Dear Friend

I received a text from a sweet friend today concerned about me, and with a desire to "help".  Rather than respond in a long text,  I have informed them  to look here for my response, so please forgive my personal response.

"You are a sweet friend... I figured my blog was kind of "hidden" anymore. :) Sometimes I say much more than I should (go figure).  I appreciate greatly your desire to not be, as you said "happy plastic people". 

You are correct in your observation that I have not been myself recently;  I have not shared in Sunday School because the list would long and there is still that "trust" issue. You asked what someone could do (or has done) to break trust with me.  Oh, the list is long.  (But to be fair, I too have done my own horrific share of breaking trust with others.)  

But to answer your question specifically, I have shared things in confidence with other people, that were "passed on in the interest of all"; had people overreact to things I've shared and acted out on those overreactions; some of my "confessions" have been met with anger, judgment & a lack of grace and acceptance of my human frailty. I have been boldly lied to, betrayed, deceived, manipulated, misled, misrepresented and even hung out to dry.

I am, by nature, a very trusting person.  I want to believe people are good at their core; that intentions are pure. Thereby, the worst of this mistrust is, that in some of these occurrences,  I feel taken advantage of in the worst possible way... if you will allow me with what may feel like overly dramatic wording, it feels like an emotional raping.

I have attempted to love well and be a friend with fierce loyalty.  While I am FAR from perfect, I love deeply and passionately.  I HATE to disappoint or frustrate people... and some people that know that about me, use that for personal gain or self-interest. I have been perpetually rejected, yet cannot seem to put appropriate boundaries in place because it doesn't "feel" loving... ugh.

Also, most people don't REALLY know me... not because I try to hide it necessarily, but because most people do not know how to handle the other "parts" of who I am.  I am a multi-faceted person, not just the "Sunday morning Steffanie" that people perceive or think they know.  It is not that I am not that person, it is just not the "whole" me.  It is impossible to truly know someone without spending a good bit of time with them.  I have dealt with misperceptions of who I am my whole life, I am used to that; it is the conclusions/determinations that people have made about who they think I am, that hurt me.

I am a deep thinker, which at times makes me quiet & reflective (understandably, most people do not believe this).  I can be quite emotional, easily moved, and yet not openly demonstrative; because I learned years ago, that people overreacted or due to their inability to know how to respond to me, thereby creating an uncomfortable atmosphere for all. 

People have the expectation that I am always "up"... It has been my identity, my "job" even, to keep people encouraged, happy & laughing, which is indeed a part of me & one part of me that I love, but again, it is not all of me. Therefore, if I am not walking in that part of my identity, others are uncertain about how to interact with me, so typically they just don't. 

I do posses enough self awareness that I also know I tend to be an "in-the-moment" person.  This is both a strength and a weakness.  When I am "in the moment" with someone, I am completely "there", passionately, intimately, with genuine care and interest.  But then I move into the next "moment", consequently creating a perception of inaccessibility. Many have interpreted this as a lack of sincerity, or an "act" when I was in the moment with them, and as a result, they feel rejected or forgotten by me.  I then become labeled, not as caring or encouraging, but as phony or disingenuous in my interactions with people; doing the VERY thing I hate most- disappointing/hurting people.  I recognize this does not have an obvious relationship to my trust issues, but it is a place where my motives are constantly in question and makes me feel "on guard" with others perceptions of me.

Thank you for your willingness to be my friend...  one of the things I do not do well is ask for help.  Not because I am unwilling or too prideful, but mostly because I am not even sure to ask for... make sense?  I look forward to the day when I can once again, walk hand in hand with my best friend, where whatever I need is just known...even if, maybe especially if, I can't articulate it.


With much love and appreciation,
Steffanie

SOS

I will not be here long... it's late and I should be sleeping, but once again I find my mind with the inability to shut itself off.  I need advice... I cannot seem to "will" myself to do anything.  I don't know if I have fallen into some kind of depression, but I just feel paralyzed- occupationally, in my household, emotionally, even spiritually.  I don't want or need "pat" answers.  I need help... my hand being taken and walked through (with patience, boldness, acceptance and grace) whatever I need to do.  I have been on a waiting list since April to see a counselor but she has still had no openings.  I do not want to go to anyone else because I have some pretty real trust issues.  

I have an INCREDIBLE family, but I feel SO alone... I want someone to walk WITH me through this- whatever "this" is. I have had a terrible day of missing past friendships... scary bad actually.  I cannot (nor for others) afford to make emotional choices.  I have had people advise me to use "diversion" tactics, but those do not heal the heart.  

So what do I do?  Work harder? Be still more? Love less? Love more? Pray harder? Run away? Not with "right/ religious" answers, but help me friend... anyone?

Normal?

I am sitting at my sister's house listening to the rain fall as all of the children play downstairs.  I've been on the computer for awhile trying to avoid coming here actually.  I ended up going through my "google history" from the last, almost ten months.  It's amazing the flood of memories that came rushing back.  Some good, some not so much... but intensely emotional, nonetheless.  (*One of the of things that made me giggle was (were?) the number of words that I had to "look up".  I've been challenged in many ways since the beginning of this year and my vocabulary was one of them!)

As I sit, I find myself pondering what my new "normal" is supposed to look like.  There is SO much upheaval and loss in my life and NOTHING is as it was... the grief of so much loss is almost paralyzing.  I don't even know where to begin...  

In discussion with a friend, who very recently lost his wife, he assured me, that although often "things" don't turn out the way we plan, hope, or even pray, that God is still our only hope and place in which to place our trust.  He prayed, even with belief that his wife would be healed... she wasn't. What did he miss?  What did he not understand?  Now what?  What does normal look like?

What I know, is that despite my grief and questions, there are people around me that are continuing to love God, staying faithful, and keep putting one foot in front of the other; with a hope and a faith in a GOOD plan for the their future, from a GOOD God. 

I haven't a CLUE where to go from here... what to do... and with/without whom; but my heart is still beating (although most days it feels like barely) and must assume I am to keep going... 

Broken

Maybe some things really are just better off left unsaid, so I do not say much here anymore... not sure if that is a good thing or bad.  It just is.  Typically broken hearts are just that- broken; thereby, broken words inevitably follow.  Who wants to listen to that?  I'm sorry to have become a disappointment to so many...

I love deeply... maybe too deeply... I confess, I wish I didn't for SO many reasons.  I wish I knew how to just "move on"; thought I was actually... sigh.

Jesus

JESUS, YESHUA, be my all in all... I NEED You. Show me it's You, and You alone I need above ALL things and ALL others.  Oh, how my heart hurts... I do NOT want to hurt ANY of Your children..

I'm running to Your arms... may the riches of Your love always be enough. Show my deceived heart, I pray. Oh, how I'm prone to wander... bring me home, Papa.

Your beloved child

Father's Day Pre-Season

I probably shouldn't even be on here... it is really not good (for others) when I am in, what a friend would call, this "place".  But I need the outlet so either bare with me or feel free to leave...


Today was Mother's Day... I LOVE being a mother, especially to the three Gifts with which I have been blessed.  However, it still felt incomplete... As I watched husbands celebrate their wives (as well they should), it becomes another reminder of not having "together".  (Have I mentioned that I love together?) My husband was always very good about Mother's Day... It was one day that he not only celebrated me as a mom, but he celebrated and appreciated "me". We were "Mommy AND Daddy"... we were a family. I LOVE being  a family.  I have always had a passion for my family... intense passion.  There is now a deep void...


It "feels" sub-standard... one mommy & children, no daddy. You know what? It IS sub-standard.  It is NOT God's standard.  It is NOT His heart for our family... I think that this is part of the "violence" that God describes in Malachi regarding divorce. The violent tearing at the heart and the soul of all those involved, but most wickedly, for the innocent children involved... oh, how my heart breaks.


I feel incredibly lonely (in good part by my own doing)... everyone is so busy living their lives while I feel, at best, "stalled".  It's as though everyone around me is just buzzing with "life" as I am spending most of my days barely keeping my head above water... some days, I'd rather just sink.  


This is not who I am... I am not, nor have been, one prone to great sadness.  Yet, it seems to have consumed me as of late.  I have had moments of great happiness, but even those must no longer be... 


Because God is good I know He will not leave me here, but I must confess I have little strength, if any, to get up and walk away from it, if that is what He is asking of me.


I miss feeling alive... I don't mind that I have been broken (in SO many ways and on SO many levels), in fact I have been grateful for it; but I feel like there have been things stripped away from me that are a part of who I am.  I feel like there are places in me that have died that were never intended to die... 


I feel like I am wandering around with open wounds, only half alive... 


I KNOW this is not God's plan for me. I KNOW He loves me too much to leave me this way...


Fill me Jesus... make me hunger and thirst for YOU ALONE... come and fill the emptiness, the void... renew my passion & joy for living... I miss me.  Find me again... for my good and Your glory.

The Best Job

I have done a lot of complaining lately about flying solo with this parenting thing...

It is HARD, the hardest thing I have ever done...

BUT... I LOVE being a mom. 

Thank you, Jesus for the precious gift of my beautiful girls... truly.

It is Not Well With My Soul

I was told all is well...  all is not well.  

My heart is so broken I find it hard to breath...

I will keep moving... 

Because while I am not able, my God is...

But today, all is NOT well...

Re-Re-Run (Not Special Olympics)

I was going back through my blog, as I sometimes do, and read one from a couple of years ago... I am both encouraged and discouraged... Encouraged because I know I am still standing (sort of); discouraged because I see how little my life has actually changed and the pain in which I still find myself.  I have copied and pasted part of one of those posts because it describes so clearly where I am... once again. "
                           
                                            "I am so thankful for the "good" days...the days filled with faith, hope, perseverance and strength. I am thankful because the "bad" ones can be really bad. I have had some of these lately. These are the days where all is tested...where you are actually making conscience decisions to take in air...where every ounce of energy is being used just to hold your head in an upright position. Will I hold on one more day? Can I bear anymore? There sits before me the contending of hope and heartache, the clashing of perseverance and pain, and ultimately the collision of faith and fear... Yet, when I choose to let go, when my choice is to trust Him, in the sweetness of surrender He takes my hand and leads me besides still waters, He makes me to lie down in the greenest of pastures and He restores my soul...I shall not want anything but more of Him."


I pray that Jesus will strengthen me to let go and trust Him in surrender... and that it will, indeed be sweet.  Take my hand, Jesus, and lead me beside still waters; lay me down, Lover of my soul, in the fresh, living pastures, where You will stand me to my feet, hand in Yours, walking barefoot through the plush grass and in those moments find peace; RESTORE my soul that I may not want ANY thing but more of You...


Jesus, pursue me with Your goodness and unfailing love, to the place where I respond overwhelmed by it, all the days of my life... that I will live in the house of the Lord and shall want for nothing... for I have been satisfied by You.

Silent Night

I had a voice mail this morning, that after just a few words (one which was my name), it cut off/out. I hated it... no, truly hate it.  


Silence is the silent killer...


Anyone that knows me knows that I am anything and maybe everything except silent.  To NOT speak is a level of personal hell to me... not even for the reasons that some may think either.  


I have had times were I have been 'called' to remain silent... I am in one such time.  It feels SO cold, heartless and worse, unloving; I fear, at the deepest levels, what it communicates to those most affected by it; yet I know it is what Jesus is asking of me... even requiring of me, if I truly love and desire freedom for all.


I have a list, a rather long list actually, of all the 'pros' that would reason avoiding this silent place... some really good things. But the list of why I MUST, has 13 'Pros' on it; and at the top of that list is the name Jesus... it is for these 13 'Pros', and these ALONE, that I will stand in silence.  There is an actual physical ache in my heart as I write these words...


My heart is ANYTHING but cold... it is bleeding actually.  But  my Papa had promised to be near and bind up the broken-hearted; I am choosing with my will and HIS strength to take Him at His word... 


Papa, I believe, but the pain is SO great... I am begging that You help me in my unbelief.  I NEED You to be everything You promised to be... and I'm not sure that I have the strength to go seeking; so even the strength I need to seek You, I ask, in Your abundant grace and mercy, to give me. 


I can NOT do this in my own strength... 


I am Yours... every broken, shattered piece of mess... 


If in the absolute hell of this silent place You bring freedom to ALL and glorify Yourself, then I shall remain... silent.

Heart Cry

Jesus, You continue to amaze me with Your unwavering, tenacious patience. Outside of Your love, it is Your patience that continues to truly awe me.  I want to see Your heart for me and not the pain of this life. May I see YOUR plan for me clearly and vividly. Cause me to desire it above my plans.  I know what I think is best for me (or rather, what I think I want)... but I also know that You have said my heart deceives me. Cause me to want what You want for me...  

You have said Your plans are to prosper me... change what I think prospering looks like. Deliver me from the plans of the enemy. Severe those things in my life which do not bring You glory... this is SO hard, even painful, to pray tonight.  Jesus, I am in FACT, desperate for You whether I recognize it, or "feel" it.  

Grant me the gift of repentance and Godly sorrow...  Transform me into Your likeness for YOUR glory, not mine.  Remind me, often, that apart from You I can do nothing. Give me a heart for YOU and YOU ALONE.  You alone are worthy... cause me to KNOW my need to surrender. Deliver me from me.  Cause me to trust that Your heart is toward me.  You ARE good... remind me often.  Show me that You ARE, indeed, enough; that Your grace is sufficient. 

In Your goodness, cover me in grace and an abundance of mercy... I can NOT do this without You.  I do not know how to start over... I haven't a clue what that even means or looks like. I know that it is You I need as my husband, best friend and lover. How will You do this? I believe, but help me in my unbelief.

In many ways, I feel like I am even starting over with You. Take what I thought I knew of You, seal what is true, and change my mind about ANYthing that is not... deliver me from any and all deceptions.  Show me things with which I have come into agreement that are not of or from You; and then give me the strength and courage to break them by the power of Your name.  Take my unthinkable sins and redeem them, somehow.  Heal and restore relationships that You want healed and restored.

Cause me to know, desire and then walk in truth... I want to worship You in spirit and in truth, with a pure and clean heart.  Wash me that I might be whiter than snow. 

Give me Your grace, forgiveness and patience, that I may give grace, forgiveness, and patience to those who may not/will not extend the same to me...

One thing I ask, one thing I seek: I want to dwell in the house of the Lord forever...

I bring these things to You, in the ONLY name in which there is grace, power, and true love: Jesus.

It's Not Always Beautiful

I need a safe place to lay out my heart...

I am just not sure where that is anymore.  

I did not think my heart could be more broken...

I need to exhale...

I need to stop thinking...

I really just want to stop everything.

Why does a shattered heart insist on beating?

Where do you go when you need to be held and there is no one to hold you?

Who wipes your tears... the ones you don't want anyone to see?  Not for the sake of hiding them, but for not being understood...

Why can I not die to myself...

I have never felt so weak in all my life...

I am wretched... there is no good thing in me, but Christ who dares live in me.

I am so sorry Papa, that I let you down... over and over and over again...

I am so sorry for failing to love well...

I am a Princess alright... a selfish one.

I  am desperate for You...

I have known too much...

But not enough of You.

Capture my heart again... if there is anything left...

Cause my heart to sing NO other name... Jesus.... Jesus...

Untame My Heart

Please indulge me again... this is a song that I came to know and love about 5 years ago (when I found myself in a cabin alone for 3 days "working things out" with Jesus).  I could have written this song. I found myself singing it in a parking lot yesterday as the deepest cry of my heart...

Untame my heart...
Cause me to run wild and free
In the love You have for me.

Open my eyes...
Let me look upon Your beauty
As if it was the first time I'd seen it.

Let me see You again...
Let me love You like I used to...

Renew my mind,
To the way it was before, Oh my Lord
I wanna think about you all the time.

Capture my gaze...
Be my only Love and my true Passion;
If only I can ask You this one thing:

Let me worship You forever.
Let me dwell with You all of my days.

And dance with me again...
Let the angels tell each other
Heaven's playing "our" song.

And wrap me in Your arms...
Sweep me off my feet into Your presence.
Ravished by You, ravished by You...

Unveil my face...
Offer Your hands to me, my Bridegroom;
Take me back to Your place.

Cause one thing I ask; one thing I seek:
To dwell in Your house
Forever and a day.

So dance with me again...
Let the angels tell each other
Heaven's playing "our" song.

Wrap me in Your arms...
Sweep me off my feet into Your presence.
Ravished by You, ravished by You.

Jessie (Rodgers) Goodman- Untame My Heart 

What Love is NOT

Warning: This is NOT going to be a warm and fuzzy post, guaranteed.  I am finding myself at a place of questioning that I have not been at in a VERY long time; at least to level that I am. 

I am angry.  I am hurt.  I am beyond accepting "right, christian" answers.  I have felt rejected by many of the people of God.  It was pointed out to me today, that I am not extending grace to those from whom I am not receiving grace; maybe so.  I guess that puts me at the highest form of hypocrisy... just add it to the list of stacking charges.  I know that when someone is in deep pain, even if some of that pain is brought on because of the individual's choice, it is overwhelming and becomes paralyzing to their ability to correct "wrong" thinking or feelings.

I want people to stop telling me what I should and shouldn't do... it's pissing me off.  When sharing my hurt about being given the cold shoulder and utterly ignored, I was told that people loved me, but are just unsure about how to respond to me or my circumstances right now.  But I know this... while FAR from perfect, I KNOW what it is to love when it is hard, even seemingly impossible.  I KNOW what it is to LOVE someone who has wronged you in the worst possible way.  I KNOW what it is to LOVE someone when it is not reciprocated.  I KNOW what it is to LOVE someone who not only has broken trust, and betrayed you, but who has utterly rejected you... in EVERY way.  I KNOW what it is to STILL LOVE, even til this very day, even in the midst of intense pain.  And I KNOW it does NOT look like has been expressed to me in the last few weeks, even months.  I do NOT have the all of the answers to what love "looks" like, nor will I pretend to, but I know it's not been this...

I am at the place where I feel (I know, not a safe word) like I have been eating an incredibly healthy diet and am dying of cancer anyway... 

Please... I know all of the "right" christian answers here, so if you feel the need to comment, keep this in mind.  Somewhere, in the deepest recesses of my soul, I know I will look back at this short "pitiful" post one day and be deeply saddened that I got to this place after all of the standing I have done for so long... but it is where I am right now...

I am SO alone...

Untitled

I'm just done...
With everything...
I want to go home...

Just As I Am

I so wish I had some profound words to post here tonight... but I have nothing.  I have nothing but brokenness... broken in every possible way.  I am beginning to wonder if that is all for I which I was created... to be profoundly and continually broken.  I know all the right "christian" answers, but that is all that is to me right now is "christianese".  I LOVE Jesus, and He loves me... that's all I know tonight and I pray that is enough. 


This is one of my favorite hymns.  It has been coming to my mind all evening and it is my spirit's cry that is at war with my flesh:

I'd rather have Jesus than silver or gold;
I'd rather be His than have riches untold:
I'd rather have Jesus than houses or lands.
I'd rather be led by His nail-pierced hand

Than to be the king of a vast domain

Or be held in sin's dread sway.
I'd rather have Jesus than anything
This world affords today.

I'd rather have Jesus than men's applause;
I rather be faithful to His dear cause;
I'd rather have Jesus than worldwide fame.
I'd rather be true to His holy name.

He's fairer than lilies of rarest bloom;
He's sweeter than honey from out the comb;

He's all than my hungering spirit needs.
I'd rather have Jesus and let Him lead

Than to be the king of a vast domain
Or be held in sin's dread sway.
I'd rather have Jesus than anything
This world affords today.

I pray that my heart allows this longing of my spirit to override it's selfish and sinful desires.

For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. Philippians 1:21

My Jesus... I love Thee.

All I Need

Sufficient

Adie Camp

Hear my heart Lord as I cry out to You
Hear my prayer Lord and carry me through
In Your mercy in the promise You made
Be my strength Lord when my strength fades away

Cause when I am weak Your strength is complete
It's perfect
Completely all I need
Sufficient for me
Your grace and peace are perfect
Completely all I need
You're all that I need

In my weakness I'm finding Your strength
In my sorrow a gentle embrace
Through the seasons of laughter or pain
You are listening
When I call out Your name

I'll find You when I seek
I'll look for You with all of my heart
And I'll find You when I'm weak
Cause You are strong

Hear my heart Lord as I cry out to You
Hear my prayer Lord and carry me through
Carry me through

You Can't Handle the Truth

Tonight, believe it or not, I have few words...

I do NOT understand God... it's not that I have ever tried to "figure Him out", it's just that when I think I might know Him, He changes.  I know... bad terminology.  HE doesn't change, but my understanding or perception of Him does.  He perplexes my intellect. He confounds my doctrine. He crushes my precepts, dogma and persuasions. 

It's not that truth, as I have presumed it, is no longer true. There is absolute truth.  Whether I believe something to be true or not does not change the veracity of truth. 

But... what if the vastness of truth is so far beyond my comprehension, that even attempts to understand it, prove the most futile of pursuits. 

I find myself tonight, and perhaps in a season of, an overwhelming sense of consternation.  I am experiencing aspects of what have the appearance of intense grace, but what most would consider "bad theology"... even I.  I don't know what to do with it...

My intellect "warns" of possible deception... but my spirit, the dwelling place of the Spirit of God, resists such a judgment, such reasoning.  "It" cuts deeply and vehemently through my conjectures and suppositions...

Have I so grossly underestimated the magnitude of God's grace that I cannot even recognize it?  Have I prostituted His goodness for "good theology"? 

I am genuinely struggling to put into words all that I am feeling and questioning...

What I know tonight is, that God is infinitely more than I can grasp... His love and His grace are indescribably... extravagantly... more than I can possibly absorb...

'Nuff said.

Nothing Really

I realize that anyone could read this meaningless little blog; but I have made the decision, that as I write, I will do so without thinking about any specific readers.   I need to have the freedom to write whatever is on my heart or mind without being concerned about who or how it may affect a potential reader; or burden myself with thoughts of someone questioning my motives in writing on certain topics.

This is MY blog.  It is an outlet for me, an escape of sorts.  It is where I can be overtly Steffanie... please allow me the freedom to do that.  I welcome your comments. In fact, I actually look forward to "discovering" them... they are like little gifts (cheesy I know, but honest).  I enjoy hearing the feedback of your thoughts on the subject or even (gulp) how I presented the subject.

I am going to pray here tonight...  I don't even really know why, except that tonight I need to cry out Jesus and as you read you can pray with me if you'd like

Father,

You alone are worthy.  You are good and kind.  Your grace and patience are beyond my ability to understand... thank you is SO trite but it is all I have.  I love and adore You.  Your provisions are countless.  It is in Your presence that I find the deepest peace...

Cast me not away from Your presence, Oh God. Take not Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me, the joy of Your salvation; and renew a right spirit within me.

Papa, you know the deepest needs of my heart... I do not.  I know that my heart deceives me; it guides me into places that are not safe for me.  Help me discern safe places.  My heart Lord, is shattered... maybe beyond repair.  Only You know.

I bring some especially close friends before You tonight... seal them in love and bind them together in perfect peace. Bring healing and wholeness.  Give me words of life that I may speak over them as I pray for them.

Forgive me Father,  I am going to sleep now... I cannot even keep my eyes open to finish this.  I love and adore You. May Your grace abound! But ultimatey, may You be glorified!

I bring these things to You in the precious name of JESUS.  Amen.




**I actually wrote this last night... apparently, I fell asleep and woke up 10 hours later to find I had not posted it... I needed that-Thank You, Jesus.

Home Alone

I'm having trouble sleeping yet another night... so I thought I would come and hang out here for awhile.  Maybe I will bore myself to sleep. 

I am struggling a little tonight with some jealousy.  Random right?  It actually surprises me a little.  This is something with which I have I not struggled much.  If any of you reading this know me personally, you know my where life has been and is.  So all things considered, I really have not battled this much, albeit odd. 

I think the catalyst is seeing some of the people around me having what used to be mine.  Being married to your best friend, the one who would die for you.  The one who lays beside you, laughing at the truly dumbest things together; and the one who lays beside you who holds you while you cry together.  Convincing the children you are going upstairs to take a Sunday afternoon "nap".  Sharing inside jokes that no one else in the room gets but the two of you.  Still being friends... while having them walk through the hell of life with you... that's what I envy the most right now... even if it's a hell created by the one of you, you still get to walk it out together.  There is power in that... there is power in being together.  I really miss together. 

It's not all of the feelings of romantic love that I miss, while great, those have a shelf life, in any relationship.  It is that place of just knowing someone else has your back...always.  That at the end of a really bad day, you get to end it with someone you love and who loves you back.  Being with the person whose footsteps you know; whose cough, laugh,and even sniff, you would know without hesitation.  It's being together even with other couples or families and getting to go home together and share the memories of those times.  It is getting to watch and hear some pretty neat stuff with your children and share the memories of the moments... together.  I find myself having to fight through these feelings as I watch husbands usher their wives out of church with children in tow... leaving together;  as I walk out to my minivan (a family vehicle) and sink into the dreaded driver's seat... alone.  I really miss together.  

I had a close friend confide in me recently about some frustrations of their, just under 20 year, marriage.  This friend shared about, what I would describe as, the mundane and menial things that are very common at that length marriage.  May I propose, that those things that would be considered mundane, menial, common, maybe even at times boring, are the very things that provide safety, security and on some level, comfort... why? Because they are being done together.   Embrace it.  Cherish it.  Be intentional.  Make memories... together.  You are living in the days that you will talk about for the rest of your life, should you get the gift of longevity.  I am telling you, on this side... alone... is far worse than together. 

   

Not Bad Lookin' For a Fat Chic

This post will be short and sweet... ok, mostly short.  I have come to the conclusion that I have become so much more sinister, cynical and negative than I ever wanted be.  I'm going to spend some more time with Daddy to get to the root of it.  I hate it.  Primarily, because I see it present its ugly head most often toward my children.  Rather than looking for the best, I simply seem to see only the worst.   The most hideous thing about that is (gulp) I have become much to quick to point it out.

I am going to do what I do NOT want to do here... confess.  (It is always so much worse when you have to actually say it.)  Let me give you an example.  As soon as my oldest, teenage daughter got into the van after school, the very first words out of my mouth were, "Is that really what you wore to school today? Why don't you care how sloppy that looks?" She just rolled her eyes.  Mind you, she was completed covered.  Nothing inappropriate- for which I should be (and am) glad.  I have other friends with quite the opposite problem. But it didn't end there.  I went on. (Bigger gulp.) "Did you even wash your mascara off last night before bed... it's all running under your eyes." She turned her head away from me and just stared out the window.  What's wrong with me??

Part of me justifies my actions. Deplorable as they may be.  I know people treat you differently depending on how you look... I know this by experience.  I was treated one way as an obese woman (that's a whole other blog); but quite differently when I got smaller; from people at the mall to people at church.  It's true. 

Let me digress for a moment.  Just a couple of weeks ago I was in a conversation with some very close friends of mine.  They confronted me about something I had done/said in relationship to the husband.  I asked them if what I did and said would have been seen differently, if one: I were in a healthy marriage; two: if I was still fat.  The answer? YES.  I could have done and said the EXACT same thing and the response would have just been, "Oh, that's just Steffanie."  They literally admitted this to me. How I looked factored into how even some of my closest adult friends, treated me or responded to my interaction with them.  It matters.

How do I balance this unfortunate reality, with the efforts of teaching my girls to not allow what others think of them to affect who they are... but it does.  (I have now gone in a completely different direction than first I intended here.)  But the question is one that continues to push to the forefront with me.  How do I balance this for myself.  I used to, almost  obsessively, never leave the house without makeup.  When you are obese, people make assumptions about you; you are lazy, undisciplined, and a slob.  I worked to counteract these stereotypes.  If you are being honest, if a skinny girl walks into Walmart with a holey sweatshirt and sweatpants, you probably won't even notice her.  But if a woman (or man for that matter) walked in wearing the same thing at 250 pounds, those assumptions begin to cross your mind.  They have mine.  So I fought to be the "cute" "big" girl; by what I wore, and never being seen without makeup. I wish I could give you a count of how many times I heard, "You have such a pretty face." FYI- we "big" girls KNOW what that really means: "You're not bad looking for a fat chic."  I'm not just being funny here.  Have you ever heard that said, or thought it, about a skinny girl? Have you ever heard someone say to a thin woman "You have such a pretty face"? Yeah, me either.  It matters.

I have a lot more freedom in how I look... do I want to present myself well? Sure.  But it doesn't drive me like it used to.  I prefer to wear my makeup, but I don't stress if I am "caught" without it.  I wear sweatpants, holey jeans and grungy work shirts.  Would I still do that if I were obese? I don't know.  But I know I am beginning to care less what others think of me... or am I now just transferring that to what others think of my daughter? Ugh.

I am sure I will continue to revisit this issue... it is too cyclical to not.  Until then, I am going to work at God's instruction to "...encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today...".  You know what, my daughter looked...um, uh... comfortable! Yeah, comfortable.  Comfortable in her own skin... I want to be like her when I grow up.

Giant Print Edition

Wow.  Just started typing out this post and went back to increase the font size because I couldn’t see what I was typing.  That has determined the direction of this post.  Let’s do something a little more light hearted than several of the previous musings.

Aging sucks.  I am not even forty yet…I know, it’s creeping; but the aging process has been increasingly noticeable in the last year.  I would like to fault the events of life’s recent circumstances, and perhaps they have played a part; but overall it is just the suckiness (yeah, that’s right suckiness- is that with an i or a y?) of pushing 40. 

When did the distinction between my butt and legs vanish?  Or at what precise moment did I mistake my hands for my mother’s? (No intended offense Mother, but you are 23 years older than I.) Dear lord, do I even want to go into facial hair?  It’s like I woke up one morning and could create a locks-of-loves donation for the Chin Hair Club for Women; and that’s a whole separate issue from the verity that I now have more chins than the Chinese phone book (this is not a racial slur; it could be likened to saying- more Schmidt than a German outhouse, just not as fitting.) 

Now, I will say the “up” side to the bust issue is just that.  With age, and having nursed three children, if I want to wear them up, I can wear them up.  If I want to wear them down, I can wear them down.  I can now even wear them to the side. Versatility.  That’s how I’m gonna roll with it (as the whippersnappers say). Nevertheless, I am still frustrated with the whole concurrent arrival of wrinkles AND zits… one of life’s greatest injustices. 

I have also become aware, that I no longer simply arise from a chair… I lean, slide and push up. What is that??  My knees also sound like Rice Krispies upon both, the ascent and descent, of the freaking stairs.  I don’t even know if I can stomach the details regarding hair.  Why is it, that for every two hairs I lose, only one GREY hair replaces it?  Those ratios are completely out of proportion… and SO not in my favor.  Those of you with great hair (and you so know who you are), should be on your face before our Creator in humble thanksgiving for your crown of glory. (Blehk…I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth.)

Okay, well I had the early bird special; watched 60 minutes from the davenport; and the sun has already set so I should probably turn in for the night (I love my Craftmatic Adjustable).  Anybody seen my bi-focals so I can see where to shut off this new-fangled piece of machinery? :/

Tonight's Menu: Lentil Loaf

I don't want to post something on here just to be posting.  I don't want to use up words and space without meaning.  Yet, as I have mentioned in many a post, I often "get" something from Papa when I begin to write.  Although, I am beginning to wonder if He has anything to say to or through me right me now. 

I have heard it said recently, that the Teacher usually  remains silent during a test.  What if I have taken the test and failed?  It is not the failure of the test that is so disconcerting (although painful);  I just know, because God is a good Teacher, that He will "allow" me to take the test again and again until I pass it.  He wants me to pass.  He produces provisions for me to pass.  My spirit says, "Then how can I fail?!" But my soul cries out, "What if it's no longer in me?".  What if I just want to lay my head down on the desk and go to sleep?  Can I just drop out? 

A close friend and I were grappling with this very matter today.  Pain can often times be SO deep, SO intense, SO chronic and unrelenting, that many times we are willing to do just about anything to make it stop.  We want to believe anything that remotely offers to immobilize it,  lessen the frequency of it, or at least provide respite from it. 

I think one of the enemy's greatest deceptions is to tempt us into believing, if we throw in the proverbial towel, that things will get easier.  If we would just cease from waging war... if we would wave the notorious white flag... if we surrender in defeat...resign; then the pain would no longer overwhelm us.  We could get off the tumultuous treadmill of anguish and grief.  No longer would perpetual rejection, justifiable anger, or addiction battle against our emotions or actions.  It may not be freedom in its truest sense or even how we want to experience it, but it would be relief. So we think.

I am reminded of David's three "mighty men"(2 Samuel 23:8-13).  Adino killed 800 men at one time. Eleazer defied the Philistines, after the rest of the men of Israel retreated, by attacking them "until his hand was weary, and his hand stuck to his sword." Finally, Shammah, also abandoned by his troops, "stationed himself in the middle of a lentil field, defended it, and killed the Philistines."  The scriputure pronounces that God brought about great victories through them... for an entire nation.

I can only surmise that, after oh, let's say a couple/few hundred defeated, Adino would have hoped that his battle was soon over. Certainly he was exhausted. Worn down. Despondent, no less.   What if he had stopped there?  What if he stopped at 799?  I am left to wonder if there would have been victory... 

Eleazer? "Determined" is a grotesque understatement.  He was indomitable. What kind of man fights until there is such a grip on his sword that it becomes one with his hand?  Surely he was in excruiating pain.  I reason that it is entirely probable that he lost his hand.  I propose that he considered liberating the sword to save his hand.  Would he experience a sense of relief each time he looked at his fully intact hand; or would the bitterness of defeat haunt him? 

Finally, Shammah. (He's my favorite.)  A lentil patch? Really?  There he was, in the middle of a field, deserted by his troops, surrounded by Philistines.  I can almost hear him. "My family and I tilled this field.  I toiled in this field.  I planted these lentils. I watched over these lentils. I watered these lentils. I weeded these lentils.  I'm going to flippin' eat them!"  What audaciouness.  Could it be that he reconsidered his stand? Might he, standing alone, surrounded by the enemy, have begun to reach for the white flag?  How could he not have weighed out the inevitable fatigue, the foreseeable defeat, the utter hopelessness of a victory, the likelyhood of making his wife a widow?  Retreating must have looked like wisdom... His wife may have had a husband, but would their nation prosper?

I don't know what lies ahead... I do not even know what to expect with the sun's rising, except that it will.  I do know I want to be "done" in so many areas and in so many ways.  My flesh is ready to liberate the sword, retreat in exhaustion, or at least seek a temporary respite.  BUT, if I choose to not press on, will the Lord give me a great victory?

I too, wanna eat my flippin' lentils... I pray I have the strength to stand.

Memoirs of a Midget

I have gone back and forth about whether or not I would post this.  I have decided it is just to "rich" not to do it.  Our middle daughter has a birthday the end of February.  She will be 12 this year (omg).  She has recently learned that this is a leap year and is fascinated by it.  While on the trip home from school she begins, once again, to wonder out loud about it. 

"Mommy, you know that if I had been born on leap year I would technically only be 3."

Smiling, "Yes, honey I understand what you are what saying. But not necessarily technically. You would still be 12."

Deeply serious, "Ok? But I was wondering, Mom.  If I had been born on leap year would I still be in a really little body like when I was three?"

With every ounce of volitional choice to forbid the eruption of laughter, I choke out, "Ahem, um... no, Sweetie. You would still have grown into the body you have now."

* I adore this child. She is simple and exact.  She is on the honor roll.  Yet, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I am still brooding over how this child was produced by my husband and me.

** I am expectantly awaiting her next inquiry. "So were midgets born on leap years?"

*** Yes, I know the "pc" terminology is "little people", but she would say midget! :o) 

You Never Let Go

 

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Your perfect love is casting out fear
And even when I'm caught in the middle of the storms of this life
I won't turn back
I know you are near.

And I will fear no evil
For my God is with me
And if my God is with me
Whom then shall I fear?
Whom then shall I fear?

Oh no, You never let go
Through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, You never let go
In every high and every low
Oh no, You never let go
Lord, You never let go of me

And I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
A glorious light beyond all compare
And there will be an end to these troubles
But until that day comes
We'll live to know You here on the earth.

Yes, I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
And there will be an end to these troubles
But until that day comes
Still I will praise You, still I will praise You!

Worship with me...

Private Ponderings (well, kinda)

I am sitting in a “park”… should be working, I know.  However, I am thoroughly distracted by the ponderings of my own hypocrisy.  I have preached, exhorted, encouraged, even demanded of people that I love, to “take their thoughts captive”.  Yet, I feel as though my own feeble attempts to do so are like trying to lasso the wind.  Tell me I am not alone in this.  Why can I not seem to walk out the very thing I have “sermonized” so many times?  I have not been without victory in this… so why is this SO hard now?

I have come to the point in my life where I despise my own humanity.  I know these are things as Christians we are not say out loud, but I am so over that… I told a friend recently that I believed part of my calling was to speak life, abundant life into others.  How could I possibly speak into someone what I cannot seem to live out?  I KNOW that Jesus has and wants more for me… I KNOW that… but my heart cannot seem to grasp this.  It is as if everything I have ever learned has been thrown out the proverbial window…

As one who often operates within my intellect, I am finding it increasingly difficult to know what to do with all of the questions of the heart that cannot be “answered”.  If I were looking at myself and my circumstances from the outside, I would know exactly how I would counsel me.   Let me try to articulate what I mean. I would say, “You have legs… I know you don’t feel like you do, but you do.  Now on that truth, get up and walk.”   I get that.  But somewhere I must not really believe my legs, if I still have them, will really allow me to walk… or is it that I don’t believe that walking will really be better than not walking.  Am I making any sense at all?

Please do not leave me any comments about how I need to quit trying to “figure it out”.  I am really quite tired of hearing people tell me that… it is part of how I am wired. Deal with it. (Sorry, that was a little harsh.)  I need a safe place to just be honest about where I am… right now, that place is here.

Whoever you are, wherever you are… thanks for “listening”.

Coming Out of the Closet

Most often, I am fairly insightful when it comes to discerning specific issues or concerns with my children.  But yesterday I had something occur with my youngest that I still have yet to uncover.

Let me give you some background.  My husband and I conceived twins 16 years ago. I gave birth to death on July 25, 1996.  Our son and daughter were not even one pound each and died in womb.  We knew, for two excruciatingly longs days, that their tiny lives had ceased  before their delivery, but were uncertain as to their sex.  My husband, without that knowledge (of gender) declared their names: Joshua and Jennifer. The doctor's initial pronouncement was that they were girls, but after closer examination (they were so tiny and had already begun to decompose in womb) realized that one, in fact, was a little boy.  Our only son.  To maintain the focus of this post, I do not need to go into the detail of that season of our life... that may be for another day.

We have talked openly about the twins (and two miscarriages) with our living children.  We have taken them to the cemetery to see where their brother and sister are buried.  Our girls also know that, as sad and painful as it was for us, if Jesus had not taken Joshua and Jennifer home, we would not have them and we would not want it differently.

Shortly following their birth/death, my mother gave me a set of Lennox porcelain dolls.  Newborn babies. Twins.  A baby boy dressed in a blue sleeper with a tiny blue blanket; and a girl in the same but in pink. Both with their eyes closed... so peaceful.  I keep them "displayed" in my closet on a shelf.  The girls have been reminded countless times who they represent and that they are not toys.

Present day... I was in the bathroom yesterday, getting ready to come out, when I  noticed my youngest daughter (8yo)  standing in the doorway.  She was cradling the boy baby doll tightly in her arms and close to her chest.  She burst into tears and cried, "I WANT A BROTHER!"... more tears. She just looked at me with tears streaming down her face and then held "him" up to her face to nuzzle him more closely.  I simply walked over to her and drew her into my chest.  I assured her that she was certainly feeling a lot of emotions right now and was probably really tired too... what could I say?

I don't want to psycho-analyze her, but I do not want to ignore it either.  So I suppose this particular post is really to take in any of your thoughts, discernment or counsel.

I confess, there are days I am so thankful that some of my children were spared the pain of this life...

Awh, Fatty!

I realize that what I am about to post some of you will not find nearly as funny as I do (ahem, those of the maternal nature).  May I remind you that this is MY blog. :)  I have been in enough of a funk lately that I literally watched the following video enough times that I began the "awh, Fatty!" laugh* that I have not done in a very long time.  You don't have to think it's funny... but more than likely, you'll watch it more than once. :D

*"Awh, Fatty" is a bit by Adam Sandler- this is what my husband affectionately calls me when I start laughing until I wheeze.  It became slightly awkward for other people (to our amusement) to hear him say that to me as a (then) obese woman!

I guess this would make me the "black lung"