Trust, faith, belief, security...this concept has to be one of the biggest struggles in life...at least for me, it is. I am the queen of "second guessing". I believe I am following God's leading in life and then the first time there is even the hint of a problem, I start second guessing. Was I really listening? Was I just following what I wanted to do? Did I make the wrong choice?
I read something this morning that was like a "refrigerator" moment. (You know, when the kitchen is totally dark in the middle of the night and you open the refrigerator and suddenly everything is visible.) "Trusting God doesn't alter our circumstances. Perfect trust in Him changes us."
This is an issue that I've been thinking a lot about lately. Following God, trusting Him, having faith...really isn't EVER easy. I was really reminded of this last Sunday at church. Scott (our soon-to-be-former pastor) and his family are following God's leading. He has led them to leave the church and people they love and head off to another church. Scott has faith and believes that He is following God's leading...but it's obvious that this has not been an easy decision for anyone. There is a lot of heart break and pain. It's never easy leaving those you love and a place where you are comfortable. It would probably be easier for them to stay comfortably right where they are. But, that's not what God has in mind for any of us.
He doesn't always give us "easy". The key is (for me anyway) to realize that just because I have faith in God doesn't mean my life is suddenly going to get easier. However, because I have faith in God, my attitude towards the tough times should be different. I have to realize that these times are a time for me to grow and learn...and because of the changes in ME, I can still trust God and the plans He has for me.
Have a great day!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Painting
What made me think I could paint 4 rooms in 3 days? So far, I have painted 1 room in 4 days. I think I'm doing something wrong.
The one room that is done (my bedroom) looks good. I finished it up and then put the room together. I have pictures on the wall and decor out and about. I'd be proud of that, except for the fact that we moved in here 6 months ago.
Zack thinks I'm crazy. After all, this house goes on the "market" tomorrow. But, I'm trying to help out the landlords. They have been really good to us...letting us move in without a deposit, not getting mad if the rent is late, etc. I'm trying to make it look "home-y" so that it will sell faster.
However, if it does sell fast, I'm in trouble. That means we have to move. I know that a move is coming...as a matter of fact, I'm looking forward to it. However, moving means that I need money and when you live pay check to pay check, it's not like there is a large bundle of money sitting there waiting for first, last and deposit.
Anyway, back to painting...I'm painting off-white (almost tan) walls white. That shouldn't be so hard. The walls and ceilings are stucco. I got the whole room painted, stepped back to admire my work, and what did I see...spotted walls. And WHY does it always look so easy on those home improvement shows? They pick up a roller, give it a couple swipes and TA-DA the room is miraculously a new color.
I also have learned that there is a correlation between the word paint and pain. I try to forget that I am getting older. My shoulders are telling me something else.
Enough avoidance therapy...I'm going to go try to get another wall done before we leave for church.
The one room that is done (my bedroom) looks good. I finished it up and then put the room together. I have pictures on the wall and decor out and about. I'd be proud of that, except for the fact that we moved in here 6 months ago.
Zack thinks I'm crazy. After all, this house goes on the "market" tomorrow. But, I'm trying to help out the landlords. They have been really good to us...letting us move in without a deposit, not getting mad if the rent is late, etc. I'm trying to make it look "home-y" so that it will sell faster.
However, if it does sell fast, I'm in trouble. That means we have to move. I know that a move is coming...as a matter of fact, I'm looking forward to it. However, moving means that I need money and when you live pay check to pay check, it's not like there is a large bundle of money sitting there waiting for first, last and deposit.
Anyway, back to painting...I'm painting off-white (almost tan) walls white. That shouldn't be so hard. The walls and ceilings are stucco. I got the whole room painted, stepped back to admire my work, and what did I see...spotted walls. And WHY does it always look so easy on those home improvement shows? They pick up a roller, give it a couple swipes and TA-DA the room is miraculously a new color.
I also have learned that there is a correlation between the word paint and pain. I try to forget that I am getting older. My shoulders are telling me something else.
Enough avoidance therapy...I'm going to go try to get another wall done before we leave for church.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Self Improvement
We spend much of our lives working on "self improvement". That's not a bad thing. My Dad always said, "even a barn needs a fresh coat of paint once in a while".
Physically is where I have issues. I don't seem to do well when it comes to physical self improvement. I remember when I got to college and one of my friends asked if she could pluck my eyebrows for me. She began plucking and after about 4 painful plucks I wanted to stop. (this was before waxing, I think) Another "friend" said, "no, let me do it". She proceeded to take a Q-tip and Nair (yes, hair REMOVER) and she did my eyebrows. I ended up with about 4 hairs over each eye...my bangs weren't quite long enough to cover it, so I walked around looking "surprised" for about 3 months. For some reason I thought if I had my eyes wide open and what was left of my eyebrows raised, no one would notice. I don't think that really worked.
I have had more episodes with my hair than I wish to recall. I always wanted "Sally Field when she was Gidget" hair. I wanted long, bouncy, straight...I got...well, not that. I have hair more like Diana Ross. (I'm aging myself here.) In other words, I'm a white woman with ethnic hair. I finally realized that all the straightening in the world wasn't going to help...so I gave up and went with a short cut. I could go to the best stylist in the world and get a personally designed hair cut and I promise you that a week later it would be round.
The one thing I THINK I can improve about it is the gray. I am not ready for gray yet...don't know when I will be. Maybe I'll be one of those 75 year old women with obviously colored hair (I don't think I'll ever have to pencil in the brows, they are still out of control). But hopefully, I will one day know the right color to use. I did it again yesterday. I went a couple of shades lighter than I usually do because I heard on "Shear Genius" (a Bravo reality show) that mature women should not go too dark because it will make them look older. So, I thought that by going a couple shades lighter, it would look more natural. But no, it doesn't matter what I use, I still look like I could be one of the Osborne (Ozzy and Sharon) kids. I just did it yesterday morning and have washed it twice since then trying to tone it down. Today I'm just going to wear all black, a lot of chains and "go with the flow".
I'm not even going to tell you about the fiasco with the tanning spray...just know that I won't be wearing shorts until it completely fades.
Physically is where I have issues. I don't seem to do well when it comes to physical self improvement. I remember when I got to college and one of my friends asked if she could pluck my eyebrows for me. She began plucking and after about 4 painful plucks I wanted to stop. (this was before waxing, I think) Another "friend" said, "no, let me do it". She proceeded to take a Q-tip and Nair (yes, hair REMOVER) and she did my eyebrows. I ended up with about 4 hairs over each eye...my bangs weren't quite long enough to cover it, so I walked around looking "surprised" for about 3 months. For some reason I thought if I had my eyes wide open and what was left of my eyebrows raised, no one would notice. I don't think that really worked.
I have had more episodes with my hair than I wish to recall. I always wanted "Sally Field when she was Gidget" hair. I wanted long, bouncy, straight...I got...well, not that. I have hair more like Diana Ross. (I'm aging myself here.) In other words, I'm a white woman with ethnic hair. I finally realized that all the straightening in the world wasn't going to help...so I gave up and went with a short cut. I could go to the best stylist in the world and get a personally designed hair cut and I promise you that a week later it would be round.
The one thing I THINK I can improve about it is the gray. I am not ready for gray yet...don't know when I will be. Maybe I'll be one of those 75 year old women with obviously colored hair (I don't think I'll ever have to pencil in the brows, they are still out of control). But hopefully, I will one day know the right color to use. I did it again yesterday. I went a couple of shades lighter than I usually do because I heard on "Shear Genius" (a Bravo reality show) that mature women should not go too dark because it will make them look older. So, I thought that by going a couple shades lighter, it would look more natural. But no, it doesn't matter what I use, I still look like I could be one of the Osborne (Ozzy and Sharon) kids. I just did it yesterday morning and have washed it twice since then trying to tone it down. Today I'm just going to wear all black, a lot of chains and "go with the flow".
I'm not even going to tell you about the fiasco with the tanning spray...just know that I won't be wearing shorts until it completely fades.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
No clever title
During the school year I wake up at 4:30 am. I get up quickly (at least until around March) and make my coffee...then sit with a cup or two while I have my devotions, play on the computer for a few minutes and then slowly get ready for my day. I have been looking forward to summer since...well, for quite a while. I was looking forward to long leisurely mornings...waking up whenever, having my coffee, not getting dressed until I absolutely had to...aaaah, summer.
Here's the problem. The first week, I kept waking up with a knot in my stomach, thinking I was LATE. Once the realization hit me that I didn't have to be anywhere anytime soon, I waited for the "nervousness" in my stomach to calm down. The problem...it hasn't.
Now, during my childhood, we dealt constantly with my Mom's "nerves". She woke up (and probably still does) nervous EVERYDAY. My Mom never takes a day off. When I am on the phone with her, she is constantly talking about ALL that she has to do. What could she have to do? She is 78, has a husband, a dog and that's about it. How dirty could her house be? How much laundry could she really have? That's just her way. I know that.
But her "nerves" controlled our lives. When she was frantic and hysterical (for no reason), my Dad would say, "you guys behave, your Mom's nerves are acting up". I realized, as I grew older, that had she ever gone to a good doctor or counselor, her "nerves" probably would have had a name. (manic depression, bipolar something or other, etc)
Now, here I am, waking up "nervous" every morning. It's almost like an overwhelming feeling of guilt. I begin the day thinking "I've got to....I need to....I have to...". I can't blame it on the coffee because it starts before the coffee is even in the pot. Is this heredity? Do I have some genetic malfunction that causes "nerves"? Maybe...but the difference here is...I refuse to let it get me.
God and I are discussing it on a daily basis. I'm writing about it in my journal and now here, publicy (for all 5 of my readers). I'm making little lists of things that I really need to do during the day, and slowly, I am getting them done. I am stopping a few times a day and relaxing...even when there are still rooms to paint, boxes to move, dishes to do, etc. etc. etc. I have lots of time to get these things done. I even survived a surprise, drop in visit from one of my friends yesterday. When I saw her car pull in, my immediate reaction was..."oh, no, my house is a disaster!". I wanted to hide, but she'd already seen me. But then I realized...she loves me...not because of the way my house looks, but because I'm ME.
If this continues, I will do what Mom wouldn't do...I will discuss it with a professional. Maybe I'll be relieved to find that it's part of menopause...or my diet (or lack thereof)...or something else. Maybe I'll need to take a pill...I hope not...I hate taking pills. Maybe God and I will get it handled without any outside help. Whatever "it" is...I refuse to be controlled.
Here's the problem. The first week, I kept waking up with a knot in my stomach, thinking I was LATE. Once the realization hit me that I didn't have to be anywhere anytime soon, I waited for the "nervousness" in my stomach to calm down. The problem...it hasn't.
Now, during my childhood, we dealt constantly with my Mom's "nerves". She woke up (and probably still does) nervous EVERYDAY. My Mom never takes a day off. When I am on the phone with her, she is constantly talking about ALL that she has to do. What could she have to do? She is 78, has a husband, a dog and that's about it. How dirty could her house be? How much laundry could she really have? That's just her way. I know that.
But her "nerves" controlled our lives. When she was frantic and hysterical (for no reason), my Dad would say, "you guys behave, your Mom's nerves are acting up". I realized, as I grew older, that had she ever gone to a good doctor or counselor, her "nerves" probably would have had a name. (manic depression, bipolar something or other, etc)
Now, here I am, waking up "nervous" every morning. It's almost like an overwhelming feeling of guilt. I begin the day thinking "I've got to....I need to....I have to...". I can't blame it on the coffee because it starts before the coffee is even in the pot. Is this heredity? Do I have some genetic malfunction that causes "nerves"? Maybe...but the difference here is...I refuse to let it get me.
God and I are discussing it on a daily basis. I'm writing about it in my journal and now here, publicy (for all 5 of my readers). I'm making little lists of things that I really need to do during the day, and slowly, I am getting them done. I am stopping a few times a day and relaxing...even when there are still rooms to paint, boxes to move, dishes to do, etc. etc. etc. I have lots of time to get these things done. I even survived a surprise, drop in visit from one of my friends yesterday. When I saw her car pull in, my immediate reaction was..."oh, no, my house is a disaster!". I wanted to hide, but she'd already seen me. But then I realized...she loves me...not because of the way my house looks, but because I'm ME.
If this continues, I will do what Mom wouldn't do...I will discuss it with a professional. Maybe I'll be relieved to find that it's part of menopause...or my diet (or lack thereof)...or something else. Maybe I'll need to take a pill...I hope not...I hate taking pills. Maybe God and I will get it handled without any outside help. Whatever "it" is...I refuse to be controlled.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Endings and Beginnings
So, my Pastor is leaving. He and his family have accepted a calling to another church. They aren't leaving the state...just moving to another location. Endings are always sad and hard...change is never easy.
BUT with every ending, there is a new beginning. I love the church that I go to. Oh, I get frustrated sometimes...usual "church" things. I am excited to see what this new beginning means to our church. Don't get me wrong...not really excited to lose Scott...but again, can't help but wonder who God is planning to replace him with.
My life seems to be full of endings and beginnings. I just began a new job this year and completely fell in love with the kids, the school, the staff...and then the year ended just as I found out that I am being transferred to another school. I have spent my time "grieving" (and whining and complaining) over this change...but again...my life is not my own. I belong to God and He is the one making the plans for my life. (when I don't jump ahead of Him) So, now I am working at (yes, I have to be the one making an effort) thinking about the great adventures ahead of me in this new beginning. I am thinking about the new subjects, new classroom, new kids, new friends, and new experiences that are coming up in another new stage of my life.
Now, I need to make a new beginning on this day!
BUT with every ending, there is a new beginning. I love the church that I go to. Oh, I get frustrated sometimes...usual "church" things. I am excited to see what this new beginning means to our church. Don't get me wrong...not really excited to lose Scott...but again, can't help but wonder who God is planning to replace him with.
My life seems to be full of endings and beginnings. I just began a new job this year and completely fell in love with the kids, the school, the staff...and then the year ended just as I found out that I am being transferred to another school. I have spent my time "grieving" (and whining and complaining) over this change...but again...my life is not my own. I belong to God and He is the one making the plans for my life. (when I don't jump ahead of Him) So, now I am working at (yes, I have to be the one making an effort) thinking about the great adventures ahead of me in this new beginning. I am thinking about the new subjects, new classroom, new kids, new friends, and new experiences that are coming up in another new stage of my life.
Now, I need to make a new beginning on this day!
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Zack at 14
OK, don't call 911...I made it out alive. If I must say, the room looks great...now on to the rest of the house.
Zack came home from camp full of stories and great experiences. I'm so glad he got to go this year. I had to take him immediately to his Dad's house for a few days. (We split time during the summer.) He hugged and kissed me when I picked him up (which is unusual for a 14 year old boy...especially in public)...and then again when I dropped him off at his Dad's.
Then this morning, I made him mad. I have a tendency to do that a lot these days. I feel like I have to say "no" now, more than I did when he was a busy toddler. Now he's a busy teenager...and he feels like he should be independent already. He called to ask if he could spend the 4th of July with his best friend K. K is 16 and has his license and a car. The plan did not include any adult supervision...I don't count the 19 year old female cousin who just moved here to get away from all the "trouble" she was in at home. Zack, on the other hand, believes that she is adult supervision.
I remember hearing my own Mom go on and on about the trouble kids can get into without supervision and thinking she was just too strict and old fashioned. Now I find myself in that same place. I remember her saying "I know what it's like to be a teenager". I would think to myself, "oh yeah, back in the days before electricity was invented". I'm sure my son feels the same way. He doesn't think I remember being a teenager. OK, I have to admit, I have to think hard...but the fact is, I have worked with teenagers for almost 30 years now, so I REALLY do know what it's like to be a teenager. So when I say no, he thinks I'm being too strict and old fashioned.
Someday (in about 10 years), he'll realize why I say no when I do...until then, I'll be the "mean ole Mom". It's my job.
Zack came home from camp full of stories and great experiences. I'm so glad he got to go this year. I had to take him immediately to his Dad's house for a few days. (We split time during the summer.) He hugged and kissed me when I picked him up (which is unusual for a 14 year old boy...especially in public)...and then again when I dropped him off at his Dad's.
Then this morning, I made him mad. I have a tendency to do that a lot these days. I feel like I have to say "no" now, more than I did when he was a busy toddler. Now he's a busy teenager...and he feels like he should be independent already. He called to ask if he could spend the 4th of July with his best friend K. K is 16 and has his license and a car. The plan did not include any adult supervision...I don't count the 19 year old female cousin who just moved here to get away from all the "trouble" she was in at home. Zack, on the other hand, believes that she is adult supervision.
I remember hearing my own Mom go on and on about the trouble kids can get into without supervision and thinking she was just too strict and old fashioned. Now I find myself in that same place. I remember her saying "I know what it's like to be a teenager". I would think to myself, "oh yeah, back in the days before electricity was invented". I'm sure my son feels the same way. He doesn't think I remember being a teenager. OK, I have to admit, I have to think hard...but the fact is, I have worked with teenagers for almost 30 years now, so I REALLY do know what it's like to be a teenager. So when I say no, he thinks I'm being too strict and old fashioned.
Someday (in about 10 years), he'll realize why I say no when I do...until then, I'll be the "mean ole Mom". It's my job.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Housecleaning
Zack comes home from camp this afternoon. I'm going to clean his room...I have a shovel, face mask, and gloves. I have definitely allowed him to have his own "space"...but right now, I have to clean it and give him a fresh canvas to start over in. I'm pretty sure it will be a mess again before the end of the week, but feeling like I have to do my "motherly" duty.
My Mom was "June Cleaver". If you don't remember June Cleaver, she was the Beav's mom. She wore a dress with pearls and always an apron...OK, my Mom didn't wear the pearls, but our house was always PERFECT. I should look back at that with appreciation, but I really don't. Our house was never dirty, yet every Saturday was house cleaning day...and I DO mean day! It took ALL DAY to clean an already clean house. We were never (and I do mean never) allowed to wear shoes in the house. We weren't allowed to close our bedroom doors and our rooms needed to be ready for viewing at all times...beds made, clothes put away, all knick-knacks in place, nothing out of place. We were only allowed to sit on the living room furniture when we had company. I AM NOT KIDDING! (However, I would like to note that when she sold the furniture to a relative 25 years after buying it, it looked brand new.) There were never any dishes in our sink or in a drain rack. They were washed, (even before going into the dishwasher), dried and put away IMMEDIATELY after each meal. I love my Mom, but lots of family time and fun time was given up because the house was "dirty". I found out later in life that her "perfect" house actually came from some things that happened in her childhood that made her feel so imperfect on the inside...but as a kid I didn't have that knowledge.
I definitely have not followed in my Mom's footsteps. My house is lived in...right now a little too lived in. Saturday is NEVER cleaning day...there is no designated day...just when I have a little extra time on my hands. We wear our shoes in the house if we want to, we even put our feet (without shoes) on the furniture. There are often dishes in the sink and I don't wash them in soapy water before putting them in the dishwasher. I use dishtowels to wipe my hands...anything that doesn't go in the dishwasher air dries. You wouldn't want to eat off of any of our floors. I still find little puffs of dog hair and the dog has been gone for a while now.
Maybe I should have found a balance. I always make plans to do better...but life is busy and the house is just not always my first priority. However, today 2 rooms are going to become a priority (can't really do his unless mine is a good example).
OK, have avoided it long enough...I'm going in, if you don't see a blog for awhile, please call 911.
My Mom was "June Cleaver". If you don't remember June Cleaver, she was the Beav's mom. She wore a dress with pearls and always an apron...OK, my Mom didn't wear the pearls, but our house was always PERFECT. I should look back at that with appreciation, but I really don't. Our house was never dirty, yet every Saturday was house cleaning day...and I DO mean day! It took ALL DAY to clean an already clean house. We were never (and I do mean never) allowed to wear shoes in the house. We weren't allowed to close our bedroom doors and our rooms needed to be ready for viewing at all times...beds made, clothes put away, all knick-knacks in place, nothing out of place. We were only allowed to sit on the living room furniture when we had company. I AM NOT KIDDING! (However, I would like to note that when she sold the furniture to a relative 25 years after buying it, it looked brand new.) There were never any dishes in our sink or in a drain rack. They were washed, (even before going into the dishwasher), dried and put away IMMEDIATELY after each meal. I love my Mom, but lots of family time and fun time was given up because the house was "dirty". I found out later in life that her "perfect" house actually came from some things that happened in her childhood that made her feel so imperfect on the inside...but as a kid I didn't have that knowledge.
I definitely have not followed in my Mom's footsteps. My house is lived in...right now a little too lived in. Saturday is NEVER cleaning day...there is no designated day...just when I have a little extra time on my hands. We wear our shoes in the house if we want to, we even put our feet (without shoes) on the furniture. There are often dishes in the sink and I don't wash them in soapy water before putting them in the dishwasher. I use dishtowels to wipe my hands...anything that doesn't go in the dishwasher air dries. You wouldn't want to eat off of any of our floors. I still find little puffs of dog hair and the dog has been gone for a while now.
Maybe I should have found a balance. I always make plans to do better...but life is busy and the house is just not always my first priority. However, today 2 rooms are going to become a priority (can't really do his unless mine is a good example).
OK, have avoided it long enough...I'm going in, if you don't see a blog for awhile, please call 911.
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