Hope.

It's really dark outside.  Really rainy, too.  In fact, it was so drab and rainy that my curly-Q babe slept in an extra half hour.  It was quite glorious.

The ironic thing about this morning is the fact that even though the sky is dusky, the ground is flooded, and the temperature cool, there is something about today that is full of Hope.

I am typically a very weather sensitive person.  If it's sunny, I'm happy.  If it's dark, I'm somber.  But today, it seems different.  It's as if the darkness of the outside is instead brewing a deep sense of anticipation...of expectation.

Time and time again, I've seen how triumph comes after a storm.  How beautiful comes from difficult.  How life comes from death.  Today is one of those days.

Sometimes we expect things to turn out a certain way.  We get our hopes up.  We dream.  Then, something different happens.  And the unexpected result can make us weary, disappointed, sick even.

I keep being reminded of that scripture today that reads "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of Life" (Proverbs 13:12).  That's really how it feels, isn't it?  You wait and wait, you think this is it and then that is it, and it isn't.  Makes a heart sick.  But then, after the waiting, after the trial and the error, it happens.  It's fulfilled.  It can be realized in a moment.  This process, of searching and seeking, of waiting and dreaming, is the Hope.  It's the journey.  It's a tree of Life.

This pilgrimage is the Tree of Life growing.  It goes through seasons of drought and seasons of fruit.  It goes through sunny days and rainy days. Each of them essential.  Each of them part of the voyage.

There's beauty in a leaf budding in the spring, and there is also allure in a leaf changing color in the Fall.  There's even elegance when there are no leaves at all.  If the leaves stayed during the winter, the ice would surely only bogg them down.  No, the winter needs the branches.  Because the branches can hold the stiffness of frozen water whereas the leaves could not.  And after the branches have done their duty, the leaves will bloom again.  They'll produce new fruit, new life.  And so goes the process.

That's how today feels.  Perhaps it's the after holiday "blues".  Perhaps it's that job you hoped you'd get or the miracle you were counting on.  It's hope deferred for a moment.  But then, if you allow it, it becomes a Tree of Life.  You feel the disappointment and you let the grief ride, and then, you get ready. You become available for the next installment.  What is my Hope for the day?  You can answer it the way you'd like.

Mine includes a faithful God.  A series of faithful acts when I've been faithless.  Another series of forgiveness when I've not been very forgiving.  Favor when I've not always acted righteously.  And love when sometimes love was the last thing on my mind.  He has become my Tree of Life.  He is my desire fulfilled.  And when my mind stays fast on this, the seasons seem a lot easier.  Not nearly as traumatic or unnerving.  Life is better.  My desire is fulfilled.  And my life goes through the pruning, through the sometimes drought, and through the blooming with great anticipation of what's to come.  The good that will be fostered, the truth that will be embroidered onto my soul, and the stature that is to be gained...that of a dense and lofty oak.  It is righteous and wise, strong and virtuous.  The sun gleams through its leaves and children play in its shade.  It's my legacy to leave.  It's my story and my song.

It is my Hope for today.

2 Corinthians 4:8-10

 ⁸ We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. ⁹ We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed. ¹⁰ Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.

(corresponding song: This is Home by Jon Foreman)

Catch up Monday.

It's Catch up Monday.  Flew back from "The Cleve" yesterday early morning.  Way early.  And somehow on both our way to and from Ohio, we escaped radiation and pat downs. Whew.

We hopped off the air-o-plane and headed back home in our yellow SUV to meet a very happy St. Bernard who was awaiting our arrival.

It was a good Thanksgiving.  Full of laughing and baby-kissing.  And board games.

Today, it's back to the sweetness of home.  Time to catch up on laundry, to catch up on spine adjustments after a week of missing chiropractic appointments, and then to vacuum the couches from where Howie slept all week with his muddy paws.  Yesterday, on the plane ride home, I had great aspirations for how much catching up I would do today.  Yet, today, I have lacked a bit of motivation.  It's hard to switch gears.  Going "home" for the holidays is almost like an alternate reality.  Then, you get back to your current home, and you gotta ease your way back in.  So, easy does it.

Laundry is spinning in the dryer while making that clacking noise from one of my jean buttons.  The baby monitor is pulsing next to me with the sound of the "womb" on Ella's sound machine.  Howie is snoring while sprawled out next to the couch.  And our bare Christmas tree is letting its branches fall a bit from being tied up at the lot.  There's a smell of evergreen in the air, and all is slow and peaceful.

I've got a list of Christmas creations in my head.  Excited to get to them.  But today, I'm committing to rest.  Soakin' up the slowness of a Monday at home post holiday.  It's refreshing and restful.  Getting back to quiet.  And spending the day with no expectations.

So, with that, I'm off to curl up with a good book.  Hot coffee in hand.  Blanket on lap.  Big pillow behind me.

Happy Monday.

(corresponding song:  Love Vigilantes by Iron and Wine)

Celebrate we will.

I throw my hands up in the air sometimes
Saying AYO
Gotta let go
I wanna celebrate and live my life
Saying AYO
Baby, let's go

I came to dance, dance, dance, dance...


Turkey Day is almost here.  You know what that means.  


Celebration.


One of my most favorite things.


Lots of good food. David's cookin'. Babies are laughing. Family movies on the tube.  And Scattergories being played in the dining room.


Oh yea.


And then, there's dinner at the table.  Ever since I was a little kid, I've had this thing about eating meals at the table.  There's something about the connection that happens over a meal that makes the supernatural occur; it's family.  And, yes, as dysfunctional as family can be sometimes, it is in fact, supernatural.  And it's during these times, at the dinner table (over a Turkey perhaps) where everything in the world stops for just a little while, and for a few minutes, we give thanks.


Now, if I had it my way, my thanks would probably include some sort of dancin'; it's just the way I am.  You know, hands up in the air, booty shakin', head bobbin' THANKS.  That's just how I roll. Lots to be thankful for this year. LOTS.


I may not exactly have the opportunity to sport my thanks this way at dinner.  But it's not stoppin' me now.  Today I've got to pack, to clean, and to dance.  It's just bubbling up...and when it starts bubblin', you don't dare stop it.  So, it'll be one of those soapy dish hands meets the Jackson Five, vacuum sweeping lady meets Shakira (yikes), and diaper changin' mama meets Chubby Checker days.  I might even have to break out my disco ball.  Yes, I have one.  It's for parties, ok?


And today's one of those party days.


Here's some of the beauty in which I get to give thanks for this year.

Yes, 2010, you've been mighty nice to me this year.  And, I give thanks.


Happy Thanksgiving!


In everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. 
--1 Thessalonians 5:18


(corresponding song: Dynamite by Taio Cruz)

Ode to Women

Ever hear voices? You know, the little angel on one shoulder and the little devil on the other?

This one tells you to run, that one tells you to stay.

And then you add yourself to the mix, then you add your spouse, your friends, your boss, etc. etc. etc.  Pretty soon, you can possibly be the barometer of any room (or so it feels).

If you are a sensitive spirit, like myself, you are very aware of these "voices".  Sometimes you can hear them without someone even saying anything.  You can just feel it.  They speak with body language, with tone, with frequencies.  Some people call it intuition, some people call it discernment, some people call it flat out crazy.

And it's me.

And, it may be you, too? It seems to be a lot of women.  Their sensory organs are extraordinary. They see through eyes, ears, and their spirit. They just "get" stuff without it needing to be explained.  They read between the lines, they sense this or that, they just "know".  We, women, are a special breed.  And I've really come to love us.

Women often get a bad rap for being oversensitive, emotional, or irrational.  Their feelings can be berated and overlooked as sweet or cute.  Their role looked upon as little helper.  This mindset really makes my blood boil.  Because these women, these sensitive spirits, these intercessors...they go to war daily.  Not only for themselves, but for their husbands, for their families, for the world.

If you've ever met a woman, you know this.  You don't mess with a Mama Bear.  And yet, the voices are strong, and the war can be brutal.

These "voices" can come in the form of a serpent in a garden or also from an angelic beauty that appears to a 13 year old young virgin.  The voice of the serpent deceived the woman into the fall of mankind.  The voice of the angelic beauty supernaturally birthed the Savior for the same mankind.  That's some serious business.

And you know what? It seems as though God likes to choose women to be ambassadors for that serious business.  Every day, women are giving birth and and also enlisting in the military. They are rising in government office and they are also at home raising children.  Women are multi-faceted beings that carry life, love, and war.  They cannot be put in a box.

Last year around this time, I was about 7 months pregnant with Ella.  I remember carrying my big belly around and thinking about Mary a lot.  About what it felt like to be pregnant with a supernatural being by supernatural means.  Her baby would be both God and man; a combination of perfection.  This also made me think about the supernatural being in my belly.  The meaning of Ella is the female form of "who is like God".  She, also, would carry the likeness of God and the essence of woman.  Another combination of perfection.  And, me, the blessed one...who was chosen to carry and to birth her.

Just this alone, gives the term woman a whole new value.  We are feelers, we are warriors, we are birthers.  And we have been chosen to do so.

Seems as though there are a lot of women on the rise right now.  At least when I look around or when I talk to them, I hear a cry coming from within them to build.  They're tired of being put on the back-burner, tired of being pushed around, and tired of being confined to their ladies Bible study.  They're ready to make history.  They're ready for war.  They're ready to say something.

And those voices I mentioned earlier? Those senses, that discernment, that intuition?  It only makes them more accurate.  The battles will only sharpen their skills for when they have reached the top of the mountain.  It will only add to their authority and to their honor.

I've been thinking about this topic a lot lately, perhaps because it keeps getting put in my path.  It feels like we're at the brink of change.  In fact, we are already in change.  This is just another part of it.

So, my faithful blog readers, my friends, and women in the world, I salute you today! For your sacrifices, for your faith, for no longer putting up with the small boxes that have tried to cramp your style and your giftings.  May the world be yours and all your dreams with it...

Happy Monday!

(corresponding song: Mushaboom by Feist)

On the Move

Yes, yes. She's on the move... We're on the move.

And off she goes...

Sometimes she has to go backward in order to end up going forward. Know what I'm sayin'?
And sometimes, she gets stuck under a chair. And that's ok, too. It gives her a chance to rest and to inspect all the crevices of the hardwood floor (which she loves to do by the way).
She is such a picture. As I watched her move around yesterday, I was amazed. Her little life is quite the representation of how we learn and grow. I realize that every parent probably thinks this...because it's the first time we can actually watch "ourselves" grow from a different angle. It really is a gift from God.

I kept thinking about her crawling yesterday. How she just goes all over the floor...backwards. She happily just cruised around, rubbing little worn out spots into the knees of her pj's, scoopin' up a few Howie hairs along the way. She had no problem with going backward. And even though in my adult mind, it seems funny to go backward first, it really seemed to make sense to me yesterday.

Because, in fact, going backward will actually turn into going forward. And going forward will turn into standing and standing will turn into walking. Walking to running. You get the picture.

As I've been taking inventory, I was realizing it's kind of like crawling backward. Sometimes before you move ahead, you need to take some time to look back. I seem to do this a lot when I'm going through some sort of transition. I can already feel the transition for the New Year brewing. I always get this way around this time of year. Takin' a good look at my last 11 months. The good, the bad, the ugly. Where have I grown? What have I learned? What could use some improvement and what flat out needs to change? Then, I give thanks...for all of it. Celebratin' the good times and the hard times. For all that makes us love, overcome, and succeed. And then after Thanksgiving, it's full blown nesting. Let's get ready for that new baby come Christmas. And at Christmas, we celebrate, too. New birth, new life...and presents. I love presents.

And after Christmas, comes...New Year's (more presents!).

I'm not necessarily a big New Years Resolution person. More like a Bucket List person. I tend to drive myself crazy when I force myself into some kind of organized program. But, when I make a list of things I'd like to do that year, it gives my year a whole new meaning. It gives me expectation and a tangible way of watching my dreams come true. You've got to be faithful in believin' for a little, that way when it comes true, it gives you the faith to believe for a lot. That's how I like to live anyway.

So, as I've been taking my inventory this month, I've also been makin' my 2011 Bucket List. It's lookin' mighty fine so far. Lots to look forward to. Maybe when I get finished, I'll share some of it with you... :)

(corresponding song: Falling for You by Colbie Caillat)

Inventory Days

I've been studying codependency the last, um, 6 years. Funny thing to study you say? Not if you're codependent. We all are to a degree, some more than others, depending on your personality, gifting, woundedness, etc. It's just one of those real life things.

Every so often, I take an inventory of myself. It's not usually a scheduled thing, it's usually a God-timing thing. Like when He's trying to tell me something, and I'm not listening. Then, lo and behold, things start going wrong. Start having a bad day here and a bad day there. Anxiety starts to creep back in, or I start to worry about something stupid. Anybody ever been there? Yea, I thought so.

Anyway, I usually end up getting to a point where I realize my life has yet again become unmanageable. When this happens, I usually start by subconsciously playing the victim card (I'll probably blog about this one later, it's a doozy). It sounds something like "Why did this happen to me? I didn't do anything wrong. Blah blah blah. Woe is me." We all know it, and again, some of us know it better than others.

Next, I move to some sort of rationalization. "Well, I only did it because xyz. I had to protect myself, they would have been mad and it would have caused a big blow up, or they just don't understand." Or my personal favorite, "If I don't do it, nobody will." Blah blah blah.

Finally, I get back to some sort of a reality. (Thank you, God.) At this point, I decide...it's time to start taking inventory. Where did my days start going bad? Where did my life take the detour into the wild jungle?

For me, it usually ends up somewhere in the codependent/enabling category. Doing too much for others, not saying no even when I want to, or the ever-so-clever staying busy taking care of everyone else while my own life is falling apart. I used to live here......real bad. Nowadays, it's not so bad. The last six years, though painful as they were, stripped me of a lot of those deep-rooted behaviors. But every once and awhile, I'll get a chance to go a little further, take another step. Get another chance to say "no". This usually brings fear at first (proving that I am still codependent). I get a good work-up, go through the pros and cons in my head, and then I finally take the plunge (because in my guts, I can't possibly survive if I don't do it). And, I say no. Whew. And you know what? It feels darn good. And for me, a lot of those wild jungle adventures start to slow down. Things start coming back into place, and not only into place, but into a Higher place.

It's usually messy. It's usually a little grueling and uncomfortable. I don't typically come in riding a white horse, saving the day. Instead, it usually looks opposite. I stumble, get nervous, doubt myself. But I once heard that courage is not that you do something with bravery but that you do something you are scared to do. I like that. That is real life stuff.

You know what else is real life stuff? The Twelve Steps. Take a looky for yourself, alcoholic or codependent or whatever type of addict you may be, and see what ya think. Happy Thursday!

1. We admitted we were powerless over our addiction--that our lives had become unmanageable.

2. Came to believe that a Power Greater than Ourselves could restore us to sanity.

3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects in character.

7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to others, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

P.S. Coincidentally, my blog is well established now and ready to go. So, if you enjoy following me, bookmark or "follow" this page. I'm giving my FB account the ax tomorrow, so you'll no longer be able to click on the links I've been posting. If, however, you like what I say and want to share it, feel free. You just click on one of those "share" buttons below. ;)

(corresponding song: Heart of Life by John Mayer)

Butterflies are Free.

"I only ask to be free. The butterflies are free." --Charles Dickens

Butterflies are Free. That's what I'm workin' on saying.

It's my monologue piece. About 2 minutes long and comical, yet also fearful and a little sad. In this piece, my character, Jill, is trying to convince herself into why she cannot become emotionally involved with the man she is falling in love with. She's made some silly mistakes, like being married for six days during high school, to none other than a guy named Jack...and from what I gather, she's the one who ended it. And the dread of her hurting someone else (or herself) is what keeps her from moving forward into love. Instead, she just "flies" from one place to another. In addition, she is also an aspiring actress, is constantly eating, and adores butterflies. Yes, I like her. She is messy and chaotic and beautiful and fun.

And there's something about her that feels like...me. I've been married for longer than six days, but I can relate to her fears of getting hurt and hurting someone else. It's that tugging and slugging that happens in a chrysalis. And, I can definitely relate to what a chrysalis feels like.

I finished monotonously memorizing my lines last week. Then, I spent some time doing a character analysis. And, low and behold, did my life become Jill Tanner's for the weekend. Very fun...and not fun at the same time.

I felt her anxiety and her low self-esteem. I considered if it was worth it to move forward into something that seems to be scary and perhaps very committing of myself. I looked at the two versions of a butterfly. There are butterflies that go from place to place not being committed to anything; those butterflies are "free". And there are butterflies that are committed to something, like love, and those butterflies are a deeper type of free.

Needless to say, this Jill Tanner, she and I became great friends this week.

I'll get to officially step into her shoes tomorrow...twice. 10 students + 1 teacher gawking at the experience. It'll be my time to SAY SOMETHING.

Would love to hear what you're workin' on saying...whether it's art or exercise or administrative or poetic...

P.S. Check out this blog. Amazing!

(corresponding song: Up by Shania Twain)