This.

It's funny how life unfolds. One moment you're hustling diapers and work and divorce. The next you wake up and the diapers were 13 years ago, the work is completely different, and the divorce is long behind you with a new partner in your life. You literally go to get a bagel, turn around and your life has aged 10 years.

I had awakenings during my thirties. I came into myself. I found grace. I found God. I walked through pain. Uncovered hidden insecurities. Left behind pretense for raw truth. It was a brutiful time in my life.

Fast forward to now...in 8 months I will be 40. Four. Tee. I honestly don't know how I got here. I don't know how a thirteen and eleven year old stand before me. At thirty, I felt incapable. At almost forty, I feel rushed for time. I feel the weight of raising strong, courageous, gentle, holy women while learning how to raise a man child. But honestly, most of the time I just feel lost.

I wake up with my to do list and I run through the day from thing to thing checking off and hoping to God that I'm doing it with grace. I've complained internally to myself and sometimes God about the mundane tasks before me. (I don't out loud because then my peaceful "I am wonder woman" cover would be blown.) I race hard to run from myself. To run from my own internal questions. Much like I did at 30.

Again, It's funny how life unfolds. I was quite sure "I did my work" as Iyanla Vanzant says when I progressed through my thirties. But as I near forty, I realize all of life is doing the work. I realize that as we go from one level of enlightenment and revelation we are propelled into the next. I realize that things and areas we felt we had "conquered" come back again and again and require the dreaded "work". I realize that as my Dad tells me, we work till we die trying to become like Him. I realize I will continue to fall and fail. Conquer and celebrate. I will continue to uncover truths and lies within. I will continue to work.

It has been a hard realization. I lived a couple of years in a kind of numbed out bliss. It was awesome. I moved from book to book. I spent money like crazy. I let my kids destroy their room. I also worked 16 hour shifts, went to school full time as a single mom, and financially carried our little tribe. But while I was working hard and thought growing in enlightenment, looking back, I realize I was only answering to myself. I only could judge myself by myself. Which I find now leads to self imposed importance and impression. Hence...numbed out bliss.

I have found that it is in the trenches of chaos, goals that are un-obtained as previously thought, failure, mundane daily tasks, budgets, clean kid rooms, and grace that I am really called to become enlightened. I am really called to soar and grow. Experience gives us weight behind our words. Failure gives us healthy fear and humility. Reality gives us a good ol shot of what our character really is in the light of day. It's not easy. It's not always fun. It's definitely not pretty.

What I have written so far sounds so dark, I realize. But here is the deal...it's not. It's necessary, but not so much dark. I sat with my sister in law a few weeks ago and she said a statement I've heard a thousand times "Life is just hard." But for some reason, I've replayed that statement in my mind a thousand times since. It struck me as I thought about people I love, people I nurse, people I see in the news. No one has it easy. Not even those with the perfect Instagram families. The ones who are fit, gorgeous, beautiful home, God lovers, great marriage...they still have closet moments of doubt. They still are going to counselors for anxiety. Those who are single, who appear to be living the dream with no worries of schools for children, or what to feed the family for dinner...they still are searching for someone to talk about their day with, they still feel lonely when they post their amazing pics from the latest all inclusive trip to the Bahamas. Life. Is. Hard. None of us get out alive or unscathed.

Ok. Still sounds dark. Here's the beauty:

This. This is how it is meant to be. We were not created to live in a sweet cocoon of bliss. We were created to seek. We were created to rest in Him. We were created to know that THIS. This is not all there is and it shouldn't satisfy nor sustain us. We were designed to always feel the gap. The gap that reminds us...no other gods before me. No idols. No happiness you ever find in this life is bigger than me. God. Hence, we will always be "doing the work." The beauty in that is in those closet moments of doubt, unrest, insecurity and downright madness...we are comforted by a peace so strong that we can only crave more. We are sustained by a love so tangible that nothing or no one will ever come close to the acceptance and joy we feel when in relationship with our Daddy God. It was meant to be this way. Even the bitter becomes sweet. It's how He designed it.

So...when I have the hard conversations with my teen, when my husband and I face insurmountable challenges trying to raise a tribe and work as a team, when I feel the weight of forty and I'm running out of time...I am reminded...THIS. This is what it's all about. This is what I was created for...this..as Brene Brown would say "is the rumble." These moments, these obstacles, these moments of joy when I hold my baby and he laughs his belly laugh...these are all part of the divine purpose of my life. My calling. There is NOTHING bigger. NOTHING greater than walking it out...trusting the designer that the frame he has built is solid, secure, un-scathable (Yes, I made that word up) . It is His plan for each of us. When we dwell in the design he has for us, we begin to see the beauty of the light that floods through the widows of the structure. We begin to realize the hope of our calling. We begin to feel the joy...not bliss. Bliss fades. Joy is eternal.

Then we realize...ah...THIS. This is what you meant by abundant life. THIS. This is what you meant by eternal life. All the mess. All the work. It's a beautiful structure. We can choose to dwell on the dilemmas or we can see the blueprint that will take a lifetime to complete. We can trust the architect and his expertise, or we can try to be a sub contractor of our destiny and have leaks in every room. The choice is ours. A life...or abundant life...

I'm choosing abundance. Right here. Right now. I'm choosing the way that knows the internal hole is there for a reason and it will never be filled until I see Him. I'm choosing the beauty in what is not sexy most days and requires monotonous, repeated actions to acquire the goals we have set. I'm choosing to embrace gratefulness for the process because in the work I find Him...and I find me. Isn't that the point?

Grace n Peace,

A ~

That time I bled out...and other warrior problems...

It's odd... the losing of one's self...the slow dissipation of what once made you alive replaced with monotony and numbness. I didn't wake up one morning gone. It was a slow bleed. A trickle like a finger that had been pricked and bled one drop at a time into a bandage that eventually seeped through the gauze. It caught me unawares.

Everyone who knows me and loves me saw it... saw the drip... rallied me... but they were unable to stop the bleed. I was pale. Ghastly in my soul. Grabbing furiously at bandaids and ointments...but the bleed continued. Books and quotes would lift me for a period but never sustained me into rising again. So...as us medical junkies would say...I bled out.

When one bleeds out, they die. They cannot be resuscitated. There is no hope. Their body is drained of all blood and sustenance to sustain life. I bled out. I can't put my finger on exactly what led to my demise. I was keeping a schedule that was more than insane. I got pregnant in the middle of that schedule at 38. I failed nursing school by 1 percentage point. I quit going to church due to my schedule. I lost my centering time with God. It was a myriad of things. Again...a slow steady trickle... of me not engaging in the things that make me alive and centered.

The sad part is that when my family reads this blog they will hurt... will blame themselves... but nothing could be further from the truth. Family shouldn't drain you... they should sustain you. In the months leading up to my final demise, it was my tribe that kept me alive with their love... it was cooking together... laughing together... being held when I didn't have it in me to ask for touch. They kept me alive. Eventually though, I had come to last the pint... and even those moments could no longer resuscitate me.

When I finally bled out, I quit. I kept my schedule. I worked. I tended to children and walked the garden with my husband. But I had quit. I was empty. Shell like. It was all as if I were watching my life from a stadium seat and the players were blurry. I never stopped. I never surrendered. I kept walking like a ghostly emaciated soul thinking no one noticed. Everyone noticed.

When the final drop hit the gauze, I hit the floor. I hit it so hard that the sound ricocheted through the halls until everyone could no longer ignore it and came running. There I lay... formless... small... and still.

God has often spoken to me through movie reels in my head so to speak. When I'm still He comes to my mind and shows me where He is... where He is moving. He came to me that day. I visualized him picking me up in his arms... carrying me to his lap... and placing my head on his chest. I cried. Sobbed really.... into his glory. He let me. He lifted my chin and looked into my eyes... and with his love said with no words..."I have you." Then he rocked me. Back and forth like I rock my little baby boy... gently... tenderly... for as long as I needed. I've never felt so secure. So accepted. So complete.

I feel like that day God gave me a transfusion of sorts. It wasn't several gallons... but it was a small slow drip of life again. A glimpse into the light from where I had be surviving...a place that I could walk into slowly and regain myself. Regain my thoughts. Regain my passions. Regain my relationships.

While I certainly was probably sad and depressed a bit, I was not clinically depressed. I did consult with my physician. I did talk through the issues at hand. I did admit I was 38 with crazy hormones after a newborn. He agreed. Ha! But no... this was burnout. Pure and Simple. Burnout takes you to places that are hard to bounce back from... because you are numb and you are weary. The thought of doing anything to get yourself back is too tiring and you'd rather just sit down. I get it.

Thing is... no one can save you... and they all want to because they all blame themselves when you're staring into space... but they can't. You have to save yourself. You have to take that one tiny, minute vestige of life you have left and grab onto something solid. God. It's the only way. It's the only lifeline. There are no quick fixes. There are no magic yoga poses that will make it disappear. It's freaking' hard work of the soul, the body, and mind. Oh God the mind. Yes... the mind will take you lower than you want to go when you are burnt out. It will lie to you. It will destroy you if you allow it. Don't. Let. It.

I know I'm not the only one. I've talked to you guys. In the last month. Mothers, single women, all walks... you're burnt crispy... and you're beating the hell out of yourself about it. Stop. Life beats us all down. We all hit the limit. I hope that you will grasp your limit before you do something stupid. I'm not even talking about hurting yourself, I'm talking about stupid decisions based on the angst and the numbness. Don't do that. Read this. Know you're normal. Know you're not alone. Know you are a warrior like the rest of us with real joys, real pain, real needs, and real despair.

It's the only way boo.

You can't get up off that floor anemic on your last drop of blood without help. Get your tribe together. Even if it's one friend. One advisor. One random therapist. Get help. Step off that floor and breathe. I promise you life is not as serious as it looks staring up from the linoleum. And when you are rising... be kind to your tribe. You've probably scared the crap out of them and they are staring at you like you've lost your marbles. It's ok. They love you. They want you back. But the only way back is through... and through you must go. Through the recovery of what makes you you. Through the recovery of building your physical reserves back up. Through the hard work of bringing your mind into subjection with what HE says about you. THAT is the biggest key. THAT is what will heal you.

I say to myself over and over throughout my days. "I can do all things through Him. He strengthens me." It's a mantra. It centers me. It reminds me that no matter what... I'm not going back to the floor. He's filled my body with all I need for the next round. Find your own mantra. Chant it to yourself. Then don't quit. You have too much to give. Too much to shine on the world. Too much to show in color. I believe in you. Hey, I'm WITH you. We can do this. We ARE doing this.

Warriors don't get victory unscathed. Some scars are necessary to be remembered as powerful and legendary. Wear your scars. Keep fighting.

Grace n Peace,

A ~

From Swampland to Concrete

I lecture my kids...a lot.

It often begins with..."let me speak something into you that you need to know..." followed by eye rolls and "NO NO!! We get it!" They don't. But my hope is that eventually one day when they are in a college dorm room with a broken heart and it feels like the world has just ended...they will remember.

I've felt like that a lot this year myself.

I've had an epic year. Marriage, Nursing School, Pregnancy, Blended Family...it's been a lot.

A lot of awesomeness...a lot of work.

I've had those dorm room, heart broken moments this year. Not per se due to any one's fault...but because I'm living...breathing...and so is the rest of the world...and well...let's face it...crap happens.

I've begun to live out my own lectures. All the ones God deposited in me over the last 10-15 years. It's been stupendous, humbling, aggravating, perpetual work, and down right freeing.

I've learned it IS better to accept and wait and than be aggressive.
I've learned faith is only acquired through waiting.
I've learned I don't know everything and defensiveness will get you nowhere.
I've learned that standing is sometimes the strongest thing you can do.
I've learned that not everyone loves me like Jesus and my Jelton... and not everyone has my best interest as their motivation.
I've learned to let these people go and set boundaries with people that "despitefully use me."
I've grown a thicker skin that I hope is still porous enough to seep His light still while maintaining self protection.
I've learned true love.
I've learned that my defensiveness in correction lengthens the lesson.
I've learned to listen more...talk less.

In all this learning...the one true thing I've absolutely come to know...trust...chew on...claw to hang on to...is THIS:

JESUS AT THE CENTER OF IT ALL. No other foundation. Period.

I was reminded of this in my reading today...

"Don't you understand the foundation of all things?" Isaiah 40:21-24

One sentence. Summed up an entire lifetime.

He is the foundation of all things. Simple...yet exactly what I needed for the next leg of the journey.

You see...I falter. I question. I fear. I worry.

When I begin these steps, I step back into the place of knowing as quickly as I can...because I realize I've stepped off my foundation into the swamplands (shout out to my Cajun friends). I've looked down at the raging waters rather than looking straight ahead at Jesus and the shore behind him...Foundation.

I lost myself a bit last year. I was keeping a schedule for full time nursing school that was RIDICULOUS at best...husband working out of town...blending a family...working full time...then ended it with a 38 year old uterus getting pregnant...

I lost my way for a period.

I didn't do crack or cheat on my husband. I didn't beat my children senselessly. I didn't rush a baby gap with an oozy...but I lost my mental way. I lost my foundation. I stepped off the ledge. I allowed my mind to take me to places that were not solid. Not truth. Not my manifesto.

Then I failed nursing school by one percentage point.
Then my husband and family rallied me. Loved me. Reminded me who I was.
It was a dark few weeks.
I had to force my feet out of the swampland and back on to the concrete foundation of God.

In more simplistic terms....I had to steady myself in the Word. Speak to the thoughts. Rally.

And I did it again today. And yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that...you get the picture.

I'm human. I'm fragile. I'm in need of concrete in a swampland world.

I continue to learn this. I continue to cling to the concrete. I continue to find peace in acceptance and flee aggression. I continue to trust when it's the hardest part of being alive for me.

I continue to LOVE MY LIFE. Because this is all part of it...

Those lectures...they sustained me. Rallied me. Kept me. Returned me to Him and myself.

Returned me to the place of "knowing"...the place where you can see one thing with your eyes and another with your heart. The place of unshakeableness (I realize this is not a word)...the place where you slip, slide and sway but keep standing because you KNOW...you just know...

My prayer for all of us today is that we continue to flail, fail, and flourish. That we listen to the lectures and lean in....
May we be reminded we are solid. Foundation secure. Nothing can destroy us...only solidify, rectify, and remind us...

Grace n Peace,

A ~

I am NOT "THE CRAP".

This year has been gloriously rough. I went into this year thinking..."I am the crap." True story. Full disclosure: I've been through some really dumb not fair stuff but I've always survived. Maybe not the least psychotic when I did...but still survived and could post Facebook pics with a ginormous smile on my face to prove it. I am ONE COURAGEOUS BRAVE CONQUERING CHICK. Which allowed me to believe I had come to the crossroads of being a tiny bit superior and All-knowing. Boom.

I really truly believed all this about myself. Don't get me wrong I don't walk around town thinking to myself how incredibly awesome I am...it's more of a subliminal knowing that shows up in glances at the less knowing, thoughts of "bless your heart" to the less evolved, and "really? You didn't know that?" to the less educated. Yep. I admit it. You don't even know you're doing it until someone calls you out and even then you privately think "They know they are wrong and the poor dear now have to blame you for their insecurity and inadequacy." Don't look away you know you do it too.

My mom says I'm a "runner". When people get too much I like to cut my losses. (Nothing like all my awesome FB posts huh?) She's counseled me loads of times in the last 10 years about sticking power...about entitlement...about my bratiness...and when it gets where I can no longer deny it...I shake my head and say..."I know. I know."
I'm incredibly high minded with ridiculous aspirations...for everyone. It's exhausting quite frankly. Which takes us back to 2014...

I really breezed into this year full of thoughts that I was TOTALLY evolved....totally secure....totally surrendered to God with no idolatrous notions...I TOTALLY HAD THIS. Life would come and go...but my inner peace, fortitude, and Zen never would. Wrong. Oh. So. Wrong.
This year has JACKED ME UP. I've had to confront myself with the same freakin' lesson. Over and Over Again: People. Programs. Promises. Academics. Family. Friends. ARE NOT YOUR SAVIOR NOR ARE YOU THEIRS.

I am utterly and completely capable of failing. Big. Time. And by failing I mean the snot nose...roll around in Oreo crumbs with dirty hair failure. Sad part is the failure leads me further into the entitlement: "If THEY can pass that exam WHY THE CRAP DIDN'T I?" "I'm doing MORE than anyone in this family and NO ONE GETS IT."

Don't mistake...I am pretty humble...I'm a hippie at heart. I do regard everyone the same. BUT. Inwardly...I feel I have the upper hand. Some would say this is "self-esteem". I say it's suicide. Because "I am better and bigger than ____ (Insert your demon)" is really, truthfully "I am better and bigger than God and His sovereignty. My self-reliance is total idolatry that continues to kill me one unlearned failure at a time."  Which leads right back to the subliminal thought process: I am better, stronger, and have more to offer than others. Which is always rooted in SHAME, INSECURITY, AND DISPLACED WORTH.

Hence, why I continue to go right back to my feelings and reactions and allow them to determine my days rather than go back to the source of all there is and allow Him to guide my days.

I've mused on this lately (yes...I know...shocking that I muse) and I've determined this cycle leads to two major lessons that I continue to have to re-learn:

1. If I continue to rely on others and their approval, encouragement, and acceptance to determine my worth and the outcome of my day...I WILL BE FOREVER MISERABLE. If I only celebrate life when there are no fights over the budget with my husband, when my friends call to remind me how INCREDIBLY AWESOME I REALLY AM, or I make straight A's on all exams...I WILL NEVER. EVER. EVER Have a good week again. PLAIN AND SIMPLE. Because this...this is life. And I can't speak for yours but mine gets downright torturous sometimes with all the responsibility and chaos. But life also surprises me day in day out with snippets of divine loveliness that can only shine through cracked places...If I keep waiting to be happy because everyone in my world is...I will be waiting until His glorious return. No. Thank. You.

2. If I continue to "live in my feelings" I'm going to run, destroy, hide from, or shut off relationships, opportunities, experiences, and God ordained lessons. I've started a new mantra for myself. I say it multiple times a day: "Amanda: Your feelings lie to you. ESPECIALLY RIGHT NOW WITH YOUR LOAD. Don't listen to them. Listen to God and otherwise BE FREAKIN' STILL." I have already recited it three times today (Don't you feel so superior to me now? I'm here for ya babe). Because here's the reality: Whether my feelings are correct, fair, or not correct...dwelling in them and allowing them to control my mind and choices do nothing but paralyze my days and my life. Placing them in perspective and realizing that some things won't or can't change for whatever reason (I mean do you see exams going away in Nursing School? Or families never needing more money? Didn't think so.) allows me to table them, accomplish what needs to be accomplished, and sets myself and others free to dwell in the present and allow the situation to unfold. And furthermore...who do I think I am to think that what He has supplied is not enough? (OOH. That was good yawl. Shaba) 

What I mean by unfold is this: LET GOD BE IN CONTROL. When I dwell in my mind and try to solve everything...I take God out of my equation and place _____ (Insert person, place, thing, desire) in the place of God. Not cool. Not helpful. Incredibly self-destructive. I ought to know...I've taken this test at LEAST 50 times in the last 20 years and apparently I need to go back and study the material again.

Longest story ever short: If you started out thinking you're the crap only to realize you're not and "WHAT?" You're not alone. Don't look at all my FB posts and think I have achieved internal enlightenment, a divinely unique perfect marriage, two blissful cherubs that think I am the best mother ever, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, and a perfect dent less derriere....CAUSE I HAVEN'T. AT ALL. You're in good screwed up company. All we can keep doing is showing up. Telling our partners "You're right. I'm not better than you. I'm wrong." Studying harder when we overshot our intellectualism and failed the exam. Crawling back to God when we literally placed someone else on a pedestal in his place. Climbing into the word to reveal the stillness in the chaos. And pie. Lot's and lots of Key Lime Pie. It's the only way.

Grace n Peace,

A ~

Be a wildflower...

“If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you?" Matthew 6:30-33

I've read this passage many many times. One of my favorites...something new always speaks to me.

Today's was a doozy.

"-most of which are never seen."

I remember being 24, married into an religiously influential family, and crafting myself to be "one of them". It was all out of good intention. I wanted to know God. I wanted what they seemed to have. I emulated, changed, stretched, but most of all...desired to be seen. Noticed. Given my share.

Looking back, I see how hard I strived. How hard I wrestled with who I really was with who I thought I needed to be. No one asked it of me. I asked it of myself because I was caught in the trap of desiring identity.

Fast forward 14 years, two divorces later, many good good times, many bad bad times...I get it. Those accolades I desired did come...but they came within my home. In the form of handwritten notes scratched out on construction paper from little girls who lived in the trenches with me. They came in the guise of text messages from my Daddy and Momma randomly saying "You rock. We get you. We're proud." They came in the guise of other women who contacted me in secret saying "I'm lost. I don't know where to step. How did you do it?"

I found these words and gestures kind, uplifting, generous even...but I did not allow them to give me identity (except for those construction paper ones...) I found my identity in the moments where it was silent. Just me. Just Him. There were no cheerleaders. There were no "good jobs". These moments where I sat...being still...and being flooded with "you are loved, you are loved, here is your identity."

Identity handed to me in the form of nail scarred hands, difficulties, sunlit days, dark nights, calm in the midst of storms, power in the midst of weakness, joy in the midst of mourning, love in the midst of aloneness.

I couldn't ask for a greater identity.

This is what Jesus was saying in this passage. We fret and worry and try to create ourselves into great people with great things to say...all the while...the Kingdom of God says "What makes you who are is like the wildflower...beautiful...wild...free to grow anywhere under any conditions...WHERE NO ONE MIGHT INHABIT OR NOTICE YOU. Yet you are beautiful."

The greatness of this identity is this: No matter where I am. No matter what field I'm growing in. No matter if it's in the midst of the most beautiful place where others walk by and say "Look at that! How gorgeous is that one?" or in the field that no one even knows exists...I'm still serving a purpose. I'm still at peace. Loved. Cherished. FULL.

I can't describe it until you find it...and you will.

When you do...don't sell it out for the other side. Stick with the field you meant to bloom in. Whether or not you ever hear a word about the beautiful flower you are...stay present where you're placed and enjoy the sunshine. It's an infinitely better life than the one you've been chasing. I promise you.

Grace n Peace,

A ~

I am a failure. But I am enough.

I look in the mirror at the woman staring back at me. Dark purple lines under her eyes from days of sleepless nights. Wrinkled brow. All I see in her eyes is fear.

I stop. I take a good look straight into those eyes...making myself face myself. Then breathe. I begin to brush my teeth and go over the answers to the exam in my head. Again.

I had failed. Twice. On an exam that requires 90% within 3 tries or I fail out of RN school. I was devastated. Frustrated. Humbled.

Today was the third try.  I told no one.

I pull my scrubs on, run fingers through my hair and prepare to walk out the door into the sunshine and unknown.

My husband meets me at the door and looks straight into my eyes. Same eyes that I had just gazed into...I knew what they held. He didn't say a word...just held me in that gaze and communicated "you are enough" with his eyes.

These same eyes he had looked upon me with a week earlier as he pulled my chin up dripping with tears and shaking head...words tumbling out "I don't fail. I can't do this. I can't fail." and pulled my eyes to his gaze and said "Whatever happens, we'll be ok. You are not failing anyone."

I had looked away as he held my face in his hands. Ashamed. Lost in the failure of the moment.

But he had not looked away. He held my gaze. Made me see myself as he saw me. Enough.

Fast forward back to today...I held his gaze, walked out the door and drove towards my future. I had prepared. I knew the material. I also had been up all night with beating chest...skin on fire like I was coming unglued...and shaking. Anxious. Fearful. Exhausted.

As I began to drive I rehearsed what I knew...but this time about who I am. What I have. Who made me. And as it had happened each day prior to this day for the last week, a calm settled over me...a knowing...you are enough. Should you fail...you are enough. Should you pass...you are enough. Should you go home today empty handed...you are enough.
I leaned into it and began to unwind. Hands that had shaken for 24 hours...stilled. Heart that had raced for days...beat rhythmically...smoothly. Mind that had raced since the last failing...slowed...became clear.

I began to sing within my mind...It is well...It is well in my soul.

As I pull into the parking lot my phone dings and it's my husband..."Stay calm during the test. No matter what happens we'll be ok."

I knew it would be.

I passed. 94%.

I was surprised when I walked out that I didn't feel more overwhelmed with hyperactivity as I normally do during these situations...when it hit me...you already knew the outcome. You knew you were enough. You knew you were in good hands.

I stepped into my car and sat...whispering thanks to my best friend..."you really held me today God. Your peace really does pass my understanding." I thought back to the eyes I had stared into earlier that morning...mine first...then the eyes of my partner...one saying you are not enough...the other saying you are MORE than enough...and it came to me in that sunlit car...

This was a perfect representation of grace...of the Gospel. We look at ourselves and all we cannot do. All we cannot seem to be. All we cannot force to happen. Then He pulls our chins up dripping with tears and failure...eyes veering to the side ashamed to look into His...and He says...you are enough. Failing. Falling. Gaining. Losing. You are enough. My grace is sufficient for you.

Very simple thought I know. But I needed to write it so when I begin to veer my eyes to the left again and believe the purple lines instead of His gaze...I will be reminded of this day. It is well because He makes me enough.

I'm livin' in the wasteland...

"Wasteland"

by NeedToBreathe

 

I am the first one in line to die
When the cavalry comes
Yeah it feels like the great divide
has already come
Yeah im wastin' my way through days
losing youth along the way

 

Oh if God, is on my side
Oh if God, is on my side
Oh if God, is on my side
Who could be against me?

 

There was a greatness I felt for a while
But somehow it changed
Some kind of blindness I used to protect me
From all of my stains
Yeah I wish this was vertigo
It just feels like I'm fallin' slow

 Oh if God, is on my side
Then who can be against me?

 

Yeah in this wasteland
Where I'm livin'
There is a crack in the door filled with light
And it's all that
I need to get by

Yeah in this wasteland
Where I'm livin'
There is a crack in the door filled with light
And it's all that
I need to shine

 

All of these people I meet
It seems like they're fine
Yeah in some ways I hope that they're not
And their hearts are like mine
Yeah its wrong when it seems like work
To belong, All I feel is hurt

 

Oh if God, is on my side
Yeah if God, is on my side
Oh if God, is on my side
Who could be against me?

 

 

I. LOVE. THIS. SONG.

 

I cannot begin to say how much I connect with the lyrics. I've always loved NEEDTOBREATHE. But when I turned this on last week I instantly felt at home. I know reading the lyrics one might feel depressed...hopeless in a fog...but for me, it's actually quite the opposite.

 

You see...I'm living in the wasteland.

 

It's a weird, dry, dusty place this wasteland. It's fraught with frailty, pain, blisters, vulnerability, weakness, and really bad character. But on the other side it's wrapped in joy, fulfillment, authenticity, realization, and love. It's strange, exhausting, and liberating.

 

Walking through the wasteland is stripping me of my pedestal, my "I'm not one of you", my strength, my judgements, my borders, my filter...and swapping those with what I thought I was not capable of... (good and bad) for what I am indeed capable of...

 

I've find this period of my life to be the most physically challenging of all seasons within my life.

 

I'm toast. Which means I'm filter less. Raw. Unable to hold back the darkness within my own heart or the light that shows through the cracks. It's unnerving. Because when you're stripped bare, you can't fake. You can't wrap your cardigan tighter and make others believe you're still warm and cozy...because you are so obviously standing there shivering...appalled at your own nakedness but there's not a stitch of clothing in sight...so you remain...for all to see...including yourself...and it's unnerving...

 

I've come to the realization in the last 4 months that I am capable. Capable of many things. Good. Bad. In between. But the most revealing...I'm capable of being JUST LIKE everyone else. Those I've judged. Those I've admired. Those I've scorned in years gone by. Those I've wanted to emulate. Those I thought I was above...It's by far the most confusing place I've walked. And yet...it is confirmation of the soul.

 

The wrong choices. The right choices. The skint knees. The beautiful sprint. The love. The brutality. The failure. The endurance. They all confirm what I truly never really grasped about myself: I AM HUMAN. I AM FLESH AND BONE. And flesh and bone is a messy, scary, glorious, no road map thing to be.

 

For as long as I can remember I've rallied under the belief that I am STRONG. Impenetrable. And to be transparent...a level above the norm. How infinitely funny that seems now and ridiculously Pharisee - ical. I never believed I was capable of scraping bottom and top at the same time. Living in glorious bliss while making daily mundane choices that I looked at others and thought to be "less than." Boy was I ever so wrong. I'm human. SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS!!! IIIIIIII AAAAMMMMMM HUMMMMANNNNN!!!!!

 

When you are living raw and devoid of rest...you enter a place where you cannot hide. You cry more. You cuss more. You appreciate the kindness of those who love you more. You appreciate others in the bull pen with you that are making the same mistakes and victories because it teaches you what you never really knew...YOU. ARE. CAPABLE.

 

Capable of love and lust. Capable of generosity and stinginess. Capable of holiness and paganism. Capable of joy and angst. Capable of feast and famine. Capable of sainthood and sin. It is a dichotomy at it's best; Capability.

 

You find yourself living on scraps of God and realizing that for now it's enough. You swim out too far then you swim back to the shore. You become glutinous on pleasures swelling with idolatry then you begin running the long marathon of the spiritual soul again...gasping for air because you are SO FREAKIN' TIRED...yet something within you screams one more mile...one more stride...

 

Interestingly enough, this place is not a bad one..It's a revelatory one. When I can no longer tell myself that I am not any different from those I've judged, avoided, turned away from, or clung too...I am free to love. Free to accept. Free to realize that we are ALL IN THIS TOGETHER. One screwed up, floundering school of humanity, that day in, day out will need a Savior.

 

We're swimming some days in shallow pools, others in deep oceans. Treading water sometimes, back stroking the next. We fall below the surface and see God's glorious beauty some days, then others sink to the bottom of murky waters where we cannot see our hand in front of our face. This. This is life.

 

This is what Glennon Doyle refers to as the "Brutiful" life. Life is a big ol' beautiful, brutal mess. And the quicker we realize there are no "classes" of humanity...that we are all capable of the exact same sins and sophistications...we become one. It's the only way.

 

Every day I get up I am happy. And downright sick of living this way. I am in love with my life. And I hate many moments of it. Dichotomy. We will ALWAYS live in the in between and anyone that tells you differently is a complete, bold, face liar.

 

But I'm finding it is the living in between that takes away our toys and trophies and hands us our trajectories...our God spoken trajectories...again...it is the only way...

 

If we are to be authentic and dependent...We have to live capable. Plain and simple.

 

Capable of mayhem and majesty. Capable of greatness and guile. Capable of beauty and brutality.

 

Capable.

 

Grace n Peace,

 

A ~

 

 

 

 

Careless in the care of God...

 

I dreamed all night. Crazy dreams. Dreams that worried. Not real worries. Fake crazy worries. I know when I begin to do this that there are several components going on in my life story:

1. I am not rested. If I am dreaming and waking continuously all night it signals to me I'm not at peace and I'm subconsciously worried.
2. I'm not in Shalom. Shalom envelopes and encourages. Worry denigrates and denounces joy. Vastly different.
3. I'm crazy. There I said it. I'm just plain cray as the day is long.

All the above are true and no matter how I lie in bed ruminating and trying to evaluate the outliers...I will never figure it all out nor write the story. I'm not God. But I really, REALLY want to be.

Funny thing is...I don't worry and get anxious always over what we term "the big stuff"...I worry about totally inconsequential ridiculosity...Examples:

1. My butt is dropping. OMG MY BUTT IS DROPPING. I'm in class 8 hours a day and I'm losing my awesome butt. How is it I'm not running 5 miles a day. I don't care that I have 40 hours of school a week and 40 hours of work a week and a husband (who I want to like my butt) and kids and spiritual life...I have to be perfect. I have to keep up my body else I will be less than...(as she jumps out of bed to start squats)
2. I don't know my children. OMG I DON'T KNOW MY CHILDREN...THEY WILL TURN INTO DRUG ADDICTS OR WORSE...MOTHER HATERS!!! I am teaching them perseverance and dream chasing but what they really need is for me to sit down and watch frozen with them completely unplugged with homemade cookies and hormone free milk. In fresh smelling of Gain fabric softner washed pajamas.
3. I am failing at everything spiritual. I cussed. I thought really bad thoughts towards people I wanted to punch in the throat. I wanted to run. Far far away. OMG I WANTED TO WATCH MOVIES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY AND EAT COTTON CANDY!!! I have hit rock bottom!!!
4. I am the worst friend ever. OMG WHEN DID I LAST TALK TO MY FRIEND? What day is this? Do I have clean scrubs for tomorrow? I will have no friends by the time this year is over because I will have only talked to nursing students and patients!!!
5. I am a TERRIBLE TERRIBLE LAUNDRY KEEPER UPPER AND I HAVE NO ORGANIZATIONAL HOME SKILLS. OMG!!! MY SILVERWARE ARE NOT ORGANIZED IN ONE OF THOSE ORGANIZERS MADE FOR THE SILVERWARE DRAWER!!! The sky is definitely falling!!!!!

See...I'm crazy. The list goes on and on but I cannot continuing sharing else you call Adult and child protective services for the sake of me and my family. Yet...in all the crazy...I'm finding something...

I'm turning inward. Not outward anymore.

A few years ago when these moments of self doubt and angst would begin, I would call my best...depend on them to reassure me that I was not failing...that I was not going over the edge. Now...I find I can sit with it all. I can say to myself..."You are having a crazy moment and none of this is legit. Nor is it real." Then the wonderful, meant to be thing happens...

I start talking to God.

I literally say to Him "Ok...this is SO dumb. But I'm worried about my butt dropping. I'm worried I don't have a silverware organizer. I'm worried of how I'm going to make this schedule work. I'm worried that my children don't know me this year. And God I know people are starving and poor and naked...but in my idolatrous self absorption...I'm feasting on these thoughts."

And I find...I no longer need to lean on someone else for reprieve from the nastiness that is my rumination crazy side. I find I'm leaning into the one who gives "attention to the appearance of wildflowers" and it's exactly what the purpose of all this is. HIM. ME. DEPENDENCE.

I must admit as I lean...the thoughts don't always go away. But, I also am realizing that's the process. The trite "journey". If I ever get to wear I'm no longer human and crazyfied...I fear I would plan, assess, conduct, organize, and unthink Jesus right on out of my life. Because I'm selfish. I'm self absorbed. I'm idolatrous. I would leave Him in my dust and keep on truckin'.

But with these thorns...no matter how scattered and ridiculous they may seem...I remain in need of a Savior. I need to be saved from my crazy. I need to be saved from myself. I need to be saved from societal expectations. I need daily deliverance.

And He brings it...right up to my breakfast, lunch, and dinner table. He sits with me and says again and again "Give your entire attention to me right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. I will help you deal with whatever hard things come up WHEN THE TIME COMES." (Paraphrased Mt. 6:34)

The word "worry" comes from an old English term wyrgan which means "to choke or strangle". (Anxious for Nothing by John MacArthrur Jr.) How appropriate. When I'm ruminating and studying all the outliers of my life, as redundant as this is, I strangle the absolute crap out of my "here and now" life. I realize I've spent the last four hours solving issues that have not and probably will not ever happen when I could have been fully present with my beautiful family. Enough Said.

Dependent. I am dependent upon a Savior. Today. Hopefully tomorrow. Dependent. Anti climatic I know. It would be so much more exciting and fun to say I'd found the perfect pill that makes it all shiny not whiney and hypnotism really does work...but alas...it's the age old truth I go back to...surrendering my independence for total dependence. Therein lies Shalom.

Grace n Peace,

A ~

Conscious thought sharing and other musings during lecture...WHOOPS!

I've been doing my devotionals in class. During lecture. Which means: I'm not listening during lecture but I am trying to listen to God and my spirit. So...I guess that works.

In my readings and listening, I've been hearing a whisper...not a shout...just a gentle tapping on my soul's door to come back...to come back to a place of delight and delicious encounter...

I read about uttering thoughts throughout the day and whispering feelings as they come...I read about men and women I have been raised to behold in the scriptures as stoic, heroic perfect imitators of the faith and realize that they were utter failures at times in their lives as well...running from the author of their stories and foundations just like I do at times...and it comforts me...

I find I fail in being conscious...miserably...I over engage in getting it all done and under engage in submitting my heart to the story writer...or...I don't engage... and in fact merely survive...and survive only miserably...

Today I stepped back (in lecture) and started to reel in my heart (or at least try)...when I had a thought that felt big...or delicious...grand...or small...I tried really really hard to stop and share it with my story writer...it felt really really good.

Because here's the deal...God is going to write my story. With. Or without my involvement. So...I'd really like to be involved. It's so much more fun that way. I mean...who wants to hang out with their partner who never speaks to them? Who never reaches out to touch them? Who never even looks their way? NOT ME said the redhead. When that Cajun holds me and tells me what I mean to him...my whole world lights up like a frickin' July 4th in the south. How much more does God light up when we're lovin' on Him and sharing our days? Which...ultimately sharing our days are sharing our hearts. Epic.

So...tomorrow I'm gonna get after it and get too busy and screw up some more and really really focus again on sharing my story with the author...He's got such good hook lines...I don't wanna miss a thing...

Grace n Peace Yawl...

A ~

I got nothin' yawl.

As I type this my daughter is dancing around my room in just her underwear with a monkey doll dressed in full garb including glasses, singing at the top of her lungs...I'm pretty sure I haven't peed all night alone and I might be losing my mind...
Such is life right?
I've been itching to write lately...it starts out as an itch then turns into a full blown rash that should I not scratch it I go insane...
But I ain't got nothin'.
I'm not loving life today. My husband is 500 miles away. My children....God love them...require raising...
Sleep? Doesn't that sound lovely with 5 am clinical risings...
My job is so stupid I want to scream...
I'm pretty sure I've had no real nutrition in weeks...and by God I want one day of unadulterated nothingness..

I want to feel deeply sorry for myself...It just feels SO right...Heck...I'm earning it during this season...

So I run and get taco bell for the children...run inside slam the bathroom door...run the water...climb in...ignore all calls...and cry...that ugly cry where you lay your head on the side of the tub and feel so sorry for yourself because you're life is so hard and you're so tired and NO ONE..not even those starving children in Africa are as crazed and spent as you...

Then I remember the line in my reading today..."Self-pity is a form of Self Righteousness..." Ugh. Blah. Shut. Up. Jesus. Yeah I said it. He knows I thought it...LET ME WALLOW.

I sit up straighter in the tub and try to cry some more but realize that I can't...because should I...I'm not giving my life away...I'm not surrendering fully to Him...I just can't do that...I can't NOT claw my way back to Him...

Bethel begins to sing..."...cause you are just a breath away" and I realize all over again...He really is.

I admit. Right now it's only a realization. I don't "FEEL" it...but I "KNOW" it...that's enough tonight...

I re-commit to be cool. To be grateful. And to stop and listen to LaLa through the wall talking and singing in a British accent at the top of her lungs...

Then I hug Syd and call my husband...

It ain't all bad yawl ;-)

Chill the crap out!

I take myself too seriously sometimes...
And by take myself too seriously I mean overanalyze things until they are beat to a bloody pulp in my head begging to be set free...to anywhere...other than my head...
When I get too busy or over run with duty, I forget to laugh at myself.
I forget to not be so serious about life.
I forget that it's all going to be ok. Because it is.

I sat on the stoop last night in the dark...just listening to the sounds...and He whispered..."It's going to be ok. I have you." I smiled.

I stepped inside and took nothing else seriously for the rest of the evening. It felt good.

I got up this am. Rushed. Attended to duty. Took an exam. Scored 10 points higher on this one than the last. Coincidence? I think not.

I am a free spirit. I thrive on open spaces, trees, family, Jesus, and loads of books. I don't thrive on stress, anxiety, or rule keeping. Which is why this year is throwing me off kilter. I've hated who it's made me this year. All drudgery and no laughs. All work and no play. God didn't create us for that. He didn't create for life.

He created for ABUNDANT life. Which is how I've always chosen to live mine. I chose again last night.

Stepping back into myself. Into His plan of action for me...it includes drudgery and work...but it also includes laughter...pickles...green grass...love...grace...fingernail polish...new things...cherished old things...family...music...joy...and Him...

It's a good life. A beautiful irony. And I wouldn't trade a second for anything...

Because I know this...whatever comes...I'll be ok.

Gotta run...a belly laugh is callin' my name...

Grace n Peace,

A ~

Musings of a Mediocre Mother, Student, Friend, Partner, Follower, Daughter, Sister...

Have I really not written since October? Seems about right. I find myself drifting and running about day after day stuck in the twilight zone of life. It's been quite unnerving, a bit freeing, and alot hard. I said to my guy the other day "I'm doing 17 things and none of them well."
I won't go into the boring details of my overscheduled, hurried life. But trust me when I say it's too much. Way too much. But it's neccessary. Dreams require too much sometimes. Goals require work boots...with mud on them...to your knee caps...while you're freezing cold...and hungry...and looking for a way out to go play at the park with your friends...I digress...
Since beginning my RN program in January while working full time...I have...forgotten to pay bills...dropped kids off with a cookie for breakfast...overslept and had to wear my hair wet day after day...renigged on my vegan fare more than once...not taken a single vitamin...missed appts for my children...forgotten things...remembered them later...don't much worse in school than I thought I would...I could go on for days...
It's been really, really hard.
I've wanted to quit.
I haven't.
But I've come close.
I feel like a almost failure many days. I feel like I should be more intelligent. I feel like I should make better grades. I feel like I should have it more together. But it's always "almost" failure...
Because here's what I'm learning in this season...there never really is failure. There's the realm of "I'm almost failing..." but never really failure because this is all a comprehensive journey. Every part...every road...every upset and triumph is building the story. Which means there is no failure. Which brings me to the "almost failure" part...
For me, "almost failure" is losing myself in the process. Which in this year is a little bit neccessary, but I choose how to react to it. If I "almost fail" it will be because I live out every hard day this year focused on what I'm giving up and the tasks that overwhelm rather than the gorgeous family I have...rather than the majesty created all around me...rather than the laughter...that's "almost failure". I'm making peace with the fact that I am indeed mediocre in all I am involved in right now. It is what it is. I just don't have any extra hours or hands to be anything more. This is ok. Because this is part of my story. My narrative that one day will bring me to another place where I'll have to be even stronger. Where I'll have to make peace that I con't have to be "more". Where I'm ok being a frail human being. (This is extremely hard for me) Fraility is not my most desirous place to abide. But I find as I abide here...I become more human. First in really awful ways that show me not to judge others for the same flaws...and second in really good ways that press me to accept my fraility and lean into a God and a family that love me just the same. This is good.
"Almost failing" is pushing me. I hate it. I love it. But most of all...I'm accepting it.
Frail on friends...Frail on...

Grace n Peace,

A

PS I realize there are spelling errors in here but my dumb program isn't letting me correct...#acceptance #almostfailingwithspelling

Packin' Courage, Beatin' Giants, and High Fivin'

"Giants are not as strong as they seem and sometimes the shepherd boy has a sling in his pocket." Malcolm Gladwell

Confession: I sit in my car, in my driveway, and listen to sermons and Ted Talks. It's a way of isolation from my ADD self.

This morning I dropped the beloveds off at school and cued up Malcolm Gladwell's Ted Talk on his new book "David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants." (How can you NOT want to read this book with a title like that?)

I was captivated.

Malcolm beautifully expounds on research into the age old Biblical story of David and Goliath with facts and theories that I never pictured nor imagined. He presents us with this thought: Perhaps we've interpreted this story incorrectly. By viewing David as an underdog and Goliath as a victor, maybe, just maybe we've had it all wrong. What if Goliath was impaired and David had the advantage? What if Goliath just LOOKED looming and horrifying? What if David truly had the upper hand with one single stone and sling?

You guys know I love it.

I am forever in favor of the underdog. The yearling. The kid in the corner of the playground. Just last night I lay into the wee hours considering my career path, "Do I really want to go into Oncology? Is there a clinic that I can specialize in AIDS work? I really want to touch people no one wants to touch." Thus I loved the presentation that Giants are not really as strong as we believe them to be and furthermore us little peons fighting with a stick and a sling have more going for us than a dream and a suicidal courageousness.

Obviously, God had David. He ordained the steps of this shepherd boy to fight and win. He walked him straight into a war zone, equipped him with hardly anything, then showed He was still God by allowing him to kill the bully. But what else was God imparting? What did he really want all of us underdogs to learn?

I believe it was this nugget:

We are NOT AS WEAK AS WE BELIEVE OURSELVES TO BE.

Through the preacher Malcolm Gladwell this morning :-), I realized God was showing that we are far more equipped than we give ourselves and Him credit for.

Fighting the giants in our lives can seem daunting (shout out to Christine Caine's book "Undaunted") like an uphill trek against Machu Picchu with no acclimation and no beef jerky. But in reality this is not so. As I delve deeper and deeper into aging (what choice do I have) and vulnerability practice, I find that daring greatly and being a wholehearted person are difficult, embarrassing to my pride, and downright terrifying but not something that I stand totally unequipped for.

Here's the deal: All of us have a slingshot in our pocket. We just don't take it out against the giants. Due to fear, embarrassment about going against cultural norm, or just plain apathy, we sit on the sidelines playing with our harps (shout out to David) and refuse to fight for our own lives. Shame on us.

Don't get me wrong, Giant fighting is about as fun as a root canal sans the gas. Some days it seems like running a marathon with not one day of training. Battling for what you want and victory is fierce, lonely at times, exhausting, and requires oodles and oodles of fortitude and staying power. But when the day comes that you leave the corner of the playground, walk up that hill, and pull out what you've got (aka your slingshot), take aim and fire at your giant...you realize you aren't as big of an underdog as you thought you were.

Because you just knocked that bully to the ground. With hardly any weaponry except that big ol' pack of courage and trust on your back.

Once you've fought and won...you want to do it again. You want to dwell in the arena of courageous living. The corner of the playground no longer holds a spot for you. You've outgrown that space.

Here's what I propose: Today we all gear up together and begin to walk out of the corner. Put on our courage packs, talk to our battle trainer while he sticks our slingshot in our pocket, and begin walking. It might take us a little while to acclimate to the higher altitudes that living wholeheartedly requires, but we'll be moving. Together. Once we get to the top, we'll all yell, hoot and holler for one another as we pull out our slingshots and knock our giants to the ground. Then collectively, we'll run over and take a look at what we've been afraid of for so long and realize: He was so much less intelligent, capable, and menacing that we dreamed him to be.

Then we'll all high five, pick up our stones, and start the next trek. Together. As a group of misfit underdogs determined to win.

Grace and Peace Fighters,

A ~

What I've learned after not really dating for 3 years...

Yesterday I found myself drifting off mentally in Microbiology and the thought struck me "October will mark 3 years since your second divorce. You have officially not dated in 3 years." I'm not sure why that struck me so monumental at the time but it really did. I sat with it on the 30 minute ride home and thought over the last three years. Where I am. What I've learned. Where I'm headed.

I met my first husband at my 15th birthday party and have no shame in saying He was the love of my life. I fell madly for him and we dated off and on till I married him at 22. I adored him. We got each other. Unfortunately, He carries deep wounds and brokenness that he could not overcome during our union and I decided it best that I raise the girls solo in 2006. We were married 8 years and together 15. I love him still in a platonic, compassionate way. Healing is a beautiful thing.

Stayed solo till 2008.

I met my second husband through our mutual best friends and thought he would be my prince charming. Little did I know, that no one can be prince charming. We all have brokenness, body odor, and flaws. I quickly realized during our 18 month union that we weren't invested on the same levels and sought counsel from multiple sources. Turning point came and again I was solo.

We divorced October 2010.

I'm giving you the clean adult rated versions. Two sides. No one wins.

I decided when the second divorce occurred that it was a wake up call to be alone for a while, chill out and find other avenues of fun, fulfillment, and joy. I also decided to uproot my whole life, move from Dallas and a life I loved, to Arkansas to start over pursuing a new career. When I left Dallas, I was casually dating 3 men and couldn't care less about it. Revelation: I was no more fulfilled with 3 attachments than with none.

January came and I moved to Arkansas. With the exception of a few minor dalliance' here and there, I've not dated. I've not pursued invites. I've warded off friend hook ups.

3 years.

What have I learned and where am I at in a culture that stresses relationships, sex, and codependency?

1. I'm OK. I was mortified when the second divorce took place. All my bets were on that one and when it imploded no one was more shocked and disoriented than myself. I was filled with a huge sense of shame. I was raised and truly believe in one man one woman for a lifetime. One divorce was a blow, two was death. But what I realized throughout the last three years is that everything I ever feared on a grand scale happened to me. And I'm alive. I'm great. I'm solid. My faith is stronger than ever. I'm a fighter. I'm a survivor. I'm loved. Sometimes looking our greatest fears square in the eye and being required to live through them sets us free. When you have nothing left, there is no anxiety over what might destroy you. I'm OK.

2. God really is enough. I don't hesitate to say I lost myself in both marriages. I sacrificed my health, my sanity, and my own opinions to codependency and a desire to have a "family". It didn't work. In the effort to be the perfect wife, I became a wreck. I lost touch with my goals and became a stepford wife the second time. It was awful and lonely. I've learned that the only way to be truly non-codependent is to be completely God-dependent. I wake up in the morning and my first thought is "Get to the couch and dive in." (It's my devotion spot) When things go haywire, I don't think anymore who can I call for support. I call God. In this process, I've learned that I can live in the woods raising two little women alone and be completely fulfilled and not lonely. Family is not defined by one woman, one man, and 2.5 kids. It's defined by love, peace, and contentment. It's completely weird and people don't get it but it's true. Not to say I don't have moments, but in general terms, He fills me. I have no needs.

3. You really can live without sex and not crumble up and die. I love sex as much as the next person. Believe me. However, I made a commitment to myself that sex would not impede my judgement to stay out of bad relationships. I really believe not having sex before marriage is the way to go. I think it honors God and myself. It really is quite horrible though. All these people around you asking "HOW DO YOU GO WITHOUT SEX?" Every movie, TV show, book throwing you curve balls about the joys of sex every other second. It's rough. But you know what is more rough? Lying in bed next to someone that you've just given your body (and in my opinion soul) over to and feeling like the loneliest person in the world. Not cool. Devastating. Remembering how that felt strengthens my resolve. I'd rather be sexless than feel worthless and used.

4. Life is not "less than" because you do not have a romantic partner. Dude...the world is so awesome. There are some incredibly amazing people out there just dying to hang out with you. Dying to share their stories and their time with you. YOU DON'T HAVE TO HAVE A PARTNER TO ENJOY YOUR LIFE TO THE FULLEST.  I am so fulfilled and loved by my friendships and non-romantic relationships. Love does not have to be romantic. Love comes in many forms. It is truly possible to live feeling completely accepted and loved while LIVING alone. It's also truly possible to live with a partner, sitting on the couch with them at night, and FEEL completely alone. I know. I've done both.

5. It is entirely possible to live life on your own terms. When I began this journey, I had much work to do in regards to relegating my "coolness factor" to my situation. I struggled with feeling "less cool" "less hip" because I didn't hang out with single hot men and I hung out in my house reading like a fean and studying. But guess what happened? I became a nurse. My vocabulary and knowledge increased. My worth felt secured. My children blossomed from routine and home life. I finally have come around to the fact that what culture dictates as necessary for "coolness" doesn't apply to me. I call my own shots and listen to the voice of God for the next step. That's pretty dang cool in my opinion. I don't need anyone else to validate me anymore. My decisions and what they have led me into speak for themselves.

6. This season doesn't mean I'll never fall in love again. I'm not a man hater by any means. I know a lot of really incredible ones. They love their wives and children in ways that astound me and make me love them even more. I just haven't partnered with one of these types yet. ;-) Emerson said this "We must be our own before we can be another's." I'm not sure until now that I ever truly belonged to myself. This legality most assuredly hindered my choices. I was looking for completion. Acceptance. Validation. What I didn't realize is no one can fill those areas but God and me. Now that I'm recovering from those areas and belong to myself, I'm not going to shut the door that I won't ever date again. I'm also not going to shut the door that I indeed might be alone for quite a while. You just never know. But here's what I do know: Either way, I'll be great.

Grace n Peace,

A ~

Believing Over Feelings and other Un-Fun Stuff do to in a Desert

Isaiah 49:15-18

I love vocabulary. Words thrill me. Good vocabulary is to me what fine wine is to others. I love reading books that require me to utilize a dictionary. (or Google)

I guess it stands to reason that as I journey through dark nights of the soul I find solace in words. Not just words from mere mortals as myself but divine words...words that tell me "If He loved them enough to do that...then maybe I can be next..."

Words that say "I breathed life into those dry bones...I can certainly breathe into yours..."

Humanity has also deposited into my weary wanderings. I read a quote by blogger and soon to be author Preston Yancey (I'll probably misquote, sorry Preston) that basically said "Books reminded me of God when I couldn't feel Him."Amen.

Maybe I'm the only one tired.

Maybe I'm the only dying for more than what I'm in currently but know that I have a while longer to sojourn in this place.

Maybe I'm the only one bored at times and completely overwhelmed at others.

Maybe I'm the only one walking through a dry dustbowl of a season.

And maybe I'm not. Maybe you're out there. Maybe you're reading and are also choosing believing over feeling.

I just thought you might want to know: You're not alone.

I'm reading too.

I'm believing instead of feeling too.

I'm breathing through a hankerchief in the driest freakin desert ever. But I'm also encouraged.

Because as I read the words of the prophets and God...and I read Christine Caine, Tullian Tchividjian, and countless others...I realize I'm not alone.

Everyone travels through their own crappy sandstorm...

And at some point...you see something that looks like a mirage in the distance...only to find you've crossed over into refreshment and beauty...

Hang on friends...the pool is coming...I don't feel the waters yet...but I believe I see them just over that sand dune...

Grace n Peace,

A ~

I'm about to dance the Behayseus out of life...

It's a farce really...this whole "stay in the moment and it won't pass you by" movement.

It's passed and is passing me by.

The girl. The big one. She's just that: Big.

I'm frightened by it. Reminded that my time is running out. I actually shuddered about it today.

Shuddered.

When I breathed her in after picking up a bigger, more self attuned, more *shudder mature girl at camp...I shuddered.

She didn't see and I didn't breathe a word because kids are like dogs don't you know...they smell anxiety and fear...so I kept sipping my Starbucks really coolly...

But. I shuddered.

I looked at the long limbs sprawled sleeping in the passenger seat and I swear if she would have asked for an albino west Parisian Rhino I would have moved Heaven and Europe to get it for her.

I find aging to be enthralling. Liberating. Exciting. Scary as hell.

Because as my children grow...I'm faced with the age old adage that I'm indeed growing with them. I'm faced with the indisputable fact that while I am quite the worker towards goals, it is only true and fair that I recognize there will be some that I'll never have the time to meet.

For a go getter...that's scary.

I have a petulant persistent fear that my very best of comrades know about: I'm afraid of ending up in a boring, sameness life.

Aging into the crazy cat lady that never reaches other lands and never holds hands and never looks upon anything other than her yard and library books.

However, It struck me today that I'll probably be so dang busy living that I'll look up and be on my way to Jesus before I figure out my life is over.

I certainly hope so.

I stay reminded that life is what we make it. Life is what we focus on.

Life is finitely impossible to predict, plan or make promises to...We must follow it's lead but certainly are invited to dance along.

Waltzing away, as Mary Oliver so eloquently puts it, "A bride married to amazement"...

Realizing we're never quite in control...but we're also never alone. That's the beauty of the dance.

Forever intertwined, we waltz with our finiteness...with our fallibility...with our eternal selves...

This. This is what makes the waltz of life so incredibly appealing. If the music never died would we appreciate it? If the leader never threatened to end the dance and choose another partner, would we realize how wonderful the steps He floats and dips us through truly are?

I think not.

I choose to believe it's the beautiful slow let down of life that makes it most beautiful. The knowing that we're all headed for a supreme destination and our bodies will all ultimately forsake us.

(Even the really toned, tanned ones. I digress.)

Because it's in the moments where I feel a tug of nostalgia, that I am reminded to savor the moments of life. To listen a little closer to my Daddy's words...to hug my mom before I leave...to call my brother back and listen to his laugh...to cry in sweet communion with my best friend over depths shared while 5 children come undone behind us...to remember her in THIS moment at THIS height and THIS gangly age...

THESE moments...THESE snapshots will be the encapsulation of my existence on this planet...THIS is what I will have fought for...worked for...dreamed after...and I want to remember...I want it to be worth it...I want it all to have mattered...if only to me and one long limbed growing girl and her beautiful dirty sidekick of a sis...

That could never be boring and sameness. Boom. Take that life.

 

Grace n Peace,

A ~

lest you think my life is all sunshine...

I am writing this strictly because I want you mama's...ladies...women...to know you're not alone. Those of you that converse with me and talk about how positive I am...I wanted you to know...

I fell the last two weeks.

Bad.

I lost my shine. I lost my way. I fell.

I fell into a big black hole.

I screamed at my kids. I sat in the car long after it was turned off and stared out. I ate dill pickle chips and candy for lunch. 

I have injustices in my life just like you all. Real injustices that tear at the threads of my heart and are quite unfair.

Injustices that make people say "Oh...honey...I'm so sorry. It's going to get better." (which I hate and appreciate all at the same time...because it affronts my pride and what I know...it might not "get better" in ways others think.)

But with all this...I also won.

I'd gotten so used to being on top. So used to being "together". So used to being a "teachable" mom to my kids and avoiding conflict. I was riding high.

Then out of nowhere I got knocked off my invisible top and had to decide what to do in the lowlands. It took me a couple of weeks. But I decided.

Worship.

My circumstances and response to them brought me once again to the altar. They brought me to my own human frailty and the ability to fall into despair, whining, and self pity at any given moment...

And as Kyle Idleman says "Whining in many ways, is the opposite of worshiping the Lord." Aha.

Whining is not my style. My kids will tell you their kooky mom screams out at the curb "Be shiny! Not whiny!" And honestly I didn't really whine the last two weeks (except to my dearest...you know who you are) outwardly...

That's because I'm a cave dweller...I burrow...I don't answer the phone...I ignore life and hide when I'm verging on not good things...so you'll never know I struggle...

But one cannot burrow from God.

I was whining in head prayers...my thoughts...I allowed myself a few days to wallow...then I just kept doing what I know to do.

I stopped screaming.

I ran.

I ate well.

I engaged.

And finally it happened. He broke through and I heard him loud and clear: Worship Me.

Yes. It's unfair.

Yes. Your load is heavy.

Yes. It's not what you expected.

Yes. You don't know how to make it all happen.

Yes. I am here.

Yes. This is holy ground.

Yes. I will be with you to till the end.

Yes. You ARE that positive, loving woman.

Yes. It's just a day. Get up. Worship.

As simple as that...He reminded me again that it all comes down to one principle in this life: Live your life in worship to Him. 

No other gods...including self-pity...before Him. 

He will take care of the rest. 

You will live in plenty even if you have less than what others deem enough. 

Worship.

He is good. All the time He is good.

So...for those of you who ask me how I do it...I don't.

I cling. He does it. 

And on occasion...I fall flat like a whining brat...and I learn all over again...

How to stand on shaky legs supported by the Savior...

Worship. 

Grace n Peace,

A ~

Ode to Groceries

...I used to dream...while in my parent's house...of buying my own groceries again...
plump, juicy tomatoes...rich from the garden...at the local farmers market...
I thought to myself...if I can just have that...I would be filled...
...my cupboards...though filled by budget and strings...house my groceries...
fresh, whole foods...ripe from the season...groceries...
I almost missed the blessing moment...the minute where I realize fruition...
...but then dish water and suds struck a cord...and I glanced about...with wet hands...
I have my own groceries...
And I am thankful.

Mundane Makes Me (Raw version)

(Disclaimer; I'm writing this more for myself than anyone else as a remembrance...and I'm coming off 36 hours of work and exhaustion is an understatement. Not editing. Just raw.)

God...you amaze me. I often think you will show me great visions of your plan in burning bushes and relevant prophets...then you choose an invalid. Even as I type this I cannot help but weep.

I had a moment that will forever change me. Unexpected. After the most horrific day; moment. I didn't see it coming...it was in a dark nursing hall room with someone the world would say has nothing to offer me but time...and I was forever changed.
I had lost my cool with a friend earlier...I had been standing for 12 hours...I thought I might lose my mind...and still it happened. That moment.
Spirit connection...as I squatted down and listened to the spirituals with Him...our hearts became one...right in the middle of my med pass...spirit communing with spirit...we listened...we shared...and He said "I knew we were special...I couldn't figure out why...now I know...Jesus...I can tell you really love Him..." My heart. I cried. Looked him in the eye and cried. We were encouraged. We made a vow to pray for another's struggles every day. It was Spirit. It was Divine. It could have been missed.
I'm still crying. My precious friend. Incapacitated yet he poured into me and I Him. I was changed. I was infused with Holy Calling...to the small...those deemed "palliative" not "purposeful"...those the world says "keep comfortable"not "what can they offer"...
I was humbled. Torn and shredded in the most beautiful way. Reminded of my prayers whispered to be Him in the world...and an Aha...that whole "I want to make a difference thing" becomes real when I'm faced with the brutal question "Do you?" Because you might end up in a nursing home on your feet weekend after weekend with this man for 32 hours for that one moment...do you really want to make a difference? Is the hard work, exhaustion, frustration, sacrifice really worth it like you say it is?  I've been educated in the last 3 years...that the moments I envisioned the great prophets of old and the new trailblazers of the present, have spoken of are minuscule in terms of the work and mundane behind them. Oh I'm sure there are those who live one exciting tale to the next (God knows with my ADD self I'd love to be one of them) but the majority of us find His moments between long pockets of waiting, walking, and wishing for more. My aha taught me that there IS calling in this season. I was filled with blessed assurance and fed deeply in soul ravines that threatened to run dry from lack of rain. I must put in the work...I must not miss the mundane...the mundane makes me. Centers me. Sometimes threatens me. But produces me.
If He chooses this path for me forever (and honestly I hope He doesn't), I'll walk it every day like I did yesterday...praying for strength to rise above and shine on those I can, remembering Jesus' words and actions on earth...He walked the mundane...gave well past his wall of exhaustion...and often sat with those the world deemed "gone"...Yet we celebrate His life as so exciting...could it be that Jesus had many mundane moments looking from the outside in? Could it be his feet and legs could barely move after walking and standing and teaching? Could it be he wanted bigger, more exciting things in that desert than starving for 40 days and just resisting the devil? Did Jesus have to live in the mundane too and learn to let it produce Him? Have we possibly, just possibly over excited the days of Jesus and forgotten that He was just a man? And He too dealt with keeping the heart of God in an earthen, limited body and had to relegate that with his dreams for greater every day? Have we underestimated the power of the stories we DON'T read in the New Testament...the ones where Jesus went to bed tired and got up more tired...yet got up anyway...and went about the daily tasks of life? Jesus knows my heart and how it longs to travel Africa and do those things our culture deems magical...yet I'm quite sure when I arrive...more mundane would be there to greet me...He also knows my heart in the mundane because He walked it...on tired, swollen feet He also walked it...and He experienced miracles,   unexpected highs, and forever changing moments. But in between all those things...there had to have been mundane. And He did it. Choosing fruit off trees rather than meat at the wealthy friends table...knowing He had something so priceless within but choosing to allow that priceless God to present however He deemed fit...with field or fancy table...with prostitute and tax collector...liberal and pharisee...invalid and possessed...One. Mundane Act after Another. 
And so I will, for the moments sake, trust the mundane in my life. Because in that perspective, the mundane becomes holy. I want to be holy.

I've fallen out of love...

I've fallen out of love with falling in love.

I've rather fallen in love with life instead.

There was a time in my life where I couldn't imagine a life without romantic entanglement and tangled sheets...

Tide turned. I lept and lept big for me...lept ALONE...shudder

Tide brought me to me. It's not every one's God path...it has been mine.

It crept up on me...when I was not chasing it. Workin' hard and chasin' dreams...that old thing called love. It caught up to me. I fell in love. With MY life.

Wearing an exquisite perfume sample on my wrist...I feel love and pleasure in it...

Window exalts the tree outside that is in full bloom...I feel ecstasy and beauty...

Listening to the sweetest little sad love song...doesn't sadden me a bit...I don't feel slighted anymore...I feel lucky...blessed rather...

I'm in no romantic relationship. I feel just fine about that. Rather...I feel great.

I've found life I think. I've found love I think. I've found peace I think.

I might fall in love tomorrow. I might not.

Good news is...I'm already in love.

I'm not alone. I'm surrounded in love. In more ways than I could view when younger and desperate for affirmation...

I'm surrounded by emotional opulence...

When my Daddy asks me over coffee, "Are you happy?"... I pause...my natural reaction is to think I'm not with a life that looks different than my peers...and I say "Yes. Yes I am." It's true.

Contentment is great gain. Dreaming again is being in love. I'm in love...very different this time around. ;-)

Grace n Peace,

A ~