Exposed

Well, I panicked yesterday. I thought I had exposed too much, yet again. It wasn't that I didn't want anyone to read my posts. It was that I didn't want it plastered all over facebook like I was announcing, "Look what I have done! Look what I can do! Everyone pat me on the back." For some reason this time, multiple stories I had written showed up on the news feed of my friends. Basically, it all boiled down to me messing around with technology that I really didn't understand how to use.

When I was alerted to this fact, I thought it was clogging up facebook, people's profiles, etc. I was also told that I should be concerned because it was like my personal diary and personal thoughts. I realized the person telling me this had not read my blog before because it is pretty obvious that my blog is all about the personal and private - from the triumphs to the failures and all in between. I don't really hold much back.

I link my blog to the outside world because I think others might find the subject matter relatable. If I am going through it, then someone else is, too. Sometimes I post because I need comforting or affirmation of my parenting. Writing is the cheapest form of therapy for me. Other times, my life is just so ridiculous, that I think that it needs sharing. I can laugh at it, so can others.

What came out of "my mistake" yesterday was really fantastic. I had three conversations with parents at my kids' school who had been dealing with the same issues in their house. Some had suggestions, some just provided comfort. One was considering an ENT referral, but was now thinking urological. One person provided much comfort about the tests Sadie will undergo, having been there with her daughter. And one offered to have her child, recently solved of the issue, to provide support to Sadie. I received some wonderful encouragement and enlightenment from other parents who also parent children like Sadie. Here are several comments:

"It was exactly what I needed to give me perspective for what has been going on between my daughter and me."

"Your words that Sadie often uses the word "embarrassing" hit home with me in a way that you will never know. My daughter tells me that all the time. It was a light bulb for me. Her idea that she is a tough girl makes it embarrassing that she needs me to help her. I constantly tell her that if she came on this earth knowing how to handle everything, then there would be no need for God to make parents. He would just plop us here and send us on our way."

The world is such a different place for our little girls. They are trying so hard to compete at such high levels finding their place in a world where people think of equality now, versus that of God's design. They want to be tough like boys, but don't know how to balance that with their natural feminine instincts. It can be particularly more difficult for little girls who have issues in their lives that they find embarrassing so perhaps they search for other means to prove that they are okay."

"I just thought you should know that with kids who carry things so close to their heart it can be challenging and I understand what you are feeling."

I also received much encouragement from friends to keep plugging along this mothering trail:

"Hearing your words just re-enforced what Tripp says in Shepherding a Child's Heart--it's not their behavior we focus on; it's what is going on in their hearts. We parents can help our kids experience cleansing and wholeness as they learn to delete these fears, wounds, and unrealistic expectations from their little hearts.Hopefully, you will have the joy of a mother watching her adult child who has THROWN OFF EVERY ENCUMBRANCE AND THE SINS WHICH SO EASILY BESET HER and is running her race of life!Blessings to you in your mothering."

She is one of my favorite kids....I love her spunk...she reminds me of my daughter in many ways...

"Aren't you thankful when the Holy Spirit allows us to see a little deeper and reveal a little more about one of the Lord's precious creations!"

Finally, I was overwhelmed at the response to me, as a "writer." I didn't know how many of you read this little corner of the world of mine. To clarify, I know the general numbers of who checks out my blog daily, but I do not have names. How enjoyable it was for me to hear many of you comment on facebook. Glad I can provide some free entertainment for you, although I know I am on the greater receiving end.

On a last note regarding transparency, a topic I refer to often, let me quote a comment I received on something I wrote I while ago.

"This post feels like a pep talk for anyone (such as myself) that follows Christ out on a limb and then needs to remind themselves of why they went out there. Saying something is too personal is just an excuse to remain comfortable...and I'm right there with you, sick of comfy and ready for real! Keep it up!"
Thank you for comforting me in my time of anxiety and panic. I love the dialogue and comments although I can't always respond. If the your comments and life experiences are encouraging to me, then they are to others as well. Keep them up!


For God did not destine us for wrath, but to gain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live together with him. Therefore, encourage one another and build one another up, as indeed you do.
Thessalonians 5:9-11

Be Still My Beating Heart...

I have been listening to some long ago forgotten CDs which I discovered while cleaning out for market. One is Field's of Gold, a great one by Sting. I have the warmest, in a literal and figurative sense, memories of this CD, driving in my '87 Honda Civic to Myrtle Beach over Spring Break during my senior year of high school. There is a stretch of back logging roads along that route that during April and May is simply stunning. Both sides of the road are covered with the most ultra bright and fresh green grass fields and wild flowers. There was a heightened sense of freedom during this particular drive and I assume it was youth, the end of high school and unlimited possibilities all coming to a head. Years have passed, 20 to be exact, and I have driven that street to the point where I could nearly do it blindfolded. Everytime though, I think of that one specific trip and my friend, Debi, whenever I hear the CD or drive that route.

As I busied myself around the house this morning trying to recover from the tornado of activity that accompanied a family wedding weekend, one particular song stood out - "Be Still My Beating Heart." As I listened and sang along to the lyrics, a line, much familiar to me, stood out: "And, I wriggle like a fish caught on dry land." I found myself sinking into a bit of a melancholy place. The song continues further..."I sink like a stone that's been thrown in the ocean. My logic has drowned in a sea of emotion." I can't say what Sting meant by those words, but I inserted it into my own life and well, just didn't like the outcome.

Maybe it is mid-life. Maybe it is that my youngest child is leaving for kindergarten in August. Maybe it is that life doesn't seem to hold to have as much...what is the word I am looking for - purpose, meaning, fulfillment? Possibly? Not sure that is it. It does have meaning and purpose, it just lacks focus, lacks a clear path at the moment. My brain holds years of biblical study that gives me the answer to all of this. Yet, I am tired of trying to keep it at the forefront. My emotions are simply drowning me and I think that the life preserver with my name on it lingers just out of sight. If I could only see it, touch it, and thrive because of it.


Maybe this is what happens when you decide to stop working for perfection and give it all up to simply live freely. I mean, while running on that comfortable and well-worn performance treadmill, I was solidly focused. Albeit it was a terribly never-ending and unreachable focus, but a focus nevertheless. Now, I am in limbo between two worlds, not feeling at home in either and certainly not where I currently reside. In fact, I feel a little lost in my freedom. Isn't that interesting. If none of this daily grind (you know, the mundane) really matters, then what in the world am I doing every day? My life seems to be nothing but mundane. Sigh. Not a good day for me and it was particularly punctuated by cleaning the kitchen, folding laundry, dealing with a landscaper, taking a trip to Costco, the dry cleaners, picking the dog up from the vet, taking Jay his suit to work, taking Lily to gymnastics, picking up kids from school while listening to music that makes my skin crawl, checking homework, listening to reading, preparing for scouts, fixing and cleaning up after dinner, hauling kids to scouts, teaching 7 girls about geology (as if), and getting kids baths/ready for bed with a book and snack. When will this discontentment stop?

Lord, be still my anxiously beating heart...

I received an email from a good friend in regards to my post, Forever Young. My friend wrote very clearly what I have been feeling:


Been there, done that, felt the same abandonment - back here, keeping all the plates spinning, making everything "look right" on the outside, being everything to everyone. Can I possibly be the same person now that I was then? Is the same me still inside? There are days when that voice of wanderlust is still and quiet, but many days when she is screaming at me to get up and go. But I remember that I'm the responsible one now, the one with commitments and schedules, the one with too many people dependent on me.


Do I miss that life? - yes. Am I happy with my life now? - yes. But above all, I'm grateful God gave me those years to wander and roam His fabulous world. It gives me depth and perspective now which hopefully makes me a better wife, mom, sister, person, etc ...


I have done a bit of thinking about what I am teaching my kids. Are we enjoying life, amidst the routine and jobs. Or, am I so focused on performance and responsibility that it is completely overshadowed. I mean, does it really matter if the laundry sits on the table for one more day or if their rooms are messy more days than clean? What are we doing every day to enjoy what God has given us?I agree that voice is louder on some days than others. I guess it is screaming at the top of my lungs at the moment. Now, what to do with it....

I Dream a Dream with Susan Boyle

If you haven't seen her, maybe you have heard her. She is the latest viral video sensation on youtube thanks to the television show, "Britain's Got Talent." Last I checked videos of her had been viewed some 16 million times worldwide in less than some 3 days. That alone could make you curious to watch her, right? What is so special about this lady? Well, watch this and see: Susan Boyle. Seriously, if you don't watch the video you will not come close to understanding this post. Well, ok, that is a bit of an exaggeration, but I really want you to experience it all the way to the end as the judges comments are quite compelling.

You learn from the video that she lives alone with her cat, Peebles. She is unemployed, never been married, never been kissed and is 47. Yes, 47, and the quintessential frumpy, single, cat lady. The video does not begin to tell her whole story.

What you don't know, but I do, because of the magic of google, is that she found the courage to go on such a show because it was her dying mother's wish, whom she nursed until her death. She has a learning disability that made her the subject of cruel teasing and taunting as a child. This learning disability was caused by a lack of oxygen to her brain which occurred because of abuse she endured when she was young.

Yet, here she is. And, I love her. Why?

Yeah, ok, we all love the underdog. In economic times such as these we all need a little boost to our day, a little smile. But, I think it goes much deeper than this. At least it does for me.

I love her because she has beaten the odds. Yes, I know that defines her as an "underdog", but keep reading. She rose above the circumstances, the abuse, the bullying, and if I may go so far to say this...most likely loneliness, heartbreak, emotional turmoil that goes far beyond where I have been.

I relate to her because I have been on the nasty receiving end of taunting and teasing. And, no doubt, sadly and with much remorse, I doled out some verbal vomit and was dismissive to others. Watching Ms. Boyle created in me this ball of compassion and conviction that erupted into the such overflow of tears and exuberance that I nearly stood up and clapped and cheered for her while in my own study. My smile was large and wide and very uncontrollable. While watching her, it was like I was breaking free of some childhood pain and vowing to create a new legacy for my own children. My heart wants never to make a snap judgment of someone's worth, because every single person has worth, immeasurable worth. I know we often say that, but don't our actions often betray this sentiment?

Honestly, she is not an attractive woman, physically. Yet, she comes onto that stage with such confidence (note the swagger). She rolls her hips around with flair. She is real, albeit a bit raw. How does she do this? Because she is utterly who she is, without a doubt she knows who she is. And, she allows me to see who she is, not just the persona of who she strains to be. I want that for myself.

She has been singing since she was 12. Her dream is to be a professional singer, singing in front of a large audience and to be as successful as Elaine Page. Boyles' outlay of her aspirations made me think about my own dreams and goals. To equate her goal to something in my life means that my dream would be to have a NY Times best seller. I wouldn't dare think about anything like that. It has never even crossed my mind. Being on Oprah, well, that is another story, made long before writing ever entered the picture. But really, I would be happy just to see something in actual print. The question is...why don't I dream big? Why don't I allow myself to even think about such lofty ideas?

Most importantly, however, is this: Despite what has been a lifetime of rejection, Susan Boyle appears to be quite authentic and transparent. Her own life is an open book, not shuffled under the rug and or hidden behind the door, nor attempted to be anything it is not. How did she arrive to this point in her life? Well, she learned to sing in church and it is there that she practiced her amazing gift. I would imagine that her relationship with God is what is really on display here. It is only through Him that we can be comfortable, that we can be free to be who we really are.

Today's bottom line: It is world's most erroneous standard and we have bought into it. The lie is that only the beautiful, rich and fabulous have something to offer this world. The lesson of Susan Boyle is that every single being matters - who they are, what they are and how they dream. And, if she couldn't hold a tune, she should be loved just as much.

Sometimes, It's Personal

I have no doubt that yesterday's post made some readers uncomfortable. In fact, I am sure within the nearly 80 readers yesterday, someone thought to themselves, "Why would she expose herself to the world like that?" Or, "Why would she want people to know so much about her personally?" Better yet, "It has been two years, shouldn't she be over this now?" "How long is she going to go on about this?"

The fact is, many of us have had similar experiences with death - sudden, sharp, deeply painful and life altering. You can read through my blog in January and February about the painful grief that I was revisiting, two years after the fact. It was a complete shock to me that the tears, crying, loss, loneliness and sense of abandonment rivaled that of the first month after her passing. I believe that other circumstances in my life brought this unfinished business of grieving to the surface at this time. A catalyst, if you will, to force me to toil through it. Grief is a never ending, in my experience. Maybe it goes away for periods of time, but it will always rotate back into play.

It doesn't take much to bring back just how big of a loss it is to my life. A friend was with her sister at a women's retreat and their interaction was bittersweet to me. I have needed a permanent helper with my scout group and realized this week, that she would have been my co-leader. My (step)brother is getting married in May and my (step)sister is getting married in June - celebrations at which she should have been in attendance.

Yet, at times I don't feel like I can share that with anyone. Why? Well, society says suck it up and deal. Life moves on even though we may not be ready to move with it. Even our employers think we should be fully functional after 2 or 3 days. Every one has their own stories, their own grief, their own lives...who has time to sit and listen to my sad song just one more time. Mine is but one of millions. Mine is not that special.

This is also not a call to the pity party, though Lord knows I can throw the best of them, complete with hats, streamers and a big ol' cake I devour on my own. And you can waller along not living life only so long. It will creep up on you and then you will be forced to deal with more than just your grief. Unfortunately, I speak from experience.

However, in my quest for transparency and authenticity, I find that the more I let it all hangout there, the good, the bad, the hilarious and the sad, the more connections and support I receive. People have a chance to know the real me and I am not afraid of that anymore. This means exposing my heart to those that know me intimately as well as complete strangers. People need and desire to know that others have had similar experiences, similar pains, even similar joys. It makes us all feel more normal. It gives us validation. It makes us feel that what we have endured has not been for naught.

It also helps to see how others cope. We must keep the mindset that we have all been created by a Creator with our own set of gifts, skill sets, and experiences. But in celebrating these differences, we can find strength in how God has woven Himself into these events to bring a greater good. We can find strength in knowing there is a bigger picture which we can not see. We can find strength in knowing that a finality of dirt and worms just isn't all there is.

A post like Remember the End, selfishly serves as therapy for me. The million-pound burden on my shoulders was lifted when I wrote it. The story was finally out, no longer at the surface in a constant state of bubbling. Stories like these bring people together, to laugh, to cry, to work through their own life's stories. And, maybe they draw strength to face their own giants.

So, yeah, it might have been a little too close for comfort, full with emotion and transparency. Highs, lows and in between...sometimes, it just needs to be personal.