Home is...

I love this song but it makes me cry to varying degrees depending how fragile I'm feeling and for  a few different reasons.  

It was popular when my dad was dying and the verse, Be careful what you wish for, cuz you just might get it all and then some you don't want, took on poignant meaning.  I was dreading going home for the funeral because I knew the family drama would be high and I would be trying to play peacemaker or at least try to pick my way through the battlefield keeping myself and my little family relatively unscathed.  Yeah, wish granted since he died the day *I* was born making it impossible for me to make the 10 hour trek for his funeral.  

As I listened to it on the treadmill yesterday, it brought on tears for a new and different reason.  But if you know me, you know that tears are my release valve so, no big news there.  I was just glad no one was downstairs to witness the huge sobs as I chugged along, no one I had to reassure that mommy was fine, because I wasn't.

I realized the truth in the cliche, "You can never go home again,"  recently.  I also realized that home is not always the geographic place where you grow up, where your childhood home is or even where your biological family is.

The kiddos and I took a road trip back to the place where I grew up, where two of my kids were born.  The mountains were gorgeous, the air was so fresh and....to say we were not welcomed with open arms would be an understatement.  

Ouch.

So after little more than a drive by hello to family because we felt so welcomed and loved (not), I showed the kids where I lived, where I worked, we went to the top of a mountain (the picture at the top of this blog) ate some ice cream and came back...home.  

I left my house in the morning thinking I was going home, and I left the place of my birth heading ... home.  

As we were driving out of town that afternoon, I turned to the 17 yo and said, "It's beautiful here but as much as I love it, I don't think we could live here again."  He finished my thought, "We don't have anyone here anymore."  

I had to keep my eyes on the road and bite my lip (Staring out into the night, trying to hide the pain)  because it hurt me so much to hear him say it.  For me to feel it was one thing, for my kids to feel it was a whole new level of hurt.

No, home wasn't in my rear view mirror.  Home is where we live now; (The place where love and feeling good don't ever cost a thing, and the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.) where we are surrounded by friends, people who love and accept us, who care enough to get messy with us when we need them; family by heart.  Even the 17 yo recognized where our people are.  I think that says something. ;) 

I'm going home, to the place where I belong. Where your love has always been enough for me.  I'm not running from, no I think you got me all wrong.  I don't regret this life I chose for me. But these places and these faces are getting old so I'm going home.  

I am learning (over and over...and over again) that I grow through the hard things; the hurts and challenges and mistakes.  I wish it wasn't like that.  Maybe it's just me and I can't learn without some emotional drama/trauma. The gift is that through it, I gain compassion for others.  My heart is overflowing with compassion. ;)  

I hope that wherever you are, you find the people who love and support you, even when life gets messy.  I hope that you are home.

-Peace

If the Shoe Doesn't Fit...

This morning I was joking about my list of Cinderella chores, which usually brings to mind the Disney version with singing mice...

But in her book, Ruby Slippers, Jonalyn Grace Fincher describes the Grimm version in which the stepsisters, so desperate to fit into the tiny golden slippers, slice away parts of their feet and hobble bloodied and mutilated to the prince.  (And in case you missed the end of the story, it's all for naught.  Cinderella still gets the guy. ;) )

Fincher states:

Often the roles we play are like pinching shoes.  In order to fit some role, we squeeze ourselves, contort ourselves, even cut off parts of ourselves...It hurts to wear shoes that are not for us.  It hurts to keep shaving off parts of our souls.  Can we just admit it once and for all?  Our feet don't fit Cinderella's slipper...It's embarrassing-- ugly even-- when we see what we've done to ourselves to fit something that doesn't even belong to us, but until we admit it we can't get out of these silly shoes (pp. 19-20).

Now, part of me is all about shoe analogies right now.  The instrument of torture treadmill is taking a toll on my tootsies.  It's not pretty and a pedi is not going to fix it.  A visit to a professional running shoe fitting type person is in order and I think I know someone who can point me in the right direction.

 So my feet, they are a little messed up, but as I've shared, my soul is a little blistered, too.

People learn bits and pieces about me and they think they can label me.  They squeeze me into a shoe that is not a good fit and I try to hobble around in it...or I try to kick it off.  I have 6 kids.  I went to seminary.  I....have done and said and experienced lots of things, and I still do.  I didn't stop learning and living and growing. I still make mistakes, question, evaluate, change my mind, say and do stupid things...because I am human and humans are a big ol' mess. 

As I was contemplating this, I kept thinking of a Meredith Brooks song. I hate the world today, (The Husband will tell you I utter this phrase frequently.) You're so good to me, I know but I can't change.  I tried to tell you but you look at me like maybe I'm an angel underneath, innocent and sweet...I'm a little bit of everything all rolled into one...

Sometimes we change our shoes to fit our moods or a season in our life.  I love to wear clogs now.  In college I wore penny loafers (as did most of my sorority sisters. ;) ).  In the winter I love to wear my black leather boots. In the summer, a cute pair of flip flops is the ticket. I'm still searching for a pair of heels I can wear without tottering like I've had a few too many glasses of wine (when I'm perfectly sober).  Just like I change my shoes, I have an evolving and growing sense of self. 

Trying to fit into a role that isn't authentically our own...is like wearing shoes that don't fit.  They pinch and blister and hinder our progress. (Like every pair of heels I've tried on lately.) 

Let's agree to not shave off pieces of our souls to fit another person's expectation of what we should be or do.  Let's just be our best authentic selves, in whatever shoes really fit us...and likewise, not try to shoehorn anyone else into the pair we think they should be wearing based on a snippet of what we think we know about them.   

Now, somebody help me out of these silly shoes. ;)

-Peace

I'm Back.

Seeking.  Looking for the wrong things in the wrong places. 

Do you ever have times like that?  Times where you cannot see the forest for the trees?

I've had a few weeks of that.  That explains why I haven't written.  I've been navel gazing, but not in the right frame of mind.  I'm still hitting the treadmill daily.  I'm still seeking to choose my own destiny and reclaim the awesome I've lost (if I ever had it???). 

The big picture just got a little out of focus for me.

Interestingly, as I was having my own crisis of identity, responsibility, even faith to some degree; the rest of my life was showing the strain from my own cracks.  I was trying to go through the motions and put a smile on my face but my friends (and family) noticed.  I was forgetful, snappish and just not me.  (Well the snappishness might be "me". ;) )

One of my friends said, "You don't have to put a smile on for us, what's going on?"  Another invited me for coffee and then said, "Okay, I'm here, I'm a listening ear.  What's going on?"   I told them I needed to work it out in my own head, because I did.

This week I told a trusted mentor and friend that her comments about the way Satan will find a crack to get a toehold had hit home for me and that I was struggling.  She didn't pry.  She didn't judge.  She prayed and she supported and in telling her I was struggling, I found peace.

I was unable to go to God myself  then because I felt so lost, so separated from Him through my own inner turmoil and while friends reached out to toss me a life preserver of sorts, I was not ready to grab it. 

I share this with you for a few reasons.  1. To share that sometimes even when we're well-intentioned and loving, people may not be ready to receive our help or blessings.  2. To share that even when you feel totally alone and lost, God will bring someone to you, to be His hands and feet and love you when you're feeling unlovable. 3. To share that you can lose your focus and get off track, but through His grace you can find your way back (hopefully none of us get too far off track) .

I recently heard Toby Mac's "Made to Love You" and few verses spoke to my heart: Check my reflection, I ain't feelin' what I see, It's no mystery.  Whatever happened to a passion I could live for?  What became of the flame that made me feel more?  And when did I forget that...I was made to love you?......I feel the haters spittin' vapors on my dreams, but I still believe. 

This and I hear a seminary professor saying, as she so frequently did, "Remember who you are and Whose you are."  Wiser words I may never hear.  Because even as I seek "me", my Creator already knows.  Being authentically and awesomely me is a fulfillment of that creation.

I have said many times this week that I feel abundantly blessed to have amazing friends.  I do.  They bring me peace and joy and love, they pray and laugh and cry with me. 

God knows who I am when I do not.  God leads me where I need to go when I am lost.  God brings me people to show me love when I am feeling most unlovable.  God has blessed me with amazing friends because God knows how much I need them.  My prayer is that I can be that kind of friend to them too.

-Peace

Jack Welch on the Wall

When I was a junior in college, I found a quote by Jack Welch, the former CEO of GE:

Control your own destiny or someone else will.

I wrote it down and pinned it to the bulletin board that hung above my desk next to photo collages of friends, magazine cutouts and a life we all thought we wanted (and would have).  I wanted to embrace controlling my destiny, perhaps because I knew I was not in control, but controlled; whether it be by my fears, my family, peers, boyfriends....think of me as a leaf in a stream, carried by the current, sometimes gently, sometimes getting a little "beat up" in the process. 

Yesterday I was searching for a quote or saying to put in my oldest boy's senior yearbook patron ad and I found Jack Welch's quote.  We decided to go with something else, something that will mean something to him..and make him laugh, but I can't share it here yet.  (Not that he would ever read this. As if!)

Anyway, coming across that quote made me think...who is controlling my destiny?

If we want to go theological the answer still isn't clear cut.  Some believe that God started the world and now it's running on momentum and God is hands-off, watching.  Some believe that God has a hand in every little thing that happens.  Most believe that God has a plan for each of us and that God can use for good everything our free-willing selves choose to do.

So if I'm reclaiming my awesome, I need to start thinking about controlling my destiny.  But controlling my destiny may have consequences, some you expect and some that are unanticipated and may not rear their (ugly ?) heads for quite some time. I don't live in a vacuum; I have a family, friends, obligations...I can't just decide I want to climb Mount Kilimanjaro and beat feet, you know?  (No, I really have no desire to do that, it was an example.)

Yesterday one of my friends posted a quote on crackbook   fb, "...if you get a chance, take it.  If it changes your life, let it..."  Hmmmm.  Ms Medium isn't a chance-taking, acceptor of change.  Remember the leaf in the stream, getting carried by the current?  And now I'm thinking about controlling my destiny and taking chances.  It's a lot to think about, at least it is for me. 

I'm taking baby steps and one of them is realizing that finding my awesome depends on me controlling my own destiny.  How I feel, who I am, what I do cannot be based on another human, no matter how much I love them, respect them or want them to accept and love me.

Baby steps.  When the Husband's response to a new outfit I choose is, "I [meaning him] don't have to wear it." (which means he hates it), and I loved it, I will still love it.  (And my dark purple nail polish.)  To be fair, I don't think he's trying to control me or my choices, just voicing his opinion.  It's my problem that I internalize his opinion and don't trust my own.

Controlling my own destiny (and finding my awesome, cuz it's all about me.;) ) is about trusting myself to be rational and practical but it doesn't necessarily mean just going where the current takes me.  It's not going to be easy and sometimes my outfit won't work.  (Let's hope that's the worst consequence. ;) )

That handwritten quote from all of those years ago might still be kicking around in a box (doubtful), but I'm glad I was reminded of it yesterday and I want to embrace it again.

To loosely quote Martin Luther, "Sin boldly, and trust in the Lord bolder still."

-Peace

I Go Out Walkin'...Errr

This morning as the beads of sweat trickled down my cheeks I focused on not hitting the wall.  Literally. 

It was great to have a treadmill in the house so my exercise wasn't dependent on anyone else's schedule.  I know that every day I can hop on and walk/run and get it done.  Eye on the prize.

Usually I walk at the park.  On days when the parking lots are sparse, I admit I am a little anxious in the wooded areas and I look over my shoulder more frequently.  (The Husband gripes about how unsafe it is or me to run/walk with ear buds in because it makes me less aware of my surroundings..."It helps me keep my pace." I argue.) 

"Keeping my pace" was a figment of my imagination.  That is lesson one learned from the treadmill (which I plan to name...).  You see, setting the treadmill, I had to stay at the pace or admit defeat and lower the speed. 

Have I mentioned my prideful nature? 

In line with keeping my pace is hitting the wall...I can walk and search for the right song on my ipod at the same time, adding in a motorized walkway however, adds a new skill set which I will have to master.  I have to focus on keeping the pace more on the treadmill so when I got distracted I found myself slipping back and dangerously close to hitting the wall, the literal one.  That just doesn't happen at the park.  I guess it's a good thing I don't try to chew gum while I'm on the treadmill, that might max out my multi-tasking abilities. ;)

Positives to sweating with the instrument of torture?  I do not have to worry about childcare because they were still snoozing, except for Miss M who watched from her high chair with amusement as she ate her cereal.  That means I can exercise every day, rain or shine regardless of when the Husband leaves or gets home.  I did not have to side-step dead frogs (happens more that you'd think), avoid attack grasshoppers (apparently there is some sort of grasshopper plague?  Wait!  Frogs and grasshoppers, that's two plagues.), and I didn't have to wait for any gaggles of geese to finish crossing the path. 

I did miss the park though.  I missed watching the steam rise from the pond, the wildflowers waving in the breeze, the changing leaves, the breeze and even the older men walking dogs that can fit in my purse.  At the park, I can get lost in thought more which makes the time go faster (though probably not my pace).

The treadmill will help me reach my fitness goals.  I know I have the discipline to hop on every day and I don't have to go anywhere (like a gym) to work out (which is good because I have hermit tendencies) and as I explained above, walking on a treadmill and adjusting my ipod is not as easy as you might think so I don't have to embarrass myself in public as I master that new skill.   

Tomorrow I will sweat again.  And the day after that.  And the day after that.  Most of the time, I will use the torture device, but when time allows, I think I'll go back and visit the geese and the grasshoppers and sidestep the frogs. 

-Peace

One Perfect Word

Four letters. 

People struggle to define it because it has so much baggage attached. 

L-O-V-E

If it is so difficult to define, why do I call it perfect?

We give it, we take it, we fake it, we make it...L-O-V-E..

Love God, Love your neighbor.  To love is the greatest commandment.  Yet, somehow we lose that in translation, in reality, in humanity.  We forget we are called to love (whatever that is) and we say we are showing love by trying to teach, encourage comformity, share truth (often "in love", which so often is instead beating someone over the head with what one believes another "should" do or be.)

It is perfect because in the words of the Beatles, (and God) all you need is love.  1 Corinthians 13 was a reading at our wedding...  4"Love is patient.  Love is Kind... 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."  and then 8 Love never fails.  But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.  9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when perfection comes, the imperfect will disappear.''... 13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. 

L-O-V-E

Not my knowledge or understanding or belief system. 
L-O-V-E. 

Everything else can fall away and all that really matters is L-O-V-E.

I am guilty of being less than loving.  I make snarky comments.  I lack compassion at times.  I think harsh or judgemental thoughts.  I confess it to you today and I will surely commit these same sins again.  I don't want to, but I forget to just L-O-V-E sometimes. 

Casting Crowns sings a song, Here I Go Again (and they may not agree with the whole sentiment of this post but they don't have to...), "Father hear my prayer.  I need the perfect words, words that he will hear and know they're straight from You...So Maybe this time, I'll speak the words of life with Your fire in my eyes...But this might be my last chance to tell him that You love him..."

This morning I realized the only words of life I need to speak with fire in my eyes...are words of love.

 L-O-V-E.

Not "Woulda, shoulda, coulda."  Not "Be like me."  Not even, "Believe what I believe."  Just love.  I love you because you are a human being.  You are beautifully and wonderfully made.  You are loved just as you are. 

It's the one perfect word and the love doesn't come from me.  I am a vessel, the hands and feet.  Whether you believe in what I believe or not.  I believe it and so that love can pass through me. 

and that L-O-V-E passing through me...is perfect.

-Peace

Reclaiming My Awesome

A few weeks ago, a very hip mama friend (and when I say hip I mean hip, chic, cool, totally awesome) posted this link on her fb page.  I read it and then I linked it to my fb page and then...kept thinking about it. I kept thinking about finding my awesome.  Thinking about where I lost it and if I was *shudder* stealing my own kids' awesome.

And then...I had a fb (you see how the crackbook fb is a heavy part of my life, yes?) conversation with another rock star mommy friend of mine about being modest and she responded with something to the effect of, "If you aren't your own cheerleader, who will be?"

Hello!  I was a cheerleader in high school (back in the stone age when the cavemen played with a ball made of dinosaur skin. ;) ) But being my own cheerleader? Well, that just wasn't goin' on.  At some point I learned that "tooting my own horn" was very, very bad.  I waited for others to point out my gifts and even then, I struggled with accepting the compliments I so desperately craved.  I was taught, observed or through osmosis, got the message that humility was the way to go. (This is why the Husband calls me Ms. Medium...and he does not value the medium.  He values the awesome he sees within the confines of our home, when I actually speak my mind, have an opinion and claim the authoritative knowledge I posses through years of life and several thousands of dollars of degrees.)

Well, my friends...I have decided that I need to follow the advice of the rock star.  Instead of downplaying or ignoring the accomplishments, I need to embrace them.   Because, I have accomplished some amazing feats!  I am wearing some battle scars (after 6 kids, my abdomen is not concave as it was when I was 18) but I have achieved, seen and done a lot!  I have a long way to go but no more hiding my sparkly light under a bushel!  (Well, it may take baby steps. ;) )

So, I am reclaiming my awesome.  It may take me a while and I may need to reevaluate what my particular awesome is, but I am going to put my chin up and say, "Hey world!  I am ready to claim IT!"

So join me.  Look in the mirror and be your own best cheer leader and say, "You are awesome!"

(Btw...this is totally Biblical.  God gave each of us gifts and if we don't show them and share them, they're getting wasted!)

-Peace