Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Words

I grew up in a family where words were very important.  Whether they were encouraging words, stern words, or just being able to use our voices, we were taught at an early age to speak for ourselves.  We always ordered our own food when we went to dinner, we were encouraged to share our feelings and it should come as no surprise that word games in our house were big.

My brother and I learned at an early age that if we really wanted something.. .I mean  REALLY wanted something… if we wrote a letter we were more likely to get what we wanted.  We would put our heads together and compose ridiculously flattering letters to our parents with phrases like “Oh Emperor of the seas.... Empress of the lands…” with as many descriptive words as our vocabularies would allow.  (In fact I’m pretty sure my dad has a few of these letters saved…) but my parents always knew when they got a letter that we were asking for something… sometimes small… but usually something we weren’t normally allowed to do.  In fact… I can remember as an adult wanting to borrow a car from my parents for a trip and calling my brother to have him help me write a letter… (yes they let me borrow the car)

Phrases like “your vocabulary is too categorical for my diminutive intellect to comprehend” became jokes in my family. My brother and I would have contests to see who knew the longest word… he still maintains that “antidisestablishmentarianism” was the biggest word (right Dan?).  However, also as I grew up… when we were punished, it was often by writing out Proverbs like “reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing”… yea I may have written that one a lot.

As I’ve become and adult, I’ve tried to instill those same values into my children. If you’ve ever been out to eat with us, they order for themselves and speak clearly so that they are understood.  In my home, they speak for themselves and are encouraged to share how they’re feeling even if they think I won’t like what they have to say.  To me… words are very important.

There’s a line from my favorite movie that says:
 “Do you ever feel you've become the worst version of yourself? That a Pandora's box of all the secret, hateful parts - your arrogance, your spite, your condescension - has sprung open? Someone upsets you and instead of smiling and moving on, you zing them. "Hello, it's Mr Nasty." …. Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could pass all my zingers to you? And then I would never behave badly and you could behave badly all the time, and we'd both be happy. But then, on the other hand, I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows.” (Joe Fox, You’ve Got Mail)

Something I’ve striven for as an adult is to have less zingers. To think before I respond… to be quick to listen and slow to speak.   I’m someone who has wounded many with my words in my life… and have been wounded by other’s words as well.  To this day I hear over and over in my head “you will never be a good mother, you’re not wired for it…” … I fight those words daily.

In my job, I work hard to listen first and speak second… or for that matter sometimes not speak at all. In my friendships is where this is the hardest.  Often times when in conflict I’m quick to speak and slow to think. (but, really aren’t we all) Often, I’ve learned to put things in letters, because then I can read, and edit, and read and edit and repeat… so that I make sure I’m not saying things that I will regret in the heat of the moment.  I don’t want to regret my words, because I can’t take them back.

If you know me now and knew me several years ago, you’ll know that this is something I’ve worked a lot on.  Hopefully, you’ve noticed a change…

 So where do you fall on the line? Are you someone who doesn’t use their voice at all? Are you someone who zings people? Have you mastered this and sit in between? (if so… let’s have coffee and teach me your ways)…

Words are important to me… Words have hurt me more than almost anything else in my life.  I know I’ve hurt people with words… Do you pay attention to your words? Do you hurt people with your words?


Words… such a small thing that can be so big.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Tribute

I can remember it like it was yesterday... my mom came home from 4-H with my sister and said... "I've arranged for you to get together with Paula's daughter" .... I can remember thinking... are you kidding me! I don't need my mother arranging play dates for me.. I'm practically an adult (okay well I was a sophomore)... but nonetheless I agreed to go. We agreed to go to Amical for dessert (this became our favorite dessert spot and I still go there in honor of her now) and Horizon Books for coffee... When I got there to pick her up I couldn't believe that my mom thought I could actually have something in common with this girl.  I was a musical nerd, girly, and of course boy crazy... she was into horses, painting, well and boys... the only redeeming quality was that we both wore flip flops.  Little did I know that she would end up being my best friend for several years.

Our friendship blossomed that summer and we were soon inseparable.... If we weren't in school or working we could be found 'cruisin' the strip (yes that's just driving up and down front street blaring our music so loud all we did was laugh)... I can still remember the first time we pulled over to talk to boys... You would have thought she was going to die... she was SO RED! AND we were driving my mom's car (yea sorry mom) and it had a car seat in the backseat (real cool!) and when they asked us if we had kids we laughed so long and so hard that we had to pull away and then pull over to get it back together.  We had our own bench... one that we claimed downtown as ours... (yes another way to talk to boys.. we were young!) and sometimes when I miss her so much that it hurts I go and sit on our bench.

She lived for twilight shows and of course the fair... we even ran for fair queen together... her talent was making a french silk pie (to this day still my favorite) for the judges... barn chores, picking out the cute wanna be cow boys... and of course the 4-H dance that she always dragged me to... oh did she love to dance... Remember Brianne.... "I'm a choreographer"... best pick-up line at a dance club (gentlemen take note... DO NOT USE THAT LINE .... IT DOESN'T WORK)

We used to go to get ice cream and she would order a side of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and a side of Whipped Cream... and if she was feeling really adventurous she would add Cookie Dough... We laughed every time... oh and she loved strawberries... and Strawberry Shortcake... ya know the little doll that has strawberry everything.

I remember her having to have her jaw wired shut for what seemed like FOREVER (I'm sure it felt even longer to her) and we used to sit while she was half with it watching every chick flick we could find and reading trashy girly magazines...

We loved road trips... we usually would drag Grace along and stop and take random pictures along the way, whether it was going downstate to Grandma's or just on some wild adventure that day. She hated the way I drove. Might be because I almost killed us the first time we ever hung out... but in my defense.. it was snowy, and icy.. and their driveway sometimes was a nightmare.

We had more inside jokes than you could even imagine.... "no sour cream or tomatoes" still makes me laugh to this day.  Going through the drive through of Wendy's at night and talking to the automated machine for quite sometime before we realized they were actually closed. She washed the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.  She hated when I used to watch her put on mascara, especially when she used the eye lash curler..

I took her to her first party... I told her... "when you walk through the door they'll hand you a beer... just conveniently put it down somewhere and they'll never notice".. I don't think she believed me... Sure enough... that's exactly what happened...

Oh did we love to laugh... but we also went through some very hard times together.Her parents divorce, my family chaos, our first boyfriends and break ups, the birth of my first child (she even came and stayed with me in the hospital)... her moving all over the globe pursuing her love for missions...

She had a gentle spirit, but a fiery attitude, she loved love, oh she laughed, and her smile, and crazy curly hair...  We used to spend hours just dreaming about our weddings, what our lives would be like as we got older...

She was one of my very best friends... and on days like today.. my heart aches missing her so badly..I can't sit and sort out my girl stuff with her, talk about cute boys, laugh about anything and everything. She'll never get to see my boys grow up, have a family of her own. All of those dreams of hers are gone. I still can't believe she's gone.

I thank God every day for having had her in my life... even if it was for way too short of a time.

One of the only songs she would sing at karaoke was from Coyote Ugly... and the words bring me to tears every time I hear them... I can hear her singing...


"And I don't like to turn the radio on 

Just to find I missed my favorite song 
And I don't like to be the last with the news 
But I do love you " 

You are forever in my heart my dear sweet friend.  I miss you every day... 

"I don't like to be alone in the night
And I don't like to hear I'm wrong when I'm right 
And I don't like to have the rain on my shoes 
But I do love you 
But I do love you" 

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Reconstruction


I’m a very driven person… driven in my job, my parenting, my personal life, my musical life…. To me, success, or the feeling of “having arrived” is often a figment of my imagination because of that constant desire to grow.... or personal discontentment if I'm really being honest.
 Throughout my own self-reflection this week, I've found myself thinking a lot about what has been damaged in my life; not only in relational areas but personally both physically and spiritually.  Let me tell you... to say those thoughts were overwhelming would be an understatement. 

Damage: injury or harm that reduces value or usefulness 

As is natural for almost any human being, all of those negative experiences come to the surface rather quickly (gosh what's with that... can we re-wire our brains so that we see positives first... wouldn't that be nice) and as I began to reflect on the "negatives" from my life... gee it's amazing I'm still standing... or alive for that matter.  
My life has been an interesting road with some very dark, low valleys and some beautiful high peaks of amazingness (apparently my spell-check does not like the word amazingness).  There is no doubt in my mind that my journey in life has very much shaped me into the woman that I am today, and for that I am very grateful... but it has not been easy... AT ALL!

As I spent some time looking at that it got me thinking about Reconstruction.

Reconstruction: a thing that has been rebuilt after being damaged or destroyed.

I don't know if you've ever had significant areas of reconstruction in your life... but let me just tell you... they are hard!  AND... often times, when you think that the reconstruction has been completed, something happens that reminds you that you aren't nearly as close as you thought you were to being whole.

Being whole... what does that really mean? what does it look like? Is it really possible to be whole when you've been damaged? 

Wholeness: uninjured or unharmed; sound


Perhaps... we have it wrong... rather than striving for wholeness... are we really instead searching for significance? 

Significance: the quality of being significant or having a meaning


For most of us... we look to other people or things to find that meaning... wholeness... purpose... whatever word it is that you choose to identify with.  
I've spent a lot of my life finding my significance in helping other people.  Now don't get me wrong... while pride is an area I will always struggle with... that statement is not meant to be prideful.  Let me explain...
I've always been the person that people relied on... as far back as I can remember my friends have come to me when they're struggling or need a clear head or help sorting something out.  I'm good at that... I love people, and find great excitement in seeing people claim who they are as individuals.  It's one of the many reasons I love my job.  
So as I started thinking about the things I rely on for significance, it became very clear that I default to the wrong types of things when I’m hurting.  They say that you can only take a person as far in their story as you’re willing to go in your own… How far am I willing to go in my own personal growth?
This week I’ve had to make some changes, especially in relationships that have been very painful... in fact they’ve been downright gut wrenching. I hope that in making this change, I’ll be able to find that growth that I’m looking for… that I’ll be able to continue on my road towards “wholeness” not only stronger but as a better woman than I was before.  That the beauty and value that I hope others see in me really is an honest reflection of who I am rather than a facade.  That you can see me for me… and that my peace in who I am as an individual, the significance that I’ve found… IS what you see… rather than my pain…
Is it safe to say that I’m still under “reconstruction?”…. Absolutely… I may always be… but really… aren’t we all…
The key is to be okay with that… to allow who we are at the core to shine through regardless of whatever growth we are striving toward…
Because really… shouldn’t we always be striving for growth.  I know I am… and sometimes that growth is hard… and sometimes it’s easier… this week.. it’s hard.

How’s your journey in growth going? Have you resigned yourself to where you are in life? Is that really where you want to be?... 
Would you like to join me on my journey? I'd love to have traveling companions. 

Monday, June 1, 2015

Decisions

Being a mother is a fine balancing act between making wise decisions for your children and trying to keep your own sanity! (in all of my clumsiness as a human being (insert Newton jokes here)  tightrope walking was never in the cards for me)..

Often times as I make decisions for my children I weigh the following things in my mind…
1.       Will they be safe?
2.       Will they be cared for?
3.       Will they be loved?
4.       Will they learn something?

Then… if I can’t answer any of those questions… this set of questions takes over:
1.       Will they have fun?
2.       Will I end up arrested for some form of child abuse or neglect? (apparently allowing your child to scream on the back porch is frowned upon… or so I’ve heard….)
3.       Will severe to permanent bodily harm be avoided?

If all of those are a go… refer to the first set of questions…

I’m not terribly warm and cuddly, my Type A personality often takes over as default when faced with tough decisions and it’s quite difficult to determine at times what is the best path to take because normally my gut reaction is not the kindest or most “motherly.”

So when Nicholas’ biological father decided to meet Nicholas for the first time last November… there was a lot of internal wrestling. 

Would Nicholas be safe emotionally? How would I explain to him the complicated web that weaved the story of his life?  Could he even begin to understand?  Would he be hurt or angry with me? Was it all my fault? (no, of course not… but I am a woman and naturally it’s in my DNA to assume it’s my fault).

However, Nicholas has been blessed with an unbelievably laid back, even-tempered and beyond gracious personality that has weathered well my many missteps in life and not only survived, but thrived. 
So as he prepared to meet Zach for the first time, we both were thrilled, and nervous (I’m pretty sure the pit that consumed my stomach was so deep that the Sahara Desert would have been lost in it).

It went remarkably well… they had a wonderful time… and Nicholas was gracious enough in not asking too many questions therefore allowing for my floundering brain to keep up with everything going on. Zach came back to visit this week and Nicholas was over the moon excited and the pit in my stomach didn’t seem to appear this time…. Well instead it’s just a small puddle…

While I’m sure there is a long relational road to be built, it’s nice to see that it’s working at a pace that we all seem to be able to handle.

But it got me thinking…. Is there a “right way” to make decisions…

HOW CAN I PUT MY FEET ON SOLID GROUND?!?

I’m someone who wants to be as informed about all the options and possibilities or outcomes as I can be.  While I’m good at making fast and hard decisions during a crisis it’s not the method I prefer.    This is something that’s different about me… I used to be a knee jerk decision maker… 

HOWEVER!! A couple other things I’ve learned when it comes to decision making.…

1   1.     I have to do what works best for me… not the THOUSANDS who feel the need to offer an opinion
     2.  What I decide works for me is ENOUGH
  3 .I can say no… and surprisingly enough it feels good to say no 
        4. The only bad decision is the one that I make that goes against what works for me


How do you make decisions?  Do you need the input of a lot of people, do you ask no one, what tightrope act are you walking today?  

If you aren’t sure… or feel caught in the balancing act of life.  Take your feet off the rope… the ground is right there… and it’s a much happier place to be.