I have two children. Both are teenagers now but they are only 14 months apart so there was a time when I had two very small children to look after AT THE SAME TIME. Only one of my children has had to have stitches. When Ben was a toddler, he ran everywhere instead of walking. One morning I was sitting on my bed as he came hurling himself into my bedroom with a blanket over his head. The next 3 seconds are a blur.He trips over the bottom edge of the blanket, falls, and hits his chin on the bed rail. I was within arms length of him when he fell. I reached for him but it was too late.It all just happened so fast.
Both Ben and Cara have had strep throat and I waited it out to see if it was viral because fever seemed to be the only symptom. Both were eating and drinking normally. Both were playing and behaving normally. Both had strep and I didn't catch it until DAYS later.
Life doesn't come to a grinding halt just because you have two small children. Meals still need to be prepared. Laundry still has to be washed, dried, folded, and put up. Bills still have to be paid. Shopping still has to be done. I do not know exactly how many times I took my children to Walmart with me. It must have been bunches because I still to this day have horrible flashbacks. I remember many times when I would stop to get something off of the shelf or be looking at an article of clothing on a rack and 3 or 4 seconds later, I would be chasing one or both down a grocery aisle or rummaging under clothing racks to fish out a child or two.
Several days ago, a 4 year old child fell into a gorilla exhibit at a Cincinnati zoo. Ultimately, the gorilla was shot and killed and the boy is safe and doing fine. All of the sudden there are hundreds of thousands of perfect parents and wild gorilla experts coming out of the woodwork, spouting opinions based on feeling , not facts.
The mom has been judged by perfect parents everywhere as being negligent. Do you personally know her? Do you spend time with her and her children and observe her being negligent on a regular basis? No ? SHUT UP ! Were you there to witness the events as they took place? No? SHUT UP? Have you never lost sight of your child for even a second ? No? LIAR AND SHUT UP! You can say a million times that YOUR child would never had been the one to fall into the exhibit. You can say that YOU are a better parent. YOU are judgemental and ignorant to the world around you. Parenting small children is no joke and if you have never witnessed your child almost come face to face with disaster while you stand there helpless to stop it, it has nothing to do with your parenting skills. You better hit your knees in gratitude because you have been blessed.
The zoo officials have been judged by hundreds of thousands of people who apparently identify as wild gorilla experts. How many years have you spent with gorillas in the wild to observe their behavior? Zero? For real? SHUT UP ! How many years have you worked at the zoo? Zero? SHUT UP ! How much experience do you have shooting 450 pound gorillas with tranquilizer darts? None? SHUT UP!
This country is suffering from an epidemic of judgement and condemnation based on how they feel and one or two facts. Too many have an opinion and are quick to shout it out without waiting for confirmation or research. Too many assume incorrectly that their opinion trumps fact. STOP IT ! Stop being so self absorbed, self righteous, and stupid. SHUT UP !
I know it may be too much to ask , but, how about we extend the mother and the zoo in question a little mercy and grace? How about we as a society recognize that NONE of us are perfect and we ALL make mistakes. Fortunately for us all, not many mistakes end in death, but sometimes they do.How about we give the benefit of doubt? How about we stop judging people for making split second decisions that do not line up with what we THINK we would do? Fact : YOU weren't there. Fact : You did not witness the event. Fact: You aren't a perfect parent either. Fact: You aren't an expert on wild gorilla behavior. Fact : You should SHUT UP !
Disclaimer : I made some pretty harsh snap judgements when I first read this story. I pretty quickly realized that since I was not there and didn't have many facts, I had no right to do so. When I say we as a society, I am preaching to myself as well. This was also a reminder to MYSELF to shut up the next time I make judgements because I do not have the right. It was a reminder to MYSELF to NOT be self absorbed, self righteous , and stupid. It was a reminder to MYSELF to always give the benefit of the doubt and to offer mercy and grace instead.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Friday, May 6, 2016
Guns in the restroom
I shy away from posting anything political on social media because I despise the nastiness that usually ensues. I only discuss politics with my husband, my children, and a few close friends. Although this blog post will be shared to Facebook, I still will only discuss politics with those particular people. I will not debate what I write on my personal blog. Written below is MY observation and you can agree or disagree with it. One disclaimer down, one to go. I HATE labels and stereotypes with a passion but for the purposes of this observation, I will use the words liberal and conservative. Yes, I do know that not everyone who identifies as a liberal feels the same as I am going to portray just as I know that not everyone who identifies as a conservative feels the same as I am going to portray. ( the very reason that I hate labels and stereotypes) I am just calling it as I see it. Below are examples of made up conversations between a liberal ( L) and a conservative (C)
Subject : Gun control
L: Did you watch the news this morning?
C: I caught a little bit of it, why?
L: Did you see what happened in Oregon, the school shooting?
C: Yeah.
L: Ridiculous is what it is. When is this country gonna wake up? How many children have to die at the hand of some lunatic with a gun before something is done?
C: You do realize that not everyone who owns a gun is a lunatic waiting to shoot up a school right?
L: Yes, but you realize that the laws we have now just makes it easier for a lunatic to get a gun?
C: I realize that if someone intends to harm a lot of people at one time, and a gun is their weapon of choice that there isn't a law that can be made that will stop them from obtaining a gun, legally OR illegally, and carrying out their plan. Lunatics don't follow the law.
Subject : Allowing someone to use the restroom of their choice
C: Did you watch the news this morning?
L: I caught a little bit of it, why?
C: Can you believe what Target has done, letting men use the women's bathroom?
L: Yeah.
C: Ridiculous is what it is. When is this country gonna wake up? How many children will be molested by some pedophile before something is done?
L: You do realize that transgender does not mean pedophile right?
C: Yes, but you realize that allowing men to use the women's restroom just makes it easier for the pedophiles to get to their target?
L: I realize that is someone intends to harm a child in that way, there is no law that will stop them from doing it. Legal or illegal, they will find a way to carry out their plan. Pedophiles don't follow the law.
Different subject, same argument. Around and around in circles we go. I can only imagine the conversation that will take place when a pedophile walks into a women's restroom and attacks a woman by gunpoint. I have halted listening to and reading any and all arguments for or against either subject. My opinion on both is this ; the gun toting lunatic and the restroom pedophile are equally evil. Their plans are to harm a fellow human being. Both will find a way to do so regardless of any law passed, past, present, or in the future. Both will answer for their actions, if not on this earth, then on judgement day. My hope is that they answer for their actions on earth AND on judgement day. I live IN this world, not OF this world, therefore it is not my duty to judge those OF this world. Only God has the authority to do that and I will gladly let him have that job. As for me, I want nothing else to do with it !
Subject : Gun control
L: Did you watch the news this morning?
C: I caught a little bit of it, why?
L: Did you see what happened in Oregon, the school shooting?
C: Yeah.
L: Ridiculous is what it is. When is this country gonna wake up? How many children have to die at the hand of some lunatic with a gun before something is done?
C: You do realize that not everyone who owns a gun is a lunatic waiting to shoot up a school right?
L: Yes, but you realize that the laws we have now just makes it easier for a lunatic to get a gun?
C: I realize that if someone intends to harm a lot of people at one time, and a gun is their weapon of choice that there isn't a law that can be made that will stop them from obtaining a gun, legally OR illegally, and carrying out their plan. Lunatics don't follow the law.
Subject : Allowing someone to use the restroom of their choice
C: Did you watch the news this morning?
L: I caught a little bit of it, why?
C: Can you believe what Target has done, letting men use the women's bathroom?
L: Yeah.
C: Ridiculous is what it is. When is this country gonna wake up? How many children will be molested by some pedophile before something is done?
L: You do realize that transgender does not mean pedophile right?
C: Yes, but you realize that allowing men to use the women's restroom just makes it easier for the pedophiles to get to their target?
L: I realize that is someone intends to harm a child in that way, there is no law that will stop them from doing it. Legal or illegal, they will find a way to carry out their plan. Pedophiles don't follow the law.
Different subject, same argument. Around and around in circles we go. I can only imagine the conversation that will take place when a pedophile walks into a women's restroom and attacks a woman by gunpoint. I have halted listening to and reading any and all arguments for or against either subject. My opinion on both is this ; the gun toting lunatic and the restroom pedophile are equally evil. Their plans are to harm a fellow human being. Both will find a way to do so regardless of any law passed, past, present, or in the future. Both will answer for their actions, if not on this earth, then on judgement day. My hope is that they answer for their actions on earth AND on judgement day. I live IN this world, not OF this world, therefore it is not my duty to judge those OF this world. Only God has the authority to do that and I will gladly let him have that job. As for me, I want nothing else to do with it !
Monday, November 2, 2015
Learning To Say No Like A Boss
It is Monday morning and therefore today is the day that I wrap up or "finish" what wasn't checked off last week's "to do" list. Like most people, I am almost constantly thinking that there aren't enough hours in the day to do everything I need to do. That is a lie and I'll tell you why.
I am a stay at home mom, a wife, and part time substitute teacher. A major portion of the population believes that I sit around and watch talk shows and soap operas all day. Sigh...if only that were true. Most days, I go non stop from 6am til after 8 pm just as if I worked a "real job". The difference is, I DON'T get paid in spendable currency.
I am a stay at home mom because I can be, well, that, and I almost kind of have to be. My husband makes enough money to pay our bills but that also means that he works 50 to 60 hours a week which means that he brings home the bacon and I fry it up in a pan. It also means that I do EVERYTHING else and I am good at it. I make sure our children are at school every morning with everything they need for their day as well as everywhere else they may need to be for extra curricular activities. I do ALL of the house cleaning, ALL of the bill paying, ALL of the banking, ALL of the grocery shopping, ALL of the cooking. I could go on but you get the picture. Because of Eric's crazy hours, ALL that he can't do, I do.
On top of ALL of that, I have added working out 4 to 5 times a week, cleaning the church once a month, cooking for the Wednesday night youth meeting at church once a month, cooking once a month for community meal night at church, attending and sometimes teaching a women's Bible study one evening a month, and a once weekly Bible study with a friend. I also try to fix a meal and either deliver it or have someone over for a meal once a month. I sub for the city schools and most recently have added a subbing stint at a church in Pilot Mountain, working 5 days last month.
By mid October my datebook was a scary place and there were many days when I was on auto pilot , would crash when my head hit the pillow only to get up the next morning and start a new day that looked very much like the day before. On the evening of a particularly brutal day, my daughter and I were headed to a school function that she had to attend and I was telling her how exhausted I was and why. I was explaining to her why we probably would not be doing something that she had asked to do. The explanation included how I could not physically add even just one more thing. What she said to me in that moment changed my whole thought process. She said " And how exactly is that MY fault? Mama, you need to learn how to say no more than you say yes."
A trip to the doctor and some bloodwork results in July made me realize that I needed to change how I take care of myself if I want to continue to take care of my family full time , now and for years to come. I will address that and what has transpired because of it in a blog very soon. Between July and now I have battled with making myself a priority and I was failing miserably. One day last week I ate only an apple for lunch and it took me an hour to eat that because I was taking bites between peeling and chopping 15 pounds of potatoes for a Wednesday night youth meal.For far too long I have made everyone and everything else more important and that must stop and stop now. It was in that moment that I decided that I do need to say no more than I say yes and declared November "SAY NO" month.
I struggle with saying no. I hate hate hate feeling as if I have let someone down . Why can't my no just mean no? Why do I always feel the need to explain myself? I do not know the answers to those questions but by the end of this month I shall be well on my way to saying no like a boss.
My to do list today looked like this : Drop off children at school, 2 loads of laundry, clean toilets, sweep downstairs, drop off items that have been sitting in a pile for 2 weeks at the cleaners to be repaired, take something back to Goodwill for a refund because this is the last day I can get one, take off the trash, workout at the gym, make mammogram appointment, call for prescription refill , grocery store run for 2 or 3 things, and somewhere in between all of that, put up freshly washed laundry, shower, eat lunch, plan supper, take dogs to potty multiple times, cook, pay 2 bills, scrub and pre-treat Eric's work jeans for washing tonight and probably 3 or 4 things that will come up as the day wears on. At 7 :25 I am getting into my car to take my children to school. I am wearing sweatpants, a t shirt, and flip flops. My hair has been combed but needs a serious washing. I have on no makeup and I am not sure I had even brushed my teeth. As I put the car in reverse I get a text asking if I can sub today. I would love to say yes but just to get there on time would have meant that I would have needed to leave the house at least 10 minutes before then and in different clothes. It just wasn't possible. I quickly texted back that I could not and it took everything in me to resist a separate response explaining why I couldn't. I said no and it was uncomfortable but I stuck to it. I have crossed off much of my to do list today and because I said no, I have nothing that I have to carry over to tomorrow's to do list. Maybe I can learn to say no like a boss. We shall see.
I am a stay at home mom, a wife, and part time substitute teacher. A major portion of the population believes that I sit around and watch talk shows and soap operas all day. Sigh...if only that were true. Most days, I go non stop from 6am til after 8 pm just as if I worked a "real job". The difference is, I DON'T get paid in spendable currency.
I am a stay at home mom because I can be, well, that, and I almost kind of have to be. My husband makes enough money to pay our bills but that also means that he works 50 to 60 hours a week which means that he brings home the bacon and I fry it up in a pan. It also means that I do EVERYTHING else and I am good at it. I make sure our children are at school every morning with everything they need for their day as well as everywhere else they may need to be for extra curricular activities. I do ALL of the house cleaning, ALL of the bill paying, ALL of the banking, ALL of the grocery shopping, ALL of the cooking. I could go on but you get the picture. Because of Eric's crazy hours, ALL that he can't do, I do.
On top of ALL of that, I have added working out 4 to 5 times a week, cleaning the church once a month, cooking for the Wednesday night youth meeting at church once a month, cooking once a month for community meal night at church, attending and sometimes teaching a women's Bible study one evening a month, and a once weekly Bible study with a friend. I also try to fix a meal and either deliver it or have someone over for a meal once a month. I sub for the city schools and most recently have added a subbing stint at a church in Pilot Mountain, working 5 days last month.
By mid October my datebook was a scary place and there were many days when I was on auto pilot , would crash when my head hit the pillow only to get up the next morning and start a new day that looked very much like the day before. On the evening of a particularly brutal day, my daughter and I were headed to a school function that she had to attend and I was telling her how exhausted I was and why. I was explaining to her why we probably would not be doing something that she had asked to do. The explanation included how I could not physically add even just one more thing. What she said to me in that moment changed my whole thought process. She said " And how exactly is that MY fault? Mama, you need to learn how to say no more than you say yes."
A trip to the doctor and some bloodwork results in July made me realize that I needed to change how I take care of myself if I want to continue to take care of my family full time , now and for years to come. I will address that and what has transpired because of it in a blog very soon. Between July and now I have battled with making myself a priority and I was failing miserably. One day last week I ate only an apple for lunch and it took me an hour to eat that because I was taking bites between peeling and chopping 15 pounds of potatoes for a Wednesday night youth meal.For far too long I have made everyone and everything else more important and that must stop and stop now. It was in that moment that I decided that I do need to say no more than I say yes and declared November "SAY NO" month.
I struggle with saying no. I hate hate hate feeling as if I have let someone down . Why can't my no just mean no? Why do I always feel the need to explain myself? I do not know the answers to those questions but by the end of this month I shall be well on my way to saying no like a boss.
My to do list today looked like this : Drop off children at school, 2 loads of laundry, clean toilets, sweep downstairs, drop off items that have been sitting in a pile for 2 weeks at the cleaners to be repaired, take something back to Goodwill for a refund because this is the last day I can get one, take off the trash, workout at the gym, make mammogram appointment, call for prescription refill , grocery store run for 2 or 3 things, and somewhere in between all of that, put up freshly washed laundry, shower, eat lunch, plan supper, take dogs to potty multiple times, cook, pay 2 bills, scrub and pre-treat Eric's work jeans for washing tonight and probably 3 or 4 things that will come up as the day wears on. At 7 :25 I am getting into my car to take my children to school. I am wearing sweatpants, a t shirt, and flip flops. My hair has been combed but needs a serious washing. I have on no makeup and I am not sure I had even brushed my teeth. As I put the car in reverse I get a text asking if I can sub today. I would love to say yes but just to get there on time would have meant that I would have needed to leave the house at least 10 minutes before then and in different clothes. It just wasn't possible. I quickly texted back that I could not and it took everything in me to resist a separate response explaining why I couldn't. I said no and it was uncomfortable but I stuck to it. I have crossed off much of my to do list today and because I said no, I have nothing that I have to carry over to tomorrow's to do list. Maybe I can learn to say no like a boss. We shall see.
Friday, September 4, 2015
The simple beauty of prayer
Recently I was scrolling down my page on Facebook and stopped to read a post about prayer. Let me begin by saying I love the woman who made the post. I know her to be intelligent, funny, beautiful, hardworking, and an incredibly devoted mother. It is certainly NOT my intention to blast her or her character.This is me using my blog to share a different opinion about the subject .
The post was as such : I read often people asking for prayers for this or that. prayer is a wonderful thing. But think about this...There is always someone in a worse situation than you are; so maybe if you pray for people who are suffering so badly and count your blessings, even though you are going through a difficult time, the love and prayers you are giving will come back to you.
I get it. I really really do. On a daily basis, my page is filled with mountains of prayer requests and at times, it seems a little overwhelming. The post bothered me way more than it should have and I am not really sure why. Maybe it is because I am really passionate about prayer. Prayer used to be something I was not very good at. As I have matured in my faith, I decided I had to work on that. I have a long list of friends that specifically call upon me to pray for them. Why me? They know, without a doubt, that if at all possible, I will stop what I am doing a pray immediately. If not, then, then I will honestly sometimes physically write it down so I will remember to do it before the sun sets on that day. To me prayer is more than a wonderful thing. Prayer is an essential and extremely important part of my faith .
So here is what happened when I broke apart the post in my head. Allow me to propose a hypothetical situation. I receive a call from the local hospital and the person on the other end informs me that my husband has just been brought in via ambulance and to get there as soon as I can. Upon arrival I am told that his injuries are not life threatening but he is in surgery. Later, the surgeon explains that the immediate issues were fixed but he will probably need two to three more surgeries in the next year or so to completely repair damage done. All of the sudden, the world as I know it has completely turned upside down. My husband who I love dearly will most likely endure a massive amount of physical pain in the next year. Our finances have just been blown to pieces. Not only will we lose his income, but medical bills will probably bury us. The very same day, my neighbor's 3 year old is diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer and according to the doctor it's really just a matter of time. They are told to make him comfortable and prepare for the worst. I know my husband will eventually recover and come home, meanwhile this family will lose their child forever. So according to the logic used above, should I not request prayer for our situation, count my blessings that my husband is going to be okay, and focus on praying for the neighbor because their situation seems to be worse than mine? To use a phrase from one of my favorite commercials...that is not how this works. That is not how any of this works.
Philippians 4:6 says : Do not be anxious about anything but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. So, basically, whatever makes us anxious, whether it be big or small, worse than someone else or not, while counting our blessings, we are to present our requests to God. God doesn't play favorites. Once our requests reach his ears, he does not sit back on his throne and throw out answers to them based upon how dire the situation is. God answers prayer according to his will and his plan and in his time. He loves us all. He cares about all of our cares, concerns, situations, heartaches, burdens, and pain. ALL. Nothing is too insignificant to God and nothing should be insignificant to us either. If I scroll my page and see two prayer requests, one because a husband lost a job and one because a husband died, who am I to decide whose situation is worse ? Do I tell the wife of the unemployed husband that she should count her blessings that at least her husband is alive and she should pray for the wife who just lost her husband? Do I tell the wife who just lost her husband to death that she should count her blessings that she will at least be financially taken care of because he had fabulous life insurance and that she should pray for the wife whose husband just lost his job?
Yes, we should count our blessings. Yes, what we put out there comes back to us. Both statements are accurate. The bottom line is this: I am a woman that prays. Sometimes it is all I can really do for someone when I can't physically do anything else for their situation. When I get to the point that I reach out to others and request that they pray for me, I surely want as many voices as I can to be calling out my name to God on my behalf.I would imagine that anyone who swallows their pride and uses a public forum to ask for prayer hopes for the same. I guess I could decide that another's situation is worse than mine and instead of asking anyone to pray for me, count my blessings, and hope that somebody, somewhere, sees my situation and thinks that mine is worse than theirs and that they actually take the time to pray for me. I propose that I can do both. I can ask for people to pray for me while I go to God in prayer, thank him for how richly I have been blessed and then call out the names of those not as fortunate as myself.
I have one last thought but it might be the most important to me. This country has never been more divided. Politics, race relations, economics, and religion has pushed us all into our separate corners , foaming at the mouth to be heard and gearing up to fight for what we believe in. I can see the absolutely incredible beauty in many of us coming together to pray for others, all in one accord and all in agreement for one purpose, to reach God's ears with our voices, all calling out the same name to him who holds the world in his hands and hears our hearts. I can't call out your name in my prayers if you don't ask.
If by chance my friend who wrote the original post is reading this , I hope that you are not angry or offended by what I have written. I do firmly believe that two people can disagree and still respect and love each other. I do respect you and I do still love you.
The post was as such : I read often people asking for prayers for this or that. prayer is a wonderful thing. But think about this...There is always someone in a worse situation than you are; so maybe if you pray for people who are suffering so badly and count your blessings, even though you are going through a difficult time, the love and prayers you are giving will come back to you.
I get it. I really really do. On a daily basis, my page is filled with mountains of prayer requests and at times, it seems a little overwhelming. The post bothered me way more than it should have and I am not really sure why. Maybe it is because I am really passionate about prayer. Prayer used to be something I was not very good at. As I have matured in my faith, I decided I had to work on that. I have a long list of friends that specifically call upon me to pray for them. Why me? They know, without a doubt, that if at all possible, I will stop what I am doing a pray immediately. If not, then, then I will honestly sometimes physically write it down so I will remember to do it before the sun sets on that day. To me prayer is more than a wonderful thing. Prayer is an essential and extremely important part of my faith .
So here is what happened when I broke apart the post in my head. Allow me to propose a hypothetical situation. I receive a call from the local hospital and the person on the other end informs me that my husband has just been brought in via ambulance and to get there as soon as I can. Upon arrival I am told that his injuries are not life threatening but he is in surgery. Later, the surgeon explains that the immediate issues were fixed but he will probably need two to three more surgeries in the next year or so to completely repair damage done. All of the sudden, the world as I know it has completely turned upside down. My husband who I love dearly will most likely endure a massive amount of physical pain in the next year. Our finances have just been blown to pieces. Not only will we lose his income, but medical bills will probably bury us. The very same day, my neighbor's 3 year old is diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer and according to the doctor it's really just a matter of time. They are told to make him comfortable and prepare for the worst. I know my husband will eventually recover and come home, meanwhile this family will lose their child forever. So according to the logic used above, should I not request prayer for our situation, count my blessings that my husband is going to be okay, and focus on praying for the neighbor because their situation seems to be worse than mine? To use a phrase from one of my favorite commercials...that is not how this works. That is not how any of this works.
Philippians 4:6 says : Do not be anxious about anything but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. So, basically, whatever makes us anxious, whether it be big or small, worse than someone else or not, while counting our blessings, we are to present our requests to God. God doesn't play favorites. Once our requests reach his ears, he does not sit back on his throne and throw out answers to them based upon how dire the situation is. God answers prayer according to his will and his plan and in his time. He loves us all. He cares about all of our cares, concerns, situations, heartaches, burdens, and pain. ALL. Nothing is too insignificant to God and nothing should be insignificant to us either. If I scroll my page and see two prayer requests, one because a husband lost a job and one because a husband died, who am I to decide whose situation is worse ? Do I tell the wife of the unemployed husband that she should count her blessings that at least her husband is alive and she should pray for the wife who just lost her husband? Do I tell the wife who just lost her husband to death that she should count her blessings that she will at least be financially taken care of because he had fabulous life insurance and that she should pray for the wife whose husband just lost his job?
Yes, we should count our blessings. Yes, what we put out there comes back to us. Both statements are accurate. The bottom line is this: I am a woman that prays. Sometimes it is all I can really do for someone when I can't physically do anything else for their situation. When I get to the point that I reach out to others and request that they pray for me, I surely want as many voices as I can to be calling out my name to God on my behalf.I would imagine that anyone who swallows their pride and uses a public forum to ask for prayer hopes for the same. I guess I could decide that another's situation is worse than mine and instead of asking anyone to pray for me, count my blessings, and hope that somebody, somewhere, sees my situation and thinks that mine is worse than theirs and that they actually take the time to pray for me. I propose that I can do both. I can ask for people to pray for me while I go to God in prayer, thank him for how richly I have been blessed and then call out the names of those not as fortunate as myself.
I have one last thought but it might be the most important to me. This country has never been more divided. Politics, race relations, economics, and religion has pushed us all into our separate corners , foaming at the mouth to be heard and gearing up to fight for what we believe in. I can see the absolutely incredible beauty in many of us coming together to pray for others, all in one accord and all in agreement for one purpose, to reach God's ears with our voices, all calling out the same name to him who holds the world in his hands and hears our hearts. I can't call out your name in my prayers if you don't ask.
If by chance my friend who wrote the original post is reading this , I hope that you are not angry or offended by what I have written. I do firmly believe that two people can disagree and still respect and love each other. I do respect you and I do still love you.
Saturday, August 8, 2015
People and shells, shells and people
This past week I went on a 3 day adventure with my mom and daughter. If you missed it, you can catch up here :http://www.juliehmarshall.blogspot.com/2015/08/for-love-of-shells.html . As I was combing the beaches , sifting through piles, I saw something in the process that I had never noticed before. Shells are an awful lot like people. I know, it sounds like a stretch but just hang in there and allow me to explain.
Of course, there is the obvious, all shells, just as people, are created by God . All have some of the same characteristics, yet all are unique in their own way. Some are black. Some are white. Some are multi-colored, and the rest are all shades in between. There are many different sizes, some are tiny. Some are large. The rest are in between.
Some shells are smooth. Some are rough around the edges.There are skinny shells and fat ones. There are ones that you can find hundreds of in a short period of time ( like the ones pictured above) and then there are the more rare ones that there are fewer of ( like the ones pictured here.)
No two shells are exactly alike, yet every one of them starts out the same. Seashells are the exoskeletons of mollusks such as snails, clams,
oysters and many others. Such shells have three distinct layers and are
composed mostly of calcium carbonate with only a small quantity of
protein--no more than 2 percent. These shells, unlike typical animal
structures, are not made up of cells. Mantle tissue that is located
under and in contact with the shell secretes proteins and mineral
extracellularly to form the shell. Think of laying down steel (protein)
and pouring concrete (mineral) over it. Thus, seashells grow from the
bottom up, or by adding material at the margins. Since their exoskeleton
is not shed, molluscan shells must enlarge to accommodate body growth.
This pattern of growth results in three distinct shell layers: an outer
proteinaceous periosteum (uncalcified), a prismatic layer (calcified)
and an inner pearly layer of nacre (calcified).
As the creature inside of the shell grows, so does the shell Once the sea creature living within a shell dies, the empty shell washes up on the shore to be found by someone like me, who finds beauty in them and their purpose.The ocean is unforgiving, tossing everything inside of it to and fro every minute of every day. Shells are hard to protect the creature inside but they aren't indestructible. There comes a time when the constant pounding of the ocean will produce chips, cracks, and gouges. Just as a shell can be broken, so can we. Sometimes the constant pounding of life chips away at us, cracks our hearts, and gouges our souls.The blemishes caused by the storms of life aren't always immediately evident. At first glance the exterior still looks whole and perfect.
A closer look reveals the damage done to the interior.
There are times in this journey called life that we feel washed up and abandoned upon the shore. Every once in a while someone like me runs across the broken shells that other's may leave laying and I pick them up and take them home because I see beauty in the brokenness. Every once in a while someone will see the beauty in a broken abandoned soul and love it regardless of it's blemishes and even if that never happens, God still does. Our heavenly Father created us , each one of us with some the same characteristics as everyone else, but all absolutely totally different than everyone else. He sees our brokenness even when no one else can. He sees past the chips, cracks, and gouges. He leans down, picks us up in His massive loving hands, and takes us home after the life within us ends.
Of course, there is the obvious, all shells, just as people, are created by God . All have some of the same characteristics, yet all are unique in their own way. Some are black. Some are white. Some are multi-colored, and the rest are all shades in between. There are many different sizes, some are tiny. Some are large. The rest are in between.
Some shells are smooth. Some are rough around the edges.There are skinny shells and fat ones. There are ones that you can find hundreds of in a short period of time ( like the ones pictured above) and then there are the more rare ones that there are fewer of ( like the ones pictured here.)
As the creature inside of the shell grows, so does the shell Once the sea creature living within a shell dies, the empty shell washes up on the shore to be found by someone like me, who finds beauty in them and their purpose.The ocean is unforgiving, tossing everything inside of it to and fro every minute of every day. Shells are hard to protect the creature inside but they aren't indestructible. There comes a time when the constant pounding of the ocean will produce chips, cracks, and gouges. Just as a shell can be broken, so can we. Sometimes the constant pounding of life chips away at us, cracks our hearts, and gouges our souls.The blemishes caused by the storms of life aren't always immediately evident. At first glance the exterior still looks whole and perfect.
A closer look reveals the damage done to the interior.
There are times in this journey called life that we feel washed up and abandoned upon the shore. Every once in a while someone like me runs across the broken shells that other's may leave laying and I pick them up and take them home because I see beauty in the brokenness. Every once in a while someone will see the beauty in a broken abandoned soul and love it regardless of it's blemishes and even if that never happens, God still does. Our heavenly Father created us , each one of us with some the same characteristics as everyone else, but all absolutely totally different than everyone else. He sees our brokenness even when no one else can. He sees past the chips, cracks, and gouges. He leans down, picks us up in His massive loving hands, and takes us home after the life within us ends.
Thursday, August 6, 2015
For the love of shells
The ocean...eternally churning, moving forward then receding, tumultuous, magnificent, and salty. For me, the ocean is healing, calming and draws me like a moth drawn to the flame. When I sit in front of it and watch the waves, one after the other, crash upon the sand , I get this beautiful picture in my head. I see God, my father, my rock, my protector, my everything, catching tears, not just mine but everyone who sheds them in pain. As they fill up his mighty hand, they overflow and spill out into the oceans, refilling them . When given the chance, I can sit and listen to the pounding of the waves upon the sand for hours. I believe the ocean to be one of the greatest of God's masterpieces. Surely there must be something like it in heaven. I can hope right? ...and before the throne there was something like a sea of glass, like crystal ; and in the center and around the throne, four living creatures and full of eyes in front and behind. Revelation 4:6 And I saw what looked like a sea of glass glowing with fire and, standing beside the sea, those who had been victorious over the beast and its image and over the number of its name. They held harps given them by God Revelation 15:2. I know, taken out of context but I still hope.
Genesis 1:21God created the great sea monsters and every living creature that moves, with which the waters swarmed after their kind, and every winged bird after its kind; and God saw that it was good. God created the seas and then filled them with creatures that live within them. I find most of the creatures that live within them fascinating. I have a particular fascination with the shells that some of the sea creatures call home for awhile. God in his infinite wisdom knew that some of his creations were fragile and needed protection for their survival...thus shells came to be.
I believe that I received my love of shells from my mother. As far back as I remember, a trip to the beach with her meant hours of combing the beach for shells. At times, we would literally just sit down into the piles because leaning over for that long is bad for the lower back. When my step dad was still alive , he and Mom would go to Atlantic beach every couple of years and visit Shackleford Banks so she could go shelling. After every visit, she would tell me how much she loved it and that I really needed to go someday. Frank has been gone for almost 5 years now. During those years, Mom has survived a massive heart attack and breast cancer. At 66 years old , she still works a stressful full time job and shares her home with my niece, her two small children and their father. To say that she knows little peace is a huge understatement.
By March of this year, I knew it wasn't going to be possible for us to have a family vacation. I am not sure at what point I had the idea, but somewhere between then and May , God placed within me a plan. By Mother's day , all the research had been done and I announced to Mom that her Mother's day / birthday gift for this year was a trip to her beloved Shackleford Banks. The tears in her eyes when she realized I was serious confirmed that I had made a wise choice in a gift this year. It began as a trip for just me and her but grew to include my daughter , Cara.
August is still peak season so even cheap hotel rooms aren't really all that cheap. By my calculations, the amount I had to spend would cover, a hotel room for two nights , the tickets for the ferry over to the island, gas, and food.The week before our scheduled trip, I talked about my plans in a Facebook post. When I awoke the next morning I had a private message from a dear friend who wanted to generously finance another night for us so we could spend more time together. In addition, my mother's cousin, who lives about an hour away from where we were staying offered to treat us to dinner one night of our stay. Only one word comes to mind...blessed.
Our short vacation wasn't all smooth sailing and sunshine. Because of a banking issue, Mom was running late arriving at my house Tuesday morning so we didn't even arrive at our destination until after 6 pm. It was just as well because it had rained there most of the day and wouldn't have been the most fun beach day. Our plan was to ferry over to the island on Wednesday morning. The sun was shining through a few clouds so we carried on with our plan. It had been 6 or 7 years since Mom had been to Shackford Banks and she was very disappointed in the condition of the shoreline and the lack of shells compared to previous visits. Because of a storm approaching the area, the tide was ridiculously high and within an hour of arriving, a large portion of the island was flooded with waist high water. A woman who visits there quite often remarked that in all the years she has been there, she had never seen so much water on that part of the island. After being there for two hours, not finding the piles of shells that she was used to seeing, Mom was coming close to just wanting to catch the next ferry back. Unfortunately she didn't have the chance to decide that on her own. With a storm approaching, the ferry made it's last trip for the day and we were forced to leave. By the time we made it back to the hotel, the storm had turned, and the clouds gave way to a beautiful day. We spent the rest of our time that day and the next on the beach looking at the ocean more than being in the ocean because even at low tide, the surf was so incredibly rough that knee deep was a struggle and a work out.
There were plenty of moments that outweighed the bad. Two hours into our drive down Mom said that she couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so much. That is as much encouraging as it is sad. I was at the beach. I found an awesome new coffee mug. I was at the beach. On day two, I realized there was a Starbucks with 12 minutes of us. (No coffee maker in our room :-( ) I was at the beach. We saw the wild horses of Shackleford and from my understanding they are usually elusive. I was at the beach. We had 3 hours to visit with family that we do not have the chance to see very often. I was at the beach. I saw a side of my mother that I had never seen before . I was at the beach. Since Frank's death , Mom had wanted to return and leave a rose as a memorial to him. I was honored to be the vehicle for her chance to do that. Did I mention that I was at the beach?
I am tired but it is a good tired. I have memories etched into my mind that pictures can't document although I did try. This was my first trip to Atlantic Beach and even though I am not a fan of sunrises over houses and prefer the sun to come up over the ocean, if a family vacation can be worked out for next year, we may return. Because the trip over to Mom's island was pretty much a bust, I hope to take her back sooner rather than later to try again.That sounds like a fantastic excuse to go back to the beach to me.
Monday, May 18, 2015
20 years together...19 of them married.
* There was the guy I started dating while in high school . We were together for 5 years. That is longer than some people stay married. He was my first love and he cheated on me.
* There was the guy who thought he was much better looking than he actually was. He was a terrible kisser and an ego maniac. He had plenty of money but sure didn't share it by tipping the waitress of a very nice restaurant one night .
* There was the guy who was more humble and very likeable. He wasn't a bad kisser but started talking marriage and kids after the 3rd date.
* There was the guy who I crushed on for awhile and then had a brief relationship with until I found out all of it was to make his ex jealous.
* There was the creepy guy who came into my place of work with his mom 3 or more times a week and stalked the department I worked in and left weird notes and gifts on my car. ( Shudder)
* There was the guy who was my age but had more health problems than a 50 year old man.
* There was the clearly troubled psychopath.
* There was the guy who was quiet, sweet, and not bad looking but upon going out with him informed me that I was the first woman he had ever asked out and then I became the first woman he had ever kissed. I just didn't have the patience.
In walks Eric. I was working in the accounting office at the local Walmart. He worked for Loss Prevention and caught the shoplifters. I had admired his butt in a pair of jeans and he was stupid polite and respectful every time he knocked on my office door to cash in a travel voucher. It was a Saturday and I was working the 8-5 shift. The printer in the back office was down so all daily reports were re-routed to my office. By lunch , 4 hours of continuous printing noise had almost drove me to my breaking point. All I wanted to do was escape the store altogether and have lunch somewhere in town.
I drove to the ATM and my ATM card wouldn't work ( before you could use those things as debit cards). I had $2 and some change on me so in defeat I drove back to the store and went to the snack bar to see what I could get for less than $3. The snack bar on a Saturday could be standing room only so by the time I stood in line and purchased a drink , there were no seats where I could sit by myself left. Eric was sitting at a small side booth with a 16 oz Mountain Dew and a dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts . He invited me to sit down and shared his doughnuts with me. I didn't realize at the time how big of a deal him sharing that box of doughnuts really was.
When I clocked back in and ventured back to my office, he was sitting outside of it doing some paperwork. I unlocked and opened my door and if memory serves me correctly, let out a string of words that I would never say out loud today. The printer , left unattended for an hour, had strewn a mile long ribbon of reports from the printer to the other side of the office. Eric sat in the floor with me for the next 15 minutes and patiently helped me stack the mess back into order. At some point he says" I know somebody who wants to ask you out but he is intimidated by you and afraid to.' Some may not understand how little bitty ole me could possibly be intimidating but let's just say that I wasn't quite as nice and gentle back then as I am now. As I pulled myself into a standing position again, I put my hands on my hips and replied " Just go ahead and tell me who it is. I will tell you if I would say yes or not. That way if the answer would be no, you can tell him not to bother.'. He smiled and then said, " If I asked you out someday would you say yes?" My reply was , "Maybe." What he said and did next sealed the deal. He said, " Then maybe someday I will." and he turned and walked out.
Obviously he got over his illogical fear of me and asked me out and obviously I said yes. The first kiss curled my toes . His kiss still does that to me. He made me laugh even before our first date. He still makes me laugh every day. Even before he said "I love you" for the first time, I knew this was the man that I wanted to spend forever with. He still utters those three words to me about 100 times a day and it never grows old. Oh, and his butt still looks good in a pair of jeans.
Today marks 19 years that we stood in front of a church filled with family and friends and said " I do." I still do. A lot happens in 19 years. Things like 2 babies, 3 moves, countless job and vehicle changes, the death of both of his parents, a 14 month deployment...the list goes on and on. Neither one of us are the same people who said those vows that day. I like to think we are different but better. A stupid amount of growing up takes place in 19 years and we have both done our share of that.
Eric is the hardest working man I know. He awakes a little after 5 every morning and begins his work day by 6 am. He is not a desk job kinda man. He prefers physical labor, you know, sweating and getting dirty. There are days that he does not get home til 6pm. Even after a 12 hour work day, he is busy doing something most evenings until almost bedtime. He has always worked as much as necessary to make sure we had what we needed and supported my decision to be a stay at home mom for the last 14 years no matter how much the cost, and at times it was great.
Eric is kind. He is generous. He is an incredible father. He is crazy talented. He is blow your mind smart. He is all of that and a bag of chips. He is not perfect though. Mistakes have been made and stupidity has taken over several times in the course of our marriage. I am not saying that I am perfect and that I haven't been stupid a couple of times. I'm just saying that if it was a contest he would win that one. Fortunately for him , he has a sense of humor that makes it hard for me to stay mad at him . Also fortunately for him , God has blessed me with an incredible gift of forgiveness. Together, we have weathered some storms that would have ended some relationships, but for us, have brought us closer together and created a stronger, better marriage. We disagree from time to time but we rarely have what I consider fights. I honestly can only remember 3 in our 19 years together and I only consider them fights because I yelled. I often wonder how many couples have that kind of track record.
Nineteen years. Some days it seems like just yesterday and some days it seems like 100 years ago. I know it sounds corny, but I honestly believe that he was God sent. I fiercely believe that God created him for me and me for him. We certainly haven't had a fairy tale marriage but I do believe in happily ever after. I do believe in marriages that end only when death parts them. I do believe in sickness and in health, in better or worse, and in rich or poor. I believe in our marriage . Our love has weathered nineteen years of marriage. Some days , as I look around me, I realize what an accomplishment that really is. I don't know what God has in store for us but I , for one, am ready for nineteen more.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)