Mountain or Molehill?

A little more than 24 hours ago, this was my mountain.

It was overwhelming…daunting…I was exhausted by the thought of it.
I mean, I can’t even get to the washer to start a load! Ughhhhh…”I would rather donate these clothes than have to separate, wash, dry, fold and put it all away!

I can sense you judging me.
Part of what you’re thinking is accurate.
I was behaving like a spoiled brat. I mean, who looks at their dirty laundry and prefers to give it away over washing it?! (Maybe I should stop wearing my tiara randomly around the house? Nah.)

What?! You don’t wear a tiara while doing laundry, the dishes, scrubbing toilets, or anything else of importance?! I highly recommend it!

Then it happened…it happens every time I start whining about my circumstances. The girl with no shoes and a tired expression comes into my mind. She walks 6 miles a day just to get water. I imagine what her face would look like if she had a washer and dryer and if she could walk to the refrigerator and fill a cup with water that comes straight from the door. You don’t even have to open the fridge!

One may argue that this is a reaction of guilt. Maybe it’s the product of growing up in an environment where, if I didn’t finish a meal I would hear, “Children in Africa don’t have anything to eat. They would gobble that cauliflower right up and be thankful!”

However, one would be wrong. Visualizing the young girl having to walk miles to get water all while hoping she isn’t ambushed and raped along the way is a very true reality for many. I am fortunate enough to be here, in my home, in the land of plenty.

There are few things I dislike more than “housework,” none of it compares to what others endure on a daily basis for simple survival. I do enjoy vacuuming because I get to see instant progress by the tracks being made in the carpet as the vacuum removes all of the dust and dirt. However, when I think about the fact that I have an entire room dedicated to removing the stains, washing and drying my clothes… well… I am overcome with the reality that I am either spoiled beyond entitlement, immensely blessed, or a little bit of both.

Now that things were coming back into perspective and I was feeling a little more rational, I formulated a plan. Eight loads of laundry later, tiara still shining, this is the new view…

This may be a silly example to some, but for me the mess, our dirty laundry, made everything else seem bigger.

We all have our mountains. Some are daily, some weekly, others monthly. There are those that will only be part of our story once in our lifetime.

Compared to cancer, my mountain looks like a speed bump. However, for me it represents what’s going on with my insides. Does it seem a little more valid when I put it that way? When my spiritual life is in comparable condition to my laundry room before overhaul it calls for drastic measures. It is also a telltale sign that no maintenance is being done. If I would do a little bit of laundry everyday, my floor would not be covered with dirty clothes. Isn’t it the same with my spiritual life?

If you are still wondering if I am comparing my insides to my dirty laundry and the avoidance to clean it all up, the answer is a resounding, “YES!” I’m a simple gal (for today anyway), meaning I  need simple illustrations that I can wrap my brain around. Jesus is for my soul what Tide is for my clothes. Shew! I am so thankful for grace!

A man much smarter than I, by the name of Thomas Merton wrote, “Once you have grace… you are free. Without it, you cannot help doing the things you know you should not do, and that you know you don’t really want to do. But once you have grace, you are free… there is no power in existence that can force you to commit a sin–nothing that will be able to drive you to it against your own conscience. And if you merely will it, you will be free forever, because the strength will be given you, as much as you need, and as often as you ask, and as soon as you ask, and generally long before you ask for it, too.” ~The Seven Storey Mountain

Walking past my clean laundry room gives me a sense of accomplishment and pride. Is that wrong? What’s your mountain today? Is victory attainable? Are you overwhelmed?

It’s time to step off the scale

If you are a parent, especially a mother to a girl, please stop and re-evaluate the dialogue you are having with yourself, your friends, your husband, the TV, the radio and especially with her.

Stop talking about your insecurities in front of your daughter. Unknowingly we project our feelings of inadequacy onto our daughters. Don’t do it! She may not acknowledge it at the time. More than likely she will remain quiet, but when she’s alone in her room, she will look at herself in a way that she has not thought about before. She doesn’t deserve that.

We have the potential to raise beautiful, secure women. We can have a great impact that is either positive or negative. In order to model a healthy image, we must work from within and stop comparing our insides to another person’s outsides.

This is no longer a silly little obsession. It is a matter of life and death.

I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. Please believe me when I say that I am reminding myself here as well. I battled an eating disorder for 12 years. One that almost took my life. And yet I still find myself making derogatory comments about my body in front of my daughter.

I have to make a conscience effort not to speak negatively about any part of my body. I have to replace the thoughts in my head with statements such as these;
~ I am thankful for two legs that take me where I want to go
~ I am thankful for two arms that hold my children.
~ I am thankful for two eyes that see
~ I am thankful for two ears that hear
~ I am thankful for natural, God given lips, to speak the truth in love
~ I am thankful for a backside (or booh-tay as I like to call it) that makes long sits in folding chairs more tolerable
~ I am thankful for an abdomen stretched with signs from each pregnancy
~ I am thankful for breasts that are free of cancer and for a time sustained the life of each of my babies
~I am thankful for the fine lines that grace my eyes from years of smiling and laughing

When I stand before the mirror…fully exposed…completely naked…I say these positive affirmations out loud. Sound crazy? What’s crazy to me at this stage in my life, after all I have seen and walked through, is to accept even a fraction of the world’s view of me as valid or worthy of attention.

The following pictures are graphic and will be disturbing to some.
There is no time for sugar-coating and acting as if everything will be okay.
It’s an epidemic and the ultimate tragedy is when it claims another life.

Isabelle Caro found international fame after posing for an Italian anti-anorexia stream of billboard poster back in 2007, and she was known for her skeletal frame due to the disorder she’s been fighting against since she was 13. According to her acting coach, Caro was already sick after returning from a gig in Tokyo, and she passed away November 17, 2010. She was 28 years old.

You don’t have to agree with what I have written here, but please consider the way you are communicating with the girls/women in your life. There is a crucial need for those in recovery to speak up and share hope. This conversation has only begun.

Related Articles;
Mother’s plea: modelling isn’t worth life
Anorexic Model dies at 28
Ransomed
Wrestling demons
Does this make me look fat?
One Word: Enough

Five Minute Friday: Path

“As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth,
so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind.
To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again.
To make a deep mental path, we must think
over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.”
~Henry David Thoreau~

While out in the gardens this morning, we came across several beautiful paths. I wanted to share them with you. They are all different…beautifully unique…full of potential. What do you see when you look down these paths? Where do you think they go?
Where would they take you?

It’s a #FiveMinuteFriday flash mob! <—click to tweet this!

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And
then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

Single Mamas

When the thought came to me that I needed to write about this sensitive and often misunderstood topic, I dismissed it as something that someone else would do much better than I.

I wonder if God grows weary of me trying to talk Him out of things that He makes abundantly clear are part of His will for my life?

Reluctantly I sit down before you, feeling very inept in my attempts to speak about such a fragile thing. At the same time, my heart is heavy and I know that once I listen and follow through with what I feel I am being led to do, the burden will be lifted and hopefully someone will be encouraged.

I know that there are many fathers out there holding everything together with their kiddos. I’m not going to talk about them. Reason being, I’ve never been a single dad. I have, however, been a single mom. I can speak from experience and hopefully share strength and hope as well.

Recently there have been a slew of things flooding my mind, but few reach my heart. The other day I was talking with a friend who asked if I would be willing to meet with an acquaintance of hers who was going through a difficult time. Without thinking or praying about it, I quickly said, “Sure!” (side not: that’s never a wise thing for me to do. Answer quickly. It usually means that my motives are selfish.)

This beautiful, young woman and I met for coffee. As I listened to her story unfold I began realizing that I had completely abandoned a part of my life that was a significant part of who I am.

I watched her eyes fill with tears though she would not allow herself to cry. I listened, I watched and I remembered. Suddenly I was taken back to a time in my life that was more difficult than I even realized at the time.

Some people choose it. Others are left. I chose it.

This woman had chosen it as well. Without telling you details of her story, without needing to, I can tell you that she’s in for a difficult road in her immediate future.

This got me thinking…now that I’m happily married to someone I adore and I have a beautiful family, does that exempt me from walking beside someone who is in the midst of the wreckage?

No. If anything it equips me to provide encouragement and a safe place away from the attorneys and bill collectors, accusers and mockers. I know first hand that she is misunderstood, judged, ridiculed and rejected by former friends and family. I know that she is scared. Fearful of not being able to pay the bills, of ever getting sick, of losing her low income housing. There is so much fear and doubt and uncertainty.

Have you ever been in that place of not really knowing from day to day what your life will look like? Do you know any single moms? Many of them have residence in that place of relentless uncertainty.

With Father’s day upon us, please be mindful of your words and intentions when speaking. Especially to children. There are some moms out there who are making it happen in both roles. Please don’t make assumptions or judgements.

If you’re a parent, you know how difficult it is raising human beings that will hopefully be productive members of society. There are days when I wonder what I would do if I couldn’t say to Chris, “Tag, You’re it!” so that I can have a few moments of sanity.

Being a parent is one of the most difficult jobs in the world. We are pulled in so many directions. When you have more than one child it can be stressful even with two of you trying to make all of the school functions, sporting events, dinners around the table as a family and quality time investing in the relationship and future of your child(ren).

Imagine trying to do all of those things by yourself. Raising children alone can be one of the most isolating things out there. It’s difficult to explain, except to say that it’s not what you think…she’s not who you think she is…things are not as they appear to be.

May I encourage you to do something extraordinary? If you know a single mom and you want to help, offer to keep her kids (at no charge) while she runs errands or takes a shower and blow drys her hair or takes a walk. Send her a handwritten note of encouragement. Offer to take her grocery list, go shopping for her and deliver her groceries. Let her know by your actions that she’s not alone.

It’s not enough to say, “What can I do?”
There are so many things. It’s difficult to know where to start. The question will usually elicit one of two responses; “Oh, nothing, I’m fine.” or “Just pray.”
We must take the initiative.

I challenge you to make an effort this week to positively impact the life of a single mom in your community. And after you do, I want to know about it so that I can thank you.

Are you a single mom? What are your top three worries, struggles, concerns? What would be the biggest help to you from an outsider? Please leave a comment below or if you would rather remain anonymous, you can email me at the address found here.

Something Stinketh

Have you ever found yourself standing in this isle of the grocery store or super target, mouth slightly ajar, overwhelmed with where to even begin?
I have! In fact, every couple of weeks I find myself standing right here, eyes glazing over as I look at all of the options that promise incredible results. As U2 would say, “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.”

Which leaves me no choice but to implore you to join me in the fight against sweaty pits in the south. I’m tired of throwing money away on products that leave me feeling less than “fresh.” Help a sister out. What do you use and why do you love it?

I know there are some gals out there using men’s deodorant. I’m not opposed to that. Come on! Share your secret. The only thing worse than bad breath is smelling “tired” as my grandmother would say.

Before you start flooding the comments with helpful suggestions, see how many of the slogans you can correctly match with it’s brand of deodorant or as I affectionately call it, “el stinketh repelente.”

Give it your best guess…(hint: there are more answers than slogans. I couldn’t make it too easy)

Possible answers: Almay, Ban, Dove, Secret, Sure, Gillette, Rexona, Axe, Arrid

“Raise your hand if you’re sure!”

“Strong enough for a man. But made for a woman.”

“It won’t let you down.”

“Dare to bare your even-toned underarms.”

“Outstanding protection against odor and wetness.”

Giving you the confidence to handle whatever the day has in store.” 

Ok, now you can answer this short poll. Who doesn’t love a great poll?!

When I was a Christian

I grew up in a loving home surrounded by “God-fearing” parents, grandparents, friends and neighbors. My mom says that I prayed to receive Christ at age two. Though she was unable to decipher my words, she’s certain that’s what I did.

I distinctly remember at age seven, sitting at the kitchen counter, across from my mom, when my dad called to say that my grandfather’s long and painful battle with cancer was over. And just like that I learned of mortality…

To continue reading this post, please visit Leanne Penny’s site here where she has started a unique series called, “Beautiful Scars.”

There’s nothin’ I hate more than nothin’

I have so much stirring in my heart…my mind…my gut. Yet, when I sit in front of this screen with a blank page of endless possibilities before me, just waiting for my words to create thoughts that explain something about this crazy journey I’m on…I got nothin’.

So I have avoided coming here…to this place where I bare my soul and reveal my idiosyncrasies. After reading this quote from Anais Nin, “If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don’t write, because our culture has no use for it.” I am back here…in this place…where I can breathe.

There are many things that have been brewing deep down in the parts of my being rarely visited. Things that have been around for a while that I push back down whenever they attempt to surface. The problem is, I’m tired of pushing against the inevitable. Those things needing to be dealt with will eventually burst through, leaving me with no choice but to sift through the wreckage.

Who enjoys that?! Certainly not I. In order to sift through my wreckage I need more than some disposable plastic gloves. I need waders at the very least, but preferably a hazmat suit. It’s ugly and it hurts. It’s like cleaning gravel from a fresh wound. Hurts like hell, but the only way to prevent infection is to destroy the threat.

So here I am…beginning the cleansing process…Of what, I’m not exactly sure…yet. But just as the past has proven, more will be revealed.

I have been looking through pictures as they usually calm my spirit and I came across these two that I love. I love them for many reasons. One being that the first one was taken only minutes after my son was born prematurely via c-section. Another is because his life represents so many wonderful things. Defying the odds. Proving wrong one scary diagnosis after another. This little boy and me, we are not only survivors, we are conquerors.

And there is one very obvious fact that I cannot deny.
It’s this…God is good.
He is faithful.

And because of that, when words fail me, even if in a whisper, I must speak the beautiful name of my Savior.

This is my prayer in the days to come.

“Help me lift your name higher… Jesus
You are my heart’s desire… Jesus
You set my soul on fire… Jesus
Your all consuming power… Jesus
I need you every hour… JesusSaviorMasterHealerRestorerRescuerRedeemerLover of my soul.”
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