Category Archives: Growing up Me

Do those come in elastic waist?

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Here she is, the legend, the one that daisy dukes were named for. Daisy herself. How did she get those on I wonder?

I don’t often reminisce about my short shorts days, but today I allowed myself a stroll down memory lane when a beautiful blond with no more than 6 inches of denim covering her booty walked past our table at lunch.

My first thought was, “I wonder how it feels to, not only be able to fit in a pair of shorts found in the toddler section, but still have range of motion while doing so?”

Was I jealous? I think maybe I was…a little…for a second. Don’t get me wrong, I stand by my mantra, “Love the body you’re in.” I love my body. It serves me well. I just wish sometimes that there wasn’t so much of it.

This got me thinking, “Do other women feel this way when a cute little booty adorned in stretched denim passes by?” Are there women who don’t even notice? How is that possible?

Okay, if we are being painfully honest here I will say that the next thought through my mind was, “Why did that skinny little be-otch have to walk passed me on a day like today when I reluctantly stuffed myself into shorts that I haven’t worn in… oh… 3 years, just to show me what I don’t look like? The one time I put my pride aside and my less than tan legs on display I’m sharing a room with the inspiration for the song, “I’m sexy and I know it.” I wanted to cover myself with the vinyl tablecloth. Pathetic, I know.

I wish I could tell you that the next thing that came to mind was Psalm 139 and thoughts of how beautiful I am to my Creator and to my man who treats me like a goddess. It wasn’t. The next thing to surface was justification. “Well, Marilyn Monroe was a size 16 and she was smokin’.” “I rock my curves!” “I’ve had 3 children. T h r e e!” “Thin isn’t the biggest deal and neither is a tan! I want to be healthy and white! After all, vampires are the latest craze and they are paler than I am.” “Yeah. That’s right. I’m hot.”

Now enjoy the part where my rationalization comes crumbling down around me.
~ By today’s sizes it is believed that Marilyn would have been a 6/8. (There goes that theory)
~ I have grown accustomed to and even fond of my curves. However, a muffin top or shelf butt are not technically the curves that one likes to “rock.”
~ True, I have had 3 kiddos and with each one worked out less afterwards. It’s difficult to maintain the excuse that it’s baby weight when my baby is 4!
~ Thin is just as big a deal as it has been for as long as I can remember. Everything looks better tan, especially fat and while being healthy is important, thin is more times than not, healthier than pudge.
~ Just for the record, most days I do feel hot. I mean, it’s been over 100 degrees here for the last month!

Seriously, I’m not lacking in self-esteem and for someone who struggled for so many years with self-loathing behavior, I’d say that’s a pretty huge statement. I just wish that I could tell you that having a healthy marriage, beautiful children, everything I have ever dreamed of in this life, would keep me from looking at “little miss tight buns” and being envious. But alas, I can not. I would be lying.

It’s interesting what topics have come up in the last week for me. Words like “enough.” When it comes to size, attitude and fiestiness, I’m more than enough. When it comes to viewing myself as the Beloved through the eyes of my Master, I could use some work.

So today, right now, here in this moment, Daisy can keep her dukes and Marilyn her 24″ waist. I’m good. Now, what’s for dinner?!

To download a PDF version of the Psalm click on one of the links below
Psalm 139
Psalm 139 text version

* Media was taken from google

Five Minute Friday: Enough

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It’s #FiveMinuteFriday free write time! Where a flash mob of folks spend five minutes all writing on the same topic and then share ‘em over here.

GO:

When I saw the prompt for this week I couldn’t help but smile. This is something I have been thinking of daily for the last several weeks. So much so that when certain thoughts creep into my mind I ask myself, “What exactly is enough?” “When will it ever be…enough?”

I have always been challenged when it comes to balance. I am excessive. If I like it, I want more. There are times when this way of thinking has me defeated before ever beginning. And it is a daily struggle.

When I walk into my closet and see the rows of shoes, each in their separate clear container, My immediate thought is, “excess.” Ew. That isn’t a positive word. Many things in my life associated with that word aren’t good. Excess weight, excess waste, excess worry…and many more. How do I combat that?

My goal over the next 7 days is to train my mind to say, “It’s enough.” “I am enough.”

I wrote a post several months ago claiming my word for the year. Enough. However, a year is too big for me. It’s excessive. I give up before starting. I must live in this 24 hours given this moment given. This moment is enough.

So enough excuses. Starting now, it’s time to re-train my brain, in small doses of course…as things arise. To do more than that at one time deems me useless.

“It is not enough to be busy. So are the ants. The question is: What are we busy about?”
Henry David Thoreau

STOP

Mixed Blessings

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The word “Mixed” by definition means; containing a mixture of both favorable and negative elements. While the word “Blessing” means; a beneficial thing for which one is grateful; something that brings well-being. I have had a bit of experience with mixed blessings. You?

I hear interesting conversations about in-laws. Sometimes I think that they were put here to make holidays stressful. When discussing this sensitive subject with several girlfriends I asked how different their lives would be if they didn’t have a mother-in-law. This brought a smile to most of their faces. (If you’re a mother-in-law who’s already feeling offended, just hang with me.)

I then asked how it would change things had they never met their husband’s mother. They agreed that they have learned a great deal about their man from talking with his mother.

The truth is, I have never met my mother-in-law. We talked on the phone when I was a teenager, but she passed away before I was able to sit down and share in conversation over a cup of coffee or give her a hug and breathe in her unique smell that would later bring her to memory when a passerby was wearing the same scent. I was not able to ask her how she survived being a full-time working single mother.

When Chris and I were apart for a time I would have dreams about Lou Ann. We would be sitting in a cafe having conversations about life. I would wake up the next morning with her on my mind and throughout the day I felt a closeness to her.

Weird, I know. Especially for someone I had never even met. Eventually the relentless persuasion of thoughts to write Christopher a letter about his mother, whom he loved dearly and I had never met, led me to a pen and paper. My hand could not move as quickly as the words formed in my mind.

Suddenly, I was speaking of this woman I had never known as if we had been in each others company on a regular basis. I explained in the letter that I knew it sounded crazy, but there were things I felt she would want him to know. I then held on to it.

The next time I was in New York Chris and I had dinner and talked about our lives over the last couple of years. I nervously gave him the letter knowingly that he would probably think I was nuts. I asked him not to read it until the day I left. It was April 17th, two years to the day that his mother had passed away. I was not aware of that at the time.

Many things have fallen into place between then and now. Things I never dreamed possible. All I have of Lou Ann are a few photos and the memories that Chris shares with me.

She was an Educator. Brilliant. Beautiful. Strong. She was a fighter. A Survivor. She is my husband’s mother. Isn’t she stunning?

I was never able to ask her about Chris’ childhood…when he cut his first tooth or if he tried to climb out of his crib the way our oldest son did.

“What was his first word?” “When was the first time he tried rice cereal?” “Did he like sweet potatoes as much as my boys did?”

“What was his favorite lullaby when he awoke afraid in the middle of the night?” “Did she rock him to sleep?” “When was his first haircut? Did she cut it or take him somewhere to have it cut? Did he scream the way our youngest does?” “Did he have a favorite blanket or toy?” “How old was he when he took his first step?” “When did he lose his first tooth?” “What was his favorite thing to do?” “Do our boys look like him?” “Do they have the same mannerisms?” “When did he skin his knee for the first time?” “What is your favorite memory from his childhood?” “Has he always loved to draw and create?”

A vital question I wish I could have asked before going into labor with our first son is,
“How big was Chris’ head when he was born?” and “How long was your labor?”

So many questions unanswered. So many moments missed that I know she would have cherished.

Our children know her as “Lulu.” And as far as they’re concerned, heaven is filled with balloons released from their little hands while blowing kisses to the sky.

It’s been some time since I have found her on the other side of sleep, waiting in a cafe, to talk about my boys and compare notes over coffee and hot tea, I can only hope that I will find her there again sometime.

I am incredibly grateful to her for taking care of the love of my life. For making sure that he was provided for and prepared to face a world of both disappointment and triumph, ugliness and beauty.

I know, in-laws can be rather challenging (to say the least.) But they can also be a wonderful resource into the things that made our spouse who they are today. They are much like, “mixed blessings.”

I would love to hear your thoughts on extended family. What’s the craziest thing that has ever happened at a “family” event or around your diner table? Do you get along with your mother-in-law?

A letter…to myself

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I wrote this back in November. Many of you have already read it. After several asks about “The Letter” I decided to re-post it. So, if you have already read it, read it again. Maybe you will find something that wasn’t there before. If you haven’t, maybe it will serve you in a way that you needed today.

Writing letters to myself or to those with whom I can no longer speak, is nothing new to me. I have not done it in quite some time, but it’s not a new concept. Therapists, institutions, sponsors and spiritual advisers have been using it for years.

For months I have been thinking about what I would say to my 13 year old daughter, Isabella. Not about very specific things, but about life in general. The overall picture. What it looks like when there are several chapters and one can flip back through the pages.

I have been completely stumped.

She and I talk about everything. I do not sugarcoat or hold very much back with her. I want her to know what the world is like without paralyzing her with fear. I want her to be armed with knowledge so that she has the necessary tools when things arise.

I want her to grasp that God is loving and forgiving. And at the same time know that there are decisions one can make that will carry a heavy price and be with you for the rest of your life.

It was not until about a week ago that it occurred to me to write the letter to myself.

The picture is one that I chose my first year in sobriety when my sponsor told me to think of how old I was when I abandoned my true self.

She told me to put it in a beautiful frame and place it beside my bed and every morning when I woke up and every night before I went to bed, I was to say to that little girl, “I’m sorry I abandoned you all those years ago. I’m here now and I am picking up your hand and will walk through this with you.”

I thought she was crazy, but I did it.
I did whatever she told me to do because I was desperate and fighting for my life.

She had been sober for more than 24 hours so I knew she had something that I didn’t.

Now, more than 9 years later, I can understand exactly why she had me do this exercise and why she made me make my bed and tell the truth about absolutely everything as I would have lied about things as simple as, “Did you brush your teeth this morning?”

The picture is no longer by my bed. It has been tucked away in a drawer where I can look at it whenever needed, but I don’t feel the need to apologize to the little girl staring back at me.

So here is my humble attempt at giving myself advice…if I could…which of course I can’t…but I can give it to Bella, when I have the courage. What she does with it is entirely up to her.

Dear Joy,

If you remember nothing else except this one paragraph, you will be okay.
It’s this, God is good, all the time, even when it doesn’t feel like it. He has a plan and purpose for your life. It will have very little to do with outward appearance and everything to do with your heart, mind and spirit, which I believe encompass your soul.

I know that you are only a child, but if you will take these things I am going to tell you and trust them as if your life depended on it, you will look back with fewer regrets, less sorrow and more fulfillment.

Learn all you can. Keep your mind open to the beautiful things that God puts in front of you everyday. Find a scripture that you love, it can be one sentence, memorize it and hide it away in your heart. When the world begins to tell you lies, and they will, quickly bring it to the forefront of your mind and bathe in it’s truth.

Know that, though your parents are far from perfect, they are doing the best they can with what they have including the knowledge they have been given. There will be times when you don’t understand their decisions or rulings, but just know that there is a reason that many years ago God was telling children to respect their father and mother.

Ultimately, you are accountable to God and no one else. However, until you are of age to understand this concept and use it in a wise way, you will sit under the authority of your parents.

Don’t get so caught up in appearance. Honestly, looks fade and eventually what you have on the inside begins to show more than what you look like on the outside. There is a transparency of sorts that happens over time that is beyond your control and if you have not been nurturing your spirit, you will not reflect the light of the Father as you are capable of doing.

Boys are going to notice you. You will not be ready emotionally for this kind of attention. This is when you take shelter under the authority of your parents. You may not agree with everything they say, but there is protection from things that you have yet seen.

If you remember whose you are, you will remember who you are.

There will come a time when you feel lost. That’s okay. Again, this will probably happen while you are still under the authority of your parents. They won’t understand. That’s okay too. This is when you can begin to build a solid relationship with your Heavenly Father. It is in this time, He will be the only one who understands.

You don’t have to abuse your body by restricting food or overusing substances. Your body truly is a temple. The Holy Spirit lives in you and though this is your earthly shell, you will have it for some time and how well it runs is up to you.

You do not have to give yourself away. I don’t just mean physically. I mean mentally and emotionally as well. If you could pour all of the energy that you use seeking approval from others, into learning and owning what the Father thinks of you, you will build an unshakeable foundation.

Life does not come without difficulties. If someone tries to tell you otherwise, run as far and as fast as you can away from them.

There will be pain. When the pain comes, the thing that will serve you most is your faith in Christ. Knowledge is great, but you will always be told that you need more of it, there is never enough. Faith is what will come to your rescue in times of darkness.

There will be times when you make decisions that you regret. That’s okay. Deal with them promptly and move on. God says that when we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us and remember them no more. If the Creator of the Universe is capable of that, you certainly can be.

Don’t allow anyone to make you feel small. It is not without your permission that they will intrude on your heart. Keep your mind strong and filled with truth so that you are able to quickly combat anything negative that is thrown at you.

You are a child of the most high King. Beautiful, treasured, sacred in His eyes. Rest in the promise that His plan is perfect. He has the best life that you are capable of living all laid out for you. I know you can’t see it now, but you will.

One day, as you look back, you will see how it unfolded before your eyes like a well written story. That’s what it is really. You are His story. Better yet, His masterpiece and there is no one better to write your story than He.

You are the co-author. Don’t forget that. You most certainly have to do your part, but He is ultimately the Author and finisher.

You are beautiful. Not because of the clothes you wear or the attention from others or anything exterior. It is because you are a light in a dark world.

Others will see that light and want to know how to have it themselves. Be ready to share your faith. Everything that you are learning is leading you to a place where, when the time comes, you can share eternity with the lost.

And truly, nothing matters more than knowing the One who created you, who had you in mind before He formed you in your mother’s womb. It is a lifelong journey seeking Him. But along the way, you will have the opportunity to share what you are learning and grasping, which could in turn change a life.

I know, you will question whether you are someone who God can use to help others. Believe me, you are. He is grooming you for greatness. Making you more to His likeness. Whispering truths when your heart deceives you.

All the while, using your life, your gifts and flaws, to win others to Him.

There is no greater purpose.

I Love You!

“Explorer, Warrior, Son”

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“Don’t climb on that, don’t break anything, don’t be so aggressive, don’t be so noisy, don’t be so messy, don’t take such crazy risks. But God’s design-which He placed in boys as the picture of Himself- is a resounding yes. Be fierce, be wild, be passionate.” ~John Eldridge

Do the words in the quote sound familiar? I feel like I’m saying them all the time. “Don’t do this, don’t do that.” When really, the last thing in the world that I want is for my son to be anything less than he was created to be. The first word that comes to mind when I think of my boys is, adventure. They thrive on it. They have to have it.

Please join me at Lil Light O’ Mine as I share my experience, hopes and prayers for my boys.

 

Finding God on the Farm

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I haven’t written about Elliot in a while and I feel like it’s time.

I think of her multiple times throughout the day. I look at the sky, searching for the crosses that she always saw as “a sign from God.” The other day I was studying the clouds when I thought, “God, why won’t you give me just one Elliot sky cross?” Soon after, it’s as if my eyes were open to everything in front of me and I saw the majesty of His handiwork.
It occurred to me that I was expecting far too little from a God who is capable of so much more. Look at this sky and the earth below it! This is the artist who I so often times try to fit into the box of emotional perception when clearly He cannot be contained.

Why do I ask for an open door when He can knock down a wall? Why do I expect a morsel when I’m a guest at the feast? Why do I contemplate this earth when He has promised me Heaven?

Chris and I took the boys to a farm last week and I figured I should take my camera as I haven’t been to a farm since I was about 7. I thought maybe I could get some cool captures. What I found was tangible evidence that God knows my name, He cares about me, and He is able to do exceedingly and abundantly above all I could ever ask or think.

He didn’t have to use words. He used the beautiful simplicity of nature and the magnificent designs of His hands. He revealed more to me that day, on a farm, than He has in years. Or maybe I was just more open to it than I have been in years? Though there are many examples, I chose a few to share with you.

Worry, stress, anxiety…have always been a struggle for me. Truly, I think I was stressed out upon my delivery and ever since.

I felt silly when looking at this cow. Does she look worried?

No. She is completely relaxed and basking in the comfort of her Creator’s faithfulness. She doesn’t worry about tomorrow. She rolls in the grass completely oblivious to the storm clouds forming overhead. Because, what purpose is there in worry?

So then how much less do I have to worry? If a cow, one of the least intelligent animals on earth, can lie down in the field, completely exposed to all of the elements, surely I can trust my Heavenly Father.

When I am stirring through the details of this life, it’s as if He says, “Look at this chicken, how unique and beautiful her colors and feather pattern.

Do I not put so much more into the life of my children…if they let me? Upon comparison, the two don’t even come close.

Look at how the little ones run and chase and play, feeling the ground beneath their feet and the sky above their head. Trusting that the sky will not fall and the earth will not give way.

Have I not told you, be more like this…childlike. Relish the moments of pure unadulterated bliss.

How can I make it any more clear? I have painted the sky, using vibrant colors you have never seen, I have placed my creation before you to enjoy. What more do You need? How much is enough?”

While reading the latest entry on Elliot’s Caring Bridge site, one of the main excerpts her father wrote that stood out to me was, “I often asked myself, “What did I expect God to do?” “What did I expect the doctors to be able to do?” “What did I expect us to do as we dealt with a monster we could not see (except on a scan, and even then only if it were big enough to ‘show up’).”
So often I get caught up in my unrealistic expectations. “God, I know you have formed everything from nothing and yet my worldly expectations have not been met to my liking.” (That’s rather embarrassing to write out for you to read.)

There are monster’s all around. They can be as big or as small as we allow them to be. We can be shaken and paralyzed by their threat or we can open our hands to the heavens saying, “Here. I don’t want this. I can’t handle it anyway. Here. God, I’m going to rest a while in Your presence with the utmost confidence that, (as Elliot would say), You’ve got this.”

Elliot wrote in an email to her dad last fall, “…the C-word for me is not cancer, it’s Christ.”

She understood the faithfulness of an unexplainable God. She embraced the mystery of heaven. She loved as if nothing else mattered. It doesn’t, does it? When it all comes down to recognizing what truly matters, it’s how we love.

One day I will write a letter to her children and tell them of the incredible faith and perseverance that their mother so gracefully displayed. I will tell them of her love and commitment…of her loyalty…the way she loved. I will tell them what an extraordinary woman she is and that because of her, there will be more people in heaven. I will tell them that I am no longer afraid of death…because of the way she courageously met it after living a life of faithfulness.

“Elliot is more alive today than she ever was living in Vestavia Hills, Alabama.” I agree with you, Ed. And her legacy will live on long after we are gone.

You’re not the boss of Me

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This was my less than loving response when my incredibly attractive husband walked downstairs and began our first verbal exchange of the day.

It was a Friday and it went something like this…

Him: “Honey, we need to run a few errands and get some things done around the house.”

Me: “I know, but NOT today! It’s my ‘pajama pants wearin’, don’t tell me what to do, day!’ I exclaimed, while shoving another sea salt & turbinado sugar dark chocolate almond in my mouth and chasing it with Peet’s coffee. (Perfect combination if you ask me.)

Him: “Ooooooo-kay.”

Me: “You KNOW this! Friday is MY day to do what I want! And I don’t want to run errands or wash dishes, do laundry or anything else that requires motivation on my day to do what I want! I will do it tomorrow or Sunday, but NOT TODAY.”

Side Note: My man is Sicilian. He is intense and passionate. (Two of the many things that make him irresistible to this southern gal.) Nothing gets his heart racing (in a good or bad way) like I do. I read his cues well at this point and what his deep caramel colored eyes were telling me was that he was maintaining the utmost control by not saying anything. Now, he may have been biting the sides of his cheeks ’til they bled, but I was really proud of him for not engaging my teenage like tantrum.

Him: “Would you mind peeling yourself off the sofa long enough to dress our son so that I can take him to run errands with me?”

I was up grabbing clothes, socks and shoes before he had finished his sentence! (The house all to myself?! You don’t have to ask me twice!)

I don’t know if he passed on telling me that I was acting like a brat because it just wasn’t worth it or because he knows I have enough self awareness by now to realize when my behavior is less than appropriate. I like to believe he was thinking the latter of the two. Either way, he offered to remove distractions, giving me a few cherished moments of “me” time.

I’m a writer. When I’m not able to express myself through written word I feel unsettled with each day that passes. By the time a week has rolled around, I’m ready to implode. I covet the moments when my mind can spill out onto these pages with uninterrupted thought. In fact, there is absolutely no noise other than the tapping of the keys as I write and the intermittent crunching of almonds. Ahhhhhh, serenity now.

So, here’s the deal. I’m keeping my “Don’t ask me to do anything day.” I highly recommend that you do the same. Pick a day that works for you. And by day I mean, several hours, not 24. Oh, and leave out the childish fit, it’s not pretty. Trust me!