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? 

Last 30 Days of My Thirties: Blog 1 - Looking Back at 30

A friend of mine recently posted on Facebook that she was about to turn 40 and wanted to know what friends suggested she do in the remaining days of her thirties.  This got me thinking about how I will be turning 40 very soon, and I decided to do a series of blogs for the last 30 days of my thirties. 

 

So I find myself reflecting back to when I turned 30.  My daughter was 3, my son was 6 months old, I was one month into employment with the employer I’m still with, I’d had the house I still live in for 2 years, and I was 5 months away from separating from my (now ex) husband. 

 

Socially, I had almost an entirely different circle of friends than I have now.  There are a few cherished friends with whom I’ve maintained a relationship in the last decade, and I suspect they will be friends for life.  There were other friends from whom I’ve grown apart. 

 

Spiritually, I was at a different church, and my faith was what I would call "treading water." 

 

Professionally, my career path was uncertain.  I’d just left a large, secure employer and taken a chance with a very small (5 employees) family-owned business, reducing my work from full-time to part-time. 

 

 Most of my emotional resources were being invested in my family and my marriage, which was floundering.  The kids were very dependent upon me/us for their physical needs.  We were still adjusting to the addition of a baby in the household.  Frankly, I was still adjusting to thinking of myself as a mother.  I’ve never been the natural mothering type.  When someone walks in the room with a baby, I do not ask to hold it. I only held mine because I figured I had only myself to blame if I dropped them! 

 

 I was feeling grown up in that I’d been married for 6 years, was a mother of 2, and had undergraduate as well as graduate degrees from fine institutions.  But 30 was that “in between” place where, “on paper”, you are certainly an adult, but you are still finding your way in life and hoping someday things will come more naturally or fall into place a little easier.  At least that’s how it felt to me.  I suppose I felt a bit like an imposter in every area of my life.  My marriage wasn’t working, I felt under confident as a mother, and my professional life had just started a new, uncertain chapter. 

 

So I arrived at 30 with very little hoopla, just another birthday, and began to lay the framework for what would be the most tumultuous and life-changing decade of my life to date.  Of course, maybe we all are prone to feel that way about the most recent decade in which we’ve lived.  I’ll let you know when I’m 49.

putting it in reverse

There's a reason you ought not to put your car in reverse while traveling down the road.  You can ask someone more mechanically inclined than I to elaborate, but I'm pretty clear on the fact that it is bad for the car and might be a rather costly mistake.  Instead, you're meant to slow down and come to a stop before shifting into the opposite direction.

 

I'm also aware that life decisions ought to be handled similarly.  But feelings and reactions are often hard to control.  At times, a sharp curve, slippery terrain, or a speed bump will have me foregoing all warnings and thrusting my heart and head into reverse with no regard for the damage I'm bound to do to myself and possibly others.  I suppose this is a learned reflex that I've acquired during my journey in life.  Having been burned, betrayed, tricked, etc. can definitely leave you determined to proceed with caution.  But sometimes I admit that a not-so significant slight can send me reeling, and I will quickly assign meaning to the event or intentions surrounding it and have myself convinced in no time that ill will was intended or that what was recently status quo has now been revoked and everything is up fr grabs...that anything might happen next. 

 

I'm trying to retrain my heart and head to give the benefit of the doubt a bit more, and jump to strong, bad conclusions a bit less.  It's hard.  You know - old dog, new tricks and all that.  It's much easier when driving a car or parenting your children.  I know exactly what to preach, it's the practice that doesn't always come easily. 

 

kindred spirits

Sometimes all I think we really need is to know we're not alone.  Not in the literal sense, mind you.  I've been to a sporting event surrounded my 100,000+ screaming fans, yet I was alone.  I've been in the same room - even the same table - with another person and felt the miles span between us.  I'm talking about a connection between two human souls.  It doesn't come with every interaction.  With some folks, I struggle to think of something to say or to discuss, feeling that each effort falls flat on its face.  But with others.....with others, it comes as natural as rain trickling down the gutter.

 

Isn't it a wonderful feeling when you find common ground with a person and feel that you are truly heard, truly understood, or truly appreciated?  I have come to believe that the wide array of people in my life are all there for various purposes.  Some provide insight, others provide laughter, while others provide challenges.  Likewise, my purpose in their lives varies too.  I know that for some people I'm the one they want to talk to about a certain topic, or for others I am the one to invite to karaoke, and for others I am the person who will laugh at their jokes.

 

It's the beautiful way in which God has created us as unique and special beings, each with a different set of traits, needs, and talents.  To find a kindred spirit is one of the greatest gifts He gave, at least to me.

thoughts on love

I'm no expert on love.  I've been engaged three times, married once, and divorced once.  So my thoughts are a work in progress and I hope you can regard them as such.

 

But I'm reminded again and again how vitally important it is to get your proverbial "shit" together prior to entering a romantic relationship.  I have been the girl who was so hungry for love, she ignored red flags, warning signs, and gut instincts.  I can only speak for myself, but when I embark upon a relationship wanting desperately to be loved, I become a slave to it.  I hang on every word, every hint of affection and affirmation sends me soaring, while every absence of the same sends me reeling.  I become someone who will do anything to earn recognition and praise.  It's ridiculous, and frankly, embarrassing and unattractive.

 

How much better it is when I have come to terms with my solitude, have come to know myself (as I am ever evolving), and have found peace with life in the absence of romance.  It is only at that time that I can actually represent myself genuinely in a relationship, and give for the sake of giving rather than pre-calculating what I might get in return. 

 

As I live and learn about love, I realize that it is a safe place where I can be myself (though not without being challenged in a healthy way), give from the heart, and truly care about another person's well-being in addition to my own.  This is hard!  I've been badly burned before and taken advantage of in life-altering ways.  I suspect there will always be a part of me that has my guard up and is constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.  The real work happens when I push through that and CHOOSE to give myself and my love with the realization that it may or may not be returned.  It is a chance to practice imperfect human love while resting in the unconditional love of God as the ultimate example of how love is supposed to be. 

 

And if you really get it right, God becomes the center of your romantic relationship and you learn to lean on him for support and praise him for blessings as you struggle through life and love, learning as you go. 

Motion Sick/Shotgun

I've always wondered if those of us who are prone to motion sickness are control freaks as well.  I know I am.  Although I don't feel ill in the passenger seat (only in the back seat), I find myself looking both ways at stop signs just to make sure the driver hasn't missed any oncoming traffic.  Likewise, when I do get stuck in the backseat, my best bet at not getting sick is to keep my eyes glued to the road ahead of me. 

 

Consider for a moment that God is the driver in this ride we call life.  We could be enjoying the ride, enjoying the scenery, and relaxing, rather than second-guessing and double checking him at each turn and merging point.  If we could learn to trust and let go, we could enjoy those "passenger seat" moments and not create unnecessary stress for ourselves by attempting to duplicate the efforts of our flawless God.  

 

That being said, we are certainly not given license to recline back, be passive, and hope that God wraps our lives up in beautiful wrapping with a perfect bow on top.  We have responsibility and accountability that comes with the gift of life.  We simply need to remember our place.  Shotgun.