sweet chloe candy girl

I was handed the cutest puppy in the world, on my birthday in 2001. She was 6 weeks old and my first thought was that I didn't know how I was going to manage giving her a good life when I was so busy. I couldn't resist though. She had the sweetest eyes and I knew early on that she would be my right hand man.

Chloe is 7 years old now and I can't imagine my life without her. She has moved 6 times with me. I know she hates the moves as much as I do. She has adjusted to the craziness, time and time again. She is flexible with my schedule and still loves me every time I walk in and out of the door. I have been so busy lately. Every day it has been something- all day and all night. Thankfully, I am able to come through the house during the day. She has a walker and she has a little friend in the building. It is not that she is being neglected...it is that I miss her. This dog has brought me joy, sanity, and companionship. She is my "all-weather" friend. So, it's Saturday and instead of going out tonight- I'm staying in.

progress

two steps forward. one step back. i'm okay with that today. yesterday, i made progress. i made a decision that i did not want to make, but knew that it was best for me. it is one step toward contentment.

contentment

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. The idea that life, the way it is, is just fine...not that I want to be stagnant or not to move from this place....not that I have no ambition to move forward and achieve more...getting closer to my dreams. Rather the idea that where I am right now is okay...it is part of the plan and for what it is- I am content.

I am not here yet. I am not in a place where I can feel like I am okay and I do not need more. I do not want to get more in order to be content. I want to be able to stand in this place and be at peace. I want to wake up in the morning and if nothing has changed, still be thrilled with the new day and the lesson I am about to learn. Is this too ambitious? Are we built differently than this? Are we programmed to always want what we do not have? Or is it possible for me to hope for this kind of happiness?

I went to NY for the weekend and got home yesterday. I always love seeing my family and being a part of this circle that loves me for who I am. It's so easy and that is rejuvenating. When I got home, I became extremely anxious. Not about any one thing...just panicked, in general, about my life. I tried to sleep and couldn't. I felt like I had to DO something to change things in my life. Why? There was nothing specific that I needed to address. There were no major issues hanging over my head. There is nothing that is making me completely miserable. I just didn't feel content. I felt like there was something missing.

I do think that there are things missing in my life. Things that will add measure to me and will enhance my living. However, those things, I cannot cause to happen. I can only wait and continue to live my life to the fullest. In doing this, I know that I must find contentment where I am. I must be at peace with this place in my life. It is hard and I am not sure how to achieve this. I want this more than those things that are missing.

Somehow, today, I will encourage myself to sit back and rest in this place. I will somehow cause my heart to be patient. I will find ways to make the most of this day and the opportunities that it gives me to grow toward contentment.

seasons

I forgot just how much I missed the changing of seasons. For the past ten years, I have been living in parts of the country that have great warm weather, but no change. I always knew that I missed it, but never realized how much until now. The daffodils are popping up everywhere, the cherry blossoms are blooming, the birds go crazy at the crack of dawn, and the grass is turning green again. I love the smell in the air- it’s fresh. My windows are open and I feel like I just woke up from a long sleep. I am shedding my big heavy coat and taking longer walks than normal. This changing of the seasons stuff...it’s heavenly.

I woke up this morning and realized that it’s not just the weather that has me thinking...it’s the seasons in my life changing. It’s fresh, it’s lively. I’m able to shed all of the crap that I’ve been wearing and enjoy this walk of life so much more. I feel this amazing freedom to be completely open- like I’ve just literally woken up. It’s been a hell of a long season in my life- 10 years nearly- of the same thing- the same heat. I forgot how incredible it is when the season finally changes. I feel like a new person- like I’m getting a fresh start. I can’t wait to see what this season brings. I’m ready for it.

This changing of the season stuff- it’s heavenly.

~ March 25, 2008

DOUBT

You know.
The little voice inside that says "no" when it should say "yes".
The hesitancy that makes you stand still when you should go.
The "yeah right" that speaks to your dreams and the "maybe" that steals your goals.
It stinks, but it stays even when you shew it away.
It whispers in your ear even when you speak in faith.
I guess it comes with our humanity- our weaknesses and our faults.
And although it seems small-
It is fatal
And if allowed to- it grows.

one more trip

I think that it would be safe to say that my car (lonely, lonely car) made at least 25+ trips from my old spot to my new one. Of course, these were trips that even made my car whine...they were loaded to the max. This move has been, hmmmm...torturous, to say the least. I have been fortunate enough to find a lovely little home in an even more lovely neighborhood. I am excited, BUT can I just tell you that I am struggling to make that last trip!!! It is just one trip...to clean out my garage. I have the truck until 11 this morning. It is 7:45 now and I just can't get myself to throw on some more nasty moving clothes and finish this deal. I am exhausted. Whine, whine, whine. I know. I suppose I could be finishing now. But, oh the thought of that trip. Someone please put me out of my misery.
Here's a thought to make you say "hmmm". My mom, in her attempt to offer me great advice concerning my problem of having no help to move, said I should call the Police Department. I know, it hurts me to even write it. The POLICE DEPARTMENT???? Okay, mom, call them and then say what? "Could one of you fine strong men please rescue me from these nasty boxes and dust bunnies?" "I'm scared, officer, could you please fight off this WORK for me?" I mean really now. I am still floored by this suggestion.
Obviously, I am wasting time. Exposing embarrassing family skeletons. I could say more...it would be less painful than this last trip I am about to make. It will be a dramatic one...you can count on that. I don't know how I will make my final exit, but it will be a good one. Memorable for sure.
All you Labor Day gluttons, enjoy your day. I will too, after one more trip.

~ September 4, 2006

amazing

Simply amazing. I just have to say that I am amazed at the ability we have, even when we don't know it, to cope...and not to simply cope, but to succeed and thrive. Sometimes our thriving is evidenced by incredibly beautiful moments and sometimes by just getting out of bed. For all of my dearest friends who opened their eyes this morning and it hurt...you are my heroes today. And for those of you who decided to roll with the punches that life just threw your way...you are stinkin' champions! I am SOOOOOOO blessed to have you as friends. Cheers to all of you who are more than just survivors.

~August 14, 2006

this too shall pass

In the middle of the storm, it seems the rain and winds will never cease. The dark clouds are so thick that to imagine a clear sky seems impossible. The only thing that reminds us of the storm ending is the last storm. We know from experience, that when the last storm clouds came through, they did not stay forever. It is our experience that reminds us that we will make it through. If we never saw a storm cloud, we would never realize that the clouds pass.

It makes me thankful for the storms I have had in my life. I have been through things that I felt would never leave. I have had those days when I could not see the light at the end of the tunnel. BUT I have always known, that somehow, the storm would pass. Today, I have been humming this song...okay, I'm lying...I have been belting it out at times..."This too shall pass...This too shall pass...This too shall pass...This TOO shall pass." Sometimes, this is the only hope we have to hold onto. The fact that this will pass. I am reminded of the Scripture that says we will not be given a temptation above what we are able to handle.

My first summer on my own in Florida was the summer that we were hit by multiple hurricanes. The first hurricane came through and I recall huddling in my closet with Chloe for 12 hours. We just slept and listened to the storm. There was no power. We had no phones. I was scared, but had no choice but to stick it out through the storm. When the winds stopped and the sun came out, I walked outside to find a completely different scene than when I had first huddled into my closet. Trees were down, cars were crushed, carports were on the lawn, shingles and parts of the roof were in the pool and debris was everywhere. You could barely walk through the driveway. As terrible as it was, I remember a sense of relief. A sense of confidence because I had weathered the storm. I made it through 3 more hurricanes that year- none as rough as the first. Or maybe...maybe it was because I knew I would make it through. I'm not sure.

That is how I feel now. I know that I have felt the fear before of thinking that I wouldn't be able to make it through my hard times. They seemed too great and too overwhelming. I also know that the older I get and the more experiences I am lucky to have, I grow in strength and confidence. Not because the storms are any easier, but because I KNOW that the storm will pass. I know that if I endure, I will be able to look back when the clouds clear and be thankful for the courage I had. Hard times are inevitable. They will come. They will beat us down and knock the wind out of our sail- time and time again. But no matter what happens or how long the storm stays, it will ALWAYS, ALWAYS pass.

crash

Whoa. This past weekend has been an absolute blur of social activities. I have enjoyed all of the fun with friends- the drinks, the laughs, the nights out, etc. But right now- all I can think about is my bed. I would love to write about the dates I've been on or the men in my life that I don't know what to do with. I'd also love to write about my dramatic week with a friend and how I have no idea what to do to mend the relationship. I would like to get my feelings on paper about where I am right now and what I hope for. All of these things, though, would take energy- and that, I do not have. So, for tonight, I will dream. I will rest and save my candid creativity for tomorrow.

today

Today is about happiness. Today is about taking life by the horns and directing it in the direction of my dreams. Today is about living and not holding back…about hoping and not being afraid. Today is about taking risks to achieve what I believe in. Just today. I can’t promise this same thing for tomorrow. The commitment is too great. But, if I can, for today, make this one thing happen…tomorrow will be better.

I know why the caged bird sings...

I was born to sing. My earliest childhood memories revolve around fake microphones and little stages...before I was potty-trained, I was singing my own tunes and sharing them with whoever would listen. Was this my destiny? No, I don't think so. It was my gift- my passion.

For the past few years, I have been longing for this part of my life. There was never a time that I could remember when music was not a part of my daily or weekly activity. However, for the past 7 years, music has been put away. When I moved to Florida, I allowed a series of events to stifle my gift. Funny enough, it doesn't even matter what those events were...I was so hurt by these that I quietly tucked my song away.

I am sitting here today remembering some of the most beautiful and passion-filled musical times in my life. Songs were written, songs were sung, songs were shared and were done so with ease, leadership, spirituality, vulnerability, and passion. I can remember the freedom in my voice as if it were only yesterday. Now, as I think honestly, I realize that these days were some of the hardest days of my life. These days were filled with pain and torment. I was going through some of the roughest terrain I had ever navigated and doing it at such a young age. I was stifled- my person, my heart, my dreams- were all dictated by someone else's selfish and mean ways. I was a good woman- I was faithful to the decisions I had made and kept every committment I made. Because of this, I was living in a prison of my own bad judgments.

This morning, as I woke up, craving music and sad that I have missed it for so long, I was reminded of Maya Angelou's "Caged Bird".

A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.

Today, I am no longer a bird caged to fear and torment. I no longer see freedom as a distant dream. I do believe, however, that those same songs that I once believed will inspire me to renew my passion. I do believe that somehow, this time in my life will live on through my songs. I do believe that my gift and its time are not over. I know why the caged bird sings...and that song is filled with passion and desperation. I also know that when that bird finds freedom- the song must be sweeter...

ridamdiculous

I just finished reading some blurbs on a political site. The most recent topic was concerning Obama and his family withdrawing their membership from Trinity church. Clearly, Obama had no choice but to do this. His hands have been tied by every little dig that Hilary or McCain have sent his way. Because he is a black man (well, half black half white- but who's counting?), he has had to fight an uphill battle. Okay- so, let him fight...he's done a damn good job. But back to the subject at hand...

Since when has any one ever given credence to what a church leader says from the pulpit? Out of the thousands of sermons that this man has preached, and dozens of others, the “venom” that he spat is the only thing noted. I am sure that he did not spend Sunday after Sunday encouraging families to stay together and exhorting this body to feed the poor. I am sure, like Jerry Falwell and Rod Parsley (who McCain was forced to denounce), he did not spend years of his life “fighting evil” and working for good. And why, again, does anyone care now? I thought this country worked hard to keep the church and the state as separates.
If we do, suddenly, care so much as to what a preacher says…perhaps we should inspect the gatherings of Mitt Romney’s circle of believers and the dozens of churches that other politicians sit in. What about Huckabee and his years of speaking from the pulpit? Is it a necessity now, for the majority to be of like-minded religious beliefs? Really? If you’ve ever been to church- you know that you will never agree with everything that is spoken. On any given Sunday, you will hear a bit of something that just may not sit right. Give me a break. Anyone who forces politicians to denounce or withdraw membership from a church- has never been to one. This is ridiculous.

History

After a day wrecked by inconveniences and setbacks, I am sitting here- with a glass of wine in hand- feeling sorry for myself. I am bummed about a handful of things- all of which I can do little about. In the middle of it, I have the news on in the background.

"Barack Obama becomes the first African American Presidential Nominee"

"Obama clinches the delegates necessary to take the nominee" and does this because of the new generation of voters...the future.

I have just finished listening to Barack Obama accept the democratic nomination for the presidential race for 2008. I am reminded that there is hope and possibility in this country. I am reminded that there is a generation...or two...that believes that we can change what we know to be true. I am reminded that there is a way to bridge the incredible divides that have held this country hostage to itself and its prejudice. I am reminded that ignorance does not rule and life can be better for our children. I am inspired and reminded. I am motivated and reminded. I am excited, as I am reminded that we are able to live our best life.

Letting Go

I was talking to a dear friend of mine tonight who is going through a divorce. For all intents and purposes, she has moved on. She is waiting for the finalities of the dissolution to take place and then she will be able to finally say it is over. The relationship was not a wonderful one- it was volatile and had severe ups and downs. There was a lack of trust that was felt from the beginning. Although, she can look back and assess the situation for what it is...and although she knows that this man is not good for her...she is sad.

It reminded me of the great process of letting go. Mourning is painful. It is so much easier for us to be angry or cold to these situations that hurt us. When we do this, though, it seems that we hold onto it all so much longer. Letting go requires a release...it requires not holding onto the pain and the burden that we become accustomed to carrying. It requires not only giving up the pain, but the hopes and the dreams that were so passionately invested. Honestly, it must be one of the most difficult things we can do as humans. It is a death within us. It is not easy, but when that release finally comes- there is freedom that comes with it.

I remember when it happened for me after my divorce. I hated that man. I hated him for so long for all that he had done to me. Yet, when I left, I found myself sad. I wasn't sad because I missed him or regretted the move I had made. I wasn't sad because I had hoped to have a future with him. I was sad because I had lost part of my hopes and dreams. I had disappointed my own expectations of what marriage would be for me. I was sad that I had failed at something that I never wanted to fail at. I was sad because I had never imagined that I would be divorced at such a young age. I was sad for me...not for him. And that sadness is hard to let go of. It was the death of something within me. When I found that release, I was able to grow. I was able to heal from all of the hurt that came with the years spent in my marriage. Today, I am stronger and wiser because of it.

When you're in it- it's hard to see. Today, for my girlfriend, I hope that she can mourn a part that she hasn't yet...so that she can move closer to her release. Because when that release comes- so does freedom.

Just Another Sunday

Several years ago, when writing was my closest companion, I penned out my feelings concerning Sunday’s, church, and my lack of going. It was filled with hurt and disdain for everything that went along with my idea of this body of believers. See, I grew up on a church pew. I spent my days playing church and my nights doing church. Sunday’s were not an option- Sunday school, church, youth group, bible study, special services, volunteer work and other activities. It wasn’t odd to me- that was just…Sunday…but all week long.

After my divorce, I left the place I had been worshipping and never heard from the church family. My husband was a pastor here and the idea that his wife would leave him was just too much for people to handle. No one bothered to ask and I, quite frankly, was so tired of the truth in my head- I had no desire to search people out to tell them. I figured that sooner or later, his truth…his life…would show itself to those around him. I didn’t care to bring him down…I knew him too well and was confident that he was his worst enemy.

Needless to say, no one ever cared to reach out to me. After giving my life to the ministry…after sitting outside of the judgmental walls of hypocrisy- even when it wasn’t convenient…after giving to others only because that is what I knew to do…I found that the reciprocation from my “brothers and sisters” was all but nonexistent. I received judgment and cruelty…period. I received back-biting from my friends and lies that circulated faster than the measles spread. I didn’t shed a tear over this rejection. I couldn’t let these people, who claimed to be touched by grace and mercy, affect my well-being or the great relief I felt in being free from this man who was my husband.

I say this to say…6 years ago…I stopped going to church. Not because I believed any less in God or His grace. Not because I believed less in the purpose of the church. But because I did not believe that the church could redeem itself and restore my belief in it. On any given Sunday, I would have told you that you would find safety and solace in this place. I would tell you that it didn’t matter where you had come from, what you believed, what you had done or hadn’t done, or where you planned on going…if you came here- you would find love…you would find renewed strength. I do not believe this anymore.

I went to church on occasion over the years- you know, the typical Easter or Christmas service. I would hear the word and would feel softened by it. But I just couldn’t bring myself to stay. Because of hurt and, as it grew, shame…I could not feel at home in the place that I had spent my entire life.

Now, I am in a new place in my life. I have left behind some pretty big pieces of my life. I have made some changes that were necessary in order for me to move forward. I told myself when I moved here that I would find a church. Or at least, I would look for one. I am still hesitant. I am not sure what I am waiting for. It’s only Monday now. But looking at the coming week…I don’t want just another Sunday. I want my faith restored.