Last fall the hub and I went on a getaway. He planned it, the entire thing, all I had to do was show up. It was great. Where we landed for a few nights was, unbeknownst to him, a really special place to me. Part of the charm of this place is the quiet. There are no TV's in the rooms, no guest noise, no noise at all really. The silence rushed in at us, assaulting our numbed senses. It felt almost painful at first. I loved it. It drove my hub insane. He was pacing the room, unable to allow the noise to settle him down. That is what drove me insane. :)
Have you ever been assaulted by silence? In today's noisy world, silence is rare. Even right now, as I write, there is 'silence' in our home but not really. I hear the noise of our DVR, our furnace just kicked on so I hear that as well. A minute ago some birds were cooing outside. But I would consider all those noises to be part of the most silent we get these days. But at our getaway there was none of that, well there were the birds. The silence drove my hub so nuts that we went to bed the first night at 7:30! He made himself sleep to escape the assault. I read on my Kindle in the dark. When I finally decided to sleep I laid there listening to the silence. Have you ever listened to silence? What do you hear?
Silence has its own sound. I hear a slight buzzing like sound. When I hear it I know I am listening to silence. What does your silence sound like?
In today's world of noise silence makes people uncomfortable, my hub proved that. Why did silence unsettle him? Why might it unsettle anyone? When did the disconnect between us and our inner self happen? The answer lies in the obvious. The more distractions, oh I'm sorry advances, technology offers the bigger the disconnect grows. The more noise that is offered the more silence is painful. Try this. Get to a silent as possible place. How long can you stand it? At a work staff meeting once a co-worker showed a video about, ironically, silence. Part of the video had you focus on being silent for up to 5 minutes. The clock was ticking and some people were shifting in their seats and the longer the minutes stretched the more shifting happened, and rustling of papers, and looking around to make faces at others, well you get the idea. It was fascinating to observe. Silence is not a comfort to us, we are discomforted by it.
A few years ago I was going through some stuff. It required me to settle down and be silent so I could hear what I needed to. I wasn't so sure it was actually working until one night when I got myself all situated and entered into a deliberate silence. In the silence I was able to see, in my mind's eye, a picture. I leaned in to it and I heard, through the silence, the story of that picture. It was a transforming moment and I wouldn't have had it without silence. Silence ushered me to truth. And it often does, which is why it is unsettling. We don't always like the truth, we can't always accept the truth, we won't always want to believe the truth. To avoid truth we fill up our days and nights with noise, refusing silence to have a place in us and open up truth. If we aren't addicted to drugs, alcohol, gambling, sex, or the many other addictions in this world then we are most likely addicted to noise, perhaps without even realizing it. It's so much a part of the "norm" that we don't look at it as an addiction or a numbing tool in our lives. If we feel assaulted by it then chances are good we are using it to keep silence away. The question is why. Why are we keeping silence from entering our lives? What do we think could happen if silence is allowed a place in our life? Are we afraid of silence and the truth it may reveal and why?
When was the last time you allowed silence to surround you? Maybe it's time to start listening to silence, who knows what you may hear in it that could change your life?
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*I may or may not have had the song by Simon & Garfunkel stuck in my head for days now due to writing this post! You're welcome. :)
*Here's a couple of articles I read in the past year that talk about silence as well. They are worth the read. We Need More Silence in Our Lives and 3 Ways to Add Quiet to Your Day
*Into Great Silence is a documentary that is...totally silent. It is fascinating. I highly recommend it. A friend of mine reviewed it back in the days when he was a movie critic and he exited the theater that was 100% silent for 162 minutes on to the busy New York City streets and felt assaulted! It's a fascinating look at silence.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Thursday, February 26, 2015
{shalom}
In my circles Shalom was always a word that 'those Jewish people' used, it wasn't for us evangelicals because we believed in Jesus and they didn't. Yes, I realize this makes no sense but I grew up in a Baptist church and us Baptist? Well, let's just say we don't know it all like I thought we did. Ha.
Fast forward a whole bunch of years to my 30's and my upending thanks be to God, literally. I still didn't know about Shalom except I thought it meant peace but wasn't quite sure. I'm not good with languages and it felt foreign on my tongue. I accepted it, however, as a word that people who believed in Jesus could also use. People, I was making some progress! And then scoot right up to about my year 38 on this planet. I had left traditional church, we mutually agreed we needed some time apart, and I was meeting with a group of like-hearted people in a home church setting. This particular group observes and celebrates the Biblical Festivals and Shalom was a word that is a normal part of their vocabulary. So I started trying it out. All these years I thought it meant peace (it does but more on that in a minute) but I had also heard mostly used as 'Aloha' is, a greeting and a farewell. Kind of like how we crass Americans say, 'Hey' for the same purposes. Now don't get all weirded out thinking that my little home church and I were beginning and ending our conversations with each other and others by 'shaloming.' I can honestly say that I don't believe I have ever once 'shalomed' someone in greeting or farewell. But if you want me to, I can start. *wink*
No, our use of shalom was focused on the peace. Shalom is peace but not just any kind of peace. Shalom is a deep peace that finds its way into every crack and crevice, that soaks in deep, that brings about wholeness and completeness. Shalom is a very complete peace. Jesus, my friends, he is shalom. And Jesus, my friends, wants us to experience that kind of shalom in our own lives and be so full of it that we spill it out on others and introduce them to true shalom as well.
When I first started grasping the depth of shalom I was reading a fantastic book by Tim Keller (Generous Justice) and in it he talked about shalom in a way that my heart finally clicked and locked into place with. Here's a few excerpts that resonated with me, upon reading this I 100% 'got it.'
Traditionally translated as “peace” in English it means much more than that. Peace in the English language means a period of time when there is no war or fighting. But when God uses shalom he doesn’t mean a period of time when there is no conflict, he means complete reconciliation. A state of the fullest flourishing in every dimension – physical, emotional, social, and spiritual – because all relationships are right, perfect, and filled with joy. (Generous Justice, Keller, page 174)
If we take those four dimensions – physical, emotional, social, and spiritual – and look at them with and without shalom as their foundation we can see quickly what shalom accomplishes in a person’s life and when shalom is lacking what happens.
Shalom is lost when our primal self-absorption leads to profound social evils – to war, crime, family breakdown, oppression, and injustice. The world is filled with hunger, sickness, aging, and physical death. Because our relationship with God has broken down, shalom is gone – spiritually, psychologically, socially, and physically. (Generous Justice, Keller, pages 176-177)
Shalom is applicable to all parts of life. The word is used for all parts of speech; as a noun, adjective, verb, adverb, and interjection. It categorizes all shaloms. (Source) Christ wants us to be touched with shalom in every way possible.
The idea of shalom, its lack and its place in my life, has been more on my heart and mind the past couple of years since I really got what it actually was. In the book I read by Keller he asked a question that applied to areas of social justice but could easily be, and should be, considered for personal life as well. We cannot pass on shalom if we do not possess it ourselves. He posed this question and asked the reader to ask it of themselves and of their communities, "Where has the fabric of shalom broken down? Those are the places I need to weave myself into to reweave and strengthen the fabric and restore it to shalom." (Generous Justice, Keller, page 177)
As 2014 was closing out and 2015 was starting to peek her head up I felt compelled by shalom to focus on shalom in this new year. So for the first time in my memory I decided to dedicate the calendar year to shalom. My family and I have had a rough couple of years. We've had some good moments for sure but overall? The fabric of shalom has broken down in us individually and then collectively. This year, in 2015 and beyond, I am asking God to restore shalom to my husband, my children, myself and to us as a family so we can then be his hands and feet to restore shalom to our local and global communities. I need the peace of shalom in my life in order to be the wife and mom, to be an employee and co-worker, to be a sister and a friend, in order to be a daughter and an Auntie.
What about you? Are there places in your life where the fabric of shalom has broken down and needs to be reweaved? Will you let that weaving take place for the purposes of wholeness?
May shalom be found in your life this year.
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Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Dear Teenager, I want you to know...
...that this moment you are living is not the whole of your life. It feels like it, I know. Oh do I know. You see, I was a teenager once as well. So were your parents. And while so much has changed about being a teenager this has not. This moment, this hard and yucky and distressing moment, is not the whole of your life. I'll even go so far as to say I promise it isn't.
Don't let this moment color your entire life. When the painting of your life is finished, this moment will be the tiniest speck of color, lost in the amazing life that waits for you. This moment might feel like a large blob of black dropped on to the canvas of your life but I promise you it isn't. Don't allow this moment to define your whole life, it doesn't have that kind of power as long as you don't give it that power. This moment is simply texture on the painting of your life and we all need some texture.
Put this moment in its proper place. Don't allow it to be bigger than it is, casting shadows on all the good things in your life right now. In fact one of the ways to diminish the false power of this moment is to verbalize and live out gratitude. When was the last time you truly did that? When was the last time you thanked your parents for letting you stay out with friends until 10 pm instead of complain that they wouldn't let you stay out until 10:15 pm? When was the last time you thanked your parents for providing food in the house instead of complain about not having your favorite snacks? Do you see what I mean? It's a matter of perspective and this moment needs to be put in its place. This moment is birthed from a lack of gratitude for what you do have and a sense of offense for what you think you need but haven't been provided. That's called entitlement and it will steal your soul and give you more of these moments than you should have.
Sometimes this moment is birthed from a true injustice. You still have the power to put it in its place and control it instead of it controlling you. Find someone to help you, you can't do things like this alone. There is no shame in needing some help, a guide, a mentor, someone with more life experience than you. There's no shame in it, in fact seeking help is one of the wisest things you will ever do.
This moment is temporary. It feels final. But it isn't. Even as soon as next year you will look back on it and shake your head at the feeble attempts to have power over you. It is only temporary, however, as long as you put it in its proper place. If you allow it to define you then it wins and you lose.
I've had moments. Moments born out of true injustice and moments because I lacked gratitude. Sometimes I still have moments but I know I cannot let them define me. One of my greatest desires is to see you learn that lesson sooner rather than later like I did. I wasted years, literally, of my life being defined by a moment or two. I don't want that for you. There's so much life to live, why let a moment spoil it? On the timeline of your life being a teenager is going to be a speck. Right now it feels momentous and like it covers such a large portion of your life. And it does, right now. But when you look back you'll see the reality of this time and these moments. There's so much more life to live and look forward to, don't let this moment derail you. Don't let this moment become so overwhelming that you think life can't be lived any longer. People who take their lives have been derailed by a moment. And sometimes they let moments build on top of one another until all they see are the blobs of black on the painting of their life. They can't see the color. But the color is there, I promise.
Dearest teenager, this moment, this hard and distressing moment, will pass. Take a nap, watch a comedy, list out what you are grateful for, take deep cleansing breaths, and recognize that the moment only has power as long as you let it. Have the hard conversations if that is what the moment requires, grab the hand of someone who won't let you go while you take control over this moment so it doesn't take control over you.
Don't let this moment have you, you are not this moment.
You are so much more.
Don't let this moment color your entire life. When the painting of your life is finished, this moment will be the tiniest speck of color, lost in the amazing life that waits for you. This moment might feel like a large blob of black dropped on to the canvas of your life but I promise you it isn't. Don't allow this moment to define your whole life, it doesn't have that kind of power as long as you don't give it that power. This moment is simply texture on the painting of your life and we all need some texture.
Put this moment in its proper place. Don't allow it to be bigger than it is, casting shadows on all the good things in your life right now. In fact one of the ways to diminish the false power of this moment is to verbalize and live out gratitude. When was the last time you truly did that? When was the last time you thanked your parents for letting you stay out with friends until 10 pm instead of complain that they wouldn't let you stay out until 10:15 pm? When was the last time you thanked your parents for providing food in the house instead of complain about not having your favorite snacks? Do you see what I mean? It's a matter of perspective and this moment needs to be put in its place. This moment is birthed from a lack of gratitude for what you do have and a sense of offense for what you think you need but haven't been provided. That's called entitlement and it will steal your soul and give you more of these moments than you should have.
Sometimes this moment is birthed from a true injustice. You still have the power to put it in its place and control it instead of it controlling you. Find someone to help you, you can't do things like this alone. There is no shame in needing some help, a guide, a mentor, someone with more life experience than you. There's no shame in it, in fact seeking help is one of the wisest things you will ever do.
This moment is temporary. It feels final. But it isn't. Even as soon as next year you will look back on it and shake your head at the feeble attempts to have power over you. It is only temporary, however, as long as you put it in its proper place. If you allow it to define you then it wins and you lose.
I've had moments. Moments born out of true injustice and moments because I lacked gratitude. Sometimes I still have moments but I know I cannot let them define me. One of my greatest desires is to see you learn that lesson sooner rather than later like I did. I wasted years, literally, of my life being defined by a moment or two. I don't want that for you. There's so much life to live, why let a moment spoil it? On the timeline of your life being a teenager is going to be a speck. Right now it feels momentous and like it covers such a large portion of your life. And it does, right now. But when you look back you'll see the reality of this time and these moments. There's so much more life to live and look forward to, don't let this moment derail you. Don't let this moment become so overwhelming that you think life can't be lived any longer. People who take their lives have been derailed by a moment. And sometimes they let moments build on top of one another until all they see are the blobs of black on the painting of their life. They can't see the color. But the color is there, I promise.
Dearest teenager, this moment, this hard and distressing moment, will pass. Take a nap, watch a comedy, list out what you are grateful for, take deep cleansing breaths, and recognize that the moment only has power as long as you let it. Have the hard conversations if that is what the moment requires, grab the hand of someone who won't let you go while you take control over this moment so it doesn't take control over you.
Don't let this moment have you, you are not this moment.
You are so much more.
Tuesday, February 03, 2015
Oh My Darlin'
Memories of Paul Ray Ashley
December 27, 1926 - January 4, 2015
The last time I saw him he wasn't quite sure who was in his room. But he knew he was supposed to know us so he pretended. I guess he didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings except we all knew that he wasn't quite sure who this group was. So we pretended also. Oh the things we do for loved ones. I helped him drink his water from a straw and he sucked at it greedily, making noises of appreciation. Someone had put golf on the TV and he was pretending to watch but he hates golf so when asked about it he exclaimed it was bullshit. We all snickered.
For at least two years I have been grieving the slow loss of this man that I grew up with, that my children were able to grow up with. He's been declining and it's been hard to watch. Because he knows he's connected to us all somehow he pretends to follow the conversations and know the people. But I know. I watch him. I watch him take in everyone with his eyes and try to pick up clues as to who people are from conversations. When he isn't confident of who someone is they get referred to as 'Lucky', in fact I don't remember the last time he called me by name. The only person he knows is his wife of 67 years, he never forgets her.
Years ago when his own Mama was declining, singing 1920's drunkard tunes and generally amusing everyone with her tunes, I remember holding her hand and realizing she and I had matching hands. Mine were a younger version of hers which meant they were also a younger version of his. When I look at my thumbs I see my Granny and now my Grandpa. I look at him and my Dad, next to one another, and see what I will look like as I grow older and toward the ages they are at.
In my younger years he smoked Camels. On our long summer trips in their motor home, affectionately named the Green Machine, I remember watching him store away all the cartons of Camels he bought for our trip. It never bothered me, the smoke, and to this day if I smell smoke I can usually tell if it is Camel brand and it doesn't bother me as much. Weird right? But he quit smoking when his body told him he had better stop or he wouldn't live long.
They lived on the edge of a ravine, tucked back in a wooded area. It was the best place. I loved that house. Grandpa had a riding lawn mower because there was so much area to cover. My brothers and I thought it was cool. So Grandpa taught us to drive it. We drove up and down their long driveway, collecting the mail for Grandma, and pretending we were grownups. Grandpa would stay in the garage tinkering around keeping an eye on us. His garage was tidy, organized. He had a workbench and I can distinctly remember how it would look lit up at nights he was working in there while we were running around their property playing in the dark. Sometimes when I think of my Grandpa I see him backlit by the light above the workbench, bending over, glasses perched on his nose, smoking a Camel, and tinkering, It's one of my fondest memories.
He had his flaws, as everyone does. He was racist and slightly male chauvinistic. But he was my Grandpa so I could forgive him these ideologies. When I was younger he would let me take sips of coffee and warn me it was going to stunt my growth. When I was older and getting my own coffee he switched from stunted growth tales to telling me it would turn my nipples black. Yes, yes he did. Scandalous! He would give me a knowing nod and wink when he watched my daughters drink some coffee. All I could do was shake my head and grin.
After his Mama passed he and Grandma moved to Colorado where all of us were. We resumed a family tradition of Saturday morning breakfast. I'm incredibly grateful for the years we were able to do that, my girls got to experience some of what I did as I grew up and they got to know their great-grandparents in a way a lot of kids don't. Saturday morning breakfasts were some of the best memories I will carry with me.
When I was little it was their house that was the "holiday home." It's where everyone landed for get togethers during holidays. My parents house became the "holiday home" once Grandpa and Grandma moved to Colorado. My Aunt and her husband would pick them up on their way and all four would arrive together. One Thanksgiving a very large group of us played a family favorite card game and about 2 am it ended. We laughed and laughed. We always played cards and dice when together, it was - it is - our thing. We did it with his Mama back in the day and have never stopped.
He fought in World War II. When the war ended he had to go to one of the concentration camps. I've never heard him utter a word about it, some things you see you just can't talk about. After his time in the service he became an engineer. He rose through the ranks of his company, ending up a VP before he retired. He was an incredibly smart man, his brain was like a machine. His company used Fireballs, the candy, as their trademark or signature. There were bowls of them all over their offices and he would bring home paper bags full of them. I grew up sucking on Fireballs and thinking that was normal, didn't everyone have a never ending supply of Fireballs to enjoy?
He kept busy after retirement. He built a pottery wheel and kiln and learned to throw clay. He tooled leather. He collected coins. He pulled out his art supplies and used them again. He played poker with his buddies once a month and went on trips with his metal detecting club. He probably annoyed Grandma too but I never heard about that. *grin*
When I was younger I remember watching him eat raisin bran with cranberry juice. I couldn't fathom it. Why would he do that? And then I learned that he had no sense of taste or smell due to an illness. Every time he sniffed appreciatively or exclaimed, "this tastes great" he was fooling around. He couldn't smell nor taste a thing!
Growing up my grandparents slept in two twin beds. I didn't understand why they would do that but then I discovered that at night they would push those beds together and separate them again in the morning. That always made my heart a bit warmer. One morning I remember laying in my own fold out bed across the hall from them and I could hear them murmuring and he was rubbing her back as they talked and woke up for the day. I love having that memory of them, really of him in his role as a husband. It was rare to see that side of him since he was my Grandpa.
He whistled all the time. And he would sing bits and pieces of songs at times. One song is at the forefront of my memories. He would whistle it and sing it. "Oh My Darling Clementine" is weaved into all my memories of Grandpa. Except only these words to the song, "Oh my darlin', oh my darlin', oh my darling Clementine..." I never realized any other words existed. Imagine my surprise when I finally figured out there were other words. *grin*
The last time I saw him he would burst into song at random times. I don't know the tunes he was singing then but it wasn't the one I was always used to hearing him whistle. I found myself leaning down to hug him and heard myself humming, "Oh my darlin', oh my darlin', oh my darling Clementine..."
In my younger years he smoked Camels. On our long summer trips in their motor home, affectionately named the Green Machine, I remember watching him store away all the cartons of Camels he bought for our trip. It never bothered me, the smoke, and to this day if I smell smoke I can usually tell if it is Camel brand and it doesn't bother me as much. Weird right? But he quit smoking when his body told him he had better stop or he wouldn't live long.
They lived on the edge of a ravine, tucked back in a wooded area. It was the best place. I loved that house. Grandpa had a riding lawn mower because there was so much area to cover. My brothers and I thought it was cool. So Grandpa taught us to drive it. We drove up and down their long driveway, collecting the mail for Grandma, and pretending we were grownups. Grandpa would stay in the garage tinkering around keeping an eye on us. His garage was tidy, organized. He had a workbench and I can distinctly remember how it would look lit up at nights he was working in there while we were running around their property playing in the dark. Sometimes when I think of my Grandpa I see him backlit by the light above the workbench, bending over, glasses perched on his nose, smoking a Camel, and tinkering, It's one of my fondest memories.
He had his flaws, as everyone does. He was racist and slightly male chauvinistic. But he was my Grandpa so I could forgive him these ideologies. When I was younger he would let me take sips of coffee and warn me it was going to stunt my growth. When I was older and getting my own coffee he switched from stunted growth tales to telling me it would turn my nipples black. Yes, yes he did. Scandalous! He would give me a knowing nod and wink when he watched my daughters drink some coffee. All I could do was shake my head and grin.
After his Mama passed he and Grandma moved to Colorado where all of us were. We resumed a family tradition of Saturday morning breakfast. I'm incredibly grateful for the years we were able to do that, my girls got to experience some of what I did as I grew up and they got to know their great-grandparents in a way a lot of kids don't. Saturday morning breakfasts were some of the best memories I will carry with me.
When I was little it was their house that was the "holiday home." It's where everyone landed for get togethers during holidays. My parents house became the "holiday home" once Grandpa and Grandma moved to Colorado. My Aunt and her husband would pick them up on their way and all four would arrive together. One Thanksgiving a very large group of us played a family favorite card game and about 2 am it ended. We laughed and laughed. We always played cards and dice when together, it was - it is - our thing. We did it with his Mama back in the day and have never stopped.
He fought in World War II. When the war ended he had to go to one of the concentration camps. I've never heard him utter a word about it, some things you see you just can't talk about. After his time in the service he became an engineer. He rose through the ranks of his company, ending up a VP before he retired. He was an incredibly smart man, his brain was like a machine. His company used Fireballs, the candy, as their trademark or signature. There were bowls of them all over their offices and he would bring home paper bags full of them. I grew up sucking on Fireballs and thinking that was normal, didn't everyone have a never ending supply of Fireballs to enjoy?
He kept busy after retirement. He built a pottery wheel and kiln and learned to throw clay. He tooled leather. He collected coins. He pulled out his art supplies and used them again. He played poker with his buddies once a month and went on trips with his metal detecting club. He probably annoyed Grandma too but I never heard about that. *grin*
When I was younger I remember watching him eat raisin bran with cranberry juice. I couldn't fathom it. Why would he do that? And then I learned that he had no sense of taste or smell due to an illness. Every time he sniffed appreciatively or exclaimed, "this tastes great" he was fooling around. He couldn't smell nor taste a thing!
Growing up my grandparents slept in two twin beds. I didn't understand why they would do that but then I discovered that at night they would push those beds together and separate them again in the morning. That always made my heart a bit warmer. One morning I remember laying in my own fold out bed across the hall from them and I could hear them murmuring and he was rubbing her back as they talked and woke up for the day. I love having that memory of them, really of him in his role as a husband. It was rare to see that side of him since he was my Grandpa.
He whistled all the time. And he would sing bits and pieces of songs at times. One song is at the forefront of my memories. He would whistle it and sing it. "Oh My Darling Clementine" is weaved into all my memories of Grandpa. Except only these words to the song, "Oh my darlin', oh my darlin', oh my darling Clementine..." I never realized any other words existed. Imagine my surprise when I finally figured out there were other words. *grin*
The last time I saw him he would burst into song at random times. I don't know the tunes he was singing then but it wasn't the one I was always used to hearing him whistle. I found myself leaning down to hug him and heard myself humming, "Oh my darlin', oh my darlin', oh my darling Clementine..."
Wednesday, January 07, 2015
Tangled Webs
The thing about tangled webs is eventually they get destroyed. Someone may innocently pick at part of your tangled mess of lies and begin the unraveling process. Or perhaps someone starts purposely picking at part of your tangled web because they are suspicious. Once one person starts picking it is only a matter of time before others can, and will, pick at other parts of the web and before we know it our tangled web of deception has been exposed and lies upon lies are revealed.
The interesting thing about our practiced deception is at some point we begin to believe the lies we are telling others and ourselves. We lose our sensitivity to truth. Once we begin to believe our own lies we start to justify our lies. We allow our deception to become our defense. We create more tangles in our web with the justifications we have to use in order to keep up the tangle we've gotten ourselves into. But once that picking begins and the unraveling starts we find ourselves frantic, making mistakes, telling lies that are no longer believable, backing away from people and trying to extricate ourselves before all is revealed. But the unraveling of our tangled web takes on a momentum of its own and we will not escape our practiced deception and the consequences of it. We will be required to face the fallout, feel the consequences, and be called into account for who we have hurt and the damage we have done.
Part of the tangled web of deception is a false belief that what we do and say affects nobody but us. That's just another lie we tell ourselves. Deception always affects others, always. Those who have unknowingly, and unwillingly, been tangled up in the web will be hurt, feel betrayed, have anger, vacillate between disbelief and belief, and a whole host of other emotions. There will even be those who aren't tangled up in the web that get hurt. Those just outside of the tangled mess can be affected as well. The potential for them to feel the same degree of hurt, betrayal, anger, disbelief is real and almost certain.
Webs, transparent or opaque, all start the same way. They start with a spun word and grow from there. It is our choice whether the web is well spun or becomes a tangled mess.
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Sanctuary
About 2 miles off the road and hidden against the mountain is a sanctuary. I first drove onto the grounds of this sanctuary when I was 16, newly licensed and needing to find a job. The circles I ran in brought word of an opening in the King James Dining Room at Glen Eyrie, a local castle serving as a retreat and conference center and owned by The Navigator's. I suppose I filled out an application, perhaps had an interview, I'm sure appropriate tax forms were filled out. I remember none of that. I only remember the early mornings and late nights driving the winding roads to the castle, exiting the hustle and bustle of Colorado Springs and entering the stillness, silence, and calm of Glen Eyrie. I adored it. Even though I was coming to work I felt like I was entering into a peaceful place. The reality is, I was. Glen Eyrie is magic. The further off of 31st Street you get and the closer the castle appears the more its magic weaves itself into the air you breathe.
I worked in the King James Dining Room for approximately 2 1/2 years. In that time I served countless groups of people breakfast, lunch, dinner. I got to participate in serving at the Madrigal Dinner the Castle hosts each year at Christmas time. It was the perfect first job. My favorite times to be on the winding dark roads of Glen Eyrie were in the early mornings. I would turn off my radio as I went through the front gate and I would let the silence and magic of The Glen seep into my car and my being. I didn't really recognize it then as I do now, but it was as if my soul was taking a deep breath.
Throughout the years since I have been fortunate enough to visit The Glen on and off, mostly for day retreats and once for a place of retreat as depression weighed on my heart. Years ago as God was leading me through some necessary closure in my life, I stole on to the grounds and sat beneath a large tree in the expanse of grass and found the closure I needed to move forward. Sometimes you don't realize how important a place is until you almost lose it.
In the summer of 2012 the Waldo Canyon fire ate its way through some of our closer mountains, took a local landmark, The Flying W Ranch, and destroyed a large portion of a neighborhood that sat against the mountain the fire jumped to. Anxiously watching the fire inch closer and closer to Glen Eyrie, they finally had to evacuate and pray. There was nothing more to be done. Fire teams were doing all they could to beat the fire into submission but it had a mind of its own and where it went they just had to follow and try to contain. When all was said and done, Glen Eyrie was safe. Just barely. If you look up at the ridge right above the castle you see scorched trees and a clear line where the fire ceased burning down the mountain. Glen Eyrie had been spared. As a community we breathed a sigh of relief. We had already lost the Flying W and to the lose The Glen in addition to that plus all the homes felt like too much. It already was too much for our shocked and soot covered hearts.
A month ago my hub whisked me away for a surprise weekend. I was told to pack comfy and casual, that's all I knew. I was so intrigued, where could we be going? And then he turned off of 31st Street and began to wind his way toward the front gate of The Glen. Oh my. My heart stilled, I grabbed his hand. "Really? We are staying here this weekend?" Really, we were. What a true gift. I'm not sure he knew how important this place was to my heart. It was a sanctuary for me. We stepped out of the car at the Carriage House to check in. And the magic of The Glen was already working on me. The silence and calm of it was the first thing to hit my senses as we exited the car. I felt my soul take a deep breath.
It was a glorious weekend. The weather was the last perfect weather we were going to have for quite some time, my hub and I needed this time alone after some rough years of marriage and parenting and so the company was fantastic, the cabin room he reserved for us was in one of the more special cabins on the property and was an amazing retreat space for us. The front porch of the cabin has these huge wooden swings and we spent time, silently holding hands and rocking, on that porch. After breakfast the first morning we were debating where to walk and how to spend our day. Walking out the front door of the castle my eye caught a stand of sorts. Curious I walked to it and saw that The Glen had created a prayer walk through its grounds and this was one of the stops. The weather
was incredible, I was reluctant to be indoors. We had eaten a great breakfast but needed to walk it off and we had no plans at all for the day. So the hub and I walked the grounds of The Glen according to the prayer walk and spent time communing with one another and with God. We took our time, enjoying the weather, the grounds, the peace of The Glen, the prayer with each other and with the Lord. I saw the magic of The Glen begin to work on my hub and it led to good and important conversation. We began to feel a sense of ease that we hadn't felt in quite some time. After many hours of the amazing weather and prayer time around the property we took a nap and knew we would need to leave that evening for a brief time to get some dinner. I was reluctant to leave, even for just an hour or two. My soul was enjoying the peace and the quiet and I was feeling hesitant about reentering into the hustle of life. I had reconnected that day with my sanctuary and wanted to take full advantage of our time there.
Throughout the day I kept looking up at the ridge where the fire threatened to roll down the mountain and consume such a special place. I couldn't help but feel emotional, realizing how close I and so many others came to losing such a magical place. I also kept thinking of the middle ages custom of claiming "sanctuary" from legal action and from enemies. The church back then would honor the person and assist them in making restitution or in escaping from a danger on their life. I thought about how these days the church is no longer the sanctuary it should be. People come for help, healing, and hope and instead are shunned, judged, and left open to more injury. No longer can we really enter a structure that calls itself a church or house of God and claim sanctuary. God alone, in his presence, is the only place that we can claim sanctuary and know that we will receive it. The Glen was my sanctuary. The Glen is my sanctuary. It is where I feel the deepest connection to God, most likely because of the magic of it. Peace, calm, silence, and serenity blanket me from the moment I turn off of 31st Street.
When we finally left Glen Eyrie that weekend to head for home I was refreshed in my spirit, hopeful that my hub was as well, but not ready for the noise of life which I knew would assault our senses as we turned on to 31st Street. I prepared by reminding myself that the place I claim sanctuary is always a short car drive away and I can always be in the presence of God and his peace because he lives in me. Later that night we were at home, our redheads were chattering, the television was on, and my hub turned to me and said, "Can we go back?"
I worked in the King James Dining Room for approximately 2 1/2 years. In that time I served countless groups of people breakfast, lunch, dinner. I got to participate in serving at the Madrigal Dinner the Castle hosts each year at Christmas time. It was the perfect first job. My favorite times to be on the winding dark roads of Glen Eyrie were in the early mornings. I would turn off my radio as I went through the front gate and I would let the silence and magic of The Glen seep into my car and my being. I didn't really recognize it then as I do now, but it was as if my soul was taking a deep breath.
A month ago my hub whisked me away for a surprise weekend. I was told to pack comfy and casual, that's all I knew. I was so intrigued, where could we be going? And then he turned off of 31st Street and began to wind his way toward the front gate of The Glen. Oh my. My heart stilled, I grabbed his hand. "Really? We are staying here this weekend?" Really, we were. What a true gift. I'm not sure he knew how important this place was to my heart. It was a sanctuary for me. We stepped out of the car at the Carriage House to check in. And the magic of The Glen was already working on me. The silence and calm of it was the first thing to hit my senses as we exited the car. I felt my soul take a deep breath.
It was a glorious weekend. The weather was the last perfect weather we were going to have for quite some time, my hub and I needed this time alone after some rough years of marriage and parenting and so the company was fantastic, the cabin room he reserved for us was in one of the more special cabins on the property and was an amazing retreat space for us. The front porch of the cabin has these huge wooden swings and we spent time, silently holding hands and rocking, on that porch. After breakfast the first morning we were debating where to walk and how to spend our day. Walking out the front door of the castle my eye caught a stand of sorts. Curious I walked to it and saw that The Glen had created a prayer walk through its grounds and this was one of the stops. The weather
Throughout the day I kept looking up at the ridge where the fire threatened to roll down the mountain and consume such a special place. I couldn't help but feel emotional, realizing how close I and so many others came to losing such a magical place. I also kept thinking of the middle ages custom of claiming "sanctuary" from legal action and from enemies. The church back then would honor the person and assist them in making restitution or in escaping from a danger on their life. I thought about how these days the church is no longer the sanctuary it should be. People come for help, healing, and hope and instead are shunned, judged, and left open to more injury. No longer can we really enter a structure that calls itself a church or house of God and claim sanctuary. God alone, in his presence, is the only place that we can claim sanctuary and know that we will receive it. The Glen was my sanctuary. The Glen is my sanctuary. It is where I feel the deepest connection to God, most likely because of the magic of it. Peace, calm, silence, and serenity blanket me from the moment I turn off of 31st Street.
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Showing Up For My Life
Today my eyes cracked open and I saw the time and I groaned. I literally had to pep talk myself out of bed this morning and I heard myself say, "Beth, show up for your life today." SIGH. And another part of me replied back, "I'm not sure I can." SIGH. After a few minutes of back and forth I dragged myself out of bed and tried to engage with the new day.
It's a hard time of year for me. Getting dark around 5 pm certainly doesn't help. I feel like I need to go into hibernation mode along with the bears. Frankly I feel a little jealous of them. I mean, I've stored up the fat already. A few weeks ago I read this fascinating article about a guy in Maine who had lived as a hermit for almost 30 years. I confess, I was a little envious of his ability to pull it off. Although I would have picked someplace warmer to seclude myself from society. A couple of the Maine winters almost killed him.
It seems to me that one day the hermit woke up in his real life and heard, "Show up for your life today," and he couldn't. Maybe he didn't even try to pep talk himself into showing up. So he went into hibernation mode instead. While I feel envious, I also know I can't do that. That isn't healthy. I need to continue to engage with humans and responsibilities. I need to be brave enough to continue to face hard things and wrestle through them. I need to work through mistakes and flaws. I need to set myself aside and be there for others. But lately I've had to do a lot of pep talking to get myself out of the house.
Depression is a tricky thing. I think I might be handling it okay and then BAM! It's got me in a half nelson and I'm headed toward a face plant on the mat called life. Last year I didn't think I would need meds again, I thought I had enough tools to help me combat the depression going that far in me. I was wrong. So I went back to my doctor, found a counselor, and started again.
Depression keeps me in a place of humility and gratefulness. Yes, gratefulness. That hasn't changed with this go round of black clouds. One of the things that I am grateful for is the humility it is developing in me. It keeps me from judging others harshly, and it keeps me sensitive toward those who are struggling.
For the past couple of months the idea of showing up for my life has exhausted me. Just thinking about the energy it will take to get into a shower, get dressed, get into the car and drive makes me want to go back to bed. But I'm fighting. I'm fighting to stay present in my life. It's the reason why I force myself to go to certain social events, why I extend past myself to others, why I continue to read books and write and leave voice messages for people on What's App. Having the voices of people who love me despite me in my world, even though they are miles away, motivates me to stay engaged in my life. I'm fighting to stay present in my life by continuing to look for more ways to assist at work, if I weren't fighting to stay present I would be doing the bare minimum to get by. But I know I need to engage so I'm learning new things, volunteering for things, and remaining pro-active. And I'm exhausted. Showing up for my life is exhausting but I'm doing it as best I can in this season.
And where I just don't have the energy to show up and participate my husband has stepped in and taken it on. He's been doing the grocery shopping among other things. He's generous in giving me space to show up and participate in a time frame that won't freak me out.
Showing up for life takes courage. Some days it feels impossible, other days it's rather easy. But I believe it takes courage every day no matter what to show up and participate in this life we've each been given. And it is a choice. We have a choice about first of all, showing up and then secondly, participating. I've showed up a social events or meetings but not participated, so while my physical body is present I am mentally and emotionally absent. Maybe that's okay every now and then but it shouldn't be the norm.
Have you been showing up for your life? More importantly, have you been participating once you make an appearance? What might be keeping you from engaging in life? Are there things you can change or do differently to prompt action? Or maybe it's not you having a tough time appearing in your life, maybe it's someone you know. How could you help them? Encourage them?
It's a hard time of year for me. Getting dark around 5 pm certainly doesn't help. I feel like I need to go into hibernation mode along with the bears. Frankly I feel a little jealous of them. I mean, I've stored up the fat already. A few weeks ago I read this fascinating article about a guy in Maine who had lived as a hermit for almost 30 years. I confess, I was a little envious of his ability to pull it off. Although I would have picked someplace warmer to seclude myself from society. A couple of the Maine winters almost killed him.
It seems to me that one day the hermit woke up in his real life and heard, "Show up for your life today," and he couldn't. Maybe he didn't even try to pep talk himself into showing up. So he went into hibernation mode instead. While I feel envious, I also know I can't do that. That isn't healthy. I need to continue to engage with humans and responsibilities. I need to be brave enough to continue to face hard things and wrestle through them. I need to work through mistakes and flaws. I need to set myself aside and be there for others. But lately I've had to do a lot of pep talking to get myself out of the house.
Depression is a tricky thing. I think I might be handling it okay and then BAM! It's got me in a half nelson and I'm headed toward a face plant on the mat called life. Last year I didn't think I would need meds again, I thought I had enough tools to help me combat the depression going that far in me. I was wrong. So I went back to my doctor, found a counselor, and started again.
Depression keeps me in a place of humility and gratefulness. Yes, gratefulness. That hasn't changed with this go round of black clouds. One of the things that I am grateful for is the humility it is developing in me. It keeps me from judging others harshly, and it keeps me sensitive toward those who are struggling.
For the past couple of months the idea of showing up for my life has exhausted me. Just thinking about the energy it will take to get into a shower, get dressed, get into the car and drive makes me want to go back to bed. But I'm fighting. I'm fighting to stay present in my life. It's the reason why I force myself to go to certain social events, why I extend past myself to others, why I continue to read books and write and leave voice messages for people on What's App. Having the voices of people who love me despite me in my world, even though they are miles away, motivates me to stay engaged in my life. I'm fighting to stay present in my life by continuing to look for more ways to assist at work, if I weren't fighting to stay present I would be doing the bare minimum to get by. But I know I need to engage so I'm learning new things, volunteering for things, and remaining pro-active. And I'm exhausted. Showing up for my life is exhausting but I'm doing it as best I can in this season.
And where I just don't have the energy to show up and participate my husband has stepped in and taken it on. He's been doing the grocery shopping among other things. He's generous in giving me space to show up and participate in a time frame that won't freak me out.
Showing up for life takes courage. Some days it feels impossible, other days it's rather easy. But I believe it takes courage every day no matter what to show up and participate in this life we've each been given. And it is a choice. We have a choice about first of all, showing up and then secondly, participating. I've showed up a social events or meetings but not participated, so while my physical body is present I am mentally and emotionally absent. Maybe that's okay every now and then but it shouldn't be the norm.
Have you been showing up for your life? More importantly, have you been participating once you make an appearance? What might be keeping you from engaging in life? Are there things you can change or do differently to prompt action? Or maybe it's not you having a tough time appearing in your life, maybe it's someone you know. How could you help them? Encourage them?
Sunday, October 05, 2014
Okay, you "win" this one.
It's not a competition. Or rather it shouldn't be. Who wants to win at having the hardest life?
Kara, over at Mundane Faithfulness, has often said, "I'm not trying to win the hardest story. We all have hard." She's right, we all do have hard in our lives. We all walk through hard things and what is hard for us may not be hard for another. Grace enters in when we can empathize with someone's hard that we may not understand. Kara also doesn't allow others hard to be diminished in light of her hard. Oh, I should mention that Kara is dying. In June 2012 she was diagnosed with breast cancer and even though they have done aggressive treatments the cancer has traveled her body and is invading even her skeletal structure. Kara knows hard. She has a husband and four children she is preparing to live life without her physical presence. She has had to go through the grieving process, grieving over the loss of the life she dreamed of and desired and accepting the one she lives. The other day Kara asked a good question in response to the statement, "I would like my life back!" She asked, "What if this is your life? Would God still be good? I know- I'm such a jerk for saying this. I have to ask this question of myself regularly." I can't think of anyone else who deserves to be wrestling with that question more than Kara right now. She is honest in her wrestling but her final answer always ends up being yes, God is still good even though she will not get to watch her children grow up and she won't get to grow old with the husband she adores.
Yes, Kara knows hard. But we all know hard don't we?
Here's what the reality of our hards could be and perhaps should be. Philippians 2:4 says to look out not only for our own interests but to look out for the interests of others as well. In my hard I am going to be aware and concerned for your hard and focus on meeting the needs of your hard, trusting and knowing that someone else will be doing the same for me in my hard. See how that works? We get taken care of. When we allow the interests of others to be our interest as well then our personal interests get the attention of someone else's care. Sometimes our hard limits us in how we can meet the needs of someone else's hard. That's when it is time to get creative. We all have a capacity to meet the hard of others, it just might take some extra creativity.
Recently I was thinking about another benefit of being aware of other's hards. It gives our hard some perspective. Hear me, it doesn't diminish it just puts it into perspective. And in my experience we all need our hard to have perspective. And sometimes what happens with perspective is I look at my hard and their hard and I say, "Okay you "win" this one. Your hard is way harder than mine. What else or what more can I do for you in this hard? My hard can wait, it's not as urgent." I look at Philippians 2:4 and see this concession as another way of looking out for the interests of others. And sometimes, okay maybe most of the time, as we concede our hard and dedicate ourselves to the hard of another then ours loses its urgency, its power, the grasp that has us in a tight fist loosens. When we eventually return to our hard, because we always need to return to it and deal with it, we have different eyes and a different mindset toward it. Perhaps we even have a renewed strength to tackle it.
What if the hard you are experiencing right now is the new normal for your life? What does that mean for you? For your family? For your friendships? For your career? Are you so immersed in your hard that you can't see the hard of the person near you? Is this a season for you to focus in on the hard of someone else or your own? Who is "winning" for the harder hard in your circles? Can you trust that as you minister to the hard of someone else that your own hard will be ministered to as well?
Hear me once again, I am not diminishing the hard of anyone but I'm challenging all of us to gain perspective of our hards so we can both minister and be ministered to. What would be different about our hards if we could find peace, hard peace, in them?
Kara, over at Mundane Faithfulness, has often said, "I'm not trying to win the hardest story. We all have hard." She's right, we all do have hard in our lives. We all walk through hard things and what is hard for us may not be hard for another. Grace enters in when we can empathize with someone's hard that we may not understand. Kara also doesn't allow others hard to be diminished in light of her hard. Oh, I should mention that Kara is dying. In June 2012 she was diagnosed with breast cancer and even though they have done aggressive treatments the cancer has traveled her body and is invading even her skeletal structure. Kara knows hard. She has a husband and four children she is preparing to live life without her physical presence. She has had to go through the grieving process, grieving over the loss of the life she dreamed of and desired and accepting the one she lives. The other day Kara asked a good question in response to the statement, "I would like my life back!" She asked, "What if this is your life? Would God still be good? I know- I'm such a jerk for saying this. I have to ask this question of myself regularly." I can't think of anyone else who deserves to be wrestling with that question more than Kara right now. She is honest in her wrestling but her final answer always ends up being yes, God is still good even though she will not get to watch her children grow up and she won't get to grow old with the husband she adores.
Yes, Kara knows hard. But we all know hard don't we?
Here's what the reality of our hards could be and perhaps should be. Philippians 2:4 says to look out not only for our own interests but to look out for the interests of others as well. In my hard I am going to be aware and concerned for your hard and focus on meeting the needs of your hard, trusting and knowing that someone else will be doing the same for me in my hard. See how that works? We get taken care of. When we allow the interests of others to be our interest as well then our personal interests get the attention of someone else's care. Sometimes our hard limits us in how we can meet the needs of someone else's hard. That's when it is time to get creative. We all have a capacity to meet the hard of others, it just might take some extra creativity.
Recently I was thinking about another benefit of being aware of other's hards. It gives our hard some perspective. Hear me, it doesn't diminish it just puts it into perspective. And in my experience we all need our hard to have perspective. And sometimes what happens with perspective is I look at my hard and their hard and I say, "Okay you "win" this one. Your hard is way harder than mine. What else or what more can I do for you in this hard? My hard can wait, it's not as urgent." I look at Philippians 2:4 and see this concession as another way of looking out for the interests of others. And sometimes, okay maybe most of the time, as we concede our hard and dedicate ourselves to the hard of another then ours loses its urgency, its power, the grasp that has us in a tight fist loosens. When we eventually return to our hard, because we always need to return to it and deal with it, we have different eyes and a different mindset toward it. Perhaps we even have a renewed strength to tackle it.
What if the hard you are experiencing right now is the new normal for your life? What does that mean for you? For your family? For your friendships? For your career? Are you so immersed in your hard that you can't see the hard of the person near you? Is this a season for you to focus in on the hard of someone else or your own? Who is "winning" for the harder hard in your circles? Can you trust that as you minister to the hard of someone else that your own hard will be ministered to as well?
Hear me once again, I am not diminishing the hard of anyone but I'm challenging all of us to gain perspective of our hards so we can both minister and be ministered to. What would be different about our hards if we could find peace, hard peace, in them?
Monday, September 08, 2014
Yep, I'm a hoarder. Are you?
Ever watch an episode of Hoarders? It is fascinating. Usually after an episode I am ancy, looking around my house wondering what I can get rid of or what can I clean. Watching it certainly prompts introspection on my part.
I know, for me, part of what is fascinating about Hoarders is the psychology behind it. The attempts to bury and hide deep wounds, hurts, betrayals, and insecurities. The attempt to cover up the dysfunction of self and other relationships. The distortion of something that at first seemed good on the surface.
I've been thinking about hoarding recently in ways that aren't often talked about or viewed as hoarding. Such as this trend of Extreme Couponing. Have you heard about it? Women, mostly, go coupon crazy and basically stockpile food, household items, and hygiene products and get them for cheap because of their "savvy" use of coupons and store deals and rebates. Here's a sample of what this stockpile ends up looking like in homes:
But I'm not stopping there. That was just the introduction to the kind of hoarding that I have really been thinking about! But if anything in that introduction made you pause and think then I'm glad. Stockpiling through sales and extreme couponing isn't as frugal as you may be led to believe, it breeds a greed.
I was thinking about the issues I have spent the last decade working through. For a long time I hung on to my people pleasing ways, to my attempts at perfectionism, to my need to be needed. You might say I hoarded those unhealthy mindsets and behaviors. Hoarding those things led to an accumulation of unforgiveness for people who had hurt me, an unwillingness to be vulnerable, I built walls around me so that nobody could see I wasn't perfect (don't even go there, yes I know that was obvious even with the walls!), I allowed my heart to be cluttered with lies like I wasn't worth it, I was useless, I had no value, I was too much and not enough all at once, I collected shame from mistakes I had made and let them pile up. The hoard grew and grew and as more lies piled on top of each other things began to rot in my life. I emitted a stench from my heart, and therefore life, all of my clutter and accumulation of unhealthy mindsets and behaviors kept people at more than arm's length and fostered relationships in which people saw opportunities to take advantage of me. People, I was a hot mess.
Hoarders are hot messes. Sometimes they know it, sometimes they don't. But the people around them, if anyone is left, always knows how much of a hot mess the hoarder is. Yet oftentimes they are unable to get through to their hoarder. It takes outside help. On the show Hoarders they bring in an organizer, a psychologist, and a team of worker bees. When I could no longer contain my hoard to the depths of myself I needed outside help. To try and clean up the hoard on my own was going to be a disaster. Insisting on doing by myself would have been pride at its best. Pride only adds more clutter to the hoard. It takes humility to invite someone else into the hoard, pride keeps us from issuing the invitation.
When the right people are invited into the hoard things become even more painful because as people come in and see the extent of the hoard and what kind of damage it has caused they want to get rid of things. Easy for them, they aren't emotionally attached to the hoard! And that's exactly why it becomes even more painful. The outside help has perspective the hoarder can't have. It becomes a battle and can lead to tears, anger, and frustration. The options are either give up and continue to live in the filth of the hoard or fight through the anger and frustration and clear out the hoard.
Hoarders want to go through everything to see what they feel comfortable getting rid of. One of the reasons they are considered a hoarder is because they don't feel comfortable getting rid of anything! The thought of parting with the moldy, mildewed, damaged, broken, filthy object introduces a panic attack. It makes no sense to anyone but them. That's why outside help is critical. Outside help can help the hoarder figure out the root of that panic and how to address it in healthier ways.
I can relate.
For example, when it came time for me to start clearing out the people pleasing in my life I had a lot of panic attacks. "I can't say no to that person, what if they will hate me then? I can't have anyone hating me" or "I can't say no to that task, people will think I am lazy." Or a bunch of other excuses for why I was allowing others to use me as their personal doormat. Saying "no" was tough. Anticipating the disappointment and potential anger of the person I was "letting down" had me in a constant state of anxiety. It made no sense. I knew in my head that saying "no" was okay and healthy but my heart didn't agree. I had to learn how to bridge the gap between my head and my heart and some days that 18 inches might as well have been 1000 miles. But the more I said "no" the more my heart began to connect to my head and the smaller that hoard pile named "people pleasing" became.
Once hoarded piles are removed and addressed there's all this space. Wide open spaces that convey freedom, suddenly it feels like deep breaths can be taken, there's room for healthy things. And you wonder, why did I ever let it get *that* bad?
A lot of hoarders start out by collecting something or purchasing something because "someday I'm going to work on that". It's never an intentional act to create walls of stuff around them, spend money they don't have on things they don't need, hang on to trash, allow food to rot, etc. Nobody grows up and says, "I want to be a hoarder someday." All of it is to cover up their hearts, it's a way to distance themselves from whatever the hurt is. And we all do that. But some of us do that in ways that aren't as visible as the hoarder of a home.
I have unknowingly hoarded good things. By hoarding and abusing those things or people I twisted them from a good thing to a damaging thing in my life. I allowed my unhealthy mindsets to distort the good and turn it into bad. We all do this, not one of us is exempt. Maybe we haven't recognized it yet but we all do it with something or someone in our lives.
Are there any behaviors, mindsets, emotions, or situations that you have hoarded and you know that the stench of them is keeping people at arm's length? That the filth of them might be interfering with your career? Have you wondered why relationships are only skimming the surface of your life and not going deeper? Hoard piles and walls don't allow for depth and ease of movement.
Dear Hoarder, I understand. I really, really do. Don't let pride fool you into thinking you can clear out the hoard on your own. Invite someone into it. As embarrassing as it may feel, issue an invitation to someone and begin to clear out the hoard in your life so that you can live in freedom.
I know, for me, part of what is fascinating about Hoarders is the psychology behind it. The attempts to bury and hide deep wounds, hurts, betrayals, and insecurities. The attempt to cover up the dysfunction of self and other relationships. The distortion of something that at first seemed good on the surface.
I've been thinking about hoarding recently in ways that aren't often talked about or viewed as hoarding. Such as this trend of Extreme Couponing. Have you heard about it? Women, mostly, go coupon crazy and basically stockpile food, household items, and hygiene products and get them for cheap because of their "savvy" use of coupons and store deals and rebates. Here's a sample of what this stockpile ends up looking like in homes:
Um. Basically that is organized hoarding.
Here's a picture of unorganized hoarding:
For some reason when someone can organize their hoard and they have, in theory, saved a lot of money acquiring their hoard we call it a good thing or a frugal thing. But when their hoard is in disarray and they live in squalor then we call it a bad thing. But they are the SAME thing. Both kinds of people are hoarding. In fact, I may go so far as to say the "extreme couponing" people are the worst offenders in this. Why would I say that? Because the coupon clippers don't see their hoarding as a problem, they mask it with frugality, saving money, etc. Regular hoarders at least recognize on some level that there is a problem. Both kinds of hoarding are a kind of greed, a type of insecurity, an obsession that interferes with relationships and emotional/mental health.
I was thinking about the issues I have spent the last decade working through. For a long time I hung on to my people pleasing ways, to my attempts at perfectionism, to my need to be needed. You might say I hoarded those unhealthy mindsets and behaviors. Hoarding those things led to an accumulation of unforgiveness for people who had hurt me, an unwillingness to be vulnerable, I built walls around me so that nobody could see I wasn't perfect (don't even go there, yes I know that was obvious even with the walls!), I allowed my heart to be cluttered with lies like I wasn't worth it, I was useless, I had no value, I was too much and not enough all at once, I collected shame from mistakes I had made and let them pile up. The hoard grew and grew and as more lies piled on top of each other things began to rot in my life. I emitted a stench from my heart, and therefore life, all of my clutter and accumulation of unhealthy mindsets and behaviors kept people at more than arm's length and fostered relationships in which people saw opportunities to take advantage of me. People, I was a hot mess.
Hoarders are hot messes. Sometimes they know it, sometimes they don't. But the people around them, if anyone is left, always knows how much of a hot mess the hoarder is. Yet oftentimes they are unable to get through to their hoarder. It takes outside help. On the show Hoarders they bring in an organizer, a psychologist, and a team of worker bees. When I could no longer contain my hoard to the depths of myself I needed outside help. To try and clean up the hoard on my own was going to be a disaster. Insisting on doing by myself would have been pride at its best. Pride only adds more clutter to the hoard. It takes humility to invite someone else into the hoard, pride keeps us from issuing the invitation.
When the right people are invited into the hoard things become even more painful because as people come in and see the extent of the hoard and what kind of damage it has caused they want to get rid of things. Easy for them, they aren't emotionally attached to the hoard! And that's exactly why it becomes even more painful. The outside help has perspective the hoarder can't have. It becomes a battle and can lead to tears, anger, and frustration. The options are either give up and continue to live in the filth of the hoard or fight through the anger and frustration and clear out the hoard.
Hoarders want to go through everything to see what they feel comfortable getting rid of. One of the reasons they are considered a hoarder is because they don't feel comfortable getting rid of anything! The thought of parting with the moldy, mildewed, damaged, broken, filthy object introduces a panic attack. It makes no sense to anyone but them. That's why outside help is critical. Outside help can help the hoarder figure out the root of that panic and how to address it in healthier ways.
I can relate.
For example, when it came time for me to start clearing out the people pleasing in my life I had a lot of panic attacks. "I can't say no to that person, what if they will hate me then? I can't have anyone hating me" or "I can't say no to that task, people will think I am lazy." Or a bunch of other excuses for why I was allowing others to use me as their personal doormat. Saying "no" was tough. Anticipating the disappointment and potential anger of the person I was "letting down" had me in a constant state of anxiety. It made no sense. I knew in my head that saying "no" was okay and healthy but my heart didn't agree. I had to learn how to bridge the gap between my head and my heart and some days that 18 inches might as well have been 1000 miles. But the more I said "no" the more my heart began to connect to my head and the smaller that hoard pile named "people pleasing" became.
Once hoarded piles are removed and addressed there's all this space. Wide open spaces that convey freedom, suddenly it feels like deep breaths can be taken, there's room for healthy things. And you wonder, why did I ever let it get *that* bad?
A lot of hoarders start out by collecting something or purchasing something because "someday I'm going to work on that". It's never an intentional act to create walls of stuff around them, spend money they don't have on things they don't need, hang on to trash, allow food to rot, etc. Nobody grows up and says, "I want to be a hoarder someday." All of it is to cover up their hearts, it's a way to distance themselves from whatever the hurt is. And we all do that. But some of us do that in ways that aren't as visible as the hoarder of a home.
I have unknowingly hoarded good things. By hoarding and abusing those things or people I twisted them from a good thing to a damaging thing in my life. I allowed my unhealthy mindsets to distort the good and turn it into bad. We all do this, not one of us is exempt. Maybe we haven't recognized it yet but we all do it with something or someone in our lives.
Are there any behaviors, mindsets, emotions, or situations that you have hoarded and you know that the stench of them is keeping people at arm's length? That the filth of them might be interfering with your career? Have you wondered why relationships are only skimming the surface of your life and not going deeper? Hoard piles and walls don't allow for depth and ease of movement.
Dear Hoarder, I understand. I really, really do. Don't let pride fool you into thinking you can clear out the hoard on your own. Invite someone into it. As embarrassing as it may feel, issue an invitation to someone and begin to clear out the hoard in your life so that you can live in freedom.
Friday, September 05, 2014
What's your rush?
Just like the Apostle Paul said he was the chief of all sinners I will start with this disclaimer: I am the guiltiest of all. Just keep that in mind okay? :)
I've noticed a lot of impatience lately. On the roads, in lines, with store clerks, with relationships, and the list could go on and on. Where it has really been noticeable for me most recently is on the road. I was in literal bumper to bumper traffic a couple of weeks ago and there was this driver that was obviously impatient and needed to be somewhere (as if we all didn't). First he got mad at me because I pulled into the traffic when there was a large space to do so and it was safe, not cutting anyone off or inconveniencing anyone. Except for him I guess. He sped up on me and tried to cut me off. Uh, hello? Do you see the traffic? Where do you think you are going to get to by being in front of me? Oh maybe you wanted to make it to the next red light in front of me? The lane we were in wasn't moving fast enough in the stop and go traffic so he pushed his way into the other lane. Congrats dude, you are now one car length BEHIND where you were. And there he stayed the entire time the traffic was heavy, one car length behind where he would have been had he stayed in the lane he was in. And he kept gunning it when there was movement in the line. He would go real fast for, you know, about half a second before he would have to stop again. Ugh. People like that give me road rage.
I also witnessed a spectacular display of impatience at the library the other day. A woman didn't understand how to look up something on the library website so she asked for help. The young man showed her how to do it, step by step. She kept interrupting him and asking questions that he had already answered. He patiently kept explaining it to her, using several different ways of explaining the same thing. She wasn't getting it so she got really snippy with him. I wanted to step out from behind the shelf I was looking at while listening to all this and say, "Hey lady, there's no other ways for him to explain it. It's not his fault you don't understand. BACK OFF." Sigh.
What's your rush?
Impatience is the answer. Impatience because we each believe what we have to do and say is more important than what anyone else has to do or say. Or impatience with ourselves because we didn't manage our time well or we are frustrated that this world is speeding ahead of us and we can't keep up. Impatience because everyone else seems to have forgotten that it is supposed to be all about us!
Let's just take a moment and breathe...deeply. Slow down. Let go of your entitlements. Make choices that will support a more relaxed way of going through life. Step down off the pedestal you act like you belong on.
I was at Sprouts the other day stocking up on fruit. I was watching my time because I had to pick up my youngest at a specific time. I got in line and unloaded my cart onto the conveyor belt. A woman came up behind me and just stood there. She didn't have anything in her hands and hadn't laid anything down on the belt. She saw my questioning look and told me all she needed to get was a rain check. I told her to please step in front of me and do that before the cashier began on my groceries. She was surprised. "Are you sure", she asked. "Absolutely," I replied. She was so grateful. I looked at the time. Even if letting her go ahead of me meant I was going to be one minute late to pick up the youngest it was worth it. There was no reason she shouldn't have gone in front of me. I actually try to practice this quite a bit in lines. People are always surprised. I'm sorry that they are. They shouldn't be. I should never be in such a rush that I can't let someone go ahead of me in line that has minimal purchases. I consider this to be a common courtesy but those have died out and now letting someone go in front of me in a line is called a "random act of kindness." I've talked about that before. By the way, the lady went in front of me, then I checked out. I unloaded my cart into the car, walked the cart all the way back into the store because it was closer to do that than a stall in the parking lot, and went to pick up my daughter. I got there one minute early. Common courtesy is always rewarded somehow.
If you let someone in heavy traffic merge in front of you does that really make you any later than you might already be? The reality is no, it doesn't. You will still arrive at your destination at the same time you were going to prior to someone merging in front of you. How would you like to be treated were the situation reversed? Wouldn't you appreciate being let in? If someone doesn't let you merge in don't you grumble under your breath and accuse them of being rude? Just remember that. Just remember that this life we are living we have to live interacting with people, some we know and others we don't. And interacting with people well means we let go of the fantasy that everything is all about us.
What's your rush? It's not all about you.
I also witnessed a spectacular display of impatience at the library the other day. A woman didn't understand how to look up something on the library website so she asked for help. The young man showed her how to do it, step by step. She kept interrupting him and asking questions that he had already answered. He patiently kept explaining it to her, using several different ways of explaining the same thing. She wasn't getting it so she got really snippy with him. I wanted to step out from behind the shelf I was looking at while listening to all this and say, "Hey lady, there's no other ways for him to explain it. It's not his fault you don't understand. BACK OFF." Sigh.
What's your rush?
Impatience is the answer. Impatience because we each believe what we have to do and say is more important than what anyone else has to do or say. Or impatience with ourselves because we didn't manage our time well or we are frustrated that this world is speeding ahead of us and we can't keep up. Impatience because everyone else seems to have forgotten that it is supposed to be all about us!
Let's just take a moment and breathe...deeply. Slow down. Let go of your entitlements. Make choices that will support a more relaxed way of going through life. Step down off the pedestal you act like you belong on.
I was at Sprouts the other day stocking up on fruit. I was watching my time because I had to pick up my youngest at a specific time. I got in line and unloaded my cart onto the conveyor belt. A woman came up behind me and just stood there. She didn't have anything in her hands and hadn't laid anything down on the belt. She saw my questioning look and told me all she needed to get was a rain check. I told her to please step in front of me and do that before the cashier began on my groceries. She was surprised. "Are you sure", she asked. "Absolutely," I replied. She was so grateful. I looked at the time. Even if letting her go ahead of me meant I was going to be one minute late to pick up the youngest it was worth it. There was no reason she shouldn't have gone in front of me. I actually try to practice this quite a bit in lines. People are always surprised. I'm sorry that they are. They shouldn't be. I should never be in such a rush that I can't let someone go ahead of me in line that has minimal purchases. I consider this to be a common courtesy but those have died out and now letting someone go in front of me in a line is called a "random act of kindness." I've talked about that before. By the way, the lady went in front of me, then I checked out. I unloaded my cart into the car, walked the cart all the way back into the store because it was closer to do that than a stall in the parking lot, and went to pick up my daughter. I got there one minute early. Common courtesy is always rewarded somehow.
If you let someone in heavy traffic merge in front of you does that really make you any later than you might already be? The reality is no, it doesn't. You will still arrive at your destination at the same time you were going to prior to someone merging in front of you. How would you like to be treated were the situation reversed? Wouldn't you appreciate being let in? If someone doesn't let you merge in don't you grumble under your breath and accuse them of being rude? Just remember that. Just remember that this life we are living we have to live interacting with people, some we know and others we don't. And interacting with people well means we let go of the fantasy that everything is all about us.
What's your rush? It's not all about you.
Thursday, September 04, 2014
Are you a safe person? Am I?
I know two people who are both vegetarian/vegan. One is so quiet about it that I forget most of the time. There are never any eye rolls about people around this one eating meat, there are no discourses about treatment of animals while meat is being eaten, there is no expectation from this one to be catered to for the choice. This one is happy to bring one's own and provide it for others as a choice. But like I said, this one is so quiet about it that I forget most of the time. I never feel like a lesser person in this one's presence, this one doesn't act like one's better than anyone else for one's choice. The other one is quiet about it verbally but loud about it in non-verbal ways. I am always aware of the preference the other one has. There are muttered comments under the breath, eye rolls, and a high expectation to be catered to. The other one is not happy to bring other's own but rather unhappy about it and stingy with what other one may bring, reluctant to share with others. I am never not aware of this other one's decision to be vegan, other one makes sure people know. Again not through words but through behavior. This other one makes others feel like they don't measure up to some standard and to be around this other one, especially when food is there also, is uncomfortable. Who is the safe person out of the two?
What does a safe person "look" like? Sound like? Behave like? It's really very simple when we don't over analyze it, over think it, and look at it logically.
A safe person has a "look" overall. Sure, we all have moments where we are the unsafe person. But a person who is considered unsafe overall is the opposite. They have moments, very few, where they aren't unsafe. There's a look that I believe accompanies both types. Safe people have an open look to them. They make it feel comfortable to be approached. Their facial expressions are ones of warmth, hospitality, openness, acceptance. Unsafe people are closed off. They have an invisible wall built around them that makes approaching them feel almost scary and definitely uncomfortable. The facial expressions of an unsafe person consist of scowls, neutral or negative mouth, eyes closed off and sending a message that people aren't welcome. A lot of times, in fact most of the time, we are not able to be honest or objective about ourselves. Which look do you think you convey the majority of the time? Ask someone in your life who you can trust to be honest with you to tell you what they see. If the two answers differ chances are good that the person you asked has the more accurate view of you.
Listen closely to a safe person talk. Now listen to an unsafe person talk. What are the differences in their speech, tone, even in the way they relate a story? Unsafe people use negative language, passive aggressive phrases and language, their tone is unpleasant at best, and they generally speak in harsh ways even when the topic is a "safe" or pleasant one. I know one person who speaks in harsh ways no matter what she is saying. She isn't a safe person (and for more reasons than her speech). Safe people lean more towards positive language, use accepting and inviting phrases and language, they have an upbeat and pleasant tone, their harsh speech is rare. How do you sound to other people? Remember, you and I aren't objective about ourselves. We hear ourselves in our heads and in our heads we sound so wonderful, kind, and open. Ask someone else how you sound the majority of the time. We all have bad days and moments, we all will sound like an unsafe person from time to time, but if we sound like an unsafe person more often than not then the reality is we aren't safe to others.
To study a safe and unsafe person that are occupying the same room is fascinating. I've had the opportunity to do so. As open as the safe person is, the unsafe person is just as closed. Here is what I observed. The safe person is open with affection in the many ways one can show affection, they are upbeat and friendly, their body language says "welcome", they make eye contact with others, they acknowledge when someone is talking to them by replying or listening, they are interested in what others think, people feel comfortable around them. Now we look at the unsafe person. If there was a sign hanging off of them it would say "Closed." Almost everything about them is closed off. They are withdrawn, their body language is defensive and even passive aggressive with eye rolls and big sighs in response to something they don't agree with. Eye contact is limited, they act as if people aren't talking to them and they ignore or snub others. When they are in the room the atmosphere is tense and uncomfortable. It affects everyone in very negative ways. If they choose to reply to someone the answer is generally curt. If someone recorded you in a room of people which person would you be? The unsafe or safe one? What is the reality of you? We can't see ourselves in a true light, we have to invite others to tell us where we may be falling short. Of course we think we are behaving well but the reality may be something very different. So find out from someone else how you behave in a room.
Being safe or unsafe has nothing to do with personality characteristics such as being an introvert or extrovert, being quiet or loud. My husband is very quiet but people always feel very comfortable approaching him. He is a safe person, it has nothing to do with him being quiet. But I know quiet people who are unsafe. We tend to judge people based on their volume level. The perception is loud people are obnoxious, unsafe, extroverts, etc and quiet people are docile, safe, introverts, etc. I have observed loud people and quiet people and those snap judgments are way off base the majority of the time. I know loud people who are actually introverts and some of the safest people in my life. And I know quiet people who are unsafe extroverts. Be mindful of making assumptions about people based on their volume levels.
Where does being unsafe or safe come from? Being unsafe can come from baggage from our past relationships, from our own sense of entitlement and expectations, from insecurities that were sown into us. Being safe can come from those same places but they are healed places. Once we unpack our baggage and refuse to quit traveling around with it we begin to behave in safe ways. When we realize we are not entitled to anything and the only expectation that is realistic is to have no expectations we will begin to behave in safe ways. As we dig up the seeds of insecurity and replace them with seeds of truth we will begin to behave in safe ways. Behaving in safe ways includes the "look" and sound of a safe person.
A safe person recognizes the unsafe place they have been rescued and healed from and live out of that transformation. An unsafe person is trapped in a pit of their own making and allow the wounds from life to dictate their behavior. Safe people know they need help unpacking baggage, digging up insecurities, letting go of entitlements and expectations and so they invite people to speak into their lives and help them. Safe people don't allow their pride to keep them in bondage to toxic behaviors. Unsafe people gather their pride around them and claim they can heal themselves, they refuse the help of anyone else. Instead of inviting people to speak into their lives they build a wall around themselves that is impenetrable. If someone dares to scale the wall the unsafe person will shift the focus off of themselves and try to shift blame, attention, or focus on to a different person.
Nobody wants to look at themselves and say, "I am an unsafe person." But when we can be honest with ourselves and take that first step then we have already taken a step toward becoming a safe person. Can a person be safe in some areas of their life and unsafe in others? Yes. We are all in progress and because of our flesh the majority of us are unsafe until we allow the rescue to take place. Once the rescue happens and the healing occurs we can move toward being a safe person in that area where rescue happened. I have personally found that once I am moving forward in being a safe person in an area I needed rescue, a new place within me that I am unsafe is revealed and I have to allow the rescue to happen there as well. I have also discovered that once a few rescues happen and I see the results I am much more willing to allow the unsafe places of myself to come to light so that I can be toxin free in this life. I don't want to be a toxic person. I'm pretty sure you don't either.
Are you a safe person? Am I?
*For further self-reflection/examination on this topic I recommend this article.
What does a safe person "look" like? Sound like? Behave like? It's really very simple when we don't over analyze it, over think it, and look at it logically.
A safe person has a "look" overall. Sure, we all have moments where we are the unsafe person. But a person who is considered unsafe overall is the opposite. They have moments, very few, where they aren't unsafe. There's a look that I believe accompanies both types. Safe people have an open look to them. They make it feel comfortable to be approached. Their facial expressions are ones of warmth, hospitality, openness, acceptance. Unsafe people are closed off. They have an invisible wall built around them that makes approaching them feel almost scary and definitely uncomfortable. The facial expressions of an unsafe person consist of scowls, neutral or negative mouth, eyes closed off and sending a message that people aren't welcome. A lot of times, in fact most of the time, we are not able to be honest or objective about ourselves. Which look do you think you convey the majority of the time? Ask someone in your life who you can trust to be honest with you to tell you what they see. If the two answers differ chances are good that the person you asked has the more accurate view of you.
Listen closely to a safe person talk. Now listen to an unsafe person talk. What are the differences in their speech, tone, even in the way they relate a story? Unsafe people use negative language, passive aggressive phrases and language, their tone is unpleasant at best, and they generally speak in harsh ways even when the topic is a "safe" or pleasant one. I know one person who speaks in harsh ways no matter what she is saying. She isn't a safe person (and for more reasons than her speech). Safe people lean more towards positive language, use accepting and inviting phrases and language, they have an upbeat and pleasant tone, their harsh speech is rare. How do you sound to other people? Remember, you and I aren't objective about ourselves. We hear ourselves in our heads and in our heads we sound so wonderful, kind, and open. Ask someone else how you sound the majority of the time. We all have bad days and moments, we all will sound like an unsafe person from time to time, but if we sound like an unsafe person more often than not then the reality is we aren't safe to others.
To study a safe and unsafe person that are occupying the same room is fascinating. I've had the opportunity to do so. As open as the safe person is, the unsafe person is just as closed. Here is what I observed. The safe person is open with affection in the many ways one can show affection, they are upbeat and friendly, their body language says "welcome", they make eye contact with others, they acknowledge when someone is talking to them by replying or listening, they are interested in what others think, people feel comfortable around them. Now we look at the unsafe person. If there was a sign hanging off of them it would say "Closed." Almost everything about them is closed off. They are withdrawn, their body language is defensive and even passive aggressive with eye rolls and big sighs in response to something they don't agree with. Eye contact is limited, they act as if people aren't talking to them and they ignore or snub others. When they are in the room the atmosphere is tense and uncomfortable. It affects everyone in very negative ways. If they choose to reply to someone the answer is generally curt. If someone recorded you in a room of people which person would you be? The unsafe or safe one? What is the reality of you? We can't see ourselves in a true light, we have to invite others to tell us where we may be falling short. Of course we think we are behaving well but the reality may be something very different. So find out from someone else how you behave in a room.
Being safe or unsafe has nothing to do with personality characteristics such as being an introvert or extrovert, being quiet or loud. My husband is very quiet but people always feel very comfortable approaching him. He is a safe person, it has nothing to do with him being quiet. But I know quiet people who are unsafe. We tend to judge people based on their volume level. The perception is loud people are obnoxious, unsafe, extroverts, etc and quiet people are docile, safe, introverts, etc. I have observed loud people and quiet people and those snap judgments are way off base the majority of the time. I know loud people who are actually introverts and some of the safest people in my life. And I know quiet people who are unsafe extroverts. Be mindful of making assumptions about people based on their volume levels.
Where does being unsafe or safe come from? Being unsafe can come from baggage from our past relationships, from our own sense of entitlement and expectations, from insecurities that were sown into us. Being safe can come from those same places but they are healed places. Once we unpack our baggage and refuse to quit traveling around with it we begin to behave in safe ways. When we realize we are not entitled to anything and the only expectation that is realistic is to have no expectations we will begin to behave in safe ways. As we dig up the seeds of insecurity and replace them with seeds of truth we will begin to behave in safe ways. Behaving in safe ways includes the "look" and sound of a safe person.
A safe person recognizes the unsafe place they have been rescued and healed from and live out of that transformation. An unsafe person is trapped in a pit of their own making and allow the wounds from life to dictate their behavior. Safe people know they need help unpacking baggage, digging up insecurities, letting go of entitlements and expectations and so they invite people to speak into their lives and help them. Safe people don't allow their pride to keep them in bondage to toxic behaviors. Unsafe people gather their pride around them and claim they can heal themselves, they refuse the help of anyone else. Instead of inviting people to speak into their lives they build a wall around themselves that is impenetrable. If someone dares to scale the wall the unsafe person will shift the focus off of themselves and try to shift blame, attention, or focus on to a different person.
Nobody wants to look at themselves and say, "I am an unsafe person." But when we can be honest with ourselves and take that first step then we have already taken a step toward becoming a safe person. Can a person be safe in some areas of their life and unsafe in others? Yes. We are all in progress and because of our flesh the majority of us are unsafe until we allow the rescue to take place. Once the rescue happens and the healing occurs we can move toward being a safe person in that area where rescue happened. I have personally found that once I am moving forward in being a safe person in an area I needed rescue, a new place within me that I am unsafe is revealed and I have to allow the rescue to happen there as well. I have also discovered that once a few rescues happen and I see the results I am much more willing to allow the unsafe places of myself to come to light so that I can be toxin free in this life. I don't want to be a toxic person. I'm pretty sure you don't either.
Are you a safe person? Am I?
*For further self-reflection/examination on this topic I recommend this article.
Wednesday, September 03, 2014
365 Days of Gratitude and Celebrating It with Acts of Kindness
Recently I turned 40 and ended my most current 365 blog. I planned it that way. :) This should surprise nobody, it's such a Type A thing to do!
Instead of repeat the story here, why not just go and read it over on the 365? It's broken up into three parts for easier reading. I hope you enjoy AND are inspired!
The Preface: 365 Days of Gratitude
The Story: Celebrating the Gratitude Attitude
The Epilogue: Continuing in Gratitude
Instead of repeat the story here, why not just go and read it over on the 365? It's broken up into three parts for easier reading. I hope you enjoy AND are inspired!
The Preface: 365 Days of Gratitude
The Story: Celebrating the Gratitude Attitude
The Epilogue: Continuing in Gratitude
Sunday, August 31, 2014
Welcome to the 40's
Last week I turned 40. I celebrated! There were no black balloons, no "over the hill" sentiments but there was lots of joy within me. There was gratitude felt and celebrated. Turning 40 isn't cause for dread but rather cause for a party!
I've been waiting to turn 40 since I was about 35. I think having an older husband makes me sometimes feel older than I really am and so I forget, often, my true age. No joke. I have to stop and think and do the math.
My 30's were hard, amazing, painful, beautiful, life changing. I came out of the cocoon in my 30's as God took me through a metamorphosis of sorts. I found my skin and I settled into it. I learned to stop apologizing for who I was and instead live life out of who I am. I found my voice, I quit striving to please people, my worldview expanded about a billion times from where it was, I discovered God in ways I had never seen him before, I made changes to my expression of faith, I gained friends and I lost friends. I gained weight and lost weight. My hair was short and then longer, I've been tan and my natural white. And just in the past couple of years I came to accept certain facts about myself. Things that aren't character flaws but things that are more preferences, likes/dislikes, things such as:
I've been waiting to turn 40 since I was about 35. I think having an older husband makes me sometimes feel older than I really am and so I forget, often, my true age. No joke. I have to stop and think and do the math.
My 30's were hard, amazing, painful, beautiful, life changing. I came out of the cocoon in my 30's as God took me through a metamorphosis of sorts. I found my skin and I settled into it. I learned to stop apologizing for who I was and instead live life out of who I am. I found my voice, I quit striving to please people, my worldview expanded about a billion times from where it was, I discovered God in ways I had never seen him before, I made changes to my expression of faith, I gained friends and I lost friends. I gained weight and lost weight. My hair was short and then longer, I've been tan and my natural white. And just in the past couple of years I came to accept certain facts about myself. Things that aren't character flaws but things that are more preferences, likes/dislikes, things such as:
- I don't like the outdoors. Now a lot of you know this, and mock me for it, BUT did you know (because I didn't) that I have never really liked the outdoors, even as a wee one. I always preferred playing indoors out of the sun and where there was no dirt and no bugs.
- Sweating aggravates me. And then the aggravation turns to anger. I despise sweating. This explains my disdain for humidity and extreme heat, or anything above 75, and my reluctance for exercise. I know I need to exercise but the sweating really messes with my attitude and head.
- This Type A chick has really bad time management/estimate skills. I'm horrible at estimating length of time for getting somewhere, finishing a task, preparing to leave the house at a particular time, pretty much anything that has to do with time and getting somewhere on time. I hate it that I am so bad at it and I've tried a bunch of different things to reverse it or to get me more on time but alas the bad habit dies hard. I haven't given up on trying to be more on time and more realistic with time management but it's slow going.
Now some of you may read those few things and if you know me you probably just went, "Ah, so that is the explanation for *that*." Hey, these are minor things, love me or leave me. Ha! I used to apologize for not liking the outdoors, for example, but I haven't apologized for that in a long time. It is what it is. :)
After I let go of the perfectionism that was holding me prisoner the rest of my 30's was spent learning to be okay with not being great at something, not being liked by everyone, making a mistake and owning up to it, and not stressing myself out to put forth a picture of who I thought people wanted me to be. Some people were disappointed I broke out of the jail perfectionism, that's fine - they aren't people that are healthy to be in relationship with.
After I quit striving to please everyone at the cost of my relationships with God and others the rest of my 30's was spent learning to be okay with someones disappointment when I didn't jump as high as they wanted me to, learning to stand up appropriately for myself and not allow people to throw me under the bus for the sake of their reputation, understanding the difference between peacekeeping and peacemaking (HUGE differences!) and learning to be a peacemaker, and learning that when I walk in fear of God things go much much much better for me and everyone else around me. Some people were disappointed I broke out of perfectionism, that's fine - they aren't people that are healthy to be in relationship with.
After my worldview was expanded in my early 30's I spent the rest of my 30's trying to learn more, engage more, promote awareness more, understand more. It has been at a turtle's pace but I continue to learn, engage, and move forward on behalf of "the least of these." I also have a better perspective on the universal similarities between any culture and the differences between them, my expanded worldview has given me a more balanced opinion about the "great" America. Yes, I am thankful for the freedoms of living here but this nation is not 'da bomb diggity, we are hypocritical, destroyed by debt, entitled, rude, obnoxious, and a myriad of other negative adjectives. I no longer wonder why other countries and nations hate us, I get it.
The biggest change I think I went through was that of my expression of faith. It caused a bit of chaos in my life. But the choices I have made in regards to expression have deepened my faith and have driven me to a place with God I know I never would have arrived at sitting in a box on Sunday mornings. The choices I have made regarding this way of expressing my faith have led to a freedom in Christ I had never experienced before...and I was born into the church nursery, I've been in church my whole life. I've had a personal relationship with God since I was 4 or 5. But there was always a sense of being held prisoner. No longer, he set me free from that and has affirmed my decision regarding expression of faith many times. Changing my expression of faith put to test the people pleasing I had dealt with, so that got refined a bit as well.
What do my 30's have to do with turning 40? My 30's were a set up. I know they were. God isn't done with this whole transformation he's been doing the past 10 years. But I firmly believe that before I could go through anymore I had to go through what I did in my 30's and come out of it settled into my skin. I've never felt so settled into myself. It's quite liberating! Oh sure, there are things I don't like about myself - my weight is probably the biggest (pun intended) thing I don't like about myself. But I no longer let the things I don't like affect my sense of worth. My size has nothing to do with my heart and who I am at the core. I'm learning this slowly but surely. That doesn't mean I just give up on my physical health but it does mean I don't equate it to value and worth.
How do I feel about turning 40? FANTASTIC. I've been looking forward to forty for quite some time. I'm just wondering, however, when I'm going to feel like an actual adult? :)
Saturday, August 30, 2014
The Soundtrack of my 30's
My very first 365 blog was songs. Songs have always been a source of inspiration, affirmation, even challenge for me. In my 30's there were many songs that were meaningful and became the soundtrack for that decade. Here's a few of the featured songs for my 30's, they tell a story of my metamorphosis.
Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns
Who Am I by Casting Crowns
I Will Rise by Chris Tomlin
This Is My Now by Jordin Sparks
I'm Not Who I Was by Brandon Heath
In Me by Casting Crowns
This is a special video created by a friend from my first trip to Africa in 2007. Click here to hear the song and see the video.
Hope Now by Addison Road
Brave by Nichole Nordeman
I Am by Nichole Nordeman
The Climb by Miley Cyrus
The Words I Would Say by Sidewalk Prophets
Wake Me Up by Avicii with Aloe Blacc
There were others but these featured are the ones that stick out. If you listen to the lyrics and you know the stories of my transforming thirties then you'll get why these stick out. :)
If you had a soundtrack of a time in your life what time would it be and what songs would it consist of?
(Btw, while we are on the subject of songs, soundtracks, and such let me confirm right now that yes. Yes I do have a playlist created for my memorial service should I pass suddenly.)
Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns
Who Am I by Casting Crowns
I Will Rise by Chris Tomlin
This Is My Now by Jordin Sparks
I'm Not Who I Was by Brandon Heath
In Me by Casting Crowns
This is a special video created by a friend from my first trip to Africa in 2007. Click here to hear the song and see the video.
Hope Now by Addison Road
Desert Song by Brooke Fraser (with Hillsong)
Brave by Nichole Nordeman
I Am by Nichole Nordeman
The Climb by Miley Cyrus
The Words I Would Say by Sidewalk Prophets
Make A Move by Royal Tailor
Wake Me Up by Avicii with Aloe Blacc
There were others but these featured are the ones that stick out. If you listen to the lyrics and you know the stories of my transforming thirties then you'll get why these stick out. :)
If you had a soundtrack of a time in your life what time would it be and what songs would it consist of?
(Btw, while we are on the subject of songs, soundtracks, and such let me confirm right now that yes. Yes I do have a playlist created for my memorial service should I pass suddenly.)
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