Untitled. . .for now

Tingling sensations
Commencing at the end of my toes
Proceeding to slide up my legs
And into my soul
Every time we share a word
Or two or fifty

Distracted frustration
Rises slowly in the back of my throat
Like cotton drying all the saliva
I can't let you in
I can't let you have any power
Because then I could lose control

Haunting dreams of what a touch
Could possibly be like
How it might make me fatefully weak
And I question if I should let you get that close
I want to risk that kind of joy, but fear the anguish
Of letting you have the ability to crush me

Pound me down
Disgrace me
Devalue me
Pummel my spirit
Abandon me

But you have done none of this
So how to forgive and let go
How to start over without the anxiousness
How to try again without negative expectation
How to open up wide to be shut down tight

On my knees in agony
Knowing that what I seek first
Cannot come from within
Or without
Only can come from being on my knees
Only can come from crying out to heaven
Only can come from being foolishly out of control

Patiently wait
Wait with stoicism
I long for the healing to free me to move on
And I wonder
Would he wait for me
Would he pray for me
Would he see me as a child
Would he truly want to know me

Only heaven knows

Alone, but not lonely

It has been some eight odd months since I've had a date. And, of course, I was the one who ended that relationship, so I suppose I can't complain about it much. He was an okay guy, but we didn't really fit well together on the really, really big points. We had lots in common, just not the stuff that makes for a long term relationship. So, with some fear of being alone again, I broke the relationship off to pursue a life that was balanced and healthier.

To be honest, there have been a few times when I have thought about calling him and meeting him for dinner. But wisdom (whatever misguided and mediocre amount I have been given) has always stopped me from doing it. Fortunately, we don't move in the same circles and there were few concrete remnants of the relationship. (No, girls, he never gave me any jewelry. . .and I threw away the card and stuffed animal from Valentine's day LOL!)

So, here it is. . .that time of year again. Valentine's Day is just around the corner, and I'm alone. And you know what? ! ? It's okay. Really, it is. I know that I may experience a moment of weakness as co-workers are getting roses and cards delivered, but I don't really need flowers or cards to make me feel good about myself.

And, I have been blessed with many wonderful friends, all across the country, and the world. Many of them are in similar positions as me, alone, but not lonely. This year, I am going to celebrate the love of my friends instead of dwelling on the lack of a romantic interest in my own life. And who knows, maybe this will be the best Valentine's day EVER!

True learning often isn't from a book

I wrote a paper several years ago for a college class about the diversification of classrooms from the traditional curriculum to an arts-integrated classroom. As I did the research, I was shocked to find that these classrooms, where art is implemented at every level, produced children who learned more, retained the information better, and decreased drop-out rates. While this kind of learning is not common place in our country's schools, perhaps it should be.

But that is not really the point of my blog today. Not directly, at least. I was just reflecting on the important lessons that I've learned in life. And I realized that the majority of the big lessons I've learned that have truly made me who I am did not happen in a formal classroom.

I took math throughout school, but the real lesson of money and arithmetic came when I had a checking account and limited funds. It came as I sat down and tried to figure out how to make the pittance I earn feed me and my children, provide shelter and clothing, a vehicle to drive, and insurance, etc. Now that was a math lesson! I do appreciate that without the years of math in formal classroom teaching I would never have been able to do this, but the actual task of "having" to do it to survive taught me the real lesson. Plan ahead. Don't borrow what you cannot repay. And never lend money you can't afford to lose. Those were the big lessons, and I don't remember a single teacher ever telling me these things.

On a less concrete level, I have learned about grace and forgiveness. I would venture to say that since I was raised in the church and attended Sunday School regularly for as long as I can remember, at some point, some well-meaning Sunday School teacher attempted to teach me the Golden Rule. I believe that many times, different pastors have spoken on forgiveness and grace. But it has been the times where I was pushed beyond my limits to give or receive these two things that really "taught" me about them.

My son had major surgery last week. He was born with bilateral cleft lip and palate. He has been a joy to me for as long as I can remember. And he has taught me so much about life.

He has taught me that life is not easy, but embrace it because it is yours. Go forward boldly, even when you know the road is tough--even when you can't understand just how tough it is. He has taught me that bravery is not learned. You just do it. You take another step, even when it sends deep stinging pain through your limbs. Even when you believe that you cannot ever do it again. You cry a little at times, but ultimately, you look at the options and choose what is best, even when it hurts.

Ultimately, I realize that school is very unimportant in who I am and who I will become. The things that shape me are the things that cannot be written or expressed in a textbook, or in an experiment, or in a recipe, or in a sheet of music. Life is our ultimate learning experience. And God is my guidance counselor. And my children still prove to be my best teachers.



To seek the answers without knowing where you may find them is the true research project of life.

Letting go

Sometimes when facing adversity, we are able to stop and look back at our lives and evaluate what has happened. We can stop and look at our mistakes, learn from them, analyze them and ourselved. We can stop to look and count our blessings, even those that initially we cursed. Sometimes the biggest blessings we receive are the ones that challenge us to look beyond the current moment and force us to grow. Painful? Yes, they often are. But those blessings disguised as pain, frustration, loss, or grief are the ones that cause us to become better people.

A song that has really ministered to me recently is by Plumb. It is called, "Better." It is written from the heart of one who is hurt, angry, or just facing something unpleasant. The writer cautions being pushed away because of fear. I can totally relate. But she ends with the message, that which breaks us makes us better. Isn't that so true?

I am currently in a moment where I know that the future is very much out of my control. I know that the coming days may bring joy, or pain, life, or death. And I know that no matter how much I wish I could see the future and predict what path I will be forced to take, I just CAN'T. And I personally hate the feeling of having absolutely NO control over what will happen. I often struggle with a feeling of lack of control. I'm not an admitted control freak, but like many other humans, I struggle when it feels like I have no control whatsoever over the circumstances that make up my life.

In this moment, I have but one choice. . .to wait patiently on the Lord. And to guard my heart and my mind lest I be drug down by the deceiver into believing that I should have all the control. And as I make that choice and fall into submission, I stop and remember all the provisions God has made for me in the past.

I remember how, as my marriage fell apart, God provided a home and mortgage for me and my children. I remember how, as I was struggling to find a good job and provide for my children, God placed people around me to fill in the gap. He placed angels beside me when I was weak and afraid and called them "friends".

I remember how, as I found myself broke, God provided help in the form of couseling to change my habits and eliminate debt. I remember how, as I dreaded Christmas, God blessed me with the kinds of presents that you don't ask for but are blessed to recieve. I remember how, as I struggled to find balance between work and raising kids, God surrounded me with people to fill in when I couldn't be there and others to reassure me of the job I was doing with my children.

I remember how, as I looked at my son's lifeless body, God placed His arms around me and whispered, "It is okay. I am here, and everything is going to be okay." I remember those things. And many, many more that I can't put into words here.

And I remember God's promises to me, "For I know the plans I have for you. . . plans for your welfare and not evil, to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11) And also, "For lo, I am with you always, even until the end of the age." (Matthew)

I don't know what tomorrow holds. And for now, I am glad that God has crashed my plans and taken control. This is what I know, His smallest thought for me is better than my grandest scheme of Him.

In this, I take solace and let go.

Searching for something witty or intellectual to say

I have been neglecting my blog. I admit it. But I am a mother, so sometimes (ok, most of the time) other things come first.

This week it was doctor appointments and speech therapy appointments. . .next week it will be surgery. Things that are more important just keep coming up and draining me of my creative juice and energy.

So for lack of something witty or funny or intellectual or thought-provoking, I will simply say, "I am here. I am glad that I have been blessed, and it is my prayer that I be used to bless others."

Have a great week, and I'll blog at you later!