Thursday, July 18, 2013

Keepin It Real



Boy, would I love to write a post sometime this decade that gushes about how fabulous my life is!  Everything's looking up, my future is so bright I need shades, wine and roses, bowl of cherries, you get the picture.  I would love to be able to stay, "Stop! Enough with the blessings already! I can't take any more joy!"  I would love to say to my children (in this exact order), "One day you will grow up, go to college, have an exciting career, meet the guy of your dreams, have beautiful children, and live happily ever after; the end."  But, I can't really say that in good faith because my experiences have shaped my vision of the future, and if we're keepin it real, which ya know I do, the future looks hard as hell.  

I'm not trying to be a Debby Downer; honest, but my forecast of life in general is a whole lot of rain with just enough rainbows tossed in to keep you off the sauce.  Okay, that was seriously, Debby Downer.  Sometimes I look at all of my Facebook friends' postings and think, "Hmmm...maybe it's just me.  Maybe, they are all really happy, enjoying a life of barbeques, a game of touch football with the kiddos, inspirational quotes courtesy of Pinterest, and Sundays packed full of family togetherness." I wonder what would happen if I posted, "F*%$ me! I'm going to run away from home!"  How many likes would I get?  

I worry, in particular, about my babies.  Because they are so precious and innocent.  I, for one, do not want to be responsible for taking any of the light out of their eyes.  They have no concept of the problems they will face as they enter puberty, and then, adulthood.  All they know is that mommy and daddy love each other and them.  That God is good and takes care of us and everything that we need.  That they have nice friends, a nice house, and a big family full of people that adore them.  Oh, if only I could freeze this state of grace for them and place them in a little bubble!  

How can I prepare them for the harsh realities of this world?  I was thinking of writing a series of children's books with a fresh take on fairy tales; you know, make them a little more realistic.  Once upon a time, there lived a Queen, a King, and two princesses.  The Queen was fair and tenderhearted (me, of course) but she had high blood pressure from stress and saw a counselor for her generalized anxiety disorder.  The King was a kind and loving father, a heck of a hunter and gatherer, but worked too many hours and was exhausted and stressed the majority of the time. 

Nice, right?  Just sort of ease them into realistic expectations for the future! I'm kidding, but I do think that Walt Disney has really done a number on the female brain.  Hey, just look at the authentic, original Grimm fairy tales.  Those guys weren't holding any punches. The step sisters get parts of their feet hacked off, for God's sake!  And Rapunzel's guy ends up with his eyes gouged out...not quite the fairy tale ending in "Tangled," right?  I mean, do I need to even mention the whole cannibalism theme in Hansel and Gretel? Gross!

Like I said in my previous post, hope is hard for me.  Life for me today is living hour by hour, putting one foot in front of the other, and pushing ahead.  I have no earthly idea what's in front of me, and I try not to look too far behind me.  I try to take pleasure in the small blessings; the thumbprints that God leaves on my life.  Thanks, Lord, for finding me the perfect seat on the airplane the other day.  The conversation I had with my fellow traveler took my breath away.  She is this beautiful, smart, black woman in her fifties who just happened to be reading one of my favorite books of the Bible, Colossians (or anything written by Paul).  We talked about faith, her courage to leave an abusive marriage after thirty years, the strength it took to step out in faith and start over at 50, and finding her way back to the Lord through the pain.  She was a blessing to me that I will not soon forget.  

If we met in any other circumstances, I would like to think that we would become friends.  I am drawn to strong women, who have suffered and persevered, lost a battle or two, but lived to win the war.  I am drawn to women who tell it like it is, even if you don't like what they have to say.  I am drawn to women who will not shy away from controversy, but do not need to seek it out.  Maybe because I want to be like them? I admire people who choose to do things entirely on their own, but I will never be one of them.  My support system is everything to me and I pride myself on knowing when to ask for help because it is not easy.  

Right now, I could use a little help from my friends.  If you are a praying person, maybe you could pray for some healing for my family.  If you are a positive vibes kind of gal, maybe you could send some out into the universe for us.  We could use a little peace and calm in our lives.  Your happy thoughts and prayers are much appreciated.  I am grateful for every last one of you!  



 


 

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Lt. Dan and Me


Hi Friends! Long time no talk.  It's not that I've given up on blogging; not at all.  It's just that I've been a little lost.  Most of you know that my family has been through some life altering events over the course of the last few years. And you know what?  I think we've come out on top...perhaps, a little worse for wear, but so much stronger as family than I thought we would be.  We all know people who have suffered great losses or lived through traumatic events, don't we?  If you are like me, you've always looked at those folks and thought, "Wow.  They are so strong.  I could never survive something like that!  I'd be on the first paddy wagon to the crazy house if that awfulness showed up at my door!"  I am in awe of people who have lost someone they love dearly, for example, and just keep on truckin'.  Somehow, I always thought that if the bottom were to drop out, I would just cease to function. 

But this is not so!  Quite the opposite, in fact.  Regardless of how crappy or stressful life gets, the world just keeps on turning.  I find that to be incredibly comforting!   While, I know that life can be painful and the future will hold many more bumps and bruises along the way, I know this truth: I am strong.  People are resilient.  Nothing can keep me down for long.  Believe it or not, I just found this out about myself (slow learner).  This truth is a rock that I can stand on, a place to plant my feet firmly on the ground.  With God's grace, I will not only survive, but thrive again!  "There but for the grace of God, goeth I." 

I also learned that you should not tattoo inspirational mottoes onto your body because there will be a new one on Pinterest that you'll like next week.  

With all of this inner strength under my belt, I've had another realization.  Who you are at 18, is not any indication of who you will be at 34.  My counselor said today, "Ah, to be 34.  That is a really great age, isn't it?" He is Australian and everything he says sounds like he's reminiscing about the golden days of his youth Down Under.  He is right! Despite the crappy year, 34 is really pretty fabulous. It's young enough to have small children, but old enough to have complete ownership of your uterus and boobs if you so desire.  And I do! Whoo-hoo, no more procreation (sorry Mom and Dad)!  It's old enough to have worked at a job that you were really good at and young enough to decide that you would like to pursue a new career. It's old enough to have been humbled thoroughly and young enough to rebound from the hard stuff without any bitterness.  Ugh! To be 25 and think that you know it all...I'd rather have my impacted, wisdom teeth pulled again.  

Now, that the dust has settled, I am learning to be excited about life again.  It's been a really, really long time since I experienced excitement.  I am opening myself up to new career opportunities, new education, and new habits. I am not making any plans for the future because I still find myself with a spirit of fear concerning that four letter word, "hope."  Hope is super hard for me.  I have this irrational fear that if the universe catches me hoping, it will snatch up my dreams before they can materialize.  What can I say...it's a work in progress.  

The only unsettling piece of the puzzle is spiritual.  If you have read my blog for three or four posts, you know that my identity has been largely defined by my faith in God.  I cannot remember a time when I did not feel wholeheartedly connected to God through my faith in Jesus and His word.  I was so sure, so confident in the role that God plays in my life, my future, that I was almost prideful about it.  "Look at me!  Look what God has done for us!  He will do it for you too if you just believe!" Looking back, I realize that the box I have placed God in is quite small (you know, for the creator of the universe).  

I still believe in a God who gave his only son, to suffer on the cross and die for my sins.  I still believe that He is the greatest of healers and that His love is endless and perfect.  I just don't quite understand how I am supposed to relate to Him.  Do my prayers really change the course of events?  Or do they just change me?  Has everything already been predetermined anyway or is there room for change?  If we're all part of a perfect plan, what is the purpose of praying about events?  If you could type up a thesis on my theological questions ASAP that would be awesome.

My philosophical quandaries remind me of a moment I shared with a Holocaust survivor who spoke to my middle school class, years ago. We had just finished reading, Diary of Anne Frank, and my little heart was full of righteous indignation over the suffering of the Jewish people.  This kind, soft spoken, German man spoke to us youngsters about his awful ordeal as a Holocaust survivor during WWII and offered afterward to answer any of our questions.  I bravely (super shy) raised my hand and asked in a little voice, "Do you still pray to God after everything you've been through?" For a moment, he was silent and looked uncomfortable.  Then he said, "That's a little too philosophical for me. Next question?"  In that moment, I was wishing that the floor would just open up and swallow my seventh grade body! 

I realize now that he just didn't have the answers.  I don't have the answers either. And you know what?  I'm okay with that.  God is patient and merciful.  I believe that He will grant me the time I need to work these doubts out.  I imagine myself shaking an angry fist at the heavens in the midst of a storm (like Lt. Dan on the shrimp boat...Forest Gump, dude) and finally, the storm will pass and I'll hurl my body overboard and backstroke away, smiling.  It's a metaphor...just roll with it.  Hopefully, I won't be handicapped, wearing a wife beater, and working on a shrimp boat when I figure these things out.

But, like I said, I'm open to new possibilities! Preferably, ones that don't involve me living on small boat that smells like fish.