demons

I heard a song today that I once sang in church as a solo.  The lyrics resonated again with me in this particular moment of my life: 

There's a whole lot of demons in this room
And none of them believe in fighting fair
Some sit on my left
Some sit on my right
They talk so loud it's hard to disagree
I'm surrounded by the demons in this room
And there's no one here but me

 

Lately, it feels like the only news I get is bad news.  The burdens that weigh on me just get heavier and more difficult to bear.  It's like when my trainer has me lifting and the first few go fine, but with more repetitions, I'm literally struggling to complete each lift, grimacing in pain, to the point I want to collapse.  Most days anymore I have to give myself a pep talk to face my burdens all over again and to not feel like I'm running on some sort of wicked treadmill. 



 

I believe demons are alive and well.  They know my insecurities, my fears, and which buttons to push to cause me to doubt myself and to feel uncertain.  In these valleys of life, I have to actively struggle and fight with demons that surround me.  I don't always win.  All the while, I'm trying to draw near to God.  Daily I remind myself to BE STILL and to wait on the Lord and his promises for me.  It's hard when I don't get the immediate answers and immediate healing I crave.  I know he's not giving up on me, even when I'm tempted to give up on myself.  I know he's rooting for me.  I know he has plans for me and my life.  But those demons are so powerful. 

 

I missed church for the first time I can really recall in many, many months this past weekend.  I was feeling quite ill and would have had to drive myself and my body just wasn't up for it.  Happily, our church records the sermons and I was able to view it Monday evening.  I sat sobbing as my pastor described my life - the struggle of waiting when you've been broken and things just don't feel as if they're coming together.  I knew God put those words in my pastor's heart and mind to speak to me and others like me who need to be told to keep the faith, to draw near, to trust in God's character and His promises.  He isn't giving up on me.  He knows how far down the forces of evil can pull the heart and spirit of a person who is experiencing profound stress, heartbreak, disappointment, loneliness, confusion, etc.  But I do know His love can reach further, pull harder, and heal me better than anything the enemy has to offer. 

 

Changing the Way I Do Business

Looking back on a string of relationships that ended with hurt and heartache, I've always been cognizant of the fact that I am the common denominator in those relationships.  And while I'm not willing to take responsibility or blame for others who chose to cheat, lie, verbally abuse, steal, etc., it occurs to me that I do have something for which I'm responsible.  I have consistently chosen men who a) were not truly invested in a relationship with God, and b) were not interested in or committed to self-improvement.

 

No matter how nice, giving, loving, attentive, or thoughtful they were (at least for a while), their true self rose to the surface, acted out, and a more self-centered persona was eventually exposed.  What I tend to hear in my relationships goes something like this "You make me want to be a better man."  Now, I believe that is a good quality in relationships: being with someone who inspires you and challenges you.  It's fantastic.  But that cannot only come from your partner.  It also has to come from within you, and some of that will likely be rooted in your relationship with God and your journey to be the best person you can be. 

Furthermore, both partners have to feel inspired, not just one.  Yes, I've tried to adapt my words and behaviors so as to not spark someone's abusive anger (and that's another blog...), but no, I've never been in a relationship where the other person inspired and challenged me to be a better person.  I'm the one who is consistently consuming knowledge, exploring resources, and reflecting on my life with a focus on continually improving. 

I have dated a man I met at church, and I've dated a man who invited me to church.  I've dated men who "used to" attend church and then started again when they began to date me.  I've dated men who never prayed at the table and men who've insisted on praying before eating.  Bottom line: attending church  and praying does not make one a God-fearing, God-loving person.  There is a huge difference in believing in God and craving to grow closer to Him while trying to walk in His ways on a daily basis.  I am SO far from proficient at this, make no mistake.  But it is consistently in my thoughts and efforts. 

If I ever decide to take another chance on love, it's clear to me that I need to be sure I'm investing in someone who possesses these two qualies.  And honestly, in my opinion, anyone who is invested in a relationship with God will naturally care about becoming a better person and will inspire those around them. 

the waiting room

A couple days ago, I sat in the waiting room of a breast care center.  There was a man sitting near me, holding an extra coat and a purse.  Soon, he was called back to the patient care area, being told that "she" was almost done.  When he returned to the waiting area, he appeared distressed.  He held his head in his hands, gathering his composure.  I wanted so badly to say something to him, but also did not wish to intrude on his personal business. 

In the midst of the empathy I was feeling, I began to feel fear and self-pity.  I was imagining myself in her shoes.  Except in my scenario, there is no life partner waiting in the waiting room.  I found myself really feeling a sense of....not panic, but sadness and anxiety. 

I've felt this way often in my life as a single parent.  I've fast forwarded to old age or difficult health issues, empty nest, etc., and I've pictured the very real possibility of being alone.  It makes my heart very heavy and sad.  I am blessed to have extremely supportive parents, children, and friends.  Still, just as the presence of a child cannot replace the absence of a parent, family and friends do not replace the presence of a partner - that person you turn to daily with your celebrations and challenges, that person you dream with, that person you build your life with....

It occurred to me, though, that all of us risk facing such valleys alone.  None of us has a guarantee.  Even if you have a partner, one never knows when they might pass away or walk out of your life.  I try more and more to view God as my life partner in some ways.  There is no doubt that He will be there for me daily, through every high and low and ordinary moment along the way.  He will be there when I draw my final breath. I would be lying if I said that erases my feelings of loneliness and fear.  It doesn't.  But it gives me pause for thought and it suggests where my energy is best spent.  He has already sent His son to die for me and my sins.  He's pretty committed to loving me and supporting me and being there for me in every way possible.  And no matter who else might be there, He will be in the waiting room too.

quiet

The quiet is simultaneously soothing and distressing.  It stifles the anger.  It allows for reflection, analysis, and resolution.  Feelings breed with thoughts.  Thoughts wander, darting ahead in time and back into the past.  Very little focus remains on the present.  Hundreds of questions surface, very few of which are answered.  Memories arise, brimming over into tears.  Dreams are in the periphery, broken and desperately trying to quickly reassemble into new dreams.  The sound of the breeze through the crisp fall leaves unknowingly prompts a deep breath.  Frustration is exhaled.  Much is considered, but little is resolved.  The pain lingers.  The pain permeates.  Hope smolders. 

Letting Go(d)

One of the hardest things for me is to really, truly let go and give God control in my life. 

First of all, I'm a bit of a control freak.  I'm good at doing things properly, thoroughly, and in a timely manner, and sometimes it just seems easier to do it myself than to wonder and worry if someone else will do it right (or do it to my standards).  I know.  I make it harder than it needs to be.

Second, I associate loss of control with vulnerability and with taking advantage.  I know, cognitively, that God has my best interests at heart and loves me and promises to protect me, but I'm telling you it is very hard for me.  I really struggle to suspend the negative associations I have about giving humans control in my life. 

Third, what does it really mean to give God control?  What if I don't see or hear him directing my days, my words, and my choices?  What then?  Most of us don't encounter burning bushes or angelic messengers to relay God's will for our lives... 

In recent days, I've been forced to deal with something extremely shocking and painful.  I found myself pretty close to rock bottom, not able to cope adequately or make sense of things or adapt to the blow that was delivered to my little world.  People have prayed for me.  I've prayed.  I've asked for lots of things, including comfort, direction, peace, and the ability to cope and move forward.  As I've focused more and more on how to actually give God control of my life, I've imagined myself in a corn maze, much like the one I recently visited.  I imagine coming to each intersection, not having any clue as to which way to go.  I imagine NOT feeling anxious or scared as I get deeper and deeper into the maze and farther from the entrance or exit.  It isn't easy.  It isn't easy at all, at least not for me.  But I'm trying.  God, I'm trying.  Because when I insist on running my own life, it seems I don't always get the best results.  I don't choose the best direction.  I ignore the warning signs.  I wind up at a dead end with no idea how to get back to a safe place.  Show me the right path.  Open my eyes and ears to hear your gentle calling. Keep me safe.  Help me to trust.  It's so hard God.  It's so hard.

The Sting of Betrayal

It's called the sting of betrayal because it literally burns, it causes you to pull back sharply as you inhale a short, rapid, but strong breath of air - as if your brain knows you'll need a bit more oxygen to process the news.  Moments and hours go by, and at times you can almost distract yourself enough to mute the pain, but ah, there it is, still throbbing, still reminding you of that moment of contact that is seared into you.  You can treat it and be somewhat successful in soothing the pain, but once your source of comfort is removed, it returns as strong as before, reminding you that nothing has really been healed.  You lie awake in bed, desperately craving the sleep your body and mind need, but the throb keeps you awake.  Scenes, words, and images, flash behind even closed eyes as you replay the shock of it over and over again, each time foolishly hoping there is a different ending.  You marvel at your own stupidity, for buying into the game, for believing the lies, for dragging innocent bystanders into harm's way.  You recall the most inane moments, now with a glaze of distrust and paranoia.  And still it throbs.  Still it burns.  Still it stings.  Yes, this is real.  Nightmares and fears don't hurt like this.

A Paradigm Shift on Failed Relationships

Today I had a paradigm shift.  Quite often, I find myself thinking or saying that I'm a failure when it comes to romantic relationships.  Today a wise mentor of mine challenged me, asking me why I would say that.  I said, "Well, every relationship I've ever been in has ended.  Every relationship has failed."    She asked me why they failed, and I started to give reasons for break-ups.  She interrupted me and said, "So breaking up equals failure?"

 

Bam WHAT?!?!

 

I blushed and gave a sheepish grin, already realizing the folly of my logic.  I know plenty of people who are in relationships and miserable.  That is not success, at least not to me.  Realizing you are with the wrong person and acting on it IS success.  Refusing to settle for less than you deserve IS success.  Staying single rather than entering a relationship for the wrong reasons IS success.  Taking time to heal and find yourself IS success.  Taking a chance on love IS success. 

Perhaps I'm not where I imagined I'd be at this stage of my life in terms of romance.  But why on earth would I presume to just happen to find the right person for me because I've reached a certain age or life stage?  I have no idea.  But now I'm free from that false, self-deprecating label as I continue to embrace opportunities to learn and grow, landing precisely where God intended me to land at precisely the moment He intended me to land there. 

 

Just a Motorcycle Ride

He wasn't exactly a stranger to me - more than likely we'd met each other nearly 20 years ago.  We shared a mutual friend who my then fiancé (now ex-husband) had employed as a bartender at his restaurant.  That mutual friend took his own life in 2011, and in 2012 while many of us were still posting tributes and notes on his Facebook wall, I posted something that caught his attention and he friended me on Facebook.  In 2013, knowing his love for motorcycles, I invited him to my church's annual biker weekend.  He spotted me in the crowd and spoke to me, introducing me to his ex-wife and her fiancé.  Nice.  It's good to know I'm not the only one capable of having a civil relationship with an ex.  I was in a serious relationship at the time.  A couple of weeks later, he offered to take me for a ride on his bike.  I respectfully declined, saying I didn't think my boyfriend would appreciate it.  He would later tell me that my response caught his attention and impressed him because of the way I thought and responded.

 

We shared a couple of brief e-mail exchanges, but that was it.  We both existed on the periphery of one another's worlds, entering the other's thoughts from time to time.

In June of this year, he caught wind of the fact that I was no longer in my relationship.  He asked me again if I'd like to go for a ride on his bike.  He gave me his number, asked me to call, and I refused.  Initially.  The first night we talked, it flowed rather easily.  The next day he drove 90 miles from where he was to give me a ride in a brief window of opportunity I had without my children.  I was excited to ride, but that was the extent of it.  I apologized for possibly being presumptuous, but went on to tell him that I was only interested in hanging out and to not start calling me or asking to spend time together.  I was very honest about the state of my heart.  My relationship had ended very badly with an enormous amount of hurt, tension, and stress.  I was still healing and needed time before I could even consider dating, let alone being in a relationship.  I was also really enjoying my freedom, even if I chose to use it to simply be at home, with my kids, or with close friends.  He agreed, having recently been through some drama of his own. 

 

On that first ride, I fought the overwhelming urge to allow myself to just lean into him.  We spent hours together that day and in the next few days to come.  All of our time was spent in conversation.  It came so easily and we each had so much to say and so much to hear.  We'd try to watch a movie, and couldn't bear to shut up long enough to focus on a script or a plot.  I made a half-hearted attempt to keep him at arm's length - not that he was being pushy at all.  But I was wise enough to know not to completely shut him out and miss the possibility of something beautiful blossoming between us.  It already was.

 

Two months later, he feels like home to me.  He has been more engaged with my kids than any of my 3 significant post-divorce relationships ever were, even over the course of a year or more.  My diva Chihuahua that refuses to go to anyone but me?  She jumps into his lap when he comes over.  She lets him flip her on her back and rub her tummy.  It's mind-blowing.  And noteworthy.

 

Sometimes, our plans look good on paper, but don't jive with our hearts and souls.  Sometimes you have to call an audible and change the game plan you previously formulated.  You just go with it, all too aware that it may backfire, but equally aware it might just turn out to be what you were looking for - and hiding from - all along. 

 

 

My Wish For You

My wish for you is simple - that you would see yourself as I see you.  You, in all your splendor and beauty and wonder.  You have captured me since the moment I met you 15 years ago.  You never cease to amaze me with your intellect, wit, beauty, purity, kindness, compassion, creativity, and perceptiveness.  Your friendship is one of the greatest treasures God has ever given me, and I am unworthy.

 

I hate that you have been dealt this hand.  To know the depths of your struggle is to practically feel it myself.  If I could, I would erase all of your fears and replace them with nothing but hope and peace.  I would heal your body and restore your mind and your faith.  But I am a mere mortal, incapable of Godly acts.  What I can do and will do - fiercely - is love, support, and encourage you with every opportunity I'm given. 

 

When you gonna make up your mind
When you gonna love you as much as I do
When you gonna make up your mind
'Cause things are gonna change so fast

~Tori Amos, "Winter"

Enjoy the Silence

Words are powerful.  Words can comfort, reassure, encourage, advise, and soothe.  Words can hurt, destroy, insult, and confuse.  Words are permanent. Once said, they cannot be deleted or replaced with other words.  Every word has a measure of truth, no matter the circumstance, context, or subsequent words. 

 

I treasured the words you spoke to me.  I believed them.  I believed in them.  I believed what you promised, even when your actions suggested otherwise.  I wanted to believe.  They were beautiful words and beautiful promises.  They made me feel loved, valued, cherished, adored, secure, and happy.  They mirrored the love I felt for you, leading me to believe our feelings for one another were mutual.

 

Those words slowly dwindled.  They illustrated inconsistencies and created doubt.  Then they disappeared altogether as the silence boomed.  They were replaced with ugly, hateful, nasty, evil, hurtful words.  Hearing the voice that I loved utter them...I'm sure my brows were furrowed, my mouth agape as I tried to wake myself from what I hoped was a nightmare.  Hearing those lips curse me, insult me, humiliate me...even in front of my children...I might have preferred that you strike me with your fist.  The damage to my heart seemed just as painful.

 

Ah, but I have a voice too.  And now, sweet silence.  The ticking of the clock.  A beloved dog snoring.  A child's gleeful laughter.  Music.  Birds singing.  Thunder booming.  Rain pattering.  All of it is welcome.  All of it is genuine.  All of it is restorative. 

 

“That's what careless words do. They make people love you a little less.” 

~Arundhati Roy
 

"Words have no power to impress the mind
without the exquisite horror of their reality."

~Edgar Allan Poe

Lyrics Girl

I've always been a lyrics girl.  The first thing I do when I buy a CD is open the liner notes to see if the lyrics are printed, and commence to scanning them.  It's like a rich chocolate dessert, I love lyrics and they make or break the song for me.  The instrumentation, as much as I love music, is often secondary in my eyes.

 

Lately, two songs have crossed my path that really resonate with me, and I'm not sure I can put it much better than they can, so I'm simply posting an excerpt of the lyrics and calling it a day.  

 

Another empty promise, good intentions from the start,
You failed to mention, our love would be this hard.
I'm tired of talkin', don't have nothing left to say,
Maybe sometime we'll sift through the ashes one day.

 

I can't lean on you, cause I'll fall right over,
Can't count on you, it doesn't add up.
I see we're through and the truth is pretty sober,
This is going nowhere, enough is enough.

 

The hardest part, in my choice to leave,
Was not quite knowin' what I achieved.
But now I know, I can be stronger on my own,
That's what sleepless nights and only God have shown.

 

I can't lean on you, cause I'll fall right over,
Can't count on you, it doesn't add up.
I see we're through and the truth is pretty sober,
This is going nowhere, enough is enough.

 

I made up my mind I won't have a change of heart
I've removed myself from every single part of you.

 

Eli Young Band "Enough is Enough." 

 

 

 

If you don't treat me better
 Baby, I'll just run away.
Baby, I don't know what drives you
To play these silly games...

C'mon baby I'm much stronger than you know
Sometimes  I'm not afraid to let it show

 

When will you wake up?
I want you more than the stars and the sun
But I can take only so much
Cool on your island
It's so cool on your island

 

I gotta brand new dress made
Could it make you wanna try?
I guess I didn't want to notice
The stars gone from your eyes...

C'mon baby  I'm much stronger than you know
Sometimes  I'm not afraid to let it show

 

When will you wake up?
I want you more than the stars and the sun
But I can take only so much
Cool on your island
It's so cool on your island

 

If you don't treat me better
Baby, I'll just run away
If you don't treat me better
Baby, I'll just run

Tori Amos "Cool on Your Island"

 

Eyes Wide Open

Recently, I took a road trip.  By all appearances, it was just a get away, a chance to visit family without hauling the kids along.  And indeed I did get to spend quality time with several members of my family whom I love and adore and live way too far away from.  But there was more to it than that.  Looking back, I guess it was no accident that a certain date "randomly" popped into my head so many months ago.  I identified that date as a time to take inventory of my life and reevaluate certain things.  For 500 miles I thought and talked out loud and to God.  I sang songs ranging the gamut of emotion.  I took in the scenery.  I talked on the phone.  And for 500 miles on the way back home, I listened. 

 

God has never spoken to me in clear words or phrases.  But if I silence myself and open my mind and my heart, I can feel His nudgings, suggestions, and warnings.  I could hear him on my way back home. Still, I wasn't prepared to immediately act on what I heard.  But I set some things in motion almost as a test - to see what the response would be.  And the silence was deafening. 

 

Some decisions in life are extremely difficult.  Doing the right thing does not often equate with doing the easy thing.  Personally, I take a lot of time to make big decisions.  I marinate on it, roll my thoughts around in my head and ping pong them back and forth, making sure that another angle doesn't appear that I haven't previously considered.  But all the evidence I observed in the days and weeks that followed only amplified what I had heard on that road trip when I decided to just....listen.

 

Personal decision making can be clouded by many things.  I have experienced this time and again in my life.  Maybe it has to do with turning 40 this year.  Maybe I'm seeing life through the lens of age and choosing to trim the proverbial fat from my life.  Maybe it's that my faith has strengthened and grown in my spiritual walk.  Maybe it's the overwhelming evidence that can no longer be ignored.  Whatever it is, I'm blessed in that my difficult decision was made crystal clear to me through all these avenues.  Perhaps that's made it easier to follow through and make peace with it.  Perhaps it's the repeated and frequent reminders and evidence that my choice was the best choice.

 

I find myself starting a new chapter, turning the page.  It's scary in so many ways, but exhilarating in other ways.  It doesn't take much effort to see how very many quality people love me and care about me and will support me no matter what.  And most of all, I can feel God's love wrapped around me, comforting me, supporting me, challenging me, and spurring me on to better, brighter days ahead.  My eyes are wide open. My heart is certain.  My head is clear.

Dumbo/Dayquil

One of the high points of a weekend spent mostly in bed feeling miserable was catching most of the movie "Dumbo" on TV.  I love Disney movies and I'm a sucker for animals with unusual physical traits that initially attract ridicule and later attract admiration (Rudolph, Nestor the Long-eared Christmas Donkey, etc.). 

For some reason though - maybe it was the Dayquil or the antibiotics or my serious sleep deficiency - I was quite struck at how the very thing that brought him so much pain and suffering turned out to be the key to not only his fame, but his unique talent being discovered. 

 

How true this is for many of us...for me, the first two things that come to mind are my naturally curly hair and my intelligence.  I was made fun of an awful lot for being a "nerd," spelling bee champion, and a straight-A student.  Popular girls, cute boys....they'd ask to copy my answers or cheat off of me.  It hurt that they had no need for me outside of the classroom.  My hair was originally blond and straight as a stick, but as I grew up it became browner, wavy, and then curly.  Oh my gosh, the name-calling I endured: Medusa, Chewbacca, Cousin It......

 

Now my intelligence and my hair get regular compliments.  I graduated summa cum laude from a fine undergraduate university and achieved my master's degree with high honors.  I was able to get good jobs and grow professionally, progressing from one position to another so that I might always be intellectually stimulated and challenged, just as I like it.  Strangers will stop me and say they like my hair and my initial internal response is always skipping a beat, waiting for them to say "just kidding" like that jerk jock in high school said after complimenting my hair one day.  Then I realize they have no ulterior motive for saying it, so they must mean it, and I feel flattered.

 

These are silly examples, but I just can't stop thinking that some of my most difficult obstacles and greatest stressors might just hold the key to the fulfillment of my dreams or my destiny somewhere down the road.  My God has a plan and a promise for me.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties Pretty Much Sucked

For the few of you who have been following this series, I'm throwing in the towel prematurely.  Life has dropped a series of setbacks and stressors in my path in recent weeks and relatively speaking, a self-retrospective seemed a little frivolous and selfish.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 19 - Worry

Scripture tells us again and again not to waste our time worrying.  I think this is one of the hardest things for me.  I am a worrier by nature.  I assume responsibility for far more than is actually mine.  My empathy is boundless and I spend considerable time worrying about others and their struggles. 

I worry about my health, my children's health, the way others treat my kids when I am not around, successful education for my children, illnesses of friends, friends mourning the death of a loved one, friends with miserable jobs or no job at all, friends in miserable marriages, friends experiencing infertility, friends experiencing new parenthood.  Pretty much any angle of any situation, I can find something to worry about.

I know it is taking a toll on my health and that my body is holding on to stress in bad ways.  I also know the secret to not worrying is to have stronger faith in God and trust in him completely.  It makes me sad that I cannot seem to get there.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 18 - Our Children are Mirrors

Lately, when my children get on my nerves, I recognize that some of their most annoying traits have actually been inherited from...yep, me.  It's really a deep experience when you observe this and recognize the connection.  Even as I try to coach them out of those behaviors, I am listening to what I'm saying and trying to apply it to my own behaviors as well.

To be fair to myself, some of those traits are useful and annoying at the same time.  Happily, some of their best traits are mine too.

But best of all are the traits they have that seem to have sprung up independently of both their father and I.  They are unique beings with unique personalities and appearances.  And they are a reflection of me even as they are a new creation.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 17 - Transparency

I will be the first to admit that I can be a horrible judge of character.  On the one hand, there are people I meet whom I immediately get a bad, creepy, or suspicious vibe.  I've learned not to ignore that.  But there are others whose charm or flattery or false self-presentation completely fools me.  Even when I begin to uncover lies and discrepancies in their stories, I wind up doubting myself.  There are people who, if I had not been informed of who they are and what they've done, I would have easily been hoaxed into believing they were a victim, or a good person with good intentions, when the reverse was true.

 

Some of the people with whom I've been most open and intimate (and that's a lot, because I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve) have shocked me when they have committed transgressions against me.  Often, in talking to other about it, I find out that other are not so surprised or even saw it coming. 

 

There's not much comfort to be found here.  I can be more skeptical about people and refuse to trust them, or I can give the benefit of the doubt.  Yes, there is a gray area in between, but that's where it gets tricky.  People do not come with warning signs.  I have learned to stop ignoring red flags and things that seem too far-fetched or too good to be true.  But sometimes red flags are only half the story.  And sometimes good things are true.

 

No tidy ending here, folks.  Just a Pisces being pensive.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 16 - Forgiveness

At a bible study tonight, we were learning about how God truly dismisses, does not count, and covers up our sins for which we repent.  This is such a hard thing for me to comprehend, because I am human.  I cannot so easily dismiss, forget, or not keep track of my own sins and the sins of others.

 

I hear myself say to my children - when they apologize for something they've done many times before - "if you were really sorry, you wouldn't keep doing the same thing."  But God doesn't say that to me when I repeat my mistakes and my sins. 

 

It's so hard to be Godly, because we're humans.  He knew we would be sinners, and that's why he made the ultimate sacrifice for us - the crucifixion of his only son - so that we could be forgiven and blessed with eternal life.

 

We talked about how guilt and doubt are the devil's strongholds into our souls.  We do so much of his work to ourselves when we feel guilt and doubt.  We make it easy for him to enter into our heads and our hearts and draw us further away from God.

 

Recently, I stood before my boss in tears, apologizing for all the work I've been missing due to medical and personal issues.  She told me I was putting more pressure on myself than she was, and that I could let go of all my stress and guilt.  That was a Christ-like attitude.  And it's something I need to work on.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 15 - Selfish to Selfless

When my thirties began, my marriage was ending, my life dreams were being adjusted, and I was a mother of two young children feeling very alone and very helpless and hopeless.  Yet I was determined to make it.  Sometimes it was one day at a time, and that felt like a small victory.  But as I began to get the hang of it, I was building a wall around myself.  Convinced that most folks could not be trusted and had bad intentions, I assume a rather chilly front, making it a challenge for others to get close to me.  I liked to play hard ass and pretend that I didn't need anyone, other than my very closest friends and my parents, to whom I would sob and vent and confess all of my fears and insecurities.

 

Along the way, I realized that this strategy mostly backfired.  I pushed all but the most persistent (and not in a good way) people away from me. 

 

Now as I stand at the brink of 40, I can see so many ways this has changed.  I am still hesitant to trust, but on the other hand, I do find myself being surprised at what a bad judge of character I've been towards some people.  And not in a good way!  Sometimes I trust and believe a person only to discover they were posing or had ulterior motives with my best interests not in mind.

 

I have to really discipline myself to do things just for me, rather than for my kids, my friends, and family (and sometimes even strangers).  I have found great happiness and joy in doing unexpected and kind things for others.  I have let someone into my life who has turned out to be that missing piece of the puzzle for whom I had always searched.  The more I open myself to him, the more our love deepens and broadens.  More than that, I have felt compelled to help those who are far from being my responsibility.  I just think this means I am growing up.  I credit a lot of this to the strengthening of my spirituality and relationship with God.  He made it very clear that we are not just to focus on ourselves, but to serve others with a joyful heart.  I'm finally getting it.  I've got a long way to go still, but I'm getting it. 

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 14 - Friends

I find myself reflecting on the different types of friends in my life as I approach 40.  Being the Type A personality that I am, I find it easiest to categorize them.  So here we go:

Long-Timers

These are the friends I grew up with.  For the most part, we aren't in close contact.  We use social media to keep apprised of one another's lives, have chance encounters, and occasionally see each other at reunions, weddings, and funerals.  But even though we aren't close anymore, I feel that I still know them because we knew each other in our coming of age years.  I feel that I could confide in them or even ask for help if I needed it.

 

Grown-up Friends

These are folks I've met in my 20s and 30s, even as I was continuing to evolve into the person I'm meant to become.  I've connected with them on things that intrigue, interest, or impact me.  They are special to me because our relationships blossomed not based on who I was when I was younger or who my family is, or where I went to school or church, but they just...happened.

 

New Old Friends

This is essentially a Facebook phenomenon.  People from high school I might not have known well at all, but one we connected in the here and now, I found little treasures everywhere amongst some of them.

 

Stranger Friends

These are mostly people from church, and sometimes professional acquaintances.  We have no foundation really, but for whatever reason, they show their care and concern for me in amazing ways.

 

I'm so grateful for every type of friend, even the ones I am no longer close with.  Each person has come into my life for a reason and has contributed something positive, even if they ultimately hurt me or disappointed me or vice versa.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 13 - My Roots are Showing

I know I didn't necessarily like it at the time, but I am so grateful for the qualities and behaviors my parents instilled in me at an early age.  I keep this in mind when I wonder if my kids understand or appreciate all that I do for them, especially as a single mom.  I know that the day will come when they will finally see.

 

We always went to church, growing up.  With the friends I made in my youth group, I believe I stayed out of a lot of trouble than I might have gotten into otherwise.  My parents kept close tabs on where I was going, with whom, and for how long.  There were no cell phones in those days.  I felt restricted, but am grateful they cared enough to not allow me to get into situations that lacked adult supervision and boundaries. 

 

Family was important.  We did not take vacations (I can think of two, and at least one was associated with a business trip of my Dad's).  Instead, we spent two weeks a year (one in summer and one at Christmas) visiting my extended family who live 500 miles away.  I saw my parents care for the aging and ailing parents, making long distance phone calls frequently, and being as supportive as possible when living so far away.

 

My parents always encouraged me and believed in me.  I am a perfectionist, and I'm not sure how much of that is who I am and how much of that is what they instilled in me, but I would up doing well in high school, graduating summa cum laude from undergrad, and attending graduate school on a full ride scholarship.  I have been blessed with the skills and responsibilities to hold secure, rewarding jobs and develop professionally and become a leader. 

 

In 39 years I have never seen/heard my parents raise their voices to one another.  To us, yes. :)  Of course I've seen them grumpy and even a little snippy with each other, but that is where it ends, at least when we were within earshot.

 

My point is this - the way that we parent lays the foundation for members of the next generation.  Many people have told me they wished they had a mom or dad like mine.  I understand the intensity of a compliment like that.  I feel extremely blessed that my parents gave me such strong roots that enabled me to become a well-rounded, well-functioning adult and parent. 

 

Train up a child in the way he should go,
Even when he is old he will not depart from it.

Proverbs 22:6

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 12: The music of silence

One thing I have really come to appreciate in my thirties is the beautiful sound of silence.  In a life filled with young, energetic children, dogs, tech devices, TVs, etc., it is rare to hear silence.  Moments of silence I've come to really treasure include: massages, being in the shower, the first moments of the morning as I pray, time in the car, and being home alone.

I love people and conversation and I love music, and I sleep every night to the sounds of either ocean waves, rain or crickets.  But I love silence.  I believe it helps me to grow and strengthen my own voice.

 

“We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness.

God is the friend of silence.

See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence;

see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence...

We need silence to be able to touch souls.”

~Mother Teresa

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 11 - Dumbing Down

In my mid-thirties, I began to experience a scary pattern of fainting or coming close to fainting.  I could not seem to establish any pattern or precursors to the fainting.  Other times, I just was so severely tired I literally had to be picked up from work and taken home to sleep.  Sounds silly? 

 

I was debating (oops - that's a funny Freudian slip if you knew him) - I mean dating - a guy with diabetes.  One day he commented that I was acting as if I had low blood sugar: sort of getting spacy, shaky, tired, feeling faint, and generally "dumbing down" as I like to call it.  I followed up on that and learned that I have reactive hypoglycemia.  This means that when I eat, my body produces too much insulin, which in turn, lowers my blood sugar. 

 

Happily, the treatment is essentially diet planning and control.  Avoid simple sugars, and have protein and complex carbs every few hours. It is like clock work now. I don't even have to look at the clock and I can tell you it's been 2 - 3 hours since I last ate, based on the low blood sugar symptoms I am experiencing.  I carry glucose tablets in the car and in my purse at all times.

 

There have been times my children have found me slumped in a corner (I tend to gravitate toward quiet, dark places when I am crashing for some reason), and they know to get the glucose and force it in my mouth until it dissolves or they move my jaw to get me to chew it.  In a matter of a couple minutes I am coming around again.  Scary if you haven't been around it, but really just an adjustment in my life.

 

The joke is that when I am acting dumb, it means my sugar is low.  Nice to have an excuse? :)

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 10 - Painkillers

When I look back on my thirties, I see the ways I have dealt with pain and how it has changed with maturity and experience.  I remember when I first separated from my husband, everyone was shocked.  The reason is that I had not aired any of my dirty laundry.  Someone once told me that when you speak poorly of your spouse, you are speaking poorly of yourself because you chose to marry them.

 

Then, once I was divorced and single, I changed the way I dealt with hurt and pain.  You see, I am a talker and it is cathartic for me to talk about my feelings and problems, just to get it out of me.  The problem was that I began to talk too much to too many people, especially about pain others had caused me.  While I never lied about what others had done, and always made sure to confess to my part in the conflict, I was obviously talking to those who were biased toward me and were going to take my side.  Subconsciously,  I think I was just looking for validation, wanting to hear others say "it's not you" and so forth.  But it wasn't enough to hear it from one person.  I had to repeat it to others too.

 

I feel that this behavior was problematic, because it wasn't the purest of intentions.  I wanted that validation and assurance.  I think I already had it though, I just didn't trust my own feelings and assessments.

 

Anyways, I go about it a bit differently now.  I still talk to a few close friends/family about my problems.  I don't believe it is healthy to keep it all inside.  But I don't feel compelled to share every last detail either.  Another big difference is that I talk to God a whole lot more than I ever used to.  He knows all the details and facts.  He loves me.  He loves the other person/people involved.  I've learned to view him as a friend, a confidant, and a Father whose lap I can metaphorically crawl into when I am hurting.  It works so much better than running my mouth to anyone who will listen.

 

"Come to Jesus" by Mindy Smith

"Oh, my baby, when you're prayin'
Leave your burden by my door
You have Jesus standing by your bedside
To keep you calm, keep you safe,
Away from harm"

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 9 - Pets

I lost my beloved Chihuahua, Macho, a few weeks after my dissolution was finalized.  I had not yet become accustomed to being alone in the house when the kids were spending time with their dad per our custody arrangement.  It may sound crazy, but when the kids were gone, I felt more afraid, as if no one would know for several hours if something bad happened to me.  I found myself talking to my dog more and more. Not conversations, mind you, but as I'd pass through the room he was in I would say "Hi buddy" or pet him.

 

When he died, it hit me extremely hard.  Not only had I loved him for 15 years, but in the weeks leading up to his death, he had become my security blanket.  He slept with me.  He greeted me at the door.  That first night I came home from work and he wasn't there, I lost it.  The next morning, when I had to skip the first part of my routine, which was letting him outside, I cried and cried. 

 

Unfortunately, I tried to rebound a little too quickly (see blog 8!) by getting a dog within a few weeks.  She was a bad match for our family and I realized it quickly and found a better home for her.  It would be a couple years before I felt ready to commit to a puppy again.  I was dating a controlling and selfish man at the time, and I'd made arrangements to purchase from the breeder before we'd begun dating.  When the pups were weaned and I was ready to go choose my new pet, he warned me to think carefully, because a new puppy would take a lot of time and energy....away from him.  Yes, he really said that.  I looked at him and said, "Here's the way I see it.  She's a sure thing.  She'll be with me 10 - 15 years.  You?  You could be gone in a few days or weeks.  I'm getting the dog."

 

Seven years later, she is a cherished companion of mine, as is my newer, younger rescue dog.  For me, dogs serve as a beautiful reminder of the way beings can communicate and feel things for one another without being of the same species or speaking the same language.  I love my dogs.  They've been a huge part of my thirties and I suspect that will continue for my next 40 years.

 

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 8 - Resist the Rebound

We all know it's a bad idea to rebound from one relationship to another too quickly.  But many of us believe our situation is different and that we know better.  I have rarely, if ever, found that to be true.

 

During my divorce, a counselor or a book I read stated that, for every 4 years in a relationship, you need 1 year to recover before you are able to consider engaging in a new and healthy relationship.  When I heard that, I was horrified.  That meant I would have to wait about 2.5 years!!  That seemed ridiculous.  So, deciding I was a better adjusted adult than most, I forged ahead with dating a few months after my divorce was final.  

 

I use the term dating because the term relationship would not be accurate.  Essentially, I was fishing.  I tried to convince myself I was ready to give to others and to love others, but honestly, what I needed was to be loved and to be given to.  I was wounded, hurting, lost, and starting most parts of my life over again.  I was in no position to give to others.  I was struggling to give my children what they needed and deserved, as well as my friends, family, and even myself.

 

Would you believe that it took about 2.5 years for me to begin my first real relationship?  That relationship was horribly flawed, and was based on me finally giving in to someone who pursued me relentlessly.  It made me feel wanted - something I had not felt in a long time.  What I didn't realize is I was expecting him to make me happy....an unfair expectation for anyone.

 

At one point, I met and fell in love with the man I still believe is the love of my life.  Our breakup was extremely difficult for me, and I couldn't begin to figure out how to heal and move on emotionally.  So I got involved way too soon with someone else, ignoring all sorts of red flags and inconsistencies.   I was wearing blinders because deep down I wanted him to love me and commit to me the way I wanted the love of my life to love and commit to me.  Disastrous. 

 

Finally, after another devastating breakup, I took a year and half entirely to myself.  Not one date.  I refused every advance made toward me.  I became comfortable being alone and spending time with friends and family exclusively.  I went to movies alone.  I went out to eat alone.  I went to a football game alone with 100,000+ people in the stands.  And I finally began to truly understand myself and take care of myself.  I even began to love myself.

 

Only after that period of solitude and reflection was I able to enter a relationship as a whole person who was truly able to give as well as receive.  By God's grace, that person was the love of my life (yes, the same one I'd been with previously).  But this time everything was different, better...not perfect....but more mature, fair, and a good balance of giving and receiving. 

 

The rumors are true, and they do apply to you.  If you are still hurting over your last love, you are cheating the person with whom you begin a relationship.  There's no way around that fact.  And the unspoken and perhaps subconscious expectations you have of them are impossible to meet.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 7 - Safe Harbor

Unfortunately, life is full of drama and conflict quite frequently.  I decided several years ago that my home needed to be a safe harbor as much as possible from these toxic, negative things.  Obviously, voices get raised, conflicts arise between the children, the children & I, or myself and another adult.  But home has become a place I crave to be when I am feeling stressed, sick, or sad.

 

Once I grew out of the idea that I needed to be out and about as much as possible with a loaded calendar, I came to grow very fond of my couch, cuddle time, and peace and quiet.  I protect my home as much as possible from the things we encounter daily in life that bring us stress and discomfort.  It is important and effective in creating boundaries. 

 

Also, other than brief venting about the events of our days, we make it a point not to bring those stresses home with us and let them devour our home life.  Might not seem like a big deal, but when I look back on the last decade, this is a great change I have reinforced and encouraged in my life.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 6 - Taking Care of Me

One of the keys to my growth and happiness in the past decade is the development of ability to take care of myself.  I'm really not talking about "handling my business" independently.  I'm talking about recognizing what my mind and my body need, and seeing it to it that I give them what they need. 

When I need to de-program a bit, I give myself permission to read for awhile or to watch something entertaining on TV.  When I feel lonely, I make sure to find a trusted, supportive friend to talk to - rather than just hoping someone might call me at just the right time.  When I feel tired, I take naps instead of pushing through it.  When my head hurts, I make things quieter and soothing.  I just pay attention to my needs more than I ever used to (or had to) before.  I operate much better and more efficiently when I'm not depriving myself of reasonable remedies for my malaise.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 5 - Pursuing Passion

Since my teens and twenties, certain passions have been awakened in me.  When you have a passion for something, you don't have to talk yourself into it and you never feel obligated to it.  You want to follow your passions. 

 

In my thirties, I have followed several passions and become involved in various initiatives.  Not all of them were a good fit for me, for one reason or another.  Sometimes becoming involved in one area helped me to see a different area that was a better fit for me.

 

At church, I've been involved in several bible studies, small groups for single mothers, choir, writing devotionals, writing curriculum for small groups, and serving at a women's shelter.  I've participated in coat drives, prepared meals for recovering addicts and people dealing with setbacks in life, and prepared shoeboxes full of Christmas gifts for needy children.

 

In the schools, I've tutored kindergarteners and first graders for whom English was a second language.  I've prepared meals for teachers on conference nights and created tokens of appreciation for teachers.  I've coordinated auction baskets and coordinated room parents.

 

I've volunteered for a non-profit organization that pursued legislative changes for the gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender communities.  I've contributed to and/or participated in many community causes for cancer research, heart research, AIDS research, veterans' services, and many others.

 

Internally, I've encouraged myself to pursue passions right here at home, such as gardening, reading, and writing.  I try to read 2 books a month at least, and I write two blogs when time permits and inspiration strikes.  Typically, I find it easier to write about life's valleys than life's peaks.  I've tried to develop songwriting skills.  I need to carve out more time to sit down and play through my piano, as it is one of my greatest cathartic acts.

 

All of these things have been outlets for me - ways to express my compassion and apply my skills in efforts, large and small, to change lives.  But as much as certain things may or may not help others, they all help me to pursue my passions.  And I have found that doing that is one of the keys to being happy with myself.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 4 - Toddler to Teen

In my thirties, my oldest child went from age 3 to 13.  Exhale.... 

 

So much of parenting is winging it, isn't it?  You choose your battles, determine your boundaries, set expectations, and then you really take it as it comes.  Hopefully you have a strong sense of values, a good support network, and a strong relationship with God to help guide your parenting.  There's no right or wrong answer for so many of the dilemmas, conflicts, and forks in the road.

 

In some ways, the issues don't change.  At three, there are hurt feelings by the way their friends and classmates treat them.  Same at thirteen.  At three, they seek the comfort of their mother when they are sick, sad, or hurting.  Same at thirteen. 

One of the hardest parts of parenting, for me, is explaining the evil in the world.  I try to tell her enough to make her vigilant and cautious, but not so much that she is terrified to live her life and be a kid.  She was 8 months old when 9/11 happened, but eventually the time came when I had to explain that to her (as best I could).  Hurricane Katrina, the earthquake in Haiti, tsunamis, and school killings have all impacted her greatly.  Still she asks me how the survivors of these events are doing. 

She can hardly remember when her father and I were together (she was 4 when I dissolution was finalized), which is, in some ways, a blessing.  She has watched me date, break up, suffer a broken heart, and stand up for myself with men.  I hope that, even though I haven't been able to model a marriage for her, that my experiences have taught her something helpful about relationships, conflict, and healing.

 

In short, we've both grown up a lot.  She has taught me and I have taught her.  I have worked hard to instill important values in her and to demonstrate responsibility and compassion.  I love to hate the parts of me I see in her, and I love to see the new directions her life is going where mine has never gone.  In the last decade, I've gone from adoring who she was when she was born...to who she was born to become.

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 3 - The Traveler

The decade of my thirties was the decade of travel.  The primary reason is that my employer began offering an incentive trip tied to our annual revenue goals.  Through their generosity and our team’s hard work, I have been taken to Cancun, Jamaica, Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Orlando (okay it was the year of the recession), and a dude ranch in Colorado – all expenses paid.  I never would have had the opportunity to travel to these places otherwise. 

 

I saw and experienced some really amazing things on those trips, including:

 

·         Riding a horse through the jungle and into the ocean in Cancun

·         Eating on a rooftop Mexican restaurant, complete with a mariachi band and a view of Cozumel across the water from Playa del Carmen

·         The most beautiful, warm people filled with hospitality and kindness in Jamaica

·         Walking up the waterfalls in Ocho Rios, Jamaica

·         Two ridiculously fun nights at discotheques in Jamaica and the Dominican Republic

·         A private island in Puerto Rico

·         The bioluminescent bay in Puerto Rico

·         Breathtaking scenery, trap shooting, and archery in Granby, Colorado at the dude ranch

In my thirties, I also traveled to Canada, to the Bahamas (won a free trip) with my roommate from OSU, to San Diego by myself to see two friends from grad school (amazing trip with a spa offering mud baths, a gay country line dancing bar, and the best massage ever from my grad school roommate who opened her own massage business), and to Austin with a friend for a week of fantastic “eats and beats.”

Even after all of this, my three favorite vacation destinations are: South Central Virginia, East Coast beaches (Virginia and Myrtle), and Gatlinburg, TN. 

 

Virginia is where you will find all but my immediate family.  As a kid, twice a year we would go there for our vacations.  The importance of family was instilled in me at an early age.  Sometimes when we’d go for a week in the summer, my parents would leave my brother and I behind  in VA, and we were over the moon to spend a week with our grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles.  It’s a completely different world from the large Midwestern city where I reside, but it feels like home to me.  The scenery is beautiful, the people are colorful and hospitable, and even the smell is soothing to me.  Virginia, to me, is dirt roads, lots of tiny churches with their own cemeteries, large family gatherings, laughter, the best food in the world, hearing stories about days gone by, or just sitting on MeMa’s front porch listening to the whippoorwills, raising my head at the rare sound of a car passing down on the road below the hill on which she lives.  Still I make the 1,000 mile roundtrip drive at least once a year – sometimes by myself.

 

Gatlinburg was where my ex-husband and I spent half of our honeymoon (the other half in Nashville), and we returned every fall for our anniversary, eventually with children - even when our son was a mere 6 weeks old.  I fell in love with those Smoky Mountains in the fall.  It looked like God had taken the most beautiful blanket and draped it over the landscape.  It was peaceful, breathtaking, and it restores my soul to be there.  After my divorce, I still vacationed there alone with the kids or with friends.  The beauty of those Smoky Mountains is awesome, literally.  It’s been a few years since I’ve visited, but I intend to return this fall if at all possible.

My first trip to the beach was when I was 17, believe it or not.  In Pretty Woman, Edward says, "People's reactions to opera the first time they see it is very dramatic; they either love it or they hate it. If they love it, they will always love it. If they don't, they may learn to appreciate it, but it will never become part of their soul."  That is how the beach is to me.  I will never forget when my eyes first rested on it.  The enormity, the magnificence, the power, the SOUND of it.....it completely captured me.  There is nowhere on earth I feel the presence of God more strongly than at the beach.  I just can't fathom how you could deny the existence or the power of God once you've stood on a shoreline of an ocean.  As the song sung at my daughter's baptism goes, "I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean." 

Isn't that what travel is all about?

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 2 - Moolah

A few months into my thirties, my (now ex) husband and I separated, and divorced a couple weeks after my 31^st birthday.  Gratefully, there was no additional stress of arguing about the terms of our dissolution.  We agreed on essentially everything.  We treated each other with fairness and respect despite our differences. 

I was only working part-time when we separated.  I know now that God provides for us in ways we don’t always recognize, and this was one of those times.  Very shortly after we separated, my employer extended an offer to me for full-time employment and I eagerly accepted. 

My parents raised me to spend responsibly, to save, and to be fiscally responsible.  I thank God for this on a regular basis.  At the time I was 16 and working my first job, my Dad required me to tithe 10% of my income to our church, save about 40% of my earnings in a savings account, and I could spend the rest.  Of course, this was irritating.  I had name brand jeans to buy, movies to see, and a gas tank to fill!  But they instilled in me financial discipline and responsibility.

In my thirties, when I became a single mother of two, I relied heavily on this foundation.  I became an expert budget creator and implementer.  Even if it meant a regular rotation of grilled cheese, hot dogs, and mac and cheese, we were living within our means.  Mommy wasn’t spending much on herself in the way of new clothes, purses, shoes, pedicures, etc.  Mommy was supporting two children and trying to hold onto the house they’d known all or most of their lives as “home.”   

A significant recession hit during my thirties, and my salary was reduced.  Again, I turned to my budgeting skills to figure out how to make ends meet.  Things that once seemed mandatory or needed were reclassified as luxurious and merely wanted.  This included the Sunday paper, cable TV, name brand products, and the retirement of my much-loved but impractical Mustang. 

There were many acts of financial kindness during the rougher times though.  My parents would often help out in large and small ways, whether it be taking the kids for a haircut and refusing to be reimbursed, or picking up a “pre-Christmas” new coat the kids needed, or inviting us over to dinner.  I had friends that would babysit for free when I had an appointment.  I once received an anonymous $100 Kroger gift card with a note saying the sender admired the grace with which I handled the difficulties n life.  God continued to look out for me, and I continued to do my part in being responsible and strategic with whatever resources I had. 

But the biggest transformation occurred in my late thirties when I finally decided to truly tithe to my church.  I had always given offerings, but honestly it was only amounts that were comfortable for me and did not put me in any hardship.  I felt good about those chincy offerings.  But my pastor helped me to see that tithing is commanded of us, and is actually a joyful, God-honoring behavior that tremendously helps in building faith and trust in God.  Since I began tithing 14 months ago, my life has changed.  Money has literally shown up when it was most needed, and in the most unexpected ways.  It has changed my life and I will never go back to dropping a twenty here and there in the offering plate.  It's something I want and need to do, and it makes me happy.  Is it possible I'm finally growing up?