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Life's Little Lessons

"If you ask me what I came into this life to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud." – Emile Zola

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2018 marked the beginning of the worst year of my life. Could it have been worse? Indeed. That perspective and that perspective alone was a rope tethered to a deeply rooted tree that kept me from jumping off the edge when things looked bleak.

Month by month, looking back now, I watched an entire year of my existence become completely overshadowed by a grief so heavy and so dark that sometimes it felt completely impossible to bear its weight. But I did and I am here, emerging from the other side grateful, not for the experience but for the life lessons I learned from the experience.

And the experience itself is not what I want to share with you. In actuality, the experience serves no purpose and to revisit the events that led to me the very end of myself is mute. They only drudge up feelings in me that I have recently rendered unnecessary. They do not help me move forward or stay focused on where I am going. Note: I am not ignoring them, because believe me when I say they are still fully present, but I will not give them the power I did for thirteen longs months of my life.

As a writer, I kept writing through it. If you’d revisit some of my older blog postings from a year ago, I was more honest than some would have liked. I got the message loud and clear, though not said in these exact words, that if it’s not pretty, than it should not be public. So I created a secret blog and bore my heart there. It was in that secret, safe place, void of opinions that I wrote only for me and allowed myself to be raw and real, tattered and torn. But here, on Life’s Little Lessons…not so much.

And here is what I learned from it: When somebody hurts you, they do not have a say in how you walk it out.

My last post was July 7, 2018.

I checked myself into the hospital seven days later.

Afterwards, I danced around things that I wrote on Facebook to stay safe but those who could read between the lines did. I just stopped being direct and blatantly obvious by calling the kettle black because that’s what you do when you’ve been hurt. You cover up your bleeding wounds but here’s the thing, wounds still seep and ooze. They always find a way to escape the body because wounds don’t want to be concealed but healed. I realize now I was trying to find all these different angles to heal and process my pain instead of just being honest and allowing myself to be exactly where I was.

People pleasing…that’s another blog post I’ll save for later.

I was like a corpse trying to drag itself continually out of its grave instead of simply letting dead things lie so new things could be born.

So I could be.

I stayed in that grave for the entirety of 2018. Yep. Twelve long months, thirteen to be exact. I hid there because it was safe. It was miserable and lonely but I was growing attached to my pain, it was becoming familiar and known in a season filled and overflowing with confusion and change. I no longer wanted to place my feet on the path of uncertainty.

So I didn’t.

I didn’t want to talk about it anymore let alone write about. I only showed up when life mandated it and basically withdrew from my friends and family. The fact I have any left proves that God is Divine. I grew tired of questions like, “Hey. How are you doing?” because all I wanted to say was, “How the hell do you think I am doing?” 

But I had to put my game face on and run a business and feed people dinner so that answer never seemed appropriate because amidst my grief, the very death of what was and what could be, I needed to be appropriate. Always.

All around me, everyone’s lives kept on going. I envied their every-day-normalness and I hated my envy. So I stopped. I stopped engaging. I withdrew and hid because if I could not be found, I did not feel tempted to place the rotting corpse of my old life up against theirs and compare the two.

Looking back now, this is what I learned:

Grief is a bitch. It doesn’t care who you are or what you’ve lost. It is non-discriminatory and unsympathetic. There is no way around it. You must go through it.

There are days that I still hide. Fact. There are days that are hard even though I am growing comfortable with hard days. They are what they are, mere moments in time that no longer stay but there are days I cannot talk my mind into believing that. 

I looked death in the face this past year. Literally. From it, I learned to say “Have at it” because if my circumstances were not going to change, then I would. I would be reborn. At times that choice didn’t seem fair, but then I realized choosing not to learn and grow was also a choice. I have more to go but with awareness and increasing fortitude, I’m emerging from the pit. It was never a place to loathe but to embrace.

Because truth is, there were things in me that needed to die and for years I wondered what it would take for their death to become reality. Now I know.

Loss.

And with loss comes letting go.

I got what I secretly been wondering for.

So even though remnants remain, my slate is clean. I actually had a thought the other day that randomly popped into my head, a thought that went like this, “I love my life.”  It made me smile the moment I recognized that I had thought it. Love my life? Like this? Yes. I choose to keep evolving and learning better so I can do better. There are days that are messy because old mindsets reemerge because the scars are still tender but I’m able to identify them for what they are, call them by name, and tell them where to go, more so than I was ever able to before.

I’m learning to own my shit. To be accountable and say I am sorry for what I am responsible for. It keeps me out in the open, my heart beating, so I don’t retreat and hide under mounds of guilt or shame for long periods of time.

So long story short, hiding is needed friends. Do not be ashamed or afraid of it. It is a place that you cannot help but visit. There is no detour. Your wounds are painful, like a bad burn that leaves sores which are raw to the touch. They leave you gun-shy as you grapple with trust and faith but I can assure, if you make the time to heal, you do. And no one but you knows the timing of that process. You need to heal from the inside out and only you know what that is to look like.

What I do know is that the Spirit of God is good. He can handle your questions. He can take on your anger and pursues your apathetic and wounded heart. He walks towards you when you walk away and at night when you cry yourself to sleep, He is kind, gentle and embraces you with tender care. In the morning, He whispers “Arise. Come out come out because I know where you are,” and His faithfulness will overwhelm you because He is patient on the days where you think you want to try but just aren’t quite ready to.

He knows that tomorrow is another day to try again.

Hiding was never meant to be a place that you call Home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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when Easter isn’t all it’s cracked up to be

It’s Easter and it was an off day from the start. The dog ran away (again) and everything on the inside of me was done with his antics and officially didn’t care if he ever returned home. I was not in the mood. We fought briefly over going to Church and when I was there, I had a hard time being as awe-struck as those around me and found myself loathing the hype of the Holiday that exalts Jesus one day and not the next. I forgot to fill and hide the baskets till my youngest asked where they were and sadly no one (myself included) was all that excited about taking a family picture so I took pictures of the puppy instead.

Middle places are hard. Foreign lands are rough. If you haven’t been where you are now at, you can feel like a fish out of water. I secretly wished all day that Jesus would come along my shore in His boat and scoop me up in His net before I exhausted every last breath I had left inside of me because breathing has been laborious.

I went about my day being a lesser version of the self I know I can be. This put together Mom who has all her baskets lined up in a row. This in-step-with-Jesus-praise-be-to-God woman. Today I wasn’t, the reality is I haven’t been and I don’t know how to get back to her. I can’t seem to find her lately and I swear if someone tries to tell me how I might not only cry but scream and pelt eggs filled with candy at them from the egg hunt I just didn’t have the energy for.

But the great and wonderful thing about Easter is this…

Jesus says I don’t have to try to get back to her.

Easter is for people everywhere, yes.

But today Easter was especially for me.

If I have ever experienced first hand the finished work of the cross, it was today. In what feels like BLAH. In what feels like muddling through mire and muck. In what is tasteless and listless…

When I don’t feel like it, He literally expands Himself into my gaps. When I question or just stop questioning all together, He IS regardless and doesn’t just negate where I’m at or tries to drag me out of my slump I’d call an awfully large pit, He sits in it with me.

So when significant Holidays aren’t all that and then some, there’s things called grace, mercy, forgiveness and love.

Mounds of love.

This is what Easter is all about, right?

the invitation 

I sat down at the table a little nervous. I never really had a conversation with her past surface things and quick helios in passing and here I was, guaranteed a whole hour with my new friend.

And I just knew we would be friends.

She asked me how I was and I knew what the “right” answer should be. I’m “great” was on the verge of jumping off my tongue and out of my mouth but instead I said, “I’m ok. I know I should say I’m better and I am but…”

And my heart opened up from there and off we went.

At the end of our hour lunch, I felt like I had known her way longer than our sixty minute chat. I think that’s what being vulnerable does. Once you get past the point of feeling all naked and afraid, you reveal your raw and edgy heart and can actually begin relating to another human being that goes far beyond experiential.

Heart connections are real and they happen instantaneously. They don’t need worked for or kept up with. You just show up and fully engage the person before you, whatever…however.

Sometimes we go thorough life like we dodging bullets or gallopping through some obstacle course that we maneuver poorly. It’s during those times, and we all go through them, that it is somewhat comforting not being alone. Like fully. Wether they relate or not or been there done that…it is a breath of fresh air that sweeps through a white padded room to have a friend accompany you on your journey.

If you ever say yes to the coffee or the lunch, to the play date or the run, show up for more than what you are invited to. It’s more than a coffee or lunch date. It’s an opportunity to be your realest self. It’s an opportunity for you to make space for someone else to exhale and breathe in some fresh air their lungs desperately crave.

I learned a lot over a plate of food and I am so thankful I took a risk and showed up me. I didn’t show up messy or all broken nor did I show up all perfectly put together and slightly untouchable. I showed up right where I am and I am grateful that I did. I made a new friend and we moved beyond being mere acquaintances with a similar circle of friends.

Life’s Little Lesson: Show up. Be authentic, honest and real.

Do all the above afraid if need be.

The Question We Don’t Ask

It’s one word seldom asked. It is a sentence all in itself but rarely spoken.

WHY?

Good question.

Why have we stopped asking the good and needed question?

Singular.

I think if you find yourself asking this one questions, you may not need to ask another.

Here’s why…

Opinions are much like assholes, everyone indeed has one. Now before you (the reader) potentially take offense to my language, ask yourself if that phrase is true. I bet all the money that I don’t have you say it is.

You may have thoughts on my language choice. You may even have thoughts all together on me if you are lucky enough to know me beyond anything I ever write or share publicly or personally with you. And it may sound like a great thing to sit me down and say, “Hey. This is what I think about what you are doing or how you are living or thi is how I think you are feeling.”

It’s not.

If you start there…before you start here with my heart…you will miss out and most likely, if I am not in the best of places…

Shut me down.

I know I am not the only one.

WHY? 

Because I have done this TO others. I have interjected my thoughts and opinions FIRST and the ramifications have been deadly.

And there is no influence when the doors are closed.

Here is what I am discovering from experience and much introspection:

When this happens, my heart often feels judged before I have even had a chance to share it WITH you. And I do not know about you, but if you want me to share my heart with you AFTER THE FACT…

Godspeed.

WHY am I sharing any of this?

Because it just may be one of the very most important things I have ever realized about hearts and communication, therefore relationship building.

Asking questions is a great conversation starter. It shows you are trying to understand and your digging shows me you are actually interested IN me instead of just giving your opinion or asserting your potential need to be right. It also may even help me dig myself. Maybe your question is one I have not even thought to ask. WHO KNEW!

I say this to you.

I say this to me.

WHY?

Because relationships are pretty damn important. So are our hearts. There is nothing an open heart cannot do. It can accomplish anything it sets its mind to. So rather than pelting each other with our opinions or worse, our assumptions and judgements, of one another, how about if we start with a question.

WHY?

If we say we care and if we mean well deep down in our hearts, it’s as good a place an any to begin.

And end.

Make Room 

The perfect morning to me is a cup of coffee, the couch and a book and time void of hustle and rush. Slow. Slow makes it truly, truly perfect and as Chief Hopper says in the very first episode of Stranger Things

“MORNINGS ARE FOR COFFEE AND CONTEMPLATION.”

And this morning I found myself having it all. The coffee, the couch and book…with plenty of time to get lost in some thought or some conversation and they walk right past, stuck in their morning routine, just the same.

“Come sit with me for a bit,” I say and I make room on the couch. I want more than just the normal Sunday Morning. I want their presence.

I’ve been thinking a lot this week about PEOPLE. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Isn’t that Christmas? I think of people in particular…their role in my life, my role in theirs and our influence on one another. I’ve been asking a lot of questions, gleaning a few answers and in between doing a lot of soul-searching.

There is more to life then living from here to there. There is a place in between.

In the past few days I’ve sat with people when it wasn’t convenient or easy and through it, I’ve realized once more how important it is to give each other our presence. We all want to be seen and heard and sometimes, most times, I liken all of humanity to the old stainless steel tea-pot that sits on my gas stove: We take time to warm up. We don’t want hurried along like we are an appointment on someone’s calendar or an errand they are running that can eventually be crossed off their list.

But sadly, most times, that is what we get.  Remnants of someone’s leftovers, their seconds, their hurry, their less than best.

Looking back now, I can see where that rush has caused more than a problem or two. Lack of presence places Constance where intact should be forged and before you know it, it’s easy to feel like distrusting strangers.

I think it’s the people in my every day crazy, when things aren’t calm and slow, that I’ve needed to pay closest attention to. The ones I’m most likely to whiz right by or take for granted have needed my solid and sturdy legs to remain strong yet bendy so I could ask simple and basic questions.

**Like**

“How are you?”

How many times do we dig our heels in and wade through the awkward silence for their answer? Their REAL answer.

Not many enough.

Conversely, last night as I was putting on my shoes, a random thought popped into my head. I thought of one person in particular, one I’ve been giving too much time and attention to though they havn’t been anywhere in my travels, no where in my circles but they indeed have been taking up space in the thoughts inside my head. As I laced up my last shoe, I didn’t think but more RESOLVED that they were a common denominator in too many of my here-and-now-life-problems. Too much of what I have rolling on the inside of me has their name attached and just like that… I made the decision to take them out of my equation.

And I realized I can do that.

Just. Like. That.

I’ve been giving them too much space through no fault of their own and in the big picture, it’s been frustrating. I’ve allowed their influence to tip some scale inside my life in a less than life-giving way and I refuse to carry them with me into the New Year.

I choose to no longer give them a seat on the couch that is housed in a room within my head. I stood tall after tying my shoes and within moments, showed them to the door. I don’t need to think about them or talk about them because to do so, places an unhealthy, unbalanced importance where it shouldn’t and afterwards, I’ve wondered WHY I’ve ever given away such a powerful choice.

And the sad but wonderful thing about this moment, in the midst of shoes and laces is this…

My resolve has nothing to do with an actual person as first assumed. Sure there’s a name but in the grand scheme of things, it could be a hundred names. They were merely just a representation of a festering wound and I think I needed someone, essentially anyone, to blame.

And since blaming does no good.

Here’s the door.

Be free.

What they represented to me has to go. I need to make room in my heart for vision and hope and joy and laughter and I don’t want to make time for the incessant chatter things past try to hold me to.

We need to free up space friends for real people. Not for the stupid things people do or our assumptions about them. Not for past hurts that keep replaying like a broken record. Not for our offenses or the sordid scenarios that we play and then rewind again and again in our head. Sometimes it IS as simple as refusing to give those thoughts an audience and if it means for a while that the name that’s attached goes unmentioned so you can quit your bad habit, then let it be so. Go cold turkey. Do whatever you can to think favorably again.

It’s not about cutting our losses. We need to look at the rooms within our homes and examine what is filling them. Sometimes it gets a little crowded with stuff and I don’t know about you, but if I’m going to have a full house, I’d rather have it packed with presence. People presence. Not poor thinking OF people presence because at the end of the day, negative attention is STILL attention and takes up space. An awful lot of it.

Friends I’m short on time and like you, I want to make my time count. I want my presence count. If I have any resolutions this year it is this:

want the person standing in front of me to walk away knowing they were heard and seen **THAT THEY WERE LOVED** and I want my thoughts to count.

I don’t have people to waste. I don’t have thoughts OF people to waste.

Neither do you.

the places I cannot afford to visit 

In my prior life, I was a sales representative  for a company that awarded its performance team with luxurious trips. I could sit here and name all the different countries I’ve traveled to and all the five-star resorts I’ve stayed at but I won’t. I will say this, they all have something in common:

On my own, they are not places I could afford to visit.

Fast forward to this life, not a lot has changed. I still travel but lately it’s been to military bases to see my kids and I rarely frequent airports and seldom hail cabs but one thing transfers from one life to the next and remains consistent and true: I still can’t afford to visit certain places.

Location is just about everything, ask any realtor. Location location location. Is it high traffic, high population…what is it’s draw that determines its value and worth? To each person, that answer may be different. What I am looking for may be different from what grabs your attention, that’s why it’s so important to ask yourself what’s important to you. If you don’t, you’ll end up somewhere that’s important to someone else and you’ll find yourself in a location that is miserable at best.

Ever been to the beach with someone who hates the sun and the sand? Miserable.

Our daughter called today from the Navy’s boot camp and it’s been over a month since I’ve seen her. As we all stood in the kitchen, gathered around my phone, I felt sadness taking up space within the room. I not only felt it within me, but I heard it in her voice. It’s Christmas. Her brother, who is a Marine, is Home for a short leave, and it’s her first Holiday Season away from us. The phone call was a happy one despite the underlying sadness but when the call was over, I turned to my husband and cried.

I felt sad for several hours afterwards and I realized my location wasn’t really the best. I was slipping, and my mood was beginning to match the weather…cold and dreary.

As a feeler, I often hole myself up in some shack, dodging bullets and trying to stay out of the enemy’s line of fire in the worst parts of town. I truly pick some of the worst locations to camp out in, within myself. These shacks have given me the illusion of safety even though the foundation was crumbly and I knew it. If safety’s my goal, I most certainly have found myself hiding out in some of the most unsafe locations.

My mind or my feelings left unchecked tend to wander and create scenarios that aren’t even accurate and I end up assuming the worst. I do not recommend this. AT ALL. It’s really not fair to you because it creates such heartache and agony and it most certainly is not fair to the other person. Want to talk judgement? Assume something, anything, about another and there you have it.

I’m recognizing the feeling I have are normal…it is more than ok to be sad. I AM allowed to miss my daughter. I AM allowed to be angry over situations. I AM allowed to not agree.

It’s when I choose to stay sad and angry. It’s when I choose to care more about being right than being in relationship that gets me into trouble.

Can I really afford to visit these locations?

No. The answer is vehemently no. I cannot afford to. Visiting leads to wanting to stay. There is comfort in old friends and sometimes, hanging around old friends leads to holding onto old habits…I have to choose the higher thought.

So yesterday, as much as I missed our daughter and as much as I FELT sad because she is not home, I chose to think of how proud I am of her. She recently passed all her physical fitness tests. She is strong in both mind and body. I focused on all the friends she’s making and how lucky they are becuase she is packed full of maturity and wisdom and loves havng new expereinces through people. I chose to think of any other thought except the sad ones and slowly but surely, my mood shifted.

I’ve been practicing this in every area of my life, not just with my children. I’ve been packing up my bags and (sometimes begrudgingly) putting my feet on another path even though my thoughts and feelings tell me it’s ok to stay in my shack because it’s justified. I recognize there are places within myself I want to go, but they are places…memories or thoughts, that elicit negative feelings and pretty much put me in a bad mood. I want to bring healing there. Why? Because I know Jesus does.

I absolutely believe He chooses the higher…

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” – Isaiah 55:8-9

I’ve often said that perspective is a superpower and it is. One of the greatest revelations of my life is: I can choose my thoughts and think things on purpose. What the hell? Did you know you are THAT powerful? In other words, I don’t have to just think about whatever falls into my mind. Just because I think it doesn’t mean it is true. This was a life-changing revelation for me because as Proverbs 23:7 says, As he [a man] thinks in his heart, so is he. SeriouslyWhere the mind goes, the man follows.

Friends, there ARE places you and I both cannot afford to visit. Quick jaunts here and there can be exciting and they can feel good and right but be careful about dwelling there too long, especially without proper perspective.

Merry Christmas! Choose to think the very best this Holiday Season of the people in your life. Choose to forgive and forget.

Choose to love…

You may not always want to but I think you’ll find if you don’t, you’ll find yourself in a place you ideally don’t want to be.

Set your minds and keep them set on what is above (the higher things… (Colossians 3:2 AMP).

 

 Upside Down

Rejection.

I think I’ve battled it since the womb and I’ve wondered if it’s the first thing people see when they looked at me. Has it been something I’ve hidden behind or has it been a shiny little pin I’ve worn on my lapel and I’ve used it as an excuse for the things I’ve done?

Probably both.

My parents dated in high school and my mother was a year older than my father which made him a Senior when she announced she was pregnant with me. He was honorable and gave her a little ring, which I store in a little wooden box in a chest in my room since their divorce, and I choose to believe they went in, full of hope, that a baby would save them.

But rejection was rooted deep in my family and everyone had their own baggage long before I was born. Unfortunately, as much as I love them both, their baggage became mine and sooner or later I had my own and before I knew it, everything was jumbled and it became very difficult to sort what was theirs, what was mine and what was ours.

I took it all.

Fast forward to my own marriage and here we are, all jumbled. Maybe we are normal. Maybe jumbling takes place in every marriage. Maybe every couple has their share of heart aches and breaks. Maybe it’s part of being human and being in human relationships. I am not really sure but one thing I am sure of is this:

I have continually allowed myself to feel rejected based off other people’s responses TO me. If it’s not what I had hoped for or what I had envisioned it would be…if their words did not match their actions and I found myself in the presence of a good talker rather than a good walker, I’d allow the perceived lack **of whatever** to pretty much obliterate my identity. I become worthless and not enough. Not valued. Not really liked or loved. I essentially allowed man to take the place of God and I’d worship the opinion and the approval of flesh and blood rather than The One who already says I am…

And I tell myself it’s easy. Too easy. “Anybody who has been through what I’ve been through within the span of my short life would be looking through the same clouded and muddled lens.” As soon as I have that thought, I realize I’m double-minded and rejection IS the shiny pin I wear on my lapel. I use it as an excuse. Rejection has been an old friend and as much as I loathe it, I don’t know how to live without it.

So over the last two weeks, I’ve been waking up each day choosing to intentionally posture myself to see how God sees.

How God sees me.

“Who am I?”

I need reminded because I’ve obviously forgotten.

I think of Jesus and I think of one of my favorite verses in scripture:

Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

This is WHO HE is. This is ME.

I read further and know I’ve been thinking like a child. I looked up the scripture “Do unto others and they do unto you,” and all I find is this: 

“Treat others the same way you want them to treat you.” Luke 6:31

Damn.

I think again of Jesus. My thoughts always go back to Him and I realize that deep within me, what I’m really longing for is to become Love. Not just a little bit here or there. Not just in pieces and parts or to have characteristics of but to BE…

So I give up my childish ways and I show up and it hurts. It hurts more than I thought it would.  It makes me feel naked and exposed. It feels all upside down. It sears my flesh and feels like salt on an open wound and it is not always reciprocated and as much as I want to adjust myself and alter WHO I AM based off of how someone responds to me, I do not. I choose to believe I’m worth someone’s time and attention because I know that I am and that knowing allows me to give freely without strings.

Until I stop reacting to my circumstances and start responding to the love of Jesus, my circumstances will not change.

And I know it.

Don’t stop showing up and being you based off of how people respond to you. How you love anything is how you love everything for love is a quality of relationship more than a statement about the worthiness or deservedness of the object loved. -Richard Rohr

All In or All Out 

In the moment when things feel BIG, I realize I play sides. I draw an imaginary line down the middle and choose. I’m either all in or all out, you cannot make me straddle.

My heart is one-hundred percent on board, all hands on deck and prepared to go down with the ship if necessary.

Or.

My heart’s not even going to wait around for a life boat because it has already bailed, as in already jumped overboard having believed it’s chances of survival are better left in unknown waters with man eating sharks than on aboard in dangerous territory.

Two extremes I know, but through a series of unfortunate events, I’ve come to this brutal and beautiful realization:

I feel safe or I don’t.

I feel hopeful or I don’t.

I tend to feel a lot of things. Which is great right? Not always.

I recently felt so unsafe in a recent situation that I unfriended my own husband on social media. Facebook friend, not having it. I feel very much like a child even typing these words but I will own it because I did it and there isn’t any sense in pretending I didn’t. If you want real life, here you go.

All in” means my heart feels safe with you and “all out” means my heart doesn’t and if it doesn’t, I don’t want you to have any access to me. None. Zero. Zip.

It’s very much like living in high school and re-enacting the drama that unfolds on a daily basis in the locker room or during third period math class. I can’t even believe I did it but in the heat of the moment, I felt I had every right and justification to bail. I jumped ship as a means to protect myself from my enemy. I have since apologized and friended him again, which he accepted, THANK GOD, and hopefully someday we will have a good laugh but in the meantime, it really showed me my heart.

Ouch. My hurting heart.

It showed me how majorly unprotected I felt and really, it’s no one else’s job to protect my heart but mine. After all, my life verse is: “Above all else, guard YOUR heart, for all of life flows from it.” – Proverbs 4:23

I’ve got work to do.

It showed me how majorly untrusting of the Lord I was in that moment. It showed me how I was looking at my husband as my enemy first and foremost instead of seeing him for who he is created to be in Jesus. It also showed me how much I tend to go by my feelings.

As a empath, I have the capacity to understand or feel what another person is experiencing from within the other person’s frame of reference which is wonderful. I have a lot of very deep and meaningful relationships and connections  because I am such a deep-hearted feeler but because my heart feels so deeply, I also find I only have two switches:

On and Off.

I know I need to sit and process this further but for now, IS there an in between? Is there a place for one’s heart to reside in the middle of some scale? Yes. I know there is because I have met a lot of lukewarm people but I am not one of them. I am an extremist. It seems really right when my heart is all the way on and open…

It feels like Jesus.

So word to the wise, let your feelings come and let your feelings go as you can. Allow the storm to settle before you quickly make rash and unwise plans to jump ship head first into waters that most likely will drown you based off of how you feel. Seriosuly, whoever wants to have a dinner conversation that starts of with, “Hey. How was your day? By the way, please pass the corn, when I was really mad at you the other day, I blocked you. We are still married but no longer “friends. Do we have bread?” Doing things like that may feel good and may seem right in the moment because protection can’t be wrong. Right?

The question should be; WHO are you protecting yourself from?

It might not be from who you think.

What You Are Looking For?

For those of you who are friends with me, you then know that our two oldest kids recently enlisted and our serving in our country’s military. And for those of you who don’t, you may have been spared because I am THAT Mom. I never thought I would be but I am and it is my mother’s fault. Her endless championing and cheering me on is in my DNA. She always showed up to everything and was proud…REGARDLESS. I hope I can be even half of who she is.

When our son went to bot camp for the Marines, he was lucky enough to leave on the same day as three other boys from our town…all the same age and all from the same school. And because he was lucky, as his mother that made me lucky too because I instantly had three new friends. MoM’s, or now known as Mother of Marines. The day they all left for Parris Island, we exchanged phone numbers and instantly began a text group where we cried together and asked questions and shared what we knew. The first month, maybe two of boot campy was the worst for me. I remember crying all the time and praying more than that. I knew what the Drill Instructors were most likely having to do to make a Marine out of my son and thought of it made my heart sink on a regular basis. My but MoM’s…they were my lifeline.

During this time, I also joined a Facebook group specifically for family and friends of young men and women at Parris Island all graduating on the same date and in the same Company. It was such a helpful group, the administrators were all MoM’s or Marine Veterans themselves and they shared so much helpful information. Another lifeline.

BUT.

There was this one MoM. I just couldn’t even…

Friends, it was painful.

Every time her face came through my feed, my brain hurt. I’m just being honest. I did not want to think ill thoughts of her but I did. AND I LOVE MOST ALL PEOPLE.

Most.

She talked about her life. She made videos about what she learned at Church. She shared the most ridiculous Meme’s and talked incessantly about nothing to do with The Marines. It drove me crazy because this was a support group/information page to help families through boot camp and here she was using this page as her own personal platform.

Long story short, it ended sort of badly for a bit. I posted and asked publicly for clarification on the group’s purpose and I became to some the party pooper of the group. Militant? Yes, I can be obviously but she was majorly breaking the rules!!!! So in the end, TO SURVIVE, I blocked her after she made fun of our boys going through the gas chamber. She thought it was hilarious that they would get sick and wig out and was CONVINCED they would ALL laugh one day.

Can I just tell you how much I prayed THAT day?

The whole thing has never really sat well with me till recently. First off, I do not enjoy blocking people and making them nonexistent to me. It actually bothers me quite a bit and I am not quite sure why but it does. Second, I needed to better understand, besides being ANNOYED, why this woman rubbed me the wrong way. Seriously folks, the other 900 members of this group all kept it professional. It was about our recruits, our questions, needing help, wanting prayer or having a bad day because we missed our kids. It was not about US and about OUR HAIR or about the WEEKEND TRIP WITH OUR HUSBANDS. 

One day last week I was washing dishes. My hands were in the sink and all of a sudden THIS dropped into my consciousness, “She wanted friendship. You had friendship and wanted information but she wanted friendship.”

I have stared with a blank look before, many a time, but never have I felt I stared so blankly. Like a street pigeon at the sink blinking a way, that was me.

It was true. I had my MoM’s. I had my family and my friends who were amazing. I literally got on that page to get as much information as I could since I was new to this whole thing and I was terrified and excited and I was like a sponge absorbing it all. I did not NEED anything more than what I wanted, at least not from that page and the people in it. However, her need was different.

Sometimes our prayers don’t really get answered right away. Sometimes the revelation we seek comes to us at the most random times, like at the sink when your hand are immersed in hot, soapy water. But they always do and that day I prayed when my son was experiencing the gas chamber, I prayed to see her heart because I was so frustrated at the sight of it. I had stopped long ago seeing her for WHO she was because she became a thorn in my flesh that I could not quite get out. I didn’t really want to see her heart, but I knew with my head it was the right thing to pray and obviously now looking back, this was a me thing and had nothing to do with poor !^%&#)!  *(**%@

(Names have been change to protect the innocent or maybe characters have replaced letters to mask my swear words. Take your pick).

I am convinced Jesus showed me heart, that she longed for friendship and a family and lo and behold, the Marine Corps is just that. Did she go a little too far? Yes. Unquestionably. But her heart longed, it craved to be seen and to be heard. When I saw all of this last week, I became softer around the edges where I had been a little rough.

 

But the LORD said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or at the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”  – 1 Samuel 16:7

 

It is easy to get caught up in what people say or do, sometimes I even get tripped up over words never spoken…things I THINK should be said but aren’t. I know not to focus on what I see and hear but my flesh often burns if I don’t so I give in to make myself temporarily feel better. But is a temporary band-aid because heart knows better.

I know what I was looking for by joining that group in that particular season of my life and here I am, walking along without any other military Mom’s to cry with or text or ask questions as our daughter is at boot camp for the Navy. She left all alone almost two weeks ago so Navy support groups ARE my lifeline for connection. I find myself being a bit more friendlier, a bit more personal and not so information focused. There is a purpose and a season for both. I know what I need and I hope in the future, I can remember to look at the heart of person I just don’t get, that I would seek to understand them better, even if we are both looking for different things.

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