My Love Song and Magnum Opus

This is my love song,

The love was all wrong. 

Change is hard. 
Trust, often betrayed,
hard to bestow on this house of cards.

This Was My Story, This Was My Song

Too much to lose,
No hope to choose.
Nothing but abuse.
Oh look, Booze!
All good, just hang loose!
Everything is an excuse.
It keeps me here to mind my cues.
Get off my back, you fucking cooze!

Be right back, quick blues.
The one I choose, the ones I use.
The things you ignore, mostly me.
Are the first signs, hard to see.

But only to me.

The rest of my world could see

Distracted by fabulosity,

You took all the best of me,
Shamed and discarded the rest of me.
Now expect the world from me.
The same world which hears you call me crazy.

I need the next line of my song to appear

Because it is a heartache living here.

January 18, 2022

I seem to be the only one who believes my wounds, so why would I allow more wounding?  

Love me as I am, not how you wish I was.  

I don't have to change my very essence to suit the whims of spectators.  As far as I can see, I'm traveling alone, in the big picture of life, as in, my children are grown.  I'm going through a shit show and a good bit of it involves giving my power away and believing someone else's opinion of who I should be.  I changed everything to be the right person to fit into a life for someone who could not have possibly cared any less.

*I should be over it by now...except I can't because I am right in the midst of it.

*I should listen to all.of the well meaning advice that I either ask for or certainly did not ask for.

*Still have people forget about me because I purposely made.my existence so small and my requirements zero.  My goal was to never be any trouble.  

*I will be worth the trouble, to me.  And that's allowed.

And my situations were all out of control.  Also, my own damn fault.  I thought I was so damn important and irreplaceable.  AND, running on empty.  Desperately trying to fill all the buckets around me with my own empty bucket.

Not even noticing I was giving my all to people who didn't want me at all...until the right someone came along and noticed me for the first time in a very long time.  And I wasn't looking or trying, just being me and someone else found that attractive and valued me.  Suddenly, I saw a happier version of me and I wanted to be happier.  I still do AND I will.  I had to fall.  I had to fail because I thought I was so damn perfect and I absolutely was not.  I was a prideful person barely hanging on to my sanity.  I was proving to the world how useful I was.  I was begging for a place at a table that would not allow me.

It was a very pivotal moment.  I fell out of my life in a big way that rocked my soul and shook me like a dog.😂
Part of my addiction is focusing on serving others so hard that I never have to worry about my own shit.  Life sat me right down for three years to figure my shit out.  In the midst of chaos, all around.  Life is real.  It's a shit storm.  Plus, loving me first was always critical, I was brainwashed into submitting to authority.  Usually just another person appointed leadership.  I've been a part of some really shitty ideas.  Worshipping people, any people is a damn crime.  I'm glad I failed.  It finally changed me for the better.  I hope my children always respect me, despite so many hurtful mistakes.  May God always guide my path to where I grow into a better version of me.  I also hope and pray with all my heart that more people fail so they can love themselves the way the rest of us already do.

No one ever really hated me, but I was sick.  I was needy.  My anger was always on the ready.  My poor coping skills were as self taught as the rest of me.  Its been a long lonely road for me.  Churches and church leaders have fucked over my entire family, personally.  Leaders forced my children to judge and devalue their own family and I agreed with them and cried because I was a terrible person.

What a load of shit!  I am thankful every day that I raised very strong willed individuals who can spot a phony in a heartbeat.  They just watched how people treated their mom and that told them all they needed to know.  Counting my blessings where I can.  May God always prune my branches.  I want to bloom and be the best me possible.  I don't mind being lonely or alone ever again.  I am never alone, unless I detach from the loving support network that God allowed me to build even while I was a flawed bitchy emotional wreck.  BECAUSE, God.  I was the only one who thought I was passing for perfection. My friends and family accepted my flaws and loved my essence, not all of my thoughts and ideas.  I am more than my thoughts and accomplishments.  I am a body and a soul with a caring super sensitive heart.  It's a tricky dance being me and I don't ask anyone else to dance with me.  BUT, if someone ever steps up and asks me to dance again, intertwine my life with another human again, I prefer they know their own dance already and be willing to learn mine too.  That way, we can dance together and apart.😊 Life needs more dancing and I still haven't learned, but I will.

Now, I can accept the flaws I have always had, all along.  I had them and I was real and I was kind and I loved big.  I have always led with my heart.  I can't help the folks that didn't love me back.  That was never anything I had any control over.  Most of the time, they were projecting their own hurts at the world.  I just so happened to be so sensitive to their emotions, and I was just narcissistic enough to know I could fix everything with enough love and service.

I was my own sabeteur, but somehow, thought it wasn't selfish because he and my kids were my all.  I would have died for them, but they needed me to LIVE LAUGH LOVE AND BE LOVED.  I'm gonna do that now, one day at a time, chasing dreams, feeling the feels, listening better, journaling, moving around, making plans, loving family, treasuring my blessings-especially the friends, but the greatest of these is sowing love instead of anger, so I can reap love, not wounds.

Hard shit and all the feels

What if women must be managed inside of societal circles (CHURCH) to keep men from sinning because men just can't help being attracted to women in such a way that they will give up everything for it?  Especially very young and beautiful women...but also any woman acting friendly that is bangable.  Men have this NEED, you know??  What if they can use their power and influence to screw around and no one ever finds out about it?  SCORE!!

Bill Clinton. Revered.  He had no rules...kind of like Trump. Despised.  They are the same man!!  Both will do good work because other men have total respect for a man that goes through life with no rules...just doing whatever feels good at the time.

Do women secretly hold all the power, but we are  SHAMED into dressing and acting BETTER to protect the righteous man from our POWER.  Are righteous men the same men who are misogynists who hate women because women are for the man.  A gift from God for man.  SEX...but only with ONE woman and she owes it to you everytime you want it and if she doesn't put out, you are not forced to deal with your shortcomings as a lover or person.  Just find a better one.  A prettier one who likes sex more.  Maybe 20 years younger.  Maybe, men are still shopping for a better model no.matter how nice their wife is.  Maybe, being a powerful man means you can afford whatever you like and collect beautiful things...cars and women.

WOMEN are to be enjoyed and controlled, managed, used to fulfill sexual desire, then discarded.  Truly discarded, compartmentalized and forgotten.  It's perfectly normal for a normal VIRILE man to use and abuse many young and beautiful women along the way...because you couldn't help it. Oh and the "mistake" women that you aren't as proud of banging...those you cant even admit you used for sex...gross.  Never acknowledge that fat bitch to anyone.   After all, God gave dominion to man in all things, including women???


I sure hope we don't start acting like men and making sure everyone gets a little taste of our power.  Because when that happens, you better hope absolute power does not corrupt absolutely.

I mean, that would be like letting the prostitutes keep their money and not pay the pimp. If you have been a powerful person and you used that power to abuse others, you will use any and all means available to retain power.  Although, the sincerely downtrodden and abused are incapable of saying no or fighting back-that is what makes it abuse!!

God forgive me for all the times I used my power to abuse those in my charge. Forgive me every time I was unkind and full of insecurities and resentments.  Forgive me for not asking for help and just going from person to person sharing the anger and pain of my past with my present.   Forgive me for ever feeling superior.  I am better than no one.  I desperately need HEALTHY love and connection.

Thank you God, for giving me more compassion than anger.  May that compassion always prevail as I seek to tell my truths, own my mistakes and live in kindness with other humans.  Help me forgive myself as easily as I forgive others because grace can only be given if grace has truly been received.

Parenting 301

When my kids were babies, all I could think about was meeting their needs, keeping us all fed and getting as much sleep as possible.  I also tried to keep us all bathed and showered...daily was the goal, but I can't say that we always achieved it.  I was also attempting to manage our household.  I didn't believe it could all be so hard.  I couldn't wait until the kids could talk and tell me what they needed.  I couldn't wait until they could walk and not have to be packed.

Later, I would learn how easy babies were when I had to clear the house of anything breakable from the waist down and suspect any and all silence.  I lived for naptime when I could hopefully get a quick shower and not be exclusively in charge of keeping a tiny person from harming themselves whilst exploring the environment.  It was so much harder than having a baby, or so my now experienced mom brain would think.  I couldn't wait until they could really think, write and communicate effectively.  I was especially excited for kids that could get in and out of the car on their own.

I kept thinking that each age would get easier and then discovering that each age was in fact, harder than the last.  Fast forward to now-two grown children and one who turns eighteen in June. This is what I thought would be NIRVANA...kids that can be left by themselves, drive, work, and really help around the house.  It would be easy as pie. But, alas, there is no pie.  It isn't even a cake-walk.  In fact, it contains very little sweetness, in my humble opinion.  It is stinking hard.  Because I have three daughters, I have three very tough critics.  We judge our same sex parent the hardest.  And, things are very black and white until about age 25-when the brain is officially finished with its physiological development.  All these things add up to the perfect storm of momma stress. 

It is at this stage in my mommy career that I begin to second guess myself.  Should I have waited longer to start them to school?  Was homeschooling a good option for us?  Should I have been stricter?  Should I have been less strict?  Maybe I should have been a working mom?  Look at all of my bad habits, they have developed some of them!  I'm not very nice.  I wish we had traveled more.  I can't believe we didn't save for this or that.  I thought I'd be more confident.  I am totally faking this whole 'adult' thing.  I have NO IDEA what I am doing.  I'm terrified that I may have ruined my kid's life.  Yup, that last one sums it all up.  I did not read I Love You This Much enough and now my child doesn't feel loved enough.  I didn't ever follow through with that whole prayer journal thing and now our life is falling apart.  I never got that whole chore system chart off the ground and now my kids are slobs.  I have failed my children. 

This is the kind of thinking that will drive me crazy, maybe even launch a full depression.  So I just can't go there.  Believe me, it will take a huge effort not to go there.  My children will try to take me there.  They are looking for a way to make their failures into my failures.  I tried it on my own parents.  I'm just now owning some of my crap.  But the terrible truth is this: We are ultimately responsible for ourselves.  My children are ultimately responsible for themselves.  I have tried to train them up to take responsibility.  If I somehow didn't, LIFE will absolutely teach it to them.  LIFE is a very effective teacher:  No work, no money.  No car, no go.  Bad boyfriend, bad relationship.  Give rude, get rude.  No study, no pass.  My good friends, Harold Ann and Sara M., both gave me the best parenting advice, respectively: "God loves them more than you do." and "We are raising children who need a savior."  Sometimes I have to say these over and over to myself.  There is no such thing as the perfect parent.  No one gets it all right.  We all do the best we know how.  Some of us had great examples, some of us had terrible examples.  Some of us will have kids that conquer the world and experience amazing successes.  Some of us have kids that will fail so many times, we will cry ourselves to sleep wondering when they will get back on track.  Letting go is the hardest thing...but we have to.  Holding on keeps our baby birds from fledgling.  Fledgling is the only way they are going to learn to fly.

Powerlessness

I am an a thinker-sometimes, an over-thinker.  Thinkers are people who consider all sides to a story. The inner workings of this mind is constantly analyzing everything-exhaustively examining everything.  A word or tidbit will get under my skin and I will dissect it and not let it go until my mind has found some sort of solution or reconciliation.

When I was younger, it was all very egocentric.  I would replay conversations in my head and get my feelings hurt over some perceived mistreatment.  I made mountains out of molehills and constantly held my friends and family to levels of loyalty and perfection that they could never live up to. Finally, God saw fit to give me temperance.  Praise God!!  Now, I have the comfort of knowing that most people's reactions and actions are also egocentric.  We are all the center of our own worlds and our views definitely represent our own baggage.  I've lain a bit of my baggage down, little by little through the years.  Still have more of it I need to relinquish-but all in good time.

The bottom line is that people don't typically mean to hurt other people.  Hurting and wounded people hurt others out of their own brokenness-but not very many folks actively seek to hurt others out of meanness...unless they have never known anything except mean, which is another matter all together.   It is important not to take our hurts to heart, but to take them to God.  This is why I believe God tells us in Matthew 5:44 and again in Luke 6:27 to love our enemies and bless those who persecute us.  It changes our perspective.  We begin to view the world through other eyes that aren't ours.  To walk a mile in their shoes, so to speak.  It's hard to hate someone you are praying for.  Not impossible...some people are really challenging in every way.

The state of the world today is reminding me, daily and sometimes hourly, that I am thankful for a God who can redeem this fallen world.  However, I don't believe I get to stand by and wait for that day.  The latest events are a call to action.  It isn't enough to simply pray and trust God, we must battle in big and small ways for our neighbors.  The enemy is the same enemy it has always been: EVIL.  Fear is so prevalent that it is giving evil a foothold that is tearing our country apart.  "Fear not" is found all through the Bible because God knows the power that fear has.  We are powerless, but not without power.  We each have the power of goodness within us.  We have to step up and use it.

Half of our country has made black people the enemy, the other half has named the police the enemy. Neither is true.  EVIL is alive and well and seizing the hearts of our people.  PLEASE do not allow fear to grip you in such a way that you begin to see 'all black people' or 'all police' in a certain way.  We are all individuals-with individual hearts and thoughts.  People are NEVER the enemy.  Don't allow unwholesome talk to come out of your mouth.  Stand up when wrong is done, no matter who was the wrongdoer.  In addition, we must also admit that this nation is lashing out against it's black citizens in a way that is very unfair.  The SYSTEM has prejudicial flaws that need to be fixed,  We must also admit that the backlash against the police is very unfair.  They are in the trenches, being put in dangerous situations every time they go to work.  We have created two target groups of good people, it is beyond unfair.  Promote love and unity every way you possibly can.  Be intentional, show kindness to everyone wherever you go.  We are called to be CHRISTLIKE in a hurting world.  We have to actually have to engage the world to do that.  Go out of your way to show love and kindness to black people and policemen-and well, everyone.  Wounded and persecuted people they need our love and support.  Fight the fear with love and kindness.  BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT TO SEE IN THE WORLD!!

The Gift of God

I was a substitute teacher.  I loved it so much.  There are so many diverse and wonderful teenagers in the world.  I was just the right mix of thoughtful and sarcastic for this job to be a good fit.  The kids often asked me questions.  They asked about parenting.  I said, "Don't do it, it's all a big trick.  You pour your heart and soul into them and they reject everything you teach them and hate you for it.  They never express love or gratitude and they don't even like you."  Then, I said I was just kidding and they should have a whole bunch of kids in order to offset all the idiots having kids or we will only have idiot kids running the world.

Mostly, I am totally joking.  But, it is a little bit of laughter through tears.  Why, because I love God with my whole heart.  I owe everything about me to the blood of Christ.  He gets the credit for everything good in me.  I turned away from God and nearly killed my soul.  I was broken and I did not think I would ever be anything that resembled whole again.  But in HIS mercy, I am a whole with a lot of healing broken places.  It defines me.  It gives me hope, peace, compassion and self worth.  

My husband and I were raised in church.  We raised our children in church.  Now all three of them are questioning God, religion, and the meaning of church.  I mourn the thought of kids without faith, and not just my own.  To me, it is as though they have cancer and I have medicine-but they won't take it.  Life is cancer, God is the cure.  I want everyone I love to know Him.  HIM, not the image of Christians, the image of Christ.  It is so unfair to judge GOD by the actions of people!  We are so flawed, collectively and individually.  We present a flawed vision of God to the world. However, perfection is not our goal, progress in relationship with Christ is the goal; getting better each day.  This is a marathon, not a sprint.

Romans 3:23-24For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.  

My friend offered me the encouragement of Proverbs 22:6  Train up a child in the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.  Well, of course, I've heard that before.  I've quoted it before.  However, sometimes you just need to hear things over and over again.  She reminded me, my kids aren't old.  They are young and inquisitive.  They aren't DONE yet.  I'm not even done yet and I'm certainly not old!  Life is an effective teacher.  Parenting is hard, but it has brought me to a whole new level of faith.  I know that God loves them more than I do and HE is in control.  His ways are not subject to my rules.  I can do this.  AND, from what I understand, sometimes parents get grandkids and I've heard they heal all of the battle wounds of parenting.

Now, I give you a review:  
https://www.amazon.com/Adored-365-Devotions-Young-Women/dp/0310762790/ref=sr_1_1_sspa?ie=UTF8&qid=1514568087&sr=8-1-spons&keywords=Adored%3B+365+Devotions+for+Young+Women&psc=1
Adored; 365 Devotions for Young Women
We all need reminders that we are adored.  Here is a year's worth.  A daily dose of how much God loves us.  Perhaps you have a young lady in your life that needs to know she is fearfully and wonderfully made.  This world constantly tell us we are never enough.  Don't believe these lies.  God has a plan for each of us.  We can only truly love when we can fully embrace HIS love for us.  Then, there is no stopping us from being salt and light in a hurting world.  Each devo is a quick read with an easy life application.  We need to always remember that our love becomes complete with God's help...he makes us whole again and that is truly the best gift of all.

Ch-ch-changes

Church is different now.
I'm not wrestling a car seat or a diaper bag.  I'm not making up a bottle or filling a sippy cup. I don't have a bag filled with quiet toys, books and snacks.  I don't race the clock to get myself and three other females ready for church...the race that started early the night before with baths and locating everything from tights to wipes.

Church is different now.
I am not helping anyone buckle into their carseat, booster seat or regular seat.  No projectiles fly through the air endangering my life or my sanity during the commute to church.  Nobody is touching anyone in a way that forces me to issue a reminder to, "Keep our hands to ourselves, please."  No one is ignoring that to cause a stir.

Church is different now.
I am not standing outside of a classroom worried that my girl/girls will cry and need to be rescued.  I am not crying in a different empty classroom because life is so hard that Hubby and I had a big fight- over something silly or enormous- and I am wondering if coming to church is worth all the fuss.  I am not going into my class late hoping that something God inspired will minister to me in such a way that I am thankful for all the hoops I had to jump through to get there.  I am no longer desperately wishing someone will find me worthy of friendship.  I am no longer pretending to have all my crap together so someone might give me the precious words I long so desperately to hear: "You are a good mom!"

Church is different now.
I am not protecting a communion plate or offering plate form little curious hands.  I am not cringing every time my little ones are disruptive, immediately aware of all the looks-be they smiling or otherwise.  I am not being reassured in the foyer by Carl Keller that baby noises are music to his ears followed by a big bear hug that makes my heart swell with love.

Church is different now.
I hear all the words of the service. I am not wrestling a small person through a sermon that seems terribly long that day.  I smile at the babies and children around me.  I sit there amazed by all the people who have blessed me so much in my twenty plus years at my married church home.  I marvel at the lives that have touched mine-for good or bad.  I consider the people who have come and stayed.  I remember the people who have come and gone.  I am saddened for me for the ones who have gone on to Glory...ecstatic for them.  I grieve the loss of members who moved on over this thing or that.  My heart aches over scandals and preferences that birthed amputations to our church body.

Church is different now.
I am awestruck that my marriage remains strong while other marriages I envied have crumbled and fallen apart.  I am blessed and amazed to have made so many connections and friendships within the walls of this blessed place.  I am humbled by the relationships and mentoring from people here.  I am delighted by the way they have tolerated my shortcomings and loved me enough that I changed for the better in so many ways.  I am honored to have been able to pass that precious gift of acceptance on to other folks.

Church is different now.
But it is so much the same.  Church is a soft place to fall when life pulls the rug out from under me and laughs.  Church is a family that loves me when I mess up.  Church loves me when I am surly and snippy because I didn't get MY WAY.  Church loves me when I am prideful and arrogant because I was, so obviously, right.  Church loves me when I am so far off track that I can't even see the track anymore.  Church loves me when I am stubborn and don't wanna be there.  Church loves me when I overflow with love, mercy and compassion.  Church loves me when I am as dried up as the bones in Ezekiel.

Thank you, Preacher, for reminding me that church is the bride of Christ. You can't be close to Christ for very long if you mistreat and neglect HIS BRIDE, His beautiful and glorious bride who is perfect not because of her actions but because of the blood of Christ...just like me.  Praise be to God.

My Testimony

I don't remember a time in my life when I did not know Jesus.  I have always felt like He was my best friend: an attached, invisible friend.  So, when I was doing well, He was right there, smiling proudly. When I was not doing the right things though, He was so sad and disappointed.  Every Sunday of my childhood, when the altar call came, it was all I could do to keep from going forward.  From Pass Me Not to Just As I Am, I was miserable.  Finally, at age eleven, I broke.  I answered the call.  I became a REAL believer and a few months later, I was baptized.  It was a wonderful feeling, until the guilt returned.  I was constantly disappointed with the fact that I simply could not be good.  I was becoming a young woman and I had a crude sense of humor.  I just could not make all the right decisions.  It was so daunting.  Each Sunday came with an extra dose of guilt as those invitation songs were a constant reminder of my inadequacies.

Eventually, my strong conviction that I would never be 'good enough' won out and I began to live a life of duplicity.  I still tried really hard to be a good person, but I didn't really hold back too much from 'having fun'.  I've listened to stories of people who never went to church until they were grown, heard the gospel, became a Christian and their whole world changed.  When compared to my life of sinful rebellion, as a CHRISTIAN, it makes me feel pretty awful.

Even today, I struggle with thinking that I can never measure up.  And honestly, I can't.  That is something I can only achieve through the blood of Christ.  Additionally, I can't just skate through life on grace, using it as a license to sin.  As a Christian, I am called to do better. I make choices for my life that align with the teachings of Christ.  I am to be set apart, not judgmental. What right do I, a sinner, have to judge another?  Relationship with God is what people need, not judgement. I aspire to loving and forgiving the most unlovable.  It is not an easy walk.  I get tripped up, sometimes on accident, sometimes on purpose-I allow my sinful nature to take the wheel.  Does this make me an insincere hypocrite?  No.  It makes me a normal human being.  The love of God is supernatural.  I cannot do it on my own.  Only when my eyes are fixed on Him can I walk on the water.  Only when my eyes are focused on HIM and his amazing powers of transformational love, am I attractional.  My goal is to attract people to Christ because of who HE is, and how that makes me a better person.  If it is all about me- I will only attract doubters who will see all of my flaws magnified.  The good news is Christ, not my perfection.  The good news is that through the filter of the blood of Christ, God sees me as pure...As I  WILL BE, eternally, not as I am now.

This brings me to my 'drug' of choice.  The drug responsible for most every sin in my life: GUILT.  It looms over me by day and night, in good times or bad.  It is more faithful than the famous geyser. For many years it pushed me far away from God's people.  In fact, I'm not sure I would have even defined myself as a believer-but I was.  Deep into the deepest pit of shame, I still belonged to God and He would not allow me to stay there.  It isn't actually guilt that was the sin, but then again, it was.

My guilt tells me many lies, but the biggest lie is that deep down, I am not really a Christian. The panic that says maybe the blood of Christ can't cover sins as blatant and destructive as mine. The next lie is that I am a bad person.  If people could see my heart and the fact that sometimes I am not sincere, they not only wouldn't like me, I would be exposed as the terrible person I am. Hypocrisy is a word never far from my lips as I try to do the next right thing without feeling like the biggest phony ever.  Like most lies from the enemy, they are convincing.  Which comes first, the guilt or the sin?  For me, they tend to travel together.  Like a drunk and his designated driver, they are partners in crime.

My guilt told me that I was so worthless, I had better settle for any attention I could get.  So when a well-respected man in the community sought me out for an inappropriate relationship, I was flattered.  I welcomed his advances and felt worth.  Forget the fact that I was only 12 years old, my guilt talked me into being a woman of worth-desired by an older man. I knew it was wrong, but it was irresistible. He groomed me, seduced me, told me how special I was.  When I was around 17, he 'encouraged' me to be his affair.   For a time, this relationship defined me as 'not good enough'/'too good' for normal relationships.  I was too old and mature to settle for guys my age, or maybe just too damaged.  Either way, I sought after men that were unavailable.  I believed in my own powers of persuasion.  This led to a whole series of relationships that left me broken and jaded.  I not only did not believe I deserved happiness, I wasn't sure it was even a real thing.  I relied on men, especially older men, to validate me.  As long as I could attract a man, I was worth something.  And yet, I had also made the decision that most men were like animals and weren't deserving of anything lasting.  It left me empty inside and created a cavernous desire to be loved.

When I met my husband, something shifted in me.  He was different.  He was someone I could love, that would love me back.  Our relationship grew to a conclusion I could never imagine.  Marriage? Could I, damaged and broken as I was, possibly get married?  Would it last?  I told him all of my deepest darkest secrets in an effort to send him running for the hills.  He told me his.  Neither of us ran.  Surely God was in this?  We have now been married 21 years and I have to say that, YES, God was definitely in it!  Two broken people began a life together.  Did that cure us?  No, we became even more broken.  I was so insecure and freaked out because of my past.  He was so insecure and freaked out because of his past AND my past.  And then two years later, we had two beautiful baby girls within a year of each other.  Four years later, another baby girl added. Broken on steroids.  Our marriage has not been easy. Wounded people wound people.  We both have some battle scars for the ways we wounded each other.  But we also have the victory that is our marriage.  The best marriage ever?   No, but a committed and loving relationship that we both strive to protect? YES!

As I peel back the layers of my soul like an onion, the next hurdle to overcome is what I call my 'insulation'.  I was a bit stocky growing up, not fat-but definitely thicker than a lot of the other kids-especially my sisters.  It is what made my 12 year old self appear more womanly than it should have.  I was curvalicious.  Being labeled fat soon had me believing that I was. I also lived with quite a bit of verbal abuse that always equated my weight as my worth. Thin equaled beautiful.  Fat was gross and a reason to be ridiculed. Believing that I was fat soon had me treating myself accordingly and has developed into a life-long obsession with food.  Food is my friend.  How does guilt play a role here?  Not feeling any self worth is a direct by-product of bad guilt.  I should point out that normal guilt is healthy-you commit a wrong, guilt ensues, you seek to right the wrong.  Sinful guilt is straight from the bowels of hell.  It convinces you that you will never be good, so why try? I firmly believe it is the root of all addictions:  I am already bad, it won't make me worse.  I have nothing else.  I like this and it makes me feel comforted. I love this comfort thing, I don't want to stop.  I can't stop.  I am addicted therefore I am bad.  I am bad therefore there is no hope.  There is no hope, why even try?  This thinking explains drug use, alcohol addiction, food addiction, co-dependent behavior, cutting, anorexia and even affairs.  In recovery, it is appropriately dubbed, stinking thinking.

So why am I addicted to food?  This fat on my body is an insulator.  It makes it safe to be around men and women.  A chubby girl who is bubbly and flirty isn't a threat to anyone.  Also, I'm funny.  Both of these things are insulators in life.  They are highly adaptable coping mechanisms to keep my inner self guarded.  The only people I let in are the ones who have proven worthy.  Does this mean I am fake?  Quite the contrary, after the jokes fade, I am so real and serious that it is also a bit of an insulator.  Truth and bluntness are my third layer of insulation.  It has been a struggle to keep my biting sarcasm at bay.  I am thankful for a loving church family and excellent Christian friends to teach me to be funny without being caustic.  The root of my humor has a dark side that will chew you up and spit you out...and the dark side also has cookies, so of course, that's always tempting.  So, after 21 years of marriage and a much closer walk with God, I value myself for all the right reasons now.  My husband is my spouse and my love, not my validation.  I am who God says I am. AND, God has been very faithful to me, He has changed who I am-reversed those tendencies to look to men to validate me.  But, the food thing? It lingers.

As my girls have grown older, our marriage has grown to be very strong.  So have our individual addictions.  We both still live with them and we manage them well.  We are works in progress.  We are trying desperately to live up to the example of Christ.  Sometimes, Christ shows through in us so beautifully through our broken places.  We celebrate those times.  Other times, our flesh is mighty. Our girls know the full extent of our lack of perfect...I don't sugar coat any of our struggles.  I also don't broadcast them to the world. (Anymore, Lol. Praise the Lord!)  We have never claimed to be perfect Christians, perfect parents or perfect people.  We are broken by life, healed by Christ and growing stronger in our faith every day.  I am humbled by HIS grace and mercy daily.  I live for the day I give up dancing with guilt and emerge victorious.  Sometimes, Ican feel VICTORY so strong, it is like a presence I can touch.  Writing this down makes it feel like I am ready to go into battle...just for today.  Just for today, I can admit that I have a problem that has become unmanageable.  One day at a time.

Pensive...

Today, I'm doing a lot of reflecting.  I just had a long and drawn out debate with my daughter on the book of faces.  She thinks that everything boils down to racism.  I do not agree.  But I am so glad to see her being passionate about changing the world.  It's refreshing, really.  We get our passionate sparks for social justice ignited.  Sometimes they catch fire and spread and we truly effect change.  More often though, our sparks fizzle and maybe even go out. 

This leads me to the subject of the day: overthinking.  I'm an overthinker.  There are many links on social media connecting overthinking and depression. Some of those links lead me to places that are not good places for me to dwell.  I have had a couple of battles with depression.  I really could not give words even now to what that was like.  I could not begin to describe it or define it or even tell you why it happened.  I don't begin to speculate about what someone else's depression looks like.  I wouldn't debate whether medication is a necessary thing for anyone else-that is ultimately a very personal thing best worked out by doctor and patient.  Close friends and family are often helpful to gain perspective when perspective is lost-but an outsider has no business supposing.

One topic I do want to cover is this:  People who think deeply are more likely to suffer from depression.  Those of us who over-think and over-analyze have trouble fitting in sometimes.  Things cause us pain that others don't even bother to consider.  Ever heard any of the following phrases: "You think too much.", "You analyze everything.", or "I like you better when you are funny."  If so, we are brain cousins.

For instance, there is a health kick sweeping the nation.  I KNOW with all of my heart that it is something that has to happen. However, most of the industries left in this country are not the 'good for us' variety.  If we return to our humble beginnings, what happens to all the jobs?  If everyone gives up soda, what happens to coke jobs?  That's a ripple everyone will feel.  There are thousands of industries that support the soda industry.  The same with Wal-mart.  There are companies that employ 20-30 people who are paid well and their main and sometimes only customer is Wal-mart.  So, I cannot embrace the fad of returning to our roots because we really can't go back.  We are smarter as a society-but we no longer know how to survive.  My grandpa had generations of farming knowledge and that is why he was good at it.  He was used to working hard in the heat.  Hubby and I put out a garden every year and we are mostly embarrassed by how obvious it is that we neither like it or possess garden mojo of any kind.  If our family relied upon that garden to eat, we would surely perish.

See what I did there?  My mind goes from thinking I need to give up sodas to my family perishing from our inability to garden.  I can ripple effect things to death, because I THINK.  What saves me from the doom of my mind?  Joy and hope; two of the most beautiful words in the English language.  Two words that for me are synonymous with one big word-GOD.  You see, my thinker knows that we didn't just all end up here from nothing for nothing.  I KNOW I am created by a creator because I also create.  And just like that, the anxious, knotted stomach eases a little.  I don't have to keep the world spinning, someone bigger that me is in charge.  I do what I can to make the world a better place.  I love, work, think, write, learn, teach, and enjoy life to the fullest because there is something better ahead.  I don't know what it is, but I know it is truth.

God helps me stay balanced.  He keeps me stable.  The times in my life when I lost hope and joy were times when I doubted Him.  I got stressed out about not knowing what my next step was and overthinking all the things that could happen.  In a world full of conflict, scandal, and unrest, I am so glad to be leaning on something everlasting.