Short, Raw and Ugly

This will be short, raw and ugly. Read it only if you dare to NOT pass judgment.

I was in contact with a businessman who I knew. Strictly professional. I told him what was going on and that I was divorced and asked his advice about what I needed in his specialty.

After he gave the advice. He proceeded to ask me what I was looking for. He, a married man, was hitting on me! I told him I didn't know what he meant and he asked about looks and location. I mumbled something about not interested in anything for a very long time and hung up as quickly as possible.

It left me feeling dirty, pissed off and disappointed in all men in general.

I asked my receptionist the next morning, "Are all men pigs? Do they all cheat?" She said something that made me guffaw! It was, "All men are pigs. Some are just pigs in different ways."

My apologies to the few men who aren't.

THE ART OF SINGING IN THE SHOWER

The art of singing in the shower is a highly developed skill...but not just anybody can do it properly. Oh, you can try but there are some pretty important components that, if left out, leaves much to be desired in your endeavor.

This is what you need for the expert level:

• First and foremost, you MUST have an empty house. No other living soul can be there. (No, your dogs and cats are NOT living souls...so it's okay if they remain. It is NOT okay if they howl.)

• Next, you need to know your purpose for singing in the shower. Do you need to be inspired? Do you need to think? Do you need to cry? This will determine the genre that you sing.

• Make sure that your shower is stocked with what you need to complete your shower (face scrub, shampoo, conditioner, razor, body wash, scrubby thing...) The reason for this is that you must not have to interrupt your singing trance to think about where you put your shaving gel.

• Now, grab your music source. Now this is important, because you need to be able to press "play" and forget about it. In my case, I use my iPad. It is pre-loaded with my favorite songs. I have a specific playlist on it called: "Morning" (clever, huh?) 

• Choose your songs and make your playlist. This is, perhaps, the most important piece of this process. The songs must be easy to sing with (you don't HAVE to know the words - but it helps). My morning playlist has a variety of songs that lift my spirits - almost to the point of dancing in the shower (now THERE'S a visual...!!)

Those are all the supplies you need to produce pure joy in the morning and start your day off right!

Now,  your actual skill as a singer has NO bearing whatsoever on anything. There is nobody watching or listening. (Except I do wonder if my neighbor, Jeff, can hear me through the walls...but I choose not to care unless he complains....then I will tell him that my cousin is staying with me and she is weird....)

The key from here on out is to let loose! Remember, you are not performing for anyone...just singing for the pure JOY of it. Let it out! Go crazy....but don't slip in the shower.

"The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy." Psalm 65:8

LOVE WHO YOU LOVE

This message is for anyone who loves anybody.... Whether they are your Kids, Friends, Parents, Spouses....it is for you ALL.

Do you have kids? Do you love them? Then really love them! Don't make the same mistake that so many of us make and live impatiently for the next stage.

Oh, I begged God for children. I pounded my fists while lying face down on the floor ...promising to love. Did I love? You bet I did!

        ....but I missed so much of their very breath by my hurried impatience for them to learn this and accomplish that and act this way or say that...

"I should have stolen every moment
 Now there's a page with not enough on it
 Where we belong"

 While I enjoy the empty nest, I miss them so and I wonder why?

"I guess I'll never understand it

 Why do we take it all for granted
 Until it's gone?
 Cause then it's gone

 Love who you love
 With all that you have
 And don't waste the time that flies so fast"

 I have such a deep longing in my heart for those I love and don't have nearby anymore. If I had do-overs I would:

 "Give all ya' got like it's your last day
  Your heart and soul before it's too late
  And pull 'em in

  So close enough that they can feel it
  With every single breath that you're breathin'
  Breathe it in again and again"

I have been reflecting A LOT in the past few days....

                             Since I heard this song by Rascal Flatts - please listen with your eyes closed        

                                             and determine to love who you love.....

I should have stolen every moment
Now there's a page with not enough on it
Where we belong
I guess I'll never understand it

Why do we take it all for granted
Until it's gone?
Cause then it's gone

Love who you love
With all that you have
And don't waste the time that flies so fast

Love who you love
And say that you do
Hold on as tight as they'll let you
Love who you love

Give all ya' got like it's your last day
Your heart and soul before it's too late
And pull 'em in

So close enough that they can feel it
With every single breath that you're breathin'
Breathe it in again and again

Love who you love
With all that you have
And don't waste the time that flies so fast

Love who you love
And say that you do
Hold on as tight as they'll let you

Hold on, hold on
Love who you love
Say that you do
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Love who you love
With all that you have
And don't waste the time that flies so fast

Love who you love
And say that you do
Hold on as tight as they'll let you

Love who you love
Yeah, yeah
Love who you love
Yeah, yeah

Hold on, keep on holding on
Yeah, yeah
With every single breath you're breathing

Love who you love
Love who you love
Again and again and again and again

People used to tell me to "Enjoy my kids because it goes so fast." I believed them, but what I didn't know is that LIFE went too fast and so far down the road now, I wish I could feel their chubby little arms around my neck....

Just one more time.........

RUNNING THE RACE

It occurred to me while walking/running the last couple of mornings - 

So here is how I roll: I start out with a route and a goal in mind. Now if you have ever done anything with me, you may have noticed that I don't pull out of the driveway unless I know 

"the plan." 

I have never meandered well. Not that there's anything wrong with meandering...it's just not my style. Give me a goal, I will find it on the map and I will get there in the most efficient way possible!

....but what have I missed by reading the road map so very carefully? 

                            

                               I guess I don't really know....

                                                                           ....because I missed it.

When I run, I lock my eyes on a goal and determine to reach that spot and then slow to a walk for a bit. I noticed in running that I concentrate on two things, the goal and my feet. As I approach the goal, I decide I can make it just a bit further, so I put on foot in front of the other, find another goal, and do it again. What have I seen along the way? Not a thing....just the goal.

In slowing down to walk and catch my breath, I saw a mother bird carrying a long piece of wild grass in her beak headed to her goal: nest building. 

I noticed a gorgeous butterfly bush that I had never seen - I love butterfly bushes and wondered why I hadn't seen it on this regular trail I take. The answer was clear - I was looking past it, to my goal.

Walking past a rundown yard, I spied an old kids swingset lying on its side and my mind wandered as I began the invent the story in my mind, of the children who used to play on it. I imagine the goal for those children was sheer joy!

Shite in the path......

So, I was going to leave it at that and lament that I haven't stopped to breathe in life enough.... but today as I was running I was trying to see if I could run AND look at the same time. I rushed past a type of cactus that was blooming, but didn't get a good look or have time to wonder about it, I heard a very interesting whistle from a bird, but it was forgotten as fast as I heard it. I also tried to turn around and look behind me and almost wiped out.  

So, while I slowed to a walk and wondered at God's beauty,  and I turned around to look at the 5:30 sunrise.... I almost stepped in it.... a big, fresh pile of dog shite (that's British for the nasty word...)

When my children were small, I would tell them that when I said STOP - I wanted them to stop dead in their tracks. I did NOT count. Why? Because they may be playing and having a great time, but I saw the Mac truck down the road and if I counted to three, while giving them a chance to stop, they may get hit. 

You see, they were enjoying their little world full of wonder - and I loved that. But I was scanning their paths for "bumps."

Part of the looking towards the goal is also looking for bumps or things in the path that may cause me to stumble. In my "run toward the goal" mode, I scan the path for dog and horse shite, gum, glass, and people walking their dogs. I am able to gauge my run to avoid the things that will slow or trip me and clear out of the path of an oncoming dog or horse.

You could say I have a wider perspective.

Sure, I still need to look at the small radius that is around me...but I guess a balance is what works the best. 

So, I will be thankful for my own personality and appreciate the diversity in which God created us all.

A scripture I recently discovered is in Galatians 5. It says, "You were running a good race. Who cut in on you to keep you from obeying the truth?" What it said to me is that I was doing okay until I started listening to other people telling me I should be like them. So now, I say to them...

"Leave me alone....I am running a race."

BRAND NEW ENDING

I suppose I should write something mother-ish on Mother's Day, but if you don't mind - I'm not feeling very much like that. So if you want to keep reading, you will have to indulge me.

A friend sent this to me, and I love it:

"No one can go back and make a brand new start, but anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending."

I keep hearing people say to me that I am starting over.

The truth is, I had a great beginning. My beginning was marked with so much joy, the highest of hopes and a mountain of dreams... and I am reluctant to chuck it out. The joy of constructing this big family, raising my five children and loving and being loved by so many is just too much to throw away just to start over.

Instead of a new beginning, I am going to have a

BRAND NEW ENDING.

I'm not sure what it is going to be about, but I never read the last chapter of a book first anyway.  I have had my last chapter written since I was a little girl. Grow up, get married, have babies and live happily ever after. I did all of that and I am going to

Live happily ever after...

Just not in the way I thought it was going to be.

You see, God also has my last chapter written and it isn't what I had written for myself or planned.... but better...much better. I guess I will give the author of my life the credit for writing that last chapter that I will not even TRY to edit!

I ran across a song that goes along with some of the LETTING GO stuff I have been posting. I am pasting the lyrics and highlighting the particularly meaningful ones.

Listen to this song sung by Carrie Underwood:

I was sitting on my doorstep,
I hung up the phone and it fell out of my hand,
But I knew I had to do it,
And he wouldn't understand,
So hard to see myself without him,
I felt a piece of my heart break,
But 

when you're standing at a crossroad,
There's a choice you gotta make.

I guess it's gonna have to hurt,
I guess I'm gonna have to cry,
And let go of some things I've loved,
To get to the other side,

I guess it's gonna break me down,
Like falling when you try to fly,

It's sad, but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life, 

Starts with goodbye.

I know there's a blue horizon,
Somewhere up ahead, just waiting for me,

Getting there means leaving things behind,
Sometimes life's so bitter sweet.

I guess it's gonna have to hurt,
I guess I'm gonna have to cry,
And let go of some things I've loved,
To get to the other side,
I guess it's gonna break me down,
Like falling when you try to fly,
It's sad, but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life,
Starts with goodbye.

Time heals,
The wounds that you feel,
Somehow, right now.

I guess it's gonna have to hurt,
I guess I'm gonna have to cry,
And let go of some things I've loved,
To get to the other side,
I guess it's gonna break me down,
Like falling when you try to fly,
It's sad, but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life,
Starts with goodbye,

I guess I'm gonna have to cry,
And let go of some things I've loved,
To get to the other side,
Starts with goodbye,
The only way you try to find,
Moving on with the rest of your life,
Starts with goodbye.

So I say goodbye to my own ending and look forward to reading the end of the book that was written by the author of my life.

IT COULD BE THE WINE...

Why can't I stop?  I have not been able to stem the tide of my tears today. They sneak upon me when I least expect it.

What are they from?

It could be the wine...

But the wine softens my hard shell and makes me wonder....

Will the children that I pounded my fists and begged God for ever love Him as much as I do? Will they ever have dreams of living for God?

Will my shattered heart ever be mended?

Will God love me again? 

Does God really have a purpose for my broken dreams?

Is it because this is my first Mother's Day as an orphan? Ever since my dad died in 2004, I dreaded the death of my mother. Of course, there were many reasons why, but the most looming reason was that I, as an orphan, would be left without a parent to pray for me.

But scripture says that Jesus makes intercession for us to the Father. That should be comforting.

While I don't miss my mom in many ways, I miss the historical fact that she was always there to pray - day or night.... and she did.

So, it's just a stray thought along with a river running down my face tonight.

Wondering....

naked humility

I keep thinking of this phrase: Naked Humility - I'm not sure why, but as I write this blog, I hope to discover it.

I looked up the definition of "naked" in Merriam Webster's dictionary:

: not covered by clothing : nude
: devoid of customary or natural covering : bare
: not provided with a shade
: lacking foliage or vegetation
: lacking an external covering (as of hair, feathers, or shell)
: scantily supplied or furnished
: lacking embellishment
: unadorned
: unarmed, defenseless
: lacking confirmation or support
: devoid of concealment or disguise
: unaided by any optical device or instrument
: not backed by the writer's ownership of the commodity contract or security

Not sure I am even going to get through this one this morning.... because as I am reading this, my tears are flowing.... really flowing.... and I didn't expect it.

For many years in my adult life I had a recurring dream and I never knew what it was all about. In writing this, I am starting to get an idea of what that possibly meant. I think it was prophetic.

My dream was that I was walking into church with a smile and I was naked. Upon walking in, I felt innocently happy to be there and didn't think anything about it...until people started looking at me. At which time I became embarrassingly conscious of my unclothed body. As I would try to cover one area, another area was exposed. In my dreams I worked very hard at covering the parts of my body because all of a sudden, I was very conscious of the church people looking
....staring
....judging.

The dream always just ended. There was no resolve...just faded out.

Just this moment, I am getting a clearer picture of this, because in recent months and years I have been experiencing the stares of the church people at my

NAKED HUMILITY.

It may help to know that my ENTIRE life, up until now, my home has been a fish bowl. Simply put, because of the positions of my father and husband, I was viewable from every angle. It didn't bother me so much but now I see some of the drawbacks of not having any "clothes" on.

As I allowed myself to be viewed from every angle in my perfect little fishbowl world, I also allowed the criticisms and "loving" suggestions into my life. In my world, I thought I had control over it. I fooled myself for a very, very long time thinking my life was private and no one could see my undone-ness.

So now I have come to a place in my life where I am humanly: unarmed, defenseless, lacking confirmation or support, devoid of concealment or disguise, not backed by the writer's ownership of the commodity contract or security.

and I am

HUMBLED AND UNCOVERED.

LETTING GO

Maybe everyone's life is a series of letting go...but it seems like it is my life that has had to let go of its fair share. But then...I do tend to feel sorry for myself on occasion.

The recent letting go of my big happy family table got me to thinking of this. As I revisit these things, I will undoubtedly cry, but I am no stranger to tears in recent years.

Things

 

They are just things aren't they? I mean...it shouldn't be hard to let go of an inanimate object..right? Oh, yes, but so many emotions are attached to things. Even attitudes about those things.

Take my vintage baby buggy for instance.

Nobody knows how precious this was to me. It wasn't the actual perambulator that was precious, but the memories... I got it when my first baby was born. I remember pushing Ali in it to the grocery store and loading the groceries and the baby and feeling on top of the world.

When baby #2 came along, I could put them both in there and go wherever I wanted. Some of my friends may remember seeing me push this buggy up the hill to church! It was so rugged and sturdy that at times, I pushed all three babies in it!

When babies were grown, I envisioned putting antique things in it and one day, when my children had children, I would push them in it....or my kids would beg me to let them have it and then they would have the happy memories.

Why didn't that happen? Because I was the one with the emotions and happy memories attached to it, not them.

As we moved a million times, my vision faded, and my vigilance to keep my buggy became just too much. My family was pushing me to get rid of it and I doggedly hung onto what was in my mind. After suffering through many battles to keep it, I let it go. I gave it to someone who really wanted it and hoped she will have happy memories with it.

It was very hard, but freeing.

Bigger things... 

 

About 12 or so years ago, I lived in a home. A home with the happiest of memories. A home where I raised 5 children, 1 husband, 3 dogs, 3 cats, 1 sheep named Maybell, 1 hamster, 1 goldfish, six or more ponies, 2 goats, 2 chickens, gophers, snakes and mice, and countless random friends of mine and my children. 

I made more chocolate chip cookies in that house than I can count...always having some handy for a stray teenage friend of one of my kids.

It is where we decided to adopt our girls and then brought them home to this happy house. It is where I homeschooled some of my children. It was birthday party central. It was where my kids decided to have a carnival to welcome the summer. We must have had over 50 kids and parents there that day.

It was where, when Peter begged me for a horse, he found that Vern the Pony man, would let him take care of his ponies in our big yard. 

We saw so many answers to prayer and so much heartache right there in that big, wonderful, happy home.

Perhaps one of the hardest things for me to let go of was my garden. I would work countless hours in my garden. The kids would wander out around 6 pm and ask if there was going to be anything for dinner or was it a "Root, hog or die" night....and it was usually the latter.

On several occasions, while alone in my garden, with a contented feeling beyond description... I heard the Lord. Yes, I did. 

He said to me, 

"Are you willing to give this all up?"

Hoping it was a trick question or that he was just checking, I said aloud, "Of course I am willing! You KNOW I am willing...." And, of course, I meant it.

I would forget about the short conversation and it happened a couple more times. It actually started making me nervous because, I thought I may actually have to give it up, but was hoping beyond hope that he was just checking up and I hoped I had given the right answer!

To this day, I still have tears of sadness as I remember...  Not only did I have to give it up, but it took something from me when we left our happy family home. I left something there, something that didn't fit in the U-Haul.

So, you see, I am becoming quite adept at letting go. The big happy table that I sold the other day, is nothing compared to the pieces of my heart that I have had to let go of in recent years.

Today, I am going to go into my extra room and dig through some of the antique children's books that I so lovingly collected over the years, and decide which ones to let go.

MISUNDERSTOOD

One of the things that I learned about myself through attending Lifeskills International Classes is that I have been often misunderstood throughout my life.

By that I mean that my motivation is not always clear when I say or do something. As a child, when something I did or said was misunderstood, I just clammed up and got embarrassed and was so surprised that I didn't even know how to try to make someone understand. As time went on, I simply let "them" think whatever they wanted and figured that my feelings about the situation didn't matter.

What happened to my emotions were that they were slowly being sealed up. As time went on, I just figured my feelings did not matter and stuck them on the back burner.

One of my most memorable misunderstandings was in 2nd grade...when President John F. Kennedy was shot and we got the tragic news in the middle of our school day.

It's hard to explain my thinking that day, but imagine the logic part of my 7 year old brain being fully developed (I'm sure it wasn't, but my thought process is still quite clear to me....)

So, Mrs. Stewart gets up in front of the classroom and between sobs, announces that our president has been assassinated. The whole class starts crying....all but me. In my mind, as I looked around I thought, "Why are they all crying?! They are only in 2nd grade! They probably don't even know what a president is!"

I remember thinking that the second graders were too young to understand this or anything else political. [I REALLY did think that!]  But my big mistake was to start quietly laughing at the whole idea of the kids crying over something they had no understanding of...

Since Mrs. Stewart could not see inside my head (and at this point it would not have mattered) .... she was NOT amused. She bawled me out in front of the whole class because she thought I was laughing at the president being shot. I had no answer to her because how does a child explain a thought process? I was quietly mortified.

Misunderstood.

When I was about 10 years old, our family was having our devotion time together and my dad was reading some scripture about John leaping in his mother's womb. In my mind, as I was picturing it...it was a funny scene and I commented on the scene in my head, but nobody thought it was funny. I got summarily scolded in front of the whole family and was embarrassed and froze up rather than being able to explain.

Misunderstood.

There have been so many things, even throughout my adult life, that have been misunderstood by others. For awhile I tried to defend my reasons for doing or saying what I did, but mostly I just stayed quiet.

I am at a place in my life right this moment, where there are many people who are misunderstanding me. They don't understand why or how a marriage of 36 years could fall apart so quickly. They aren't in my head nor have they walked in my shoes. It has not been quick and it has not been easy. I am just....

Misunderstood.

I have become more and more okay with the uninformed judgments of others....even some of who I thought were my good friends. I don't love it, but I have no choice. To try to explain everything would hurt others, so I just quietly feel misunderstood. I know in my head and my heart that my thinking is not so flawed after all and I am still that second grade girl wishing she had kept her emotions inside so she would not have had to suffer the judgment of Mrs. Stewart.

The Happy Table

I never thought it would be so hard to let go of THINGS... but I found out today that it can be quite bittersweet.

I just sold the dining table that we bought when our babies were small. It was a large, friendly table full of happy memories from family dinners to Thanksgiving for 20! It was host to birthday parties and Graduation celebrations. Some of my children did their homework on it and some their homeschool work on it.

I remember when it was "mission central" - when, in 4th grade Andy had to do his California Mission project (as ALL 4th graders in the state must.) All of the supplies were laid out and Andy was giving directions to the whole family.... when all of a sudden, we all realized at once that WE were making his mission for him while he was just talking about it! We had a good laugh, but finished it and it was the best darn mission around!

I can remember when Ali always had her friends over. We were "the house" and I was "the mom" - her friends would come over (even if she wasn't there) and I would pour them a big glass of milk and set a plate of chocolate chip cookies out and they would eat and tell me their stories at that table. I loved that.

One Christmas, Peter put out some cookies and milk on that table, for Santa, with a note....just in case. I ate the cookies and hid the note in the nearby desk drawer. Some months later, when Peter was rifling through the desk to find something, he discovered the note that he thought Santa had taken.... he asked me why I had it and Santa didn't...I made up something about asking Santa to send it back to me so I could put it in Peter's memory box. Whew! He bought it and I did put it in his memory box!

That table has seen many crafts and sewing projects! All of the kids had chicken pox together, so during their long time at home we made sock puppets and did puppet shows! I think I have it on videotape.

Oh, the memories. I often wonder if all of the words spoken and all of the laughter and all of the love poured out at that table could have somehow been absorbed into the very character of the table - maybe....just maybe, the next family can enjoy it and pour their memories into it.

I hope so.