
(from lyric to "Hello World" by Lady Antebellum)

I've promised not to hog my journey. And I meant it.

After my first husband made his exit, I saw a counselor for a while. I loved her and she helped me and the kids immenseley! One of the things she shared with me was about what she called "sneaker waves." Another friend of mine calls them "grief bursts." These are sudden moments of grief and pain that creep up on a person, many times at unexpected moments. I'm glad she warned me about them.

Here's the bottom line: A girl doesn't emerge from 13 years of repeated incidents of infidelity unscathed. That type of repeated emotional damage actually creates some deep and abiding wounds.

Most days I'm ok. Most days I'm great, actually. But every once in a while a symptom emerges that I can't deny. There are voices in my head that tell me terrible lies. Every so often a situation will arise and I am simply unable to cope with it in a healthy way. The voices of self-derision intensify in volume and I feel an all-too-familiar pain in my chest. "You're unwanted, unloved, unattractive. You can't keep a man's interest. Your first husband couldn't be faithful to you and somehow it was your fault. You are talented and smart but that's not enough. You are too damaged. You will not be healthy again."

I'm cornered by the voices and I collapse.

Such a collapse occurred again a few days ago. But this time I did something different. This time I ran TO someone who loves me (two someones, actually. Namely, God and my husband) instead of away. This time I stopped denying the existence of my wounds. I showed them to God. I let my husband see too. Then I asked God to heal them somehow.

"I see a little light, a little faith unfurls....
Hello, world."

Twin Skin

2011-02-11T09:39:00.003-06:00

I have "twin skin." I've actually had it for years, even though I didn't learn the term until last week when I ran across the site Shape of a Mother. It's interesting to me that I'm nearly 35, and still sometimes struggling with issues pertaining to the general size and shape of my body. Although, it shouldn't surprise me since I work daily with women over the age of 80 who still struggle with the same issues.

I'm thankful for beauty. I see it all over, in the gorgeous hydrangeas my husband bought me for valentine's day, in the eyes of my children, the sky when its blue shouts too loudly to be ignored, in the ocean, all OVER my husband and yes... sometimes I see it in me.

I daily encounter the effects of aging on the body, and in doing so I see that a beautiful person needs much more than physical beauty to remain truly beautiful.

I must remember the fact that my body is merely a vessel. It's a container that houses me and carries me through my time here in the world. Perhaps while I'm in this body, God will use it (and lots of other things) to create a more beautiful me. But the truth is, I'll leave this body behind one day, and whether or not it was beautiful won't matter at all.

In my observation, one can be very beautiful and completely untouchable. I don't think I'd go for that. I'd rather be... ahem... fluffy, and wrinkled and stretch marked, with laugh lines and all... as long as I have people to wrap my flabby arms around! What good is a perfect face without something to smile about? What good is a flat stomach without babies to throw their arms around you?

I've found my body's stretch marks are evidence that my heart can stretch too. The extra padding on my hips is evidence of chocolate fondue nights with my best girlfriends. Those occasional gray hairs that pop up are the result of sorrows and stresses that "season" me.

May my imperfections only serve to welcome someone in. May my "less beautiful" physical qualities be the very thing that draws someone to me when they need a shoulder to cry on, a good homemade molasses cookie, or a flabby-armed hug on a rough day. May the shape of this mother be something that constantly communicates love. Husband-wife love, mommy-baby love, sister-sister love, and most of all, the endless love that flows from a heart that has known the love of God Himself.

Twin skin... I'll take it!

Journey Hog

2011-02-10T13:32:00.003-06:00

I have nowhere near enough time to say everything going on in my head. For now, however, I simply HAVE to bust out these words that have been inspiring me over the past couple of days. I read them in Hoda Kotb's new book.

"Don't hog your journey. It's not just for you... You can take your business, shove it deep in your pockets, and take it to your grave. Or you can help someone. It's your choice."

OK, so if you've been reading this blog for a long time, or if you've known me a long time, you know that the last couple of years I've been a TOTAL journey hog. Perhaps out of a need for privacy, perhaps out of a need to have control over SOMETHING, ANYTHING. For whatever reason, the well of words that is my heart has been covered over and hidden.

I read these words and God said: "You HEAR THAT??? Are you listening to Me?? It's time to stop hogging your journey."

That's what He said. So I don't know how exactly, but I will loosen my grip. I will uncover the well and let whatever's in there spill out. I've definitely backed away from the edge... which I suppose is ok for a time. But I can't continue to live that way.

Here goes...

Bubbly Flowery Cure

2011-02-02T16:36:00.003-06:00

So lately I've been thinking about dealing with stress. Specifically my own need to strategize in that area. Last night I discovered something I already knew but had completely forgotten:

A few moments alone, spent purposely on regrouping and refocusing, are a GREAT cure for stress for me.

My awesome husband handed me the opportunity last night, in the form of a bubble bath (rose petals included) and half an hour alone. I soaked and wrote in my journal. Picking up the journaling habit again is my number one new year's resolution. I had had a particularly stressful day, and I was surprised by how much difference it made to spend some quiet moments and purposely refocus. Of course you might think "Who wouldn't feel better after a rose petal bubble bath?" And you're right. However, normally I might lie there and let my mind do what my mama would call "stew" over the stressors in my life. But not last night. I grabbed my journal, and purposely spent the quiet time alone reorganizing my thoughts, reminding myself of what's important, and recognizing my blessings.

So... I'm thinking this should be something I begin to practice daily. Perhaps not ALWAYS with the bubbles and roses, but even without those, I can still have some focused quiet. This I need. I always have, but I forgot. Do you ever do that? Somehow think you magically no longer need something even when it helps you immensely? I suppose in the busy-ness of life, we are forced to cut corners, and often the first things to go should have been saved and preserved as the last things to ever abandon.

Just some thoughts...

Perspective

2011-01-19T10:44:00.002-06:00

This morning as Levi was getting out of the car for school, we had this conversation:

Me: "You are the best little boy I know."

Levi: "And you are the best BIG mom that I know."

I chuckled a little and cringed a little at the idea of being called a BIG mom.

Levi: (Flashing his signature grin and irresistible charm) "Good thing I didn't say 'little mom'!"

For a boy who can't wait to be big, calling me a little mom is something he'd never do! What sounded at first like a childish faux pas, was actually a high compliment from my Levi. I suppose it all depends upon the perspective. I'd do well to remember that in pretty much every other area of my life.

So today I'm proud to be a BIG mom, and to have once again been reminded of one of life's important lessons by a little guy who didn't even know he was schooling me.

Go Play

2010-12-26T14:59:00.002-06:00

Twas the day after Christmas, and in New Orleans,
My family and I awoke from sweet dreams.
A mommy, a daddy, a sister, two brothers,
All happy just to be with one another.

We had a great Christmas and I just want to say...
I hope you did too! Now I'm gonna go PLAY!!

Hee hee! Seriously. I officially have my own Wii character now. I'm gonna go play.

Christmas Eve Eve

2010-12-23T21:02:00.004-06:00

It's Christmas Eve Eve. Tonight I am making a decision. I've decided to rise above the exhausted mommy fog, clear the no-sleep-for-over-a-year haze, shake off the mental and emotional cramps that come with juggling mommyhood, marriage, career, home, and life for an extended period of time. The Christmas Celebration at our house has officially begun.

All stress set aside, all duties can wait. All worries are on the back burner. Christmas is here, I'm off for the weekend, and my family and I are going to treasure every moment!!

Here we go!

Inclusion Illusion

2010-12-19T17:42:00.003-06:00

I've been reflecting on my own need to be included. I've been thinking about this need and how it affects my self confidence, my ability to adapt socially, and most of all, the practice of my faith.

As I've mentioned, my husband and I have chosen to practice our faith in a very organic way, through a house church. This avenue works well for us, since we come from vastly different religious backgrounds. All our "traditions" are kind of stripped away, and we focus on the important things: you know... Jesus, Him being the Son of God, the Way, the Truth, the Life. That kind of stuff.

Anyway, by choosing to practice my faith outside the traditional church building, (notice I did NOT say outside the church), I'm left without something I had no idea I had relied so heavily upon: The approval of men. I don't mean men in general. I mean people who run the traditional church building. I had, I now know, become very accustomed to hearing, perceiving, and basking in the approval and/or praise of other church members, especially leaders. I relied upon this approval and the myriad of duties and responsibilities that came along with it in order to feel "included." Thus, being passed over for a leadership opportunity, even one I didn't have time for, or being frowned upon for a personal decision meant I was not included, or at least not AS included as I could or should have been. This translated into hurt feelings, lower self esteem, and even envy of those who had more "inclusion" than I, even though their lives were less "fit" by most standards.

I've been pondering a great deal on the idea that meeting my need for inclusion this way has perhaps paralyzed me spiritually. I wouldn't call myself a spiritual invalid. Not by any means. But I have to wonder if looking to the church leaders for inclusion has numbed me in some places. I have to wonder if a great deal of church members are paralyzed in a similar way.

It occurs to me that looking to a human to place a stamp of approval upon my life and my spiritual maturity as he or she perceives it, is a bit of a slap in Jesus' face. He paid such a high, high price to declare me INCLUDED in his family once and for all. He gave his life so that I could have God's approval. Why then, do I need the approval of other humans in addition to the glorious gift He gave me?

Why have I wasted my time trying to earn the favor of church leaders, especially even after becoming very acquainted with the corruptness of such leaders? Why have I looked to another human to tell me what God wants me to do? Why have I allowed other people to make up rules that limit God's ability to work in me and with me? Where might I be now if I had spent as much time exploring what GOD truly made me to be and do rather than worrying about if I were in my proper place according to the opinion of church leaders? I don't mean where, as in perhaps I would be more "accomplished." Since I also am sickened at the time I spent trying to "move up" in the circles of a denomination, when most of such movement is based solely on politics. I mean where, as in would I be closer to God had I simply learned to cling to Him alone?

I return again to a thought. A truth, really. God Himself, through His only Son, Jesus, declared me INCLUDED. He declared me precious, worthy, righteous, and one of His very own children. I AM included. Now and forever. This is the truth I will teach to our children, and pass along to those He brings my way. Goodbye to days of stunted spiritual growth due to restraints placed upon me by the ideas of men. Hello to days of letting God lead me and show me. I no longer need the illusion of inclusion. I have the real deal, straight from God.

Guess what?? YOU DO TOO!!!

A Letter to my TEENAGER

2010-12-06T20:04:00.003-06:00

Dear Teenager,

I can't believe you are thirteen years old. We both sure have come a long way! Just 21 when you were born, I gotta tell you, I had NO IDEA what I was doing. You were my first baby, and now you are my first teenager. And guess what... I'm still not sure I know what I'm doing.

I know I've messed up on some things. I wish I had let you believe in Santa. I wish I had been a little more fun and a little less worried about getting everything right. I wish things with me and your dad hadn't meant you had to deal with grown-up stuff sooner than you should have. I wish we hadn't had to move so many times and I could have given you a childhood home to always remember.

But there are some things I'm happy about. Remember when we had "the talk?" You wer SOOOOO embarrassed and so was I, but we did it! It was the first of many embarrassing talks for us both, but we're still talkin'! Remember when you first saw your baby brother Levi? We got you a baby boy doll and you and I took care of our "babies" together. I remember one time you were in a musical at church. You came down the aisle with the rest of the kids and you were so happy and excited. I realized then that seeing you happy is just about the most amazing experience I get to have. Remember homemade waffles on Saturday mornings? Remember playing in the rain on Upstream Street and splashing like crazy in the puddles? Remember "Soap skating?" Remember when you had to be in the hospital? I would have given anything to get you better. Remember your second grade year that we homeschooled? I loved all our fun field trips, and getting to teach you myself. Remember how we had to get through Hurricane Katrina together? Remember "WINN DIXIE!!!"?? I love hearing you laugh. I'm glad we spent time with your Granny Great, and even though you might not remember it all, you got to know her and she got to know you.

You were the most beautiful baby in the world. You were the most adorable little girl ever. Your smile and your laugh could keep me going for days. When you were born I was scared to death. I had this little person and any mistake I made might hurt her for life!! I didn't want to make ANY mistakes.

We were inseparable for the first couple of years of your life. We did just about everything and went just about everywhere together. I wanted so much to be a good mommy. These days you are almost as tall as me. We don't shop in the children's department anymore, and your bedroom door is closed more often than it's open. Some days I'm scared that there are some things you may never learn if I haven't taught them to you by now. Some days I'm scared that since I DO make some mistakes you might be hurt forever.

Then I realize that you are becoming a wonderful young lady in spite of my mess-ups. You are an amazing person because GOD made you that way,and my silly mistakes can't undo HIS great work in you. I'm SO proud of who you are, and so excited about who you will be.

I used to rock you to sleep every night, but can't rock you anymore. I'm rocking your baby brother, Caleb, while you are texting or talking on your phone in your room. I'm learning to be a more grown-up mom to a more grown-up girl. We still have a long way to go together and I know we might have some tough times ahead. But we'll get through that too, just like the tough times we've put behind us.

You were my "Christmas present from God." You still are. You always will be.

Happy Birthday, my Mackenzie!!

Love,
Mommy

Eatin' Healthy

2010-12-01T09:11:00.003-06:00

It's official. The kids and I decided on the way to school this morning. Here's how it went down:

Me: (Handing the kids their on-the-run breakfast of chocolate muffins) "It's not exactly a nutritious breakfast, but it IS a delicious one!"

Kids: Yeah!

Levi: Wellllll... I think chocolate is healthy. I mean it has milk in it, right?

Mackenzie: Yeah, and it comes from a plant.

Me: Well you're right. Chocolate's practically a VEGETABLE!!!

We all laughed like crazy and it was unanimous! Eatin' chocolate IS eatin' healthy!!

Any kid of mine has a sweet tooth inherited directly from me. And now that chocolate is a healthy food... well...

Hee hee! Maybe I won't get mother of the year for this morning's breakfast, but it was SO worth the moment of crazy laughter with my awesome children. Even my little one-toothed guy was giggling! I'll be treasuring that moment all day.

Kickoff

2010-11-24T07:37:00.003-06:00

I have a few quiet moments this morning. The last few, I'm sure, until after Thanksgiving festivities and the trip to pick up my big kids.

It occurs to me that Thanksgiving is the perfect kickoff to the holiday season. Who is there to thank but God? The day of thanksgiving to Him kind of calls my attention to His work in my life and begins a time of reflection upon what He has done for us all by sending His son, the birth we celebrate at Christmas.

So this year, I'm determined to see Thanksgiving as simply the beginning of a season of celebrating God's blessings to me. Our Thanksgiving day will be full of commotion, food, laughter, noise, and fun...and of course Saints football. And I will celebrate the way God has lavished me with wonderful people, beautiful babies, happy moments, an amazing family, and so much more. I'll kick it off on Thanksgiving day with a bang and continue to celebrate throughout the holidays.

I have so much joy, how can it all be properly celebrated in one day alone, or even two? It deserves a month or more, and so it will be.

Amen.

Letting Go

2010-11-22T21:36:00.004-06:00

After a lot of thought and consideration, the choice was made to open my hands and open my heart and let it go. As of now, I no longer play keys at Riverside. I've learned so much there. I've learned that real love is possible, grace is for all of us, and that sometimes God's people DO come through. I've also learned that sometimes it's just plain time to let go. I'm learning that sometimes it's just plain ok to let go and walk away, regardless of what people think or whether the true situation will come to light or whether everyone will know my side of the story. Not always, mind you. There are times and places to stand firm no matter what may come. But there are times when the best thing for all involved is to release things before they become a total heartbreak. I let go of wanting everyone to think I'm right.

I let go of something today. It's something that was once precious to me, and I've long wrestled with the guilt of not enjoying it as much as I once did. I've long wondered what's wrong with me and what to do about it. It's grown into one big sticky emotional tangle in my life. And today I let it go. No more trying to untangle the strings. No more trying to make myself fit in a place where I don't fit anymore. I let go of my need to fit in.

I had a LOT to say about it. I had plenty of feelings to express. I wrote them in a long email and then deleted the whole thing. I realized that voicing my feelings would not bring a result and it would be more painful to communicate those feelings and then realize... nobody cared, than it would be to leave them unsaid. So I let go of what I had to say. And it's interesting how those negative feelings didn't really see the need to stick around once I let go of them.

And so I say only a fond farewell to my Riverside family. To those of you who know me, you know it's also a farewell to the last bit of a tattered and torn security blanket of all I once knew and believed about following God. I let go of my need for other people to approve of the way I worship. Perhaps now I'm ready to really worship for the first time in a long time.

Now I'm following God to entirely new places and it's good. He's taking me even further out to the edge, and, breathing freer and moving faster due to my lighter load, I'm ready.

All His

2010-11-21T21:36:00.002-06:00

This is my Father's World
Oh let me ne'er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong
God is the ruler yet.

Sometimes the wrong does indeed seem so very strong. Sometimes it's easy to get so irritated by the inconsiderate people in life, especially ones I feel should know better. Sometimes it's easy to focus on the disappointments, the heartbreaks, the stresses in life. Sometimes I forget whose world this really is after all.

It's my Father's world. It's His. It' doesn't belong to the people who hurt me. It doesn't belong to the rat race and its delirium. It doesn't belong to the tragedies, the evils, the stressors. It belongs to the One who loves me and my family and gave His life to buy my freedom. It belongs to my Father... it's all His and He's going to have the final say.

That's a peaceful thought in the middle of my crazy life. Wanted to share it with you.

Veteran's Day

2010-11-11T14:24:00.003-06:00

It's Veteran's Day, a special day at St. Francis Villa Assisted Living. It always makes me kind of emotional to think of it. I spend each day in the company of several veterans of World War II, a brave group of individuals, living historians who are fast disappearing from our country.

I wrote a little diddy for our ceremony today and thought I'd share it here too...

Hope you enjoy it, and find time to honor a veteran today.

On Veteran’s day we pause a while to think of those who died
We honor those who worked so hard, our freedom to provide
We tell the stories once again of soldiers brave and true
We think of those they left at home, the trials they went through

In times like these our hearts are heavy with the loss we feel
But then in spite of heaviness, hope rises true and real
We celebrate the courage had that no war could destroy
Each time we throw back our heads and laugh with freedom’s joy

Our very way of life each day gives merit to the fact
That our soldiers are the ones who keep our freedom here intact.
We pray, we vote, we work our jobs, we stand up for our rights
All because of work well done by those who had to fight.

In sounds of children laughing, even shouts of strong debate
We hear echoes of freedom soldiers gave all to create.
So out of sadness we will rise to celebrate and live
Lives that treasure freedom that our soldiers died to give.

By Rebecca Jeffries-Hyman

Re-groups and Rewards

2010-11-03T12:48:00.003-05:00

OK, so I couldn't let the Devil's Jukebox be the last word. Not that I've sorted it all out or anything. I have come to one small conclusion. I see my over-obsessing drive for perfection as just one more flaw and obstacle to overcome in my quest for perfection. Wanting too much to be perfect is something else to work on that keeps me from being perfect.

Is that sick or what?

Other than that, I've simply had to table this. Some tangled emotional messes just can't be untangled all at once. Sometimes like a jigsaw puzzle, you just have to come back to it later and you'll see it differently and maybe find a piece that fits.

So in the meantime...

My big boy is EIGHT! Can you believe it?? We had a marvelous time at Chuck E Cheese after all. Levi continues to be an absolute joy to be around. He's INEFFABLE in his charm, his wit, and his zest for life. I love that kid. One of my favorite glimpses into his heart as of late:

Levi (in the car on the way to Chic Fil A for lunch on Saturday): "What's Caleb gonna eat there?"
Me: "Well, I brought him some baby food."
Levi: "What if he's still hungry and wants something else?"
Me: "Well, I guess I could find a little something there he could eat. Maybe they'll have applesauce or something."
Levi: "Mom, when YOU eat does it make more milk?" (taps me on the arm to make sure I know he's talking about my body's milk making processes)
Me: "Ummm Yes, when I eat, my body uses the vitamins to make the milk for Caleb."
Levi: "So maybe you could go and get charged up on the chicken and then if he's still hungry you can feed him some milk."

And that settles that. I did indeed get charged up on the chicken by the way!

Can't stay down for long when God has blessed me in this way. If children are a reward from Him, then He has chosen to reward me indeed.

The Devil's Jukebox

2010-11-01T23:11:00.003-05:00

I have a nail in my tire. The front passenger side. Don't know where I picked it up, but it's glaring and obvious, it even has a green circle-ey thing around the head of the nail. So I'm riding around with a green circle nailed into my tire.

This morning I sent my son to school without his book report. Again. It was due Friday and he and I completed it and left it on the table where it remained as we departed for school Friday morning. This morning I did it again, left it right there waiting to be placed in a backpack and turned in. What is wrong with me?

This morning I also fed my kids bananas and Little Debbie cakes for breakfast. In the car. We were running late, no time even for cereal. I only had one granola bar, but I had three bananas and two Little Debbie cakes. And bottled water. I did make them eat the bananas first.

My baby slept nearly two hours past his wake up time on Sunday morning. Instead of relishing the extra sleep, I stressed about what could be going wrong to make him sleep so much. He's overdue for immunizations and could be contracting some dread disease. So when am I going to take off work and take him in for shots?

My big boy's birthday is tomorrow. I have cupcakes ready for his class, but I never called his teacher to tell her. I hope she lets them have the cupcakes. I attempted the call several times, only to be thwarted by some urgent thing or another. So the call never got completed. He's going to be eight. I haven't planned a big party with cute invitations and treat bags of junk for all his friends. I never can seem to pull that off. It's just going to be us and Chuck E Cheese. He really wants Chuck E Cheese and since there are no treat bags and friends for a party, Chuck E will have to do the job. I'm not going to think about the mom who gave out hand made halloween themed burp cloths to everyone at the daycare. But I bet she'd have treat bags of junk and 20 kids at the party.

I printed a newsletter at work. I went against my gut and my better judgement and chose the cheaper company to print it. And I hate how it looks. It's well written but looks terrible. Why didn't I listen to my instinct and go with the other company? I saved a hundred bucks but my newsletter looks crappy.

I have only one bottle of milk for the baby for tomorrow. I can't seem to figure out the right amount of milk and right pumping schedule to be able to keep extra milk on hand. I try to pump at night but for some reason my body refuses to let the milk go. And mostly I'm too tired.

Plus I have a nail in my tire. Did I tell you about that? I'm driving three kids around in a car with a nail in the tire.

This blog is horrible and terribly negative. You are probably alarmed at its tone. I like to think I'm an upbeat person, generally happy, with a positive outlook. Yet the preceding litany of condemnation is precisely the way I speak to myself. It's the playlist in my head. The devil's jukebox selections and he never seems to run out of quarters.

I have to wonder if my constant barrage of self inflicted condemnation has an effect on my mood. Ya THINK? But how do I stop? The bottom line is, I want to be better. I want to host cool, fun birthdays for my kids. I want to feed them nutritious breakfasts, hot ones, with time to digest before we lurch toward school. I want more milk than Kleinpeter Dairy, and I feel like if I fed my baby better (more milk?) maybe he would be... what? Bigger? fatter? healthier? He's healthy and happy, just like my other two are. See, I don't even know what I want. But I still can't let myself off the hook. I just said I want to be better, but the truth is, I have an unrealistic desire to be PERFECT.

Maybe every mom has it, maybe I'm one of the few, the proud, the insane enough to admit it. Or maybe I just have issues with perfectionism. I don't know and even this moment I resist the urge to resolve this post with a happy little ending, all tied in a bow. I don't know what to do, and I'm tired of wearing myself out. I desperately want to let it all go, but have no idea how to let it all go without... well, letting it all go, if you know what I mean.

Somebody pray for me. My joy is buried somewhere in this pile of thoughts and worries. Tomorrow's a new day, and will bring new mercies, I know. But tonight is looking like sack cloth and ashes.

And there's a nail in my tire.

Listen up, World!

2010-10-05T21:08:00.002-05:00

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I've disappeared. I've fallen into the black hole of working, breastfeeding, rocking, diapering, parenting, and running around trying to accomplish it all. You're thinking I'm a casualty of life and its stressors.

But I'm STILL HERE! Somewhere underneath the woman you can see who is trying to pay the bills, keep the house, love the husband, teach the kids, feed the baby, and make it from one day to the next... Somewhere behind my bleary, sleep deprived eyes and underneath my way overdue for a haircut hair... Somewhere underneath the clothes that aren't quite the size I wore before I got pregnant... Somewhere buried under the to-do lists...

I'm still here. I still think deeply and dream big. I still love passionately and live creatively. I still have a mind that wants to learn and a heart that wants to save the world.

It might seem like I've gone away but I'm still here somewhere. So don't forget me because when you least expect it, I'll be back. Back and better than ever. I'll have a stroke of brilliance in one of those quiet moments I spend hooked up to a breast pump. Or I'll write a beautiful piece one evening after the family is sleeping peacefully. Or I'll invent an idea one day sitting at my desk or standing at the sink. And all those seemingly meaningless tasks, those moments of the mundane that everyone thinks are wasted, those late night crying jags, those angry moments, those breathless times wondering if it'll all work out, those questions that make everyone uncomfortable except for God... those won't be wasted. They'll be part of me becoming something more than I thought I could be.

I'm still here. So don't count me out just yet.... ok?

Veggie Soup

2010-08-20T22:23:00.003-05:00

It's been way too long since I've written and I'm bursting at the mental and emotional seams. I'm gonna dive right in...

This week in Origins, we studied in Colossians 3 about how God wants us to live in our families. Greg included the statement that the place where our faith should go to work is in our homes and families. I think for most people, the greatest source of joy and pain in life is the family and I'm no different. The ones we love the most have the power to hurt us the most but also have the ability to bring us the most happiness.

As we spent the week studying and discussing how wives and husbands, children and parents should relate to one another, I enjoyed reflecting on what God is teaching me through my husband and my children. My awesome husband is a chef, and does most of the cooking at home. However, this week he had a little surgery and as he recovered, I of course took over the food prep. I decided to make vegetable soup.

Veggie soup, you must know, is one of Mackenzie and Levi's favorite dishes. Mine too. Dwayne can put together a veggie soup that can make you feel on top of the world. He's gotten me through a few colds with that yummy stuff. It's a beefy, hearty, spicy soup that is SO hard to put down. He had frozen part of the last batch he made and so I grabbed it, thinking I could quickly turn it into a good dinner for all of us. There was only about half as much as we would need, so I started by throwing some onions in the bottom of the pot. Then I added some more veggies and a couple of cans of tomatoes. See, my Granny made a tomato based veggie soup that was absolutely amazing. As I've mimicked her recipe in the past, the kids have learned to adore it. I stood there stirring the half-Dwayne-half-Rebecca veggie soup and had to smile.

This is just like our family. We're blended. Some spicy, some hearty... a little straightforward southern and a little crazy cajun. I set the soup down in front of everybody and it disappeared in no time. His recipe and mine blended together to make the best soup yet. The combination of the two becoming much more than either of them could be on their own... something unique and wonderful.

There is no cook book with a recipe for that soup. I may never be able to duplicate it again. And that, too, is just like us. We're going full speed ahead. Our days are filled with learning how to love each other as a husband and wife, talking boys with a twelve-going-on-twenty year old girl, soothing the frustrations caused to a little boy by second grade math, trying to make enough breast milk for a six month old, and juggling the bills to try to pay for it all. Some days we drop in bed too exhausted to say goodnight. But in all our crazy running, all the crying and trying, laughing and working, we are becoming something delicious. Something one-of-a-kind and wonderful.

I love the soup that I'm in. I love the intensity in my husband's eyes, the laughter of my children, even the months on end without a full night's sleep. I love the crazy wonder of trying to live life following God, and the adventure of following Him together. Neither of us are sure what God is up to, but we know He's working in our lives. I love what He's making of our family, of our marriage, of me. It's not always easy, but I don't have to go far to experience God and what He's teaching me. It's right here at home, right here in my family, and following Him in life means trusting Him to create just the right recipe with me and the ones I love.

SIGNS

2010-04-25T00:29:00.002-05:00

Just for fun, and because I can't sleep...

Lately I've noticed a rash of ridiculous signs. You know, papers posted up with warnings or requests of various kinds. They make me laugh.

In a French quarter jewelry store: "PLEASE DO NOT TRY ON THE TOE RINGS."

Just picture it. Somebody walks in a jewelry store after walking around the quarter for a while. Probably wearing sandals. They spot a toe ring. "Mmmmm.... I like this. Wonder if it'll look good on me." Then they proceed to try to balance on one foot while they figure out which toe...

In a beauty salon restroom: "PLEASE DO NOT SLAM THE TOILET SEAT DOWN."

OK... most of the clientele in salons are women. Have they been lifting the seat? Is this sign for the men? Who is disturbed by the seat slamming? Is there a certain individual seat slammer, and the sign has been posted as if seat slamming were a chronic problem, but in reality is a way to get across a message without directly confronting the habitual slammer? I must admit, it's a conversation I'd dread. "Hey, listen... can you do something about the toilet seat? I mean the way you slam it down... it just really... I'm not trying to hurt your feelings or anything... just could you please not slam it down? I mean, the slamming noise... it's so... slammy."

On a potted plant outside a place of business on Carrollton: "PLEASE DO NOT SIT ON PLANTS."

Wouldn't your butt get dirty from the potting soil? Wouldn't you be afraid of squishing the leaves? Are there plant sitters out there just waiting for me to put a potted plant out? Is my hydrangea in danger out there in front of the house?

I have to wonder... are these signs effective? Has there been a drastic reduction in toe ring fittings, toilet seat slamming, and plant sitting? I mean, if they work, then why am I not using signs?? If horrible behaviors such as plant sitting could be stopped, just think what misery I could end by posting a sign.

"KEEP YOUR NEGATIVE OPINION TO YOURSELF"

or how about

"CHOCOLATE DONATIONS ARE ENCOURAGED"

or maybe

"RETURN THE TV REMOTE TO THE SAME PLACE EVERY TIME"

OH! Here's one:

"DOING WHAT I SAY IS REQUIRED. ADMITTING THAT I'M RIGHT IS OPTIONAL."

A girl can dream, can't she?? :) Anyway, the sign idea and it's absurdity has been a fun source of entertainment for my brain tonight. I really, really should be sleeping. Here's one more sign:

"SHHHHH!! Mommy sleeping!! DO NOT DISTURB!"

At Least Milk

2010-04-07T22:42:00.003-05:00

Motherhood certainly has its um... adventurous moments. Tonight I had just such a moment at band rehearsal. Riverside Church, where I play keys, has a sweet new music director. He started just a week or so after Caleb was born. This evening he and I were having a conversation regarding a song for Sunday. I was sitting there calmly discussing a nuance of the music when...

My milk let down.

EVERY mother who has ever nursed a baby just cracked up. And I'm not even to the good part yet. For everyone who has NOT nursed a baby, the "let down" is a reflex in a nursing mother's body that causes milk to be pretty much forced out. It usually happens when the baby is nursing, but sometimes can be triggered by other things, like too much time away from the baby, a thought of the baby or another crying baby. It's a very cool thing God built into a female in order to ensure proper nourishment for her infants. It is not, however, all that cool to experience letdown when one is not nursing, but is in conversation with a new music director, or any other person for that matter.

So the milk let down without warning, and suddenly, midsentence, I feel the drips. That's right. Drips. I look down and sure enough, white drops were coming through my shirt and splashing onto my lap. It looked as if... well... as if there was milk coming out of me, dripping through my shirt and onto my lap. It didn't help to have a black shirt on, which effectively highlighted the white substance dripping off of me.

Uh... WHAT do you say at a time like this??? Do I excuse myself? Do I attempt to make an explanation? Do we both sit there and act like nothing's happening?

I managed a "Oops, I'm dripping. Sorry." and quickly crossed my arms, hoping to slow the flow if you know what I mean. I have no clue if new music guy caught what I said or even noticed what happened. Part of me dares to dream he didn't notice. Part of me knows he probably did and is probably embarrassed to pieces. I mean, I really don't know this guy too well. He seems like an easygoing sort, so hopefully he wasn't too mortified. Most likely he'll snicker through the next few services and rehearsals, as will I. Nothing like gettin' to know somebody, huh??

It was one of those absurd moments in life. One of those times you never could have dreamed or made up on your own. A moment when you MUST laugh... or else cry. Perhaps a moment that makes life a little sillier and reminds me that all of us, regardless of how hard we try to be dignified, drip from time to time.

Ah well... welcome to Riverside, new music guy. May your voice be louder, your guitar strings always in tune. Bet you didn't know it was the land of milk and honey. Or well... at least milk.

Gifts and Friends and Falls

2010-03-10T10:46:00.005-06:00

Friendship 911:

Me: "Can I come by for like, 5 minutes?"
Janet: "Only if you don't care that I'm in my nightgown and haven't had a shower."
Me: "That's ok. I'm coming by to take my pants off anyway."
Janet: (Knowing she'll get the whole story when I get there) "Ok."

This emergency phone call was placed by me yesterday after an unfortunate incident in the Winn Dixie parking lot just down the street from Janet's house. I had dropped off the kids at school, then stopped by work with a hungry baby to feed him in Dwayne's office before I ran some more errands. I got caught at work in a thunderstorm, but waited it out, determined to get some things done. So, I FINALLY headed off to the Winn Dixie with freshly fed, sleeping baby in the car.

I parked strategically in the side of the parking lot by the exit doors and proceeded to get the baby out. Upon stepping up to the rear passenger door, I noticed a large pothole under the car. (If you live in New Orleans, you know that potholes are a way of life here.) "Better not step in that" I thought to myself. So I leaned precariously over it and picked up the car seat with still sleeping baby inside. I stepped back, however the curb that was behind me evidently had issues with being stepped on. It tripped me. In what seemed to be slow motion I fought against the inevitable backward fall, but was unsuccessful. I fell backward right on my behind. (Thankfully on my freshly unpregnant but still carrying extra cushion behind) Car seat with still sleeping baby fell too, right on top of me, I'm grateful to say.

Now on a dry day in New orleans, sitting on the ground will give you a wet rear end. If you recall the above mentioned thunderstorm, however, then you can imagine how wet and muddy my behind was as a result of my plop onto the grassy curb. A kindly older gentleman witnessed my mishap and came running over to help me up. He assisted me back to my feet and I smiled bravely to assure him he could go his merry way. Then I put car seat with the still sleeping baby back into the car and, hands shaking, got back into the drivers seat. My first plan was to go home. But then my inner rebel kicked in and completely refused to be defeated. I was NOT going to go all the way home, change, and start over. Neither could I enter WinnDixie in my current state.

This brings me to the phone call referenced above. A plan had begun to form in my mind. Janet lives right down the street. Now Janet is one of those friends who has seen many of my worst moments. She's just plain real and just plain there for me. She is one of few that has withheld judgement from me and simply been a friend. You can't surprise her and you can't shock her. So I knew it would be nothing to call her and ask to come over and strip off my pants. Actually, I've been blessed with an unusually high number of this kind of friend in my life. Perhaps God knew how much help and understanding I would need. For whatever reason, He has chosen to give me the gift of amazing friends, and has provided them wherever I've gone. Some from childhood (that's you, C!) and some from college, some from churches here and there, and some my mother bore herself!!

So I proceeded to Janet's where she came up with an ingenious plan of her own. I stood in the bathroom doorway while she blow-dried my butt. I didn't even have to take off the pants. She sent me out the door in decent enough shape so still sleeping baby and I could accomplish our desperately needed grocery run.

I didn't know until the next day when two huge bruises appeared and some stiffness was felt, that I had had a fairly serious fall. It's kinda like life. Here's something I have learned: I can't and neither do I want to, spend this life doing it all on my own. Sometimes I don't know how bad it is until the shock wears off. Sometimes I need help, sometimes I need advice, sometimes I need a shoulder to cry on, and sometimes I need someone to blow dry my butt. Today, especially as I'm entering a new phase in life and trying to make hard decisions I'm exceedingly grateful for those angels God has given me, and grateful for the opportunities I've had to be an angel for someone else. So many thanks to those of you who have been and are there for me. Thanks for letting me call and cry. Thanks for being mad when somebody hurts me. Thanks for loving my kids. Thanks for cheering when I have a success. Thanks for not cheering when you were right and I wasn't. You are one of my most precious gifts. If you're ever in New Orleans and need someone to blow dry your butt... just call.

The Birth

2010-02-23T18:05:00.006-06:00

In the tradition of all new mothers who want and need to tell their war stories, and to preserve it while I can still remember vividly... here's the story of Caleb's birth...

February 11, we had a doctor's appointment in the morning. We waltzed in at 9:30 and I had only the smallest glimmer of hope that the doctor might say it was time and we could go ahead and deliver. I even skipped my lovenox injection that morning, hoping against hope, having had enough of heartburn, backache, and that feeling of your hips about to fall apart completely. And sure enough... ultrasound wand in hand, my fairy godmother of a perinatologist said "Not enough fluid. Time to take baby today." I looked at Dwayne and gave him the thumbs up. He freaked.

So while they called my OB, we started on the call list, letting everyone know it was time, and setting the plan in motion. We finally got settled in a Labor and Delivery suite and by around 2:00 pm, out came the pitocin. Dreaded drug of every mother who has experienced it's excruciation. (Is that a word? Is now, I guess!!) I had decided if I ended up needing pitocin that I was going to opt for an epidural. So the nurse sent for anesthesia. No dice. Evidently epidurals can't be administered until 24 hours after a lovenox injection at the risk of paralysis. Unfortunately the pitocin was dripping into my IV already and labor had begun. It wasn't so bad.... yet. But I was scared out of my mind. Laboring on pitocin with no pain relief was NOT in my plan.
I set myself a goal to hang in there until 9:30pm, my 24 hour mark, so I could get that epidural. Ha. Ha ha ha. Around about 5:00 or so, things started to intensify. The kids had all been hanging out in the room with me and I was tolerating contractions really well, but at this point it was getting intense and I wasn't sure I wanted my little ones (or big ones) to see me that way. They went to grab some food and while they were gone, Dwayne helped me to the bathroom. Something about standing up made things shift into overdrive. I had a couple of contractions on that bathroom trip that nearly had me on the floor. Thank goodness my man can hold me up!

He got the nurse and she checked dilation. 8 centimeters. At this point I'm squeezing the crap out of Dwayne's hand and the tears are starting. The nurse offered me Stadol, saying it would take the edge off and would only last about an hour or so. I agreed, thinking it would get me through to 9:30. Ha. Ha ha ha.

So in goes the Stadol through the IV and while the nurse injects it, I tell her: "OK, I'm not pushing, but my body is. My body is pushing the baby out." She takes this as a tip that I might be ready to push. Hmmm... Another dilation check and sure enough! 10 Centimeters!! Call the OB!! He runs over and through a Stadol haze, I could see them bringing in delivery equipment. The part about taking the edge off? I'm not so sure. But Stadol does produce intoxication. That I know.

My husband was still holding my hand and reassuring me, drying my tears as usual. I heard the doc say "You can push now." Out came Caleb's head, and one more push, out came his body. I opened my heavy eyelids and my beautiful son was there. Doctor Hogan put him on my chest and Dwayne cut the cord. Then we both cried. Actually all three of us cried! We did it!

We brought all our kids in to see him, Nathan, Jessica (Caleb's godmother and sister in law), Mackenzie, Levi and Mel (Dwayne's nephew and Caleb's godfather). We all spent a few minutes together before Caleb had to go to the nursery because of his breathing.

In hindsight, the Stadol totally wasn't worth it. Didn't help the pain that much and it made me intoxicated for my son's first moments. A fact I regretted intensely when he ended up in NICU and I couldn't hold him or feed him whenever I wanted. I cried and cried. But looking back, my memory of the experience is fairly clear. I'm thankful to be able to remember in spite of the drug fog.

All in all, a gorgeous little son has been born. A miracle. My Caleb had to fight to get here and fight to stay and fight he did, just like his namesake Caleb in the Bible. Our family is overjoyed and I'm having too much fun being a mommy of a newborn again. Here we are:

Day five

2010-02-21T11:08:00.002-06:00

Day five at home. I have to admit I'm a little overwhelmed. I'm not sure why. I mean, I've done this before. Twice. I have two beautiful, healthy, amazing kids to show for it. Part of me just tries to look ahead to when mom is gone and real life sets in. How will I get everyone in the car and to school on time? How will I ever go back to work?

Now, I know that's silly thinking. I'll do it somehow. And I'll feel better and better in the next few weeks. It'll happen. I can't let those thoughts come in and take away the joy of these moments.

So it's time to refocus. Refocus on baby smiles while he sleeps, tiny diapers, fuzzy hair on his head, tiny fingers and toes, and looking right into his eyes while he nurses. Refocus on how proud his daddy is and how tiny he looks in his daddy's hands, how he turns his head to check out what his big brother and sister are up to, and how he has a fancy crib but prefers my arms every time.

And refocus on taking a nap while he naps... g'night.

We Are Home!

2010-02-17T16:33:00.002-06:00

Caleb is home! We brought him home yesterday, Mardi Gras Day! He's doing very well. We are blessed to have endured 5 scary days with virtually no scrapes or bruises. Caleb was born quickly. VERY quickly. As in two measly pushes quickly. One for the head, one for the rest of him. He had some breathing trouble and was diagnosed with TTN. This is common in newborns who are born by C-section or who are born very quickly. It takes a few days for the lungs to catch up with the fact that they are no longer inside mom but on the outside with the job of breathing actual air.

So gradually his breathing stabilized, and we were discharged from the NICU on Mardi Gras Day. We are exhausted but so happy to be home. My mom is here and taking care of the kids and me. Dwayne, the super proud daddy is back to work after spending five days taking the most awesome care of me and Caleb. And I'm nursing for all I'm worth and trying to sleep some in between. We are so thankful for your prayers and love. More later! WITH pictures, I promise.

Caleb is born!!!

2010-02-14T22:26:00.003-06:00

Caleb Paul Jeffries Hyman was born February 11, 2010 at 7:05pm. 5lb,5oz, 18 in. long. We had about 30 minutes with him before he was whisked away, and then ended up in NICU. Having a little breathing trouble. He's improving every day. Thanks to everybody for calling and checking in on us. Please be patient if we can't call you back or keep things as updated as we'd like. Our days right now are nothing but trips to the hospital, pumping breast milk, trying to recover and praying for our little man. We are exhausted but thankful. My Mom is here and taking good care of big sister Mackenzie and big brother Levi.

Love to you all, and we will update as soon as we can. Praying and hoping to bring Caleb home by Tuesday.

IT IS DONE!

2010-02-07T23:18:00.002-06:00

I totally just watched the Saints win the Superbowl!!! WOW! I'm not one to buy all the hype and the destiny this and that. However, I just can't help being a little emotional on this one. It just plain feels awesome to see a dream come true. A good thing has happened to a city of passionate, fun-loving people and most of them are crying like babies with the joy of it. (and the beer of course)

Sometimes life brings along enough bad stuff that it makes you kind of scared to hope for something good to happen. It's nice to see an impossibility become possible, a glimmer of hope actually become reality, to live through a victory no one thought would ever come.

Too cool. Too cool that my kids witnessed a historic event and the courage of a city whose tragedy they also experienced. Too cool that my new baby will be born the year the Saints won the Superbowl. Too cool to see the stuff of a hollywood movie happen for real in front of my eyes. Yay, Saints! Bless You Boys!!

GEAUX SAINTS!!!

2010-02-05T16:50:00.002-06:00

Me and the Girls at work!! Saints party has already started.

WHO DAT, BABY!!!!

Countdown

2010-02-01T16:50:00.003-06:00

The end of pregnancy can be like the longest, most torturous countdown there is. It's the wierdest mix of giddy anticipation and adrenaline-pumping, nerves-on-end vigilance that there is. Just for fun, and to let off some steam, here's what the countdown looks like at our house:

10: Find a spot on your belly with no bruise to administer your blood thinner shot. "Honey? Can you look under there and tell me where there's no bruise?"

9: Try to get a couple of consecutive hours of sleep. No dice. Run yourself a warm bath at 2am out of pain and sheer boredom. One can only watch Teen Mom on MTV in the middle of the night so many times. Make involuntary popping noises and cries of pain when attempting to roll over in bed. Husband wakes up. "Baby, you ok?"

8: Cry hysterically for a reason. Cry hysterically again for no reason at all. Husband wakes up again. "Baby, you ok?"

7: Notice how everyone who sees you immediately looks down at the middle section of your body which currently doesn't appear to be physically possible. Either they're looking at that or I'm WAY sexier than I thought I was. Husband looks too. "Baby, you are beautiful!"

6: Be INSANELY protective and emotional over your existing beautiful children. Tear up when your seven year old boy throws his arms around your huge belly, and giggle with your twelve year old girl when she feels the baby kick. Watch their gorgeous heads of hair disappear around the corner as they walk into school with their friends. Grab the tissues and have your very own Hallmark commercial right there.

5: Go over every possible going-into-labor scenario with your husband until you both are delirious or delusional with anticipation. While doing so, realize that what will actually happen is COMPLETELY unknown and out of your control. Continue delusions and delirium. Finally try to decide to be happy and enjoy WHATEVER happens.

4: Wash, fold, and put away all your baby stuff. Then REALLY hope the determination is accurate and it really is a boy. Sit in your rocking chair and stare at all the baby stuff. Sit pretty much anywhere and stare.

3: Miss your mother like you never knew was possible. Cry some more to your very patient and understanding husband. "Baby, it's ok."

2: Feel nauseated and want nothing to eat at all. Then eat everything you can get your hands on.

1: Feel and watch baby Caleb moving around in there and think how much you will miss this miracle after he's born. Sit back, relax and wait for it...

BLASTOFF!!

Bliss

2010-01-29T09:22:00.002-06:00

It's been WAY too long since I did this.

My life is full of little blisses. Last night, a long conversation with a friend who is walking through what I walked through 2 years ago made me remember. How did you get through? He asked. I focused on life's smallest joys. That was really the main thing I did. And I've quit doing it as much as I should. Smiles come my way through:

A big yellow dog with hair all over my boy after they play.
My very own chef who makes me pancakes on his day off.
Selfsame chef who puts up with me tossing and turning all night and wakes up to see if I need anything, and then still gets up on his day off to help me get the kids ready.
A primping twelve year old girl who borrows my necklace and my lotion.
My Sugarland CD. Turned up LOUD.
Starbucks Venti Passion Tea, Iced with an extra shot of sweet, baby!
Lunch with a friend
Mardi Gras!! And KING CAKE!!

A short list, but effective. Enjoy your own blisses today!

New Year

2010-01-12T09:25:00.002-06:00

The New Year has begun. Though I must confess, it snuck up on me!! (Is snuck a word? I don't really think so, but oh well.... "sneaked" doesn't really sound better and I don't have time to look it up.) Back to the point...our New Year's Eve was spent sick in bed with a stomach flu. My husband had it first, so by New Year's Eve, he was taking his turn as caregiver to me and I was doing my best to get over it so we could go pick up the kids. We took it easy and made the trip to FL and back, bringing our little loves home. The kids had a fun visit to FL for the most part, though there were some not so great moments and I find myself facing big challenges helping my children deal with those. I HATE, and I do mean ABSOLUTELY HATE the fact that my children must be out of my care. Hurtful things happen to them that I can't prevent. I know reality is I'll never be able to prevent all of life's pain for my children, never really could, but it still sucks, plain and simple.

However, they're home now and getting back to their usual wonderful crazy selves. We are lovin' it. Our home is full of so much laughter. Dwayne and I laugh a lot anyway, and the kids join in with one antic or another, and then add our big ol' dog to the mix and we are a crazy bunch. Now we're getting all set up for baby Caleb and ready to add little brother. Never a dull moment indeed.

I'm finding that I really love building a home here in New Orleans... with a New Orleanian. "Let the good times roll!" isn't just a saying here, it's a way of life, and is a big part of our life. I love my Florida roots, my upbringing there was priceless. I'm also loving bringing up my kids with those same good ol' values mixed with a zest and love for life that can't be found anywhere but the Big Easy.

The last few years have been nothing short of hell on earth for me and my babies. We've seen a lot of bad... and a lot of good too. Though my new year came in quietly, without much observation at all, I'm still happy for the newness and renewal brought about by another January. My new family is getting stronger (and larger!) by the minute, and we are moving into a bright future together. My goal, if any, for this year? Make the MOST of every minute. Revel in every happiness. Appreciate every moment of joy, every little hug, every loving touch, every second of laughter with the ones I love. That's it. And really... what else is there?

To all of you: Let the good times roll!! Happy New Year!!

Christmas Season

2009-12-27T13:08:00.003-06:00

Merry Christmas! Two days late, I know.

My children are in Florida and I am in Louisiana. So I shed a few tears on Christmas since my heart misses them so much. But I talked to them on the phone twice, and will see them in a matter of days. Our doggie misses them too. He searches their beds, and cries, and comes to me with the most mournful look on his face, nudges me desperately, like, "DO something!!! WHERE ARE MY KIDS???!!!" Crazy dog! Can't say I blame him, though. Had I the K-9 excuse, I'd behave the very self-same way. However, I must soldier on like the human I try to be and endure this, making the most of it, and that's what I'm trying to do.

My Christmas was a quiet one, and I must say, quite enjoyable. I spent it bonding with my sweet husband. We needed this time and we are enjoying every second of it. Christmas Eve at my stepson's house where baby Caleb is already getting spoiled by his big brother and sister in law. We had Christmas dinner at his brother's and enjoyed the most eclectic cultural Christmas of my life. My sister in law is Thai, and so we had turkey next to the egg rolls, next to the ham, next to the noodles. Thai karaoke and New Orleans accents and crazy kids everywhere... and a little bit of Polk county redneck girl (me). Fun!

My man got me a spa day for Christmas and so I spent yesterday sprawled in a pedicure chair, white chocolate cappucino in hand, totally relaxing. I needed it. Funny thing, I happened to be one of three pregnant ladies in the salon all at the same time. Picture three very pregnant people sprawled in pedicure chairs and the place looked more like a maternity ward than an upscale spa. It turned some heads for sure! Too funny.

All in all, a Christmas to be cherished, since most of it was spent in the arms of the one I love, curled up by our fireplace getting closer and dreaming and building a stronger foundation for our family. And kissing too!! :) What's a good Christmas without some serious kissing, I always say.

To all of you out there, Merry, merry merry Christmas season. (Which, according to my bestie, Christy, lasts until epiphany, and I wholeheartedly agree!!!)

Missing Heart Report

2009-12-19T19:24:00.003-06:00

Well, my heart has officially exited my body and is walking around down in Florida. I put my kids on a plane Thursday. Their first plane ride alone. They cried. I cried. We are gonna miss each other!! Two weeks will not pass quickly enough.

But they did it! They called back so proud of themselves. They had a good flight, and made it there safe and sound. It's hard not to be blue. I'm doing my best to enjoy my last hurrah alone with my hubby before new baby arrives. I still miss my babies, though. I have two very brave, very wonderful children.

Now... the Saints are about to kick off. It's time to watch some football!!

A Decision

2009-12-10T10:44:00.002-06:00

Today I'm decorating Gingerbread men. I have seven days until my babies have to leave me for Christmas, and the Christmasing has begun. We have an action packed weekend coming up and what better way to kick off than Gingerbread men? And a visit to the doctor to hear our baby's heartbeat. Frustrations are officially going to the back burner, and I mean the very back. I have a gorgeous husband who is nuts about me, I have two amazing children on the outside and one inside. It's Christmastime and we have each other... and gingerbread men. All other crap must wait until I am finished relishing every second with my precious ones.

Let's do it!!

Taking Advice

2009-12-08T12:08:00.002-06:00

Levi on tattling:

"Robert ALWAYS has to do that. He tells on somebody ALL the time, he always has to have something to tell on. It's like "DUDE... take a break!!"

I SO feel his pain. There is something going on right now that makes my heart say "Seriously???? I mean, REALLY??? After everything you have already done to me and my children... now this????" It's like "DUDE... take a break!"

Maybe it's the size of my belly, and the size of the hormone surges I'm having. Maybe it's exhaustion or fear or whatever. I'm just having trouble finding my usual look-on-the-bright-side attitude. I'm frustrated with people and humanity and the general stupidity of a person who unfortunately has influence on my babies. Honestly, I'm frustrated with God a little too. It's not like He doesn't already know this, so don't you freak out ok? I just feel like I tried to honor Him through forgiveness and through sticking out a marriage that was doomed. I tried to be the hero, to forgive when it wasn't deserved, to keep going when no one knew how I was suffering. I tried to hold it all together, for the sake of my family and for the sake of His church. And now... this situation just continues to plague me, even after I've finally been released from it and gone on toward wholeness.

I feel like crying out for mercy from this. I feel like asking "How long? and WHY???" Mostly I also feel frustrated that no one seems to be caring what is best for my children. Perhaps pregnancy has me feeling SUPER maternal right now, but I just can't get over how precious my children are, and how undeserved all of their suffering has been. WHO's looking out for them?? Well, me and God that's who. But still I wish I could make other people wake up and realize that they are really what is important.

Ugh. I'm tired of all this, and tired of being tired of it. I want to go on with my life and love my husband and enjoy our new baby. And that I will do. We all will.

Perhaps I should take Levi's advice after all. I mean "Dude... take a break!" isn't a bad sounding deal. Maybe a break and a little perspective will help... and some chinese food...

:)

Sharin' My Happiness

2009-12-04T16:29:00.004-06:00

My dear sweet longtime, knows-all-my-secrets friend, Christy Sallee, took some pics of me and my gorgeous man. Ya know how when you are pregnant you just feel kind of... yucky? Definitely not beautiful. Well, I posed for and Christy took some pics that made me feel BEAUTIFUL. Some I never dreamed I'd dare to take. But I did, and IT WAS SO AWESOME!! C, you did my heart good!!! Some of the ones that are appropriate to share are below. Untouched.

The Peanut Gallery

2009-11-17T12:24:00.002-06:00

Levi: (Commenting on my new back brace to help with lower back and round ligament pain) "Are you gonna wear that all the time?"

Me: "Well, it helps my back feel better."

Levi: "I'm a man. So I don't get back pain. Unless I have a cramp.... Now, preg-i-nit women... (with a shake of his head) THEY get a lot of cramps."

This is pregnancy from a seven year old boy's perspective. I love being "preg-i-nit!"

Questions

2009-11-16T12:48:00.003-06:00

Just a few questions...

Why does pregnancy make food fall on your clothes? I walk around every day with SOMETHING on my shirt. Am I really that much of a pig?

Why can't I ever, EVER get full? I'm hungry ALL the time!!

How is it that I can be so proud of my daughter and how grown up she is, and want her to come back and be a baby again all at the same time??

Is it really true that a new baby can make me love the babies I already have a million times more?

Why do I expect so much of myself? Why all the perfectionism crap?

Where is my nap?

Where do college students' parents think their children are when they are actually sitting near me and my family on the streetcar wearing next to nothing and acting way too desperate? And how will I keep my daughter from engaging in such?

Why are the people at the coffee shop on Oak Street and Carollton so unfriendly? I mean, you can be bohemian and funky and all... and still be friendly to your customers. GOSH!! All I wanted was a steamer.

Will my son remember walking to the streetcar stop and riding downtown with me and his S-Dad, just for fun? Will he remember all the crazy stuff we can see in this city? Will he know how much fun I had showing it to him?

Why can't we watch Napoleon Dynamite every day? I love that movie!! Are you gonna eat your tots?

How come I'm writing these silly questions when there are a zillion other deep thoughts I could be sharing?

Why can't every day be Monday?

Why do I let people who have done enough to hurt me, and yet somehow still feel entitled to treat me as he, I mean they, please continue to hurt me? I think I'm finished with that.

What are we havin' for Thanksgiving? Pecan pie, I hope. I'd really love some pecan pie right now.

Why don't I spend more time being silly? I haven't been nearly silly enough. There goes that perfectionism again...

Who knows...

And I thought I had all the answers... Turns out I mostly just have questions.

Baby CALEB!!!

2009-11-05T17:40:00.003-06:00

Here's our baby, Caleb!

His face in 4-D.

Here, he's waving hello to his big brother Levi and his big sister, Mackenzie. They had so much fun seeing him on the screen. You can see the side of his head and his profile, but the hand is kind of covering his mouth.

Sorry for the funny way they look, had to scan the hard copies in, but I wanted to get them up here to celebrate! He's growing so well, his heart looks good, kidneys, brain, everything!!! YAY! He does happen to be breech right now, but that can and hopefully will change before time to make his appearance. Any prayers anyone wants to say to that effect will be welcome. Sorry to brag and run, but just had to show my little joy. More later!!

Jus' Fer FUN!!

2009-10-30T12:35:00.003-05:00

This is my Halloween Costume. Mrs. Conception!!!

Motherhood Moment

2009-10-23T13:01:00.003-05:00

It's been a few days. We've had some sickness at home, but all are on the mend now.

In other news... and this is big....

MACKENZIE MADE HONOR ROLL!!!!!!!!!!!

YESSSSSS!!!!

I cannot tell you how excited I am about this accomplishment. Mackenzie has always worked for B's and C's. She's moved around so much, and been through so many challenges. I knew this school, Faith Lutheran, would be a financial challenge, but I really felt she needed this. I wish I could describe the look on her face. This is her first time on honor roll. She's always been close but missed it. And now... SHE DID IT!!! I'm so happy for her. This is a result of her very hard work, teamed with a teacher who has time to notice Mackenzie, and with a learning environment that is perfect for her. I'm SO pleased. There were some naysayers on this school decision. Well, actually only one. Right now, I'm just so glad I stuck to my guns.

Most days I wonder if I'm ruining my kids. So much has happened out of my control, and I'm not perfect by any stretch of imagination. Since my girl was born, not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of her, planned for her, worried about her, hoped for her, and loved her more than life itself. And this... to see the look on her face, hear the happy tone of her voice, to get to tell her: "YOU DID IT, GIRL!" This was one of those moments that makes motherhood a miracle.

Hope

2009-10-15T10:46:00.005-05:00

Hope. My little sister's middle name. A word I use every day. Something every good Christian girl should never let go of. Hope.

Let's face it. Hope sometimes looks as tattered as Francis Scott Key's Star Spangled Banner must have looked as he gazed on a battle worn flag, torn up but still flying. Those shreds inspired an anthem that we still hold as our country's theme. Hope need not be beautiful or completely intact to still be present in one's life.

Reminds me of something my Granny used to say. She was never one to give up hope, never even one to complain. On her worst days, when asked how she was feeling, she'd say: "I'm kickin' but not high, floppin' but cain't fly." Said in her soft southern accent, sweet as honey, those words often come to my mind when I don't want to keep going.

Over the last few years of my life, I've endured some things I never anticipated. Spent a few semesters in the "school of hard knocks" you might say. I gotta admit, I emerged with my hope torn to shreds. This summer, I spent most days tired of hoping, tired of the "keep on keepin on" thing. Tired of it all, and wondering what in the world it's all for, anyway. That's when I started getting ready for the retreat I was supposed to do about.... of all things... hope.

I was driving around this summer, actually in the car with a person who was making my irritability and fatigue a bit more unbearable, if you know what I mean. I looked up ahead at an elementary school sign. It read: "I can have hope anytime I want." And that, my friends, was the kick-off for my journey into the idea of hope. What is it? How can I keep it alive? What do I do when I'm tired of trying?

In this, of all cities, the words "I can have hope anytime I want" carry a deep meaning. They did in my heart, as well. When I started to dig, to search, to look deeper into hope, here's what I found, in a nutshell:

Hope has absolutely nothing to do with my situation. Nothing to do with my personal happiness or satisfaction. The only things God asks me to hope in are Him, His Word, His unfailing love, my redemption, and my eternal life in heaven. That's it, baby. Nothing on the list about a happy life, health, plenty of money, or people who treat me decently. Wow. Several of the things I hope for right there, and none of them guaranteed to be on God's list of stuff for me. This took some time for me to accept, especially considering that most of my life, I've been trained that when I do good for God, He will do good for me.

Of course He will. Actually, He already has. He's loved me unfailingly, given me His word, His redemption, a home in heaven, and Himself. Here's what I found out: Most of the things I hope for are very temporal in nature. Nothing wrong with that, necessarily. I had just missed altogether the unshakeable hope that is mine in God. Sure, I'll be glad if I'm healthy, glad if our baby is perfect, glad if I ever can exist without financial worries, glad if my children continue to be healthy and happy. But if none of that ever happens, I still have hope, because I've been given things to hope in that are completely unaffected by fickle circumstances.

I found it interesting how much time I spent hoping for things that may or may not happen, instead of hoping in the wonderful things that are mine because of Jesus. So my hope flag still flies. It may be ripped in some places and may have a bullet hole or two, but it flies and always will. It's actually flying a little more proudly now that I've begun to really examine WHAT I'm hoping in and WHO gives me that hope.

2009-10-12T13:22:00.002-05:00

It's MONDAY! YESSSS!!!

I have not enjoyed Monday to its full and wonderful capacity in quite a while. Being preoccupied with such things as morning sickness, how in the world am I going to pay school tuition, and blood thinner injections, plus more stuff that I needn't go into right this minute, has kept me from throwing myself into Monday the way I am accustomed to doing. I've been slugging by not really throwing myself into anything except the bed... and then the heartburn kicks in and I regret even that action.

But today... for some reason, my body just did it. My brain just finally had enough, I guess, and said GIMME A MONDAY!!! And so my body kicked in gear and we did it! Made the bed. Did some laundry. Got the kids to school on time with a healthy breakfast in the tummies AND lunch in their hands. Made some soccer team negotiations for my daughter. Weasled a much-procrastinated-about and stressed-out-over brake tag for my husbands car out of a guy. Carved a pumpkin. Paid some bills. Eating some lunch and catching up on my blogging, AND I know what we're having for dinner tonight. It was nice to tell my sweetie to put up his feet when he gets home because I have dinner handled.

Kickin' butt and takin' names! That's what Monday is all about!!

Seriously, perhaps it is the combination of several events of late, some serious examination of the hope I have in God, an unwelcome nonetheless exciting fresh start that has happened in my life... Last evening marked a special kick off of sorts which I may or may not write about later. For now, my thought is that maybe that little re-start has sort of set things to right in my brain and my body.

It also helps to be past morning sickness, to have adjusted to giving my own injections, and to know that my baby is healthy inside me.

Plus the smell of cinnamon in the air and the fact that it is, indeed, October. Who knows....

But Monday is here and I'm enjoying every manic minute of it!!!

Some good stuff

2009-10-06T15:48:00.003-05:00

Had a fabulous weekend with Glendale Presbyterian Church!! LOVE THOSE PEOPLE!!!! They are beyond incredible. The food, the friendships, the fun, the food!!! It's like going home. Thanks, GPC!

We talked a lot about hope. Many more thoughts to come on that subject. For now, this is a quick check in to say I'm still alive and home and to give you a list of some things I appreciate immensely:

MY HUSBAND!!! He is KILLER!

My CHILDREN!!! They are the two, wait three counting my stepson, no make that four... can't forget baby Caleb... oh yeah and my step daughter in law rocks also, can't leave her out... So they are the five most wonderful people on the planet. I love them. Today I'd like to especially brag on Mackenzie and Levi because they have been through stuff no kid should have to face and they still meet every day with a smile and a heart full of love. They are my heroes!

Oatmeal Creme Pies. With an entire quart of very cold skim milk. Yes, all by myself.

And God. He totally CAN, even when I can't. I need that.

A Day in the Life

2009-09-25T14:39:00.004-05:00

I'm getting ready for a conference about hope. I've been doing some of the most challenging thinking I've ever done about that subject. At risk of giving away the goods, I'll save the rest for post-conference. However, just for fun, anyone who'd like to respond and tell me what hope means to you, I'd be pleased as punch. Just comment, and if you don't wish me to publish your words, say so.

That done, I've been thinking that I haven't said a whole lot on my blog about my work. I've meant to a thousand times because I really love my work, and find daily something challenging and enriching about it. I often think, "I gotta blog about this." and then life takes over and the moment of profundity gets swept away. I hate that.

I work in a business that can "take a lot out of you" if you do your job well. Assisted Living is a beautiful concept. Every day I come to work and bring joy to someone's life. Every day, I help someone, encourage someone, bring someone something they need. Practically, my job as activities coordinator means that I also provide entertainment, challenge (mental and physical) and general times of enjoyment. "Chancellor of Fun" I like to think. I suppose I could go to work each day and mechanically do the steps of my job. I may even accomplish nearly the same results. However, I just can't keep from involving my heart. There are 63 residents at the assisted living home where I work. Sixty three people to love, care for, entertain, serve, be concerned about, and generally allow into my business. Part of my job means sharing my life with them, and getting involved in theirs.

Right now for me, this means at least ten conversations a day about the size and general shape of my belly, how my children are doing in school, how much salt I ate today, and whether or not I'm getting enough rest. Not to mention at least ten more conversations about my marriage, since my husband also works here as the chef. When am I going to fatten him up? Is he working tomorrow and if so will he make me scones for breakfast?

Doing my job well means being available to hug somebody when I'd rather not be touched. It means listening to a story I've heard no less than fifty times before, but listening like it's the first time. It means showing respect to an elder who may sometimes act like a child. It means lending dignity to undignified aging processes. It means letting myself really love a lot of other people, whether or not they love me in return. All heavy and emotionally complicated situations.

Not that the job is without reward. The rewards are also rich and abundant. For one thing, our baby will be born to a houseful of ma maws and pa pas who have been eagerly expecting him. My children already get covered with hugs and giggles when they are here. Plus, smiles look so beautiful on wrinkled faces...especially knowing I helped put them there. Laughter is abundant and wisdom oozes from every nook and cranny. Reminders of what is truly important in life are everywhere, every day.

What strikes me over and over again is that I only took a job in assisted living because I had been left alone with my children and was about to starve. I never expected to get something absolutely perfect for me. SOmething I would enjoy every moment of.

Not every moment is easy, but every one is worth it. So hopefully for a while I'll be blogging on the every day stuff, the every day gorgeousness that is my life. The beautiful, challenging, and noteworthy moments that I've too often let pass me by.

Consolation

2009-09-14T17:27:00.002-05:00

In the middle of life's whirlwind of late, and all the stress, hormones, tears, worries, and emotions that are part of this pregnancy, I have a consolation.

Psalm 139 says "You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."

Know what I was thinkin? That means God Himself, the same One who made the mountains is actually, physically, with His own hands, piecing someone together inside my physical body right now.

There are no words to tell you how much I needed that knowledge. Sometimes in life's complications... you know, the ones that don't fit inside the guidelines of what I dreamed for myself and my life, it's hard to know that God is there. It's hard not to be seriously in doubt. It's interesting in the midst of some of my most spiritually barren times, God has chosen to actually physically touch me. Perhaps I have no feelings that prove His work in my life, but I see the physical evidence of it literally swelling inside me.

Now that I consider it, all three of my pregnancies have come at spiritually difficult times. How well He knows me... If my heart refuses to or simply hasn't the strength to hear, He just takes over my body.

This knowledge is precious to me. Too wonderful to express.

Nothin' Pretty

2009-09-08T12:50:00.004-05:00

Hold onto your hat. This ain't nothin pretty.

Life's been... well, a little on the overwhelming side lately. Frankly, I'm fighting cynicism and outright irritability like you wouldn't believe.

I got into a confrontation with my ex husband and his new wife. Ewww... It was miserable for a thousand reasons. I wasn't nice. Didn't feel like being nice and didn't care that I didn't feel like being nice. Still don't. I was surprised at the fury that is in me. Mama Bear had her claws out if you know what I mean. Divorce of any kind is disgusting, and mine is/was among the most gross of situations. I still experience nausea when considering what happened to my kids and me. Most people who know about it do.

It's strange because I have a beautiful life, a gorgeous new husband, and my kids have a new big brother and are about to get a new baby brother or sister. They're doing great in school, happy in our church, growing every day. We're happy. I hate how past wounds sometimes show themselves and seem to be as infected as if they just happened. Sometimes I feel like I'll be injured forever over this. Some people say that a broken bone still aches years and years later in bad weather or something. Seems like emotional wounds are much the same way, still flaring up so to speak at one time or another.

Had a great visit with my family this weekend, and got some much needed TLC from them. My sister's church showed the movie "Fireproof" and the pastor preached his beginning sermon of a study they are doing based on the Love Dare. (For those of you not in the mainstream church, it's a marriage enrichment thing.) The pastor used the passage I Corinthians 13, of course, since he was talking about love. Now, I was doing no small amount of teeth gritting having already sat through the scripted "Isn't it GREAT to be in the house of the Lord today?" and "Lord, bless us and be with us." and the misuse of Malachi 3:10, and the pastor's cheesy pasted-on grin. Bleah. I missed my church and the realness that is there. Thank God my pastors have the guts to frown if they're sad or tell me if they're mad. Or at least not to take glamour shots of themselves. I love you, Jim and Greg... Crocs and ALL!!!

Anyway, I was gritting my teeth, and fighting the nasty, cynical thoughts that raced through my mind as he read the familiar "Love is patient, love is kind, love believes the best, love endures all things..." I thought to myself: "How can that be? I tried so hard to "believe the best" to give another person the benefit of every doubt. I trusted again and again and still I was lied to, humiliated, decieved, and ultimately abandoned. What's the point? And how will my new marriage have any hope if this kind of crap is going on in my mind? Why did God let this happen to me?" But then... to my shock, pasty-grin man had something smart to say. He said everywhere you see the word love, you can insert the name Jesus. Jesus is patient, Jesus is kind, Jesus believes the best, Jesus never fails. This immediately passed my theological who-ha filter, since I know the scripture says God IS love. And so we can safely substitue His name there.

I began to think. Perhaps this passage, while it certainly is the standard we should strive for, has been under the wrong focus for me. The failure of other people to love me, or me to love them isn't what I Cor. 13 is all about. It's about Jesus and how He behaves toward humans, including me. Perhaps it isn't saying: "This is how you love. Now TRY HARDER!" Perhaps it's more like: "This is how God loves you. So, having been loved like this, you can deal with the failure of other people to love you and your failure to love them." Hmmm... So maybe it's more like God saying "So what if he lied to you and utterly failed you. I love you and will never fail you and never lie to you."

I don't know why God let me marry a man who would hurt me in such a way. I was trying with all my might at the time to do what I thought God wanted me to do. I don't know why He let me get ripped apart like that. I do know that the stark contrast between the way I was loved in my first marriage and the way God loves me practically screams to me. I have to wonder if I would have ever glimpsed the magnitude of the strength of God's love if I hadn't experienced the failure of human love.

Mere guesses at a question that will probably never be answered and really doesn't make sense anyway...

In all my frustrated cynicism, my irritability, meanness, and sorrow.... in all my happy moments, my blissful passion with my new husband and my joy at the smiles of my children... In ALL those moments I'm loved. Hmmm....

Maybe this was somethin pretty after all.

People, Pigs, and Psalms

2009-08-20T10:36:00.002-05:00

Kids are doing great in school. I promise to post a pic soon, they look so fresh and sweet in their little uniforms with their backpacks and lunchboxes. Too cute!

We have an ultrasound today. I'm getting spoiled with all these glimpses of our little one. Hopefully all will be well. Tomorrow makes one week on heparin shots three times each day. I know it sounds funny, but I'm so proud! I was once a queasy girl with quite a weak stomach. I never imagined I'd be able to draw up a syringe and shoot myself in the belly, but I do it three times every day! Takin' it like a woman!! It's amazing what one is capable of when one has to be. Not that I'm always brave...I'm trying not to be a wimp about the whole thing, but I will admit to you that the bruises all over my tummy and the idea of sticking a needle in there one more time sometimes makes me want to cry. Don't tell anybody, ok?

I think it's mostly the fact that I read too much. Sometimes knowledge is power and sometimes knowledge is utterly detrimental! For example, when I got pregnant I read that pulmonary embolism is the leading cause of death in pregnancy. Just the thing for which I am most at risk!! Yikes! I also read that heparin is made from the intestinal mucosa of pigs. Disgusting. Imagine my thoughts as I squirt that through the needle into my tummy three times each day. Perhaps that explains the bacon craving... :)

Isn't it strange, though, how an experience can be much more daunting if you know what's going on? Sometimes it's nice to be blissfully unaware. Makes me think of my children, and intensely hope that they have no idea the severity of what they have endured over the last 3 years. Makes me think of my parents and be grateful for what they shielded me from. Makes me think of God, and wonder how many valleys I've been in contained the shadow of death, I just didn't know.

That brings me to an interesting thought. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will FEAR NO EVIL, for thou art with me." How striking that the evil is present, even dominant it seems in that valley of the shadow, yet it is not to be feared. Doesn't say it isn't to be seen or heard or known, just not feared. So whether I see and know the danger I'm in, or whether I have no clue about the peril around me, I have no need to fear because He is with me. Not an easy thought to absorb, but one I needed today.

Juggling

2009-08-13T11:41:00.004-05:00

Today is Mackenzie and Levi's first day of school! I'm so excited for them. They are going to Faith Lutheran School, which I just adore. It's a loving place where they will hear truth and I'm so happy to have found it. They've been through so much, I just couldn't bear for them to be lost in a crowd. Faith is, I hope, a kind of loving little cocoon for them. I know I can't always keep them in a cocoon. I've had to face the harsh reality that there are many things I can't protect them from, but this one thing I can do, so I'm doing it. The sacrifice is well worth it.

Life is bringing it's share of stress to me. I need some medicine I can't afford. Hopefully a good solution has come along, a less expensive medicine that involves a little more risk, but will be better than nothing. I'll find out today about that. It's scary feeling like a time bomb, like a clot could come along any time and that could be it for me. It also has a way of keeping me on my toes so to speak. Thinking about serious things like that makes me want to be sure that my husband knows how much I love him, my kids know how great they are, and so on.

That brings me to another topic. Stepfamilies are hard things to build! Not at all like having years on your own before children are born. We had a month or so on our own and then two kids joined us, with their own habits and personalities to add to the mix. Add to that a new, risky pregnancy surprise and we end up with an "us" that's easy to lose among all the "dailies." I'm finding that even though I already knew that marriage takes work and effort, never just "falling into place" on its own, a second marriage with step family is even more of a fragile existence. It takes even more effort, more attention, more purposeful love than I ever imagined. I mean, going on a date with a person is one thing. Living with that person all the time, while trying to parent children that haven't always been a part of this particular household, plus work, plus groceries and errands and a new baby and doctor visits and shots and juggling bills and viruses that go around the house and feeding the dog and keeping up the laundry... well that's a whole other thing entirely!! Life tends to take over!! One has to be vigilant if she wants her relationship to be alive and healthy and fun and vibrant. It ain't for the faint of heart, I tell ya!

Ah well... Faint of Heart is something I cannot afford to be, and when I truly think about it, don't need to be if I trust God like I say I do...

Wanna See My Uterus?

2009-07-24T15:56:00.003-05:00

Well, mostly my uterus. But the important part is that little peanut in there. That's our baby! And the pink in the middle is the heartbeat. I had to show this one because the doppler image on the screen came out looking so much like an actual heart shape. Too cool, we thought. Dwayne got to see this one with me which was awesome since it's been 21 years since his son was born. Having a baby is a whole new ball game now, so it kind of feels like a first.

This week we had a little scare. Just a few days after I published our news, I had some spotting. Frightening indeed. I found that even though I just accepted this news, I certainly wasn't ready for this adventure to end that abruptly. I held my breath through another ultrasound until I saw that little heartbeat again, going as strong as ever. Thanks be to God.

I want my faith to be such that I can accept whatever is brought my way, be it blessing or loss. God's goodness certainly doesn't come and go with my circumstances. A hard place to be, however, when you anticipate a painful loss. I mean what do you say? Personally I've reached a point with God that I don't bother with platitudes. He already knows it all. So I get right to the point and tell Him what I want. Then I pray to be ready if what I want isn't what He has for me. "Thy will be done" is easy to say, not so easy to mean. For example, I came right out with "Please don't let this baby die. Please don't let me see an ultrasound with no heartbeat." I found it an interesting challenge of my faith over the last few days, to be in a place of knowing God may or may not take this child, and trying hard to keep myself honest, eventually having to admit that Him taking this baby was NOT ok with me. I guess we are all in that place always, whether we feel it or not. Loss comes often without warning, without giving us opportunity to pray for what we want to see happen. Believing that God is omnipotent places me at His mercy at all times. He can give or take away at any moment. I suppose He sometimes brings along moments like the ones I had this week to enable us to interact with Him. Little wake up calls, so to speak, or moments when He takes our faces in His hands and forces us to look at the condition of our belief in Him.

I'm grateful that my scary little blessing is alive and well in there, turning flips and growing into someone wonderful. And I'm grateful for the opportunity to walk with God, be it a smooth or rough road. What is abundantly clear to me right now is that He is way more capable of holding me than I am of holding onto Him.

Scary Blessings

2009-07-21T16:15:00.001-05:00

Last Friday, I fell in love again. This time with a baby.

The one that happens to be inside me right now.

Big news, I know. I’ve spent the last 10 days in utter shock and intermittent panic. I’m only 6 weeks and a few days along, and I know that’s pretty early to be blabbing such news. However, I figure I have shared almost every challenge in my life over the last few years on this blog, and truthfully when I don’t write about what I’m dealing with, I always regret it. I’m a writer at heart and I’m going to have to accept that. So regardless of what happens I might as well catalog this adventure here.

Anyway, as I mentioned, since discovering my pregnancy, I’ve been in shock, panic, fear, and a little bit of sadness I must admit. Dwayne and I have both shed our share of tears. This wasn’t something we were planning for. As a matter of fact we were planning AGAINST this. Because of the embolisms I had in 2007, pregnancy is a scary thing for me. So after two home tests and one doctor visit confirmed my fear, I ended up at a Perinatologist’s office on Friday, braced for the bad news about what this pregnancy might entail for me. I was still kind of hoping she’d somehow say “I don’t know what test you took, or what doctor you saw…you aren’t pregnant.” But she didn’t say that. The doctor plopped me up on a table and started squirting ultrasound stuff on my belly. She started poking around and I had a moment of more panic. Part of me hoped she found nothing, and part of me desperately hoped she found everything ok. Then I saw it. My baby’s heart beating away on the ultrasound screen… and there I went. That was all it took.

After that, two daily injections of blood thinner throughout the pregnancy weren’t quite so scary anymore, and the idea of an induced controlled labor wasn’t so horrifying. The swirling questions like “What if I get another clot? Or What if I bleed to death? And How will we afford this?” gave way to “Will it be a boy or a girl? And Will she be healthy? And Am I really going to get to meet the person produced by me and Dwayne?”

Scary blessings. That’s something God is into with me. Dwayne and I were laughing with Jim on Sunday after we told him, about how I’d been blogging lately about how my life is settling down….

Settling, schmettling. It’s evidently not in the plan for me. So… deep breath… I’ve trusted God for big things before, and this will be no exception. Me, my love, my kids, and the little heartbeat inside me will all be trusting Him for this one.

Giving What I Have

2009-07-20T15:40:00.000-05:00

This morning my pastor reminded me of a passage in Acts 3 I hadn’t thought of for a while. It’s one of those well known Bible stories, a Sunday School staple, and so I was familiar with the words. I even had a picture in my mind from childhood, a concept of what the scene would have looked like. Peter and John on their way to the temple and as they go, they pass the beggar by the gate called Beautiful. The beggar had been crippled from birth and the people would bring him to the gate so he could beg for alms. Peter and John passed by and he begged them for money just as he begged everyone else. What they said to him always gets me. “Silver and gold have I none, but what I have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.”

This morning those words had meaning to me in a different way than ever before. My husband and I were in a conversation the other day and he asked me what I was passionate about. (His passion for food makes him a great chef, a total joy to watch… not to mention the food I get to eat!) I didn’t want to talk about it. Though my main passions in life haven’t really changed, so much of my circumstance HAS changed that I’m not so sure these days that I have too many “passion outlets” so to speak. Call it adjusting to family life. Call it a lot of huge changes in a short time. Call it finally being realistic about what and who I am. I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m only saying that so much of my life has changed that I don’t express myself in the ways I always did before.

Here’s the kicker: God doesn’t always do things the way we expect. (ya THINK?) Here go Peter and John on the way to the temple, minding their own business. They get asked for some money. One would think they might consider just giving the money, and if they had none, which they stated was the case, then they might just say something like, “Sorry man, wish I could help, but I’m just as broke as you are.” But no. They were able to think outside the box. (At the suggestion of the Holy Spirit, I’m sure) They didn’t do what the man expected. They didn’t minister in the way most people would have. They had no money, and told the man so. What they did next was what really struck me this morning. Peter TOOK THE MAN BY THE HAND and he stood up and walked.

The weekend Dwayne and I eloped, I flew to New Orleans by way of Dallas, TX. I had to stop in Dallas to pick up my car. (Long story.) Anyway, I ended up on the plane next to a woman who appeared harmless at first glance, but the longer the plane ride, the more agitated and upset she became. At first, I thought I’d better leave her alone. I wanted to concentrate on my happy plans, after all. But the more upset she became, the stronger I felt I should reach out to her. So I went there. All it took was one glance over at her, one kind word and I was in. Come to find out, she was on her way to Dallas, having just learned the night before that her mother had been found dead in her home there. Upon hearing the news, my new friend had indulged a bit too much in some alcoholic beverage and so was completely clueless about where she was going and when she was supposed to get there. She was panicky, hung over, and completely in pieces. I held her hand and cried with her. Then when we finally landed, I took her arm, led her to the ladies room and then literally handed her to her brother who was waiting to pick her up.

That day I had no answers for that woman. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I even remember her name. I had no counseling degree, no professional designation, no title of “women’s minister” or “Christian speaker,” the usual things I would expect to be called upon to give her. At this moment, I find it laughable that I would have ever thought any of those things was enough, but at one time I did. I felt completely ill-equipped, since I was (and still am) asking my own very hard questions about the terrible things in life and why God allows them. But what I had, I gave to this woman. I had a warm hand, a couple of tissues, an open heart and some of my own tears. Once she walked away with her brother, I had a long ride to New Orleans to contemplate the situation. This morning when Jim read the passage in Acts 3, God brought that woman to my mind. I didn’t have the usual “grade A” church stuff to give that woman. I even felt completely incapable of helping her at all, my level of belief was so low at the time. However, all God asked me to do was give her what I had. And it was worth it. I could picture this morning as Jim read the words, Peter’s hand extended to the beggar, and then my own hand daring to reach out and touch a lady who was drunk and crying. What I had, I gave her.

This is the part that brings me tears. It doesn’t matter if a church, or a group, or anyone thinks I’m good enough. It doesn’t matter that I was on a plane and not a stage. So many things I don’t know about anymore, but one bottom line I’m still sure of is that God loves me and He changed my life. I have no clue why He has asked me to walk in some of the places He has taken me. But I know He’s never left me, even when I’ve been angry with Him or ignored Him altogether. That bottom line was all I had to give her, and that was exactly what she needed right then. She needed somebody like me who has finally been through enough pain to understand completely how somebody could end up drunk on a plane at 7:00 in the morning. She needed somebody who was tired enough of churchy phrases not to even bother offering her any. She needed somebody who felt dirty enough herself not to be put off at the idea of reaching out to a stranger who hadn’t combed her hair and who smelled of alcohol. That day she needed what I had to give.

Just like on that day recorded in Acts, the beggar needed what Peter and John had to give. He didn’t really need money, which perhaps could be why they were in a situation where they had none. After all, it certainly would have been easier to just throw a coin to the beggar and keep on walking. What Peter and John had to give the man required that they take him by the hand and get at least a little bit involved in his life. Definitely the more difficult of the two options. Just like me that morning on the plane. I felt totally stripped of anything worth giving to that broken woman. I feel broken myself so much of the time. And yet because of my own heartache, I was able to give her exactly what she needed.

All this stuff is swirling around in my heart, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it. I know my whole life is totally, radically different than what it was 2 years ago. I know I never expected the joy and the pain that I’ve had over the last months. I know in the middle of all this change, it’s difficult not to lose my purpose. But this morning’s thoughts helped me know it’s still there. I may not have the expected equipment, the stuff I used to take such pride in, but for some who will cross my path, I have exactly what is needed. My passion and purpose still lives. It lives in moments on airplanes, in unexpected phone calls, in opportunities to love unconditionally, at work when I listen to someone’s story for the hundredth time, or patiently answer the same question I answered five minutes ago. It’s a little of whatever I happen to have, given to whomever may need it, whenever that time happens to come along. That’s me. That’s what I do, and why I live. It’s why I lived 3 years ago when I rarely left the church grounds to accomplish such things, and it’s why I live now, when I rarely accomplish such things at church. Perhaps the purpose, just like the Purpose-Giver, doesn’t change. Perhaps our purpose and passion can remain intact and can take ever-evolving forms as our lives grow and change. Perhaps it’s about time I figured out that I can live His purpose for me in whatever circumstance I happen to be.

Building an Us

2009-07-02T13:36:00.003-05:00

I've missed you, blog! Oh I've been wonderfully busy with the most magnificent things, but I've still missed you!

I'm thinking today how fun it is to be making an "us" out of a "him" and "me." I'm getting a blessed opportunity to build a life together with my new husband and now the kids are home, which makes for a more crazy and infinitely more interesting journey. It's not easy to blend a family. It can also be delightfully rewarding.

One thing I love is that we began our marriage with a very seasoned, very established him, and a pretty seasoned and established me. I had my own things, he had his. I had my own traditions, he had his. I had my own ideas about how to make love work, and he had his. So now, we begin blending his things, his traditions, his ideas with mine and a new "us" is born. I have to say this is so much different from the first time when I had nothing. I was so young, I had literally no idea what I was doing. This time, I'm well aware of the risks, the sacrifices, the potential pain, as is he. We decided it was worth the risk and we jumped! Now I have to say what we're "cooking up" is pretty yummy, with the ingredients each of us has to give.

I must also say it's been awkward at times. Ya see, I married outside my denomination. (GASP!!!) And I married rather quickly, much sooner than the prescribed mourning period or whatever an approved amount of time it is a person is supposed to wait around before they move on after a divorce. A surprising move for a denominational poster girl like me. Some people aren't quite sure what to make of it. But I must be honest with you. I can't think of a marriage (except possibly my own parents) in my denomination or among people who would advise me against my choice, that I envy. Not one. Nobody seems to be having the kind of deep love, laughter, joy, and even heartwrenching passion that would make me look at their marriage and say "Boy, I wish I had a marriage like that." Know whose marriage I envy? MINE! Oh yeah, I know we just started and all that and we're still honeymooning and all that. I'm all too aware of the challenges we will face and the fact that we will have to work very hard at maintaining what we have begun. We've had our disagreements and already the obstacles are great. I suppose I'm trying to simply voice the thought that though my new marriage has met with some disapproval here and there, I find it interesting that the kind of love and depth of passion and joy I always dreamed of is now mine, and though my man isn't a member of my denomination, he demonstrates the kind of love and care I rarely saw inside my denomination between a husband and wife. I'd always been told marriage should be like this, but never saw it lived until now... a man outside my denomination happens to be showing me... and maybe them... how it's done.

This brings me to a sobering thought about my own self. How often have I written off people, due to their differences, perhaps in beliefs or looks or whatever, and missed something spectacular? See the amazing guy I'm married to now, wasn't on what would once have been my list of approved individuals with which to associate. Yowie! I suppose it took going through the kind of humiliation that rotated me off of some people's approved lists to open my mind and heart to something different, something deeper that just what I found inside my own self. Boy am I glad it did.

I have much more to download from my mind and my heart.

For now, I close with a list of happy pleasures:

Giggles and smiles in our home, a big goofy dog that loves my boy, loaning one of my favorite books to my daughter, catching up over coffee, holding wrinkled hands at work, a husband who is a chef... how could I ask for more??, noisy laughter that happens when kids sock slide on the wood floor down the hallway, and quiet moments with my babies just settling in at home.

Lazy River

2009-06-10T12:51:00.003-05:00

I miss my kids. Dreadfully. They stayed in Florida to finish school, and I have to admit the honeymoon time alone with my man has been absolutely incredible. Still, I miss my babies. It just isn't right not to have them in my arms. Their rooms are all ready and waiting. Every day Dwayne and I walk past empty kids rooms and kind of sigh to each other. We are pitiful! Only a few more days, though, and we'll have them home.

In the meantime, I'm settling in, finding my place. I'm finding that crazy drive I used to have, that push to get everything done RIGHT NOW is not so present in my life these days. The constant fear of letting everyone down, fear that I might not be the best, fear that I might fail and therefore suffer the loss of my worth as an individual is gone. The heavy weight of everyone's expectations or rather my concern over everyone's expectations is lifted.

Not that I've done away with goals or plans, or that I've said "forget it" to my heart's dreams. I'm not sure how to explain it except to say I've let go. Not of what I was created to do or be. I'm still doing and being. But I've let go of the idealistic me. The one that thought pleasing everyone would make everything alright. If only I could be good enough for everyone, I thought, then they'd be happy and so would I. HA! It don' work dat way, in case you was wonderin'!

These days I'm feeling more seasoned, more settled, more like I've landed. I'm pleased with my accomplishments thus far, but more than that I'm grateful to be accepted by God for who I am, failures and all. I'm grateful for the ability to take a deep breath, relax, and allow my life to ease along like a lazy river for a while. It seems I'm accustomed to stirring up rapids whenever possible, or perhaps rapids find me. Either way, while navigating rapids it's difficult to take in the scenery. And I must say my life involves some lovely scenery indeed.

Wave if ya see me float by!

Thanks, God.

2009-05-30T13:20:00.002-05:00

There is a theme, a sort of steady song ringing inside me these days. It's definitely one of gratitude. Seriously, just think about it...

It's Saturday morning. I'm sitting at a cute little coffee house with a white chocolate cappucino next to me. I have a doting husband who is absolutely nuts about me. He took me dancing last night. And made me surf and turf (steak and fish). Broiled fish in this yummy marinade with creole tomato slices on top with grilled steak. I wore a scandalous dress and felt like a queen. He's at work today so I stole some time to have brunch with a friend and do some catching up. Then over here to write a little.

I have a job I absolutely love. It suits me so well. I love making money doing something I adore. I'm working again at St. Francis Villa Assisted Living. SUCH a fun place, and my job is basically to increase the fun. Did I mention it's FUN???
My sweet husband is the chef at St. Francis Villa. He's been there a long time, so the residents are quite fond of him, and also of me I like to think. Our marriage and new beginning has been so sweet to experience with them. It's like celebrating with 60 grandparents. They can't wait for the kids to get here.

Neither can I. I have two absolutely beautiful children. They are almost finished with school in Florida and they'll be on their way home!! Their friends here are waiting excitedly, as are their mom and stepdad! Not to mention their new dog. (Anyone who's read this blog with any regularity knows I have no small amount of contempt for animals who excrete waste in my general area. However, this particular dog happens to be owned and very well trained by the man I love and I must admit I'm getting a little soft spot in my heart for him.) He's a gorgeous lab and is just itching for a little boy and girl to love.

I live in an amazing city and my home is in the most perfect location ever. I'm steps from the Mississippi and from Uptown New Orleans charm. I'm a few moments car ride from pretty much any are of the city I want to see and still located in a relatively wholesome neighborhood. At night I hear ships bellow at us from the river as they pass by, trains whistle to announce themselves as they speed through the town. Daytime brings just enough hustle and bustle, and yet my back yard (actually a river levee) reflects a relaxed ease that permeates this city even on its most raucous day.

I have lived deep sorrow and even deeper love. I can't understand but I CAN revel in the love of a God who would give Himself for me and who would stoop to understand and care about my every need. I have

Fresh Air, sunshine, vidalia onions and peace.
Laughter, strawberry jam, lazy mornings and joy.
Two blue eyed babies, unlimited mobile-to-mobile calling, sno-balls this summer and hope.
Romance, sweet wine, bubble baths and love.

A charmed life is mine indeed and I am grateful. Grateful enough to determine not to let a second go by that I don't fully experience and enjoy. The bad things are bad, and they're still there. Guess they always will be. But they are and always have been outweighed by the incredible sweetness that has been poured over my life.

Thanks, God. Seems silly, almost pitiful in light of the blessings bestowed upon me. But those words are loaded with emotion. He hears their inflection and He knows just what I mean.

About Time.

2009-05-25T17:40:00.002-05:00

Though I'm certain you can understand the reason for my lack of blog activity lately, I have to say myself, it's about time!

Last evening I experienced a feeling I haven't had in a very long time. I felt settled, steady, at home. I've spent the last four weeks nesting, adding my own touches to my husband's house, making it our home. I've been busy learning my new job and my new neighborhood. Over the last few years, my life has been full of plenty of uncertainty, and I must tell you I'm so pleased to be feeling rested, settled, grounded. I've chosen a home and an awesome new life and it feels SO good to be me right now. It's about time.

I have tons to write about... terribly interesting and wonderful things I've been mulling over in my brain. For now I've gotta run, promise to be back with more soon.

I ELOPED!!!

2009-05-01T19:29:00.002-05:00

I know this'll possibly be a shocker, since I have been very conservative with details on this blog about what has been happening in my love life. Truth be told, I've been conservative with details about my love life in pretty much every public arena and even more private relationships. After the end of a very public marriage in my past, and after a life lived under the scrutiny of others, I've treasured my privacy as I've fallen in love. I've treasured the happiness this love brings me and I'm savoring every moment of it for all it's worth. So now it's time to share a bit with you.

My new husband lives in New Orleans, works as a chef there. We met at work, had a bit of a sparky start to our friendship at first... but our friendship turned into love. This man is full of laughter and fun. He has been a friend to me during some very sad and very happy times. He has my heart in a way I didn't know was possible.

On Monday, my favorite day of the week, we married in a very quiet ceremony at a judge's home. Funny detail... my Granny and Papa eloped many many years ago. They woke up a judge in the middle of the night and he married them. Through a strange series of events, we also ended up at the home of a judge (not in the middle of the night) and I couldn't help thinking of Granny and Papa, how they got their start, and wonder if she felt as happy as I did. If that kind of start was good enough for their 60 year marriage, it's more than good enough for me. It was actually perfect for me. The lack of the normal circus events that surround weddings gave me blissful freedom to consider, soak in, and completely enjoy my marriage ceremony. It was personal, and private, and precious.

This is us, starting a new life. A very new, very wonderful life.

Inanimate Object

2009-04-19T20:10:00.002-05:00

If I were an inanimate object, I realized today exactly what I'd want to be.

One of those big round shiny balls that you buy in WalMart for $2.50. The brightly colored marbl-ey kind. The kind that makes a loud noise when you bounce it, and the slightest force produces in it an enormous, enthusiastic bounce. Those things are full of joy and life. They are fun, almost irresistable to play with. They are simple, but inviting. They are at home on a concrete slab and also in a grassy backyard. Little kids like them, but grown ups do too. They get along with all kinds of people. They bring a good time to an ordinary day.

Yup... that's what I'd wanna be.

Happy Easter

2009-04-12T08:18:00.004-05:00

He is Risen!!

Today culminates the quietest Easter season of my life. No fanfare this year. No rehearsals, no running around. Not even a new dress. I'll be attending a service this morning, quietly with my family (or as quiet as we get anyway) but I'll not step foot on the stage area and won't be called upon to spout profundity or bare the contents of my overflowing heart for all to observe.

Only here I share with you the most precious truth for me this Easter. It started 2 weeks ago as I sang an old song with words that were new again to me: "He took my sins and my sorrows, He made them His very own. He bore the burden to Calvary and suffered and died alone." The last several years of my life I've become more familiar with sin and sorrow than I ever imagined I'd be. And to know, to make that truth personal again, that He took MY sin and MY sorrow, and made them His very own... makes me realize again the reason I will love Jesus forever. I have been and am now deeply loved by some of the most wonderful human beings ever created. Yet, all that love is just a shadow of the One who went past sympathy, past compassion, past mercy and made my sorrows His own. He alone can truly identify with me, understand me, accept me, and when all other loves fail... still love me completely. Beyond all the celebration, underneath the high note hallelujahs of today, Easter this year whispered very real, very intimate, very personal realization to me. Jesus reached down and took me on in all my crazy quirks, mistakes and mishaps. The me nobody can fully understand is known completely by Him and loved anyway.

In joy or sadness, sorrow or celebration, this truth is the source of life and love for me. Jesus did for me what I couldn't do for myself, and because of Him I am forever loved and accepted. Because of Him, I have hope now and always.

The old hymn finishes out: "How marvelous, how wonderful! And my song shall ever be, How marvelous, how wonderful is my Savior's love for me." And now, with no one to hear but that Savior, my heart sings it.

Happy Easter.

Seasons Collide

2009-04-06T19:02:00.004-05:00

Christy sent me a picture taken from our fun dinner evening.

I named it "old and new." The sight struck me as soon as I saw it. The tree, as you can see, has blossoms and older fruit on it at the same time. It reminded me of life and how it sometimes works. Reminds me of my life right now. Full of the promise of newness... the blossoms, and still sporting the results of the last season... the fruit. I kind of liked the sight of it, and the thought. I liked the idea that life's seasons sometimes collide. Sometimes we get to savor fruit and smell blossoms at the same time. Here's me doing just that:

It Don't Get No Better'n dis!!!

2009-03-25T20:14:00.004-05:00

This evening was an utterly blissful experience. Christy came over with the kids. We threw together a spaghetti dinner and headed outside to eat in the fresh air. At my house right now, fresh air is heavily laden with the scent of orange blossoms and dirt.

With children running and playing freely, Christy and I rocked in rocking chairs on the porch. We sipped sweet wine and laughed. We talked in the open-hearted, nothing-to-hide way that best friends can. We ate lime cookies. There was an absolutely delicious breeze. There was serious profundity shared, and some senseless silliness too.

I LOVED IT!!! More deep and wonderful thoughts to follow... but now...

I have very dirty toes from strolling in the grove and homemade sugar scrub and lotion to play with. Time for a luxurious shower and some much needed rest. (Hear my thoroughly satisfied sigh) Life, my friends, is a string of exquisite moments if we'll only stop and savor them. I'm off to do my savoring. You do some too, ok?

Crazy Love

2009-03-17T18:43:00.003-05:00

Have you ever considered the joy, sheer JOY of pleasing someone you love? This weekend I had a chance to bring some serious happiness to someone I love very much. I looked forward to the experience, but when it actually happened I was caught off guard by the wonder of it. Perhaps there is no greater joy in my life than seeing the people I love gleam with happiness. To know that I had the ability to cause that shining smile is a joy and satisfaction that I find hard to describe.

I think too often we subscribe to a self pleasing kind of love that doesn't need to sacrifice and gets it's thrill from how good love can feel to one's self. Too often we forget the absolute pleasure involved when you invest yourself in another person, give your best to love that person, and see the efforts of your love come through in a smile, a laugh, or a happy reaction.

Love is a risk. It's scary. It can be painful. But all those things have to do with MYSELF. It's a risk TO ME because I might not be loved in return. It's scary because the one I love might fail me. It's painful because the object of my love might not meet my expectations.

It's interesting how all the fear falls away when I allow myself to focus on another: the one I love. I move past the risk, the fear, the pain, and let myself give to the person I love, expecting nothing in return. Just loving out of the utter satisfaction of being able to love.

One of the first verses I memorized as a child was "God is love." Those three words pack a serious punch. God IS love. If God is in me, then love is in me. Not just a little love, but a God-sized, never-ending, never-failing love. It continuously springs up from somewhere and allows me to give that crazy love and enjoy it to the fullest. It's a love that doesn't run out and keeps coming when it seems there should be nothing left. It's a firsthand miracle that I witness in myself every day.

Well, I take that back. I witness it in myself when I get outta the way and allow it to happen. There are certain things: anger, shame, blame, stuff like that will seriously clog the pipes and inhibit love's flow in my life.

But on the days when I let it, this incredible love is there and it flows out of me. And although it seems like something I'm giving, the truth is I'm getting so much joy from the process it seems as if I'm GETTING instead. Here is what I think is TOO COOL: I know very well the pain involved in loving. My worst imagined fears in the love department have become awful, awful realities. And yet... I LOVE. I love LOVE. Somehow I've emerged able to still function in love. OH, not somehow... I know how. Because GOD IS LOVE. And because God is in me, love is in me. Period. And I get to play in it and enjoy it and dump it on other people. I also get to spend zero time worrying about the risk. It's crazy, and I love it.

I'll have a King Kong movie, please. Hold the Kong.

2009-03-09T20:16:00.003-05:00

This afternoon I was told, and I quote: "Trouble follows you." Well...

I prefer to think that my life is full of adventure.

Not the least of which was had today when a bomb was found in the parking garage where I park my car to go to work. Why in the world anyone would bother bombing a po-dunk parking garage in Lakeland Florida is beyond me, other than utter foolishness. However, it did make for some excitement which can be sorely lacking in my workdays. When we walked outside at lunch, there was a bomb squad and helicopter hovering, newscameras everywhere and people standing gazing up at the tall buildings. The only thing missing was King Kong and we would have had a hit movie on our hands!!

Happily, the bomb was either dismantled or found to be nothing, and by the time I left the parking garage with my dad's truck (my car was totaled 2 weeks ago, remember?) all were gone except one lone newscaster doing a live 5:00 report. I didn't even get on TV. Shoot.

In other news, I ran across a unique name and street address today. One that simply demanded a limerick from me. Unlike my wonderful friend, Mary (see top right blog titled "Calico Dreams") who is able to steadily produce a limerick each Friday, I seem to have limerick attacks. During one such attack last week, at least ten limericks were produced by my twisted brain in one day. Most of them were messaged to my coworkers, just for fun. Today, I suppose, was simply a limerick hiccup. It's actually the first limerick I've published here, but you'll see. It's just a combination that demands limericism. (is that a word?)

Oh the woes of poor Ms. Irma Dill
Whose insurance rates make her feel ill.
She may go insane
In her house on Crane Lane
Unless I can help her cut the bill.

I'm sorry. You just can't top a good limerick sometimes. However not all people are appreciative of the limerick. Today's rhyme didn't even produce a snicker from my coworkers.

BUT, blessedly, my dear family laughed UPROARIOUSLY at my limerick (too uproariously to be just polite laughter) at this evening's belated birthday dinner. There was steak, baked potatoes, corn, green beans, onions and homemade chocolate cake. We ate way too much and then, as usually happens when we are all sitting around together, we laughed until there were tears running down our faces and severe nausea was had by all. A perfect ending to the day.

A bomb, a limerick, and a birthday party. All in less than 12 hours. None of these things were ordered by me, none of them I wished for. But all of them came my way adding spice and joy and adventure to my life. Sometimes the best things in life are things I can't work toward, strive for, or dream up on my own. Sometimes the best things are simply things God hands me just for fun. I ask you... who on earth is more blessed than I?

Still Writin'

2009-03-03T18:53:00.003-06:00

I promised reflection, and so for what it's worth... here it is.

In looking back over the last year of my life, well, it goes without saying that a lot has changed. Some changes were my own choice. Some were the result of choices other people made. Either way, the change is there and it's good. One thing I like about life and about God is the ability we have to constantly re-evaluate, start over again and again, and constantly readjust our lives and our thinking. It's just one of the sparkling facets of the jewel we call grace.

Over the past year, I'd say re-evaluation and readjusting has been a theme. Perhaps some of my adjustments have surprised some. Myself included.

It comes down to this: Over the last year, I've started my life over. But not in a rip-off-the-page-and-keep-writing-on-the-same-notepad kind of way. More in a get-a-whole-new-notepad-plus-a-different-pen kind of way. In some ways I've been forced and in some ways I've chosen to question absolutely everything I've believed and everything I've been and everything I thought I wanted to be. There are still MANY question marks hanging around. That's ok with me. Slowly but surely I'm putting things back together. I'm addressing some hard truths about the way I lived in the past. I'm addressing some questions that I suppose have always been there, but my past identity didn't give me the freedom to ask them.

Perhaps over the next days I can get more specific about those questions and truths. Maybe it'll help someone else to hear me ask... even if I don't yet have the answers.

Either way, old notepad or new, I'm still writin' and still livin' and still lovin' every minute of it. Can't wait to see what this year brings!

33

2009-03-02T19:35:00.002-06:00

Good heavens. I'm 33!

Spent my birthday in a whirlwind of bliss. I do love whirlwinds of bliss. The only downside (if you can call it that) is that I haven't had quite the time to reflect as deeply as I normally would. I say downside because I'm definitely feeling it. I'm feeling the need to delve deeply and perhaps this evening I will, once the kids are in bed and all the daily responsibilities are said and done. Perhaps I'll even publish some of the findings.

We'll see... In the meantime, watch out, 33! I'm takin you by storm!

Trigger

2009-02-25T05:46:00.002-06:00

I got in a car accident last night. The kids and I are all fine, thanks be to God. My car, however, is not fine. As in it no longer has a trunk. At all.

Here's the funny thing. I cried myself to sleep over this. I'm still crying. What is WRONG with me?? I mean the accident wasn't just a little fender bender, however my precious babies escaped completely unharmed and myself with only a headache. Silly things like cars can be replaced. I'm not sure why this affected me so.

Have you ever had something just trigger a flood of emotion in you? I think that's what happened to me. Sometimes (and it's funny that I just wrote about independence) it freaks me out how my heart handles things differently now that I am divorced. I am the main provider for myself and these children. I bought that car myself and use it to accomplish said provision. And I will figure out a way to work this out. I'm an insurance agent for heaven's sake, I know how claims work and will deal with this one. I'm totally ok.

And yet I'm crying like a baby. It's funny the traffic jam of emotion. There's the tough me, the me that knows I'll deal with this and it'll be fine. And there's the softie me, the one that just wants to lay down and cry. The one that is sad because the first car I ever bought by myself is ruined. The one that wants to cry herself a river because things aren't always as easy as she wants them to be. There's the reflective me, the one that is so grateful that there can be a car that no longer has a trunk, but no harm to the little boy in the backseat of that car. There's the responsible me, the one that has already entered the claim report online and is wondering how she'll replace this car if it is totaled. There's dark me, the one that is mad and wished bad stuff would stop happening to me. And there's sunny me, the one that is just happy we are all ok, and absolutely refuses to let this stop the party.

All those me's get together and the meeting produces quite the emotional stir in me. Ah well...

Bottom line, I say (crying while I say it) that my head is up, my heart is open, I'm a happy woman, so bring it on. Again.

Independently Dependent?

2009-02-18T20:23:00.006-06:00

Had too much fun on a Valentine's trip to New Orleans!! The kids and I are worn out but happy as clams.

I have a whole bunch of interesting thoughts swirling. Earlier tonight, my friend Rachel called me to discuss her topic for LIVEChat. Independence and interdependence. I LOVED the idea! It really hit home to me and I've been thinking on it ever since.

Independence and interdependence are at war inside me all the time. I was brought up a little girl who dreamed of having a home and family, a husband who would support me so I could play the role I was "created" for, that of a wife and mother. Yeah, only that didn't happen. For one thing, I got married to a man who worked in ministry, hardly a profession that provides for one-income family type arrangements. (Hmmm... interesting how the very institution that taught me I belonged at home... eh...that's another thought for another blog.) And secondly, any time I was able to spend doing the "at home mommy" thing, well... I hated myself and life in general. I struggled for years to finally accept the fact that I enjoy the challenge of work and career and that is OK.

My point is that I was trained, as MANY little girls are, to plan for and even aspire to interdependence. I was taught that the "right" life for me as a woman would involve interdependence upon a husband to support me and "lead" me in the right direction. It would involve interdependence upon a church and the people around me that I looked to for guidance. Nice idea, huh? Except life doesn't always work that way. In fact, it pretty much never works that way. Without fail, people fail. And so, those people I was trained to be dependent upon proved not very dependable, and some of the ideas I placed my innocent heart's belief in also proved not so dependable.

And thus, I learned independence. I learned that I, a moderately intelligent, generally positive, friendly, creative woman could indeed make it all by myself. Not only could I be independent, but I could handle the dependence of a lot of other people upon me. And you know what? I LIKED it. It's quite a rush being able to accomplish such things. There's just one problem with this kind of independence...

IT WEARS YOU OUT!!!!

Here's what I know: Being dependent doesn't work. Neither does being totally independent. There must be a balance somewhere between the two. (For anyone who worries what I mean, I do not speak here of dependence upon God. There is no argument that all of us are utterly dependent upon Him whether we know it or not, like it or not. I speak in this instance of human relationships.)

I've got enough spunk that I experience a wave of nausea at being a sniveling, weak, dependent woman who needs a man (or friend, or church, or whatever) to help her make decisions and function in life. I've also got enough tenderness that I fatigue at being a hard-lined independent woman who needs NO ONE and handles everything all on her own.

I find it interesting that I was taught as a girl that dependence was the proper way for me, all the while I was expected to grow up capable of being not only independent, but of handling the dependence of others like my husband, needy church people, my children, and whoever else might come along needing my help. And being an "all or nothin" type of person, it's kind of difficult for me to balance. I find I tend to either deeply feel my need for the friendship, approval, and support of others, or I defiantly feel satisfied and smug in my own independence. I have little middle ground. Which way the pendulum is swinging depends upon my mood, my circumstances, or my situation at any given moment.

Here's what I wonder: What if I could, confident in the fact that I can be independent, choose to risk dependence upon another person? Is there such a thing as independently dependent?

I think so. I also think this is a risk I must take if I wish to have meaningful relationships. I think there are appropriate moments when tough-girl independence is a must, and I think there are moments when I choose to let my heart be dependent on someone, further choosing to believe they are worth that risk, even if they let me down. Perhaps then, I must be independent in order to be dependent. Perhaps knowing I CAN do it on my own frees me to choose NOT to do it on my own sometimes.

Hmmmm.... then I must arrive at the conclusion that I'm an independent woman who sometimes chooses to allow herself to be dependent. Dependence is a risky business. What if they let me down?

But what if they don't? And that, my friends, is what makes relationships worthwhile. Sometimes people don't come through for us, but sometimes they DO, and those moments of sweetness, when a friend reaches out, when a loved one shows up, when a hand is there to hold yours just when you need it most... those are the moments in life I don't want to miss.

So I guess I independently choose to be dependent when I'm ready to be. Or even when I'm not ready. It's a risk I've taken and will keep taking in order to experience love and life.

Depend... kind of sounds like DEEP END. Kind of sounds like where a girl like me isn't scared to swim. Anybody wanna do a cannonball?

Know what I love?

2009-02-08T18:17:00.002-06:00

STRAWBERRIES!

There are few things on earth more beautiful than a strawberry: perfectly ripe, perfectly red, perfectly topped with a green leafy hat. Strawberries are in season in my neck of the woods right now, and I've spent this afternoon covered in them. I made three batches of homemade strawberry jam! Two high octane batches and one reduced sugar batch for my daddy who is a diabetic.

Now, normally I'm not the happy homemaker type. Oh, I can hold my own in a kitchen and I manage to run a functional home, but I do enjoy transacting business and having a career also. So it's not like you'll find homemade bread or any kind of crafty-type things around my house. BUT part of the magnificence of femininity is that in less than a 24 hour period, I can enjoy traditional homemaking and fast paced career activities... and I mean completely enjoy BOTH.

But I'm getting off the subject... Back to the strawberries.

I love making jam. It's sticky and messy, and I burned my finger but I still love it. You've smelled fresh strawberries, right? Imagine that smell magnified 1000 times as the strawberries and sugar heat up to just the right point. It's amazing, I tell you. PLUS, the process produces this pink foamy stuff that you can include in your jam or skim off the top (most people skim it) and it tastes incredible, has the consistency of strawberry mousse. The jars make the cutest little popping sound as they seal. The whole process is sweet, sticky, productive and incredibly fun.

I've made plenty of jam before, but this time I couldn't help getting a little nostalgic about the whole thing. This time I made the jam in my Granny's kitchen. (I live here, and she's in heaven, but it'll always be her kitchen.) I used a hand held chopper that was once hers. It still has bits of the masking tape she wrapped around the handle to protect her fingers, though my dishwashers have worn most of the tape away in the years I've had it. I stood at her sink, chopping with her chopper and looking out windows she looked out of for so many years as she ran her household. I'm frankly not too sure why I'm here or how long I'll be in this place, but today's moments were part of what I expected to experience here: a reminder of just who I am and where I've come from. I needed the reminder, since lately I've felt as if I'm just back at square one. Maybe I am. But while I'm here, I'm soaking up the facts of who I am so that I can move forward, confident in those facts and in myself.

All that from strawberry jam...

Did I mention I love strawberries?

Tiny Gifts

2009-02-07T20:10:00.003-06:00

Wow, how did Saturday arrive again? It's been a week of learning, and applying some things I've been learning. And it ain't so easy. Old habits die hard, for one thing, and letting life overwhelm me is a very old habit of mine. I'm happy to report, however, that habit IS dying.

This week I gave a presentation for a group of homeschool moms... about making sure we get all the joy out of every day life. Only that very day, some events occured that made it VERY challenging for me to hang onto the joy. Happily, since I didn't want to talk something I refused to walk, I had to force myself to maintain my focus and refuse to allow the hurtful behavior of another person overwhelm my joy.

If a cheating husband, pulmonary embolisms, hurricanes, divorce and single parenthood have taught me anything, they've taught me how to appreciate the small joys and pleasures in life and how to focus on those tiny joys to maintain a healthy perspective. I know all too well that tomorrow could get much, much worse than today. I must enjoy every tiny gift that comes my way. Those small things: the laughter of my children, the sparkle in their blue eyes, cute earrings on sale, the smell of coffee brewing, a succession of green lights when I'm in a hurry, leather scented car jar air freshener, a hot shower, a cold drink. Such things are the stuff of a fun life. They show up on the good days, and on the bad days they show up too.

On good days, we miss those tiny gifts because we don't think we need them. On bad days, we miss them because we are too busy letting the negative things in life overwhelm us. I've learned that appreciating the simple things isn't simple at all. It takes focus, determination, and relentless practice. To put it plainly, having fun is hard work!! But it's worth it!!!

Sedentary

2009-01-31T12:55:00.003-06:00

It's Saturday. I had to work this morning, but now....

Now I'm lying on my couch in a sweatshirt and comfy jeans. I'm surrounded by junk food, and I have the remote control in my hand and no one to compete with for its possession.

I'm going to spend the rest of the afternoon right here.

See ya!

Market Research

2009-01-28T16:54:00.002-06:00

I had a great time on the cruise. I'd never done that before, and I SO enjoyed the time with my sister. We ate what we wanted, did what we wanted WHEN we wanted. That was a treat for us two mommies!!

There was an interesting dynamic, because it was KLOVE radio's Christian music cruise. So there was an element of people... an element that used to be my comfort zone... that made the cruise an interesting time of reflection for me.

Oh, there are many deep reflections to be told. But not now. For now, I'll tell you something very interesting that I learned on this cruise...

The KLOVE powers that be, or Premier Christian cruises, whomever... made an interesting choice. They closed the dance club on the ship, and turned it into a bookstore, but left the casino open.

News flash...

A LOT more Christians dance than gamble!!! Who knew?? The casino was deader than a doornail the whole time, but based upon the dancing I witnessed (and YES participated in) on the Lido deck during a certain midnight music session, the dance club would have been hoppin!! I find this an interesting observation, though not terribly surprising once given a little thought. I mean, given the choice between the two, dancing is certainly the funner. (I know funner's not a word... SO?) Although, I have very little experience in either arena, being raised up to believe that both dancing and gambling were not things in which a good girl would indulge. I only did one... just the dancing. Especially since I have no money to lose, and dancing is free. So for future reference, dear Christian cruise planners, close the casino and make your money on the dance club!!

And there, my friends, is a very valuable piece of information for you. Hope you have occasion to use it sometime.

Sea-escape

2009-01-21T18:42:00.002-06:00

Whoa. My life right now is like drinking from a fire hydrant. Adventure-having is hard work!!

Tomorrow I leave on my first cruise! I'm going with my sis. Truth is, I do not have time to be cruising right now, but this cruise is a wonderful gift and I'm going anyway. Who knows... maybe when I think I can handle it least is when I need it most.

The emotional pile I have to sort through right now is fathoms deep anyway. Perhaps a few days at sea will help me get started.

For now, it's bon voyage! Or whatever you say...

Back to the Laundry Room

2009-01-10T08:51:00.003-06:00

It's Saturday morning. I'm working on housework and catching up on things. Just me and my son here, and we're having an easygoing day. My girl is in the woods with her Papa on her first hunting trip!

It's been an adventuresome week. Between work, and mommy stuff, and business, and just being alive... things can get busy!

My son had a physical this week. Have you ever tried to get a six year old boy to pee in a cup? It's one of those moments, standing over the toilet holding a small cup in my hand, waiting for a boy with interesting aim to fill 'er up, when time seems to freeze and I laugh at the absurdity of life. Trust me, no giddy pregnant woman who is shopping for monogrammed burp cloths and cute little blue bassinet bedding pictures herself holding a pee cup one shining day in her future. Oh no indeed. She also doesn't fantasize about trying to clean regurgitated stomach contents out of a car seat, or drag a screaming child out of a public place. She doesn't daydream about explaining the menstrual cycle to her daughter, or trying to keep a handle on pre-teen drama and emotion.

She certainly never pictures herself single and learning to be "man of the house" as well. She doesn't aspire to be able to kill huge roaches in one single, powerful shoe slap, or to be tough enough to assure her boy that if anyone tried to get in the house "mommy will kick their butt." And she NEVER NEVER NEVER hopes to be able to effectively treat head lice or graciously wear diaper overflow on her clothing.

Interestingly enough, though she'll never dream of conquering these absurd moments, the ones that come in abundance to ordinary women, they're the moments she'll be proudest of and the ones she'll treasure most because of their laughter and fun.

That's life. Real life. The life I choose to live and choose to love.

Time to head back to the laundry room!

Welcome

2009-01-04T17:11:00.003-06:00

Welcome to 2009!

The one I love told me "this is our year." I like that. The statement resounds with possibility and opportunity. It sings of the happy times I have now, and happy times I look forward to having. Mostly it is a reminder to me that the life I want is mine already. The person I am is at home and accepted. God decided that. So in brokenness or wholeness, I am free to embrace every moment of the time given to me.

Possibly the most important lesson of my life has been learning to enjoy each day. My yesterdays are gone, I have no guarantee of tomorrow, and today, each day, is full of joy if I'll only let it be. It is my choice to enjoy the sweet, the simple, the silly and even the strange. It's my choice. And I so choose.

Welcome to 2009! Welcome, 2009.

It's Christmas Eve

2008-12-24T09:23:00.003-06:00

It's Christmas Eve. Today there is a lump in my throat. I've been thinking back on where I was last Christmas, and how far I've come since then.

Last year I sat in a Christmas Eve service and wept while a pastor asked everyone to hug their spouses. I sat there abandoned and alone. This year there is someone my heart loves. Someone who loves my heart back.

Last year I had nothing to give my children. Some incredible saints from Riverside provided a nice Christmas for them. This year, though it wasn't much, I was able to play Santa myself.

Last year I was in a state of shock, reeling, and wondering what to do next. This year, I'm full of possibilities and new horizons, wondering what will happen next.

I'm reminded that I, all of us for that matter, are mere seconds, a devastating conversation, just one unwelcome revelation away from shattering grief. Last Christmas I was experiencing a shatter. This Christmas, I'm admiring the pieces that are coming back together.

But one thing remains the same. Last Christmas, even in my blinding grief, I celebrated the birth of the One who gives me hope. And this year is no different. I may be more whole, I may feel less pain, but I need Him no less, and cherish His coming just as intensely as ever.

Jesus is born! He was born for crazy, worthless, undeserving me. He never changes and that makes all the difference.

Merry Christmas!!!

Still Me

2008-12-21T12:51:00.003-06:00

I'm sitting alone in my home, in utter silence. Kids are at their dad's for the weekend, and I'm alone. Moving to Florida has bought me this alone time. I knew it would, and was afraid of it, too. But it's not so bad, actually. It's kind of wonderful.

Good news, I wrote today. Well, I'm writing now, obviously. But earlier today I wrote creatively out of something my heart is passionate over. It was a poem. A poem of love, actually, if you must know. I find the fact that I wrote extremely comforting.

So many things in my life are being redefined right now. I've stepped away from traditional church. I've stepped out of all extra curricular responsibilities. I've moved home, to a place of slow, quiet, easy life. (Slow, quiet, and easy are not my normal cup of tea in case you haven't noticed.) I've fallen in love with someone nobody expected me to love. I didn't expect it either, for the record, but it's so there. (dreamy sigh) I'm making choices and carving out a new life. I'm sorting out right and wrong and yes and no and I will and I won't. Taking some, leaving others. And in the midst of all that, I guess I'm just glad to feel the familiar old spark of something in my heart... a spark that gets hotter until it becomes a phrase, then a sentence, then a succession of ideas until it spills out through my tears into a completed work.

Hopefully the benefactor of this work will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed bringing it forth.

What only I will be able to enjoy, however, is the comfort of the fact that though I'm being me in different ways than I ever expected, and my life is taking on different characteristics than I planned, I'm still me. And Still me. (as in me being still) I'm still in here loving God, loving life, and there is still hope and joy and emotion stirring deep in me.

And enjoy it, I will. Right now, I believe. Along with a beverage of my choice.

Cheers!

Random Stuff

2008-12-17T16:51:00.002-06:00

Here are some things I've found quite enjoyable:

I ordered a box of calendars as Christmas giveaways for work. My calendars came in, and on the outside of the box the words were printed: DATED MATERIAL INSIDE. HA HA HA!! Get it? It gave me a chuckle!!

Late last night my phone rang. It was a Certain Someone on the other end. He said "Just wanted to tell you I love you." That's all. I love phone calls like that.

Today I ate lunch at my kids' school. For now, and I know this time is SO fleeting, but for now I'm cool to my kids. They were proud to have me with them. I loved it.

Happy things abound in my life. Plus it's Christmas. So here are some more things I am CHOOSING to enjoy:

Christmas without the busy. This year, there are no musicals, no special events to play in, no parties, no craziness. Just me, the ones I love, and the absolute minimum of activity.

Bliss.... Bliss indeed.

Gettin' Tough

2008-12-09T20:53:00.003-06:00

Listen to me and listen good...

Here's what you need to do. Get a punching bag and some boxing gloves. Get a 300 pound strong-man brother and a kicking pad. Get some weights and some foamy floor pads on which to do push-ups. Then let the 300 pound brother ruthlessly push you to your limit and beyond. (No he doesn't go easy on the baby sister.)

People. It is amazing! I now know endorphins are real, but beyond that, I'm pretty darn proud of myself. To tell you the amount of weight I can lift would detract too much from my femininity. So let's talk punching. It's AWESOME! And kicking!! Tonight I learned front kicks and roundhouse. Basically, if you try to attack me, you are totally GOIN' DOWN!!

I swear a couple of times I thought I might puke, but I worked hard and it felt great. Plus, it's amazing what I can do when someone is in my face saying "Come on! 5 more!" or "You're halfway there. Let's go!" Part encouragement, part kick in the butt.

I think life's that way. And God, of course, is the personal trainer. The most personal of all. I can picture Jesus in my face going "Come on! You can do this!" I think sometimes, some seasons of life, He does that kind of one-on-one personal training.

Anyway, leave it to me to get all philosophical about exercise. I just HAD to tell you how much I'm enjoying this. Here's the bottom line: Punching and kicking things is fun. Try it sometime. 'At'll cure what ails ya', Baby!

And if you're in the Lakeland area, by the way, the aforementioned brother will take you also to happy-training-and-becoming-so-freakin-tough land. I'll put you in touch.

Writin about some stuff

2008-12-08T20:48:00.003-06:00

Whew! Had another whirlwind trip to New Orleans. A Certain Someone needed a date for a Christmas party and who was I not to save the day? Kids were with their dad for the weekend so off I went. FUN!

Fun ends there. Now fasten your seatbelt. I'm gonna write about some stuff.

I've spent my whole life in church. I was married to a minister, and considered that something really fancy that I did for God. (are you laughing yet?)I had an answer for everything. Then, my minister left me. Not before my marriage went through a few years of hell first, but he left. And I got a quick and effective introduction to real life. I went from nice little ministry wife with nice little life mapped out for her to being a single mom with a life of her very own. And though that status was thrust upon me, I can't say I'm sorry. I kinda like it. I'm enjoying the challenge and adventure of finding the answers... HONEST answers to life's questions. Even of getting to ask some questions I've never had the freedom to ask before.

Here's some stuff I'm figuring out:

- Lots of people don't like it when people get lives of their own. Especially when they choose to do unexpected stuff, to step outside the box they were supposed to be in. Hmmm...

- Lots of people jump to conclusions. I do too. It creates real problems in relationships.

- The most godly things I've ever done have had absolutely nothing to do with church OR with the prescribed rules and regs imposed by my churchy image. That's painfully honest, but it's true. I don't yet know what that means for my life or for who I am becoming. It's just a truth.

This is a wild journey, people. I hope you're up for the ride, cause I'm pretty sure I'm gonna make some mistakes. I'll probably take some chances. I'll definitely try my wings and I might do some stuff you don't like. But along the way I'll be embracing life and love and enjoying every amazing minute. I'll be keeping my heart open to God, open to people. I'll be keeping my brain willing to learn, and my days full of laughter. It's been crazy so far and it could get crazier. And ya know what???

I LOVE IT!!! Let's go!!

Hair Infidelity

2008-12-04T21:10:00.002-06:00

I did it. I cheated on my hair guy. My hair and I have been faithful to the same hair guy, our beloved Jimmy, for 5 years now. Moving to Florida wasn't even going to stop me from using Jimmy to keep my hair lookin good. Only while I was in New Orleans for Thanksgiving, the days were accomplished that I should have a haircut. Except Jimmy decided he wasn't going to be in town for Thanksgiving. AAAAAHHH!

My hair doesn't go 5 weeks without a cut. It just doesn't. Not if I want to maintain its attitude. And so I did it.

I went to Salon Salvatore. This place came highly recommended by friends from work. You can imagine my guilt as I walked in this place.

It

Was

AWESOME!

I walked in the door and as they checked me in, I was offered a drink. I took the Bud Light, of course. The shampoo was a MASSAGE. It took forever!!! The conversation was great. Not Jimmy, but still great. There were beautiful people and beautiful surroundings. I was pampered and relaxed and got a freakin' awesome haircut.

Sigh...

It was truly incredible. But still as I left the salon right after I made an appointment for my next indiscretion, I couldn't help feeling my heart break a little.

I missed Jimmy, and getting my haircut in my own kitchen since Katrina destroyed his shop. I missed big pots of chili, and my framily digging in while we take turns getting haircuts in the kitchen chair. I missed sweeping up 5 different colors of hair after we were all done.

Sigh...

Anyway, it was incredibly cool at Salon Salvatore. Yet another bittersweet moment in this transition. Life's give and take.

So... does this make me a... a hair whore?? I know, I know... time to get some rest before I digress any more.

Punchin Bag Profundity

2008-12-02T20:49:00.003-06:00

I love life.

I love my life.

There is a big difference in those two statements. Both are profound. Obviously, it is important to love life. But it's another thing entirely to ask myself if I love MY life. And my answer to myself is YES.

I love the adventures I get to have. I love the people I get to love. I love the moments that come my way. Even the sad ones. Life isn't easy. Matter of fact, it is often downright miserable. Relationships are hard. Painful things happen. It's funny but no matter how nasty things get, something in me always bobs up to the surface of the mire, ready for more of life. I just can't quit.

This week my life is crazy. I had a great trip to New Orleans for Thanksgiving, and I spent the holiday with someone I love. I embraced a happy moment for all it was worth. I laughed with my kids. I punched a punching bag... HARD. My crazy life is precious, and it's mine.

Something wonderful happened to me this week. Perhaps more to come about that event later. For now, unfortunately, I feel some dust should settle first. Perhaps some feathers be allowed to unruffle themselves. If for no other reason than to avoid cheapening a blissful moment in my life by exposing it to the further scrutiny of public opinion.

So instead I'll tell ya this...

Though not the pinnacle of the last week of my life, the punching bag thing was TOTALLY awesome!! I'll be making a habit of that. I'll also be adding it to the list of remedies for the blues. Probably moving it up there toward the top of the list! Plus I look awesome in boxing gloves.

Pictures of Life

2008-11-23T19:24:00.004-06:00

I've finally gotten around to downloading some pictures of life here in Florida. Here are Levi and my mom in my kitchen makin' orange juice!

And who knew watermelon was in season at Thanksgiving?? The kids have been watching a lonely little watermelon vine that sprung up last year after someone tossed some seeds behind the shed. It was growing one lonely little watermelon, and since the latest cold weather kind of did away with the vine, mom cut the melon and whadya know? It was yummy!!

After-school snacks are pick-your-own!!

My boy is learning how to pick greens!

We are trying to settle into life, though I must admit it's a challenge. The back and forth of every-other-weekend visits are something we haven't had to tackle up until this point. It's an adjustment for me and the kids, but we are surrounded by love and of course, by God. So we are making our new home. Hope you enjoy the view!!

Disoriented

2008-11-20T07:45:00.002-06:00

OK, so I'm back home. Had an awesome time at the ABWA in Thibodaux. Loved it! As a matter of fact, I've joined my local ABWA here in downtown Lakeland. Pretty cool, huh?

I still miss New Orleans. And I'm still glad I'm here. It's such a strange disconnect. I sort of feel like I'm outside myself, watching and hoping things will turn out ok. It's such a bizarre feeling to be surrounded by the familiar and yet my life is so unfamiliar. Or at least myself is unfamiliar. I mean, I know what to do, and I see myself going through the motions, but I'm not sure my heart has caught up. I'm not sure where my heart is or who it is anymore. I think the term for this would be disoriented.

I've been going to sleep at like 8:30 at night. I don't know what to do with all this rest. I just got my tv and internet hooked up last night, so perhaps my early bedtimes have been due to boredom. But mostly, I'm really sleepy at that time. I put my kids to bed and then I go to bed, too, and still find myself wishing for an afternoon nap.

I'm hungry a lot too. Which sucks because I have 25 pounds to keep off. I've probably eaten more in the last 2 weeks than I did in the last month I lived in New Orleans.

Yup. I can read what I just wrote and recognize it. That damned old depression again. Not to fear, though. I knew this was coming and I am ready for it. I'm gonna buckle down with my old standby remedies, cuddle up with hope and wait for this to pass. And pass, it will.... eventually.

Remedy number one: Count the blessings. And so here are some blisses:

Kisses from my son
My daughter's gorgeous face, all pink from the cold
Orange juice I squeezed myself
Fun meetings at work
TV: Finally!! WITH DVR all to myself!!!!
Chili when it's cold
This weekend to myself
My nephew's celebratory phone call to tell me he shot his first deer!! Yeah, baby!!

Checkin in

2008-11-11T18:32:00.003-06:00

Just a quick post from God's other country, NEW ORLEANS! I'm back here doing a speaking engagement for the American Business Women's Association in Thibodeaux, LA.

Having an incredibly fun time also. How can a person's heart be in two places at once? It hurts, I'll tell ya that.

Signing off for now...

The Eagle Has Landed

2008-11-06T15:36:00.003-06:00

I'm HERE! I'm stumped about what to write. Where do I start? Mostly I'm still reeling from culture shock and the enormity of this adjustment. I wasn't prepared.

I've started work already, and it's going to be an adventure! I'm back in the office at Smith & Thomas Insurance with some of the best people there are. My actual duties are quite a change from what I've been up to at St. Francis Villa, so I'm getting used to that. I've already concluded that the insurance business could use some extra crazy, a little extra spice. New Orleans spoiled me, I guess. So I'm workin on that.

The family farm is coming right along. I'm adding my own personal touches. It's different living in my Granny's home, but now I'm the grown-up. I'm hoping it's the best of her and the best of me. You can see here how my Florida church family has already poured on the grace, and I'll post some pics of the finished product soon.

Ah, church. That's a whole new ball game too. For the first time in my life, I'm not a pianist, staff wife, Bible teacher, or leader of any kind in a church. Talk about culture shock. I hardly know what to do with myself. I'm not going to get all emotional and philosophical about it in this blog. That could very well cause me to need some type of hospitalization. This type of thing will have to unravel slowly.

Not to worry, though. All in all, I'm more than ok. As my friend Monica reminded me, God reigns in Florida too. And reign, He does, as always. What a comfort.

For now, I'll sign off with some Florida blisses and New Orleans misses:

Florida Blisses:
BABIES IN MY ARMS AGAIN.
GREENS for dinner, picked from my daddy's garden THAT DAY.
Yelling hello to my son while he is on mom's porch and I am on mine.
Lunch with my mom.
Dinner with my dad at his hunting camp. Yummy!
Church on a couch.
Loud rock music and painting while behaving in an unseemly manner, which is allowed since it was just me and Christy.
Oranges, of course.
Clean, no make that PRISTINE streets in downtown.

New Orleans misses:
A Certain Someone In Particular
MY FRAMILY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *tears*
Yelling hello to Alice while she is in her driveway and I am in mine.
Lunch made by Certain Someone.
Dinner at someplace awesome with my framily.
Church on the front pew.
Loud worship music played with the band while only slightly misbehaving during rehearsal.
Beignets, of course.
Dirty, no make that DISGUSTING streets in downtown. (I still love 'em.)

Here Goes...

2008-10-24T08:06:00.002-05:00

I'll be signing off for a few days as I change geographical locations.

This is the most bittersweet thing I've ever done in my life.

But there is packing to do and there are errands to run. I have to make myself do this.

By next Wednesday or so, I should be a Floridian again. At least for a while. But I'll still be a Louisianian as well, so that would, I suppose make me a Flori-Louisianian.

Anyway, I must stop wasting time and get to this terrible business.

But first, a few blisses:

A wild night out with the girls from work. (my first ever, maybe not that wild, but certainly mildly embarrassing.)
A framily that accepts me for who I am. No matter what. (thanks, Finches)
A fried green tomato and shrimp remoulade po-boy. With a Blue Moon. HEAVEN!!
Cooler weather
Pixie Stix
Lots of Hugs
Butterflies in my tummy...and my heart.

My life might be broken right now, but I'm still going to live it. AND love it.

See you in the Sunshine State.

Bring it On

2008-10-17T05:55:00.004-05:00

OK, I've wallowed enough. I mean, really. What kind of enjoyment is there in allowing oneself to stay focused on the misery? None, that's what.

So for some reason this morning, I've decided to endure the slicing in half of my heart while standing up, eyes open. I have no choice but to go through this. So bring it on.

Last night was my last band rehearsal, and Sunday will be my last services at Riverside. I nearly can't bear to type that. It looks dreadful on the screen, and feels even more terrible inside me. But what overwhelms me truly at this moment is gratitude to have experienced, FINALLY, the kind of family that a church should really be. At Riverside, my life has been changed, for the better, in a hundred ways. I will never be the same because of that church. And so, even though I'll be physically separated from my framily, they are coming with me in the difference they've made in me as a person and in my children. Most people do not enjoy the privilege of experiencing what I have experienced here. I've been loved and accepted in spite of embarrassing suffering. I've been taught and I've taught people. I've been helped and I've helped people. I've had my place in a group of believers, a real, live, active, working, living body of Christ. I've been needed and I needed them. Even though leaving here is nearly killing me, I'd go through this pain a hundred times to get to experience the love, the laughter, and the authentic Christ-following I've experienced here. That, my friends, WILL be carried to Florida with me and dumped all over whomever dares to hang around me. So even though it hurts, even though my heart is in pieces, I've experienced authentic love here, and it's well, well, well worth it.

I deeply, desperately hope that you get to experience the kind of love that hurts this bad. It's what life is about. The pain is merely evidence of love's authenticity. My framily matters to me, and I to them. Everything that happened in me here matters. Real love, real life-change, real learning and growing and interacting with God happened here. May none of you ever go through life without knowing that kind of treasure.

Wow, it's hard to pull out blissful things these days. But, here are a few blisses of the last few days of my life:
the most amazing steak I've ever eaten, ever.
black coffee with cinnamon scones
a trip to the zoo
LOTS of hugs
and good sleep.

Not Today

2008-10-16T06:46:00.002-05:00

I'm still livin'. Truth be told, I'm just bogged down in... well, everything. I'm grieving this move like you wouldn't believe. Trying to pack and get it all done, and trying to cram in as much living as possible in the middle of it all.

Too many goodbyes to say, too many things to remember, too many feelings to process. There is absolutely no way I can do this. Good thing I'm not alone.

Sorry, but that's about all I've got this morning. Perhaps something wonderful and profound will emerge eventually. Just not today.

Giving Up

2008-09-28T16:55:00.003-05:00

Today I tried. I tried to look for a higher purpose in all the stuff I'm going through. I tried to believe it'll all be worth it someday. I tried to tell myself that God will get glory through my situation, whatever THAT means. (Right now it just seems like a dumb churchy phrase that we say when we don't know any answers.)

I tried to help myself not feel so bad about leaving this city. I tried to help myself not feel so bad about still being here when my kids are already in Florida.

I tried to make myself believe that I will somehow get through all this. I tried to make myself believe that I'm still going to do something of value in this life.

I tried. But it didn't work.

Because right now I can't. I can't believe any of that, and even if I could... it's not enough. It doesn't stop the hurting.

I'll tell you what I know. I know that there may be NO reason I'm going through all this crap. I could very well be screwing up my life. I know I never anticipated this kind of pain in my heart, and I never anticipated wanting to give up on God.

BUT I also know this... I know He's with me. I know He's in me. I know He isn't scared of my unbelief, and He's plenty enough to make up for my weakness. I know He's never going to leave me, and that He loves me completely, and that He picked me for His own.

Beyond that, I got nothin.

Nothin but Jesus.

So He and I went shoe shopping. We also found some Calvin Klein jeans on sale. And a cute sweater. And we bought Irresistable Apple shower gel and lotion at Bath & Body Works to get us through until we get to Lakeland and Christy makes us something yummy-smelling to bathe in.

We had fun. We put down the pain for a while and it was just us. And I didn't have to understand, I didn't have to say anything at all. Just us. Giving up isn't so bad, I guess.

Now we're gonna go hang with some friends. See ya'll later.

Every doggie dies famous...

2008-09-24T22:24:00.003-05:00

Funny story:

Tonight after church I decided to go for a walk. I know walking alone in the dark isn't all that safe, but the delicious breeze was too much of a comfort to pass up. So I'm walking around my neighborhood and I hear this insane yelling. A man's voice, an angry man's voice is screaming out into the night. My heart starts pounding faster thinking "I knew I shouldn't be out here. Someone's about to get killed and I'll be a witness."

I pressed on anyway, and rounded the corner. I kept looking as I got closer to the screaming to see if it was 2 guys in a fight or a domestic situation or what. As I walked toward the ruckus, I began to be able to understand what the angry man was yelling.

"PRECIOUS! PREEEEEEEEEEEEEE CIOUS!!! PRECIOUS!!! PRECIOUS!"

Oh yes, you know it. I soon walked up on a grown man outside in his shorts and nothing else trying to catch the biggest, goofiest dog ever. Named Precious.

HAAAAA HA HA HA HAHA!!

Precious lumbered over to him slowly and he didn't let up. He let her have it all the way in the house. "Precious! You git back here! You got me out here makin' all kind of noise. Got me out here yellin'! You better git in here now!"

I went on with my walk, pretending I never saw or heard dog man yelling. But it was a great performance.

This leads me to two conclusions:

1) Rednecks are everywhere.
2) When one purchases a dog, one must accept the inevitability of standing outside in your underwear at night yelling for the dog. Name it something you wouldn't be embarrassed to scream at the top of your lungs. Mr. Wiggles probably wouldn't be a great choice. Neither would Armageddon.

Where did my day go?

2008-09-22T20:40:00.003-05:00

Wow, Monday! You got away from me! My favorite day of the week was so busy I didn't get to enjoy it as much as I usually do. I kicked off a new week today after an especially busy weekend, which probably added to the whirlwind.

Had an AWESOME time in DeFuniak Springs with the Women of Hope conference at Glendale Presbyterian Church. I love that place. I wish I could take it with me. There are some major things being done right at that place. I love it!!

Had a fun Sunday morning with my Riverside fam, and then a fun Sunday afternoon at St. Francis Villa's Ice Cream party, and then an even funner Sunday evening with my framily. (FUNNER IS THE ONLY WORD FOR IT) I love my framily.

Tonight I'm settling in and going to bed early. There are a million things I should be getting done, but tonight....

I ain't.

(Finch, the ain't was fer yew, m' friend.)

G'night.

Oh, wait! I have to celebrate some of today's beautiful things. Leftover giggles from last night, a haircut, dinner rolls with butter, phone calls, and passion tea from Starbucks.

Ok, now g'night.

Takin' it Home

2008-09-18T21:06:00.003-05:00

It's been quiet on the blogfront lately. The last days have been a little complicated, and a lot dramatic.

A decision has been made. It's one I've been wrestling with for a while and after many discussion, many tears, and some loud sobbing, I've come to a conclusion. In a few weeks I'll be moving to my hometown of Lakeland, FL. The kids and I will be living in my Grandmother's home, and they will be enjoying one of the most beautiful places in the world for kids to be raised.

There are layers and layers of complex feelings about this choice for me. I'm absolutely broken in two to be leaving my beloved Riverside Church. My Framily. The greatest pastor that ever was. In fact I'm fairly sure I am being torn apart since a large piece of my heart will always be here. Truthfully, a huge reason I've resisted this choice is that I wasn't sure my heart could stand another wound like this. I wasn't sure I could absorb another break right now. I still have no idea how I'll stand it.

I'm also ready. I think God's about to take it up a notch between Him and me. Seems funny, since I'll be stepping away from nearly all the stuff I do for Him. But that in itself, that stripping away of all the "stuff" all the activity that I engage in on His behalf, all the roles that define who I am in His kingdom... that will be a new level of intensity in my relationship with God. I won't be able to hide behind the stuff I do and the roles I play, and rely on those things to reassure me of who I am before God. I will have to discover who I am, really, without any roles whatsoever in the church. IS ANYONE ELSE FREAKING OUT ABOUT THAT???? WHAT DO GOOD CHRISTIAN GIRLS LOOK LIKE WITHOUT CHURCH JOBS??? DO I EVEN EXIST WITHOUT MINISTRY WORK????

Know what that means? That means me and God, acres of land, a front porch with rocking chairs, and hours to spend talking about.... hmmm... well, if we aren't talking about what songs are being played Sunday and what needs are in my small group, and what ministry event is coming up next, what rehearsal, what group meeting... then WHAT WILL WE SAY???? Does this mean that God might want to just sit with me a while? Does it mean He might rock me in one of those rocking chairs and just let me be? Does it mean He might make me wrestle some monsters? Does it mean I might have to let Him just love me for me... poor, crazy, unworthy me? Of course, I know He does love me for me, I think I believe that anyway. But it's easier said than lived out, especially when I've always had plenty of good "stuff" goin' on for God. You know, just in case He ever needed a reason to want me as His girl, I've always been busy making sure there were plenty of reasons. I know that in reality those reasons are filthy rags. But they still make me feel better. And now, with no more reasons, I'll have to fall completely on the grace of God and find out what it's like to be loved extravagantly, undeservedly, unreservedly, and I'll be utterly without ability to give anything in return. Which is where, in reality, I already am. However, right now I've got lots of nice distractions to help me avoid the conscious awareness of where I really stand.

I told you there were complex layers of feeling.

This is going to be an adventure.

If you're ready, I'm ready. Stay with me. We're about to take it home. We're about to look Grace in the face. I'm about to take some of the valuable things I've learned over the last few years and test them in a major way.

Feels like I'm at the top of a roller coaster ride and about to plummet down the steep incline. Oh well... my arms are in the air, I may be screamin my head off, but I'm ready to take this ride. Let's Go...

Train Track Philosophy

2008-09-06T10:06:00.003-05:00

In the middle of my life's chaos, I've decided to get a little philosophical. Call it twelve hours alone in a car with plenty of time to think, but I've been doing some wondering about the way I've chosen to live my life. It's true that my life is radically different than it was this time last year. And some of those differences cause me to question decisions I've made and ideas I've always taken for granted. One thing in particular is the "fishbowl" type lifestyle I've always had because of "who I was" in the church.

Someone very smart told me a little diddy that got my thoughts stirring even more. I'm telling it to you the way it was told to me:

"I'm not allowed to blow the whistle
Not allowed to drive the train
But let the bitch fall off the track
And watch who gets the blame."
(Advice courtesy of Very Smart Individual, original author unknown)

Hmmm... I realize this little quip probably came out of someone's frustration with some corporate heirarchy, or some type of situation like those we all find ourselves in, where we have little control and a lot of responsibility. But for me, it has some interesting implications.

Since I was very young, I've aspired to live not just a good life, but a great one. I still do. But somewhere along the way, I got the idea that "greatness" looked a certain way. I also bought the idea that greatness looked a whole lot like what church people interpret as greatness. In other words, I let the assumed rules and regs of the religion I was raised in begin directing my life's choices. For me as a ministry wife and a person who wants to do big stuff for God, too, those rules and regs are pretty intense.

A discussion with Very Smart Individual helped me see it a different way. Through the eyes of someone who has never put stock in the rules of my religion. It has a way of making me question what life choices I've made as a result of my true heart, my true passion, and what is really going on between God and me. It's left me wondering what choices I've made more out of others' expectations, or even my own expectations adopted for no other reason than to make myself look good to the people I wanted to or felt I had to impress.

Seems to me, especially now that most of my "status" or my identity within the church is very different, it's time to evaluate some things. Perhaps it's time to let go of pleasing people or progressing within a denomination. Perhaps it's time I didn't care as much about what other people think as I do about what God thinks. (He's been known to do some out-of-the-box things, ya know.) Perhaps it's time to reconsider who and what is driving my train, maybe even the track it's on.

These are slightly scary thoughts, but mostly I'm feeling total relief at the idea that I can make life choices based on a much simpler philosophy than ever before. Namely: Do what God puts in me to do, what He's built into me (some of that I may not have even considered yet because I've let other people tell me what it should be)... and that's it. No worrying about who gets the blame... it's always been me anyway. Might as well be driving this train for the right reasons.

Blisses

2008-09-04T20:58:00.002-05:00

OK, so I spent today driving from Lakeland to New Orleans. Unfortunately, minus my babies. They are remaining in Lakeland for a couple of weeks since electricity and some sewer situations are sketchy here. However, it's back to work for me.

So since there is no electricity at my home, I'm sleeping at work. Never a dull moment in my life. But, as always, there are many blisses. Here are a few:

*76 degree weather for at least half of my drive. Which I thoroughly enjoyed with the windows down, singing Reba McIntyre's "Fancy" at the top of my lungs. I know ALL the words. All the 4x4 truck drivers were impressed.
*The precious saint who cleaned the food out of my refrigerator. Absolutely NO stink in my house when I arrived. Thank you, whoever you are!!! Your heavenly crown is practically gaudy by now.
*The smell of pine. Real pine. Coming from the trees.
*Rock Star coffee drinks. Only 50 calories.
*Two, count 'em, TWO girls nights with my Christy!!

Gustav Schmustav

2008-09-01T19:45:00.002-05:00

Just a quick post letting you know I just got an image on my cell phone of my house, which looks to be in excellent shape. So there, Gustav!!

The kids and I are in Lakeland, Florida. Having a jolly old time visiting family and hanging out. We will be headed home sometime soon. Not exactly sure of our ETA.

For now, it's time to celebrate. Because frankly, my first trip to Lakeland since the dark days of last November and December, plus another potential storm disruption to my life, had me pretty much at the end of my mental and emotional rope. Still there.

But one small victory... my home is still in good shape. My framily is safe. So YAY! I can go on that for a while.