Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Confession Wednesday

Welcome to Confession Wednesday! I believe that sometimes admitting our behaviors is the first step in correcting them…or laughing at them…either way…here’s what I am confessing to this week:

My son and I were driving around town to do some errands. I offered to stop to get us both a cup of iced coffee. My boy loves coffee… decaf of course. Well, I’ll have you know that I had already had my morning cup of coffee and usually if I have two cups it’s like giving me an enema. I didn’t think about that at the time… and so the story unfolds.

We are getting our errands done. We had one more stop… the grocery store. By the time we pulled into the parking lot I knew I wasn’t going to make it home. That second cup of coffee was doing its thing on my digestive track.

Anyways, we arrived at the grocery store. We grabbed a grocery cart. We did the walk of shame to the back of the store for the restroom. I didn’t have a choice… I had to go!

Now, let me stop here for one brief moment to say that I, my friends, am a home pooper. That’s right. I do not like to go other places. I prefer the comforts of my own home… like those wonderful flushable wipes.

There are only two single roomed bathrooms at this grocery store. The men’s was closed down for “repair”.  So, my son and I both went into the women’s together. He did his thing quickly. Then, I asked him to stand in the corner with his back to me.

I still wasn’t sure I could do it. I was still apprehensive about going in public. As soon as I sat down though… there was no stopping it. Dear Lord! It was like a colon cleanse. And, since my son was in the there with me… in the corner… I decided to do a courtesy flush to get rid of my lower intestine that I was sure just fell out of my body.

That’s when it happened… one of my worst fears about pooping in public. The toilet was backing up. The coffee enema, the colon cleanse, my lower intestine just sat there rising up to the rim of the toilet bowl. Then it stopped. The fact that the men’s restroom was closed for “repair” should have been an indicator that trouble was ahead.  

I’m trying to explain to my son what was happening as he was speaking into the wall because I still forbad him to turn around for privacy sake.

I was in a panic mode. What do I do?! Wash my hands and just leave it? Tell one of the clerks and admit that I clogged the toilet? Run out of the store crying? My corner friend and I were talking about all of this. Usually I try to find the lesson in all of life’s circumstances and situations. Usually I try to be the person I want my son to become. Usually I try to be the change I wish to see in the world. None of that seemed to matter as I stared at my floating and rising issue.

Then my son did the noblest thing that I think he has ever done for me. He said, “Mom, I’ll go find someone and tell them that the toilet is clogged.” It is like he was my knight in shining armor… my hero! He saved the day! He was so brave marching up to the clerk to tell her.

My cart and I dove off into the first isle next to the restroom. This was, again, a mistake because I could hear the clerk enter the restroom and gasp for air. That poor lady… she doesn’t make enough money to deal with that crap!  

At first, I felt ashamed that I allowed my son to take the fall for me… but he wanted to, right? He needed to do that for me, right? I’m pretty sure the answer is yes to both of those questions because as he walked away from the clerk he had a look of pride in his eyes... he knew he saved the day! And, as he later recounted the story with his dad… he said, “I saved Mommy today!”

So, here’s my confession for this Wednesday…

My son is my hero! And, I am a confirmed home pooper!

Friday, May 24, 2013

Finding The Right Words To Pray

My son was praying before bed… let me backup a few steps. My son is a perfectionist. Sometimes he wants to do things so perfectly and just right that he is paralyzed by this desire. He’d rather not do it at all than do it and not get it prefect. So, I’ve developed a saying in our house, “Perfection is NOT welcome here. But good enough is welcome.”

Okay… where were we? Oh yeah... my son was praying before bed. Then, he stopped and said, “I didn’t say that right.” Even though I was tired, we began a long talk (as he laid there in the dark, snuggled down with his 100 blanks) about how God doesn’t want perfect words; He just wants to hear what’s on your heart.

We talked about how there isn’t a right or wrong way to say prayers. You don’t have to start your prayer with a beginning line… or an ending line. There isn’t a script or a verse that must be recited. God isn’t expecting perfection… He is expecting good enough.

We talked about how prayer is really just a conversation with God. And, in order to become closer to God we must invest in that relationship with time and communication. We are encouraged to talk to God just like we talk to a parent or a friend.

We talked about how we don’t have to just pray before bed. We can pray and talk to God ALL. DAY. LONG. We can ask for strength, we can praise and thank Him, and we can even laugh with Him. We can do these things in the car, in the bathroom, in our minds, and even at school… especially at school.  

We talked about how sometimes finding the right words to pray isn’t easy. But that it isn’t so much about the words we pray. It is more-so about the reaching, surrendering, and communicating to God. Our Heavenly Father knows what’s on our minds; He wants us to train our minds and hearts to seek Him first though. It isn’t about finding the right words to pray… just open your heart and let the words fall into God’s hands.

After our long talk, my son prayed again… with freedom, without reservations, without the pressure of finding the right words to pray. The words that came out of his mouth were beautiful, raw, and from the heart. I just know God heard my son’s words and that those words brought Him joy.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Are We There YET?

I’m hungry! Are we almost there? I’m bored! I’m thirsty! I have to pee! Are we there YET? I’m tired!  Why does it take so long?

Sound familiar? 

While driving out to the lake the other day, I heard all of these from the back seat passenger. You might have heard these statements and questions before on a road trip too. These words are usually spoken by our children. They speak discontentment with the present moment and impatience for the journey to end. They just want to get there already!

We attempt to comfort them with words of encouragement… words to teach them contentment and patience. We promise a great destination at the end of our travels.  We respond to our children… Have a snack. Be patient.  Watch a movie or read a book. Here… drink this. We’ll stop soon. We are almost there. Rest, child! Hang in there just a little longer, honey!

As children of God, don’t we speak these words to Him as well? God, I’m hungry for more! God, are we almost there? God, I’m bored with my current situation! God, I’m thirsty for change! God, I have to pee… okay, maybe that one doesn’t apply! God, are we there YET? God, I am tired! God, why does it take so long to get where I am going?

Don’t we feel discontentment with the present moment? Don’t we feel impatience for the journey to end? Don’t we just want to get there already?

Just as parents comfort their children with words, our Father in Heaven comforts us with His Words too. His Words of encouragement… His Words to teach us contentment and patience. God promises us a great destination at the end of our travels too. 

Even though God’s Words are alive in me… I still find myself asking Him, “Are we there YET?” He responds, “Be patient. We are almost there. Rest, child! Hang in there just a little longer, honey!”

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Confession Wednesday

Welcome to Confession Wednesday! I believe that sometimes admitting our behaviors is the first step in correcting them…or laughing at them…either way…here’s what I am confessing to this week:

On the drive to the lake, I realized that I missed a section of hair on my leg while I was shaving. Now, for most people this would not be so noticeable. For me, however, I am a hairy beast who doesn’t like to shave. It had probably been three days since I last shaved. So, it was very noticeable when I missed a section.

Those dark long hairs just kept staring at me on the drive. As if my first appearance in a bathing suit this season wasn’t traumatic enough… now, I have a soul patch on my thigh.

Perhaps it will distract people from noticing the other flaws on my near-naked-bathing-suited-body. Instead of being remembered as the girl who could really drop of few pounds, maybe the lake goers will remember me as Chewbacca’s sister.

Huh… I wonder what the lesser of two judgments would be?!

So, here’s my confession for this Wednesday…

Yes, I do have a fuzzy soul patch on my thigh. No, you cannot pet it! 

Sunday, May 12, 2013

The Gifts of Motherhood

The gifts I have received as a Mother have formed me into the person I am today and the person I will continue to become… my child has given me these gifts:

A love like no other
How to put others before myself
When I have nothing left to give… I still must give
Child like faith
All of me is enough… even when it isn’t
New and different perspective
If I love my own child THIS much… how much must God love me
The understanding the everyone is someone’s child
I CAN function outside of my comfort zone
Vulnerability is a requirement for survival
Servant’s heart
Life through the eyes of a child
It is okay to be flawed and imperfect 
Some things are worth fighting for… some things aren’t
A hug really does make everything better
The desire to be a better person
To feel the emotions of another… down to my core
Rising above circumstances
My heart walking outside of my body

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Confession Wednesday

Welcome to Confession Wednesday! I believe that sometimes admitting our behaviors is the first step in correcting them…or laughing at them…either way…here’s what I am confessing to this week:

I am a miss matched underwear and bra woman. I just grab whatever is clean… whatever won’t show through my clothes… whatever won’t stick out from my clothes… whatever does the job of covering my lady parts under my garments. For me, they just serve a purpose.

Then, there are those days when my under garments just so happen to match. Somehow the right colored underwear and bra are clean at the same time. Somehow, in my getting ready fog and confusion, I grabbed a matching pair. It must be Divine intervention.  

On those days… I feel special. On those days… I have a little bit more pep in my step. On those days… I could take over the world.

Why don’t I match everyday then, you ask? Well, truth be told, I am not sure the world is ready for me yet.

So, here’s my confession for this Wednesday…

If I wore matching underwear and bra everyday… I could take over the world! Mwahahahaha! 

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Investing in Good Health

In a world where we just want to cruise by with putting forth little or no effort… where we just expect everything to come easy… where many people feel entitlement… these attitudes and behaviors spill into every aspect of our society. This mind-set is even involved with being healthy… both mentally and physically.

If you won the lottery with having the gene for good mental and physical health without effort… then good for you! The rest of us have to work for it… we have to work really hard for it… we have to invest in our good health.

People pretend like they are victims of their poor mental and physical health… granted, some of which is hereditary and you don’t have control over… but, I too played a victim role and I too have received some undesirable genes. With that being said, I also have made some choices that inhibit my good health; yet, I felt victimized by the results of my own choices.

Part of my journey to become better than I have ever been before is to stop being a victim (even of my own choices) and to start being accountable, in control, pro-active, and to invest in good health. I am not entitled to good health… but, I am empowered to make healthy choices.

Here are the ways that I invest in my mental and physical health:

Healthy Relationships
Essential Oils
Regular Dr. Check-Ups
Positive Self-Talk
Clear Expectations
Eating Well
Liver Cleanse
Time With My Girls
Relationship with God
Down Time

These investments are not just for me… nope! These investments are for the people I love too. These investments are so that I can fully be WHO God made me to be. My best self for His glory!  

I can always feel when I have neglected myself… when I don’t invest in myself. I get irritable. I get impatient. I distance myself. I forget WHO I am. I am not full… I am empty; therefore, I have nothing give to the people I love in my life.

How are you investing? Or are you expecting good health to just knock on your front door? You are empowered to make healthy choices. We have a choice… we always have a choice.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Un-teaching Myself Life's Lies

From a young age, life taught me to be independent… to not rely on anyone… to not invest too much… to keep people at a distance… because in the end they will just walk away anyways. You can call it abandonment issues. You can call it a wall of protection. You can call it fear. You can even call it wearing a mask. If you called it any one of those things or all of those things…you’d be right.

Life also taught me all of those things about marriage. Out of abandonment issues… I tried to keep my husband at an arm’s length. As I stacked the bricks to build my wall of protection… I would disconnect. Out of fear of him just walking away anyways… I would not fully let him in. My mask kept me pretending and safe. Yep… life taught me that marriage was the hardest relationship of all because it is the area that could hurt me the most.

In my marriage, the wall had to be built bigger and stronger. The mask had to be more elaborate. I couldn’t chance a broken heart. If I wasn’t ALL IN within that relationship then the devastation wouldn’t hurt as bad. I was preparing myself… you know, just in case.

I forebode the sadness and wouldn’t allow myself to enjoy the happiness that a rich, fulfilling marriage would allow… I did that… I have done that… all for the sake of protection from a broken heart. Sounds counterproductive now that I really stop to think about it… inflicting a little bit of pain and sadness throughout my life so that if my heart was broken I wouldn’t feel it as much. All the while… slowly poisoning myself and my marriage.  

Life taught me all of those things and I spent much of my adult life un-teaching myself those things. I’ve come so far, really. Combating my abandonment issues with realizing I am enough and I am worthy. Breaking down walls of protection… one brick at a time… until I am truly vulnerable, exposed, raw.  Facing my fears with courage. Taking off my mask… revealing my true self… even when I don’t feel safe… and leaning into those emotions anyways.

Fortunately I realized that what life taught me was a lie… fortunately it didn’t cost me my marriage… fortunately I have an amazing man by my side… fortunately he loves me for the beautiful mess that I am.

I am un-teaching myself by choosing to stop believing the lies that life taught me…by choosing to stop slowly poisoning myself… by choosing a rich, fulfilling marriage… by choosing love and potential heart break because it really is worth it all. We can’t predict what the future will hold. We can’t prevent unwanted feelings and situations, but we can enjoy this moment that we do have together by being ALL IN.

I have had to un-teach myself so many things that life has taught me. Life can be such a liar!

How has life lied to you? Are you slowly poisoning yourself too?

Thursday, May 2, 2013

When we grow up…

We focus our questions so often around WHAT do people want to be when they grow up. WHAT… as if to say they must be something separate from who they already are… as if there is going to be some big transformation… as if there is a correct formula or calculation or end point when they arrive. WHAT… as if it is something external and separate from who they are. WHAT implies that they are to accomplish a checklist of items and then be done… then they are complete. That concept is certainly misleading. I’ve been waiting my life to be done with that checklist.

I used to think there was something wrong with me because I didn’t know WHAT I wanted to be. In college I changed my mind concerning my degree… like 4 times! Other people knew WHAT they were going to be. I figured they must have received a crystal ball as a high school graduation gift and my family couldn’t afford that. They were so sure about their answer to WHAT. I am still waiting to see WHAT I am going to be when I grow up. It changes a lot.

There is a lot of societal pressure as to WHAT we will become.  We go to school. We take the right classes… and tests… and steps. We work endless hours on WHAT we must become. We neglect family, friends, commitments, connections, ourselves… all to focus on chasing after our WHAT. Haven’t you met people who have focused on WHAT they were going to become and neglected who they were? They are empty inside. They do WHAT they became and that’s all.

But… what if we changed our question to WHO… WHO are you going to be when you grow up? What if we focused on developing our souls along the way. What if we focused on WHO God made us to be… regardless of our career or trade or WHAT we want to be when we grow up. Those things don’t define us. WHO we are defines us.

What if… just what if… we asked children WHO they wanted to be instead of WHAT they wanted to be. WHO implies that we were made to be something more than the roles we play in this world. That question implies that it is our responsibility to continue growing not just our minds and bank accounts, but our souls. That question implies that there is no correct formula or calculation or end point when you arrive… just constant change, renewal, reflection, and development into WHO you are going to be when you grow up. WHO implies that we are continually growing into our authentic selves… WHO God made us to be.

So, WHO do you want to be when you grow up?  

I decided to test out my theory on my own child… he’s ten… he’s willing. So, I told him that I was thinking about this idea of asking children WHO they wanted to be when they grew up instead of WHAT they wanted to be when they grew up. I asked him… and WHO he wants to be is a “Man of God”.  That was his honest… from the heart… didn’t skip a beat answer!  

What if… we asked all the children WHO they wanted to be and then helped them become that? When children think about WHAT they want to become, it is a far-far away goal… so separate and distant from now. If children focused on WHO they want to become they will see that they can begin to become that now. WHO they want to be can start today. They can already be successful. Then, we can ask the question, “WHAT do you want to do with your life now that you know WHO you are?”

Because in the end… it is WHO you are not WHAT you are when you grow up.

Confession Wednesday

Welcome to Confession Wednesday! I believe that sometimes admitting our behaviors is the first step in correcting them…or laughing at them…either way…here’s what I am confessing to this week:

I, we as women, have a lot of violating experiences that we willingly pay for in our lives. The trifecta of violations: Dermatologist, Gynecologist, Radiologist.

I have a lot of moles on my body.  To prove that statement… I even have one on my eye lid. It’s cute really. My back, on the other hand, is kind of like a dot-to-dot game… of Abraham Lincoln… with his hat on… sitting on the planet Saturn. It’s very detailed! But, they and Abe are just a part of who I am… I’m cool with it.

So, because of these skin raisins I go to the dermatologist to get them checked out. She says they are beautiful examples of moles. I think she needs to get out more often. Moles are many things… cute, maybe… beautiful, not so much.

When I get a full body check at the dermatologists office I am naked (except for my panties). The dr. looks me over with a flashlight… inch-by-inch. This takes a while because there is a lot of surface area to cover. I am certain she is judging me and my naked body while she shines her little light on my moles. I’d be judging her if she was standing in front of me naked. It’s just what we women do. I feel a bit violated. I think that if aliens abducted me and started probing me and scanning my body… this is what it would feel like.

As if going to the dermatologist isn’t violating enough. I, we as women, go to the gynecologist too. Again… naked and violated.

You would think that for as long as I’ve been going to the gynecologist that I’d be able to scoot down far enough on the table the first try. I think that I get so nervous that I prematurely scoot or I have scooting dysfunction… it is all a performance fear.  So, I end up scooting down the paper lined patient table like a dog with worms scooting across the carpet on his butt. It’s a little humiliating!

I’m just relieved that my gynecologist isn’t saying that there is anything beautiful going on down “there”.  When my dermatologist say that it’s one thing. I just think she needs to get out more often. If my gynecologist says that then I am going to expect her to ask me what my sign is next… or if I come here often…  or just straight up ask me for my digits.

While I’m discussing my visits to the gynecologist office… I must discuss the metal bear trap thingy that they put inside you. No discussion of the GYN office would be complete without it. Is it too much to ask for them to warm the bear trap up? The doctor knows it is cold. She tells me it is... EVERYTIME. “Oh, it is going to be a little cold.” A little? Do they keep it in the beer fridge in the staff lounge? It is freezing cold! Then, there is the, “You will feel just a little pressure.”  A little pressure is my child sitting on my lap. The bear trap inside my coochy is NOT a little pressure. It is like they are trying to crack me open… from the inside.

I’ve also had the displeasure of going to the Radiologist for a Mammogram… several times. You see… I’m a very small breasted woman. In order for them to get my breast into the death machine they have to pull fat and skin all the way from my back in with my breast to get some “matter” to scan. Then they flatten my breast/back fat into a pancake. I have to dry hump the machine in order to hold the pose. It is really unnatural! We get to wear paisties… but we don’t get to keep them! No door prize here! All the while… I try to make uncomfortable small talk with the radiologist. “Sooooo… how about the weather we’ve been having? Did you see that Haboob roll in the other day? I bet you see a lot of those around here!”  The entire experience is rather humiliating.

The only way any of these experiences would be better is if they offered me a drink in the lounge while I was waiting for my appointment. Isn’t that how it works? You buy me a drink and to show my appreciation I take my clothes off and allow you to perform your fetishes on me. What? NO! That’s not how it works! Good thing I’m married. I just wouldn’t be very good at the whole dating scene. I’m sure that was apparent to you way back when I thought a pick-up line was “what’s your sign”. That’s probably not used anymore either.

Moles,  Bear Traps, and Pancakes… Oh My!

So, here’s my confession for this Wednesday…
If I must be violated… I at least would like a drink first.