It didn’t take long to become a failure.

At this point in my life I’m a pretty sarcastic person. I think I’m hilarious. Hysterical, even. A riot. See what I did there? I’m can also be seen as a cocky person, but it’s always sarcastically cocky. There are a few who think I’m sincerely cocky. A few who think I feel I’m better than most. There are a few who think I’m judgmental, probably because my sarcasm as viewed as something truthful instead of the joke it was intended to be.  Or maybe I do something else to offend them.  I really don’t know.

No matter what people are saying or thinking about me, it’s got nothing on what I feel for myself. We’re the hardest on ourselves, aren’t we?  If you’ve read my last post, you know how I’ve struggled with hatred toward myself.  I may not have said it explicitly, but the hatred was usually for me.  Even now, I find a lot of things about myself that I associate with failure. Like it’s just part of who I am – a failure. Continue reading “It didn’t take long to become a failure.”

Who I was is not who I am.

I want you to have an idea of where I come from mentally, so I’ll give you a (hopefully quick-ish) background on me.

Once Upon a Time……

JUST KIDDING. When I was younger I was pretty depressed.  I don’t know that it started off with a reason.  I was mad about my parents getting divorced, but really, so many people have divorced parents, and they didn’t all make the decisions I did.  I’m not saying it didn’t affect me, but I had a choice to make in it.  I chose to hate (for a while) my step-dad.  I don’t know that I’d call it easier (do you have any idea how much energy goes into actively hating or even despising someone??  A hint: a lot.), but it sure did give me an excuse to do and say the things I did.  I felt about the same for my step-mom.  I can’t even remember being mad at anything or anyone else that affected me except for guys.

I developed quicker than most girls in my grade, and boys picked up on that.  There were 3 instances that I can count were I was….violently pressured, sexually, with guys my age. That was in junior high. Continue reading “Who I was is not who I am.”

We don’t need to settle, so why have we?

*Editor’s note: This piece was written 4 years ago (2015), and while I still believe these things, I don’t feel they were represented or stated clearly. To be clear: We serve a sovereign God, a God who is capable of complete control, but who does not TAKE that complete control. He has given us free will, and we can (and detrimentally often do) choose to not allow Him in. When we become born again Christians, we give ourselves over to Him; we give Him the reigns and He will steer us. Without doing that, we aren’t allowing Him to move in us or through us. We cannot blame Him for every death, disease, hurt that comes our way when we won’t allow Him in. The death, disease, and hurt that are rampant in the world are because we live in a broken and dark world; a world that the devil roams and devours. Things happen because we either are or are not following His plans for us. In short, if we are not for God, walking with God and following after Him, we are going the opposite direction. If we aren’t for Him, it counts as against Him and we do not have His protection. At anytime, Christian or not, we can cry out and say, “God, I can’t do this anymore, I need you,” and He will come. But don’t demand separation and be surprised that He gives it. He waits for you. 

There is that devastating moment in life when someone close to you dies, or someone close to someone you’re close to dies.  It’s sad and it’s hard.  You know what doesn’t make it better?  Saying that it was God’s plan.  Saying that God ordained that death or that He needed another angel.  Saying that we can never understand God’s plan until we get to Heaven.  God does allow death, obviously. God does have a plan and it is perfect, obviously. God’s plan will always be better than any plan we come up with, obviously. We are not meant to understand His plans until Heaven, obviously.  However, knowing the obvious as truth doesn’t make those statements truth. Continue reading “We don’t need to settle, so why have we?”

Marriage is a work in progress.

Marriage is beautiful.  It’s rainbows and sunshine.  It’s simple.  It’s very cut and dry.  Getting married  automatically instills open communication in the two people getting married.  It causes the two people to be so changed as to become perfection in the relationship.  It’s angels singing and endless smiles.

I’m sorry.

Give me a minute.

Gotta control the laughter and catch my breath.

If these are lines anyone has every fed you, they are so very misguided.  Sure, those are all partial truths, but not complete truths.  Marriage is beautiful, but not for the reasons listed above.  Parts of it are simple (and cut and dry) but we are complex in nature, joining with another person is bound to be complex as well.  The open communication comes with hard work – a lot of hard work.  Marriage changes us, yes, but not always in the way that we think.  There are moments – so many moments – when it seems like everything is perfect and you swear you can hear angels singing, but those are moments to look for and try to attain.  They aren’t constant and they aren’t necessarily the norm. Continue reading “Marriage is a work in progress.”

Shades of something.

I’m sure that it wouldn’t take much for you to figure out what this post is about.  I mean, everyone and their brother has written about it; their brother, their brother’s friend, the friend’s cousin, the cousin’s sister, the sister’s mom – you get the picture.

In the interest of full disclosure I need to preface this by saying that I didn’t do any sort of in-depth research on the subject.  I have watched interviews with the author and cast of the movie.  I’ve read excerpts from the book and clips from the movie.  I’ve read articles for and against the books and movie(s).  I’ve talked to friends who both like and dislike the series.

What I see a lot of is people saying that it’s a love story.  A tale of two people who meet and fall so madly in love that it hurts to be apart.  How romantic it is to have these consensual relations that gratify a person (yes, that was meant to be singular).  An instance of a woman allowing this man to have a relationship in his brokenness – how brave, how courageous of her. Continue reading “Shades of something.”

What is love?

Yes, it was completely intentional that you read that blog title and immediately follow it up with singing to yourself, “baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me no more.”    While a horribly written sentence, the validity of it is maintained.  Then again, that was probably the point, right?  If you have no idea what I am referencing, I am torn between feeling both sad for you and envious of you.  I am a complex  person, but I’m a generous one:

You’re welcome.  Also, good luck getting that out of your head.

Now that you have that delightful little diddy playing in the background, let’s continue, shall we?  I was reading a blog post the other day by a favorite blogger of mine and she was talking about loving your neighbor.   Reading it got me thinking, do we do that enough?  Do we really do it at all?  Okay, maybe I should change those “we” words to “I.”  I know that I am pretty tolerant and accepting (even if I don’t agree with you, I try to give you respect and grace; and dare I say it, love) of people in general, but is that the same as loving? Continue reading “What is love?”

That Mom.

Today, friends, I was that mom.  I was the mom that went through the store while her toddler screamed.  My preschooler calmly sat next to her minding her business, playing on the Nexus (hey, don’t judge – at least that one wasn’t screaming, right?).  Me?  What was I doing?  I had one hand on her while I laughed.  I suppose to the unknown observer it may have seemed callous; some of those “unknown” observers let me know what they thought of that.  She wasn’t screaming the whole time – I even had her laughing – but she wavered between joy and pure freak out.  Yeah, you know the one.

Walking into the store was a trial, but you know what we decided?  We decided that getting food into our sparse pantry/fridge was more important than causing a scene.  Sure, we could have turned around and left one adult at home with the tyrant toddler, but who wants to take that bullet?  I didn’t, I’ll tell you that right now.  That was actually the reason that we were out as a family.  My husband and I kept leaving the other alone with the girls and the cart to go grab something that we “forgot.”  I am thinking now that it wasn’t an accident. Continue reading “That Mom.”

No vacations here.

My 4 year old is having her very first spring break.  At first I thought, “She’s 4, this time off from school won’t even phase her.”  Honestly, I didn’t really think she’d notice.  The unofficial day of spring break fell on a natural school free day – Friday.  I had been fantasizing about that day all week.  No waking up at 7 AM for a whole 10 days (turns out I wasn’t wrong there, it just didn’t happen the way I’d hoped), coffee can be had as soon as I get up and I’ll be able to drink it without interruption; it’s spring break – everyone, including the baby, is going to take the opportunity to sleep in and be well rested which will cause us all to relax and be nice and calm.  On top of that, we’re going to get along so well that my 4 YO and I won’t fight or argue.  She is just going to be so excited to be with me all day long that she will obey every rule and be perfectly behaved at every turn.  I see the irony in that statement when I think of the last blog post I wrote.  It’s not lost on me.

Turns out she did miss me.  Missed me so much that she had an overwhelming urge to creep into my room, tapping me on the forehead whispering “mom,” in that non-quiet preschooler voice, until I woke up.  “Mom, mom, MOM,” she loudly whispers.  “Is it time to wake up yet?”  I was disappointed at what I thought was being woken up at her typical 7:30; maybe it would take a couple of days to adjust to her sleep-in schedule.  Bleary-eyed I looked over at the clock on my phone and saw that it was 5:25 AM.  I’m sorry, 5:25 AM?  I just wanted to shout, “Do you know how beautiful sleep is?  How precious Spring Break is to school kids?  5:25???”  Instead, I held back that irritation and said, “What?  No!  It’s 5:25 in the morning!  Go back to sleep!  This is just-I-it’s too early!”  Okay, so maybe I didn’t hold back entirely, but c’mon! Continue reading “No vacations here.”