Snakes, snails and puppy dog’s tails

Four years ago, today, our youngest son was born.

The pregnancy started with tears and confusion, wondering how I could possibly be in that small percentage of women who actually get pregnant while on birth control. After all, less than a year before, God had blessed us with a beautiful son.

I wanted this baby. I just wasn’t sure about God’s timing. What would it mean for the baby that I was on birth control for the first 2-3 months after conception?

Lord, how am I going to do this?” was my first thought.

The very next thought, “I feel like I just got my body back! I don’t want to get fat again!

It never fails, I turn into the rebellious teen, throwing a tantrum. Because after all, it’s all about me. Isn’t it?

Here’s the deal. I am selfish.

When left to my own devices, I am self absorbed, egotistical, self-centered, opportunistic, self-serving, inconsiderate….and the list doesn’t stop there! It could go on and on and on.

However, all of that can change, IF, before my feet hit the floor in the morning, I will say these seven words “God, I invite you into my day.

You may be thinking, “One doesn’t invite God into their day. He is already there.” Well friend, not for me. I mean, yes, of course He’s there. But if I am not intentional about requesting His input in even the smallest of daily details, I won’t notice His presence and I’ll screw it all up.

His ways are not my ways. The process He uses to bring things to fruition is far beyond anything that I am capable of doing.

Just when I thought I had been broken and repaired more times than necessary, the One creating the masterpiece, gently led me into another season of silence. 

This pregnancy would bring with it more challenges than I, as an individual and Chris and I, as a couple have ever had to face. I had several health issues surface that led to surgery, preterm labor, bed rest and the high risk wing of the hospital. We became part of the unemployed and uninsured when the economy tanked. Our daughter and oldest son became seriously ill (at different times) and were hospitalized during the span of about 6 months. 

Where was God?

He was there.

In the midst of all the uncertainties, He was there, He had a plan and He was not surprised by any of the outcomes.

At times, in His silence, His presence is unmistakable. 
 
Our adored baby boy arrived almost 4 weeks early, weighing in at a whopping 7 lbs 15 oz. He was the biggest preemie in the NICU

I now have this beautiful scar on my belly. A constant reminder that God’s plan is perfect. If it had been left up to me, nothing would have happened the way it did and I would have forfeited the blessings.

It would take thousands of words to adequately explain what I have learned, the ways I have grown, the changes in perspective and priorities, the multitude of blessings and the beauty of the everyday, that have come with my youngest son’s birth.

I cannot imagine my life without this remarkable child.

It’s easy to say now that;
I wish I had enjoyed each moment and not worried so much. 
I wish I had trusted the maker of the universe.
I wish I had listened more to the Father’s assurance and inquired less about “why?”
I wish I had been a much better example of “faith in action” to others.
However, I am so, so grateful for others who were the hands of feet of Christ for our family.

My baby boy is 4 years old today. It goes by fast. Much like blinking, really. Old people used to say things like that when I was quite a bit younger. I thought they were silly. Now I see the wisdom in their words, while realizing that they weren’t so old after all.

Happy Birthday to my Precious One, whom I love and am so incredibly proud of. He is the perfect example of an undeserved gift. The kind that only God, in His amazing grace and mercy, can give. I am so grateful. And though completely undeserving, we are beyond blessed.

Cinda-who? A different kind of Princess.

Ask any child who Cinderella is and they will most assuredly know.

When asking my 3 yr. old son if he knew who Cinderella was, he said, “Ewwwww. I don’t like Cinderella.” I would say that’s right on track with where he needs to be. Like her or not, he knows who she is.

The other day on my drive home, the song “Cinderella” by Steven Curtis Chapman came on. I have heard this song many times with goosebumps covering my arms, while envisioning a little girl standing on her daddy’s feet as he dances her around.

This time was different. The tears began streaming down my face. I literally said out loud, “What is wrong with me?! This is ridiculous! Dry it up!”

I have been thinking about it ever since. Singing the lyrics over and over in my mind. “I will dance with Cinderella, while she is here in my arms, ‘Cause I know something the prince never knew…” Each time, I feel the lump well up in my throat.

When I finally took the time to sit down and start writing, clarity was found.

How many of us aspired to be a princess? Not just any princess. THE Princess. Cinderella. Nothing sounded better than being rescued from a life of chores and mean sisters. Throw in a personal fairy godmother, a makeover, a prince, a happily ever after and most of all, being able to say, “Shove it!” to the wicked stepmother and we have ourselves a fairytale.

And then something went wrong.

It wasn’t that we had brown hair instead of blond or that we didn’t have a stepmother or stepsisters to fit the story. It was that some of us took a different path. We thought that after enjoying adventure and having more “fun” we could come back and cross the finish line of life, as a Cinderella.

I haven’t read the story of Cinderella in quite some time, but from all the times I have read it in the past, I don’t recall the part where she cusses out the bartender when he yells “last call.” Or cuts marks on her body as a painful reminder that she’s real. Or where she sticks her fingers down her throat until she pukes everything that she had just binged so that she can eat more and keep stuffing those feelings down while maintaining the illusion of control. I don’t remember where she gives herself away to those who’s name she can’t even remember? Or where she stands before the full length mirror, a skin cloaked skeleton, scrutinizing every inch of her body.

Those pages must have been missing from the book.

For many of us, they are the most prevalent. Those descriptions mark a part in our story where everything changed. Shame became a constant companion. The reflection in the mirror was unrecognizable.

The realization came that there would be no horse-drawn carriage to take us to the ball. There was no army frantically searching the land to find the foot that fit the glass slipper (our foot), while the prince pines away back at the castle awaiting the return of his true love.

Who’s ever heard of glass shoes anyway?!

None of us dreamed of being addicts or alcoholics, prostitutes or strippers, a teenage mother or a 20-something divorcee.

We all had similar dreams. So what happened?

Well, when I was 12…
When he…
When she…
We all have our _____________ to fill.
Our story to tell.

It doesn’t matter the details of destruction. All that matters is from today… from this moment… how the story ends.

May I paint a mental picture for you, Beautiful One?
We aren’t waiting for the prince.
There is no clock to strike midnight and strip us of our dreams.

The King Himself prepares a place for us. The Creator of the heavens, waits for us. He beckons us. He eagerly awaits eternity with us. I don’t know how your story reads up to now, but I know how it can end.

You are a Precious Treasure, Favored, Adored by the Creator of heaven and earth.
Don’t give up, Darling.
Keep going.
It is in those times of weariness that we must listen for His whisper and embrace the anticipation of one day being His bride.

There is no better “ever after.”

*Photos taken from google

I have a confession to make

I am a believer and follower of Christ.
I have never exercised the discipline of giving up an indulgence in 
recognition of the days leading up to my Saviors last days on earth (Lent).
When praying about my character defects and having the willingness to relinquish them, 
the following came to me rather quickly.
1. I indulge myself in the approval of others. 
2. I don’t pray very well. and 
3. I want to see beauty in my physical imperfections, 
accepting that there is no such thing as perfection on this earth.
So, here it is. 
My simple prayer asking my Savior to strip me of ego 
as I meet Him in the stillness that only He can provide.
My youngest at 2 years old
Father, please teach me how to pray.
Please forgive me when I insult the work of Your hands.
Please forgive my foolish pride that longs for the approval of others.
That which does not satisfy and is quickly fleeting.
May all that I am and all that I know come from You, my Creator.I want to see the masterpiece.
Please show me, in a tangible way, what I am to You.

May I rest in Your arms, like a child with his mother, safe, peaceful and at one.
May I trust that what You say in Your word is true
and Father, when I doubt,
please quickly redirect my thinking.

I am but a weak and feeble version of Your splendor.
Help me remember that I am a child of the King

and one day I will shed this earthly suit.
That which will replace it is something that my mind cannot comprehend,
but I know that it will be my first encounter with perfection.Lord, while on this earth,

please use me up for Your glory
and may all of the credit be Yours as an example of
Your unwavering faithfulness, mercy and love.”
In Your name I pray…
Amen

What If…this could change your life?

I hear this phrase, sometimes several times a day, usually followed by something catastrophic. I can’t help but wonder how these two little words got such a bad rap?

What if” we shifted our thinking and instead of harping on the negative aspect of “What if?” We dwell in the positive? Instead of this phrase being said in the context of what we might lose, why not use it in the context of what we could gain?

What If…
I stopped focusing on changing the world and instead opened my eyes to the needs right in front of me?

What If…
I stopped complaining long enough to recognize all of the blessings around me. Especially the ones that don’t come neatly wrapped with a beautiful bow?

What If…
I started praying for the person who evokes anger at the mere mention of their name?

What If…
I started looking at the parts of my body I have always unjustly scrutinized and began appreciating their function everyday.

What If…
Instead of marinating in negative self talk (that no one hears but me), I meditated on 4 words, “I Am God’s Masterpiece.”

What If…
I started taking responsibility for how I deliver my words and letting go of how it is received?

What If…
I looked in the mirror every day, completely naked and said (out loud) “I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation!” Psalm 139

What If…
I stopped asking “why” (things are the way they are) and instead asked “how” (am I going to make a positive impact with what I’ve been given?)

What If…
I stopped calling my gossip circle a “prayer group”?

What If…
I asked God what He thinks of me and embraced it, instead of craving the approval of strangers?

What If…
Instead of cluttering our house with more “stuff” we sponsored a family less fortunate than we?

What If…
I didn’t worry?

What If…
I trusted God as much as I say I do?

What If…
I stopped criticizing the people and things that I don’t understand?

What If…
I was fully present in the moment?

What If…
I believed that all scripture was pertinent to my life and stopped focusing only on the verses that made me feel good and promised a happy ending?

What If…
I thought the best before believing the worst?

What If…
I embraced God’s plan for my life instead of blazing my own trail?

What If…
I looked forward to heaven instead of investing so much time and energy into the temporary pleasures of this world?

Are you feelin’ me on this? ‘Cause I could go on and on.

It’s all about transforming the mind. Before we take one step, it starts between our ears. Yes?

Are you a “What If-er”? What’s your biggest “What if” that’s holding you back?

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Hurry up and Wait…

As I sit in this waiting room of only women, In a sea of blue cotton robes, with the “opening in the front” (of course), I cannot help but look around, observe and judge.

Yes, I said it, JUDGE.

“But I didn’t think Christians were supposed to do that?” you say.

When one becomes a follower of Christ, one does not cease being human.

With each name called that isn’t mine I want to charge up to the front desk and say, “I can’t wait any longer! I have things to do today! (Like sitting around in my pajamas. It’s my day off! My ‘Nobody tell me what to do’ day.)”

Of course I don’t do that, do I?

Nope! This appointment has been on the calendar for 6 months. I’m not just going to walk out now! No way. I’ll show them and stay another hour if I have too!

Wait…what?

My inner monologue is suddenly interrupted by the familiar sound of a chip bag opening. “Oh, I’m so hungry. Why didn’t I bring a snack?!” “Duh, because they are going to weigh me!” (Clearly still deceived by the notion that I will weigh less having not eaten today. I don’t mean a few ounces less, I mean 10 lbs.)

So…here I am…waiting. As I have been for the last 82 minutes.

I can’t tell if the woman beside me has an issue with her jaw or is popping gum. It’s really loud. Really. Loud.

Oh good, now she’s taking a call on her cell. The popping is replaced by her inquiries about dry cleaning and whether or not her dog has been walked and if it had pooped or peed on the walk because, that’s important.  (What part of the sign “NO CELLPHONES” does she not understand?!)

The nurse emerges and calls her back. “Thank the Lord in heaven!” (is my extremely loud thought.)

As I continue an inner monologue about how I would never be as obnoxious as this woman, a word in a conversation to my right catches my attention.

Metastasized.

That’s the word. The one word that snapped me out of my self righteous, internal ranting.

There were 5 ladies, strangers from what I could tell, sharing their stories. For the young woman who had just been diagnosed, she was asking the other woman who had been cancer free since 2009, what to expect.

“What kind of pajamas do they allow in the hospital?”
“Will I lose my hair?”
“How long does chemo take?”
“Does everyone throw up after?”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“What stage was yours?”
“Did you have radiation?”
“Do you drink regular milk or organic?”

The older woman was compassionate in her answers.

I don’t have cancer.

I don’t know the answer to any of her questions. I am here, as I will be every 6 months for the rest of my life because I am “high risk.” Female cancer dominates both sides of my family. I am no stranger to the word metastasized, as that word alone awakens many feelings that have been silent until several months ago when it became a reality again with the news of my beautiful friend, now fighting for her life against a relentless form of ovarian cancer.

I actually made it a priority to schedule my annual appointment with my gyno because of her. He insisted that I have the genetic testing done to see if I carried the cancer gene. He called with the results. All tests were negative. I do not carry the gene.

So why am I sitting here. Why will I spend half of my day off, sitting here with strangers, when I could be with my boys?

Fear?

Prevention?

Is there really a difference between the two?

Regardless, here I am. Waiting…

I’m guessing that the young girl asking all the questions is in the fear stage. I can’t say that for sure and now I’m judging again. (Why am I acting so priggish?!) If anything I should be falling down before the Father in praise several times a day that I emerged from the darkness in which I was living, relatively unscathed.

However, here I sit. Annoyed by the smallest of things. Remember my motto…”Progress not Perfection.” Some days (like today), progress is even a stretch.

The lady beside me takes out her emory board to file her nails. (Insert inner scream here). Noooooooooooo! Forget the sound! What makes her think I want to breathe in her fingernail dust? And there’s no escaping it! Its flying everywhere.

The door opens, here comes the nurse, she’s calling my name.

Clarification: There are few things in this life that I can say with all of the passion I can muster that I detest. Cancer is one of those things. It is a devil of sorts. Often times it is silent in its deadly pursuit until its victim is left ravaged and face to face with death. I am in no way trying to make light of this disease in this post. I am simply giving you, the reader, a glimpse in to my perception, warped as it may be at times. Usually, for me, this all points back to fear. Thankfully I have been given the tools to face it and move on. I feel beyond blessed to only be going in for rechecks. I am on the maintenance plan while many are fighting for their life.

GUEST POST: "DJ & the Trees. A Parable"

I am thrilled to have a guest post by the beautiful and talented Heather Palacios. I am learning so much from her. Wife to Raul Palacious, a pastor on staff where they attend at Church by the Glades. Not only is she a bright light in this dark world, she is the real deal! I love this post that she had previously written on her own blog, because it reminds me that I am not the one in charge and that God is bigger than anything I am going through.
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There was my boy, DJ, looking up to me on a balcony. 
What I didn’t realize when I took this picture was I also captured the towering palm tree beside him. 
 Little DJ, big tree. 
In a way, that is what we feel like with problems in our lives. 
We feel so small with something we can’t compete against in strength, power and magnitude. DJ couldn’t take this tree any more than I’ve been able to take some of the problems in my life. You too? 
And this is precisely (& simply) why we need God. 
God is bigger than me…& the tree. 
God is bigger than you…& your problem. 
And what we can’t muster up in strength, power & magnitude, He can. 
I pray you know this God, today. So that He can be in your life and over your trees.

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Check out more of Heather’s wisdom, wit and words in writing by visiting her website. Follow her on Twitter and Facebook. You will be a better human being just by knowing her.

Egomaniac with an Inferiority Complex

Ever feel like you’re walking around inside out? Like people can see, not who, but what you are?

Or that you have a neon word glowing above your head?

I do.

For me, it could be any number of things over the years… alcoholic, people pleaser, bulimic, liar, gossiper, faker, cheater, doubter, wounded, hypocrite, quitter…the list is lengthy and it only gets worse.

What’s your word?

Did you immediately think of something negative?

Why do I turn into a “Nancy negative” (no offense Nancy) when it comes to self-awareness checks?

Is it because I’m humble? Hardly!

It’s because my ego gets the better of me and I begin comparing my insides to your outsides. I become fixated on the past, instead of focused on the future, while living in the present.

Humor me for a minute and let’s go another route.

What if, when I went out into the world, I walked around with a different list of words adorning my head? Words like…Believer, Redeemed, Recovered, Loved, Forgiven, Cherished, Treasured, Saved, Blessed, Beautiful, Capable, Wanted, Free, Worthy, Accepted…as I wrote these words, I read them out loud. It is amazing the tone, the energy, the transformation of thought from one paragraph to another simply by changing a few words.

Ladies, we are the worst about this. Be careful what you are speaking into the hearts and minds of your daughters, friends and more importantly, yourself.

May I encourage you to try a little experiment with me? Come on! It will be so fun!

Take a dry erase marker (or lippy, whatever works), stand in front of the mirror where you get ready every morning, and in the space (on the mirror) above your head, choose one word of affirmation.

Write the word on your mirror so that when you look at your reflection you will see truth.

I call it, “Affirmation in Action.”

My word right now is “Redeemed.”

I begin my day with that word in my heart and on my mind. I don’t give the lies a chance to one up me.

There is power in our words. Even those never spoken, but that we allow to take up residence between our ears.

If you’re walking around all day with a head full of negative self-talk, stop it.
No really…STOP! You are going against your purpose, everything that you were designed to be. You are deeming yourself spiritually useless.

Harsh? Yes.

I speak from a position of repeat offender when it comes to bashing myself. What I am encouraging you to do, I am doing myself. Work in progress, remember. I don’t have all the answers, I am just very persistent.

It begins from within.

What’s inside you can either tear down and infect those around you with the poison of darkness. Or it can shine, igniting the light in others that is within us all. For some of us only a spark remains, while for others a fire rages.

Here is my promise to you…for the next 7 days, I am going to pray for you. I would LOVE it if you would tell me your word in the comment section below. However, even if you don’t, God knows your word and more importantly, He knows your name.

The future is very bright!

Now…

What’s your word?