He Uses Cracked Pots

Health

2008-06-24T22:31:00.000-04:00

In two days I will be 53 years old. Unless I'm going to live to be 106, it's safe to say my life is more than half over. For the past 24 years I've been overweight and have suffered from several conditions interrelated with being overweight.

I've been on more diets than I care to mention and have spent a lot of money on diet programs, books, pills and supplements, and other products. And what do I have to show for all this effort? Nothing.

I haven't felt really good since I don't know when, and I've had a few health scares this year. I allowed my type-2 diabetes to go out of control because I don't want to be different--I want to eat like everyone else. I'd eat baked goods, candy, processed foods, and other junk, then freak out because my blood sugar readings would routinely run over 300. I couldn't seem to make the connection that what I put in my mouth was ruining my health

Finally I had enough. I want to be healthy, first and foremost, and am willing to do what it takes. Nine days ago I started a program called "The Body Knows" by Kay Sheppard. It is a planned, weighed/measured way of eating designed to overcome food addiction. I post my food everyday to the loop as a commitment to the plan. I eat three meals a day, plus a snack before bedtime. What amazes me is the amount of food I am eating. Four ounces of chicken might not sound like much, but weighed out, it's a substantial amount. I am not hungry between meals, and I've not been tempted so far to eat food that is not on my plan.

I had a doctor's appointment on Friday and he put me on a new insulin called Levemir. It's a long-acting insulin. Because of my new commitment to health, I'm not blowing off giving myself insulin like I have in the past. Between the insulin and my way of eating, my blood sugar levels have dropped dramatically. Two weeks ago, I was getting readings in the high 200s/low 300s. For the past three days they've been under 100. In fact, today my before-breakfast reading was 85 and my before-dinner reading was 86. Can't get much steadier than that!

I am taking this one day at a time. It would do me no good to think about what I can't have or to project it for the rest of my life. Just for today I choose to follow the plan and prayerfully tomorrow will make that same decision and commitment.

Right, Wrong, or Just Different

2008-06-22T13:14:00.006-04:00

The incident I wrote about on June 3 is unresolved. Needless to say, this has me upset. I decided to write the woman a letter to make amends. Among other things I reminded her of our past history and told her that her friendship is very important to me and I hope we can resolve our differences. I have not received a response.

What hurts the most is that she made a lot of accusations, screamed and cursed at me, before she slammed down the phone. Her accusations centered around me not doing what I said I would do...and that was partly true. But it wasn't that I wasn't going to do them...I just hadn't done them YET. Perception's a crazy thing. She says, frantically, "we only have 7 more weeks!" whereas I say, calmly, "wow, we have a whole 7 weeks!" So the things I didn't do just did not seem pressing enough to spur me into action, whereas she was freaking out because there were still things on her "to do" list that weren't done. I am very sensitive in perceiving how people feel about me, and I have to admit I've never felt as if this woman liked me. Now I know why.

This cuts me right where I live because I am someone who works best at the last minute. Some may say I procrastinate, but it's not even that...it's that my energy and creativity don't get sparked until I feel pressure. I have tried all my adult life to be different, but have finally had to accept this is the way I am. To some, it might be a character flaw, but I am weary of 30+ years of striving to be something I am not, feeling bad about myself, letting others' comments define me, and instead choose to celebrate the uniqueness of me.

But there's still this niggling hurt that this woman thinks I'm unreliable, inefficient, lazy...all those bad things that go with someone who doesn't do what they say they will do. And yes, there have been times in my life where I've let people down, where I've forgotten to do something I said I would do, where I put it off until the last possible moment, then drive those around me crazy as I scramble to get it done. But I always come through. And sometimes the results of my last-minute efforts surpass those when I've spent a lot of time in planning and preparaton.

These thoughts make it hard for me to feel good about myself, in spite of my best efforts. But in the end, I don't think it's a matter of right/wrong but just being different. Could this possibly be the way I am wired to be? I'm beginning to think so because I've been trying for so many years to change without success. But the way I am is not, in the eyes of most people, a good way to be. I feel I should be more organized, more task-oriented, work well ahead of deadlines. And there are time that I am that way. I'm not a total goof-off! And when I'm working with people of like-mindedness as myself, things are great. It's just when I come up against these "git-r-done" types that I feel like a failure.

My spiritual gifts are those of encouragement, teaching, and shepherding. I am not "giftless"--I just lack the gift of administration, which seems to be valued over all, at least in my church. The Bible speaks of how the church works as a body, and each part is important. In our physical bodies we can lose "parts" and still function, just as in the church we can function without all our parts. But the body has to compensate: A deaf person needs to learn sign language. A blind person needs to learn braille. A church without all of its parts also needs to compensate. A church whose congregation is heavily populated with "doers" will have lots of programs and activities but often lacks deep meaningful relationships. People are just too busy to take time to talk, listen, and pray for and with others. Of course, a church filled with people who are not "doers" will lack for activities and programs and fellowship opportunites.

There really isn't a right or wrong, unless there's a moral issue involved. God did not create us all from the same mold, and He wants us to use the gifts He gave us to His glory and honor. If we could get to the point where we could each appreciate and value all gifts, there would be a lot more harmony in the church.

Why Can't We All Just Get Along?

2008-06-03T18:08:00.005-04:00

In the past few weeks I have had several instances in my life of discord between individuals. In fact, just a few days ago I had a fairly nasty confrontation with a friend that left us both in tears. As I pondered the situation, as well as the others that I've been witnessing, it occurred to me that almost all of the stress and "drama" in our relationships stems from hurt feelings. And often those hurt feelings are due to a misunderstanding rather than being caused purposely.

In my case, it was a phone call that I failed to return due to an unfortunate oversight. The person thought I was blowing them off, so to speak, when in reality I only listened to half of the message and missed the part about calling her back. At work, a situation arose over a obliquely worded email. Some folks took it in a way it was not intended, and one misunderstanding led to another resulting in a lot of drama and hurt feelings before it finally got resolved several days later.

But how do we avoid getting hurt...and also avoid hurting others? Everything we say or do is potentially offensive to someone. We say something in a joking tone, but the other person hears an insult. We may be lost in thought as we walk down the hall at work and not notice a coworker walking past us. Because we did not acknowledge them, they may think we're a snob or that we don't like them. Sometimes a friend tells us about an outing they had with another friend, and we are hurt that we were not included. And sometimes just our differences drive each other crazy. The type-A driven workaholic gets frustrated with the type-B laid-back social butterfly. The type-A thinks type-B is lazy, slacking off, while the type-B can't understand what all the fuss is about.

When we unintentionally hurt someone, we often think they're being too thin-skinned and sensitive. And if we're perfectly honest, we have to admit sometimes we are, too. In my own life I've had to work really hard to squelch the pangs of jealousy and envy, to not feel excluded, to work on overcoming my insecurities so I can relate to others out of a strong, honest place. It's become second nature to me now, and I marvel at the transformation God has allowed to happen in my life as I am able and willing to extend grace and forgiveness, to overlook offenses and make my best attempt at reconciliation and restoration. People are more important to me than my "agenda." I no longer have to prove myself to be right, but instead extend the love of Jesus to those who have offended me.

With regard to the run-in I had a few days ago, I have to admit it hurt and I spent a good bit of time in tears. But I felt compelled to pray for this woman and as I did, God gave me some insight into the situation and I was able to turn my hurt and anger into compassion and a desire to make amends.

My prayer is that by example I will be able to encourage others to overlook offenses, forgive, extend grace, and reconcile and restore broken relationships.

Self-Acceptance

2008-05-26T08:53:00.008-04:00

May 15-18 was our Tres Dias community's women's weekend retreat. This was my eighth time serving on team for these weekends.

One of the ways we show agape love in Tres Dias is through notes and cards of encouragement to each other. In past years, I'd read the cards, think they were sweet, and lay them aside. This year, God whispered to me: "Linda, read each card--really read the words others have written to you. This reflects how they see you but also who you are." In the past I would read them with an attitude that the writer felt compelled to write something nice and I didn't take it personally. In fact, sometimes, to my shame, I'd sense a patronizing tone, "aw, poor Linda, what can I say to make her feel good?" But this year as I read the cards as God directed me, I saw a thread weaving through them...and I saw myself. Remember the line the Scottish poet Robert Burns wrote, loosely translated: If only we had the gift to see ourselves as others see us." I would add to really know how others feel about us.

A friend gave me a spiral-bound scrapbook, and I pasted all of my cards in it. As I read over each card again, it was like a love letter given to me by God. But it was also a mirror that reflected how my friends feel about me and, in essence, who I am. The thread that ran through spoke of the encouragement and support I give to my friends, my happy personality, the kindness I show to others, and my faithfulness to God. And yes, this is who I am. I grieve all the years of my life I wasted trying to be like others when God wanted to--and could--use me just the way I am without me having to change.

It's been so hard for me to simply accept myself, but I'm making progress. I'm learning it's OK to be me. And as I move forward, being set free from the insecurities and attitude of inferiority that's plagued me most of my life, the joy, peace, and happiness that fills my soul is indescribable. I have a feeling of freedom that allows the real me to shine through. I can just BE without needing someone else's permission or approval.

One of the desires of my heart is to use my experience as a witness and testimony to minister to women who struggle with being themselves, who worry about what others think of them, whose lives are lived in the bondage of fear they cannot be accepted the way they are.

Mary and Martha

2008-05-24T08:10:00.004-04:00

Luke 10:38-42 - As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!" "Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

I am a Mary in a Martha world. Most women I know are Marthas, and I am in awe of them. I've been to many, many functions over the years and there is always a group of ladies who instinctively know what to do and how to do it. Me, I stand there confused, wondering where to start and trying to figure out the order of preparation. I need to be directed and told what to do.

I've read the above scripture many times and almost always come away feeling like a failure that I'm not a Martha. Even though Jesus commended Mary for having her priorities straight, the world around us wants industrious workers, those who will "git-r-done." We Marys often get the evil eye from the Marthas because they think we are not pulling our fair share. I don't want people to think badly of me, so that has made me work even harder to act like a Martha.

The other day, though, as I was reflecting on this scripture, I realized it wasn't about the work. It was about attitudes and priorities. While it's true the Marthas of this world work hard and accomplish much, their priorities are misplaced. Tasks become the overruling thing in their life, and they shut people out because they have too much to do. People take second place behind chores, and if a spontaneous fellowship opportunity arises, the Martha-type often says no because it wasn't on her calendar. In addition, Martha-types often have a martyr complex, getting irritated that they have to do the work while the Mary-types sit and chat with a friend. You often hear a Martha-type wailing, "It's not fair!"

For a Mary-type woman, people always come first. Chores can wait; the work will be there later--although sometimes she will regret putting it off. A last-minute call from a friend to meet for dinner will almost always be doable to a Mary-type. I cannot speak for all the Marys of the world, but I know that when I work on a project or event, I almost always do it willingly and cheerfully, not expecting help or resenting the lack of assistance or wanting any kind of glory or attention.

Marys are not lazy, they just have different priorities than Marthas. And Marthas aren't always remote and detached--they can and do take time to be with people. It's just that for them the work needs to be done first and fellowship needs to be scheduled. Being a Mary is not an excuse for inaction or idleness! Marys do need to help where needed and not refuse to act because they aren't a Martha.

Marthas and Marys are just wired differently. Marys are easily distracted and may seem to lack focus because they are people-oriented. Marthas are busy-busy-busy and may seem remote because their mind is on their work, not conversation. Marys like to have fun while they work; Marthas see fun as an indication the work isn't getting done or the person isn't taking their work seriously.

I would love to see harmony exist between Marys and Marthas. Martha would not get mad because Mary isn't helping as much as she thinks is fair and would do the work cheerfully and willingly. Mary would not get mad because Martha is critcizing her and complaining about her to others. Mary would not use her personality to get out of work but would always be ready to lend a helping hand. Martha would realize that Mary performs a ministry by being able to listen to others and offer encouragement, hope, strength, and grace. Mary would appreciate all the hard work Martha does to make an event happen.

In the end, Jesus commended Mary for choosing what is better. He wasn't saying that not helping Martha was the better thing or that not working is preferable to working. He was saying that spending time with Him was the most important thing. Martha was so caught up in preparations that she ignored just Who was a guest in her home. Have you ever had a dinner party and worked so hard on preparations that after the guests go home, you realize you really didn't enjoy their company? That would be a Martha-thing.

The Marys and Marthas of the world both perform a necessary service. My prayer is that we may learn to live in harmony, meshing together our gifts to show Jesus to a lost and hurting world.

Weight Loss & Exercise

2008-05-04T20:08:00.003-04:00

Things seem to be coming together in my mind with regard to taking control of my eating and exercise. Not that I'm perfect, but I'm more mindful and aware of my choices and responsibility to take care of myself. I went to the grocery store this afternoon, and I did fairly well with regard to what I bought. On the way home I was thinking of how over the past 20+ years I never really had a firm, concrete, achievable goal. It was always a nebulous wish or hope rather than a planned goal. So I decided to do two things: (1) make a list of things I wish to achieve by losing weight and (2) make a list of things I've lost over the years because of being overweight.

What I want to achieve:
(1) Have more energy
(2) Not have to take prescription meds
(3) Be more graceful in my movements
(4) Not have to buy clothes in the womens' department
(5) Wear clothes that look nice on me; go for style instead of comfort only
(6) Be able to wear jeans
(7) Be able to participate in life instead of sitting on the sidelines because I'm too fat/too out of shape to play sports, get on amusement park rides, go canoeing or paddleboating, etc.
(8) Be able to squat, sit on the ground, cross my legs, get out of a sports chair on the first try, kneel, sit cross-legged, bend over, put things on my lap, fit into a booth at a restaurant.

What I've lost:
(1) Social opportunities because I was too tired to join in
(2) Sharing clothes with Melinda
(3) Fitting through tight spaces, like between clothing racks in department stores. I have to keep to the aisles.
(4) Money I've spent on weight-loss programs, supplements, books, etc., that increased my head knowledge but had no effect on my physical self.
(5) A little bit of myself each time I was publicly embarrassed because of my size. Like when I picked Melinda up from a friend's house--her parents were sitting on the porch and I went to sit on an old settee. The dad jumped up and pulled another chair over for me, obviously because he was afraid my weight would break the settee.
(6) Pride in my appearance. No matter how much I try to convince myself I look good--I know I don't.
(7) Peace of mind that I have good health
(8) The shame of seeing the words "moribdly obese" on my medical chart and receiving a letter from my health benefits organization that I'm "at risk" and need to go through a telephone counseling program to continue to receive a discount on my contribution for my health insurance.

Well, maybe not complete lists, but definitely a good start. I had someone tell me yesterday that she believes things will come together for me because I sound focused. I've had others tell me I sound more serious about losing weight and getting in shape than I have before. I'm praying they are right, and that I can take all I know and put it into practice.

National Day of Prayer

2008-05-04T17:40:00.001-04:00

I don't know how many of you heard about the brouhaha with the National Day of Prayer on Thursday. First of all, Ravi Zacharias was the honorary chairman, but apparently he was advised by the NDP Task Force not to pray in the name of Jesus so not to offend any non-Christians who were participating. And he didn't--which was very disappointing to me because I have the utmost respect for him as an apologetic for the Christian faith. This is from Liberty Counsel attorney Mat Staver: "There are recent indications that some with the Task Force may be bowing to pressures to try not “offend” non-Christians by praying in Jesus’ name. Honorary Chairman Ravi Zacharias plans to deliver a prayer at an interdenominational National Day of Prayer event in Washington, D.C. Instead of invoking Jesus’ name, his written prayer concludes, “In God’s Holy Name.”

Then, Rabbi Bruce Lustig prayed an inclusive prayer, saying: "No matter our creed, our color, our income or our status in life, whether Christian, Muslim, Jew, Sikh, Buddhist or Jain, before the Eternal, we are all equal in God’s eyes, we are equal in prayer, for through prayer, God can and will be our strength, and our shield, and our help.”

There's also a movement to "reclaim" the National Day of Prayer because the evangelicals have been accused of 'hijacking' the day for their own purposes. A group called Jews on First has sent out the following message: "The National Day of Prayer has been hijacked! What began in 1952 as President Truman's declaration of a National Prayer Day for all Americans is now excluding and dividing us on religious lines. The "Task Force" excludes Jews, Muslims, Catholics and even mainline Christians from participation in the events it coordinates around the country. Many of those events are staged in government venues with elected officials, in a deliberate affront to the separation of church and state."

Christians, we are under attack!! Jesus said to Thomas in John 14:6: "I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me." Unfortunately, that scripture has become extremely politically incorrect in our world today. The name of Jesus is being censored in its proper usage but broadcast in its profane usage. And it's OK for the Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists, etc., to pray and worship according to their beliefs and practices...but there is a definite effort to prevent Christians from doing the same. It is a sad state of affairs when people are afraid to proclaim the name of Jesus, their Lord and Savior, for fear of offending someone or for fear of what may happen to them.

Psalm 56:11: In God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?
Psalm 118:6: The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?
Hebrews 13:6: So we say with confidence, "The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?"

We need to be in prayer for those who cower before man and deny the name of Jesus.

The Modern Church

2008-05-04T17:38:00.000-04:00

There's a quotation that says all that is needed for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. I'd like to paraphrase that to read "all that is needed for Satan to triumph is for Christians to do nothing." Part of the problem is that we have created a bevy of Christian celebrities who draw huge crowds, whose books sell millions, and who get a lot of public exposure. Because of their popularity, we tend to get sloppy in our discernment of their preaching and teaching and receive whatever they put out without question. We look at numbers (church membership, conference attendance, book sales, etc.) as a sign of success rather than how they handle scripture. We fall into the mindset that 'might makes right' so the clout a popular preacher, author, teacher wields has more authority than a humble servant of God who preaches expository sermons on a weekly basis.

Scripture says in James 4:4--Adulterers and adulteresses! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Whoever therefore wants to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God. So many popular, well-known pastors got that way because they soft-peddle the message of sin, repentance, surrender, obedience, and judgment--the hard stuff. They often portray God as some jolly old soul who loves us (which is true) and wants what's best for us (no, he wants HIS best for us which sometimes goes against what we think is best), and answers our prayers. This makes God out to be some kind of Santa Claus--if we're good, we get what's on our wish list. If we don't get what we want, then we must have done something wrong. God's blessings, then become dependent upon our works rather than His grace, mercy, and love.

The public schools have dumbed down curriculum and teaching methods with the result that most students are nothing more than test-takers and fact regurgitators who can't process knowledge and produce ideas for themselves. Likewise, the church has dumbed down scripture and preaching with the result that many Christians can do nothing more than parrot what they've heard or read from a celebrity pastor/author/teacher. This becomes very evident when churches use The Purpose Driven Life instead of the Bible, when church leaders cannot teach a Sunday school class because they are not well equipped or prepared for the task, and when church-going people, when quizzed, are woefully ignorant of the Bible's contents, or think things are in the Bible that aren't there. I remember many years ago I got into an argument with my husband because he insisted the Bible says "God helps those who help themselves." He couldn't tell me where it was, he just 'knew' it was in there somewhere!

I never dreamed in a million years I would see the things that are happening in the Christian community today. We've become lazy and complacent. It's so much easier to depend on what Rick Warren or Joel Osteen or Joyce Meyer say than to dig into scriptures for ourselves. Christian books can be a good resource but they should never replace the Bible's authority in the life of a Christian. Nor should we blindly accept what we read or hear, no matter how popular or well respected the person is, whether it's a pastor, Sunday school teacher, or a close friend. We are all human, we all err, no one is perfect, and we need to test everything against God's word. 1 John 4:1 says--Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world. And how do we test these spirits? Against God's pure, true, and holy word.

Legacy

2008-04-06T08:16:00.004-04:00

At a recent women's event at my church, this question was posed: "Who has had a profound, positive influence on your life?" Most of the ladies present answered that it was their mother who had the biggest influence on their life. I've written a bit about the difficult relationship I had with my mom, and sadly I could not consider her a positive influence.

I went against popular culture and named my mother-in-law, Nellie. If everyone had a mother-in-law like mine, mother-in-law jokes would cease! In May 1998, when I suspected my husband was having an affair, Nellie was the only person in whom I confided. Her wisdom, encouragement, and support through this time was precious, even though I know it was almost as difficult for her as it was for me to go through this.

I remember the first time I met my mother-in-law. I had met my husband in late August 1976. We'd gone on a few dates before he invited me to come over to his house for Sunday dinner. I clearly remember the cheerful friendly greeting Nellie gave me. I liked her immediately, even though her out-going personality sometimes intimidated me. I wasn't used to a strong, cheerful woman--my mom was quite the opposite. But I learned to love and accept Nellie just the way she was.

She loved her family--not just her children but in-laws, nieces and nephews, brothers and sisters--in a way that made everyone want to be around her. She was a terrific grandmother, getting down on the floor with her grandchildren to build with blocks, make a train layout, or gentle rough-housing. She made the commonplace fun. My fondest memories of her are of simply time spent with her--like when Melinda and I would visit her on a Saturday evening while my husband and Dougie were go-kart racing, and we'd play cards or Rummy-O or Yahtzee.

Nellie had a knack for making people feel special and comfortable. She was a terrific hostess and loved having family and friends around. When her husband died in 1993, she re-learned to drive, continued to entertain and plan family dinners and gatherings. It broke my heart, though, to see her go through this without her beloved husband by her side. Yet her determination and efforts to be cheerful, positive, and upbeat in spite of her loss was a tremendous witness to those around her.

In April 2001 Nellie died after a 10-month battle with pancreatic cancer. At her funeral, the pastor gave the opportunity for people to share memories of her. Person after person stood and told of some small yet significant thing she'd said or done for them. My mother-in-law wasn't famous or well-known. But the lives she touched in a positive way made elevates her far above most people. Her love, cheerfulness, and warmth spread out like ripples in a lake, touching everything in it's path as it spreads out towards the shoreline.

My prayer is that I may accept the legacy Nellie passed on, the example her life was to me, and allow God to use me to bless others around me.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

2008-03-30T07:48:00.003-04:00

I recently changed the radio station I wake up to from a smooth-jazz station to one that plays songs from the 70s and 80s. Sometimes, listening to these songs, I feel as if I'm in a time-warp. I got to thinking of how the 80s was a transition of sorts from the permissive wildness of the 60s and 70s into a more conservative era. The "religious right" became prominent, and I remember as a Christian in the 80s thinking our time had come to truly change society, although the Christian agenda seemed to be focused primarily on abortion and homosexuality, attacking behaviors and ignoring the spiritual needs of the individuals involved. We rode the crest of the Christian wave for a few years before it began to decline. The problem was that preachers were teaching morality rather than the life-changing message of salvation through Jesus Christ. They led people to believe that by their own efforts they could change their lives and their behavior, ignoring the act of surrender and obedience to Jesus Christ. "Taking up our cross and following Him" was downplayed in favor of feeling good abour ourselves, being happy, raising good kids, building a strong marriage. All worthy goals, but apart from being surrendered and obedient to Jesus Christ, moral accomplishments achieved by our efforts. Ironically, several preachers publicly fell from grace because of their own inability to live the moral lives they were teaching others to live. The world we should have been trying to reach, those who do not know Jesus, saw the hypocrisy and emptiness in a lot of Christian's lives, rather than the hope of following Jesus. The result was a growing resentment and hostility toward Christians.

We entered the 90s which carried over some of the religious fervor of the 80s, but that faded as we enjoyed a time of financial comfort and a prevailing public feeling of "I'm not perfect--I'm only human." Society as a whole became more jaded and less shockable until, by the turn of the century, we were headed into a morality freefall.

We elected a president in 2000 who claimed to be a Christian, but society has continued to deteriorate. The divorce rate among churchgoers is equal to that of non-Christians. Within our churches we see families struggle with the same problems as outside the church--spousal abuse, child molestation, teenagers becoming pregnant or turning to alcohol or drugs. All of our efforts to live good lives seem to be in vain as we ask why these things happen to "good" families. Christians continued to focus on the two issues of abortion and homosexuality but began to struggle when these sins became known in their own churches and families.

Year after year has gone by, and the morality of our society keeps slipping. It's difficult to go into a public place without hearing profanity that, 20-30 years ago, would have gotten that person thrown out of the establishment. We watch TV and see ads for "Girls Gone Wild" videos or a group of middle-aged men singing "Viva Viagra." Barely a day goes by that we don't hear of some kind of heinous crime--a teenager murdering her family, a husband killing his family and himself in a murder-suicide, a church official involved in crimes of moral turpitude. A few weeks ago our paper told of the treasurer of a denomination's regional conference having embezzled over a million dollars over the years he served in that position. The fight against abortion and homosexuality is still there, but not as noisy. Televangelists and prominent preachers have shifted from teaching morality to teaching prosperity, finding our purpose, and how much God loves us while failing to mention recognition of our sin, the need for repentance, and God's judgment. We see preachers downplaying the deity of Jesus Christ by focusing on His humanity and bringing Him down to our level rather than raising Him up as part of the Trinity. And our politicians seem unwilling or unable to restore our country to its once-held prominence in the world. I've had the thought if my dad would come back to life today (he died in 1991) he would be shocked and appalled at the changes in our society, our lifestyles, our morals, our priorities, and our country as a whole.

Written February 3, 2008

2008-03-02T18:01:00.002-05:00

One of my passions is accuracy in preaching and teaching. If I hear something that I don't think lines up with the word of God, I'll question it. My church gets bulletin inserts from Focus on the Family, a well respected, trusted ministry. Last week there was an article about how things like being chosen last for a team or not getting any Valentine's cards from your classmates can make you feel like the old song: "You're no good, you're no good, you're no good, baby you're no good." Then the author talks about God's love and how He's in heaven singing, "You're so good, you're so good, you're so good; baby you're so good." Had I not taught the story about the rich young ruler that morning, and how Jesus told him there was none good except one...I may not have picked up on the false teaching that God's crooning "we are so good." So...I wrote an email to Focus on the Family about this error. I didn't hear back from them; however, I did get an email saying that due to the high volume of mail there will be a delay in receiving a response from them. UPDATE: I finally did get a response, simply thanking me for sharing my thoughts with them.

Scripture warns us against believing what our "itching ears" want to hear. Who doesn't want to hear that the God of the universe thinks they're good?!? But the truth of the matter is no one is good but him. In Isaiah, we're told our righteousness is like "filthy rags"; modern translation, a used maxipad. Gross, huh? But that's what scripture says, not that we're "so good."

I saw a video of Rick Warren's recent appearance on The Colbert Report on Comedy Central. Instead of using the forum to stay true to the gospel message, he said something to the effect that God is pleased when He sees us just being ourselves. Uh...no. I know when God sees ME just being myself, He says, "You are a sinner in need of a Savior and that's why I sent my Son."

There is a trend in the church today to bring God down to our level, making Him our buddy and friend. There's a popular t-shirt that says, "Jesus in my Homeboy." Walk into any Christian bookstore, and some of the stuff is downright tacky in how it portrays scripture, God, Jesus. There's a casualness and lack of reverence in handling scripture and the personhood of Jesus. There's a belief that slapping scripture verses on a product makes it "better."

I read recently, but do not know if it's accurate, that orthodox Jews consider scripture to be so holy that they will not throw out any piece of paper that has scripture written on it. Rather, the rabbis collect these papers and then once a year have a ceremony where they bury them. I know we like to see scripture on various products that may cross non-believers' paths and make them think. However, we also have to consider the fact that we need to balance that by treating scripture with reverence and respect.

I'm Back--For Real, This Time!

2008-03-02T17:55:00.004-05:00

I thought I was back, but my computer had other ideas. It must have caught a virus and wouldn't let me access the Internet easily. I borrowed and installed the anti-virus software from work (hey, if it's good enough for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, it's good enough for me!) and things are pretty much back to normal.

The other thing that's been keeping me from writing is that I re-joined an online divorce support group that I used to belong to. For years I used that forum as an outlet for my writing, and when I re-joined the group, I fell into old habits.

Anyway, as an update: I still love my job. My house has not sold yet. Life goes on!

I'm Back!

2008-01-11T10:24:00.000-05:00

Wow, I can't believe over months since I've posted! A lot happened since then. I'll do a brief recap and probably expound each item over the next few days.

(1) I started a new job on November 5. I'm working as a secretary for the Prosecution Division of the PA Department of State. There are 27 licensing boards in Pennsylvania, and what my department does is prosecute licensees who are in violation. There are 31 prosecuting attorneys and 10 secretaries. I am assigned to three attorneys. I absolutely love my job, the work I am doing, the attorneys I work for, and the people I work with. It's the best job I've ever had.

(2) Christmas day was one of the best ever. Dougie and Melinda were here for most of the day, and my brother and his girls were here. It was practically perfect in every way.

(3) On December 22 I put my house on the market. Yes, there is a "for sale" sign out front. I've had two people look at it, which is encouraging because of the time of year and housing market, but no nibbles yet.

Fear vs. Trust

2007-11-02T14:27:00.000-04:00

I am trying to figure out why I am suffering from such great fearfulness. Fearfulness of the unknown, of the what ifs, of doing anything for fear of doing the wrong thing. Whether this is part of my depression or whether it is an attack by the enemy or whether there is some kind of biophysical cause...I don't know. All I know is it's been besetting me for far too long and, as is my habit, when I have a problem, I write about it.

I did a search on BibleGateway.com on fear, then realized that would not give me the encouragement I needed. So I did a search on the word trust. Trust, while not exactly the opposite of fear, drives away fear. For example, if you trust your husband, you are not fearful when he goes away or when he's late coming home. When that trust is broken, every time he leaves the house (and I speak from experience), fearful thoughts enter in: "Is he meeting her?" "Is he with her?"

Scripture is full of the simple admonition to trust in the Lord. Psalm 56:11 says: "In God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?" Earlier in verse 3 it says, "When I am afraid I will trust in You." Simple direct words, yet so hard for me to put into practice.

So what I am logically interpreting here is that my fears equal a lack of trust. If I fear the future, the what ifs, the unknown, I am saying "God, I don't trust you." I'm doubting His goodness, mercy, love, provision, and care. The thing is: I have a choice--to trust or not to trust. I am making the wrong choice.

What really bothers me about this is how deep and difficult this problem is. It 'should' be easy for me to trust in the Lord. After all, He's proven Himself time and time again in my life. He's shown me grace and mercy when I did not deserve it. He's provided for me in ways that could not be explained away as coincidence. He's given me specific answers to specific prayers. And yet...I fear instead of trust.

I worry about my new job. Why? It is a gift from God. I worry about things that have a 99.9% likelihood of never happening. I worry about selling my house and moving. I think why I am so unable and unwilling to do what needs to be done is that the bottom line is that I do not want to move. The task is overwhelming; it would be easier (although financially unwise) to just stay here. I am dragging myself kicking and screaming into making this move even though I know I cannot afford to stay here. And there's some anger that I haven't remarried--that my knight in shining armor hasn't galloped up and rescued me. That would have been the perfect solution--fal in love, get married, and then I could afford to stay here. Or I'd at least have someone working beside me as I prepare to move.

Well, that's a whole 'nuther subject there--anger that things aren't the way I want them to be. And I know that anger contributes to my depression which contributes to my negative outlook which allows fearful thoughts to take root.

I will get through this, I know I will. I will conquer my fears, by the grace of God. I will learn to trust in Him. I am on a journey, not quite there yet, but I will be victorious.

Reality Check

2007-10-15T15:44:00.000-04:00

When I was growing up, I thought adults had it made. I guess I was too young to fully comprehend the stresses my parents went through. Maybe in their effort to spare my brother and I, they made handling problems look easy. But somehow I believed that when I reached adulthood, things would be different, smooth sailing.

My teen years were so angst-ridden I could not wait until I became an adult. Yep, I still believed there'd be this magic time where all my problems, worries, and stress would vanish. Everyone would like me, I'd have everything I needed and wanted, and my life would be normal.

I thought when I got married, we'd live happily ever after. When I had my children, I envisioned them growing into leaders, athletes, scholars--tops in all they did, outstanding individuals, the envy of all my friends. As you can well imagine, with that kind of attitude, I was in for a rude awakening!

I was married for 18 years when my husband had an affair and my marriage ended. My kids grew up spectacularly average. Oh, they had their successes and high points, but no academic or athletic scholarships, no "athlete of the year" awards, no valedictorian speeches. Just good, solid, average kids.

As my life seemed to fall apart and problems overwhelmed me, I looked around at my friends' lives. Most of them seemed to have great marriages, happy homes, that totally functional, normal life I desired.

But things aren't always what they seem. About ten years ago a man stood up in church and, with tears streaming down his face, declared his love for his wife and said how he wouldn't be where he is in life without her by his side. Earlier this year I found out this man was having an affair and the marriage was on the brink of divorce. In talking with the wife, I learned things that shocked me because I'd looked at them as having such a great marriage all through the years.

All of my life I've been so focused on MY problems, MY shortcomings, MY lack, that it made everyone else seem better off. I had to admit that I'd magnified my problems and minimized others' problems. My heart began to soften and be more compassionate to what others were going through. I cried along with my best friend when her son was deployed to Iraq for the second time. I shared another friend's pain when she told me her son is gay. My heart aches for the friend whose daughter had a baby out of wedlock. And the friend whose son is a substance abuser, the friend who lost her mother earlier this year to suicide...the list goes on and on.

My brother has an 18-year-old mentally retarded, autistic daughter. The challenges in raising her have been many, and it doesn't help that the parents are divorced and not on the best of terms. Two weeks ago, my normally docile, easy-going niece physically attacked teachers and students at school. As a result, she was admitted to a local psychiatric ward, undergoing tests to determine why all of a sudden she's turned violent. My heart is heavy for my brother and his ex-wife as they bear this burden.

At one time in my life, I'd look around and see people whose lives looked like a duck gliding through the water. What I didn't see was the frantic kicking under the surface. The reality of life is that having problems is the norm, not the exception. People break our hearts, let us down, disappoint us. People die, abandon us, reject us, and hurt our feelings. Sadly, we cannot control any of that. The only thing we CAN control is our attitude and how we react. And so I don't end this on a totally negative note: People also love us, encourage us, support us, bless us, make us proud, gladden our hearts, share our burdens, cheer us up, and stick by us through thick and thin.

So...I've had to let go of my expectations of someday living a calm, serene, problem-free life. It just ain't gonna happen!

Trust

2007-10-08T10:47:00.000-04:00

I have difficulty trusting people. When someone says something nice to me, I wonder if they really mean it. I doubt what people say. A friend recently pointed out to me that I have a definite mistrust of others, especially authority figures.

Worse, I have difficulty trusting God. When faced with challenges in life, I go to the Lord in prayer and turn to His word for guidance, comfort, and wisdom. Yet, I hold on to the anxiety and fear. I know, or I think I know, the outcome I want, and despite all of God's promises, I don't trust Him to work things out the way I think they should be.

I've written about my growing-up years in earlier posts, but the dysfunction of my home life is key to my lack of trust. My mom was a very inconsistent person. From day to day we never knew what to expect. One day she'd be loving, fun to be with; the next day she'd be cold, reserved, and mean-spirited. A misdeed would go unpunished one time; the next time severe punishment would be doled out. Or the punishment would be inappropriate for the crime. I remember one time I was putting a gallon of milk into the refrigerator. It was in a glass jug with a cardboard top and plastic handle. The jug slipped out of my hands and landed on the floor. The cardboard top popped off, and milk sloshed out all over the floor. My mom screamed at me, grabbed the wooden spoon, and beat my butt. Of course she made me clean it up, which was appropriate. The angry outburst and physical punishment was not; it was just an accident, not willful disobedience.

My mom also had a habit of lying, and we never knew what to believe. Sometimes it wasn't so much a specific lie; it was that she lived the lie. She pretended her family was perfect, and any comment otherwise was met with a hostile defensive attitude. I know now the pain and anguish my mom lived with as a result of her own dysfunctional upbringing. She coped with it by living the lie that things weren't as bad as they were. I saw the discrepancies between what she said and the reality of her family's lives, and this caused me not to trust my mom's perceptions.

All of the distrust that was sown into my life resulted in an inability or unwillingness to trust God. That, combined with my total lack of self-worth that would not allow me to even entertain the notion that I am worthy of and even deserve God's blessings, has brought me to the place I am today. I am trying to just trust God, in spite of my feelings, in spite of the anxiety and fear of the unknown. I am trying to trust my perceptions instead of worrying that I'm missing something. Often when faced with a stressful situation, I turn over rocks and look behind trees to see if there's any stressor that I've missed. When I don't find anything, I worry that I haven't looked hard enough and keep looking. It's not the situation that drives me crazy, it's my own unwillingness to put things into God's hands and LET IT GO that makes me nuts!

My pastor lovingly accused me of having sticky fingers, of giving my problems to God then taking them back. I just have to purpose in my heart, repeating over and over and over until I get it, that God is in control, not me.

Cleaning a Glue Pot

2007-10-07T16:24:00.000-04:00

When I was chosen to be rector for the women's Cumberland Valley Tres Dias weekend in May, I chose for my theme verse 2 Corinthians 4:6-7. Since then God has been teaching me lots of stuff about the clay jars in which we reside. He showed me that most of us have "cracked pots" and that we spend much energy and time trying to repair those cracks, not wanting others to see the ugliness inside, not wanting to expose our real selves. There's the whole concept of a clay jar being a storage container, and that what we are storing is God's presence, His spirit, but because clay is fragile, we are not always the best protectors of that presence.

Scripture also points out that God is the potter and we are the clay in His hands. He creates our clay jars, knowing our jars are prone to cracks, nicks, and other damage. But He keeps His hands on the wheel, forming and re-forming us into His image.

Lately I've been going through a lot of emotional turmoil, and at the root of it all is my negative sense of self-worth. It is so hard for me to believe that I am worthy and deserving of all God has provided, even the promise of redemption, forgiveness, and salvation offered through His son Jesus Christ. In spite of the abundant promises of His word, there's a voice inside my head that says, "but not for you." Affirmations, encouragement, and praise from others feels good, but it doesn't make me change the way I see myself. "If they only knew the REAL me," I'd think, "they wouldn't be so nice"

God gave me another "pot" image--that of an old glue pot with dried out, unusable glue stuck to it. And God knows this glue has to be removed, so He's taking a stick and digging and scraping and prying loose that seemingly impossible-to-remove glue--the old thoughts, perceptions, and beliefs that keep me from being a vessel He can use fully to His honor and glory.

For a long time, I've been going through the motions, knowing what I 'should' say and I 'should' do. But it's not been part of my heart, my core knowledge and understanding of who I am in Christ. God's telling me, "There's this barrier, this dried-out, no-good glue standing between who you are and who I created you to be." And believe me, it's painful to be where I am right now, to admit to myself and others that I have lived my life feeling, deep down inside, that I am not worth the space I take up.

Who I Am

2007-10-04T13:10:00.000-04:00

When I created this blog, I added the section "About Me" which gives a brief description of who I am. Even though those words describe me accurately, they really do not give a full indication of who I am. It really tells what I do, what I believe, and the roles I have.

The question, "Who am I?" is one of the most difficult questions we pose to ourselves. It's plagued philosophers and thinkers for centuries. I can answer that question, "I am an American," but that's not who I am; that just reflects where I live. I can answer that, "I am a mother of two," but that describes a role I've taken on for myself.

The tendency has been for me to look to others to define who I am. [In fact, in my "About Me" blurb, I use a description a former supervisor gave to me.] And yet, because I did not take the time to know myself and to be true to myself, trying to be someone other than who I am ended up being a colossal failure.

In addition, because of my core of insecurities and self-loathing, even when others offered words of affirmation, edification, encouragement, support, and compliments, I could not internalize them and make them part of my being. Because their comments were based on what I was doing, I could not apply it to who I am. In other words, I processed their words as simply an observation on my actions, not my being.

This way of thinking has colored my relationship with God as well. I have come to realize that all the teachings, the scriptures, the counseling, and hearing God's "still small voice" has been processed through the filter of what I do rather than who I am. Not fully and truly understanding who I am in God's eyes has robbed me of the deep fellowship and relationship He wants to have with me. I've wasted years feeling like a step-child, not quite sure of my status, being part of the family but not really a full-fledged member, feeling as if I have to change before they'll adopt me, afraid I'll do something to make them change their mind about taking me in. Part of it is an inability to believe that everything God says in His word is true for me. I want to say, "But God, I'm such a screw-up! Do you honestly want to bring someone like me into your kingdom? Do you want to take a risk on bestowing blessings upon me when the likelihood is that I will just mess things up?"

Neil Anderson's Freedom in Christ ministries has the following on their site (www.ficm.org). I first saw this over 20 years ago when it was printed as a bulletin insert at the church I was attending, and I have come across it many times since then. Many times I've read the list and intellectually know its truth, but the truth never reached my heart. My prayer is that my heart will join my mind in believing, accepting, and living the truth of these words.

From the Freedom in Christ Ministries website:
If you are a Christian, then the statements below are true of you. (NOTE: I am a Christian; therefore these statements are true of me.)

I am accepted...
I am God's child. (John 1:12)
As a disciple, I am a friend of Jesus Christ. (John 15:15)
I have been justified. (Romans 5:1)
I am united with the Lord, and I am one with Him in spirit. (1 Corinthians 6:17)
I have been bought with a price, and I belong to God. (1 Corinthians 6:19-20)
I am a member of Christ's body. (1 Corinthians 12:27)
I have been chosen by God and adopted as His child. (Ephesians 1:3-8)
I have been redeemed and forgiven of all my sins. (Colossians 1:13-14)
I am complete in Christ. (Colossians 2:9-10)
I have direct access to the throne of grace through Jesus Christ. (Hebrews 4:14-16)

I am secure...
I am free from condemnation. (Romans 8:1-2)
I am assured that God works for my good in all circumstances. (Romans 8:28)
I am free fom any condemnation brought against me, and I cannot be separated from the love of God. (Romans 8:31-39)
I have been established, anointed, and sealed by God. (2 Corinthians 1:21-22)
I am hidden with Christ in God. (Colossians 3:1-4)
I am confident that God will complete the good work He started in me. (Philippians 1:6)
I am a citizen of heaven (Philippians 3:20)
I have not been given a spirit of fear but of power, love, and a sound mind. (2 Timothy 1:7)
I am born of God and the evil one cannot touch me. (1 John 5:18)

I am significant...
I am a branch of Jesus Christ, the true vine, and a channel of His life. (John 15:5)
I have been chosen and appointed to bear fruit. (John 15:16)
I am God's temple. (1 Corinthians 3:16)
I am a minister of reconciliation for God. (2 Corinthians 5:17-21)
I am seated with Jesus Christ in the heavenly realm. (Ephesians 2:6)
I am God's workmanship. (Ephesians 2:10)
I may approach God with freedom and confidence. (Ephesians 3:12)
I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:13)

Depression

2007-10-03T16:56:00.000-04:00

I have battled depression and anxiety most of my life, although I could not identify it as such. As I grew into my adult years, it became obvious that I suffered from depression, but it took a long time for me to admit, accept, and deal with it. My ex-husband's adulterous affair forced me into counseling, and it was then I had to face my depression. I began a regimen of anti-depression and anti-anxiety medications, which eased the pain I was feeling and helped me feel more normal. Of course, as is common with people who take such medications, once I began to feel normal, I thought I no longer needed the meds. Wrong! As soon as I'd stop taking the meds, I'd slip right back into depression and then ask my doctor to put me back on the meds.

A few months go I wrote about how I was able to quit anti-depressants cold turkey and how I did not suffer the typical emotional crash. But a series of stress-inducing life events have plunged me right back into depression and anxiety, feeling almost the same level of discomfort I felt when my husband was cheating on me. I do not want to go back on the medications, which I know would make me feel better but would not deal with the root cause of the depression.

I read somewhere that depression is anger at oneself. When we can't accept, forgive or love ourselves, we become angry because we are not who we want or think we should be. That anger develops into self-loathing and self-rejection, which in turn creates depression. I'm finally at a point where I can see what God is showing me--that the depression isn't based on circumstances or events. My depression is rooted in a faulty view of myself and a unwillingness and inability to accept myself. I've written about my fear and worry about what people think of me. I've written about my tendency to beat myself up over mistakes, my codependent nature, unfairly blaming myself, and my inability to forgive myself. THAT is the root of my depression, and then when difficult times come, it knocks me for a loop because I process the problem through my dysfunctional mindset.

I think my deepest most pressing fear is that I am not right with God, that in spite of all my good efforts I have missed the mark, that maybe I've misunderstood, ignored, or failed in what I need to do, trying to cover all my bases, forgetting that His grace and mercy was extended to me as a sinner and I don't have to jump through hoops to receive it or earn His love and blessings. Because I cannot accept and love myself, I find it hard to believe God (or anyone else for that matter) can accept and love me. My self-rejection has caused me to live my life seeking approval and acceptance from others, but it doesn't work because I don't believe I'm worthy to receive it.

Somehow I learned at an early age that I am not OK, and throughout my life I have chosen to believe what reinforced that belief. This caused it to become real to me, and I learned to see myself as a loser, a screw-up, unworthy, unimportant, ineffective, inept, and unusable. I remember many times, being in meetings, unwilling to speak up because I did not believe my contribution was wanted, intelligent, valuable, or worth the time to consider. If I did speak up, and my ideas were not accepted, it only reinforced my belief that I was worthless and stupid and had nothing to contribute.

As I write these words, I realize I've made tremendous strides at overcoming these beliefs. I've been involved on many committees and projects where my contribution has made a positive impact. I'm not quite so sensitive when my ideas aren't incorporated. But in spite of this progress, the truth is that the feeling of unworthiness is still there. It's like a dried bloodstain on a white blouse--you can rinse and scrub and bleach, but the stain never really goes away.

The only thing that will remove that stain is, ironically, the blood of Jesus Christ which washes me whiter than snow. Yes, the thought patterns I've followed most of my life are sin, as they are not in obedience to God's word. God's word tells me I am His beloved child, joint-heir with Jesus, and speaks over and over and over of His love for me. To believe that I am unloveable and unimportant is to reject God's view of me.

God has been bringing devotionals, words of encouragement from friends, and scriptures to mind to help me see myself in a more accurate, honest light--to see myself through His eyes. God did not wait for me to achieve a measure of perfection before He provided salvation to me through His son Jesus Christ. I am living my life as if I cannot accept the transformation this gift of salvation has promised. I am living with old mindsets, thoughts, beliefs, and lies, when God has told me I am a new creature and the old has passed away. Right here, right now, I reject the lies and the voices in my head telling me I'm no good. I pray for balance, knowing that I am a sinner saved by grace but also that I am a beloved child of God. I do not want to become puffed up and proud and pray for a humble spirit, confident in who I am in Christ.

Control and Guarantees

2007-09-28T11:51:00.000-04:00

Whenever I am faced with a difficult situation, I find myself wanting a guarantee that this will never happen again. And because I know such a guarantee is impossible, my lack of control over the situation causes untold levels of anxiety.

I remember when my ex-husband was cheating on me. Almost every night I tried to talk to him in an attempt to gain some measure of comfort, some reassurance that the affair was over, that he'd admit he made a mistake, or at the very least indicate he understood how I felt. All my talking did was make him angry with me, and obviously it did not change the course of events.

When upsetting situations occur in my life, my usual strategy is to talk about it as much as possible with as many people as possible, trying to gather all the support I can, wanting to be told everything is going to be all right. I'm grateful for the graciousness of my friends who allow me to go on and on, with no resolution, just trying to ease the pain.

When my ex-husband was cheating, his behavior was out of my control. Although I could tell him how I was feeling, it was his choice to let my words affect his behavior. The worst part of that was when he would tell me what I wanted to hear and do his own thing anyway.

Intellectually I know that there are no guarantees that pain and suffering will not occur in my life. I know things happen that are out of my control. I pray over situations for God to intervene, believing in a positive outcome. Yet, again, there is no guarantee that will be the case. People have free will; God doesn't just snap His fingers and people fall into line. Getting this knowledge from my head to my heart will, I'm praying, relieve the anxiety I feel when faced with tough situations

Ugliness

2007-09-27T20:06:00.000-04:00

I need to buy myself a pair of rose-colored glasses that hides the ugliness in the world around me! But in the end, the glasses wouldn't change a thing. The ugliness would still be there; the glasses would simply render it invisible.

I already spoke my mind on Hollywood brats, but could expand on that because Hollywood is the source of so much ugliness. Yesterday I was checking my email on AOL, and there was an ad for a show that said, "be a tool of Satan." As if that were a positive thing!

As I read various sites on the Internet, my eyes and mind are bombarded with ugliness. Unethical self-serving politicians, wars, famines, terrorism, medical maladies--it's hard to find a good word anywhere. And the fear that is created makes us almost too scared to walk outside our door, not knowing what evil may be lurking there.

The ugliest thing, to me, is how little regard people have for the Christian faith. It's been watered down by "seeker sensitive" preachers and teachers, it's been rendered meaningless by the media, and it just doesn't have much of an impact on our society. During the 80s and 90s, the Christian Right was a powerful voice in politics, and they were "rewarded" by having a so-called Christian president elected in 2000. But he hasn't made much of a difference at all; in fact, the morality of our country is on a steady decline.

I see children growing up in the church, then when they reach adulthood, putting their faith aside and living hedonistic lives. The faith that their parents tried instill in them, the seeds they planted by making sure they attended Sunday school, church, vacation bible school, and participated in other wholesome, Christian activities, as well as providing a spiritual home life, seem to have fallen on rocky ground. The lure of the world is strong, and many of our churched children run after it.

I realize this is a bummer of a post--not exactly a ray of sunshine! I'm just in one of those moods, where I see the smudges on the window instead of the beautiful flower garden outside.

Sunday - A Day of Rest

2007-09-23T14:14:00.000-04:00

I am of a certain age where I can remember Sunday as an honest-to-goodness day of rest. We would go to Sunday school and church in the morning. Of course my mom would feed us lunch! What we'd have for lunch depended on our plans for the day. If we were going to stay around the house, go for a drive in the country, or go hiking in the mountains, lunch would often be a cooked meal (like roast beef, baked chicken, etc.) with all the trimmings. If we were visiting relatives, our lunch would be something easy and quick like soup or sandwiches because we'd have a big meal later on in the day.

One of my favorite memories was going for a ride in the country or hiking in the mountains, then coming home to lunchmeat sandwiches on soft white bread, Utz's chips, and ice cream for dessert. I remember there used to be an ice cream machine outside a gas station near our house. For 75 cents you could buy a half-gallon of ice cream in one of a limited number of flavors. It was always a treat to stop there late Sunday afternoons; an even bigger treat when it was my turn to choose the flavor!

Nothing was open on Sundays--no malls, stores, businesses. Heck, it was difficult to find a gas station open on Sundays! There was a very small store called Boulevard Market that was open on Sundays for 'emergencies.' But people planned their week around Sunday being a day of rest and not being able to shop.

Today I went to the grocery store after church because I was out of cat food. Sunday after church is the worst time to go to the grocery store! It seems a lot of people decide to do their shopping at that time, plus you have people like me who just want or need to pick up one or two things. But the truth is that in today's world, Sunday is just another day. After the "blue laws" prohibiting Sunday sales was repealed, stores honored church-going folks by not opening until noon. Now stores open at 10 AM on Sundays, just like any other day.

To be honest, how can we as Christians complain? There are a lot of people who do not share our opinion that Sunday is the sabbath and should be treated as a day of rest. Jewish people celebrate the sabbath on Saturday, and the very orthdox Jews do not work or do any business on Saturdays. But non-Christians do not celebrate a sabbath, and it's unrealistic to expect them to act like Christians.

And do we as Christians truly celebrate Sunday as the sabbath day, as a day of rest? I know I don't. I feel like I 'should' be doing something. Of course I look around my house and there's always something that needs to be done! But it's so difficult to choose to relax and recharge my batteries.

I also have to re-think my priorities. Did I really need to go to the store today, or could it have waited until tomorrow? To be honest, it could have waited. My cat is almost out of cat food, but there was enough to last through tomorrow morning. Shopping on Sundays not only is work, it's forcing others to work. Not that my not shopping will change a whole lot, but it would be more consistent with what I believe (or should believe...and live) as a Christian.

Hollywood Brats

2007-09-23T08:23:00.000-04:00

A long time ago I heard a quote to the effect that being a parent is like having your heart walk around outside of your body. I have no idea who said that, originally, but it is so true. When my kids are happy, I'm happy. When my kids are sad, I'm sad.

Lately the entertainment news is filled with Britney Spears' crash-and-burn. Before that we heard all about Lindsey Lohan's problems that forced her into rehab. It's bad enough when your son or daughter has problems, but to have it out there for all the world to see and comment on must be horrific to a parent. To be honest, neither of these young women's mothers seem overly involved or concerned. Oh, they were doting enough to push them into show business. But where are they now? I read that Britney is estranged from her parents, and that Lindsey's mom is an infrequent visitor to the rehab facility. These young women are crying out, and the people who should love them the most are not responding.

I can't help but think that at some level both Britney and Lindsey must blame their parents for where they are today. After all, they are the ones who "threw them to the wolves" so to speak, seeing fame and fortune as a worthwhile tradeoff for their children's innocence and normalcy. All moral training and discipline is put aside in the quest for public exposure and more money. After all, Hollywood's mantra is 'the more outrageous, the better.' The result is two very public, very tragic young women whose careers are on hold, at best, and perhaps ruined.

It's hard for me to put myself in their mothers' shoes because I would not have allowed or chosen that path for my daughter. Yet whenever I read the latest Britney escapade, I wonder how it makes her mother feel. Or does a show-biz mom even have 'normal' feelings and reactions? Does she really care for her child, or does she only care about the 'bottom line' of getting more exposure in the press, whether good or bad?

I wonder how a parent can think that allowing their child to "go Hollywood" will not affect them negatively. Think of how many cute child stars have ended up with tragic lives because Hollywood chews them up and spits them out when their cuteness is no longer a factor. Think about what this does to the child's spirit, to be rejected abruptly after a run of popularity. Think about what the child has learned, that they are OK, accepted, loved, only because they are cute. They are not a person, they are a commodity, a product. So we end up with adults acting childishly because that's where they had their most success. Or, worse, they start behaving in self-destructive ways because they can't accept the adult they've become. There have been some child actors who have successfully transitioned into adulthood, but they are rare.

Hollywood fosters and encourages bratty behavior. A good parent will discourage brattiness and train and discipline their child to accept responsibility, act in a responsible manner, and treat others with respect. And unfortunately it's not just Hollywood that produces brats; you can find them everywhere. But that's a subject for another time!

Stuff

2007-09-13T13:09:00.000-04:00

...as in "too much of!" As I am working on getting ready to move, I've been amazed at how much stuff I've accumulated over the past 27 years of living in this house. What puzzles me, though, is why I've held on to so much for so long. Why don't I get rid of stuff when it's usefulness, novelty, or whatever has worn off? Part of that reason is that it takes effort to go through stuff, pack it up and take it to Goodwill or Salvation Army, or try to sell it. So the piles got bigger and bigger, and now I'm in a position where I'm forced to deal with it.

This morning a friend came over to help me clean Melinda's bedroom. I live in a Cape Cod-style home, and Melinda's bedroom is on the second floor. It's a nice-sized room, but she's a pack rat and clutter took over the space. Since she's away at college, I didn't feel right about throwing any of her stuff away, so I just packed it in boxes. We have storage on each side of the room in the "kneewalls", and I have to be honest--I haven't even considered what was in there for years! To make room for Melinda's stuff, we brought out all the boxes I'd had stored away. We finished off the upstairs in 1989, which is when everything was put into the kneewalls and pretty much forgotten about since then. I'd forgotten I had a box with a lot of my wedding items (cake topper, goblets, feathered pen) along with the picture album, cards, and other remembrances stored in there. I even found a pack of notecards with "Mr. & Mrs. Married Name" embossed on them that I used for thank you notes. I joked to my friend that I should give them to my ex-husband and his wife! I also found a pair of hockey skates that belong to my ex-husband. I figure if he hasn't used them or asked for them since who-knows-when, they're going to Goodwill! I also found two boxes of cartoon character glasses that one of the fast food restaurants (I think it was Hardee's) gave away back in the early 80s. I found a beautiful antique pink glass serving dish and a crystal cake plate that were wedding gifts. I think I may have used the cake plate a time or two, but certainly not for the last 15 or so years.

Looking over all the stuff...Melinda's and mine...makes me aware of how much we have that we don't need, want, or appreciate. A crystal cake plate that's been in storage for over 15 years is not necessary or appreciated. Melinda has, it seems, around a hundred bottles of nail polish, all different colors, most of them those mini-bottles, from when she first started wearing nail polish, stored in drawers, shoeboxes, and a cosmetic case. I'm sure most of them are dried out, thick and gloppy, but I'll let her deal with that when she's home.

I've already taken two carloads of stuff to Goodwill, and I have enough for another few trips. And I still didn't get into Melinda's closet (which is crammed full of stuffed animals and dolls) or Doug's room and closet! Plus I've sold some things on Craigslist and given things away.

But it still makes me wonder why I've accumulated and held on to so much. I know one thing for sure is that when I move, I'm not taking anything except what I absolutely positively need or want. Simplicity is my new motto, and I refuse to make space in my life for anything that does not serve a purpose. Even if the purpose is simply to add beauty to my home (as in a piece of art or decorative item) it will be something I want and will be able to justify its place in my home.

Fantastic Friday

2007-09-08T07:36:00.000-04:00

Yesterday morning I met a friend for breakfast, which started my day off on a positive, happy note. Afterwards, she came back to my house to help me get focused and organized on what needs to be done to get my house on the market. We went room-by-room, writing down each task. In the end, there's really not a whole lot to do, and seeing it on paper eased my feelings of being overwhelmed.

When I got home after breakfast, there was a message with regard to a job interview. That was the first response I've received in a long time, so I was very excited.

I have my Longaberger basket collection on display because several people have indicated an interest in seeing what I have. My friend bought two baskets and also some Cat's Meow figures, so I made some money yesterday.

As my friend was leaving, my ex-husband pulled in the driveway. I have woodpecker damage on some of the logs on my house, and I asked him to repair them, and he was here to assess the damage. While he was here, he volunteered to powerwash and stain my house.

My unemployment check came yesterday, so I had a decent deposit to make, combined with the check for the baskets.

I took a carload of stuff to Goodwill, then headed to Home Depot and bought a few things I need for the house.

When I got home, there was an email from a friend asking if I wanted to do anything because her husband was out of town. We went out to dinner, then back to her house and watched a "chick flick."

On our way to dinner, another friend called to see if I wanted to go to the movies. I felt very popular!

I am very excited over the upcoming interview. The position is assistant business manager at a local nursing home, and from the job description it sounds like there's a wide variety of duties, which is good because I get bored easily. I would be working with Medicare billing, trust funds, would have interaction with families, as well as routine office duties. The interview was supposed to be Monday morning, then they called and changed it to Wednesday. It's as if God is really trying to teach me patience!

Do-Over

2007-09-06T16:37:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I was talking to my son and mentioned all that I had accomplished that day. Actually this whole week has been productive for me. He commented that he's very happy to hear how active I am, because earlier in the year I didn't do much more than go to work, come home and crash, get up the next morning and repeat. Both of my kids were worried about me. They saw the depression, resulting from a job I literally hated, that I could not see, that I denied even existed.

Later on in the evening, I related my son's comments to a friend, and he said the reason I'm so "gung-ho" with getting things done is that I'm motivated because I want to sell my house.

As I was working around the house today, these conversations floated through my mind. I wondered why it took me this long to get motivated; after all, I've known for a long time that I'm going to have to sell my house. But it wasn't until I met with the realtor and got more focused that I started to see all the work that needs done around here.

But I think the prime motivator in wanting to get my house fixed up, wanting to move, is that I see this as an opportunity for a major do-over. To be sure, it's painful to leave the house I've lived in for 27 years and raised my children. But I have a chance to leave all of this behind, the good and the bad, and make a new life in a new place. And that's an exciting prospect for me!

I remember when I was 15 years old. My parents rented the house we lived in, and the landlord advised them that he wanted to give the house to his son and his family, so we'd have to move. I remember that summer looking at house after house, not really caring where we moved because I just wanted a new start. One of the houses we looked at was like two houses joined in the middle by a living room and kitchen area. My brother and I would have had to go outside every time we wanted to go to our bedrooms--there was no interior connection. I remember telling my parents, with much enthusiasm, how much I liked that house. Their concerns about not having interior access to my bedroom fell on deaf ears; that's how much I wanted to just move and make a new beginning.

The thing is, though, that when I envision a new beginning, I envision a new me. I see these changes as a time to reinvent myself, to be a new person, to go where no one knows me so I can, finally, be the person I want to be, without my history following me. To go somewhere where no one knows I'm the person who's, on occasion, dropped the ball, forgotten to do something, left someone down. But it's never long until myself catches up with me. I can't escape it, I am who I am and I can't run away from myself.

Nevertheless, I eagerly look forward to this move. I anticipate buying new furniture; at the very least, a new bedroom suite. What I envision is getting rid of a lot of stuff that's been a part of my life, holding on only to what is meaningful and important to me, and replacing it with fresh new things. Making a clean sweep, so to speak, and making an effort to streamline and simplify my life. It's this anticipation that keeps me motivated and impatient for things to start happening.

My Worst Enemy

2007-09-06T10:37:00.000-04:00

Last night I went to our weekly Bible study at church. I was talking with one of the older ladies, whom I've grown close to. I mentioned how I beat myself up, and she looked at me and said very gently, "Linda, why can't you simply love yourself?"

Wow. If I had the answer to that question, my angst-ridden life would surely change! I don't know why I find it hard to love myself. I mean, I'm a very nice person! I'm kind and warm-hearted, giving, thoughtful, helpful, and fun to be with. People seek out my company, and I should have learned by now that I'm OK. But I think the reason I cannot love myself is because I am not perfect. I cannot accept my mistakes, flaws, faults, and character defects. They stand between me and a healthy acceptance of myself.

I grew up in an environment where every mistake was noticed, mentioned, and held against me. I learned to fear mistakes because making them caused such a harsh, hurtful reaction. To cope, I often would do nothing rather than risk receiving a negative attack. It's easy to see how this behavior affected my friendships, marriage, and employment. Fear and passivity became strong, and the spark of courage that I was born with died to a dim ember.

Thus, I am my own worst enemy. I don't do what I know I should do. I do things I know I shouldn't do. I reject myself for being human. My prayer is that I will learn to see myself as God sees me, and that I will believe my friends who see a valuable, lovable, wonderful, albeit flawed, person.

What I've Always Wanted

2007-09-04T14:11:00.000-04:00

I've always been in awe of confident people. People who don't worry so much about what others think of them but speak their minds, offer their opinions, and go through life without much self-induced stress. Me, I'm not so confident. As years have gone by, I've gotten better and can think of many instances where I outwardly portrayed confidence. It always takes me by surprise when people comment on my confidence because I know how fragile it is. And I'm equally amazed that some of my confident friends admit they're not always as confident as they appear.

In my humble opinion, confidence stems from a strong sense of self, and that strong sense of self is instilled in childhood by parents who love, discipline, encourage, support, and nurture their child. The child grows up knowing they are loved, knowing they can make mistakes without being rejected, knowing that no matter what they do, they still have someone in their corner. This atmosphere develops an attitude that they are valuable and valued and gives them the courage to enter into relationships feeling equal, not lacking, secure, not ashamed. Because of the discipline, they become secure, knowing there are boundaries and consequences for their behavior.

That's what I've always wanted: a sense of being a valuable, important person. Instead, I often feel people just put up with me because I'm here, and I carry a constant fear that I will say or do something to lose their friendship. I want that nurturing I never received; the sense of self that was never allowed to develop. I don't want this for self-glory but for peace in my heart. It hurts so much to feel the things I feel inside, to constantly question my friends' words, actions, and motives behind them. I don't want to be this way! I want to bask in their love, knowing that they love me in spite of my faults, flaws, quirks, and mistakes.

The strongest desire of my heart is to have someone in my life who loves me so much that I don't have to fear losing that love. I didn't have that in my first marriage. It's like "which came first--the chicken or the egg?" I don't know whether my behavior caused my ex-husband to withdraw or whether his behavior caused me to act in ways that were not conducive to a good marriage, but in the end it was probably a little of both. I never felt totally secure in his love so I was always walking on eggshells, trying to not do anything that might cause him to yank his love from me. What it ended up doing was making me into a doormat, a non-person, someone with no opinions or individuality. I tried to be a reflection of who I thought my ex wanted me to be, when in the end, I think he just wanted me to be me. And even if he didn't, I should have been.

Action

2007-09-04T09:54:00.000-04:00

Action is a great way to deal with emotional pain. Keeping busy and focused on a task helps me not to dwell so much on my own problems. This morning I sanded three windowsills in preparation for polyurethaning them. Not only did it divert my anxious thoughts, I have a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Yesterday I had five "knights in shining armor" do yard work for me. Five men from my church showed up at 8 AM with weedwackers, rakes, and leaf blowers, ready to tackle the overgrown jungle my yard had become. Four hours later, the transformation was almost miraculous! I shed tears of joy and gratitude for the willingness of these men to give up their precious time to help me in time of need. I eagerly look forward to the time when I can bless them back.

Pain

2007-09-03T15:37:00.000-04:00

Nine years of taking anti-depressants dulled the pain of life. I stopped taking anti-depressants a few months ago, cold turkey, with no bad reaction. Or maybe it just took this long for the chemicals to leave my body, because I am feeling pain like I haven't felt in a long time. Then again, I have had a lot of stressful life events this past year. I totalled my car, lost my job, lost my mom, had a major bout with the flu, and am preparing to move from the home I've lived in for 27 years. I also was rector for the Tres Dias women's weekend, director for vacation Bible school, and serve as the director for Christian education at my church. Each of these positions brought with them a measure of stress.

And that's just my pain. I also feel pain for my brother and my three nieces. I also feel pain for my best friend whose son is being sent back to Iraq for the second time. I also feel pain for my daughter who plays college soccer and has unexplainedly sat out the last two games on the bench.

I feel pain for a friend whose husband is having an affair. So many details parallel my own experience: he lost weight, bought a Harley, got a girlfriend. And I feel pain for their two sons whose life has been turned upside down because of their dad's infidelity and stupidity.

I feel pain for my friends who have been wounded by their past, by parents or others, and whose lives (like my own) are an effort to just be OK. I honestly believe there are more wounded, hurting, healing, recovering people in the world than there are those who've escaped abuse.

My faith helps me deal with the pain, but it doesn't alleviate it nor does it make it go away. Being a Christian doesn't protect a person from pain, it just gives them a source of comfort and strength. I've been relying a lot on that source!

Funk

2007-09-01T09:38:00.000-04:00

I am in a funk. This is not unusual for me this time of year. It seems every year when the kids go back to school, my mood turns melancholy. Also, this time of year reminds me of nine years ago when I was dealing with my ex-husband's adultery. To the outside world, we presented a picture of normalcy. However, I was experiencing anxiety the likes of which I hope never to experience again. Knowing my husband had feelings for another woman made me want to die. Literally. I would not have taken my own life, but I wanted to die. I was seeing a counselor, and she helped set my feet on the road of healing and growth. The woman I am today is radically different from the woman my husband left nine years ago. I have a testimony and witness to God's awesome grace, mercy, love, and power as I yielded to His refining and transformation.

And yet, even with the knowledge of that, I sit here feeling some anxiety. Getting my house ready to sell seems like an impossibility to me right now. I've lived here 27 years and even though I know moving is the best choice for me, there's a pang of leaving the only house I've lived in since I got married. I feel overwhelmed with what lies ahead, yet I know in a year or two I will look back on this time and wonder why I worried so much.

Being unemployed is also a source of stress and anxiety for me. I've been unemployed for 5 months. I thought for sure I'd have a job by now. It's not like I'm not trying. I'm on monster.com and careerbuilder.com and send my resume for almost every job they send me. I signed up with an employment agency, but they haven't sent one lead my way, so I've given up on them. I took my state civil service test, and I've had eight notices sent to me so far. I've mailed back my survey of eligibility, now all I have to do is wait until I'm called for interviews. With my high test score, I'm sure I'll get some calls. It's just that the waiting is frustrating.

I know this will pass. I've been here before, and I've always come through. I know that my house will get ready to list, and I know eventually it will sell. I know I will find a nice townhouse somewhere and that I'll be so happy I made the move. I know I'll get a job. I've got to keep my chin up and believe things will work out.

Visiting the Past

2007-08-29T09:56:00.000-04:00

When I was staying with my nieces last week, I took some time to drive around my old stompin' grounds. My nieces live about 2 blocks from the high school I attended, and about 1/2 mile from the house I lived in from age 2 through the middle of third grade. Even though it's been 34 years since I graduated from high school and 44 years since I moved from that house, I still feel a sense of rootedness to that area.

As I drove down the street where I used to live, it was a strange mix of emotions. On the one hand, I could remember the names of people who lived in some of the houses. I remembered going trick-or-treating up and down the street. And yet it was all so different. The house I remembered as yellow now had pale blue siding. Trees grew up and trees were cut down. They added a garage to the house I lived in, which gave it a very different look. I remembered vividly playing with the neighbor kids. One of the houses had a hill beside it which went down to the back yard, ending at a small creek. We used to take cardboard boxes, flatten them, and 'sled' down the hill in the summertime. It was great fun!

That same day I did some shopping, and the store I visited was about a mile from the second house I lived in, from third grade through ninth grade. Again, driving through my old neighborhood was familiar, yet strange; the same, but different. Extensive remodeling was done to the house I lived in. A second story was added, plus an addition out the side. The huge maple tree that was in our front yard, that I loved to climb, was cut down. It was weird to drive up and down the streets and see some of the same names on the mailboxes that were there 35 years ago.

As I left my neighborhood, I drove the back roads to get back to my nieces' house. I thought I knew the way, but everything was so built up, so different. Even the pattern of the roads had changed. What used to be a dead-end road now was a thru street. I felt as if I were in a place I'd never been before and yet so much of it was familiar.

My last jaunt was driving by where my high school boyfriend used to live. Surprisingly that street hasn't changed much at all. His house still looks the same as it did when I used to go there, as well as the other houses on the street. I was glad to see that some places haven't changed.

I tend to be a nostalgic person, seeing the past through rose-colored glasses. I guess that can be a good thing because I focus on the positive rather than the negative. This trip brought back bittersweet memories and a sadness for all that is part of my past. I don't think I'll visit those places again. It made me too sad. There was a wanting to do it all over, only this time doing it right. Erasing all the mistakes, knowing then what I know now. Although that's really foolish thinking, I still make mistakes to this day!

Watching My Nieces

2007-08-26T18:46:00.000-04:00

A few months ago, my brother's ex-wife asked me if I'd watch my three nieces on August 22-23-24 because she was invited to go to the beach with some friends. I told her I would do it if I didn't get a job by then. To be honest, I forgot about her request, and then a week ago she called me to remind me. Since I am still unemployed, I told her I'd do it.

My oldest niece is 17 years old, mentally retarded and autistic. The middle one is 15 years old and the youngest is 13. I love all three girls deeply and was looking forward to spending some time with them. When I was asked to watch them, I thought they'd be coming to my house to stay. However, the youngest babysits and the middle one has field hockey practice, so I ended up going to their house for the three days.

The oldest goes to day care every day from 7 AM to 4 PM. She proved to be quite a challenge, and all I can say is my heart goes out to parents of special needs children.

My brother and his ex-wife separated in 1997. I actually remember the day she called me--it was the day of Bill Clinton's inauguration. My son had gone to Washington that day with his Boy Scout troop, and I was watching the television coverage to see if I could catch a glimpse of him. The phone rang, and it was my sister-in-law telling me she was leaving my brother. I was devastated because I believe whole-heartedly in the sanctity and permanence of marriage vows. To be perfectly honest, I was not comfortable with my brother's choice of life partner, but I would never have said anything to him. I just hoped for the best.

My sister-in-law was, and still is, a fast and hard living woman. I always suspected she was a lot wilder than she acted when she was around me, and I was proved right. She was living a secret life doing things I choose not to share here. Not much has changed in the past 10 years. My heart goes out to the girls, though, who are old enough now to realize that their mom would rather spend her time doing her own thing rather than spending time with them. It breaks my heart that they have received so little nurturing over the years. My brother is a good dad, but he only has them on weekends, from Friday evening to Sunday afternoon. He is as supportive as he can be with their activities, and I pray that the girls recognize and appreciate his devotion to them.

Staying at my sister-in-law's house was very disturbing. First of all, it is so full of clutter you can hardly move. Piles of stuff crowd each room, leaving just a small pathway to walk through. And the house is filthy. Not just dirty, beyond that. Furniture and light fixtures are covered with the kind of dust that's been there so long you can't blow it away. But the worst part is there was no sense of love, joy, or peace in the home. I've been in cluttered homes, I've even been in dirty homes, where the sense of family love was evident. This home left my spirit in turmoil.

I feel so burdened for my nieces. My sister-in-law is talking about putting the oldest into a group home, which I think would be beneficial. I see depression in the 15-year-old. She reminds me so much of myself at that age. She's a deep thinker and a little bit of a misfit. She is the picture of a wounded soul. The 13-year-old is more superficial, things seem to roll right off of her. She's a cheerful ray of sunshine, yet I realize the wounds to her soul are just as deep and painful as those of her sister.

This experience was very stressful for me, yet I am grateful to have had the time together with my nieces. I pray that my influence, the deep abiding love I have for them, and my prayers will touch their lives and make a difference.

Getting Ready to Sell

2007-08-15T21:40:00.000-04:00

Part of my problem in working on my house is that I am an HGTV junkie. I watch these shows like Designed to Sell, Design on a Dime, etc., and they make it look so easy. Plus they do it all on a $2,000 or $1,000 budget but what they forget to tell us is that their totals do not include labor. For you or me to do the same thing would cost at least three times more because of paying someone to do it.

I've never had a knack for decorating. I mean, my house isn't ugly, but it's not chic and attractive. Part of it is that I'm too cheap to spend the money necessary to get my house the way I want it. The truth of the matter is, though, paint is cheap and makes a world of difference in a room. I have a sewing machine now and could make window treatments, pillows, etc., for a fraction of what they'd cost to buy ready-made. But I haven't done it because....well, I don't really know why not. Fear, probably. Laziness, maybe some of that too. Feeling overwhelmed by the task, definitely. Just the thought of making a rag quilt for my daughter filled me with dread. One of my close friends works at Joann Fabrics and offered to help me, but the choices of fabrics was almost too much for me. I'm real pleased with what I finally settled on, but it wasn't easy.

So for me to consider paint colors, fabrics, etc., is difficult because when faced with too many options, I shut down. What I need is someone to go ahead of me, choose 4 or 5 items, and then I can choose from that.

I feel good about what I have done and need to focus on this, rather than what needs to be accomplished. I made a master list of tasks for each room, and it's gratifying to see even a few items crossed off.

Sugar Detox

2007-08-15T14:50:00.000-04:00

I do not know what it's like to kick heroin or cocaine, but I cannot imagine it could be much worse than giving up sugar. Monday I started the Fat Flush detox diet. It didn't take long until I had a pounding headache right in the middle of my forehead. I also felt very lethargic, almost flu-like. This is typical of going off sugar.

Yesterday I felt worse. I'm trying to get my house ready for sale, but I could barely rouse myself off of the couch. I'm proud to say I did get the ceiling in my bedroom painted, but it took a lot of effort. I wanted something sweet; if not that, then some kind of carbohydrate like a rice cake or tortilla chips, both forbidden on the first two weeks of Fat Flush.

The sugar craving became unbearable last night. I spied some gluten-free brown rice pancake and waffle mix in my cupboard. I added some ingredients and made a batch of brownies in a 6" cake pan. They were delicious. I could have served those brownies to anyone--GF or not--and they would have enjoyed them. As it was, there was none to share because I ate the whole pan.

You may wonder what would make a seemingly intelligent person do something so dumb. Sugar is just that addictive to me. It is truly like a drug. I often watch the show Intervention on A&E. It's a show where addicts are confronted by family and friends about their need to enter into rehab. The show is very emotional as the addict moves from denial to accepting the offer of help. At the end, there is an update on how the person is doing. More often than not, the person relapsed into old behaviors, and the pang of disappointment hits me every time. And yet, I am not unlike that addict.

Willpower is useless against sugar addiction because the body's biological cries for sugar are more powerful than any amount of resolve. What works for me is a way of eating that allows plenty of food, taking supplements such as chromium picolinate and gymnema sylvestre, and drinking lots of water. The first few days are hell and does require perseverance. Once the breakthrough is made, it's pretty easy to stay away from sugar.

But it's hard for me to stay off. One of the strategies for staying clean of drugs is to not hang around druggie friends or go to places where you know drugs will be. That's impossible with food! It's a daily confrontation. In the workplace, there's birthdays and going-away parties where there's usually a cake. A lot of church functions offer light refreshments, which is often cookies and other sweets. A woman in our church choir regularly brings cookies as a treat. Some nights it's a huge struggle for me to resist the smell and the comments of others. She bakes the cookies right before coming to choir, so they're warm and ooey-gooey. Going to the grocery store is challenging because they pipe the bakery smell back into the store. I'm a sucker for anything cinnamony-smelling.

It's hard for someone who does not struggle with addiction to understand the power addiction holds. Often, an addict is thought of as weak-willed or uncaring. I used to feel that way, wondering why my parents didn't just give up cigarettes or why an obese woman I used to work with didn't just stop eating junk. Now I'm obese and I understand.

I've been told many times that to give up sugar is impossible, to practice moderation. The thing is, moderation doesn't work for me. I know a woman who can eat three M&Ms and stop. Me, I'd finish the entire bag. It could be a small snack-sized bag or a 2-lb. bag--I don't stop until they're gone.

In the end, though, there are no excuses. The cravings are difficult to ignore, but I've done it before. Once the sugar is kicked, staying off is my choice. The cravings are gone so I have no excuse for relapse. I need to believe the truth that I do not need to taste that sugary substance and ignore the lie that 'just once' won't hurt. There is no such thing as 'just once' for me where sugar is concerned.

So, today's Wednesday, back to square one. So far so good.

Moods

2007-08-14T20:49:00.000-04:00

I've always had mood swings. In fact, I've wondered if I'm slightly bipolar. I actually researched bipolar and don't think that's an issue. Actually I think maybe it's just the way life is. I'll feel down in the dumps and work at climbing out of my funk. Then I climb higher and higher until I feel life couldn't get much better! I'm there awhile...then I descend into the funk again. This cycle has repeated itself over and over for as long as I can remember.

I am in the process of getting my house ready to sell. To be honest, I haven't done much at all. Part of it is that I am so ashamed of how much neglect I have allowed to happen. That breeds shame, which makes it hard for me to ask for help. Another part is feeling so overwhelmed with the task that it seems almost impossible for me to accomplish what I need to do. And all of this puts me in a funky mood.

I am proud to say that today I painted the ceiling in my bedroom. It has not been painted since we moved in 27 years ago...and it was not painted well to begin with. The walls haven't been painted since we moved in. I did do a sponge painting technique over the original color, but the sponge painting is probably 15-18 years old.

As I was painting the ceiling, I was thinking about how shameful I feel about the condition of my house...and the song "Trading My Sorrows" popped into my head; specifically, the line "I'm trading my sorrows, I'm trading my shame, I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord." I do not need to allow my burdens to take away my joy.

Usefulness

2007-08-08T11:06:00.000-04:00

I said in my last post that I don't think God can use me until I correct some character flaws. That's not exactly what I meant to say. I believe my character flaws stand in the way of my effectiveness. After all, God is using me now, and has been using me--faults and all. Plus, didn't I title this blog "He Uses Cracked Pots"???? A cracked pot isn't as useful as one with no cracks, but a cracked pot can still be used. Maybe it will be used for a dried flower arrangement rather than fresh flowers that require water. Maybe it will be used to store dry ingredients instead of liquids. The ideal pot will have no cracks; however, a cracked pot can still be used.

I wrote also about my pastor being in my Sunday school class on Sunday when I was teaching. I wrote that I felt very ineffective and wondered if my lesson had any impact. During church I left the service before the sermon to teach junior church. My friend told me yesterday that during his sermon on Sunday, my pastor used me as an example. Ironically, it was something I said during Sunday school, so he obviously added it to his sermon at the last minute. This just confirmed to me that I don't have to "feel" like God is using me. The lack of feedback is not an indication that God isn't using me. I want to know, but I do not need to know, that He is using me. I keep hearing His still small voice saying, "It's not about you; it's all about Me!" But sometimes I forget.

Changing

2007-08-06T23:00:00.000-04:00

For most of my life I've wanted to be different and worked on changing myself. Somehow I learned early on that I was not OK the way I was and needed to change. As a young adult, my bookshelves were lined with self-help books. Most of these are a waste of time because they relegate changing to "three (or more) easy steps." In other words do this, this, and this and...voila...you will be changed. It's just not that easy. Plus, I learned, there are many issues that self-determination just cannot change. God needs to intervene, but if I'm working in my own strength, I shut Him out. In addition, leaving God out of the change process means I am determining (1) that I am not OK, (2) that I need to change, (3) the steps I need to take to bring about that change, and (4) the end result. God may not agree with my assessment.

I spent my entire adult life trying to figure out how to be someone other than who I was created to be. I rejected myself and, thus, God's gift of my unique specialness. After I became a Christian, I thought it would just be a matter of praying for change and God would answer. It took me many years to realize that God isn't interested that much in my opinion. All my striving took its toll on me; I became weary, frustrated, and depressed. My hard work had borne very little fruit. One day I threw up my hands in surrender and said, in a nutshell, "Whatever, God!" He said, "Aha! Now I've got you where I want you!"

I had to stop worrying, analyzing, and wanting answers to the eternal question 'why.' At every turn I just said, "Whatever, God." And it was then I began to hear His still small voice, convicting me of sinful attitudes, character flaws, bad behaviors and habits. And instead of trying to figure out what to do, I listened. I felt the Holy Spirit's discomfort when I went my own way. It was like an inner voice saying, "Don't act like that; act like this." Almost always the way God was directing me to act was not easy and required me to put aside my pride, my opinions, my will, and my habits. It was a new way of thinking, and there were times I would be talking to someone and stop in mid-sentence because the Holy Spirit pricked my conscience. I'd backtrack or correct what I was saying and go on.

I'm to the point now where I don't try to figure out how to improve myself. Believe it or not, God's showing me I'm more OK than I thought I was. Ironically, a lot of the things I felt needed to change are the things He is allowing me to keep, and the things I thought were OK are the things He wants me to change.

He has been working on me with regard to how I take things way too personally. Yesterday I was at a cookout, and someone said too many people who are looking for jobs want the high-paying jobs, and if she lost her job, she would take any job--even at a dollar store--just to put food on the table. My first reaction was to take that as a personal attack on my job search efforts. But God gave me the ability to step back and think about this. She was just voicing her opinion, sharing what she would do. I know what I need to make to pay my bills and take care of the other necessities of life. I don't need to apologize for that. For the first time in my life, as far as I can remember, I refused to be offended by not taking the comments personally but simply accepting them as another person's opinion. I am pretty sure as this woman voiced her thoughts, she wasn't even thinking of me. How arrogant of me to assume she was!

The one thought that keeps coming to me is that God cannot use me in ministry as long as I have these personality flaws that cause conflict--maybe not directly with another person but definitely within my mind, creating barriers to the flow of love from me to them. If I am supposed to minister to others, I can't let the little stuff get in the way. I need to be strong enough to overlook negative comments, whether intended or not, and love them anyway. It's NOT about me at all, and to effectively bless others means I need to step aside and show agape love no matter what.

Peeling an Onion

2007-08-05T12:58:00.000-04:00

A thought occurred to me today. You know, we are all in recovery--recovery from our sinful selves. The part of us that is displeasing to God, the part that ruled our lives before our salvation, did not disappear when we accepted Christ. Yes, we are new creations spiritually, but the personality, thought patterns, habits, and life experiences we had pre-salvation still exist and need to be brought under Christ's authority.

Romans 12:1-2 says: Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. Our response to God's gift of salvation is to give ourselves back to Him as a living sacrifice, no longer following the ways of the world but allowing God to renew our minds according to His will.

2 Corinthians 3:18 says: And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. This verse indicates that our transformation is an ongoing thing, not a once-and-done event. From our moment of salvation, being welcomed into the kingdom of God, until our death, our lives are a moment-by-moment process of transformation. Oh how nice it would be if accepting Christ would change us in an instant, transforming us into who God wants us to be. But instead, He challenges us to work at becoming like Christ.

A common illustration for the recovery process is peeling an onion. As we recognize our character flaws and try to improve and change, it's like removing a layer of an onion. The outside of the onion is papery, thin, and easy to remove. But as we move to the center of the onion, the layers are tighter, harder to peel apart, and it gets kind of stinky. That's exactly what it's like as we allow God to transform us. He doesn't give us the hard stuff first. He lets us work on the easier problems, lest we get discouraged and give up, and then presents us with ever-increasing challenges to help us mature and grow in Him.

In my own life, I've gotten to the core of the onion, and it's rotten and smelly. This past spring God brought me to the point of admitting that my self--my self-consciousness and self-absorption--was standing in the way of having a right relationship with Him. This admission was monumental and devastating, exciting and humiliating. To have reached this point seemed like I'd "arrived." I discovered the core of my problems and imagined life would be a little easier from now on. I was at the middle of the onion, no more layers to go...or so I thought. Then God said, "Well, while we're here..." and showed me some other areas I needed to work on.

One area that has plagued me all of my life, and one which I have written about previously, is my deep-seated fear of what others think about me. This morning I was teaching Sunday school, and I was presenting some potentially controversial opinions. Plus my pastor joined my class which only made me more mindful of what I was saying. The fear and worry about what the others were thinking made me feel that my teaching was ineffectual. The worst part is when I say something...and no one responds. I try to figure out the reason for their silence and almost always determine it's because they disagree with or disapprove of what I've said. And to be honest, as I wrote that last sentence, that's probably not the case because if they did disagree, they'd most likely say so.

Halfway during our church service the elementary age children are dismissed for junior church. The regular teacher was not there, so I filled in at the last minute. As I was teaching these young children, I was surprised to discover I was having the same emotions I'd had earlier in Sunday school, only it was more in line with wanting the kids to like me, the fear being that I will say something that will cause them to not like me.

After church, I pondered all of this and realized the constant fear of what people think of me, wanting everyone to like me, stands in the way of God using me to His will, honor, and glory. As long as I am putting fear of others ahead of boldness in Him, whatever ministry He has planned for me will not succeed. I'll just be spinning my wheels because I'm operating in my own strength, not His, limiting myself because fear has me in bondage.

I cannot remember a time in my life where I did not worry about what people think of me or worry about whether they liked me. In a group of 100 people, 99 can like me and think I'm great, but I'll focus on the one that doesn't, trying to figure out why, what I did, and what I can do to correct whatever it is that causes them not to like me. It consumes me to the point I become obsessed with the problem. And this obsession takes the forefront in my mind to the point the real me is transformed into someone striving to be who I think someone else (not God) wants me to be.

They say admission is the first step in overcoming a problem. I'm always glad when I recognize another character flaw (yeah, there's been quite a few!) because I know it's on its way to being corrected. The process isn't easy nor quick, but the end result is worth the hard work and perseverance.

Symbolism

2007-08-04T12:24:00.000-04:00

Being the introspective, deep, analytical thinker that I am, I have tried to figure out why I am so anti-symbolism. So far, the only thing I can attribute it to is when I used to listen to Rush Limbaugh in the early 90s. He was ridiculing the Hollywood types who wore red AIDS ribbons to the Academy Awards show. Rush pointed out the meaningless-ness of these ribbons and how the wearing of them showed a follow-the-crowd mentality. I agreed with his assessment and it's stuck with me all these years.

However, it works on both sides of the fence. If a red AIDS ribbon is meaningless, so is a yellow "support the troops" ribbon. Oh, you say, but I want to show my support of our troops! That ribbon on my car is NOT meaningless! But it is. You can support the troops without putting a ribbon on your car; thus, the ribbon is only decoration at the very least; an outward symbol of your beliefs at the most.

Why do we feel the need to share with the rest of the world where we stand on political issues, what sports team or NASCAR driver we like, whether we prefer Chevy or Ford? And then we have those bumper stickers stating, "My kid is an honor student at..." While I'm very happy for you and your child, frankly, I don't care. The thing is, it's so daggone easy to make honor roll anymore that's really not that big of a deal.

I've been wanting to buy an insulated water bottle, and I'm real picky about what kind of lid I want. I don't like the water bottles with a straw--I envision germs growing in the straw, no matter how many times I wash it. I was at a sporting goods store and they had the perfect bottle--32 oz., flip-top lid with a small spout, and insulated. Only problem was...it's pink. And it has the pink breast cancer ribbon on it. Now understand, I am all for supporting breast cancer research. My heart goes out to women who've dealt with the trauma of breast cancer. But I really didn't want the ribbon on my water bottle. I looked around for anything similar, but nothing came close. It's not that I minded paying a few extra bucks to get the ideal (for me) water bottle. It's just...the ribbon. And pink's not one of my favorite colors. In the end I bought the water bottle, just because it perfectly fit my requirements. But when I got home, I took some rubbing alcohol and removed the ribbon. I figure my job is done--my money's going for cancer research, I don't have to blab it to the world.

We've become so symbol-driven that we think wearing a t-shirt with a Christian message on it is equal to witnessing, maybe even equate it with radical Christianity. We think using a pen with a cross on it is preferable to using a standard Bic stick pen or that putting a fish symbol on our car somehow will change the world.

Yes, we're supposed to stand up for our beliefs, "contend for the faith" Jude tells us. But symbols just don't do the trick. Jesus told us to go into all the nations and what? Give away Christian-themed t-shirts or pens with a message? No, He told us to preach the gospel. We cannot preach the gospel without words, without testimony, without witness, and without knowing the gospel we are called to share with others.

So you won't find me driving around with any bumper stickers. Even though my son spent a tour of duty in Iraq, I did not put a yellow ribbon on my car. I know I support the troops and keep them in prayer, that's enough.

Therapeutic Gospel

2007-08-04T00:49:00.000-04:00

...and then, after all I've written in my last few posts, God directed me to this article on the 9Marks blog (www.9marks.org). It addresses so much of what I've been writing, thinking, and talking about lately. Due to the length of the article, I printed it out to read it, and I underlined and made notes all over it because it spoke to so much of what's going on in my life right now. Again, it is no coincidence that God brought this to my attention.

I don't think linking the article will work, so just go to the 9Marks site listed above and look for the article entitled "The Therapeutic Gospel" by David Powlison.

A Word in Due Season

2007-08-03T21:26:00.000-04:00

I have been sitting here this evening, wallowing in self-pity. No job, no romance, getting ready to sell my house, lots of stress going on. Then, I came across a piece written by Oswald Chambers. The last paragraph spoke to me so profoundly it almost made me cry. I know it is not by coincidence that God put this in my face, so to speak, this evening.

God does not give us overcoming life: He gives us life as we overcome. The strain is the strength. If there is no strain, there is no strength. Are you asking God to give you life and liberty and joy? He cannot, unless you will accept the strain. Immediately you face the strain, you will get the strength. Overcome your own timidity and take the step, and God will give you to eat of the tree of life and you will get nourishment. If you spend yourself out physically, you become exhausted; but spend yourself spiritually, and you get more strength. God never gives strength for tomorrow, or for the next hour, but only for the strain of the minute. The temptation is to face difficulties from a common-sense standpoint. The saint is hilarious when he is crushed with difficulties because the thing is so ludicrously impossible to anyone but God.

Lady in Waiting

2007-08-03T18:34:00.000-04:00

There is something not too many people know about me because I keep it well under wraps. But I am a hopeless romantic. I'm also very cynical. It's the cynical side I show to the world, unfortunately I guess. However, underneath that tough facade is a woman who believes in fairy tales, the knight in shiny armor riding his beautiful white horse, coming to rescue me from my mundane world.

I was married for 18 years, then my husband left me for another woman. Going through that experience made me more determined not to choose unwisely next time around. Well, if there is a next time around! So far that doesn't look likely. Four years ago I made a list of non-negotiable criteria that I think are reasonable. They are not anything to do with material or superficial things but things like spiritual maturity, kindness, sense of humor, etc.--things that are important to me. For example, I could never be married to someone who did not have a mature faith in Christ or who was cruel or whose sense of humor did not mesh with mine. I could not be married to a man who smokes cigarettes because I find them so offensive no amount of love could overlook that habit. I want a man I can sit with in silence and feel totally loved, secure, and at peace. Bottom line is I want someone I can share my life with, who will be my best friend, my soulmate, the person who completes that empty place in my heart.

The desire of my heart is to someday find the man of my dreams and live happily ever after. Wow, that sounds like an entry in a high school yearbook! But, is that too much to ask? I mean, I'm 52 years old, overweight, and not the prettiest cabbage on the wagon, if you know what I mean. And yet my heart yearns for and believes that there is a man out there somewhere who will love me just the way I am. I want someone who is head-over-heels crazy about me, and sometimes I wonder if that's too much to ask. I want a man like my friend's husband who told me recently he is taking better care of his health so he can spend more days on earth with her. I want a man who calls me from work every day just to say hi. I want a man who wakes up in the morning thinking that I am the best thing that ever happened to him. And, of course, I would feel the same way.

I have a friend who is my age who recently became engaged and will be married soon. I've known her for seven years, and for 5-1/2 of those years she swore she never wanted to remarry, the idea of sharing her life again filled her with dread. And then...she met a man who was part of an online group she belonged to. They started emailing privately, this progressed to phone calls, and then they met face to face. By then, they knew each other pretty well; the meeting was only to put a face to the person they already loved. Ah...sounds like a fairy tale to me! So I guess I can't give up hope; who knows what's around the corner for me?

I do worry that my expectations are unreasonable, that I'm setting myself up for something that will never happen. Part of me says they are, that I'm being overly romantic, wanting the fairy tale instead of real life. Yet I know a lot of real-life husbands who prove to me that it can happen. The question is: Can it...will it...happen to me?

Anxiety

2007-08-02T17:11:00.000-04:00

I have to admit that the job search is getting to me. I'm beginning to wonder if my age is a barrier. Or maybe when they contact my former employer, they get a not-so-glowing report about me. The worst part is the not knowing, wondering why I have not been able to get a job.

I came across this in another blog I was reading today, and it was of comfort to me:

“God, I don’t know what to do. Why are all these things happening?” Here is God’s answer, from Habakkuk.

For the vision is yet for the appointed time; it hastens toward the goal, and it will not fail. Though it tarries, wait for it; for it will certainly come, and it will not delay. Habakkuk 2:3.

Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; yes, wait for the Lord. Psalm 27:14.

Doing the Right Thing

2007-08-02T13:10:00.000-04:00

If I had to pick my worst habit, my most deep-seated character flaw, it would have to be my inability or unwillingness to take care of my health. Oh, I know what to do, I just don't do it. I have Type 2 diabetes, and I act as if it's no big deal. For some odd reason, I've been able to deal with the gluten-intolerance; perhaps because the reaction to ingesting gluten is immediate and obvious. Depending upon the severity of my contamination, I will get a rash or diarrhea, typical of celiac disease. This immediate negative feedback helps keep me on the right track, avoiding the bread, pasta, and other wheat-containing items I so dearly love. However, I don't have that same reaction when I have a high blood sugar reading, and I should. The damage caused by diabetes is silent and insidious.

I also have candidasis, yeast overgrowth, which feeds on sugar. When the yeast gets 'hungry,' they cry out for sugar, which sets up a craving. Ignoring the craving results in a flu-like reaction called the Herxheimer Reaction, which is caused by the die-off of yeast. It can last anywhere from a few days to over a week, and my experience has been once I've endured the die-off, I feel terrific and the sugar cravings disappear. But more often than not, I cave into the sugar craving. The other day I bought a bag of Tootsie Roll Midgees--why? It's easy to say it's just because they were on sale. But I hadn't eaten lunch, and my blood sugars were dropping, and my body was telling me I needed something to keep them steady. My body didn't say buy the Tootsie Rolls, that was my choice. No one knew I bought them. I hid them in the cupboard, but the whole bag was gone in two days. As a result I didn't take my blood sugar readings those days because I knew it would be high. When I finally did test my blood sugar, it was still high and I was filled with regret and shame at having done what I did.

See, this is my problem! I have all this knowledge about nutrition, how I should eat, etc., but I don't put it into practice. I know these things:

(1)I cannot eat wheat or anything containing gluten.
(2)I cannot eat sugar at all.
(3)I must be careful what kind of carbs I eat, sticking to mostly veggies and occasionally rice.
(4)Absolutely no processed foods.
(5)I have to be careful with potatoes because they cause a spike in my blood sugar.
(6) I need to stick to a simple diet of lean protein, lots of vegetables, and drink plenty of water.
(7) I cannot drink diet sodas, teas, etc., with aspartame because that is a neurotoxin that can cause all kinds of problems.

It is not impossible to follow that way of eating, but it takes discipline and diligence on my part. It's easy to say that my sugar cravings are caused by yeast and out of my control. Technically, it's true. But I need to deal with the sugar, go through the detox process of ridding my body of yeast, and go on from there.

I can't worry about what others eat or what they think about how I eat. This is what I've learned is the best way for ME. It may or may not work for others. However, I do believe anyone would benefit from these guidelines. Even people who do not seem to have a weight problem run the risk of damaging their health by eating too much of the wrong foods. Just because someone is able to maintain their weight doesn't mean they are healthy. We all know people who seemingly took good care of themselves, then ended up with cancer, heart disease, etc. But if you take a closer look at their diet, you will find it laden with sugar, white flour, hydrogenated fats, and processed foods that provide little or no nutrition to the body.

That's really the bottom line: How will what I am putting in my mouth edify, strengthen, and sustain my body?

Being a People Pleaser

2007-08-01T12:16:00.000-04:00

I never learned to not care what people think of me. I remember when I was in sixth grade, I wrote a piece for creative writing about how I wish people had TV screens on their heads so we could see what others are thinking. My teacher gave me kudos for my creativity and found my essay amusing. He didn't realize I was dead serious. You see, I figured that if I knew what others were thinking, it would save me the time, effort, and worry trying to figure them out.

In the past few days I have had contact with two people that I am convinced do not like me. I am uncomfortable around them because I don't think I've given them a good reason not to like me. And they've never come right out and said they don't like me, it's just the perception I get.

Last night I was with one of these ladies, and the thought came into my mind that perhaps it isn't so much that this woman doesn't like me but that she feels uncomfortable around me. She has a crude personality with a foul mouth, and I talk mostly about church and church-related activities. Several years ago she made a comment that I should get myself out into the bar scene to find a man. I'd rather be single than do that. It occurred to me that I don't like this woman all that much, yet I worry that she doesn't like me! I began to look at the people I don't like and realized that most of the people that I worry don't like me are people I don't like in the first place! How ironic!

It's kind of hypocritical that I reserve the right not to like someone, but then want them to like me. But then, I want everyone to like me. I think that's why I've developed the personality I have, to ensure that everyone likes me and that no one can say a bad word about me. I know this is unrealistic, yet I continue to strive for global popularity.

I need to develop a tougher skin, to not care so much and not work so hard at getting people to like me and just let them make the call.

Strange Dream

2007-07-31T11:31:00.000-04:00

The other night I had an odd dream. I was a child in danger, but I can't remember what was threatening me. My mom was there; not my mom of recent years but the mom of my youth. I tried calling for help, but my voice failed me. I kept trying to yell, but all that came out was a whisper. And my mom just stood there--she didn't seem to be the reason I was calling for help but neither did she do anything to help me. She was close enough to hear my whispered cries, but she did not move and just stood there.

When I woke up, I was puzzled by the memory of this dream. Then, later on in the day, it hit me what it meant. Obviously when I was a child, I felt threatened and in danger, but my cries for help were ignored. I still don't know what the danger was. However, I do know that as far back as I can remember, whenever I would try to talk to my mom about the way I felt about things, difficulties in getting along with others, friend problems, etc., she would pooh-pooh my concerns. Even to the day she died, my mom denied that I was a shy person to the point that she totally ignored and overrode my "proof" otherwise. What I wanted from her was affirmation and understanding, acknowledging my fears and shortcomings and loving me anyway.

I pray I do not do this to my kids. I see them in a certain way, but that doesn't mean I'm seeing accurately. I'm seeing them through the eyes of a mom that loves them unconditionally--that skews the picture a bit! It makes it difficult to see the flaws that I know they have. I just pray that God will give me the ability to see my kids as He sees them, in honesty and truth, and love them for who they are, not for what I want or expect them to be.

A Safe Place to Be

2007-07-31T10:27:00.000-04:00

One of my desires is to make my friends feel safe with me, that they can trust me not to ridicule them, diminish or dismiss their problems, betray them, or hurt them. I'm convinced this stems from growing up in a not-safe place and being in a not-safe marriage where my words, actions, opinions, and appearance were open for ridicule and criticism. I learned very early in life to keep my opinions to myself, that reaching out to others was risky because other people could hurt me. Of course, there is some truth to that. Even in my attempts not to hurt others, I know I have. Sometimes hurts are not intentional, and they happen in every relationship. My defense was to not enter into relationships, that way I wouldn't get hurt.

Some people have low self-esteem and try to make themselves feel better by putting others down. I, on the other hand, dealt with my low self-esteem issues by keeping my feelings under wraps, retreating into my own little world, and avoiding social events when possible. For many years it took all I had to go to social events because of my insecurities and fears. I would focus (and still find myself doing this) on insignificant things like noticing I was the only one in slacks when the other ladies all wore dresses or that I was the only one wearing sneakers when everyone else wore sandals or that I was the fattest/oldest/youngest woman there. Things like that only exacerbated my insecurities. I was different; therefore, I was wrong.

For many years I lived in an environment where any mistake I made was not only noticed but joked and teased about incessantly. To be sure, there are times where such teasing is appropriate, but it was so overdone that I became a walking self-fulfilling prophecy. I was so scared I was going to do something dumb that I ended up...doing something dumb. The positive side of this is that it gave me a heart of compassion for those who do dumb things. I rarely laugh at someone who, for example, drops a plateful of food or slips and falls on a wet floor. To me these are things that could happen to anyone and the embarrassment suffered is acute. Usually the laughter that surrounds such mishaps is one of relief, glad it happened to someone else and not me, which strikes me as a tad cruel in itself.

I have a terrific sense of humor and love to laugh. But there are some things I do not find funny. I do not think it's funny when someone ends up hurt. I do not think it's funny to tease someone about a physical feature that they cannot do anything about. A few months ago I teased a friend about being bald. Oh, my words were clever and funny, but my heart ached afterward with regret. I ended up apologizing with a promise to refrain from doing that again. He was gracious; I mean, he jokes about it himself, but I was not comfortable with my words and felt the need to apologize. I do not think it's funny to tease someone for not being quick-witted--what I'm thinking of here is when someone sets up another person to look stupid. I do not think it's funny to force shy retiring people into the spotlight. Sometimes the more outgoing people think it will help the shy person overcome their fears by putting them center stage, but it often does quite the opposite.

I started this blog for my own personal reasons, to keep an online diary of sorts of my life and as a witness to God's presence and provision. Even though I link it to my email signature, the purpose of this blog isn't self-promotion but rather a testimony, witness, and encouragement. I don't know who reads it and frankly don't need to know because my intent is for what I write to be a blessing to whoever reads it, whether I know them or not. That being said, I'm very careful what I write, in spite of the fact that no one may be reading my blog. When I write about my friends and family, it is in love and in a positive light because I don't want to hurt anyone.

Perception

2007-07-30T19:34:00.000-04:00

My biggest fear for all of my life has been worrying about what others think of me. The fear has been paralyzing at times. An example: I have lived in my house for 27 years but have no landscaping to speak of. Part of it is fear that I will do it 'wrong'--in other words, someone will criticize my efforts, saying I should have planted impatiens instead of petunias or whatever. I mean, there's other reasons, such as feeling overwhelmed by the immensity of the task (and that has to do with my difficulty into breaking things down into manageable tasks and instead only see the big picture). But in the end, it's worrying that what I do will meet with someone's disapproval. Oh, there's been some progress over the years, and I've learned to accept the fact that I will never please everyone. But the bottom line is that I still worry.

This morning around 10:30 my ex-husband's sister stopped in with a job lead for me. I was still in my nightgown, and I was very embarrassed and ashamed that she caught me this way. Understand, I had been out of bed for hours, just hadn't gotten around to taking a shower and getting dressed, and I worried that she would think I was a lazy depressed slob!! During the years I dated and was married to my ex-husband, I gave his family a whole lot more power over my life than I should have. Every decision I made, my words and actions, were weighed on the scale of what his family would think. I even considered his family's opinion when buying my kids' clothes! It sounds so silly now, and I'm really ashamed to admit I was this way. But old habits die hard, and even now I struggle with worrying about what others think of me.

The worst part is that sometimes I'm wrong. During VBS, I worried that everyone was mad at me, that they downright didn't like me, because I am a last-minute person. This was my projected perception of what I thought others were thinking, based on the comments of one person. I would 'fish' for hints and clues as to how people felt about my style of leadership, and if they were not forthcoming, I assumed the reason they held back is because they disapproved of me. The honest truth was that probably some people were OK with me and some were not. VBS came and went, and it was a very good week, in spite of me being in charge!

God has healed a lot of areas in my life, and I thank Him for the healing He has brought about. But it's not complete, and I still struggle at times. Part of it is needing reassurance that I'm OK and when I don't get it, I assume the worst. Part of it is a lack of confidence in that God's approval is sufficient.

It's funny: I can speak in front of a big group with confidence, with very little thought of how I appear, how my message will be received, or what people are thinking about me. But when I'm one-on-one, I'm constantly second guessing my words, my mannerisms, etc. I worry about stupid things, like people will think I'm trying to act like a know-it-all or that they think I'm dumb. And I realize that a lot of this line of thinking is patterns of thought that were established when I was a child, when my mom would say those very things to me--that I think I'm 'all that' or that I don't have the brains I was born with.

What's really interesting, though, is that for all my life I thought I was the only one who struggled with self-perception. I'm learning that most people do, they just don't talk about it. Well, neither did I for the longest time. I'm learning that even the people in my life who I look up to as examples of confidence and strength are sometimes shaking in their shoes too.

I've always been curious about why people act the way the do, why people react to situations differently, how some people may perceive the exact same situation in opposite ways. What really fascinates me is when people know better but still perceive and react in less-than-positive ways. This is a really long, involved subject that is too much for one post, and I'll probably revisit it periodically.

Happy Mom

2007-07-26T20:19:00.000-04:00

Both of my kids are here right now. I invited them for dinner, which is one sure way to get them here. If you feed them, they will come. I made roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, and corn--my family's favorite meal. Peanut butter pie for dessert. I made a gluten-free crust for the pie using ground almonds, gluten-free pancake mix, and melted butter. It's very tasty! I know it's heavy on the carbs and calories, but I rarely eat a meal like this, and it's kind of like a celebration when the kids are here.

Now, with full tummies, Doug is watching U. S. Marshals on AMC and Melinda is doing laundry. Not many chores she likes to do, but she really likes doing laundry--and she's very good at it! She treats stains like a pro and is one of the best clothes folders I've ever seen.

It feels like old times, when the kids lived at home. But now it's a rare thing when the three of us are here together. Melinda pops in and out more than Doug does because this is still her home base. Doug informed me this evening he changed his legal residence to his dad's house. Not a surprise, but it hurts a little to let him go. The reason he lives at his dad's is practical--his race car is there. Even though he only races once a week, working on the car is an almost every night thing. He also attends our local community college, which is a hop-skip from his dad's house. Yeah, it all makes sense, but sometimes I wish he still lived here.

Pet Peeves - Grammar

2007-07-26T10:34:00.000-04:00

Poor grammar sets my teeth on edge. Evidence that America's educational system is lacking is most evident in the general public's poor command of the grammar rules of their native language. I remember even as a teenager, reading paperback novels and almost always finding a typo or grammatical error--and this was after the book had gone through editing and proofreading. I don't know why this area seems to be such a battleground for me, but it is. It's like when I see an error, I feel compelled to correct it. In my zeal to make the world grammatically correct, I have:

* Erased misplaced apostrophes from white boards (menus, announcements, etc.)

* Picked up a pen and corrected misspellings on posted memos, signs, and announcements

* Written to companies asking them to correct an error on the packaging or website

* Called a church to inform them, in love of course, of two errors on their reader board

My two major pet peeves are the misuse of apostrophes and the word "pre-registration." Pre-registration is a non-word that I would love to see banished from use! The prefix "pre" modifies the word that it's attached to, indicating something that happens before or prior. Pre-season means before the season. Pre-marital means before marriage. Pre-surgical means before surgery. So logically, pre-registration means before registration. But you can't register before you register! What you are doing is registering before an event. Early registration or advanced registration would be preferable to and more accurate than pre-registration. Whenever I've tried to explain to people what the word pre-registration really denotes, they just don't get it, which frustrates me even more!

Apostrophes seem to be confusing to a lot of people, but their usage is quite simple. Apostrophes are used in two instances: to show possession (Mary's shoes) or to denote a contraction or where letters are omitted (can't instead of cannot, li'l' for little). Very simple. However, a lot of people add the apostrophe whenever they add an "s" to the end of the word, or they seem to think that if the word ends in a vowel, an apostrophe-s is necessary to denote pluarlity. There's a sign at the end of my road "Lot's for sale." I'd like to know who Lot is and why he's for sale! A local restaurant offers "taco's." The church that I called to correct their reader board announces that cell groups meet on "Sunday's" and on the other side tells us Bible study is on "Wednesdays's." Several companies sell products with the word "mini's" in them. I have written to these companies, telling them I refuse to buy their product until they remove the apostrophe. I've been told on occasion that it's "creative license"--in other words, in the name of being creative, they are allowed to be grammatically incorrect. I disagree and think that a company has the obligation and responsibility to present their products in an accurate manner.

I've been teased and ridiculed for my efforts to rid the world of bad grammar. One person said to me, "Is this the hill you want to die on?" No, it's not that important. But it is important enough, I think, to make the effort to help people understand the dynamics of their own language.

God's Provision

2007-07-25T11:28:00.000-04:00

Since losing my job, my needs have been supplied in ways that can only be from God. I've received unexpected cash gifts from friends. These gifts always came just as my reserves began to look inadequate to meet my needs. I also received money from my mom's life insurance policy and also from closing out her banking accounts. Not huge amounts, certainly, but enough to see me through this time of unemployment.

Of course, I did file for unemployment, so I have that source of income, but without the other things mentioned above, it would be not be enough for me to live on.

My monthly bills consist of my home equity line of credit payment, utilities (house phone, cell phone, electric, satellite TV, ISP), and auto insurance. I'm also paying $270 a month for COBRA coverage, and of course there's gas and groceries.

I'm living frugally, but not painfully so. I've always been a bargain hunter, so this isn't a real stretch for me. I only buy things on sale, unless it's an immediate need. I search the meat section at the grocery store for items marked down because it's the sell-by date. Yesterday I bought a pair of capris at Target for $5.95--originally $21.99. My kind of deal! I have a cat, so there's the continual expense of cat food and kitty litter.

The area where I feel I could spend less is eating out. But even there, God has provided. I have received many gift cards for local restaurants, and I've also had gracious friends who've treated me to meals. But I still think I could cut back in this area and save some money by eating at home.

God has been so good to me, providing my daily needs during this time of unemployment. Every once in a while I'll get panicky, wondering if I should just take a job, any job, so I have an income. Plus I feel like others look at me as if I'm lazy and irresponsible, not actively searching for employment. Yet God speaks to my heart: "Just relax and trust me. Let me take care of you. Haven't I been taking care of you all along?" And I have to admit that my "gut" feeling is that this is an important time in my life and when God sees fit to move me in to employment, that door will open.

Job Search

2007-07-25T10:36:00.000-04:00

I have been unemployed since March 26. At first it was a blessing because my mom was in the hospital, and because I wasn't working, I was able to visit and spend as much time with her as I wanted to. After she passed away, I was glad I wasn't working full-time because it gave me time to deal with her funeral and get her apartment cleaned out. Plus I had a Tres Dias retreat on May 17-20, and I was the rector for that. The month of May was very busy; too busy to even think about applying for a job.

I began looking for a job more diligently beginning in June. I registered with Monster.com and Careerbuilder.com and applied for every job that sounded interesting. I even applied for a few jobs outside of those two sites, but I didn't get a response. Not one. When I informed friends that I'd lost my job, almost everyone had a lead for me, and I followed up on every one of them, to no avail. This seemed really odd to me that out of all those resumes submitted and applications filed, I got not one phone call for an interview. A friend who just landed a new job and had been in the job search mode for months looked over my resume to see if I needed to tweak it. She saw nothing wrong with it; in fact, she said it was a very well prepared resume. So why no responses?

June came and went. July 8-12 my church held its vacation bible school, and I was the director. For the last 4 years I've been minimally involved in VBS due to working full-time, and doing VBS 5 nights in a row is draining. Again, I could see that being unemployed was a blessing in disguise because it gave me time to give my all to VBS. But once VBS was over, I had no more "reasons" to be unemployed and made up my mind to aggressively search for a job.

I spent most of Monday and Tuesday after VBS online, applying for job after job after job. Amazingly, Tuesday afternoon I got 2 phone calls. One was for a job placement agency and the other was with a vacation resort in Hershey. I interviewed with the agency on Wednesday and got established with them. On Monday I interviewed with the vacation resort. As I suspected, the job title was a decoy for promoting time shares. The pay was decent, but commission based. I would have to work fairs, malls, etc., signing people up for appointments with a salesperson, and earn a commission on each appointment kept. They have another job that's not available right now but he will let me know when it does--he said maybe 2-3 weeks. It's like a hotel concierge where I'd be helping guests with things like dinner reservations, directions, anything they'd need--and also get them to make an appointment to review and update their account. Again, I'd earn a commission on each appointment kept. However, this job requires working evenings and weekends. Evenings I would not mind, but come fall, I don't want to be working weekends because of Melinda's soccer games.

I also had another call last week for a customer service representative for an import company. I interviewed for that yesterday, and that was bizarre. The interviewer acted like ADHD on Red Bull and amphetamines. He talked so fast and with such a detached air that it turned me off. He said they were picking 5 candidates from everyone they interviewed yesterday and if I made the cut I'd get a phone call that evening. Well, I didn't get a phone call so obviously I didn't make the cut. I'm relieved--the place gave me the creeps. The men all wore suits and looked like members of the Mafia. The receptionist was young with big boobs and a low-cut shirt. She almost reminded me of Loni Anderson in WKRP in Cincinnati--like her job was simply to sit there and look cute. I was there for 30 minutes, waiting to be interviewed, and in that time she did nothing except answer 2 phone calls and try to make small talk with all the interviewees.

Last night a friend from church called with a job listing she saw in our local Shopper newspaper. I didn't get mine yet, so hopefully it will come in today's mail and I can apply. It's an administrative assistant position for a local counseling ministry. There's some involvement with clients, which is right up my alley. After working at the community health center, I know I have an aptitude for working with people who are hurting, so I can't wait to get my resume in for this job.

In the end, I know that God has something wonderful waiting for me, a job that will be a good fit. I liken the job situation to my marriage situation. I spent 18 years in a marriage that made me miserable. I tried--oh, how I tried--to make it work, to make it good, but with my ex-husband, I could not win. Because of my faith in God and my belief that marriage is a sacred covenant not to be broken, I never thought of leaving or asking him to leave. In the end he left, which freed me from the misery I was living under. Then God brought a male friend in my life which allowed me to learn how to relate to a good, kind man. I'd become so defensive, so insecure, walking on eggshells constantly, that I could not relax and just be myself. Having this male friend who accepted me and liked me just the way I am healed a lot of the hurts inside. Where my husband's leaving opened the door to my freedom, this friendship broke the chain that held me bound to the past. I remember praying one time with regard to this friendship, and I heard God speak to my heart: "This is a time of practice and preparation." At the time, those words seemed odd and I didn't know what they meant. Now I do, as I realize that my male friend is not "the one" but someone God provided in my life to help me heal and grow.

I think being fired from my job was in a sense the same as my husband leaving. I was in a job where everything I did was held under a microscope. I could not win--if I did this, I should have done that. I grew so fearful of making a mistake, and that fear caused me to make mistake after mistake. That, combined with a dysfunctional work environment, affected my job performance and I was let go. Since then I've done a lot of thinking and soul-searching as to what kind of job I'd want. I've held two leadership positions--Tres Dias rector and VBS director--and those experiences have given me confidence in my ability to work well with others. My old job had eroded that and made me feel like an outcast, like the kid picked last for the team--oh, we'll pick her but we don't want her. I think, just as my male friend has been a blessing to me, a "good fit" as a friend, I believe my new job will be a blessing and a good fit also. I believe God has given me this time, as he gave me my male friend, for preparation and practice for something wonderful. I eagerly await to see what His hands will provide.

Missing Mom 2

2007-07-24T20:42:00.000-04:00

My mom lived in a federally subsidized high-rise apartment building comprised of mostly senior citizens. She lived there about 2 years before she passed away. I spent a lot of time there, visiting mom, picking her up for doctor appointments, taking her shopping, running errands, etc., since she did not drive. I got to know some of the people who lived there who were friends of my mom. The last time I was at the apartment was on Memorial Day, our deadline date for moving out and returning the keys.

There was a mother and daughter who befriended my mom and helped her out a lot when I couldn't be there for her. Both of them are mildly retarded, the daughter is slightly deaf, but they are functional enough to live on their own. Since my mom died, the daughter calls me every few days, asking me how I'm doing, telling me how much she misses my mom, how much she loved my mom, and how much she loves me. She's been asking me to come visit, but I always came up with a good excuse why I couldn't. She called me on Sunday, asking when I could come over. I felt so guilty that I've been putting her off, so I said I'd be over on Tuesday.

On a side note, a few weeks ago I was cleaning and found a roll of film. I had no idea when the pictures were taken or what was on the film. I dropped them off at Rite Aid on Sunday, and since it was on my way, I picked them up tonight. They were pictures of the party I had for my son in October 2004 before he left for Iraq. The very first picture was of my mom and my son, and it was a most excellent picture of the both of them.

As I drove to the apartment building, I had feelings of dread. I knew why I avoided visiting; it would remind me of my mom. When I got there, the daughter was pacing on the sidewalk, waiting for me. She gave me a big bear hug when I got out of my car, and then walked ahead of me and plopped herself down in the lobby, where her mom and a few other residents were sitting. We talked about my mom, and the more time went on, the more uncomfortable I felt. I showed them the picture of my mom, and everyone agreed it was a good picture of her. We made small talk, but it was awkward. I stayed about 30 minutes, then left.

On the way home, my heart was heavy with grief, missing my mom, and the realization of how time goes on. I wanted to cry but the tears wouldn't come, it was just like a pressure in my chest, weighing me down.

I doubt I will go back to visit. It's too painful, too much there to remind me of my mom and time I spent with her. It's weird. Sometimes I'd go to my mom's apartment with a not-so-good attitude, resenting her dependency on me and her expectations that I should take care of her. But I did the right thing anyway, and I'm glad I did. I have no regrets, really, only that I wish my mom's health would have been better toward the end so we could have enjoyed doing things together instead of me just sitting by her hospital bed, rubbing her arms, putting lotion on her feet, trimming and filing her nails. Doing all those little things for her felt like ministry to me, an atoning for not being such a good daughter over the years. I always felt I was justified in my actions toward and reactions to my mom. She did some horrible things to me, she was a miserable person most of the time, and I felt that my obligation was simply to be a dutiful daughter, not a loving daughter. I was wrong. My anger, bitterness, and unforgiveness made things worse, not better. I just praise God that I was able to make peace with my mom, to forgive her, to forgive myself, to ask for her forgiveness, and allow God's peace to descend upon my heart. The last month of my mom's life may not have been pleasant for her from a health standpoint, but I know she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved her.

Missing Mom

2007-07-19T13:51:00.000-04:00

My mom passed away on May 1 after a long battle with COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease). She began smoking as a teenager and did not quit until November 2001 when she had a heart valve replacement. I suspect she still snuck a smoke now and then after that, but if she did, I did not catch her at it.

[The picture here is, unfortunately, the only one I have stored on my computer of my mom. I don't have a scanner or I'd post a better one. The picture is from Thanksgiving 2006--my mom is being hugged hard by her granddaughter.]

My relationship with my mom was rocky. She was an abusive person, and I struggled to accept and love her. For years I resented having her as my mother, wishing she was more normal, kinder, more thoughtful, sweeter. She had her moments of normalcy, but for the most part she was negative, jealous, and mean-spirited.

A few years ago, after a particularly provoking phone conversation with my mom, I slammed the phone down and cried out to God: "Why do I have to have a mother like her?!?!?!" I went to my bedroom and laid across the bed, and I had a mental picture of a little dark-haired, dark-eyed girl who was beaten down in every way. I instinctively knew this was my mom, and I believe God gave me that picture to help me see her the way HE saw her. From that point on I was able to show my mom a little more grace and mercy. Not that things were perfect; she didn't change and she still often worked on my very last nerve, but I was able to hold my tongue instead of lashing out. And there were times I still lashed out...it just took me longer to get to that point.

On Monday, March 26, I lost my job. My mom had been hospitalized on Friday, March 23, with breathing problems. This was an on-going thing. She'd be hospitalized, go through breathing treatments and rehab, and be sent home, only to repeat the process a few months later. On Wednesday, March 28, I got a phone call from the hospital at 7:30AM that my mom had stopped breathing and was unresponsive. In other words, she'd passed away. I asked the doctor if I should come to the hospital and he said there was no need. However, while we were talking, they were doing CPR and defibrillation and my mom responded. She was placed in ICU, where she stayed for a few weeks, and then she was transferred to an acute long-term hospital. Because I was not working, I was able to spend a lot of time with her.

Let me back up a minute. The day my mom was resuscitated, I was able to make peace with her. Even though she was in a coma, I sat by her bedside and asked her to forgive me for not being a better daughter. I told her I forgave her for all the things she'd done over the years. The Bible talks about the peace that passes all understanding. I might not understand that peace, but I surely have experienced it.

I visited my mom almost every day; often spending 5 or more hours sitting by her bedside. Some days she was alert and could hold a conversation. But most days she dozed in and out and her mental state was confused. She wore a bi-pap machine most of the time, so she couldn't talk if she wanted to. And her oxygen levels would fluctuate, causing the drowsiness and mental confusion.

Mom was transferred to a nursing home on Friday, April 28. She was doing fairly well, and they were talking about her doing rehab and possibly getting strong enough to return to her apartment. I visited her on Monday, and the activities director stopped by to tell my mom of the various things they offered. Mom was excited to learn they played bingo a couple times a week. I was working on a talk I had to give at a women's retreat that ran May 17-20, and as I was tweaking it, I told my mom that one of my fears was that she was going to pass away before the retreat. Because she was doing so well, I didn't feel out of line saying this to her. She looked me straight in the eye and in a clear strong voice said, "Oh, don't worry about me, I'm not going anywhere!"

The next morning around 7:30 my phone rang. It was the nursing home, telling me my mom had passed away in her sleep. It was a shock because of how well she'd been doing, but I knew that every breath was a struggle for her, and her body just gave up.

A miracle occurred after my mom passed away. I could think about her, talk about her, and for some reason none of the bad stuff from the past mattered any more. It's not like my memory was erased; I still remember. But the anger, bitterness, rage, frustration, and resentment was gone. Totally gone. That could only be a gift from God.

There are times I miss my mom. I wish I could show her the pocketbook I made for Melinda and the monkey cell phone case I made for myself. I wish she were here so I could make a magnet, just for her. I wish I could tell her about my Tres Dias weekend as women's rector and all the blessings I received from that. I wish I could tell her about my experience as VBS director last week. Things I know she'd be proud of and brag about to her friends. I know, that sounds a tad self-serving, but it feels weird not to have a mom to share things with. There are times when the phone rings and my first thought is "it's Mom." Then I realize, it's not and never will be. There are times I wish I could call her, just to talk, even though most of our conversations ended in frustration on my end.

Honestly, I don't think it matters so much if our relationship with our mom was good or bad, a blessing or a burden, when they're gone, we miss them.

Not So Different

2007-07-18T09:49:00.000-04:00

When I was younger, I used to feel that there was a time the rules of life were handed out, but somehow I missed the call to show up. It seemed to me that everyone else just knew what to do. They knew what to say, how to act, how to interact with others, whereas I felt totally inept, different, and wrong.

Even as an adult there were things I did not attempt because I did not know how. I remember when Doug started kindergarten, I hesitated to sign up as a room mother because I didn't know how. I helped out in the classroom a few times and realized I loved being with the kids, and from then on served as a room mom for both Doug and Melinda's elementary years. I loved it, and I was good at it. As I grew more comfortable being involved in school activities, I spread my wings into doing pre-school story hour and volunteering in the library.

I realize now my initial trepidation about being a room mother was rooted in my own insecurities, wanting to please others, afraid to make a mistake, looking to others for validation, and believing that others are right. It's been a long slow journey but I have grown past those misconceptions that held me back from doing what I want and being who I am.

I always felt so different from everyone else, but as I've talked to others, I realize they, too, deal with insecurities in some form or another. I was shocked to learn that one of my dearest friends, who I consider a very confident, self-assured woman, struggles with worrying about what people think of her. A light bulb went off in my head at that moment: I'll just bet most or all of these people that I have looked up to because they confidently go through life are just doing what I do: acting as if. It's kind of ironic that those I've held up as an ideal are closer to the way I am than the perfection I thought I saw.

It's a weird feeling, after all these years of feeling so different from everyone else, to know that I'm not that different, that I'm, in fact, fairly normal. It's also gratifying to know that my efforts over all these years to accept myself and have faith in myself have paid off. For a long time I tried to change myself, and failed miserably. Then I placed myself in God's hands, and like the potter shapes the clay, He has smoothed out the rough spots and created a vessel for His use.

Me, Obnoxious?

2007-07-17T17:20:00.000-04:00

I was told recently, by two people near and dear to me, that I am somewhat obnoxious when it comes to my creations. No, not 'somewhat' obnoxious, almost unbearably obnoxious. I just get so excited when I create something! Honestly, I don't feel like I'm "all that"--I'm just sincerely amazed at what I have done. Amazed...and proud. I'm trying to think how I feel when someone else goes on and on about their accomplishments, and I realize that most others don't act like I do and make a big deal out of things they've done. They're more subdued. Ah well, maybe my critics are right...I'm obnoxious.

Three years ago I started crocheting a pocketbook for my daughter's 16th birthday. The pattern was complicated and I had to start over several times because I'd make a mistake. See, I was taking the project along with me to soccer games and other events and not really concentrating on my crocheting. I put it aside...for over two years! Finally I decided to just do my own pattern. I finished in time for her 19th birthday in June.

It hurt to be told I act obnoxiously. That's not a label I want applied to me. I guess I need to pray for balance and humility, so that I can create without offending others in my excitement.

On the other hand, why can't we call our creations as we see them? Why do we have to act all humble and almost ashamed for being creative? What's worse: Claiming your creation is good or saying it's not all that great? Even God, when creating earth and everything in it, called His creation good. He didn't say "Aw, it's nothing!"

Receiving the Gift

2007-07-15T14:33:00.000-04:00

After I wrote that last post, I realized that throughout my life, my problem hasn't been so much giving the gift of agape love, but receiving it. I don't feel I deserve it. I grew up believing that my performance, my words and my actions, dictated the measure of love I received. I do good--I am loved. I do bad--I am rejected. So my family relationships, friendships, and even my marriage suffered as I was constantly striving to please, rather than just being myself--trying to figure out what it was the other person wanted from me, then doing or being it.

Even now, if I feel I've offended a friend, if I've committed a faux pas, if I feel I am not all they want me to be, I get very stressed out, waiting for them to yank their love away from me. I live in fear that what I did may just be the straw that broke the camel's back, causing my friend to say "that's it, I don't want to be your friend anymore!" I apologize profusely--too much, really--but worried that it's NOT enough and want to be absolutely positively sure that what I did is truly forgiven. To think that someone might be holding something against me makes me feel terribly insecure, so I want to make sure the slate is kept clear.

I think part of why I feel this way is because of past experience. My mom withheld love as a means of punishment or a show of anger. Even when I was very young, she literally would not talk to me for sometimes a day or two if I did something bad. And I had no defense, no chance to explain my side of the story. Punishment was doled out solely at the whim of my mom's ever-changing moods. Then, I married a man who withheld affection, affirmation, encouragement, and support when he felt I did not deserve it--and that was most of the time. Because of these two significant people in my life, the message came through loud and clear: measure up or we won't love you.

At 52 years old, I am just learning that people can be mad at me and love me at the same time. I'm learning that people can be annoyed by a personality trait or things I say or do and still want to be my friend. I'm learning people can love me in spite of my imperfections (which are many). I'm learning that agape love covers these rough spots by looking beyond the external and loving the internal.

The Gift

2007-07-15T00:03:00.000-04:00

God has blessed me in many ways, but the gift I am most honored, humbled, and grateful for is the ability to show agape love to others. It's not as easy as it sounds; in fact, it takes a lot of effort. People are ugly, sometimes, and loving them is hard to do. Agape love is unconditional, undeserved love that overlooks the unattractive, undesirable parts of a person. It's too easy to focus on those parts and reject a person than to love them anyway. I had a situation this past week where someone sowed strife into my life. I was hurt by this, mainly because I work very hard at loving this person in spite of their feelings toward me. Just when I thought I got that situation resolved, another one came up. What I want to do is yell and scream and rant and rave and tear that other person, verbally, to shreds. But I hold my tongue and cry in private because I don't want to make the situation worse. I'm not saying I won't address the problem or try to work things out, but right now I'm too emotional for it to be a productive effort.

There is a friend in my life whom I've felt drawn to, almost like magnet to steel. From the very beginning of our friendship, I have felt compelled to shower this individual with agape love. But it's not returned, and it hurts to know that I am giving more than I get back. I know that doesn't sound very Christ-like, but I'm just saying how I feel. It makes it hard to love because our hearts want to know that our efforts are appreciated.

God has also blessed me with the gift of discernment. He has enabled me to see past the surface and into a person's heart to what they need. Most everyone needs encouragement and affirmation, but sometimes I'll see something there that's more than that. I have been used by God at times to bless and encourage someone by praying for them even though I'm not quite sure what I'm praying about. I'm thinking right now of a specific instance where I felt God nudging me to pray for a woman. I did, not knowing what I was going to say, and the words flowed. Afterward she told me how specific my words were to her emotional state. That could only be God.

What bothers me is when agape love is lacking within the church. Sometimes there's almost a mentality of "you made your bed, lie in it" instead of showing love toward one another. And we within the church have the same interpersonal problems the world does. We get jealous, catty, cliqish, and filled with our own self-importance. True agape love could smooth over these potholes, but we withold that love because we think the other person doesn't deserve it.

Think about this: What if Jesus refused to go to the cross because He felt we did not deserve his atoning, redemptive death? Can we not follow His loving example and make an effort to show agape love to our family, friends, church family, and neighbors?

Hope vs. Expectation

2007-07-11T14:58:00.001-04:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about hope versus expectation. Hope is what a child feels before Christmas as they gaze upon the presents under the tree...hoping that those packages contain what they'd hoped for. The child may experience mild disappointment when the desired gift is not received, but they're happy with what they have and hope maybe next time they'll get what they want.

Expectation is almost the same thing as hope, only it carries more of a determination that this is the way things should be. So when the child doesn't get the desired gift, they pout and fuss and make a scene because they feel they should get what they want.

In my own life, I have an expectation to have a job within the next few weeks. My hope is that it will be a pleasant job situation that utilizes my skills and abilities in a positive way. In this situation I can more easily control the expectation than the hope. I could take a job, any job, and that would fufill my expectations, but it would not necessarily satisfy the hope I have of it being an ideal job for me.

Expectations can really throw a monkey-wrench into our personal relationships. We all have expectations of how others should or shouldn't act, how they should treat us, etc. Within our closest relationships, we have to make choices as to what expectations are non-negotiable. We may have an expectation that our child become an outstanding athlete and expose him to all kinds of sports. But when it becomes obvious that our child's interest and abilities are elsewhere, we need to let go of that expectation. I think we've all seen a child forced to live up to a parent's expectations. The child will often rebel against having unwanted expectations placed on them.

All of us have a different set of standards, and within the context of marriage that can become tricky. It's up to the spouses to decide which expectations they're willing to ease up on and which ones are carved in stone. Sometimes we sense another person has unspoken expectations of us, and it makes us uneasy. Knowing what another's expectations are helps maintain a semblance of harmony, but sometimes it's hard to be yourself when you feel as if the other person doesn't really approve of your behavior.

I have been friends with a good Christian man for three years. Two years prior to meeting him, I made a list of the qualities I want in a husband, should I ever remarry. After getting to know this man, he met almost all of my criteria; in fact, the list reads like a spot-on description of him. However, he made it clear from the start he was not interested in marriage, only friendship. Because he is so close to my ideal man, my hope was that he might change his mind. Finally, I had to let go of that hope because I knew in my heart that he would never change. But I still wanted to be his friend. Had I had expectations of him, I would have never been able to 'just' be his friend. I would have been angry because he isn't different, because he isn't the way I want him to be. I wouldn't have maintained a friendship with him for three years because I would have long ago grown weary of waiting.

My mistake was letting him know how I felt about him and letting him know how close he was to my ideal man. He interpreted my revelation as an expectation when, in fact, I was simply letting him know I gave up hope. In my mind, I was giving him this awesome gift of friendship with no strings attached, and it hurts to have it rejected. And I think that as I tried to make things right, I made them worse and may have ruined the friendship beyond repair. I don't expect our friendship to be what it once was, but I do hope that we can remain friends.

Relationships

2007-07-09T22:08:00.000-04:00

God created us to be in relationships with others. We cannot obey His commandment to 'be fruitful and multiply' without being in, at the very least, a physical relationship with someone else. But He wants it to be more than that...He wants a man and a woman to come together under the covenant of marriage and raise our sons and daughters. He wants us to be in fellowship with not only our biological brothers and sisters but also our spiritual ones.

It amazes me that in spite of our humanity we have been able to perpetuate the species all these thousands of years. Wars, divorces, feuds, bigotry, prejudice, hatred, and all sorts of divisiveness has tried to keep people apart, but we go on.

Agape love is the key to unity and living in peace with one another. Agape love allows us to love another person in spite of their humanness, in spite of their faults, flaws, and foibles. Agape love is what Paul talked about in "the love chapter" First Corinthians 13. That is the love that surprises others, and sometimes surprises us. It's a love that we know we don't deserve, yet receiving it makes us feel so good. It's a love that we know others don't deserve, yet giving it makes us feel so good. It may puzzle us, but we know it's right.

Agape love isn't easy, but it's worth it. How many times do we not want to show agape love because we feel the need to be right, or we don't want to be the one who bends, or we just don't want to. Read this chapter. Think about each verse and think about whether you practice agape love.

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." 1 Corinthians 13 (NIV)

Creativity & Scrapcrafting III

2007-07-09T15:36:00.000-04:00

I was recently told I am not a "scrapcrafter"--I am a "mixed media artist." Wow, that sounds like an official title! I like it!

Cold Turkey

2007-07-08T13:39:00.000-04:00

In August 1998, I began taking antidepressants. At that time I had a good reason to be on them. My husband was involved in an extramarital affair, which I'd been aware of for almost a year, and I was working hard to present an outward image of normalcy to my kids, family, and friends. I was praying he would end the affair and make the choice to return to our marriage, and the less people who knew about it, the better. However, the affair continued. In August I finally made an appointment with a marriage counselor in last-ditch attempt to salvage my marriage. After our first visit, the counselor advised me to make an appointment ASAP with my family doctor for anti-anxiety and anti-depressant meds. She told me months later that her initial assessment of me was that I was very close to having a nervous breakdown--the stay-in-the-psych-ward type of breakdown. Over the years my body became dependent upon the antidepressants. Any attempt at going off of them would throw me into an emotional crash and I'd beg to be put back on them.

A little over a month ago a screw-up with my health insurance coverage kept me from getting my antidepressants refilled for 2 weeks. I realize I could have called my doctor and gotten some interim meds, but I was feeling so good that I decided to go without the meds and see what happened. Not medically advisable, but praise God the crash never came. But over the past week or so I've noticed I'm more cranky, irritable and sensitive than usual. One day it hit me. This is what life was like before the antidepressants. These are the emotions I used to feel but that have been dulled by the meds. It's not pleasant but I've made up my mind to deal with it. THIS IS LIFE! Life is tough. Life isn't always fun. God gave us our emotions for a reason, and to try to dull them because they make us feel bad isn't beneficial at all. I came across this quote this morning, and it seems quite appropriate: God’s will is not that we should every moment feel happy, but that we should every moment be holy.

Maybe a little depression is normal because of our human nature. Because we are sinners, we instinctively know we are not all we can be. We fall short of the ideal. Our lives are a constant striving toward the perfection we will never attain, and we grow frustrated in those efforts. Plus, a lot of us compare ourselves to others, thinking other people have it much more together than we do...when the truth of the matter is they're often just as insecure as we are, maybe more so. Some folks are just better at hiding it, or not talking about it.

We don't like to hurt, that's for sure. We take painkillers for physical pain and psych drugs for emotional and mental pain. Pain isn't always bad, though. Uncomfortable, to be sure, but pain is an indicator something is wrong. We can alleviate the pain, but if we don't do anything to remove the source of the pain, we are not helping ourselves. It's like taking aspirin for an abcessed tooth. The aspirin will relieve the pain temporarily, but the pain will recur until the tooth is removed. And if the tooth is not removed, the poison from the abcess will spread through the body and cause more problems. The same is true with mental and emotional pain. As long as we ignore the source of our emotional pain, or dull it with medication, we will not heal. Sometimes we just have to make the hard choice to grit our teeth and bear the pain, especially with issues that are out of our control. A lot of times we cannot change our circumstances but we can change our attitude. Sometimes we just need to talk to someone--a pastor, a good friend, a counselor. And sometimes the whole situation is just between us and God...a matter of prayer, laying our problems before Him and waiting for His answer and direction.

Pet Peeves - Shopping

2007-07-06T09:41:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I worry that I am turning into a cranky old lady. The older I get, I find myself growing more irritated and intolerant, and it takes great effort for me to show grace and mercy.

Going shopping--especially at the grocery store--presents a lot of challenges for me. I just want to go into a store, get what I need, and get out. I don't want anything to stand in the way of realizing that goal. Grocery stores make it almost impossible to navigate the aisles by placing free-standing displays along the way that cause jam-ups when two carts want to get by. I refuse to buy an item off of a free-standing display just for that reason. Of course, I'll buy the same item off the shelf, so my protest against floor displays sends absolutely no message to the store or manufacturer!

Shoppers, in general, irritate me. Top of the list are lolly-gaggers, who wander through the store, totally oblivious to the fact there are other people around them. They stand in the middle of an aisle, trying to figure out where they want to go, blocking passage of other customers. They leave their cart parked here and go looking for an item there. They wander slowly, then stop abruptly.

Then you have the yuppie mommy (or daddy--but we'll go with mommy here) with her preschooler in tow. Either she'll allow the little one to push a kiddie cart, which in my opinion should be banned from stores, or she'll have the tot in one of those monstrous carts that looks like an oversized Little Tykes toy. Don't get me started on kiddie carts. I let my daughter push one when she was about 3 or 4 years old, once and done. I would not inflict that source of irritation on other shoppers again.

Now the cart situation is irritating enough; but then you have the mommy who uses the grocery store as an educational experience for their child. Nothing wrong with that, except when the mommy is loudly trying to impress everyone in the store with how bright her child is. It sets my teeth on edge when I get stuck following such a mommy through the store, listening to her sing-song voice saying, "What color is that? Blue? That's right! How do you spell blue? B-L-U-E! Good job!" and then slyly looking around to make sure everyone is duly impressed with her child's obvious brilliance. Please understand, I'm all for encouraging children's learning; just don't force me to listen to it while I'm shopping.

Another irritation is people who do not put their carts back into the corral. I have seen people on crutches, hobbling behind a cart through the store, and then after loading their car, diligently take the cart to the corral. I've also seen seemingly healthy able-bodied people empty their cart, then leave it by their car instead of returning it to the corral. It's irritating to find an empty parking space, then not be able to use it because a cart is in the way. It's even more irritating to have a dent or scratch on your car from a runaway cart that was not corralled.

A few weeks ago I emailed a local store to ask what the protocol was when a person is in the "15 items or less" lane with clearly more than 15 items. That day I was in one of their stores to pick up 3 items. The woman in front of me had 32 items (I counted) and had sent her daughter for two items they forgot--a total of 34 items. The cashier didn't say anything, but I was irritated, as were the people behind me. The response to my email stated that if a cashier sees a customer with more than the suggested items in their cart, he or she can tell the customer to go to another lane. However, if the customer has already placed their items on the conveyor, they usually let it go. So there you go folks, if you want to use the express lane with more than the suggested items, just be quick and get your items on the belt before the cashier notices and you'll get away with it. Of course, you'll tick off everyone behind you--I just hope I'm not one of them!

One Big Sigh

2007-07-05T21:19:00.000-04:00

I spent today fighting off anxiety and panic. First of all, my job situation. I've been sending out resumes but haven't heard anything back. I can't go on without a job forever, but when I pray about it, God just tells me to relax, He's taking care of everything. And He has...but fear is trying to creep in.

Second of all, my church's vacation bible school starts on Sunday. I'm in charge, and that's a dangerous thing! I'm not an organizer, but I have a good team working with me. I am in charge of decorations, and do I have anything even started? Not really. My ex-husband's church did the same VBS program, and his wife donated some decorations for us to use, for which I'm grateful, and we already decided not to go overboard with decorating. I'll get it done. I work best under pressure.

The third anxiety provoker is the spiritual condition of my children. From the time they were born, I've taken them to church, had them involved in Sunday school, VBS, youth groups, and other activities. When they were young, I prayed with them, told them Bible stories, and lived a life of Christian witness and conduct before them. But as they grew older, I wasn't so diligent. I depended more on the church to teach them and nurture their spiritual growth. My heart's desire is to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that both of my children have a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ and are living in surrender and obedience to Him.

On top of this all I'm fighting a pit of loneliness in my heart. My son lives at his dad's house, and my daughter spends most of her time there. It's been 9 years since my ex-husband moved out, and God has not seen fit to bring a new love into my life. He has blessed me with a male friend, for which I am grateful, but there's no hope of it being anything more than friendship. I talk to my cat, but he doesn't talk back. I talk to myself, and then I worry that I'm going crazy! I have my circle of friends, and I'm so grateful for and blessed by them I can't even begin to tell...but at 9:30 on a Thursday night, they're with their spouses, and I'm home alone. I'm not jealous or envious or bitter or angry...just lonely. I've put everything into God's hands. Maybe I'm meant to be alone so He can use me in a way He could not if I were married. Maybe my 'knight in shining armor' is right over the horizon. One thing I am sure of is that this time of no job, no marriage or romantic involvement, and no clear vision of my future has a purpose that God will reveal to me in His time.

Fourth of July

2007-07-04T21:59:00.000-04:00

I cannot even bring myself to say "happy fourth of July" because it just didn't seem like a holiday to me...other than the fireworks going off all over the place. I guess not having a job makes this just like any other day, If I was working, I'd be so grateful for a day off! I remember as a kid, the 4th of July was the midway point between the end of one school year and the beginning of the next. We always had a cookout, sparklers, and then went to see fireworks in the evening. No stores or businesses were open. It was truly a holiday. Now it's a big sale day for stores and life as usual for most folks. I don't think too many people really think about why we celebrate this day, not only what happened on July 4, 1776, but the events that led up to our founding fathers making that declaration of independence from England's rule. Do we even have men of that caliber in American anymore? Men who stand for what is right, not what is prudent. Men who put valor and courage, virtue and bravery ahead of all else. Honestly, I don't see many men like this around.

I ended up going to a cookout a couple from my church was having. The weather was off-and-on rain, but then it cleared up and we built a campfire. There's not much I like better than sitting around a campfire, but the melancholies hit me while I was staring into the flames. Just how much life has changed...remembering another picnic at this house shortly after I began attending my church. Melinda was still in diapers, and now she's 19. I was thinking of the children of everyone present, where they are now, what they're doing, and how it doesn't seem that long ago when they would have all been there with us, running around catching lightning bugs, swimming in the pool (which they have since gotten rid of), playing tag, etc. I felt like my body was in one time zone but my heart was in another. And part of me wanted to sit by the fire forever and another part of me just wanted to come home and cry over what once was but no longer is.

I know a big part of life is acceptance of what we have no control over. We birth our babies and the next thing they're off to college. Marriages end, people die, friendships fade. We do great things and shameful things and we need to give love and receive love throughout it all. There's no way I'd ever want to go back and relive my life; I just wish it wasn't going by so fast!!!!

Creativity & Scrapcrafting II

2007-07-02T15:34:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago I took my best friend Vicki to Longwood Gardens, about a 2-hour drive from here, ( http://www.longwoodgardens.org/ ) to celebrate her birthday. I did not tell her where we were going but made her an 11-page "activity book." On the last page was a picture of our destination. I wrapped each page separately, and every so many miles I'd tell her to open one. The first page had a small foam crown that I decorated gaudily and made into a pin. I wrote on it "Queen for a Day" and told her she had to wear it all day--which she did (what a friend!) One page had a recipe, another a joke, some were silly, some were inspirational and encouraging. The pages started out as inserts in a photo album. I went through all my photo albums a few weeks ago, and one of them had heavy paper inserts in the photo sleeves. At first I was going to throw them out, but then realized they might come in handy for a project. They have a hole punched in the middle of one end, and when I did the activity booklet, I just put a ring binder in that hole to hold it together.

I discovered a small supply of business-card magnets that I bought for a church project years ago, and I've had great fun decorating them for friends. The weird thing is that I don't sit down with a plan and build on that. Most times I have no clue what I'm going to do...just a quote or a picture to get me started. I don't feel like I'm creating but that I'm being led.

I have a big shoe box where I keep my "embellishments". Having a ready supply of ribbon, twine, wire, netting, rhinestones, quotes and blurbs, etc., made is easy to create. Vicki's activity book was made entirely from stuff I cut out of old Women's World magazines. Some of it I retyped, but most of it I just pasted in a collage-type fashion onto the cards.

So often when I show off my creations, someone will say I should go into business. The thing is that usually my projects are specific to a friend, plus there's a lot of time involved in making them. I think doing it as a business would stifle my creativity and make it not so much fun. The enjoyment of doing these projects is the joy I feel in making something personal and specific for a friend. It is a means for me to bless others.

Scrapcrafting isn't just about using scraps of stuff in creative ways. It's also using everyday objects in creative ways. My friend Stacey is a Stampin' Up consultant and has every tool that comes down the pike for punching holes. Me, I use an ice pick. It works...I just have to be careful! Tools do make it easier, but part of the creativity is figuring out a way to achieve desired results using what is on hand.

I'm grateful for the time to allow my creative side to be exposed and "exercised." I'm amazing myself with each project I do.

Creativity & Scrapcrafting

2007-07-02T11:25:00.000-04:00

Since I've been without a job, I've worked on a lot of craft projects. I finished crocheting my daughter's pocketbook that I started 3 years ago as a gift for her 16th birthday. I even sewed a lining for it, and it turned out quite well. I'm working on an afghan as a Christmas gift. A friend gave me instructions for making a rag quilt along with a gift card for JoAnn Fabrics to get started. Last week I picked out the fabrics and spent a good chunk of a day cutting out 7" squares from the 3 fabrics and flannel lining.

Recently I crocheted a cell phone case in the shape of a monkey. It was just an idea I had--I didn't use a pattern, but just created it out of my head. It turned out really well...and I'm amazed by the fact that I did it without a pattern.

My most interesting and gratifying creations, though, come from what I call scrap crafting. I've made greeting cards, books, magnets, and other trinkets by using bits and pieces of paper, ribbon, twine, etc. I don't throw anything out that has crafting potential. Some of the paper scraps I have come from when I was working and I'd make information cards about our program. I'd print the cards on bright colored card stock and then cut them out. I'd end up with 1" strips of paper from the margins. Because these strips would have been thrown out by anyone else, I did not feel bad bringing them home, and I use them a lot in my crafting. I also have a plastic page protector where I keep all my scraps of paper. It's amazing how many times a tiny piece of paper is just what I need for a project.

Popularity

2007-07-02T11:20:00.000-04:00

I feel kind of funny admitting this, but when I was growing up, the thing I wanted most was to be popular. One of the in-crowd. One of the girls that other girls wanted to be like, who was admired, feared, and who ruled the others with the power of personality. Unfortunately, I did not have the slightest idea how popularity was cultivated or maintained, plus I lacked what I perceived to be the necessities to be a popular girl--looks, money, a killer body, and a wardrobe to match. And, yeah, some of the popular girls had brains too.

Like I said, I had no clue how to go about obtaining what I wanted so much. When I tried to mimic the popular girls, I only embarrassed myself with my foolish behavior. I didn't realize that in junior and high school, popularity is largely superficial. Instead of developing my inside, I worked on the outside. So even when people got to know me, it didn't take long for them to find out there wasn't a lot of substance behind the facade. I was overly sensitive, too, and it didn't take much for me to pick up on rejection, criticism, or ridicule--whether intended or not. I didn't choose my friends; I waited for people to choose me. And of course, friendships aren't one-sided, so people did reach out to me, they didn't get a reciprocal response, and they gave up....and then I felt rejected, etc. all over again. Insecurity and worry about what others thought of me kept me from revealing my true self. I believed that to fit in, I had to be like those around me. I somehow got the notion that people could only accept others who were like them.

This yearning to be accepted and liked followed me into my adult years. I remember one time early in my marriage--my mother-in-law and 2 sister-in-laws were invited to some kind of home party by a friend of the family. I was not invited. I still see myself preparing dinner, crying the whole time because I felt left out and rejected. It reinforced my notion that I was not and could never be popular because if I were, surely I'd be invited everywhere. I had people in my life but I couldn't call them true friends; they were merely acquaintances that I hung out with.

Over the years people would tell me I was nice, warm, friendly...but I'd dismiss their comments as flattery because if I were popular, I'd have more friends. I'd have more of a social life. I'd be happier. Fast forward to 1998-99 when I was in counseling due to my husband's infidelity and subsequent leaving. I remember my counselor telling me that I was the "personality" in the marriage, that people were drawn to me, not him. What a revelation! Hmmm...maybe those positive comments were sincere rather than empty praise. I began to see myself in a different light.

I can't say that one day everything clicked or that a thunderbolt from above revealed the secret of popularity to me, but as the years went by, I found myself making more and more friends and found it easier to be a friend. My insecurities slowly held less power over my words and actions. By observing others with good social skills, I learned that popular people pay attention to others, are thoughtful, kind, easy-going, able to hold their tongue when necessary, and not afraid to let others know they love them.

Which brings us to my life today. I have an incredible circle of friends, not acquaintances. Rarely does a day go by that someone doesn't tell me, via email, phone call, card or note, or face to face, that they love me. Finally...40 years in the making...but I am finally a popular person! And the most ironic thing is that it's not something I've been seeking. It just kind of happened. Actually it seems as if when I let go of wanting it and striving for it, it came to me.

I give praise to God for transforming me from a shy, insecure, socially-awkward wannabe to a woman who draws people to her. The "popularity" I enjoy now is beyond anything I could have imagined all those years ago. I'm not pretty or rich, and I definitely don't have a killer bod or a fashionable wardrobe. I'm not even that smart! But God has given me a heart for people, a discerning spirit that knows when to encourage, when to comfort, when to speak, and when to be silent. He's enabled me to strip away all that kept me bound and be a free-spirited, goofy, fun-to-be-with person who is not afraid to show love, acceptance, and caring to others.

I give God all the praise and glory for who I am, for who I am in Him, for who He created me to be, and for the freedom to discover and allow myself to be that woman.

Gluten Intolerance

2007-07-02T07:09:00.000-04:00

For most of my adult life, I've been overweight. I was at an ideal weight when I got pregnant with my son, who was born in 1984, but since then have not been able to take the weight off. I've been on diet after diet, but my efforts have been in vain.

My health deteriorated over the years because of my poor eating habits and being overweight. I developed type 2 diabetes and have struggled to be compliant with diet, exercise, and meds. I eventually was put on insulin, which was traumatic for me. Yet it was not enough to make me do what I need to do to keep my blood sugars in check. It was also becoming harder and harder for me to maintain normal blood sugar levels. In the past, all I had to do is cut back on sugar and carbs and within a day or two they'd be normal. That is not enough to do the trick anymore.

Near the end of March, I noticed a rash on the inside of my knees and back of my arms. I also had breakouts on my forearms that looked like blisters. I attributed it to stress in dealing with being fired from my job and my mom's near-death experience and hospitalization.

In all my efforts at losing weight, the one thing I never done was eliminate gluten. I'd been on low-carb and low-glycemic diets, and I'd do well for awhile. Then I'd lose control. For some reason it occurred to me that maybe my rash was due to gluten intolerance. A former coworker suffered from severe celiac disease, and I remembered her breakouts when exposed to gluten.

I stopped eating bread, pasta, and other flour-containing foods mid-April, and the results were almost miraculous. I could feel my energy level increasing, the brain-fog lifting, and I felt better than I had in many many years. My blood sugar readings began to decline, and my rash and outbreaks started to clear up.

There is a gluten-free shop near here, and I stopped in to check it out a few weeks ago. I was the only customer in the store, and the owner spent a lot of time talking to me about celiac disease. I still had the rash and some breakouts and showed them to her. She said that although she is not a doctor, she and two of her children have celiac, and that my rash was clearly the result of gluten intolerance.

Two months later, I've lost 20 pounds and I feel fantastic. I am no longer taking my antidepressants and did not suffer the usual crash after stopping them. Living gluten-free is not as difficult as I feared it would be. The bottom line is reading labels and being careful when eating out. There are a lot of GF products available, and they are carried in regular grocery stores as well as health food stores. They cost a bit more than regular foods, but to me it's worth it, an investment in my health.

I have a routine doctor visit scheduled some time this month, and I know he will be thrilled with my weight loss and renewed health.

Dear Diary

2007-07-02T06:53:00.000-04:00

Over a year ago I created a blog but I was not diligent in maintaining it, so I deleted it. However, so much has happened in my life this year, and I feel the need to keep a written record of what's been going on, so I'm back at it. Another purpose for this blog is to give testimony, glory, and honor to God's working in my life.

This year has been one of the most tumultuous in my life. The two big events were losing my job on March 26 and losing my mom on May 1. God's presence, guidance, comfort, and provision through this time has been amazing, the stuff that I used to think only happened to a precious few people, never me.

I have shared a lot of my life via email with online groups, and for me writing is therapeutic and necessary. I also enjoy writing. I love words, putting them together in an attempt to make what I write as interesting as possible. I strive to use words creatively, not be redundant or boring, and write with clarity and honesty. I believe it's a God-given talent, and I pray I will use it to His honor and glory.