Wanna See My Uterus?

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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!!!

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

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

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

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!!!

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

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.

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'

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

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

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?

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?

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

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!!!