Tag Archives: Experience

Head full of Hope: A Story in Pictures

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This is a story about my Bella. She is 14 and always looking for ways to make a difference. With the limited resources that she has, she must get creative when supporting others. She knew that she had one thing to give that could potentially impact someone her own age.

Let’s see if a picture really is worth a thousand words…

In the chair at Van Michael Salon in Buckhead with Kelly

Kelly making the first cuts.

The first pieces are in her hand

Second section of cutting

12 inches of beautiful hair

Styling the new do

Remnants of what's left and unusable

Finished Product

She is smiling for several reasons. One being that she feels like she weighs 10 lbs. lighter.

A GREAT BIG THANK YOU to Kelly at Van Michael Salon in Buckhead. She took care of everything. They are a participating salon in Locks of Love.

Strike that from the Record

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I must confess, I say things at times that I immediately want to retract as they are streaming from my mouth.

The world seems to move in slow motion and it’s as if I can see the words leaving my lips and slapping the recipient in the face.

“Nooooooooooooooo!”

Too late! It’s already out there. Whether I meant to say it or not, despite the wrongdoings that sparked my fiery tongue, words have landed and made an impression. Whether they take root or wither is accordingly to how the person process’. I am not responsible for the way my words are received. I am responsible for the delivery. Yikes!

Do you have any experience with this? I have been thinking about it quite a bit recently as it was brought to my attention that I had said something in a way that it was never intended. I apologized swiftly, analyzed it for several days, made a plan to keep it from happening again and moved on.

It wasn’t too long after that I found myself listening to a juicy bit of gossip. Before I even knew what was happening, I was participating. We women, especially, have to resist the temptation to disguise gossip as “Prayer requests” or concern in the form of, “Bless ‘er heart! Did you hear what happened to…”

What about phrases we say daily? Those weighty statements we don’t even consider? I knew you would want a few examples, so here they are…

“Are you really going to wear that?!”
“You’re ridiculous!”
“What’s you’re problem?!”
“Do your ears work?!”
“You’re crazy!”
“You’re driving me nuts!”
“That is the dumbest idea! It will never work!”
“You are always late.”
“That’s just the way you are. I’ve learned to work with it.”
“Have you ever come up with an original idea or do you always have to take credit for those you steal from others?”
“You don’t have a creative bone in your body!”
“You’re useless!”

Several of these may seem extreme while others are written off as sarcasm. What if we took 2 seconds to think about what we were going to say before we interjected it into someone’s day?

Proverbs 18:21 says, “Words kill, words give life; they’re either poison or fruit—you choose.” It’s a choice, is it not? Much like everything else that has a positive and negative side. Even if you’re not a bible-thumper, you can recognize truth when you see it.

Let’s have some fun! I have copied the negative statements above and replaced the words that wound.
“Are you really going to wear that?!” “You looked so great in that black shirt you wore the other day! Why don’t you throw on some jeans and wedges with that top?”
“You’re ridiculous!” “You are being so silly!”
“What’s you’re problem?!” “Is everything okay? Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Do your ears work?!” “Did you hear me?”
“You’re crazy!” “You’re one of a kind!”
“You’re driving me nuts!” “I need some quiet time for a few minutes.”
“That is the dumbest idea! It will never work!” “I see where you’re coming from. Maybe we can look at it another way as well? Have you thought about this?”
“You are always late.” “It’s tough getting to these early morning meetings, isn’t it? Maybe it would help to get up a few minutes earlier?”
“That’s just the way you are. I’ve learned to work with it.” “What do you think about this approach? Sometimes it’s beneficial to try something new.”
“Have you ever come up with an original idea or do you always have to take credit for those you steal from others?” “That is another great idea! How in the world did you come up with that?! Wow!”
“You don’t have a creative bone in your body!” “You are so great at organization. Maybe you could share some of your secrets for keeping all of those files straight.”
“You’re useless!” “Do you feel like your talents are being utilized in this current role? I want you to be in a position to thrive.”
(If you came up with better responses, stop laughing at mine and share yours in the comments section.)

So, here is my challenge to you and to me. For the next 7 days, before uttering a word to anyone, take 2 seconds to ask yourself, “Is it Kind?” “Is it True?” “Is it Helpful?” If the answer is not a resounding “YES!” to all of these, don’t say it.

Do you think you can do it? I hope I can!

(Images courtesy of google)

God doesn’t need another Angel

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This is going to tick some of you off. That’s okay. Remember this is only my opinion. Hopefully it will get all of us thinking about how we view God and others, especially during difficulty.

Unfortunately, over the past two years I have had several friends go through the agonizing experience of losing a child. Most recently, my beautiful friend Katie. I was so blessed to meet the miracle that was Hallie Lynn Green. I am eternally grateful to Chris and Katie for allowing me into that precious time.

It is every mother’s nightmare. Which is why neurotic mothers, like myself, would get up multiple times once the baby was sleeping through the night and check to make sure he was breathing. Or the first night the baby sleeps waking up with the sun coming through the window and panicking, wondering if when I looked in the crib my child would be lifeless.

Many fear this, but no one actually thinks this will happen to them.

No one is capable of preparing for a loss this deep. No one.

Maybe you have lost a child or know someone who has. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you never will.

However, if you do, please, I am begging you, do not respond to their news by telling them that “God obviously needed another angel.”

Honestly, it’s one of the ridiculous things that Christians say when we are at a loss for words. Friends, it’s okay to be at a loss for words and avoid saying something as asinine as God needing to take someone’s child to add to His choir.

If God needed another angel, why not just create one? The God I know would not allow one of us to experience such intense sadness for the sake of adding to the heavenly host.

I have three babies in heaven. That’s a post for another time, but I can tell you that anytime someone said to me, “Aw, God needed a sweet little angel.” I wanted to punch them in the face.

I cannot imagine serving, loving and worshiping a God that manages the heavens and eternity that way. Can you?

I know that some of you reading this have said these very words to avoid the uncomfortable silence that looms over a conversation this weighty. I’m not calling you an idiot, I’m just asking that you please, be comfortable in the silence. Or, if you are unable to be comfortable, be uncomfortable for those few moments, usually brief, when you express your condolences.

The thing that meant the most to me after losing a baby early in pregnancy, was coming home to find a small vase of beautiful white roses on the doorstep. The card said, “Our thoughts and prayers are with you.”

That spoke volumes.

Pardon me while I step down off my soapbox. May you never experience the loss of a child, whether while in the womb or after birth. The pain and void that it leaves is indescribable.

I beg you, if someone close to you does lose a child, or someone you are merely acquaintances with or don’t even know, please don’t tell them that “God needed another angel, so He chose their baby to go back to Heaven.”

Do you have experience walking through this with a friend? Have you lost a child? What is your best advice for someone wanting to provide comfort after something so devastating?

When ya gotta go, ya gotta go…Officer

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I was trying to explain this as he stopped behind my car, where I had pulled over to let my 3 year old…how shall I say…relieve himself.

(Go ahead, judge me. I deserve it.)

I was sure it would help my case that the police officer was a male, as he could empathize with my little boy’s full bladder and the fact that it’s actually faster to pull over and let him drop trou on the side of the road. As he walked over, I quickly began justifying my actions in the most manipulative…I mean, logical and honest of ways.

“Well Officer, he hasn’t been potty trained for that long and when he says he has to go, you can guarantee, in less than 5 min., he’s gonna go. And, well, I told him to go before we left the house just down the road and he said he didn’t have to. I won’t make that mistake again! Next time I will MAKE him go before we leave! AND he doesn’t have his pants around his ankles…they are just below his cute little 3-year-old buns. I am blocking him as best I can! I’m sorry! I know I should have gone into the store and used the facilities, but you see, I am somewhat of a germaphobe and public restrooms make my skin crawl. And port-o-pots, well, I feel like sanitizing my hands after just looking at one!”

I paused long enough to breathe and then apologized profusely. Some call it groveling. I call it, not going to jail for indecent exposure and urinating on public property/grass (even if it was done by a 3-year-old)!

“I won’t do it again (knowing that I would, I would just pick a less traveled patch of grass next time), Sir! I’m so, so sorry! I have always been one to ask forgiveness rather than permission. I’ve learned my lesson!”

I noticed a grin start to spread across his face.

Cue inner monologue: “Oh no! He’s going to make an example out of me, I just know it! When the police station or DFCS calls Chris to come and pick up our child, while I’m sitting in a jail cell with a prostitute and teenager who was arrested the night before for public intoxication, well, I just don’t know how I will explain this to him?! There’s always a positive side. I’m wearing my “Be Bold” bracelet from church, maybe I can share with the gals in my cell! Yeah! It all makes sense now!”

About 5.3 seconds had passed without a word.

I looked down to see my son with his jeans now around his ankles. Thankfully his lightning McQueen underpants were pulled up! He was grinning from ear to ear up at the policeman.

Just then, my sweet boy exclaimed with utter delight, “YOU’RE A COMMUNITY HELPER!!!”

“That’s right, son. I sure am.” said the officer proudly.

He then looks at me and says, “Ma’am, that was quite an explanation you gave. You an attorney?”

“No, Sir.,” I replied.
“I’m a writer who loves photography and my day job is, Preschool Director… at my church.” (Ughhhhh, please don’t ask which church!)

By this time I was sure that my entire face was red and my chest was splotchy (this is what happens when I am humiliated).

He chuckled, making me feel even more inadequate as a mother and someone who cares for others children.

I couldn’t see his expression through the dark lenses of his glasses. “I have a grandson about your boy’s age. He loves to pee in the yard. I hated to stop your speech, seein’ as you were on such a role. Though it wasn’t necessary.”, he said.

“Really?! You have no idea…”

He interrupted, “I admire you for allowing your son to be a boy. Maybe next time you could avoid the grass right off a major road. Some people tend to frown on things like this.”

“Um, yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir! Thank you! I’m sure your grandson is a fine boy!” (Did I really just call his grandson a fine boy?! Shut up, Joy!!!)

“Have a nice day, young lady.”

“You too!” I said with enthusiasm while waving vigorously as he drove away. My child still standing in his underwear with his pants around his ankles said, “Mom, can we go now?!”

“Yes, Darling. Thank the Lord, we can!”

There are three takeaways from this story…

#1 ~ Talk less.

#2 ~ Never judge a mother letting her child go number one on the side of the road. Find out the circumstances. Then you can judge.

#3 ~ Don’t talk about others in a negative light, one day you may find yourself doing the exact same thing that made you think them absurd.

photo credit

Why I lie to my kids

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I can just hear the inner monologue now…WHAT?! She lies to her kids?! What kind of parent does that?!

Um, just about every parent I know or have known.

Just the other morning, I dropped my son off in his class at church and he turned and said, “When will you be back?” “In just a few minutes” I said. (LIE!)

As his big brown eyes looked up at me, his little voice said, “What time is it now?”

“Almost 9 o’clock.” I responded.

“And what time will you be back?” he asked.

(By this time the line to check in was growing and our conversation had intrigued several who were waiting.)

“A little after 10:00 Darling. It won’t be long.” I said.

“That’s more than a few minutes!” he exclaimed.

Not knowing what else to say, or how to escape the trap in which I had just been caught, I pulled him to the side and knelt down so that we were eye level.

As my 5 yr. old pulled on my arm saying, “Let’s GO mommy! I wanna go to my class!” I knew I couldn’t miss this opportunity to keep it real with my youngest.

“You’re right, son.” I said.
“It’s actually going to be about 75 minutes.”

“Oh. Okay.” he said. And went running back into his classroom.

I was still kneeling on the floor when I looked up to see pity in the parental gazes coming from my onlookers. “It’s not as if YOU are always honest with YOUR children?!” I thought to myself in a very loud thinking voice. You know the one.

So, I head upstairs with my 5 yr old to drop him off at his class, still a little bewildered by the fact that my 3 yr old just called me out.

As I was waiting in line, a first time visitor was being escorted to the front so that she was able to drop off her child and tell them good-bye.

He runs into the classroom and I hear her say, “BY HONEY! Mommy will be back in just one minute!” (LIE!) I was thinking to myself, that kid will be lying on a shrink’s sofa one day explaining how it all started when his mother said she would be back in one minute and did not return for over an hour.

Photo Credit Freelance Folder
A little dramatic, I know! But I wanted to make her just as bad as I was. I wanted her to be a liar too!

Here’s the deal…this may seem like such a small thing to you. And for those of you still reading, hopefully this will make some sense.

It is a meaningless comment/exaggeration of the truth. UNTIL your 3 yr old calls you out on it!

It started a process of personal inventory. Which if you have ever done this, it is no small feat.

Instead of pointing at the lady in front of me and taking her inventory, which I knew nothing about, mind you, I was forced to look at myself.

What other things do I lie about?

Some of you will not have to be so introspective. For me, my sanity not only relies on this kind of honesty, it requires it.

Photograph : http://www.risesmart.com

I was a liar for a long time, so when I catch myself telling anything that even appears to be a lie, it scares me a little. If it looks like a lie, smells like a lie and sounds like a lie, well, it’s a lie.

Does this mean I’m going to tell my children all of the ridiculous things I did and poor decisions made while growing up. No. Does it mean that I will be one of those parents who says, “I never actually inhaled.” No. I don’t want to be that either.

SO, there is a fine line between truth and TMI.

What is it though?

No…really…I’m asking you…WHAT IS IT?!

I don’t know! I believe it depends on the person, the extent of the information and the age of the child.

Am I justifying my actions? Probably. I tend to do that when I want to feel okay about doing something that I’m not sure is okay to do.

Many studies have been done on how children develop and the way their minds work. It is said that a child 6 yrs or younger does not have the ability to reason. Hence the phrase, “7 is the Age of Reason.”

There is a great article titled “The Truth About Lying” and in it, the author says,
“From about age 4 on, children lie for many of the same reasons adults do: to avoid punishment, to gain an advantage, to protect against an unwanted consequence, and even to boost self-esteem. Youngsters, like adults, sometimes lie to demonstrate power, to maintain privacy, or to protect a friend. When a child lies, she is essentially trying to change a situation, to reconstruct things the way she wants them to be. (Hmmm, at times I still do this.) There is a developmental progression to lying.

Helping your child develop morality and responsibility for his actions over the long haul is the goal…
Model the behavior you expect to see in your child. (I thought I was doing that?!) This sounds obvious (YES, it does!), but it involves monitoring when and how you lie — not an easy task (NO, it isn’t!). If we want to foster a trusting, self-regulating child who cares about his own welfare and that of others, we have to do it the hard way: by being trusting, self-regulating, and respectful adults.” (Ouch!)

Why then, you ask, did I take the time to reason with my 3 yr old? Well, because I think he deserves to know the difference between a few minutes and 75.

All children are different. Mine was content hearing an explanation.
Do I recommend this when he is in mid tantrum. Nooooooooooooooooooooo. But when he is calmly asking for an explanation, I’m going to give him one, whether an “expert” tells me he understands or not.

So, I leave you with no answers today. Only questions.

What are the lies you’re telling your kids and where’s the line?

Just to make you feel better and not leave you with a bitter taste in your mouth and that befuddled look on your face. To get us started, here are a few of the lies that I can remember telling my kids in the last week (give or take a few days). 

What I said:
Play land is closed today (at McDonald’s)
What I meant:
There is no way you are going to play in there! Ew. I’m sure they don’t crawl through all of those tunnels and clean it once a week. I wouldn’t.

What I said:
Mommy is going to take a break and have some quiet time for a few minutes.
What I meant:
Mommy is going to go upstairs, close the door, take some deep breaths while listening to songs on Pandora, none of which will have rhymes about counting or the alphabet.

What I said:
We will go outside in 10 minutes.
What I meant:
When I finish what I am doing, then we will go outside. I’m not sure how long it will take.

What I said:
Mommy is going to run an errand. It will only take a minute.
What I meant:
You’re going to stay here with daddy while I get in daddy’s car (instead of the minivan), roll down the windows, open the sunroof, turn up the music and sing at the top of my lungs while driving around the neighborhood.

What I said:
No honey, this is special mommy chocolate. Boys don’t eat this kind of chocolate. It’s only for girls.
What I meant:
I don’t want to share this chocolate with you. I made a special trip to Whole Foods to buy the good stuff (translation: 70% cacao and imported) and you don’t know the difference between this and a Hershey bar. Besides, I have given up alcohol, so I should not have to share my chocolate.

What I said:
It’s bedtime!
What I meant:
It’s been a really long day and you didn’t take a nap. I know it’s an hour early, but since it’s getting dark earlier, you don’t know whether it’s bedtime or not and I want some “me time”.

Now, do you feel better about yourself? You should. I have a lot of work to do! No wonder my children have no concept of time!

Remembering vs. Acknowledging

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(This post was written on the 10th anniversary of that day in history that changed everything…)

While contemplating what my next profile pic will be for FB, this rush of self-awareness caught me a little off-guard.

“I did my part. I posted the American flag, even made it my profile picture for more than 24 hours and added some inspiring and well thought out statements about that awful day 10 years ago {now 11 years}. I cried on Sunday while watching the news channels rebroadcast that horrifying morning when minutes passed like hours. So now am I moving on? Did I remember or just acknowledge the happenings of that Tuesday morning? Did I truly honor the lives lost and impacted or did I do what I thought was “right” on a day when there were so many emotions?” I don’t know? Does it matter?

I think it does.

I’m the girl who has to constantly survey my motives in order to keep my ego in check. “Why am I doing this?” “Is it to make myself look better?” “Is it so that people will like me?” “Is it to get something that I think I am entitled too?” “Is it out of fear that I won’t go to Heaven if I don’t?” “Will this have a positive impact on anyone or am I speaking empty words followed by hollow actions?”

I would love to say that the answer to all of those questions is a resounding “NO.”
But, I would be lying.

To acknowledge something is not a bad thing…necessarily. It is recognizing that something has been or is.

Remembering, in my opinion, is reliving a moment…the way it felt and smelled and looked…it is taking time out to reflect and depending on the situation, give reverence to.

If I could give you a word picture this is what it would look like…
Acknowledge – Grey, forced, sterile.
Remember – Vivid colored streamers being waved around on those sticks (you know the ones), by people dressed in white linen with their hair flowing in the breeze, near the water, on a crystal clear day, with the sun reflecting off of the ripples.
(I didn’t give acknowledge a chance, did I? I’m just trying to give you a minuscule taste of how my mind works.)

I don’t want to just pick up where I left off on September 10th. I want to have a mental makeover. I want to carry the reverence for that day with me every day. I want the reminder that when this event occurred, I walked away thinking, “I want to do something that matters. I don’t want to just get by. I want to do something more.”

I want to remember until it hurts…until it evokes the kind of change in me that does not allow the lazy sentiment “Someone else will do it…If I don’t, someone will.” I want that someone to be me. And may all of the credit to go to my Savior, without whom, I could not draw another breath.

I would love to hear your thoughts on that day. On remembering vs. acknowledging. With all of the posts that will be going around today, what are your thoughts?
*Stock photos taken from google

What does that title mean anyway?

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I’ve contemplated starting a blog for…oh…about 3 years now. There is a book out there that describes a person’s positive progress as “sometimes quickly,” “sometimes slowly.”  I fall in the “sometimes slowly” category.

For the last several months, the “Being” that I choose to call God has been nudging me ever so gently. “Why Lord?! Nobody cares what I have to say! No one is going to read it! AND I don’t want to air my dirty laundry to the world while opening myself up for criticism! My head is a confusing place for me to be! Why would I invite anyone else in?”

And then it came to me, like fog lifting…”This isn’t about you, it’s about Me.” And by Me, I mean God. He brought me through some major life “stuff”. The kind of “stuff” that some don’t survive to tell about.

So, I said a prayer a few months ago. It went something like this…”God, I am only alive because of you. Because of your faithfulness. Because of your unrelenting love and pursuit of my heart. I don’t know why or how you could use a girl like me, but here I am. Use me up for your glory. Amen”

Ever heard the saying, “Be careful what you pray for?”

A little history… I am a wretch…left to my own devices that is. I am a self-absorbed, egotistical maniac with an inferiority complex. (That’s not original, I heard someone else say it). I want you to love me even if I don’t like you. I am self-destructive, manipulative, dishonest and beyond human aid. I was broken beyond repair.

That’s where Christ stepped in…and did what He does so well…He redeemed me.
I lived for myself for a very long time. It sucked.
 Don’t get me wrong, there were times when I thought it was great…then 10 minutes after last call, the house lights would come on in the club and everything that looked so glamorous in the glow of the dance floor, now looked dirty, tired and hollow in the fluorescents.

I would get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, like, “What now? I wonder what’s open? I don’t want to go home where the only thing waiting is silence. The quiet scares me cause it screams the truth.” And the truth it was screaming…I was a hot mess!

I figured I would give this blog thing a try. If you choose to read it and walk away with anything helpful, rest assured it isn’t me, it’s God. He gets ALL the glory. I was bound by darkness…shackled to my shame, but then one day I heard what I had been told a thousand times before…If I was the only one in the world, Christ would have suffered the unimaginable death of that day on Calvary.
And for me, friend, when those feelings of inferiority and shame creep up and try to draw me back into darkness, I think of the sacrifice that was made on my behalf. Knowing the awful things I would do, He still gave his life in place of mine. For that truth to go unrecognized is for me to say that the cross is not enough to cover my wounds. And I can say with great assurance…The Cross Is Enough!

My chains are gone, I’ve been set free. I am a student of life and want to absorb anything and everything that will help me live out my purpose (see, told you I am self-absorbed.) Oh, and the chances of a really profound statement being a Joy original…slim to slimmer. I have learned so much from others. Those who sustained me when I was thought to be less than salvageable.

I have this crazy story… about life and love, death, betrayal, heartache, second chances, redemption and so much more…and well…that’s a post for another time.

For now, I am basking in the unbelievable blessings that are my reality while gettin’ my gratitude on that God would choose to use… even a girl like me.