Tag Archives: faith

Sweet like Sugga

19 Mar

When I was a little girl, I use to press my nose into the glass case that held the white skates and an assortment of multi-colored pompoms in the skate shop at our local rink. It was a loud, in-your-face kind of place, with psychedelic and fluorescent everything. In the dim lighting, everything glowed. It was magical to my nine-year-old 1980-something senses. I would dream and scheme about how I could make those beauties mine.

https://amzn.to/3yQwdk


The problem was, there was no way my family could afford them. I don’t even think I asked, to be honest. Kids just know those kinds of things even if they don’t understand the concept of a checkbook just yet. Inwardly, I knew I was lucky for the $1.50 entry fee to skate all day and drink from the water fountain. I don’t remember eating lunch and I don’t remember being hungry. That didn’t stop my heart from aching for those skates though.


As we turned the corner into 2023, I was doing some inner work. Setting goals for the year, reflecting on things from the prior year that I might need to clean up or clean out, and doing a little praying. For most of my life, I’ve had an issue with dreaming, with allowing myself to want things I can’t yet have. It comes up every year at Christmas when my husband has a never ending list of wants, and I have none. Maybe it’s because I’m a mom, or maybe it’s because of other things. As I sat in my favorite spot on my back porch, the sun warming my hair, I thought “Imma buy myself those skates I used to dream about!”…


That’s just what I did. Soon to be 48 years on the planet, and I’ve made my childhood dream come true. As a gift to my inner child, I decided this venture was going to fully embrace all the things 9-year-old me would want. My gear is purple, teal & pink. It makes me giggle every time I put it on. I look like a cotton candy explosion!

Muscle memory is a thing, but skating on four pink wheels is still much harder than I remember!


I’ve been practicing at my neighborhood pool parking lot in the afternoons, mainly on Saturdays. Last week I decided to go for a spin after work. I quickly realized it was also “after work” for my neighbors too. As they slowed to pass me, I saw more than a few chuckles. I have a sneaky suspicion that there may be a video or two floating somewhere out there. I won’t lie. After the first few, my ego popped up and started gnawing at my ears. I entertained those jabbing thoughts for a hot minute until I realized, I’m out here doing the thing…doing the thing that makes my inner child giggle.

I quickly decided that stopping wasn’t an option. So, what can I do about this?


She needs a name! 9-year-old me in a 48-year-old body needs a name.


I have a few alter egos that I slip on as needed when my confidence sways. It helps me get back in the game and reframe the “me” who is feeling all the things, to a new identity that is exactly what I need in that moment. I’ve used this coping mechanism for big presentations in front of a group of people when I get nervous. I’ll tell myself that I can sit down and stay comfortable. Sasha Fierce will take my place. She is calm and composed and Fierce, whereas I am not (in that moment).


I was recently discussing this need for a skating alter ego with a friend. She sent a text about a beautiful pair of skates she had in her Amazon cart. They are shiny, like a kaleidoscope mirror with light-up wheels. I can’t think of a better place to wear them than the Keys, where she is staying for the next few months. The Keys have their own fun, be your own person, anything goes, vibe going on. If you’ve been there, you know she will fit right in!

“ I need a roller derby name”, I told her.


She replied “Roller derby names are too vicious for you. You need something sunshiny!”

I let that simmer a bit. She is likely right.

I was tossing around the name “Jasmine” but it didn’t feel quite right, I told my husband as we were headed to dinner. I’m a cotton candy explosion out there I said with a laugh….

“Maybe I’ll go with Candy. CC for short: Cotton Candy.”

It fit and we both liked it.

On my way to the bank the very next day, I happen to be behind this license plate….I also have a weird obsession with vanity plates although I don’t own one (yet).

You can tell me it’s not a God moment. It’s just a coincidence.

But I won’t believe you.

My 9-year-old spirit said “YES!”. My 48-year-old eyes filled up with tears.

He knows our hearts.

He hears our dreams.

Friends, please don’t forget to dream, create, and believe in yourself. There are enough things in the world to hold you back, don’t let yourself be one of them. It doesn’t matter who is watching. You are beautifully created. A true masterpiece. Just the way you are.

And if you get a pair of skates, please also get a helmet! Those falls are brutal!

XoXo,

Lady Chats A Lot

Also known as Cotton Candy, Sasha Fierce, and a few others… but those are for another story. XoXo

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25 years

3 Jul

We met in high school, just two young, scrappy teens, with no direction. No plan. We were headed to McDonald’s for chicken nuggets and fries on a Friday night…. wasting time in a very small, cottage town.

1991 /2022

There wasn’t a lot for teens to do where we lived. We didn’t have a movie theater, or skating rink, or a mall. So, we’d talk for hours under the moonlight, sitting on the hood of his hatchback. Dreaming of where life would take us.

We soon found ourselves pregnant and confused…over the years, some have questioned how young we were…The truth is, we started our family before either of us graduated high school.

The road we were on was difficult and stressful. It was just too much for these two kids to navigate. By the time our son’s first birthday rolled around, we were learning to co-parent, albeit not well in the beginning.

1993, First birthday. Co-parenting

In three more years, we had the co-parenting thing down. We were very comfortable with the situation and with each other.

Like a gravitational pull, our souls kept drawing us to each other and we’d find ourselves (unsuccessfully) trying to push the other away again. Surprisingly, we somehow became best friends along the way.

After many late night conversations, we agreed to what we deemed as “our last chance”. With lots of heartache in our rearview, it didn’t make much sense to anyone around us.

Our friends and family warned against it. But we leaned in.

We lived in two different states. He packed up and headed my way (800 miles). I told him he could stay two weeks in my apartment until he found his own place. We would then “date” to see how it went.

He never moved out.

1997

People said two teens couldn’t really know what love is.

People said this was “puppy love”.

People said we had to give up our dreams if we wanted to keep our baby.

People said we should consider other options.

People said I was trash.

People said I’d never be able to finish high school.

People said I was ruining my life.

People said I was ruining his life.

People (A history teacher) said teenage moms can’t love their babies.

People said we’d end up divorced in five years.

Or with 15 children, broke and desolate.

People said we’d never make it.

People said we’d never be able to go to college.

People said we’d never have decent jobs.

People said we’d never amount to much.

People said there is no way we’d find lasting, long-term happiness.

People said ….

And we refused to listen.

This year we celebrate 25 years of marriage.

Deeply connected. We developed our own communication style through lots of therapy – together and alone. We know that the secret is to never stop growing, together. Our hands and hearts are intertwined in love, in sickness, in health, in poverty, and in wealth. God-loving, college-educated, multiple home-owning, empty nesters of two healthy, well-rounded, fantastic young men. Grandparents to two adorable, spunky, set the world on fire, littles. Travelers, adventure-seeking, joy finders, soul mates with a desire to see as much as we can, dream as big as we can, and live our lives out loud.

It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone.

Forge your own path. Your life is the only one you’ve been gifted. The only one you’ll get.

Live without regrets.

We have crafted a damn good life. It’s one that I’m proud of.

25 years down, 100 to go.

I've always been drawn to crooked paths, likely because mine has been a bit off-center too.
Picture from a random stop on a road trip. I’ve always been drawn to crooked paths, likely because mine has been a bit off-center too.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry I could not travel both….I took the one less traveled and it has made all the difference.” – Robert Frost

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It is real…

17 Apr

A few years ago, we spent 10 days touring Israel with our church group. It was an amazing, life changing experience. I’ve been a Christian as long as I can remember. Surrendering my spirit with every alter call, more times than I could count, until I learned that you only needed to do it once.

I tell you this because I have always been a believer. I don’t have all the answers and I can’t quote every scripture at the right time, but I’ve always believed in a God that is greater than I. I’ve witnessed “only God” moments and have seen Him work things out in my own life that seem unexplainable. I also know that bad things happen to good people and I don’t know why. I can’t explain it beyond the fact that sin is in the world. I know one day I’ll crawl up on God’s lap and ask him all about the things I don’t understand. Until then, I hold my faith tightly in a world where it seems so easy to just let it go.

The trip to Israel was a whirlwind. I intended to journal every night…and I failed most nights as I fell into bed exhausted and a bit overwhelmed. Several times during the trip, my husband and looked at each other and said “This is real. The Bible is REAL.”

I’m not sure what we expected. Neither one of us can really answer that question in hindsight. Maybe we thought we’d see artifacts in a museum….or stories in front buildings where your imagination had to be sparked to see what was there so many years ago. Maybe we thought it would be a bit like Disney…over commercialized.

What we saw though were the actual buildings and landmarks described in the Bible. Still standing…still exactly as described.

Skull Mountain (Golgotha) from my camera
From a google search

The garden tomb is nearly at the feet of Golgotha.

John 19:41: “At the place where Jesus is crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb, in which no one had been laid.”
My husband and I near a mock stone that would have been rolled in front of the tomb at the Garden.

In addition to these landmarks, we saw the Temple Mount, the pool of Bethesda, The Garden of Gethsemane, The Mount of Olives, Herod’s palace (it was indeed a palace)…and so much more. We sat on the steps where Jesus would have walked to access the temple…this stuff is real. It’s real…and it’s still there for you to see too.

If I can touch it, walk on it, see it…it’s not a hard leap to believe the rest of the Bible is real too. I’ve always been a believer but this trip cemented faith into my soul and grounded me there. It is real. He has risen!

Happy Easter friends!

Love

Lady Chats A lot.

XoXo

The entrance to the Garden of Gethsemane
The Garden of Gethsemane with olive trees.

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Not Hard

27 Feb

“For we are God’s masterpiece.” Ephesians 2:10, NLT

Kevin and I were working the side door at church today. It’s something we like to do at least once a month, sometimes more. For some reason, around midweek I felt a strong pull to volunteer. My soul has been exceptionally tired with normal life stuff: work, kids, grandkids…and not normal life stuff: covid and the real potential for war… I often find just what I need to refuel at Cathedral and it helps me get through the week ahead. So after discussing with Kev, I signed us up.

We assumed our position, chatted with friends, said hello to a few acquaintances, and welcomed in tired mommas and daddies by the handfuls.  One of our favorite things to do while working the door is to toss out compliments like confetti and watch the smiles spread across faces.

Right before service started, three young ladies and an older gentleman stopped by our door to chat. The young (teen) ladies reminded me of myself in 1987…ripped jeans, fishnets, heavily rimmed eyeliner, blue hair, and nervous energy. In all honesty, they are probably way cooler than I was in 1987. I didn’t have blue hair, but I wanted it! My combat boot loving soul longed for a pair of hand-shredded jeans and a concert tee at that exact moment… as I stood there in my dress pants and heels. I was unsure of the relationship between the man and the girls, but what was clear is that he wanted them to have a good experience. We chatted some more about where to sit, and they chose the balcony. I watched as they found their seats. Waving to them as they got comfortable and saying a little prayer that the message would be one that landed on their hearts.

As Pastor Megan took the stage in her own ripped jeans and heeled work boots, I knew these girls were in luck. We’ve been attending Cathedral of Praise for twelve years. Watching Megan on stage, being completely who she is, in heels and glitter, or ripped jeans and sweatshirts, or in blouses and beautiful clothes, has made me more comfortable in my own skin.

The message was on relationships. 

“You need people and people need you.”

As Pastor Megan dove into the reasons why we ALL need healthy, rooted relationships she paused. Taking a purposeful timeout, she said

“You are NOT hard to love.  You are just…the…way… God made you.  You are easy to love. You have to find your people. People who love you the way you are. You are NOT hard to love.”

My eyes welled up…it was just what my 1987 soul needed to hear and what my 2022 soul knows very well.

My hope is that it also spoke life into the young ladies’ hearts.   I glanced to the balcony to see their beautiful faces.  The older man tilted his head to the heavens. Maybe he needed to hear it too.  Maybe he was thanking God for the same reason I was…. answered prayer.

Love,

Lady Chats A Lot

XoXo

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Love well

9 Oct

I caught myself breathing deeply and letting out a sigh, more than a few times this morning. I heard my husband do the same. Today will be difficult.

In an attempt to clear the anxiety thumping between my ears and running down my neck, I laced up my sneakers and headed outside . Just a few minutes in, my feet glide over this leaf. Turning around to look closer, I snapped the photo.

I whispered a thank you to God for reminding me, he is here too. In the little places. In the big places. In the need to escape places.

We are headed to the funeral of a good, good man. One who loved well, and who was loved well.

We’ve already stuffed our pockets with tissue. We’ve already blinked back the tears …so many times. We won’t be able to contain them much longer. We know this.

Today we will love on his family. The heartbroken. Those left behind with no answers, but with great faith. They hold tight to belief that they will reunite with him again on the streets of Heaven.

Light rain has begun to fall. The skies are gray and cloudy. It’s as if the earth knows… and is mourning with us.

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” ~ Psalms 34:18

Love well,

Lady Chats a lot

Xoxo

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Be the light

29 Aug

Come sit down and let me tell you a story. 

A few months ago, a friend who I highly respect and admire, sent me a text as I was boarding a return flight from a week of business in Florida. It had been an exhausting week of late hours and hard work. My brain was mush, over taxed and over processed.  My limbs hung heavily to my side, longing to be home, in my own bed, with my own family.  Do you ever have those days when you are just pushing to the finish line?  I was literally calculating how many hours it would take until I could pull into my driveway.

I flipped open his text and began to read.  His business was growing, and he was looking to add an employee to help manage the operations.  He was willing to train and was actually looking for someone that may not currently hold the skill set, but would be able to learn.  Helping people makes my spirit smile broadly and fulfills something inside of me that I cannot put into words. When I see a need, I try to fill it.  However, in this case, I just couldn’t think of anyone who was in the market for a new position.  Admittedly though, I couldn’t think. My brain was in the process of a forced shut down. 

I sent him a return text saying I would send it out to my friend groups and see if anyone was interested.   

Then I boarded the plane, put my book bag under my seat, and pulled out my phone to begin my nightly ritual of scanning Facebook…Facebook is like the adult version of show and tell. It’s mindless and frankly, I just enjoy it. I likely spend way to much time on it but I find it relaxing.  (Judge me if you’d like.)

In what I could only describe as a full on tug on my spirit, I thought “Maybe you should post that job to the Israel page.” ….We had just come back from a trip of a life time to Israel a few weeks prior. There were about 45 of us on the trip organized by our church. The group had bonded through our travels and they created a Facebook group to share thoughts and pictures.

I jumped over to the Israel page….then thought, “No. That’s weird.” No one in that group is looking for a job!

I resumed scanning my timeline while watching the plane fill.  Scan. Scan…then a repeating message, “You should post that job to the Israel page.”

Okay I thought.  Whatever. I typed out this message:

“Not sure this is the right place to post, but I thought someone may be looking for a job.”

Then my nerves and ego rose up. I said – “This is ridiculous. They are a group of professionals and retirees. They have jobs or don’t want jobs. They are going to think YOU are ridiculous posting this here. This is the ISRAEL group page – not the FIND A JOB page.”

And I deleted it. 

Sighed and went back to my Facebook time line.

By now the flight attendant was giving her safety speech. While I’ve heard it so many times I could likely be a stand in, and do it off the cuff, I do think it’s rude to not listen. I glanced up and gave it my best effort to pay attention…within seconds, the same thought came back around “You should post that job on the Israel page.”

UUUGGGH

“Fine. Fine. I will post it God. I will post it and I will look ridiculous. But I will post it.”  

I typed it out frantically, included a print screen of my friend’s text, and posted to the Israel page just as the wheels of the plane were leaving the tarmac.  “There. It’s done.” I sighed, shaking my head from side to side.  

Truly when I tell you, this bothered me so much. The next morning when I was catching up with my husband, I relayed the whole story – the text, the tug on my spirit – not once but three times, and how I felt incredibly silly in this new group of friends… that I didn’t really know well enough….

But at the end of the day, I clearly felt called to post.   So whatevvvverrr…. I suppose I’ve looked ridiculous before. I wouldn’t spontaneously combust if I did again.

I checked the group page several times over the next few days…nothing. Not a single confirmation (like). Not a single comment.  My ego said, “See. Told you. Ridiculous.”

After a few days, my friend sent me another text. “How do you know CM?”

“CM? She went on our Israel trip and she goes to our church. Why?"
 (My mind had not put the coincidence together yet.)

“She applied for the job. Is she good?” He said.

I couldn’t believe it. Someone from the Israel trip applied!! I checked the post again – nothing. Okay….maybe she didn’t want me to know??

I decided to reach out through messenger – and it’s there that I see she sent me a message the day before…She was in the market for a full time job and this one sounded like something she could sink her teeth in.  For whatever reason, I never received the message notification… 

This story turns out magically. She interviews and of course they love her. No doubt they can see how intelligent she is, right off the bat. It was a win-win for both parties. She has been working there since March and by all reports, she loves her job! We recently had a conversation about it, and I couldn’t help but get teary.  I get teary every time I think about it because I know how much I argued with the prompting and to see it all work out…it’s just beautiful.

It serves as a reminder (to me) that God often has bigger plans for us than we could ever imagine. His ways are not our ways…and sometimes, we can’t see how the pieces to the puzzle are coming together – until they do. When life doesn’t look picture perfect (hello Covid), I lean on memories like this and know He has me (and you) in his hands.    

I’m committed to listening, to learning, to action, when my spirit feels those tugs. I don’t always get it right. But I keep trying….. What I whole heartily believe is that God uses people.

He uses people.

Be the light.

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Shutting down the world

21 Mar

Sometimes I dabble at writing a blog. Frankly, if you follow me, it’s been a minute… I honestly don’t pick the topics. They roll around on my heart and stay on repeat in my mind until the only way I can get them out is to put them on paper. That is the case with the writing below. I am not a super Christian, nor do I play one on t.v..

The world is a crazy place right now. Legit, crazy. We are living in unprecedented times. No one really knows what they are doing… What we should be doing….I find it difficult to follow those in leadership because while we are supposed to be “flatting the curve” we have no way of really knowing if it is working due to the lack of tests available… In a matter of just a few weeks, we’ve seen huge layoffs, school closures and a shortage of toilet paper. If you would have told me at the start of 2020 that a virus would shut down the world, I would have thought that was an impossibility. Yet here we are in the middle of a pandemic, and the Corona Virus is doing just that – shutting down the world.

It’s a scary time, no doubt. Worry and anxiety are at it’s peak. (At least it feels like it is at it’s peak – but let the chicken nuggets my kids eat run out at the grocery and I’m at a whole new level of anxiety!)

To deal with it all, I find myself diving deeper into prayer, into scripture, into places that I can latch on to other Christians to find hope before the curtain of darkness (which feels all to close) falls around us.

In my quest, I landed on a video where our church worship leader said something that just resonated deep within me. He said something to the effect of “We are all social distancing to keep the virus at bay. But social distancing is just unhuman.”

WOW!!! 

Yes….as Christians we are taught that we are created for relationship. Wayyyyy back in Genesis 2:18 we read  “The Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him” (NIV). We were not meant to be alone. Men, certainly were not meant to be alone. (I kid, I kid…)

Quote

Here is where I know I’ll lose some of you…but stay with me, ok!

Say what you will but I believe in the spiritual battle between good and evil. I know there will be some people rolling their eyes at this point, and maybe you’ll even stop reading. I get it.

I didn’t always know about this spiritual battle nor did I believe in it. But it is actually in scripture. “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of the evil in the heavenly realms. (Ephesians 6:10.12, NIV)

Could it be then that this virus is a spiritual attack meant to divide our relationships? To cause distance between “them” and “us”? I’m not disputing that this is a REAL virus. I’m saying, could there be more to it? If you believe in scripture, this is not to much of a stretch.

So what do we do? How can we prevent the darkness from taking hold, from gaining ground?

1)  Spend time with the Lord. Let him lead you; calm you. My prayer is that you hear his voice. Dive deep into your Bible. There are so many resources out there if you are not a reader or find the Bible difficult to navigate. (I was there too – a good study Bible is everything!) I love watching Joyce Meyer, or Pastor TD Jakes. Find something that brings you closer to God. Pray on your walks around your neighborhood. Look for his beauty – and you will find it. Those are some of my sweetest moments….when I’m just walking outside, looking for something good – and God sends a special moment or ah-ha thought. Try it.

2) Be kind. Look for ways to help others. Don’t allow ‘me versus them’ mentality to take root. During a crisis, we will see the worst and the best of humanity. Be part of the best. If you have a few extra bucks, donate to a blessing box or food pantry. Offer to pick up groceries for someone who is high risk. Protect yourself but do what you can.

3) Spend time with your family. The ones that live in your house. Call or face time the people who don’t! Stay connected! Don’t let this time in quarantine be sucked up with hours of social media scrolling!

My grand-precious and I have a routine that she calls “relaxing”. It’s where I decide I’ve had enough of the day – and I go upstairs to the quiet of my room. I turn on the tv or read, but essentially all of my mom, work, and wife duties are over. I’ve clocked out. At some point during her five years on the planet, she has decided that she should join me in “relaxing”. This means that I’m not officially off the clock, but it does provide one-on-one time with my girl, and that is not lost on me.

Last night I said, “I think I’m going upstairs.” Her green eyes widened, and she said “I want to go with you! To relax! I can relax with you!”

Of course I said okay and before long she was snuggled under the covers with me on her Poppa’s side of the bed. She loves to learn (a child after my own heart), and we buy her these big learning books. She already sailed through the K5 book so we are onto the first grade book. This makes her sit up a little taller, as she says, “I can do first grade, Gigi!”. We get started on the first few pages, with me reading the directions and her doing the work. She has her blue crayon in her right hand, and she is giving it her all. Sounding out the letters “kkk aaa ttt …Cat!” and learning new words. At some point, ten-ish minutes or so in to “relaxing”, and she purrs, “I looove you Gigi”.

WorkThat’s it. That’s all it took to fill up my heart and wash away the day. We are created for relationship. We need it. I need it. Baby girl needs it. Hold on to your people and to God during this crazy time.

Join me in prayer:

Dear Lord,
I don’t even know how to deal with this Corona Virus. I don’t understand its presence in our world. What I do know is that you are not caught by surprise. Lord, help us through this. Strengthen our hearts and our immune systems as we put on the

“full armor of God…standing firm…with the readiness that comes form the gospel of peace.” We “take up the shield of faith..to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one”…and we carry ”the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” (Ephesians 6:13-17).

Just like you did Lord during Passover this very time of year so long ago, please allow the virus to pass over this house. Over our friend’s and family’s houses. For you are not a God of favorites. If you’ve done it once before, you will do it again. Lord I ask for your peace that surpasses all understanding. I pray for your guidance, your protection and your wisdom during this trying time.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen

xoxo – Lady Chats A Lot 

 

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Caution: curves ahead

22 Mar

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This week I watched a recent video of myself that I made with my son.  I was shocked  at the image I saw reflecting back at me. I’ve had a rough couple of years with some things …and apparently, I am an emotional eater….or possibly an emotional drinker… maybe…I’ve found a fondness for red wine and it found a roomy home on my hips.

Over the last few months, I began moving the clothes that no longer fit to the left side of my closet. I’m still flabbergasted  when I’m unable to pull up the pants I’ve worn for the last 10+ years past my thighs….The pile on the left of the closet  is large.

This means I’ve also had to  purchased new pants – begrudgingly. My collection is minimal in comparison. It was either that or go naked… I had no choice in the matter. Yes, leggings work well and are cheap…but they hide the fact that I appear to be growing – out, not up. At this point, my ass could qualify for it’s own zip code…

So, I’m watching this video thinking – How in the world?  Really.  How did I let myself gain 30 pounds? When I look in the mirror I know I’m bigger…but this video.  Lord, please promise me that the camera adds 10 pounds…that I really don’t look that way in REAL life.

But the truth is I’m now heavier than when I delivered both of my children.  I know I’m teetering on the verge of no return….and I don’t know what to do about it.  Don’t get me wrong. I know there are many women larger than myself. This isn’t about them. THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL. This is about me feeling good, or not, in my own five-foot-five-and-half skin.

This is how my day starts:  I try on a new black skirt that arrived yesterday.  To tight.  I contemplated keeping it for “when I lose the weight” but more than slightly depressed at the likely hood of that NOT happening, I tossed the skirt on the bed to return later.

I then selected white slacks that I knew were a size or two larger. They fit, but the view from behind was not so cute….On went the Spanx – boy shorts.  Spanx, the well-known by ladies around the world (but rarely seen by men) undergarments that are made to make me look skinner.  Yet, I some how now feel like a sausage.  A bratwurst to be specific…But damn it to heck, I have to go with this outfit because I’ve already worn the other two pants that fit me this week.  Tomorrow it’s jeans….

I tossed on a cute shirt from a local boutique that I haven’t worn since last summer. It was a little snug across the chest but nothing terrible I thought…However, the more I moved my flat iron across my hair, I realized it was too constricting.  I no longer liked it.  Crossing my arms at my waist to lift the fabric….I find I can’t. I was stuck. I couldn’t get this damn shirt off my body.  I twisted, I tried….I grunted…I thought, “Imma have to cut this bitch off.”…For a second I contemplated running downstairs to wake up one of my children to help me pull this sucker off….I’m not sure I’d live that one down…EVVAHH… Five minutes and a few tears later, I wiggled out of  shirt looking like I’d been on a subway fight. Red in the face, hair a mess…

I promptly moved it to the left side of my closet.  My first thought?

You know you are fat when you get stuck in your freakin’ shirt. What the hell…

On to work. As I’m walking up the sidewalk I say a little prayer.  “Lord, I don’t like this. I don’t like how I feel about me. You love me and have helped me in so many ways.  Help me to lose this weight.”

Fast forward through my day.

I’m in the ladies room where a coworker asks How I’m doing. “busy. good.” I say.    I tell her she looks beautiful today.  She shrugs, not believing my words, her eyes drifting away from me.  Then she says, “You look good too. How did you gain your weight? Eating too much.”

Yessssss. She said those words.

Before you get riled up and ready to kick ass, please hear her story.

She is from South America. She LOVES curves.  Which until her recent weight loss, she had — curves for dayyyys!  She tells me, almost too eagerly, she can’t wait until she can put on some pounds.  She is serious…This I know.

I tell her I’ll shift her some of mine – If only it were that easy!   She then says with a large grin and wiggling eyebrows,  “I bet your husband is happy” as she points to my zip code carrying ass….

She is losing weight not because she wants to friends, but because of the chemo.  You see, she has breast cancer.  She wears a scarf to cover the hair loss which makes her self-conscious.  She has a hard time looking me in the eyes,  really – looking anyone in the eyes, these days.  Yet, I think she looks more beautiful than in any day prior.  Her warrior spirit is shining.  She is fighting and it shows. Without the distraction of her hair, which was indeed gorgeous, her eyes become the focal point, dancing in the light.  She is simply stunning.

I get back to my desk and think, “You know your fat when…”

Then I stop.  I close my eyes….I sense God’s hand…and I pray.

I thank God that I’m healthy.  Specifically, I thank him for my cancer free body.  With embarrassment, I apologize for believing anything different. A few extra pounds is nothing in comparison. I thank him for this lesson, for humbling my spirit.  I know I have some work to do…and I will.

Ladies, would you please join me in shifting our focus away from who we want to be and allow ourselves permission to be who we are?  Let’s not put our self-worth in our hair, our bodies, our curves – or lack of…

PS – If no one told you today, let me have the honor of doing so.  I love you. You are beautiful.

Put that on repeat.

Perspective.

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Don’t poke the bear

16 Nov

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I remember watching my younger cousins bouncing around the den. Their laughter piercing the ears of my grandfather as he silently sat in his chair, his lips forming a straight line. My gram hunched over the coffee table, lost in her own thought, searching for letters to fill the boxes of the daily crossword puzzler, as she would say, a grin of known cleverness spreading across her face. They were watching the People’s Court, Judge Wapner presiding, a daily six o’clock ritual.

Rolling on the floor, and throwing pillows. I watched the agitation wash over my grandpa’s face, his body. Twisting in his chair, willing my cousins to silence with the narrowing of his eyes until they were nothing more than slits. His jaw hardening with increasing speed….and yet no one else seemed to notice.

I could see the eruption forming. His feet near the edge of a cliff. I darted up the steps, hiding in my Gram’s bedroom turning up the t.v..

My cousins would soon follow, a wash of tears and embarrassment, the intense tongue lashing leaving their heart bruised.

I knew better than to poke the bear. In all my years, I don’t remember him ever exploding on me.

I would venture to say by the age of eight or nine, I had already become very adept at reading people and situations. The river of alcoholism and dysfunction running deep and wide in my lineage. Learning to alter my behavior to fill the box that would offer the most protection was necessary to avoid  the land mines hidden beneath the surface.

On one hand this skill has served me very well, catapulting a career and opening doors. However, it is also a double edged sword, whittling away the wholeness of who I once was, trying to morph into a space that is not mine to fill.

As a child it was essential. As an adult it is exhausting.

Round peg, square hole.

Tight and uncomfortable. Claustrophobia searing through my veins as the walls creep in a little closer, another piece of myself falling away. My inner voice screaming to get out. She knows she was created for more. She does not belong here.

Fueled by faith, and little else, I trudge through the muck of confusion. Footsteps heavy, deliberate, requiring  more energy than normal to place one in front of the other. Bending to pick up the pieces of my former self, haphazardly strewn throughout the path I’m walking. I hold each in my palm, examining closely under the microscope of recovery. Knowing they will never form the same puzzle  they once did, they are nonetheless valuable. Tarnished, I brushed away the lose dirt and slide them into my pocket.  I inch forward. Slow but diligent.

I could say I don’t know how I got here.  Truth is, I do.

I know better than to poke the bear.

Unwilling to stay in the box.

Feet on the edge of the cliff.

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Into the Light

11 Oct

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Because life isn’t always sunshine and puppy dog tails….and it is OKAY to bring that part of you to the table too. Pull up a chair and have conversation with it….and about it.

Surely we’ve learned by now that life is to short to hide behind the curtain of perfection. Keeping you trapped with the illusion of control, it is nourished by fear.  Movements limited by the box you’ve constructed around you. Each layer of protection adding a brick to the pile, building until it towers over you,  impairing your vision… and ability to see the future. When hope retreats, the shadows slithers in.

Shining a light on the pieces I’d rather hide leaves me vulnerable. Yes.

It allows space for judgment. Yes.

But where there is light, darkness must flee.

I fight the demon of depression with all my might. Tremendously thankful that he rarely wins these days. However, it isn’t for lack of trying on his part. Like an old boyfriend who thinks there is a snowball’s chance that the love will rekindle, he shows up regularly at the gate holding roses and calling my name.

“Aren’t you tired? Sick and tired? Come rest in my arms.”  he whispers

Tossing a small wave as I walk by the pen that contains him, I smile internally.  Smirking because today I have the upper hand.  He doesn’t know just how blessed I am.  Don’t misunderstand, he isn’t interested in hearing. Unreasonable and manipulative, he is.  He disputes my truth, throwing daggers into my picture perfect memory.  But today I move like a ninja, avoiding his taunts with quickness and agility. My bouncy step flippant to his gestures. His words rolling off my shoulders, crashing on the cement beneath my feet, my ears muffle the sounds.

Admittedly, though,  there are times I get a little to close to the fence. Mesmerized by the reflection of self pity, he pulls me in. His breath swirling into mine. Brushing the hair out of my eyes he requests a dissertation of all the wrongs. His arms around my shoulders, pulling me closer as I melt into him. Buying me drinks while we talk, he piles each ill on top of the other. Stacking like a game of Jenga. Trusting him now, I mouth the last crime against my heart. Before the sentence completes,  the ills tumble to the ground, embarrassing me with erupting  sound of shattering glass in an otherwise quiet room. Heads turning quickly in my direction  to see the mess I’ve made. It is public humiliation.   Knowing my weaknesses, he pushes my emotions to the top until they over flow, spilling out in the form of tears.

He is no friend of mine.

Yet my feet do not move. Stuck as he dives deeper into my pain exposing wounds that have yet to heal.  I’m paralyzed in the darkness.  Weak from  being in the pit to long, the lack of sunshine and food. I use the last remaining scraps of energy I can muster to rally the truths of Faith.  I lean into the scripture they speak, allowing it to form a shield against my body. Limp from exhaustion, their wings carry me to the safety of the sidelines… and I rest.

Breathing in God’s grace until my lungs are full,  I rise stronger than the time before.  Bones mended, heart healing by the freshly oxygenated blood in my veins. Vowing to never return to this cottage of despair, I stand to brush the dirt from my backside, shaking lose the excess. My legs still wobbly, I walk towards the sun. It’s light eclipsing the mess I’m leaving behind.

Desperate  for more control over the curves thrown my direction. I recant the words softly spoken over me in battle.

 Choose Life. Choose Happiness.

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One of my favorite songs that help me walk into the sun: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzGAYNKDyIU

Redeemed by Big Daddy Weave

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