Peace out.

I think I might throw up before this is all said and done.
You know that sweaty hands, shakey in the mid-section, air too thin to breathe place...that's me.
I feel this way because I am about to tell you what I really think.
And I am going to try to do it without any snark.

I might hurt myself.

I have been so distressed by so many things in life lately. Most of the distress comes from facebook. that seems shallow but  it is what it is. Facebook is my connection to the outside world. If I get off of facebook I have my sweet little family. They do not distress me.
I orchestrate my life to be as stress free as possible. I do not watch the news. I do not have tv. I do not follow the trending links on my computer. I live in a quiet little neighborhood where I know all my neighbors by name. the clerks in the stores know my name because I have a set routine and I almost never wander from it. I am a creature of habit and I crave peace.
I do not live in such a way that you would think that I was anything other than the most mousey, complacent, Jesus loving, mini-van driving, homeschooling mommy. I wear long skirts and birkenstocks, people.. I have no tattoos.
My cuss words up until a few months ago consisted of crap, and gosh.
(I am learning to use the word ass...as in big ass...dumb ass...asinine...)
You think I am being snarky but I am dead on serious.

this is my outside. My insides bubble a little hotter.
Inside, I am a stick it to the man, go against the status quo, rage against the storm, hippy.
If society welcomes it then I will most assuredly suspect it as a matter of principle.
I am cynical.
I am short tempered toward anyone or anything that displays a sheep mentality.
I am arrogant and prejudiced against individuals who refuse to think for themselves.
I judge.
but I probably won't show you these things unless you walk closely enough with me to see that I raise my right eyebrow a tiny bit and my pupils blow out when I get angry.
(my husband told me this...I thought I had it hidden)

I would probably tell you that in general I don't like people. As in plural. People. Groups. But I do like people. Persons. Individuals. There is this thing in my heart that loves to hear a person with their story. It affects me. they affect me. So much so that my heart will melt and I can slide into a depression over their pain. I actually have to guard my heart against this.
Unless... unless that person and their pain is treading on someone else. then I tend to go with the underdog. If i find that you are messing with someone and being mean,
 well I will think about sticking my foot so far up your a......you get my drift.

So this distress on Facebook...it comes from my friends. I have spent my life in the circles of conservative, evangelical, American, chirstians.  my friends...yes, they are mostly church going, bible thumping, Jesus defending pains in the... neck.
(you can see why I am learning to use the word ass...just so many applications)
Again..no snark intended.

My friends have been very vocal about the issue of gay marriage. they have made no bones about speaking for God and making sure that everyone knows how  He feels about those gays getting married. I don't mind them having their opinions. Truly. It is actually quite safe for that christian group to call out the sin of that gay group. I don't really like groups anyway so have at it. Even if it bothered me a little bit I could just not think about it too much and let it pass on by.
But then something began to nag at my heart.
As people started talking more about this issue, especially about the similar issue and decision to let gay members into the boy scout organization it started to come closer and closer to home.
My home.
My children running around as my mom friends talked about this horrible ungodly state of society.
My children listening with their super power hearing as the words and feelings flung hate and intolerance around the playroom.
My children assuming that I felt like that too because I didn't say anything.
It began to nag my heart that I was teaching by example and the example I was setting was one of tolerance for injustice.

If I am going to teach tolerance...it ain't gonna be centered around keeping my peace while people get trampled in the self-righteous dust from the journeys of a thousand ignorant proof-texters.
Nothing in that sentence was loving. Or tolerant.

I honestly feel that if you think that you have a right to keep the gay community in its place by labeling them with very biblical names like sinner and fornicator you might as well take up using the word nigger.
Take that any direction you want.

I started looking at my children and wondering what would change for me if one of them grew up and told me he was gay. What would happen to my heart if one of my precious children came to me in fear and loathing because he was terrified to tell me about something he had been burdened with since he was big enough to realize that he did not fit in with his brothers. What if my words and actions laid down a foundation of hate that kept my child, the love of my life, in a place of anguish because he knew that my principles could not allow us to fellowship in heart even tho I said "I love you" every day.
I think that I decided right then to change my behavior. I decided to stop looking at this group, and start looking at individuals. when I did that my heart began to break.
I realized that not speaking but letting the vocal majority have their say was the same, in the hearts of my children, as my agreement.
As a grownup I know that silence is not always consent...but to a kid...it is the same.

I realized that my silence was actually telling my children, that finger pointing christian position is ok. It is right. I agree.
Sometimes, you need to speak up.

I have friends that are gay. to my knowledge none of them are wanting to get married. but I guarantee you that their christian walk will get easier the minute christianity as a whole (or enough individuals that love completely) can look at them with the same respect they give that elder who recently "confessed" his porn addiction.
And this is a big stupid ass-umption on my part because I just lumped them in with all the detestable sexually impure...and that is really really offensive to many of my friends. I am sorry for that.

My point is respect. Looking at people and seeing their worth. Not their sin...real or perceived.

christians have genuine fear about opening a pandora's box if we let gay people get married. I think that if you want to go with that fear you need to accept that we started that release of mischief the moment we condoned interracial marriage. I am sure there were very sincere individuals that thought such things would surely lead to the degradation of the nation. We do have a black president now. One thing leads to another. I am positive that giving equal rights led to the position we are in today.
I see how this makes people feel very very afraid.
If we give equality to the gay people we are in fact starting down a road where more and more things will be accepted as a normal part of life.
Yes, that is called social evolution. We progress. We move on. Not all the next things are positive, but we can and should deal with those as they come up instead of crying like a bunch of babies about the sharks in the water...there are bridges...and boats to be had for this crossing.
I have heard arguements about how this could lead to child endangerment. Sex with animals. Polygamy. Muslem domination.
Like that isn't happening already??

I think I have talked ad nauseum about if this is sin or not. My stance...it. just. doesnt. matter. It doesnt matter what I think about it. I need to see my married gay neighbors as neighbors. I need to see them as persons to be respected.
I might need to face my upbringing and tell it simmer down.

what is the alternative? Get as christian uppity as you want...the reality is that the gay lifestyle will be soon be accepted as a "normal" part of American society. You can either avert your eyes and cover your innocent children as you mumble things about detestable to God or you can learn to look in love at two people showing affection.
Stone me now.
I am not talking about anything perverse. Just a kiss...or a hug...you don't have to see that as disgusting no matter how you feel about what is happening in the privacy of their home.
Feel free to teach your children right and wrong as you see it. But you cannot continue to go through life trying not to throw up around people who do things you disagree with.

Let me try and come at this from a different direction. A very personal direction.
I have women in my life that live together as roommates. they are heterosexual. Not gay. they love each other immensely. Sisters. Sometimes people think they are gay.
There is no sex going on!
do I want society, and the church, to look down on my friends because they think they are gay?
Actually, society probably accepts them without much question except to wish they would just come out already.
they are not gay.
there are probably those in the church that pray for them in their gayness.

Now, for this next part, let's pretend that my friends are gay. 
Let's take these two friends who have lived together for longer than many of my heterosexual friends have been married...lets say that one of them gets sick...the other one wants to be able to know about her friends condition but she cannot because she is not the "spouse".
Or, one friend wants to give a large sum of money to the other. the other one will be heavily taxed on this gift...but not if they are married.

Just a stupid thought...I think that legally you should be able to declare anyone as your "significant other" to recieve all the benefits of a spouse.
If you even begin to whine about commitments and mocking the marriage system I will most certainly shove the divorce statistics right up your a....

As far as these women getting respect from the christian community, I don't know why they would even care any more. But let's say they do care deeply. they love Jesus. they do not think that their committed relationship is wrong in His eyes. they want to live in peace. together. and in their community.
I think that the church has every right to judge them and hold them accountable to every word of the bible.
As soon as the preacher looses 50lbs. And the nursery ladies stop gossiping. And the home groups stop hosting margarita night. And the deacons stop lying about when that church picnic will be rescheduled. And has anyone see our headscarves...cuz really.
Ok..that might have been snarky.

Until everyone in the church is ready to get real with their schniggt there should be no more telling each other what God wants.
Unless, you can do it in love. On an individual basis. when they ask if you would speak into their lives.
Otherwise...shut it.

I am afraid of 1 Corinthians. Paul talks about turning people over to satan. That scares me.
but you know what...I think that maybe Paul was full of it.
Snark that is.
I think that he was very very very tired of listing out the sins. I think he talks to these folks like a frustrated father and says..."I already told you this, why can't you deal with it?"
He talks about sexual immorality. And he lists it with a lot of other things. And he says the mysterious thing...he tells them to turn that stinky sinner over to the devil and let God judge him.
Seems harsh. Again...I suspect he was being a little snarky in his sincerity. that poor sinner was better off being put out than living within the bounds of the church and their righteous judgement.

I KNOW that is going to rile you and I am ok with that.

All I am saying is that we don't understand. And until we do, we might want to be a little more quiet.

I know I have not begun to cover all the points in this issue. I really just wanted to talk about a few that get me riled up. I hope that you see that I am giant enormous bag of wind. I don't have it all figured out.
I just want you to think about some things with me. Don't follow me cuz I am so cool.
No more herd mentality. 
Just allow my questions to spark some of your own.

I can only hope that I have NOT somehow managed to offend everyone on the planet.
Peace on you.

bless-ed

I groaned today. Under the weight of the words I wished I could say and the weight of the words that had already been said. So much hating has been going on. I am not exempt.
I just feel better about myself because I hate the haters.
You know what I am talking about. Bullying and abuse and right and wrong. People standing up for themselves and standing up for others. I want to say something but it has all been said and then some.
 I do not know how to make a stand when standing room only is the flavor of the day.
(and that flavor is chicken)
Everybody standing for what they believe in. Or what that guy believes in. Or what God believes in.
Let's just make sure that right is stood up for and let's really make sure that it is kept right.
Or what's the point?
Right?
Too complicated. I just feel more comfortable hating the haters. Simpler that way.
Not exactly proud of that.
I keep trying to reel myself back in but it only works until someone else starts talking and then I start to run the line again as I buck and pull against the current.
I like this fish picture because it describes my heart and how it feels hooked and helpless. I don't want to keep taking the shiny hate bait like a stupid fish. I want to reject the lures kerplunking from every side of the issue. I want to move beyond  my instinct.
That is hard. My instinct tells me that hate is good. Hate is provision. It is the answer to what I have been looking for. This is especially convenient because what I have been looking for is answers.
Hate is the shiny answer to my hearts question about how to feel towards all the bullies. I don't have to point out the bullies. If I started detailing  instances of bullying it would take all day and get really redundant. It isn't just about this current issue. Happens all the time...so I am just gonna try and give you a one sentence definition of bully.
Ready?
If you are standing on your superior right and oppressing someone with that right, you are being a bully.
 I really hate it when that happens.
I hate it so much that when I feel it happening I tend to bet on the underdog and hate the bully no matter how right the bully is in their position.
So, if I gotta put the hate somewhere, at least it is constructive.

Well, somewhere in there I began to realize that this was probably not the way I needed to be thinking. 
Thus, the groaning.
If you wait long enough I do eventually come back to the point.

Simply put, I asked the Lord if He would help me feel His heart on the matter.
I do not in any way say that I am revealing the heart of God here. I am just saying that this is what came to my heart in response to my asking my Father to help me understand His perspective.
You gotta do your own research on this.
The matter on my heart...
one person has spoken his opinion leading to one people group standing en masse to support both his right to his opinion and their agreement with his position. This has led to both misunderstanding and full comprehension of the stated and unstated agendas of people groups on every side of this issue.
People standing for their rights. Other people being looked down upon because their beliefs don't match up. Hating happening pretty generously on both sides leading to multiple levels of hating by association as people pointed fingers and spoke loudly about all the various subsets of said support. sigh.

I groaned. I listened. I heard...Matthew 5. I began to read...

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

I have always been taught that the sermon on the mount was about Jesus teaching his disciples how to be good losers.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

I guess I also knew that it was talking about those poor souls like you find in Africa
or China.
You know, the persecuted ones.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Meek is about being lowly. Or perceived lower than the one doing the perceiving.

Blessed are  those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.

I am reading, and chuckling a little at this one as I think about hungering for
righteousness vs chicken.
 -Glad I didn't stand in any lines.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

oops. point taken.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

getting a little close to home here.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.

 I began to wonder about these words and how I had always been led to interpret them. In mercy I thought about standing in line for the 'right' and how un-peaceful that can be. And it hurt me. But not in a judgmental way. More in a way that really let me feel how much people can hurt while I defend my rights.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

My hands began to shake with the power of this statement. Right or wrong, I saw this sentence in an entirely new light.
I had thought this a call for strength.
I had thought this a promise to the right.
Stand firm in your beliefs. Hold the line. Take the punches. You will be rewarded.
I am not saying that is wrong. I am just saying that my thought was pretty exclusive as to its meaning. 

Today I was introduced to a new thought.
What if the blessed are the ones being persecuted by the hands and hearts of the righteous.
What if our stand for the right is causing pain, oppression, and persecution to others.
Is it possible that the Lord of Heaven is standing ready to defend this persecution?
Or the ones being persecuted?

Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you, and falsely say all manner of evil against you in my name.

Now I can hear the voice of my dad in my head. And I smile when I type this. He is telling me I have it all backwards because that next verse talks about prophets and clearly people living in sin are not who he is talking about...to which I would say innocently "daddy, are you saying that all those people on that mountain were sinless?"
And then we would go round and round arguing semantics.
So, just know that I know what you are saying when you say I am misinterpreting.
I am not saying it doesn't mean what we were taught.
I am saying...it may mean more than that.

Read on.
You will find that the rest of the chapter reads different if you look at it from the perspective of the teacher trying to each his students about respecting others and living in such a way as to bring honor and love to an otherwise harsh and impersonal law.
Today I began to read this "Sermon on the Mount" with a heart that looks to others instead of only to myself. I see the promises not only for my own down times but for the down times of the hurting around me.
I see the blessed as defined by Jesus himself. I see where He is instructing me how to see His beautiful creation. His children.
I see, for the first time, that being salt and light are not only a call to purity and strength but also an encouragement to hold fast to the principles of love taught by the Master. For if salt and light are defined as love then we are called to never lose our love and to never hide it.
Love as salt will affect everyone around with its saltiness.
Love as light will brighten the whole city when kept fully out in the open for all to see.
I know you know this. 

Take it and apply it back to the blessed ones. Consider that the blessed ones (in this case) are anyone that is not full up with the knowledge of the love of Jesus.
The lowly, the persecuted, the poor in spirit...whether they know it or not.
Now that you recognize them, do not pity them.
Certainly do not yell at them about how right you are.
Embrace them.

I sit here now, weary but heartened by the promises I feel in my heart. I look on the events of the past few days and it breaks my heart because so many people were belittled and hurt...on both sides.
My Papa has a heart to mend the hurts. I know this is true. I want to live in a way that honors His heart.
I hope I can start with today.

Policy decisions

Honesty

Honestly, honesty is one of those subjects that bring out the worst in me. I like to think I am an honest person but my reality reveals me in a world of fabrication, exaggeration, and denial.

I make junk up.

For instance, if you call me and I am sleeping...I will try to make you believe that I am not.
"no. not asleep. just resting here. with my eyes closed. but I was about to get up anyway."
Now I can see how a person might want to pretend to be awake if they are caught napping by their boss in the middle of the workday. But tell me the sane reasoning behind feigning alertness when you are awakened at 7 am by your dad (or some other crazy morning person) who just randomly calls you before you have had your morning pee.
Am I trying to hide my slovenly nature? Is this an attempt to claim admiration? what?

How about this...I am driving in my neighborhood and I see this car with a wild paint job. Days later I see another car with a wild paint job. Might even be the same one but you don't really think about it. Another day, same neighborhood, crazy paint job car is spotted by my kid.
I might find myself saying "I know!! What is up with all these crazy paint jobs? I see these cars everywhere!"

I clean up the house. I do it every day.(see that may or may not be the exact truth)
I pick up shoes and clothes and other stuff. I get irritated at a kid seen dropping his coat on the floor. I might be heard saying "Get your coat off the floor! I picked up your coat at least four times today!!"...whether or not that is the truth.

I am supposed to be at a family function at 3pm. It takes 1 hr to drive to said function. I will get caught up with something and actually leave my house at 2:25. I will wait til I am in my car before I call family member and tell them..." We're on our way. Be there soon!" I will say this in such a way as to lead the listener to believe that we are almost there instead of revealing the reality that we just left and we will be at least 25 minutes late.
I know I am not the only one who has a problem with this.

"I will be ready to go in 5 minutes."

"Mommy just needs to finish this up. It will only be a sec."

"I'll be right there."

"Please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can."
(this one could actually be truth in some parallel universe. Problem is, I live in denial about how soon "I can" really is.)

What is the matter with me?

I am going to attempt a little self psychoanalysis here.

I hate conflict. I hate for you to be upset. I hate for me to be upset. I don't want to look bad. I want you to like me. I want you to believe the best about me. I do not want to admit that I have failed or fallen short of the "norm". I want to live up to your expectation. I want to exceed your expectation. More is better. My reality is not good enough.

Will the world spin off its tilt if I tell the truth? Will my technicolor life fade to gray if I reveal the unexaggerated facts? Will I physically shrink as you think less of me based on my realistic time approximations?

Interesting thoughts.

Let's try it.

"Yes, I was asleep. It is 7 am. I will be up at 10."
"Cool. I have seen that car a few times now. Maybe they live near here."
"Pick up your coat if you want to live." (ok...that is as truthful as I can make it)
"I am going to be 25 minutes late. I am just leaving. I am sorry to be late."
"I don't know how long this will take. I will try to be quick."

Learning to live in reality. It is a hard thing.
Note to self (and others) --
Face your own limitations and understand that your denial of the physical laws of nature (ie; time, distance, money, personal accountability) does not bless the ones around you as they wait for your super powers to be revealed.


***********************

Topic two...for another day....
Making promises you can't keep.

please read this and pass it on...please

I want to give you a short rundown on something I have just found out.

It seems that there is a biotech company called Senomyx that works with food and drink companies to find ways to enhance flavors in their products. If you look at their website you find that they are noble in their desire to reduce the amounts of MSG, sugar, sodium and other additives in products. They do this by using "isolated human taste receptors" that will react chemically with these new flavor enhancers in ways that taste tests alone would not.

What they fail to mention is that the isolated human taste receptors are from Human Embryonic Kidney cells (HEK) from a healthy, electively aborted baby.

They are using aborted human fetus cells to research ways to make your food taste better.

Read that again.

Some of the companies that use this technology...

Pepsico

Nestle

Kraft

Ajinomoto (leading maker of aspartame)

Firmenich (perfume and flavoring company)--think fruit juice, jelly, yogurt, etc...etc...etc...

I am really distressed.

I realize that I have no TV and maybe I am way behind the times in this issue...still...this is just so horrible.

I did not want to write this out as a crunchy granola eat healthy or die propaganda letter. I just wanted to let you know. Because I figured you would want to know.

Here is a link for a website that I do not necessarily endorse it just seemed to be a pretty concise summary with some links and further information.

http://www.cogforlife.org/senomyxmercola.htm

happy hollow weenie

I hate halloween.
Seems every year that my children drill me on why we don't "do" halloween. And every year I have to explain why while feeling a burden to educate them but not creep them out too much.

So...we talk a bit about ancient beliefs, all hallows eve, dead walking around, bad spirits wanting to inhabit, costumes to try and fool the spirits, tricks cuz "hey we're in costume we can get away with it", treats to ward off tricks, devil worship, creepy costumes vs nice costumes...
blah blah blah.
Then we talk about how creepy it is to go house to house begging for candy... from strangers.
I mean seriously, if you are young enough for that to be exciting then the practice is just confusing and dangerous...if you are old enough to understand why it is confusing and dangerous then you need to go buy your own dang candy.
Candy that yer mean ole mom will take away from you as soon as you hit the house.
Plus, even if you are a fairy princess or an angel or a teddy bear you are likely to be met by a bloody serial killer, brain eating zombie or demonic alien hooker witch...these visions combined with a sugar high are sure to be a deadly dream combination.
I hate halloween.
I hate the Spirit stores that open up each year and make me try and get my children to look the other way until we get past. (it almost never works)
I hate the general love of all things gross and evil and bloody. I hate that it comes right up into your everyday living space and sticks its demonic tongue out at you.
You can't buy cereal or tampons without someone with a machete buried in his head telling you to "have a nice day".
And why do waitresses all think that slutty-witch is an appropriate costume for an otherwise family friendly eating experience? sheesh.
I hate halloween.
I think sugar is pretty much evil in any amount outside of the barest of moderation. I don't go down the candy isles.
I just pretty much wear the "don't even ask" look while at the checkout line.
Don't get me wrong...I like candy. I even buy candy. But when we have candy we eat it.
So we don't have it much. got it?
I refuse to let my children go door to door begging for poison so that they can bring it home and be mad at me for trying to do what's best for them. sigh.
I hate halloween.
I don't have the strength today to talk about devil worship and how the church seems to have embraced it with a sweet "but it's all fun for the kiddies" mentality. Another time.
I hate halloween.
Ask me next year and I betcha I will have new reasons. Seems the list keeps growing.

pedestals

My relationships are rapidly changing. I don't know if they know it yet, but they are.
Change is good, right?
Really the change is happening in me. And since I am becoming something different it seems natural that how I react and interact with my life is also going to change.
So let's get down to brass tacks.
What is changing?

I am learning that I have built my life on an elaborate series of untruths.
(I am sure we will see additional posts about this)
One thing that has recently been revealed to me is that I think my people are Awesome.
with a capital A.
The basic untruth here being that I need to live in Awe of them.

The ugly truth here...I put people on pedestals. Wayyy on up there. In my desire to believe the best in people I have inadvertently held them up with my esteem to the point that the only way they could go was down. And down they have come. Over time. All of em...
One by one.
It isn't as tho I think them perfect. No. I see that they have faults. It is just that their faults have not directly affected me so I magnanimously allow them to remain in view so as not to heroically brand my loved one.
Hero worship is dangerous. Everybody knows this.
So they get to be imperfect. But still awesome. After all, I love them...so they must be all that.
Right?
But then, inevitably, they do the deed that affects me personally. Their fault hurts me. Or worse, someone I love. And they fall.
Sometimes I reach up and yank them down. Either way...boom.
And this falling...it hurts us both.

It hurts me because it feels like betrayal. Personal. And painful.
How dare they? If they reveal that they are not what I have believed them to be then they must have been perpetrating an untruth. Lying to me.
Leading me on with promises.
Sure, my expectations may have been absurdly unreal but they were a party to it.
They stood up on that height and went along with me on with my distorted reality trip.
(they are very multi-taskual you know)
But they have been found out.
Now I know them for what they really are; liars. And that stings.
I am now hurting.

You know, I really don't get their hurt...because I have been supremely fair in my pedestal building. They may have known I was building it and may have been working extra hard to keep themselves within the confines of the platform... But I gave them lots of room! I mean, I allowed them their various imperfections. I knew they had their faults. I even let them keep their faults on display. As long as it didn't affect me or mine they were free.
Ok, so maybe they had no idea how high they were being held. Maybe they thought it was just a small podium. Just a little adoration footstool of shiny thoughts. Me in love. Maybe they were ok with that. What is the harm in a little bit of lofty expectations? If you get tired you just step off.

If that is the case, surprise surprise surprise, that first step is a loo-loo.

They crash and burn then brush themselves off and look up to find my looks of disappointment...disillusionment...disgust even.
No longer are they high and lifted up. They have been found out.
Maybe I can see how that would hurt them. I can give you that it could possibly be unfair.
Ok.
Totally unfair.

It's not right you know...putting people on pedestals. But I do it. Have done it all my life.
If I like you, I like you a lot. You are wonderful.

Do I like you because you're wonderful? Or are you wonderful, because I like you?
(lyrics loosely from a song I heard once.)

I want to like you. I want to create a cushy place in my heart for you where we can be friends together and never disappoint one another. I know you will fit there. Not like all those other cretans. (from the urban dictionary: someone who is an idiot and lacks gravitas)
They have shown their true colors and abandoned me. No. You will be different.
You are wonderful.
Feel that pedestal rising up like a barbers chair? pump, pump, pump...

You might feel it happening and protest. But I am quick. I rush in with assurances of our mutual imperfections. This makes you feel better. What you don't know is that your protest just accelerated the pump action on my hydraulic pedestal raiser upper.
Being aware of your weakness makes you just that much more awesome.

There is no winning with me. sigh.
Here is how it goes...
We meet, I fall in like, you live up high while I tend to your needs, you fail here or there but I don't take it personal, you try to let me know your weakness, I reassure you, you let me down directly, your pedestal crumbles, I feel terribly hurt, appologies and forgivenesses, I help you re-assume your pedestial position....
I am so tired of living this way.

So what has changed? Rather, what is changing?
Well, I am now aware of my predilection for pedestal permutation. It is a harsh taskmaster for my heart. Assigning you a level of awesomeness and watching you from below is tiring. It does feel empowering in a way because it is like creation. Sick.
You become my plaything. My opus.
And when you crash...I fail. Because really, your failure is a reflection on me. I created you after all.
That is excruciating, exhausting, and again, supremely unfair to you (and me both).
I mean it! What a rip off that I created you, this awesome monster, and I am the one who gets all in a twist when you act as yourself (but in a way that offends me) and pulls you off the beauteous pediment I so graciously appointed for you. sheesh.
If I were you I would not put up with it any longer.

If I were me I would stop being such a dumbdonkey going around creating complex situations for epic failure.
And that is what is changing.
I am going to try and stop doing that.
I am going to try living with you on the same level. I hope that this will allow you to make your mistakes in freedom. No more being bound by my expectations. You just get to be you.
You might see that I don't treat you as carefully as I once did. You are a grownup. It is time I let you act like one.
Think of it this way...for the first time in our relationship you can really be free to be yourself with me. My goal is to see that and learn to accept it. Let you be you and let me be me reacting and interacting with you and let you be you reacting and interacting with me. Simple right?

I think we will get along better after the initial adjustments. We will both have much more energy if I am not constantly having to reinstate you up on that shiny column.
You can just trip and fall (and I can laugh) and we can move on.

Maybe none of this makes sense. It does get rather complicated. Or maybe it makes a load of sense because maybe you are also a pedestal pusher. I don't know. It is just a peek at me. For myself mostly.
Cheaper than counseling.

Now maybe looking at this makes you irritated because I am so arrogant as to think that you care what pedestal I have you on. Well go ahead and get glad in the same pants you got mad in cuz you can't control it.
But I am gonna try to not do that to you anymore. No promises or pinky swears.
Just me trying.
That is the best I can do for now.

it is not ok

and then she hauled off and whacked him good.
I bet it felt really good too. At least to her. He had been bugging her all day...as is his way...and she had had it up to here.
I didn't see it coming. The hitting. I had heard rumors on other days and heard scuffles in other rooms but if it had happened before, it was out of my sight. People would get a lecture as I looked down my proverbial nose and shook my verbal finger. But you know, I didn't see those incidents happen. Everything was dealt with after the fact. And honestly, it is easier to deal with minor stuff that way.

This, right in front of me, had to be dealt with. Now.
dangit.

So I do the drill. (and here, dear reader, you get a front row judgment seat in our court o justice)
"HEY...what just happened here?"
the brother sits stunned
the sister finds many multiple things to stare at that are everywhere but in my general direction
"did you just hit your brother?"
the silence, is deafening...tap tap helllloooo is this thing on???
"did. you. just. hit. your. brother?"
a slight upward motion of the head
sigh. "what has happened that you think it is ok to smack your brother?"
"he was messin with my Belle doll and he wouldn't stop" sniff, sniff...
innocent indignance jumps in..."I was just making her do flying leaps off the coffee table, we were having fun"
I address him first...
"have we talked before about being a bully? about how if you are the only one laughing then that is not playing...that is bullying..."
"uh-huh"
"so, were you treating her with love and respect?"
"uh-noooo"
"then you were wrong. what do you need to do?"
"uh-not do it anymore?"
"and?????"
"uh-apologize?"
"yes...but wait a minute"
now I talk to her...
"I know brother was seriously bugging you but when you hit him were you treating him with love and respect?"
blink blink
"would you like it if someone hit you because you were doing something they didn't like?"
"no mommy"
"does it show that you love your brother if you hit him?"
"no mommy"
"what do you need to do?"
"I'm sorry" she mumbles to the floor.
"It's ok" he grumbles.

And there it comes to a screeching halt.

"stop. wait a minute. this is not ok. it is not ok that she hit you. it is not ok that you were messing with her stuff when she told you to stop. this situation is not ok and saying sorry doesn't make it ok."
they both blink at me now.
"I do want you to forgive each other. That is very important. But it might not happen right here and now. Maybe you need some time to think. We will come back to this. But I want you to know it is not ok to treat each other like this."

and we go on.
We haven't revisited it yet. They may have forgotten it.
Or have they? Kids have a way of bringing stuff back up at the strangest times. I am just gonna see how this plays out.

So why am I telling you all this?
Well, (you knew I had a reason)
I am exploring a little something in myself. A little something I have a little trouble with.
A little something I like to call forgiveness.

I would swear on my bottom dollar that I have had no trouble with forgiveness. In fact, I was always the kid that would get upset and then calm down and be the first to forget what I was upset about. I was also the kid that could just brush things off. Didn't let it bother me.
Chose to pick my battles.
Easy going. Peacemaker. People pleasing. Passive aggressive. Stuffer.
uh yeah. it's a slippery slope people.

ok, let's back up a bit.
I grew up with the teaching that if someone did something bad to you they would say "sorry" (usually) and you would say "that's ok" and you would hug or whatever and that was it.

sorry+ok=forgiveness

Now, sometimes they would not say sorry.
bummer.
But you still had an obligation to forgive them. If they came back to you later and said "sorry" you could say something magnanimous like "it's ok, all forgotten" or "pshaw, I don't even know what you're talking about" or "hey, we all make mistakes". You might hug, or cry, or whatever...
All better.

Today I am just here to say bull puckey to all that.

I am here to confess that I never meant it. Not one time.
When you said "sorry" to me and I said "ok" to you I was lying.
I never once forgave any of you losers.

I thought I did. Does that make it any better?
I didn't plan your untimely demise. Well....ok maybe sometimes I did.
But I didn't put a hit out on ya.
I just took the not okay-ness and stuffed in a dark interior corner (somewhere near my appendix) and forgot about it.

Or not.

I just went on with life.
Then one year all that stuffed stuff decided to take a little party trip to ulcerville . For those of you who have never taken that trip, let me tell ya, it's a hoot.
Nice girls gone crazy and willing to bare her emotional headlights for just a couple of anger shooters and a promise of fame. woohoo!

When stuff that you have stuffed starts unstuffing you might want to run for cover. And if you are particularly responsible you might warn your loved ones. In a pinch I guess you could yell
"FORE".
Heads up people.

There might be crying...and yelling. Cuz when you realize that all those "ok'd" things are not ok you are gonna feel really ripped off. You are going to start looking for some doorsteps to lay blame on. You are going to feel victimized and brutalized and then you are gonna feel pissed off.
And well you should. You didn't deserve any of that.
It was not ok. It is not ok.
It has not become ok over time nor will it proceed to ok if you don't address it.
not ok.
But it is there. It doesn't go away. So what are you gonna do about it?

Well I don't know. I am not your counselor. I am not even your advisor. I do not have this figured out. I just know that I am just now learning to identify that my life has been filled with not ok things. I am learning to identify them and call them what they are.
And that, feels good.

So, maybe you too have identified some places that are not ok...and not forgiven. You know you need to forgive. All the health professionals will agree. I am not a health professional. Nor do I play one on tv...I, like you, am just a schmo who needs to learn to forgive or die a shriveled old prune.
Nobody wants that.

I need to know how to go from not ok to forgiveness.
At this point I don't even know the difference between the two. Let's explore that a bit.

OK means fixed. Over. All right. It means that what you did is excusable. Not as big a deal as we thought it was. Certainly retrievable. Retractable.
OK sometimes means that my feelings in the matter don't matter...or are put aside for the greater good.
The greater good being...your feelings.
yeouch.
Yeah...I'm sitting here thinkin....that really RIPS!
Seriously, I am awwllll worked up about this.
How come your feelings get to trump mine? Why do I have to make nice and put a cap on this situation when you were the one that did the wrong?
What's it gonna hurt you to say the sorry? If you don't mean it then it is just a word. If you do mean it then it might sting a little to say it but you deserve a little sting.
You wronged me and you should bear the brunt of it. You should feel some of the hurt.
Why do I, as the wronged one, have to alleviate your pain with my forgiveness?

Be honest here...isn't that the way you were trained?
What would have happened if your sister said "I'm sorry" and you crossed your arms and turned away??
I thought so.
Such an act would not have a passed unnoticed.
Mom woulda been on you like a duck on a junebug.
"now what do you say?"
"I for...give youuuu..."
"See! now isn't that all better? Everything is ok now."

here's me sticking out my mental tongue. nyaaaaaaa!
(for a kid...sticking out the tongue is kinda like flippin the bird...they just don't know it yet)

It's not ok!!! My arm still hurts. My feelings are still bruised and I want to poke you in the eye.
But I forgave you so it has to be all done.
Rubbish.

This situation is not over.
Just like sorry can be just a word...forgive can be nothing more than a word. You can mean it or not. Thing is, true forgiveness is way more than just a moment on the audible spectrum. I believe that forgiveness really comes when we realize that what has happened is not ok and we are choosing to do something about it.
We choose to be no longer passive, letting the unfairness of the situation take our power.
We decide that we will act for freedom. Both for ourselves and for the one who harmed us.

In choosing forgiveness we free ourselves from the weight of hate.
In giving forgiveness we free others from the weight of our hurt.

Sometimes, and I want you to listen carefully here, it takes more effort to drop a weight than it does to carry it.
Forgiveness hurts.

We have to realize that forgiveness is not a word, it is an action. Seriously, think about it. I can say "I am jumping now" and I can think it, wish it, decide it, faith it, and fake it all I want but unless I put my butt in gear and put some umph behind it, I aint leaving the ground. Same goes for forgiveness. It is going to take some physical effort on your part to make it happen.

Don't get me wrong, God can (and does) do miracles in the forgiveness department. He has ways, that guy. But generally you are gonna have to put some kind of effort into forgiving. And I believe that to develop the muscles it takes you are going to have to do some major reps. 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and...to be translated...I forgive and I forgive and I forgive and I forgive.

(maybe Jesus wasn't talking about 70 different transgressions but the same one being forgiven over and over and over and over and over...) (Matthew 18)
Oh my goodness...this is the first time I have ever thought about this scripture in this way!

I was always a little puzzled thinking "what a big loser! why would you be friends with someone who would sin against you so many times??!" duh.

I tell ya, exercising that forgiveness muscle 70x7 for every time you get ripped off is gonna make for one heckuva sixpack. whew!

I got a little sidetracked there and maybe a little too lighthearted.
We have established that forgiveness takes tenacity. What I wanted to talk about is how forgiveness takes courage.
To look at someone who has hurt you...most likely betrayed you in some way...and say to
them "I forgive you" and really mean it to the point that you can feel the blessed release of it...well, that is just almost too hard to think about.
The thing that makes it so very hard is that you have to accept that what happened was wrong. And then you have to move on. And let them move on too.
Let's go back to where I talked about wrong causing hurt and hate. Hurt and hate are burdens.
Big old bulky packages of poo. Weights that are either carried or left behind. When we forgive, we relieve the burden. Put it down. Leave it behind.

And in that action we also turn and lift that same burden off of our perpetrators shoulders too.

Now here is the sticky part...sometimes, I don't want to relieve them just yet...or ever.
I want them to feel the weight.
But, the stinky part here, if I require them to carry the weight...I will carry mine too.
That's how it works.
If I require them to carry my hurt I will continue to carry my hate.
So, practically speaking, it is in my best interest to forgive. It lightens my load. And the bonus, the mysterious part that only God understands, is that while they do benefit...we benefit more. Our heart gets better(maybe not all the way at first). Our stress reduces. Our compassion increases. We see our past better. We see our future brighter. We grow. We get lighter. wow.
And we never once have to say it didn't matter. We don't have to lie down or roll over or take it anymore.
Forgiveness does not mean "i deserved it"or "you had a good reason" or "it's no big deal".
We get to say "dang that hurt! You hurt me. It matters. I matter. That was not ok!"
and then, while recognizing the wrongness we can say the words and do the actions that bring forgiveness and while that does not make the action right, it can stop the perpetual wheel that keeps bringing the wrong around to be wrong again and again and again.
God has given us the power to put a stop to the pain. I wish it were instant. Sigh.

Here is a couple of things I am discovering...it makes my life make so much more sense....
I have always been soooo sorry when I have done somebody wrong. Like, hang my head, sackcloth and ashes, I am not worthy- sorry.
I think that some of that comes from the fact that this is the action I wished to see from those that had wronged me. I wanted them to prove the "sorry". No lip service.
and while I was much too mature and christian to require it of them...my heart wanted them to grovel.
So when I screwed up...I grovelled...or hid. Because that is what my heart required.
You are judged as you judge others???hmmmmm....my heart has been a very harsh judge. ugh.

Another thing I am learning is that forgiveness takes time. People might tell you to be quick to forgive and that might really be the best way but I do not believe that it is always possible.
Maybe we can forgive in layers. I don't know.
If that is how it works then right now I can forgive your lack of self control that resulted in a bruise on my arm but I am gonna have to get back to you about your underlying control issues and how that makes me feel like a toad.
Mostly tho, I just want to be able to take a little time to heal. I might need to process (and think of all the things I coulda/shoulda said at the time) and get to a place where I can let you be free of the pain you caused me. Don't hold yer breath.
It will come. But I won't be rushed.
Time.

In simple terms, I am learning to forgive. Yes, I still have major problems with it. But I am learning. I am learning that people are going to rip me off on a regular basis just like I am going to rip other people off. And that is not ok. But I can recognize the wrongness and decide not to hold it against them.
I can hope that others would do the same for me.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
One last question. What if they never say “sorry” ?

I want you to think about this...in light of what we have been talking about...does sorry really matter?

Sure, it might help. But does it really play a part in your action of forgiveness?

Just something to think about.

dancing before the Lord

I am EXCITED about dancing before the Lord.
I am aware (only recently) that it is not about me.
It is not about me...or my freedom...or my relationship with the Lord God OR
His people. (see that can be a big one!)

My walk with the Lord is not now and never will be based on my ability or inability to dance before Him in the assembly.
I am not on display...I do not have to set a good example...I do not even have to
have a good attitude about it...I can just be.
And let whatever come.
I can enter that room and watch and wait...and when
He ushers in the dance I can rest in the presence of the Lord.
I can rest and not worry about what you might think of me
(cuz that is something that I might think about) I can listen for the Lord.
I might be so moved by the
freedom of the dance
that I cannot help myself...I may rush in like a thirsty traveler into a cool stream...
I may lose myself in the
passion
of the invitation of my lover to dance alone with him...
I may feel the
celebration
of dancing in the Glory of the Lord with my sisters...
or I may feel belligerent...I may feel stubborn...I may feel shy...I may feel inadequate...
I might have the strength to battle...or may only crumple and weep.
I may feel a nothing...just not a time for me to dance.

It is strange...because I am very new at knowing what I want.
And in this situation I can hear Him asking..."what do you want to do honey?"
I used to think it was all about the order..."do this now ".
And I would do it.
Because I loved Him. Because I was scared not to.
Because I wanted to be a good girl and please Him.
So in my fear I would beg Him for an order. A sign.
Then I would step out.
And it would terrify me...but it would feel so good too.
But I would need that order every time.

Then, when the Lord really kissed me with freedom...I was in a worship setting and I felt something...not a word from the Lord. Something in my heart.
I WANTED to dance.
Actually, first I wanted to run. So I did.
I grabbed a scarf (one of the dancers big flowy scarves)...and I begin to run
in circles around the auditorium. I felt like a little kid. It was really fun!
Now don't think for one instant that I forgot
about everyone around...I still wondered what they were thinking...yuk...but
somehow it just didn't matter...just wasn't a big deal...I didn't care what they thought!)
Then after a few rounds...and me praying that I didn't
have a heart attack because frankly I could not remember the last time I
had run that far...after a few rounds I stopped up at the
front...FRONT...in front of all those people...and I danced. Because I wanted to.
Because I felt the freedom to go sit if I wanted.
But I didn't want to.
I wanted to stand right there,
fully aware of how foolish I might look...and dance.
So I did.
It became as simple as that. I just did it.
Then after a while I sat down.

I danced. I sat down. And here is the freedom
part...not just for me...
He loved that I danced for Him.
I could feel His pleasure.
But I knew that He would have loved me none the less if I had sat the entire time.
He didn't love me more than all the other people in that room.
He didn't see me as more special because I risked something.
He just loved me. And He smiled on me.
And He was pleased with me.

And that...is what freedom feels like. I pray that for you!!
Not that I have it all hooked up. I don't feel the freedom all the time...
but I am learning what it feels like.
I am learning that I want to live THERE!!
I pray for my friends that they will encounter the
Spirit of Freedom that will engage them and get their attention.
I pray that they will taste that sweetness of the Lord that frees
them to know what they want.
I pray that many will know for the first time the freedom of choice in the Lord.
He came to free us to choose!!
He wants us to want HIM!
He wants US!!

That is the turning point for me...the freedom to choose!
I had been living a lovely glorious life but still a false one.
I was serving the Lord.
I was finding joy. I was serving to the best of my ability.
I was doing all that I needed to...but MOSTLY it was based on requirement.
Because I "knew" it was needed and expected of me.
I am amazed at how good that still all felt.
Because He is good. And serving Him is a pleasure and an honor.
But it was not what He wanted for me. It is not what He wants from us.
Because that still makes us slaves.
And that makes Him so sad.

When I dance...it wont be as a slave girl.
I won't wear a veil and wonder if my performance is pleasing.
I will dance in the delight of my Lover.
I will know that my moves captivate Him as no other.
I will know that my presence stirs a place in His heart that He reserves just for me!
I will dance like a child in the sparkle of her daddy's eye.
My moves will make Him giggle with delight as He marvels at His
creation...as He marvels at what He brought forth from His own self.
I will look at Him and see His eyes glisten because He is so touched that I honored
Him enough to want to dance for Him.
I will dance for Him as He dances for me.
He dances for me!
And when He twirls around He catches me eye and He holds out His hands.
He asks me to come dance with Him.
He asks me to choose.
I have a choice.
He gives me a choice.
I will dance because I love Him...because I want to.
And He will be pleased....because He is.

I might dance at your party...I do love to dance.
Pray for more freedom.
A freedom wild enough to challenge our complacency.
A freedom extravagant enough to break through our hesitation.
A freedom loud enough to shout through the noise of all that we have been taught.

May the sticky glory of the Lord fall on you as you
seek Him today!!
(this from the mouth of my youngest son who walks around the
house singing...
"Here comes the sticky glory ory Halaylula He rains.")

Love you.

does Jesus hang a stocking?

Sometimes I wonder what the God of the universe thinks about when He sees us celebrating christmas.
I wonder if He gets distressed to see the fighting that happens in the hearts of men over the capitalization of the letter "C".
I think sometimes that He must wish that He had sent a card that said "no gifts please" when He announced the arrival of His beloved Son.
I have read enough to make your head spin about the history of christmas. It can really get sickening. (not as bad as easter tho.) I feel myself get so scrougy that I cannot see straight.

Being raised in the religious culture that I was, christmas did not hold the story of the blessed Son. It was very commercial. Sure you might find a reading of the nativity story but basically I was told that since we do not know the actual day of Jesus' birth we would be wrong to celebrate it on a specific day and hold that day higher than any other.

I was raised with the images of santa. We were never told that he was real. He was just a funny plaything hanging out with easter bunny and tooth fairy. When we received a present from "santa" we knew it was from mom and dad. We played the game cuz it was silly. In my heart, christmas was an imaginary day where we got to play and imagine the same way we did when we watched Bugs Bunny or Tinkerbell. It was just play.

Then I grew up.
I encountered a world of religion that suggested that we were actually sinning if we neglected to make Christmas all about Christ. This theology points fingers at my raising saying that those people are somehow deluded and certainly wrong to remove the deity from the day. There are heated discussions about "those people". They are the ones that have placed the coming of Jesus into a secular cellophane box and tied it with a politically correct bow.

True Christians, it seems, know that this day should be holy and set apart. True Christians want the world to know that their maker has a plan. True Christians may even feel the need to enlighten those people as to the true meaning of the season.
There are many who yell. Some shake their heads. Others point fingers and try to keep their own hearts pure. I even think that there are others that feel a profound sadness and sincerely pray to God above to rectify this travesty and turn the hearts of the lost back to the truth.
Trouble is, the truth can too easily be confused with the words on the flyer that tells you that this store has everything to satisfy all your holiday shopping needs.

I wonder if it makes God sad to think that sending His son would cause people to believe that their righteous indignation could cause the turning of time and nation to the recognition of God's love. Jesus is the reason for the season...dammit.

ugh.

So what is it all about?
Personally, I don't like santa. That story about saint nick is all fine. If you believe in saints.
I don't.
I think that you either embrace the fact that santa is a human raised by elves (not to be confused with Elf)...or you canonize him into a holy man that did wonderful deeds and you then have to accept the fact that plastering his face all over your house is right up there with idol worship. What's it gonna be folks?
I choose to banish santa. ehhh..pretty much anyway. We watch the christmas movies. I love the claymation cartoons. We get our share of santa that way. But he is just an imaginary friend. He isn't allowed to take up residence on our gifts.
This is a fine line. I know. But it is my line. I don't have santa candles. I don't sign my gifts from santa. Yet I let my sweet papa play santa dress up if he wants to. I don't think it is warping anybody. It's just a game. We try to downplay it.
We set out a nativity because my kids think it is cute. Usually I forget to put it away with the other decorations so it sits out for many many months. We play with it. We talk. Jesus came to earth. Cool.

Christmas, to me, is a day where we tell one another that we appreciate them. We give them gifts.
Just because.
I do not choose to associate that gift giving with the greatest gift of all. Some people do that. That is their choice. I can't do it. I don't celebrate the day as Jesus' birthday. If I teach that to my children then I teach them that honoring Jesus means seeing how much you can get and give to show affection and buy gratitude.

Not gonna do it.

I seriously do not want my kids to associate God's gift to us with anything of monetary value. Even tho I try to make it not about the presents at all. But the entire season is about the presents. You would have to live in a yurt to get away from all the commercialism.
I would like to duck my head and refuse to participate... but I don't really want to.

Sometimes I think about creating a gift day that is not associated with these holidays. That would be nice. And I could raise a family of weirdos. They would grow up and get married and go to counseling for a lot of years to get over the fact that their mother went off the deep end at the turn of the century and refused to let them be a part of American society.
Their wives would roll their eyes as they came over for christmas hotdogs and parcheesi. Their children would probably dig it because they would get presents in the middle of July when all their friends would just have to be satisfied with fireworks.
C'mon you know this sounds interesting.

Like I said...I could do that but I don't want to. I just want to light the tree...because it is pretty. It lights the night with sparkles. I like the holiday movies. Even filled with cheese they make me get all misty and I kinda like the sentiment.
(it's the only time I allow it in the house just so ya know)

Other than that...I like the presents. the only problem I have with presents...and lots of them...is that it gets all convoluted and tied up with God and His love for us. I can't take the contradiction.

God sent His son...not a snuggie.

I don't want to participate in a "season" of giving and getting in the name of Jesus. That should be our daily existence. double ugh.

So. I am not going to yell at you for saying "happy holidays". I don't have a problem with Kwanzaa. Hanukkah is a beautiful celebration of one miracle of God. If you want to make it all about being the best Santa you can be today and paying off the mastercard for the next 6 months...Just do it. Enjoy.
I am not even going to yell at you for your infuriating bumper sticker that sticks your idea of Jesus and His season in my face. Obviously I will judge you for it.
But I won't yell.

You can have it. If it makes you feel better, you go ahead.

I am going back to my roots. I don't know what day Jesus was born. I celebrate Him everyday. I don't want my children tying His name to the commercial garbage that is christmas.
So christmas becomes a sweet little day where we love on one another and eat good food. I refuse to go into debt for that.
That is my middle of the line response. I don't believe in any of the ways that it is currently done.
So I choose to let you do it how you see fit. I hope you can let me do the same.

Sometimes I repeat myself...and often I'm redundent....

Have you ever thought a thought and thought...
"wow! this is a really good thought."
only to find out that it is such a good thought that you have thought it more than once before?

Like sometimes I am a genius and I remember that we need bbq sauce. So I buy some. Then the next time I go to the store I pass the bbq sauce isle. And I think...wow, I think we need some bbq sauce...so I buy some.
(once I got 4 bottles stashed away before the family started mocking me)

When my grandmother died I remember the family laughing and shaking their heads in disbelief over the fact that grandma had like34 packages of tp stored away in various closets around her house. They said it was probably a result of her going through the depression and living without. I'm not buying it.
She just forgot. Knew that she needed tp and kept sticking it away. Oblivious.

Sometimes we repeat ourselves.

Once I found a box with some old journals in it. I found this scrap piece of paper where I had jotted down an idea for some great journal entry...a new thought...a lightbulb moment....then deeper into the journals...like years earlier....I found an almost identical entry. A little note scribbled on the side of a margin.

Sometimes I repeat myself.

Have you ever said something to someone and they have to tell you that you told them the same thing yesterday? And the day before?
I hate it when that happens.

How is the best way to handle such situations?
If you are the "repeat offender"...what do you do?
Mostly, you just go "oh" and feel stupid and awkward. Right?
Is there a time that you can think of where you felt good about hearing...
"yeah you told me that already".?
Makes you feel dumb, huh?

Ok you don't have to admit it if you don't want to.

It makes me feel dumb.
If you know me you know that I hate to feel dumb.
Ignorant...fine. I can say idk. No problem.
But if I feel stupid...wellll...I tend to close up like a tickled clam.
This is what happens when I hear someone say the dreaded words,
"you already told me that."
They actually don't even have to say the words. I can see it in their eyes. They look down and away. Maybe for only a second but I know. I see.
"have I told you this before?"
I dread the answer.

Now I am going to tell you something really opinionated. (you are shocked, I know)
In my opinion, it takes a really strong and loving person...a true friend...a pal...to look you in the eyes and lie to you.
"what? No! go ahead."
This is what I am looking for.
I need friends that will let me ramble on.
If I get to the end of the story and I sense that maybe this was a replay I might say that I am sorry if I have repeated myself.
If you lie to me and pretend that this is the first time you have heard this story about my child, or my great (ancient) sports play, or my daily personal brilliance...
I will love you.
Truly.
You will go up a notch in my list of wonderful people.
I will get all warm and fuzzy. I might even tear up a little bit.
It will make me feel good.
I think that it is respectful and good and right.
I will do the same for you.

Unless.
What happens if it is not a good story?
What if it is a dreadfully boring story?
What if it is gossip? Or heresy? Or worst of all...a story from the local news. ACK!
Sorry, I can't take it.
I have been known to stop you in your tracks. Well, maybe not you...but those like you.

You know who you are.

I used to have to do this with my mother. I love my mother.
I lied to her many many many o' time as she repeated stories to me.
Good stories...easy.
Long stories? Boring stories? Yep...lied through those too.
I could look her straight in the face and absolutely convince her that I had never heard that story before.
(well, ok, she couldn't see very well)

But I really could, and did, encourage her to go on with the stories.
Unless it was a story about how people wait in grocery store bathrooms to kidnap teenagers and drag them to Disneyland to be slave labor costumed characters. She heard it on the news. She wanted me to be informed.
There is a reason I don't watch the news!

Lalalalala...I don't want to hear about it.

So I might gently say..."oh right, I remember you telling me this story."
Or, if feeling cranky, I might say..."yeah mom, you told me that yesterday."
Or if that didn't work...and the kidnapping descriptions are getting particularly grim...I might even have to say..."mom. seriously. you told me this already and it creeps me out...can we change the subject?"
She's mom.She took it like a trooper. Sometimes she would wait an entire day before she tried to tell me the same story again.

Oh well.

I believe, to the very bottom of my heart, that listening to one another is one of our most valuable friendship tools.
Our stories are important to us. They are us. When we are talking to one another we use our words to give, or at least reveal, pieces of our heart.
It is never fun to be shut down when opening up a piece of your heart.
When it happens to me it makes me feel...more than dumb...it makes me feel... rejected.
Yes. Rejected.
Strong word ain't it?
Maybe I am oversensitive...scratch that...I know I am oversensitive.
But I do not think I am alone in this.

When you say "yes, you already told me that" you are essentially saying "I don't want to hear you. You are bothering me."
Think about it.
It is not very respectful.
If you are a kid and you say something like that to your parents you had better duck.
If you are a working person and you say that to your boss you might want to think about googling the location of the nearest unemployment office.

Why do we get to say it to our loved ones?

Can I clarify here...I am not talking about someone nagging you and you drawing some boundaries.

I am talking about stories. Events. life.
I hope you know what I mean.

Respect.
Respect my stories as a deeper part of me. I have shared with you. Then I have loved you enough to want to share that part of me again. Feel honored.

If, in the interest of honesty, you feel that you absolutely must tell me that I am repeating myself....I mean like I am in the middle of the story and all laughing or crying or whatever and I stop and say..."oh dear, have I told you this before?"
You, in all honestly, wisdom, grace, and mercy are allowed (with the utmost of respect and maybe a light touch on my hand) to look me in the eyes and say....
"well, yes. You have told me this before. But I would love to hear it again."

Then smile.

Then do it again tomorrow.

just put me in the crazy box...

The crazy box. My friend used that term today and it really held a certain zing for me.

Crazy.
I love it. I am it.

My children use that word very cautiously. They know that if they say "that word" I will almost instantaneously break out in song.

"Crazy....I'm crazy for feeling so lonely....I'm crazy...I'm crazy for feeling so bluuuuuuu...."
I kinda do a Patsy Klein/Barbara Streisand/Bette Midler meld voice. It's pretty.

It makes me feel better about myself.
(It also annoys the begeebers out of my children. Secretly I think they kinda like it tho. They just can't say so or they will get their kid card revoked. )

I like to annoy my children. Every mother has to have an outlet. Right? Is that wrong?
Stop it. You know you do the same thing.

OK that was a little off topic.
The topic for today is crazy. What is crazy?

Crazy is that thing that when you do it other people look at you like you are not normal.

Normal being that thing that they are and everyone else is really not.

Normal is a superiority complex. Normal is a navel (as in belly button...not anchors aweigh) gazing exercise designed to make one feel better about oneself.
Normal is a tag that we put on our own idiosyncrasies to help us rise above the rabble. To help us cope. To help us identify with our group.
We are normal. They are like me. I am like them. Together we shall rule the world...mwahahahahahah!!

Sick.
Normal is sick.

Normal is a recipe for inadequacy. It is the enemy in full on battle with your very soul. He calls you out, taunts you, then grabs you by your Achilles heel. "you're not normal".
Don't underestimate this. (yes I am getting on my soapbox)
If he can't make you feel superior by being normal then he will go all out to make you feel either sub-normal...or super-normal.
He will say to you..."you are not normal. Something must be wrong with you. You aren't like the other children."
If you don't buy that one he will go for this one..."you are not like the other children. You are better. You are strong and powerful."

Both of these could be true at the same time. Be assured that both will be played upon. Here is this little gem...

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

by Marianne Williamson from A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles

I have no problem with Marianne's statement. It is beautiful. In context it is empowering.
It makes you stand tall and say "Heck Yeah!"
(I never say "heck" by the way. I just had to put it in there for emphasis. )

But then, when the wind machine and soft lighting is turned off you are left with a feeling. Deep in your gut. A feeling that somehow you are not that. That you do not really possess a light that anyone can use. That your light is not right... somehow different....not for use to the everyday consumer. You are not normal.

What the stink are you supposed to do with that?
How can you touch that? If you are not afraid of your inadequacy you are afraid of your genius. You have been given a call to be all that you can be. All that you are. But what you are is buried. Or wounded. Or just plain tired. You don't have the energy to be one more thing. Even if it is for the betterment of both yourself and the entire stinkin world.
Seriously.
How, in the normal light of everyday existence, do you put yourself out there in such a way that you change the state of affairs for everyone within your light path.

How? How? HOW!

It is too much pressure.

In trying to rise above we can create a ladder so steep that we become fearful. We grab and grasp at each rung, trying desperately to climb and not fall, and we forget to sing. (what does singing have to do with this?)
I am glad you asked.
"Crazy...I'm crazy for feeling so lonely....I'm crazy....I'm crazy for feeling so bluuuuue"

Let it out honey!

Ok she has really flipped it this time. What is she talking about? (I am right here, I can hear you whispering)

Listen.

Normal is passe. It really doesn't even exist. There is no tangible level of acceptable. We can stop trying to climb above it. We can also stop being afraid of slipping below it.
Normal is word like supercalifragilisticexpealidocious. It is a made up thing. It has no real definition.
If you look it up it says earth shattering things like "not abnormal".
Or you can go for " conforming to the average".

Why. would. you. want. to .strive. for .this??
And, even if you could define average, how would you get there?
Holy cow, I am getting so confused.

If normal is not abnormal and abnormal is that thing that is not normal...I think you see where I am going with this. It cancels itself out. It is not a goal.
If it is not a goal then why do we spend so much time trying to be it?
And why do we hear the enemy constantly trying to tell us how terrible we are for not being it.
And...why, if it doesn't exist, and it is just used to describe the median line of acceptability...why are we so susceptible to the call to rise above yet fear that we are surely irretrievably mired below???

Why do we want to be normal?
I think it is because it feels safe. It feels like home base. A checkpoint.
Lies.
You can't trust this.
If we constantly compare ourselves to the standards of others we are liars and cheats.
There can be no comparison between us.
There is no normal, people.

You can group yourselves up into likes and dislikes...physical attributes...body odor or toenail length for all I care but you cannot go around telling people "this is normal and that is not".

Shoot...now I have to change all my ways of thinking. I do think this way. Even in defining myself as crazy I am toeing the party line that I am outside of normal. Gahhhh!

Yet, I like the word crazy. I like the connotation. I like the quirk. Crazy is not knowing exactly what might be said or done. It is unnerving. It is unsettling. It is weird.

But in an acceptable normal kind of way, yes?
NO!
See I was trying to trick you.

You fell for it.

I want you to love me for me. Not because I am that crazy one. Not because I am outside of normal or inside of normal.
Just because I am me. And you like that about me.

So if I want to be neurotic...or self absorbed...or easily overwhelmed...or if I want to sing loudly...or go to therapy for my repressed emotional baggage...or believe that God created this banana just for the pleasure I get in eating it...
if I want to wear no makeup....or only play board games with non competitive people...or not go to organized church...or have really passionate opinions about the way cardboard smells....love me.

This is mostly about being yourself. Being myself. Not some fantasy about putting myself out there for people to love and admire and aspire to. No. Just being.
I am really big on this. Being. Not striving or attaining or failing.

How can you fail at being??

Accepting that what you are, what you have, what you can put out or keep in, is enough. Being comfortable to be honest about your stuff. Laughing...or crying... at that stuff as you juggle the dailies. Love yourself.

**I feel I must put in a disclaimer here....just for clarity....this is all about Jesus. All of it. He is the air that I breathe. I am not uber Christian. This blog is not about my daily scripture reading. It would be fine if that was the case...but it isn't. Jesus. None of this that I am talking about it possible without Him. None of it. Questions? Ask me about Him and I will tell you what I know. I really really really dig Him. **

The Creator of the universe made you stunningly marvelous. You are not normal. You are not abnormal.
You are you.

Love yourself for who you are.
Love me for what I am.
You can even hate me for that matter.
Just don't box me.

Then again...if you must box me....

I will take the crazy box. Fits like a glove.