September 11. September 11. September 11. No matter the year, those two words conjure powerful images and memories. I still weep for the losses that happened that day and am thankful when I hear a story of how someone's life was touched or changed that day. I am thankful for those who tell their stories for it reminds me that it is good to continue to tell my own. The resilience of the human race enthralls me, but ugh....the part where your story is being written can be so hard.
I was sitting at the kitchen table this morning, soaking in my private pity party and reading my Jesus Calling in hopes of livening my spirits. John walks in and comments that today is September 11. I concurred and then John stated that he was only 13 days old when the World Trade Center bombings occurred. Like the rest of America, I remember that day well. It just feels like a heavy day. September 11.
Today, two big things happened in our household....
Stella Pearl attended her very first Girl Scout meeting. For two years, she has wanted to be a Girl Scout and this is the first year that there was an opening in a troop at her school. She had to go to her troop meeting in a classroom immediately after school. I gave her the room number this morning and then trusted she would get herself there after the bell rang. (I trusted she could do this without my aiding. Big deal for me!} She did get there and she had a fabulous time.
John Bradley left for Jenks Wild today. This is an environmental learning camp the sixth graders get to do at New Life Ranch. Awesome! He was so excited and I wish him a wonderful time but he won't be calling us for TWO days. This is a big deal for me. An even bigger deal that I let them both go off on their own and I was truly happy for their experiences.
I sent John off with the following note in his duffel bag. I hope he isn't embarrassed, I really do. Even if he is, it's okay!
"Dear John,
In the kitchen we just discussed that you were only 13 days old when the World Trade Center bombings happened. What we did not discuss is that during that time, Daddy was constantly traveling with his job (on airplanes) and he was out of town when this happened. I was up snuggling you (because you were my beautiful baby boy and I rarely put you down) - I was doing this when I saw on t.v. a clip of the first plane crashing into the building. I thought it was some crazy movie I didn't want to watch...but it was on every channel. I called Nana and as we heard the news, we just cried and cried. Nana came over and we hugged and cried some more. I was thinking to myself..."How did I bring this perfect child into this scary world?" Nana and I took turns holding you tighter and loving you more. I have learned every day to give you to God and to thank him for the gift of you. You are too amazing to be held tightly in my grasp! So today, I do a different kind of letting go as you go on your first sleep away camp - Have a super blast and enjoy every moment! I love you.
xoxo,
Momma"
Life is just a little of letting go every day, isn't it? I HATE letting go. I HATE it because I never know exactly what the outcome is going to be. But when I do loosen that grip just a wee bit....well, when I do.....when I do.....I can't wait to see what God does with that. Just praying that I trust his love is better and stronger and kinder than my 'magic wand' that I seem to have lost.
And finally...just for humor's sake (because 'studies show that laughter is healing')....Tonight I could not wait to bathe my blues away in a bubble bath. I just got settled in, the water temperature was perfect. I even had a pumpkin spice latte and a great book with me. Stella Pearl walks right in and says, "Hi Momma". I say Hi and then I tell her that I am having some quiet time and I'll be out in a few minutes. She says she'll go but could I just play a game of 'Would You Rather?" with her one time? (big brown eyes pleading) I agree to one time. And it went like this...
Stella: Would you rather have the dreamiest bubble bath with a pumpkin spice latte, a book, big bubbles and maybe even a massage or would you rather have your one and only Stella Pearl sitting with you playing "Would You Rather?", so that you will not be lonely?
Me: I'll let you the reader conclude on your own what my response was....helpful hint....
I know now that my baby girl would rather ride a unicorn through the sky than slide off of a rainbow into clouds. (It sounds fun but when you land on the cloud you'd just fall right through to earth bc the cloud is made of water.) That's it sister, stay real!
Be blessed.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Here I am
Why do I write? I have written all my life...journals, letters, emails, texts, lunch box lovies (as my kids call them), post it notes, blogging, network media, anything I can use to convey my heart with written linguistics. Writing is my chosen form of communication. It is where I feel safely self assured and where I find rhythm. It is the most natural way for me to share my heart. In my writing I do not shrink down as I tend to do in person. I may even stand bolder than I would in person. Bolder in that if your perception of my written word is disapproval or rejection, I do not have to look you in the face to see that- not bolder as in I have permission to speak ugliness over you in my writing and say things I would never say to your person.
I have not kept my garden well since my Granny became ill. The leaves of my beautiful plants were wilted, turning brown and the fruits were shriveling and mushy. When I noticed, I was heartbroken. I LOVE my garden. It is where I meet God each morning and where I get to fill my cup nurturing and watching something I love grow....and they never talk back to me! I get to talk to God and enjoy the gift of nature he bestowed on us. I began to water my suffering plants a little extra and feed them some wonderful nutrients....and of course I spent time talking to each plant and saying a little prayer for it. (remember, it's my quiet time with God most mornings so there aren't really any onlookers to question who I am speaking to). After about a week of extra tlc, my garden is coming back - healthy green foliage, lovely fruits, etc. A few plants did not make it through - their season was over and I had to prune them from the garden. It sounds silly, but every time I have to pull a plant I feel just a little sad. I wonder what I could've done to make it live longer and even when I know there was nothing, I grieve for it for a moment when I throw it over the fence. The cool thing is that every time I give up a plant that is not healthy, the plants that remain take that energy that the sick plants were using and they grow stronger, greener, fruitier.
I spent 30 days on writing ways in which I was kind to myself. I learned that I must be kinder to myself, consistently. I learned that much like I did in my garden, the minute things get overwhelming, I stop taking care of myself and the things I love. I don't write. I don't play in the garden. I don't pray regularly and I don't nurture my healthy habits. And much like my plants, my spirit begins to wilt, and the gifts I have are not distributed because I have become disconnected from my roots...my God.
And now here I am writing for 30 days on vulnerability. That is what brought me to the question....why do I write? Someday I'd love to write and publish a book that touches hearts and changes lives. I've got to start somewhere so I blog, I post, I journal. I want to write with the open heart and sincere heart I have and I pray my writing brings healing not only to myself, but to someone else who is seeking a life of authenticity. If they aren't seeking a life of authenticity and vulnerability makes them uncomfortable, I hope my sharing helps them embrace that discomfort and find what their hearts seek.
That said, I do not only write about a life I hope to life. I mean, I do write my hopes and dreams but I also share my struggles, my joys...my story. (which is still being written). I am a real person. I am not a fictional character. If it ever happens that you read something I have written and you want to visit on the phone, over email, or face to face (my favorite), please let me know. My heart grows from sharing in real life and from hearing your story too. I love how all of our stories entertwine - I think God is the best networker ever.
Sweet dreams cherished ones.
I have not kept my garden well since my Granny became ill. The leaves of my beautiful plants were wilted, turning brown and the fruits were shriveling and mushy. When I noticed, I was heartbroken. I LOVE my garden. It is where I meet God each morning and where I get to fill my cup nurturing and watching something I love grow....and they never talk back to me! I get to talk to God and enjoy the gift of nature he bestowed on us. I began to water my suffering plants a little extra and feed them some wonderful nutrients....and of course I spent time talking to each plant and saying a little prayer for it. (remember, it's my quiet time with God most mornings so there aren't really any onlookers to question who I am speaking to). After about a week of extra tlc, my garden is coming back - healthy green foliage, lovely fruits, etc. A few plants did not make it through - their season was over and I had to prune them from the garden. It sounds silly, but every time I have to pull a plant I feel just a little sad. I wonder what I could've done to make it live longer and even when I know there was nothing, I grieve for it for a moment when I throw it over the fence. The cool thing is that every time I give up a plant that is not healthy, the plants that remain take that energy that the sick plants were using and they grow stronger, greener, fruitier.
I spent 30 days on writing ways in which I was kind to myself. I learned that I must be kinder to myself, consistently. I learned that much like I did in my garden, the minute things get overwhelming, I stop taking care of myself and the things I love. I don't write. I don't play in the garden. I don't pray regularly and I don't nurture my healthy habits. And much like my plants, my spirit begins to wilt, and the gifts I have are not distributed because I have become disconnected from my roots...my God.
And now here I am writing for 30 days on vulnerability. That is what brought me to the question....why do I write? Someday I'd love to write and publish a book that touches hearts and changes lives. I've got to start somewhere so I blog, I post, I journal. I want to write with the open heart and sincere heart I have and I pray my writing brings healing not only to myself, but to someone else who is seeking a life of authenticity. If they aren't seeking a life of authenticity and vulnerability makes them uncomfortable, I hope my sharing helps them embrace that discomfort and find what their hearts seek.
That said, I do not only write about a life I hope to life. I mean, I do write my hopes and dreams but I also share my struggles, my joys...my story. (which is still being written). I am a real person. I am not a fictional character. If it ever happens that you read something I have written and you want to visit on the phone, over email, or face to face (my favorite), please let me know. My heart grows from sharing in real life and from hearing your story too. I love how all of our stories entertwine - I think God is the best networker ever.
Sweet dreams cherished ones.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Well....bless my heart
I titled this post 'Well, bless my heart' because I hear that's the appropriate southern girl thing to say to someone when there are no words, so to save anyone the trouble I just say it to myself. :) Since this is me Sarah, there are always words - they may not be beautiful but there are definately words. I have been working on a '30 days of kindness to myself' project on facebook and I'm not sure why, but I am fairly certain God has planted this idea in my heart. I can't wait to see where it goes and what comes of it. In addition to that, I have been journaling often. Writing is a soothing balm to my soul even though sometimes it makes me deal honestly with some of the hardest crap I otherwise manage to avoid or push away. It's in my heart to write and to share. I'd be honored if you would join me in prayer about helping that come to fruition in a bigger way.
I am under gobs of stress right now, if you have seen any of my previous posts you probably know that. A summary...my Daddy's mind is being stolen from him by his Alzheimers. It is a mean disease. My precious Granny is in an extraordinary hospice and in the process of dying. (she is 98). I am so sad for my Momma because your Momma is your Momma no matter the age and she is experiencing great loss all around her. We are very close to heading into arbitration with a business we have had great trouble with and my sweet husband is having a really rough time...which equates to our marriage having a tough time.
I am up and then I am down and somedays I am spinning round and round. I have had some gut wrenching, horribly painful, disgustingly ugly freak out moments and I'm sure there are more lurking in here. What I also have had are some of the most comforting God kisses and moments of being held by Him than I have ever felt. Ever. I have been surrounded by encouragement, wisdom, love, hard questions, truth, hugs and sharing. When I get caught up in the 'what if's', as I often do...I am reminding myself of the 'Who is'. When my heart is empty and I am an afraid little girl, I have cried out for God to fill me up and I have been overcome with His presence and glory. I am doing more than surviving, I am living. In some ways I feel my feet have been knocked out from under me and in some ways I am seeing more clearly who I am, how I am to be treated and how deeply I am loved. My mantra....I have to feel the pain to truly feel the joy.
I don't write big details about my Daddy out of respect for he and my Momma. I feel he deserves to be treated with dignity and respect. I have many funny stories, and some not so funny that I journal about and hope to share one day when the time is right. Today, I want to share about part of a day (today) spent with my Daddy. My Momma is sitting with my Granny, and I'm thankful she can be there. I am thankful that I got to take off work and be here. It's been a really good day for him today. Thankful for every good moment.
I have always known my Daddy loves me. I needed tires, gas, money, a big hug and to feel pretty, he's always been my biggest fan. In that way I have been his little princess. In the way of conversations we rarely shared anything on a deep, emotional level. I think that's part the generation he grew up in and in part how he was raised. But....I always knew he loved me the best way he knows how and I know he is the very best earthly Daddy for me. As a result of all of this, during this crappy Alzheimers progression, I feel closer to my Dad than I ever have. I am honored to hold his hand, hear his sweet heart (and sometimes his angry words), listen to him voice in the way he can how scary this disease is, and have him love my children generously and joke with them in childlike innocence. Their are gifts here, even in this blech disease. I also get to know my siblings on a whole new level as we band together to care for the what is and that too is an awesome gift. That was a little background....
This morning, we went to the grocery store. My Dad shuffled through, holding my hand the entire time as he helped me shop and remarked several times how amazing and big this store is. He wanted me to buy peanut butter because he said he's always wanted to try it but never has. (I don't think this is true but I certainly got the peanut butter...just in case). After that, we went to the park to enjoy the glorious weather and feed the ducks. We conversed with a Grandma and her two 4 year old grandchildren....they are preparing for pre k. I was struck by the similarities in growing up and in growing away...young and old....new doors to walk through in those stages and in between. We took a walk around the trail but stopped to read every dedication sign under every tree we could find and we checked out every dog and owner we could. When we were done, we stopped at Starbucks despite Dad saying repeatedly he wasn't thirsty (he was hot and I felt he needed a drink). I got him an iced green tea and after one sip, he said it tasted like Heaven.
We came home, put the groceries away and ate some eggplant parmigiana that I made with my garden eggplant. It was so yummy, but the cool thing is that my Dad thinks all the food I cook his yummy. (As a matter of fact, as I type, Dad is eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (his first, of course) for a snack and he is quite impressed with my cooking abilities once more!) As we ate lunch, I saw the familiar lost look flash across his eyes. He was just telling me how this ('what's this thing he has?' 'demenita'. 'oh yea') thing is so strange because one minute he is clear as day and the next minute everything is different and he doesn't know what is going on. Anyway, he started telling me how lucky he and his wife were because they had really great kids and 31 grandkids! We discussed his navy days and how he was an aircraft carrier on the USS Bennington (CVA 20). He talked about the home he grew up in and his school days. He recalls these items with intricate detail. And then he tells me I look familiar, like my eyes are like his eyes....but he can't quite place me. Then he tells me about his daughter Sarah....and my heart was so touched that I had to share.
His story..."Sarah is a peach. (I laugh because my husband always called me peaches in our early days). Sarah is married to Nate. I used to not think much of him but I sure do like him. He's good to my Sarah and he's smart, intelligent - he's even adding onto their house. You should see the floor he has put in. They have two kids. The boy, John, he's little but he's strong. He plays ball. The girl - Stella, she's just like her Momma and looks like her too. Sarah works at some organization where she helps the less fortunate, she does a whole lot of good to a whole bunch of somebodies. And then Nathan, he kind of does the same thing but he works for that school in Dallas (how my Dad refers to Pathways). My Mother loved Sarah dearly. It's my impression that they (Nate and Sarah) both work their rears off to help others. (Again, he stops to tell me how familiar I look and asks my name. I tell him Sarah-he continues with the conversation). I just have nothing but praise for them. (I stand to gather his dish and he stops to tell me I look a little younger when I'm standing). That Sarah, she'll do anything for you...we went to the grocery store today and she bought a box of groceries 10 feet wide, she's an excellent cook and she took me to feed the ducks and the catfish. You need to get ahold of her work because every time I talk to them they have nothing but praise for her. I'll tell you this...everybody who meets Sarah likes her and everyone who knows her loves her."
Can I tell you what this conversation did for my heart? Great medicine. I have to sign off now, my Dad needs me to help him call his kids....maybe I could get ahold of Sarah?
Monday, July 22, 2013
Shame
I am realizing more and more how big of a role shame plays in my life. I am writing often in my personal journal and I am compiling those writings into what I someday pray is a book. Then I will share the story of my A to B....until then, there are some things I feel compelled to share because they are so heavy on my heart.
Life is hard, we all know that. I am battling right now to learn to love myself, and I have blogged about that very topic recently. I decided on a whim yesterday (more of a Holy Spirit whim I believe) to gift myself with 30 days of being kind to myself. Life is out of control and as always, I'm not in control of life. I am however, the manager of my life and I do have choices to make beauty out of the hands dealt.
My nice thing to myself yesterday (day one) was to pick fresh veggies and herbs from my garden. We had ripe red tomatoes, beautiful white Casper eggplants and narrow Ping ting lang (or something) purple eggplants; there were green bell peppers, and red sweet peppers. After photographing the gorgeous colors, I chopped, chopped, chopped my worries away. John came into the kitchen and asked to help. He has a big relator heart and likes to do things side by side, though as he enters pre adolescence he becomes too cool to join in these activities at times. That said, I was thrilled to have his sweet presence in that moment. I added an onion and fresh garlic and John opened cans of tomato sauce. I watched him sauté the veggies in a bit of olive oil and then I let him pour the hot veggies into the tomato sauce. Lastly, I went out into the pouring rain just to pick fresh basil, thyme and oregano. I am glad I did, if only to see the delight on John's face while he inhaled the fragrance of each herb as he added them to the sauce. We poured it all into the crockpot, simmered it all day so the house smelled intoxicatingly delicious and tonight we enjoyed the sauce with spaghetti and meatballs. So much of this meal had nourished my heart before I ever tasted it. So there...that was my number one kindness to myself.
A nice thing that happened to me yesterday is that I was surrounded in a safe place with love, hope, prayers, tears and heart medicine. I was in a place where it was okay to be vulnerable, okay to be afraid and encouraged through my tears.
Day two is today, I woke up and my first thought was 'Oh no, I have to do something nice for me today and I really don't have time.' I decided to place it in God's hands and see where I needed to be kind to myself today. And the gift I gave me was not quite as easy as yesterday's kindness. At three o'clock today, I walked into Weight Watchers. It felt like the billionth time, the billionth failure. The minute I stepped on the scale I told the clerk that I did not want to know my weight. I told her briefly about my current stress, I was desperate to seek my way out of shame and of needing to be here again. Needing to be here again means I am engaged in the same struggle not just of being overweight but of being stressed, shamed, disappointed and undeserving. She was kind to me. She told me my point amount for each day and I knew that was way higher than I wanted. The minute I got in the car, I looked at the number on the scale and I felt sad. I was not going to tell anyone that I had joined again, I was just going to try in secret. In my secret shame. And then I thought about the impact of the Brene Brown books I am reading and decided to do different and speak of my shame. Maybe that really will help some of it's power diminish.
After work, I actually attended the Weight Watchers meeting. I walked in with an attitude of 'here I go again' and my self defeating tapes began to play. I stayed pretty disengaged until close to the end of the meeting and the leader (who I thought had very kind eyes) asked what we were going to do different this week. I am sure she meant something like 'drink more water', 'track meals', 'exercise', and so I did as I do and gave the unique answer. I held back my tears the best I could as I said that I could not believe I was here again. I spoke of my shame and of my embarrassment. Several people turned and looked at me and I did not see judgment, I saw compassion.
Then, the lovely thing that happened to me today....After the meeting, a very sweet woman and her daughter came to introduce themselves. The woman asked me if I struggled loving myself and she said that she had struggled for years to love herself. She had tears in her eyes and hugged me tight. And I knew I was in the right place and that I had everything I needed in that moment. Several people told me that I was beautiful. That was hard for me to hear. I know my spirit is beautiful but my self image right now is that I am pretty icky. It is my goal to learn to not just love my heart but to love my body as is. I still want to lose these ugly pounds but with them I want to lose the ugly self hatred I have because it holds me back in my confidence.
So....I have been well loved and the love I have received has been found in the most surprising of places. I am hurting. I am thankful and I have a glimmer of hope mixed in with my sadness. God is good to us.
Peace and blessings to you.....
Life is hard, we all know that. I am battling right now to learn to love myself, and I have blogged about that very topic recently. I decided on a whim yesterday (more of a Holy Spirit whim I believe) to gift myself with 30 days of being kind to myself. Life is out of control and as always, I'm not in control of life. I am however, the manager of my life and I do have choices to make beauty out of the hands dealt.
My nice thing to myself yesterday (day one) was to pick fresh veggies and herbs from my garden. We had ripe red tomatoes, beautiful white Casper eggplants and narrow Ping ting lang (or something) purple eggplants; there were green bell peppers, and red sweet peppers. After photographing the gorgeous colors, I chopped, chopped, chopped my worries away. John came into the kitchen and asked to help. He has a big relator heart and likes to do things side by side, though as he enters pre adolescence he becomes too cool to join in these activities at times. That said, I was thrilled to have his sweet presence in that moment. I added an onion and fresh garlic and John opened cans of tomato sauce. I watched him sauté the veggies in a bit of olive oil and then I let him pour the hot veggies into the tomato sauce. Lastly, I went out into the pouring rain just to pick fresh basil, thyme and oregano. I am glad I did, if only to see the delight on John's face while he inhaled the fragrance of each herb as he added them to the sauce. We poured it all into the crockpot, simmered it all day so the house smelled intoxicatingly delicious and tonight we enjoyed the sauce with spaghetti and meatballs. So much of this meal had nourished my heart before I ever tasted it. So there...that was my number one kindness to myself.
A nice thing that happened to me yesterday is that I was surrounded in a safe place with love, hope, prayers, tears and heart medicine. I was in a place where it was okay to be vulnerable, okay to be afraid and encouraged through my tears.
Day two is today, I woke up and my first thought was 'Oh no, I have to do something nice for me today and I really don't have time.' I decided to place it in God's hands and see where I needed to be kind to myself today. And the gift I gave me was not quite as easy as yesterday's kindness. At three o'clock today, I walked into Weight Watchers. It felt like the billionth time, the billionth failure. The minute I stepped on the scale I told the clerk that I did not want to know my weight. I told her briefly about my current stress, I was desperate to seek my way out of shame and of needing to be here again. Needing to be here again means I am engaged in the same struggle not just of being overweight but of being stressed, shamed, disappointed and undeserving. She was kind to me. She told me my point amount for each day and I knew that was way higher than I wanted. The minute I got in the car, I looked at the number on the scale and I felt sad. I was not going to tell anyone that I had joined again, I was just going to try in secret. In my secret shame. And then I thought about the impact of the Brene Brown books I am reading and decided to do different and speak of my shame. Maybe that really will help some of it's power diminish.
After work, I actually attended the Weight Watchers meeting. I walked in with an attitude of 'here I go again' and my self defeating tapes began to play. I stayed pretty disengaged until close to the end of the meeting and the leader (who I thought had very kind eyes) asked what we were going to do different this week. I am sure she meant something like 'drink more water', 'track meals', 'exercise', and so I did as I do and gave the unique answer. I held back my tears the best I could as I said that I could not believe I was here again. I spoke of my shame and of my embarrassment. Several people turned and looked at me and I did not see judgment, I saw compassion.
Then, the lovely thing that happened to me today....After the meeting, a very sweet woman and her daughter came to introduce themselves. The woman asked me if I struggled loving myself and she said that she had struggled for years to love herself. She had tears in her eyes and hugged me tight. And I knew I was in the right place and that I had everything I needed in that moment. Several people told me that I was beautiful. That was hard for me to hear. I know my spirit is beautiful but my self image right now is that I am pretty icky. It is my goal to learn to not just love my heart but to love my body as is. I still want to lose these ugly pounds but with them I want to lose the ugly self hatred I have because it holds me back in my confidence.
So....I have been well loved and the love I have received has been found in the most surprising of places. I am hurting. I am thankful and I have a glimmer of hope mixed in with my sadness. God is good to us.
Peace and blessings to you.....
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Little girl lost
Vulnerable. Raw. Intentional. Real. Clarified. Pure. Inspirational. Life giving. Joyful. Feeling. Truthful. Peaceful. Confident. Radiant. Glory giving. Loving. Gracious. Thankful. Delightful.
These are some of the things I long to be. I long to live out of my heart and I yearn to be recognized as different and beautiful in my uniqueness.
I adore sunflowers, zinnias, peonies, wild flowers....they are just little God kisses to me. The colors, shapes, the way they open to greet the morning sun and the way they hang their sweet heads for a rest when then sun goes down....lessons in the flowers. God's artwork. I love them so. I want to learn myself every bit as much. I want to see the good, deep and soulful beauty in me and I want to bring a smile to my own face the way the sunflowers do. Mostly right now, I look in the mirror and I hate what I see on the outside. I know the inside of me is growing and stretching and it's a painful time. . I want to be congruent with who God created me to be. I want to go deep with him and jump into his arms with open heart and NO abandon. Wild and free, moving with the wind that is God. Leaning into the storms and standing tall in the sun.
God keeps on bringing us lessons until we get it....that's what I believe anyway. Not to be mean, not to taunt us - rather to prepare us for the next level. The beautiful sunflower stands noble in the light. It stands taller than me and shows off it's many yellow hues with the soft brown of the seeds contrasting in extraordinary ways. I remember the day John, Stella and I planted those little bitty seeds in the garden boxes Nathan and Ethan built us. I was so excited to see what would come of them, I had no idea they would be so glorious. I hope God sees his glory when he sees me. Actually, I believe he does. I just want to see the same and kind of I want the world to see the same. I want to stand tall. I want to write. I want to touch people's hearts through my writing. I dream of being a published writer. I journal. I blog. These are my seeds. I look in the mirror and even when I see ugly, I recognize there is a light hiding in my eyes and I cherish that....another seed. Tonight I was still.enough.to.know.that.He.is.God. And in that place my little girl me and I reconnected. She's special. I'm special. So many times in this big ole' world I lose sight of her - but always she is here waiting for me to love her. To love her Now. In spite of what is or what is not. That's my recurring theme. Learning to love myself.
I read this yesterday..."Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is he bravest thing that we will ever do." - Brene Brown, 'Gifts of Imperfection' I thought I owned my story but I'm wondering how much of my story owns me? Loving myself though the process of owning my story....that is what I am committed to learning to do. After all, I am a brave, worthy, loved by God, truly happy, whimsical, whole and surrendered woman basking in the warmth of God's sunshine and an engaged and trusting Momma. I have bought into the lie again that when life is so painful as it sometimes is, I am no longer that person. I will learn to love myself as God loves me...through the process. Little girl me will not forever be lost.
These are some of the things I long to be. I long to live out of my heart and I yearn to be recognized as different and beautiful in my uniqueness.
I adore sunflowers, zinnias, peonies, wild flowers....they are just little God kisses to me. The colors, shapes, the way they open to greet the morning sun and the way they hang their sweet heads for a rest when then sun goes down....lessons in the flowers. God's artwork. I love them so. I want to learn myself every bit as much. I want to see the good, deep and soulful beauty in me and I want to bring a smile to my own face the way the sunflowers do. Mostly right now, I look in the mirror and I hate what I see on the outside. I know the inside of me is growing and stretching and it's a painful time. . I want to be congruent with who God created me to be. I want to go deep with him and jump into his arms with open heart and NO abandon. Wild and free, moving with the wind that is God. Leaning into the storms and standing tall in the sun.
God keeps on bringing us lessons until we get it....that's what I believe anyway. Not to be mean, not to taunt us - rather to prepare us for the next level. The beautiful sunflower stands noble in the light. It stands taller than me and shows off it's many yellow hues with the soft brown of the seeds contrasting in extraordinary ways. I remember the day John, Stella and I planted those little bitty seeds in the garden boxes Nathan and Ethan built us. I was so excited to see what would come of them, I had no idea they would be so glorious. I hope God sees his glory when he sees me. Actually, I believe he does. I just want to see the same and kind of I want the world to see the same. I want to stand tall. I want to write. I want to touch people's hearts through my writing. I dream of being a published writer. I journal. I blog. These are my seeds. I look in the mirror and even when I see ugly, I recognize there is a light hiding in my eyes and I cherish that....another seed. Tonight I was still.enough.to.know.that.He.is.God. And in that place my little girl me and I reconnected. She's special. I'm special. So many times in this big ole' world I lose sight of her - but always she is here waiting for me to love her. To love her Now. In spite of what is or what is not. That's my recurring theme. Learning to love myself.
I read this yesterday..."Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is he bravest thing that we will ever do." - Brene Brown, 'Gifts of Imperfection' I thought I owned my story but I'm wondering how much of my story owns me? Loving myself though the process of owning my story....that is what I am committed to learning to do. After all, I am a brave, worthy, loved by God, truly happy, whimsical, whole and surrendered woman basking in the warmth of God's sunshine and an engaged and trusting Momma. I have bought into the lie again that when life is so painful as it sometimes is, I am no longer that person. I will learn to love myself as God loves me...through the process. Little girl me will not forever be lost.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Hidden Rainbows
Life is a journey, not a destination....and lately it has been a tough sort of journey. I am looking for the rainbows every day, because they are there. I am also acknowledging the fears, the hurts, the sorrows and the pain. I must, for if I did not recognize those things how would I know that the rainbow is truly a rainbow?
I went for my every 6 month cardiology appointment on Monday. Strange and new adventure for me amongst the familiar. I did not have the crazy anxiety I have always had weeks before, at least not in the forefront. I had a 'flat' sort of mood the days before, kind of a drawn into myself fussy mood. That probably wasn't any better than the familiar anxiety but I honestly am trying to be at a peaceful place. Maybe I've come to realize God really does have this (my life) and I can let go. The BUT is once I realize this as my truth, I attempt to take control of something other than my own life. Ahhh....growth is only hard, right?
I laid on that cold table for my EKG and considered how although times have changed they are still the same. There is no scrubbing of the skin with sandpaper and there are no huge amounts of goo that linger on your skin for days after. The EKG takes only minutes. There is no huge machine brought in the room where I can hear the reading of my heart rhythms going on, there is a little laptop that neatly prints out little paper with my big results. There is the uber quiet technician that I have never met before and try desperately to engage in conversation as invades my personal space with her many little sticky patches on my body. There is the recognition of the always cold table I am laying still on. There is the intense self awareness of my own invincibility as I lay quietly, so not in control of my surroundings or outcome.
My favorite are (not) the niceties as the Dr. comes in and asks the routine questions that make my tummy cringe and my skin crawl. Any shortness of breath? Any chest pain? Fainting spells? Dizziness? Swelling? No, no, no, no and no!
But hey Dr.....my house is in crazy chaos and we are about to go through arbitration with the company we have been struggling with for nearly a year. And, hey Dr., Alzheimer's is invading every inch of my Daddy and I am losing him. Also Dr., my Momma is so sad and so strong and I hate that I really can do nothing to stop her pain and bring my Daddy back and make my Granny well. Oh, and I think I have gained a lot of weight and I can't seem to focus on accomplishing anything fully at home and I say horribly ugly things to myself when I look in the mirror. So, dear Dr......can you hear me screaming inside? Oh...no? I didn't think so. Okay...we'll just stick to the subject at hand and I will walk out of here feeling as exhausted as I am and we'll call it good.
I know someone will wonder (or at least I would) so I'm going to throw this in. My heart healthy looks great. There are no changes in the EKG and my Dr. (truly a wonderful cardiologist) says that after my visit in the fall we will probably go back to annual visits rather than bi annual. Lastly, he didn't see the need to do any of the tests I HATE right now (although I am thankful for the knowledge they provide). Dr. says that we can go back to only doing those every 2 or three years. For all of these things, I am beyond grateful. I have to promise to call if anything feels weird of course, and I promised. I am the queen of feeling weird, but I think I understand what he means.
Okay...so what did I leave the dr. office with? Lots of gratitude for a good report and lots of praise for my God. Lots of sorrow for my parents and still grieving for what was and what 'should've/could've' been. Betrayed feelings over our house situation and of course, a good dose of shame and self hatred for how I've let myself go.
The rainbows....A great report from the Dr.! (although my first great report was the lack of huge anxiety and the peace about going...no it was not 100% but it was very different for me). I have my Mom and I have my Dad; I have their love for me and my love for them. My husband and my children....it is a hard time in our marriage, stress abounds. However, the love I feel in my little family pushes and pulls me through this life. Friends, nephews, nieces, furry friends, a HOME that cannot be taken by anyone b/c it is in our hearts, shelter, food, clothing, a career I really do enjoy, my garden, the hum of the fan, being not hurt in a car wreck this week (no one was hurt = thankfulness), my nephew Ethan gets to go SKY DIVING today, and the list goes on.
My heart aches. My heart rejoices. Ebbs and flows. This is life. Thankfulness in the happy, gratitude in the sorrow and we keep on going..................
Find your rainbows and hang on tight.
I went for my every 6 month cardiology appointment on Monday. Strange and new adventure for me amongst the familiar. I did not have the crazy anxiety I have always had weeks before, at least not in the forefront. I had a 'flat' sort of mood the days before, kind of a drawn into myself fussy mood. That probably wasn't any better than the familiar anxiety but I honestly am trying to be at a peaceful place. Maybe I've come to realize God really does have this (my life) and I can let go. The BUT is once I realize this as my truth, I attempt to take control of something other than my own life. Ahhh....growth is only hard, right?
I laid on that cold table for my EKG and considered how although times have changed they are still the same. There is no scrubbing of the skin with sandpaper and there are no huge amounts of goo that linger on your skin for days after. The EKG takes only minutes. There is no huge machine brought in the room where I can hear the reading of my heart rhythms going on, there is a little laptop that neatly prints out little paper with my big results. There is the uber quiet technician that I have never met before and try desperately to engage in conversation as invades my personal space with her many little sticky patches on my body. There is the recognition of the always cold table I am laying still on. There is the intense self awareness of my own invincibility as I lay quietly, so not in control of my surroundings or outcome.
My favorite are (not) the niceties as the Dr. comes in and asks the routine questions that make my tummy cringe and my skin crawl. Any shortness of breath? Any chest pain? Fainting spells? Dizziness? Swelling? No, no, no, no and no!
But hey Dr.....my house is in crazy chaos and we are about to go through arbitration with the company we have been struggling with for nearly a year. And, hey Dr., Alzheimer's is invading every inch of my Daddy and I am losing him. Also Dr., my Momma is so sad and so strong and I hate that I really can do nothing to stop her pain and bring my Daddy back and make my Granny well. Oh, and I think I have gained a lot of weight and I can't seem to focus on accomplishing anything fully at home and I say horribly ugly things to myself when I look in the mirror. So, dear Dr......can you hear me screaming inside? Oh...no? I didn't think so. Okay...we'll just stick to the subject at hand and I will walk out of here feeling as exhausted as I am and we'll call it good.
I know someone will wonder (or at least I would) so I'm going to throw this in. My heart healthy looks great. There are no changes in the EKG and my Dr. (truly a wonderful cardiologist) says that after my visit in the fall we will probably go back to annual visits rather than bi annual. Lastly, he didn't see the need to do any of the tests I HATE right now (although I am thankful for the knowledge they provide). Dr. says that we can go back to only doing those every 2 or three years. For all of these things, I am beyond grateful. I have to promise to call if anything feels weird of course, and I promised. I am the queen of feeling weird, but I think I understand what he means.
Okay...so what did I leave the dr. office with? Lots of gratitude for a good report and lots of praise for my God. Lots of sorrow for my parents and still grieving for what was and what 'should've/could've' been. Betrayed feelings over our house situation and of course, a good dose of shame and self hatred for how I've let myself go.
The rainbows....A great report from the Dr.! (although my first great report was the lack of huge anxiety and the peace about going...no it was not 100% but it was very different for me). I have my Mom and I have my Dad; I have their love for me and my love for them. My husband and my children....it is a hard time in our marriage, stress abounds. However, the love I feel in my little family pushes and pulls me through this life. Friends, nephews, nieces, furry friends, a HOME that cannot be taken by anyone b/c it is in our hearts, shelter, food, clothing, a career I really do enjoy, my garden, the hum of the fan, being not hurt in a car wreck this week (no one was hurt = thankfulness), my nephew Ethan gets to go SKY DIVING today, and the list goes on.
My heart aches. My heart rejoices. Ebbs and flows. This is life. Thankfulness in the happy, gratitude in the sorrow and we keep on going..................
Find your rainbows and hang on tight.
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