Five Minutes: Full

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.


I've had a lot of celebrations for my birthday. Lots of lunches and dinners out and even more to come this weekend. I'm full.
I'm full of food to the degree that I ate toast for dinner last night (and maybe a little Chinese leftovers). I'm full of food that I can't barely think of where to go to eat during my continued celebrations because I feel like I've eaten everywhere I want to in the past week.
I'm full of gratitude. For the celebrations and that there are people that want to celebrate with me and be happy with me. I'm so thankful for the health that I have (despite all the aforementioned food that has been eaten), my home, even my cats as silly as that sounds even to me.
I'm full of surprise at how excited people are and that I'm remembered by people I wouldn't even expect to be remembered by.
I'm full of love. For the people that are here; that show up even when I'm cranky and push them away. I'm thankful for the people that push through and stick around despite all of my efforts to taunt them into leaving like I'm afraid they will eventually.
I'm full of plans, for my house, for my future after Washington Project, for my job. I'm even full of fuzzy gray thoughts on relationships that I've sworn off for good.
I'm so full. This girl couldn't be more grateful for all the fullness in her right now.


The Loudest

I don't know if the silence is a direct result of mine, it could be.
I don't know if the withdrawal is a direct result of mine, it could be.

But I don't think it is.

I think it's been this way for a long time and this is the first time I'm hearing it, seeing it.

I'm torn between becoming hardened and bitter and continuing to hope to be chosen. It's a choice I have to make every day.

So I don't talk about it, because what else is there to say?
I don't cry and scream and throw things, because what is the point.
I wonder what the point is in continuing to hope to be chosen in the face of all evidence to the contrary. But still I wait.

My phone doesn't leave my side because I'm sure you won't let the day pass AGAIN without at least a text. I'm sure you won't forget again this year. I'm confident in the midst of your day full of oh so urgent and important things that you will find me important enough for notice and consideration.

But at the end of the day I walk to my room, I turn down the bed, I crawl under the covers, I lay my head on the pillow and find myself once again seemingly forgotten.

I am so thankful for the rest of it. The rest of the wishes and hoopla. I feel warm and fuzzy and loved. But there is still a massive hole where you used to live and the grief washes over me anew.
I can't help that your silence screams the loudest.
I can only miss you and try to do the best that I can and hope you're doing the same.


32 Flavors

It feels weird to be 32.
I love birthdays. I really do. But the last few years I've noticed that I don't want to bring mine up. I hold my breath almost waiting for the day to pass unnoticed.
I expect for you to forget.
Because I feel forgotten so much.

I sit and wonder if anyone will say anything or do anything fun when I've never had a single year when everyone forgot.
But still I expect it so I won't be surprised when no one remembers. Some years I combat this by throwing myself a party, other years I just quietly sit and wait, then act surprised when people want to do something....because honestly, I'm surprised.

It feels weird to be 32 after another year of digging around in and cleaning out the dark corners of my heart. I've learned to be a better friend to some this year, and I've learned how to ask for better friendships. I've come to grips with just how damaged I have been from the trauma I jokingly brushed aside for so long and minimized in so many ways. I've asked for help, even when I didn't feel like it and especially when I didn't expect help to arrive.

But this year, I started acknowledging that it hurt, that it really hurt even still after all this time. I started asking to be chosen and then learning that when I wasn't that I wasn't responsible for other peoples emotional choices.
As silly as it sounds I've learned that I'm an adult. I was blown away one day in the midst of some serious fear about an upcoming meeting with someone new I realized I am an adult. I was afraid this person was out to get me, was going to attack me in some way and I didn't feel safe. But I remembered; I have a car, that I own, that I can drive wherever I want to drive whenever I want to drive it and if this person starts attacking me I can just get up and leave.
You could have knocked me over with a feather.

To some, on the surface, I seem a little crazier. But the thing is, all of this was seething under the surface like a life force I had no control over. I don't know how much control I have over it now, I only know that letting the crazy out feels healthier than keeping it in most days.

So I'm 32. I'm making big girl decisions about things and asking for relationships that are healthier than I've ever had before. I've had a group of girlfriends pop up that I never expected. I mean I honestly never expected these women. But I'm so happy they popped up anyway.
I feel calmer than I ever have on the inside, the outside will come later I suppose.

So here's to 32, I can't wait to see what happens this year.



I have put a lot of money in my mouth. Not eating it, but handing it to dentists to let them fix my teeth. I have bad dental genes but I also haven't always taken care of my mouth the way I should have.
As a result I have paid for it over the years.
But yesterday I felt like I was punched in the face by the dentist because they were working on a back tooth and their instruments were pressed up against my cheek bone, I actually had a tiny bruise.

So that is my flimsy and not detailed enough to make my sister throw up excuse for not posting today. I blame the novocaine.


Peeling off Skin

This made my heart beat faster and my mind scream YES! THIS!
(via Deeper Story)
Earlier this week, someone told me a story. It changed me, so I’m going to tell you the story too.

“A rabbi was walking home from the synagogue after a long day of going about his work. It was later than usual, and as he walked home, the sun set. Lost deep in thought, he took the left – instead of the right when the path split. Instead of nearing home, he was walking towards a Roman outpost. “WHO GOES THERE” boomed a deep voice in the dark, shaking him from his thoughts. Shaken and confused, the rabbi tried to figure out who this was at his home. “WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE” thundered back, as a massive centurion stepped into view. The rabbi quickly realized the mistake he must have made. Instead of answering the centurion’s question, he replied, “how much are you paid to stand here every day?” “Three drachma” replied the centurion. “I see,” said the rabbi. “I will pay you twice as much to stand in front of my door and ask me the same question every single day.”

Who are you? And what are you doing here?

What happens when we go home without being asked who we are?

What happens when our daily routine gives other people and their expectations the ability to tell us who we are and what we are doing?

What happens when what we believe of ourselves is unconsciously accepted, without being intentionally determined?

Who are you?

Like a splash of fresh water over cloudy eyes, for a split second I am in discomfort – but then I am able to see Myself. I question all of it. Asking only Him.

Who are you?

Have you been your sister’s cover? Your brother’s secret keeper? Your parents’ child? The peacemaker? The black sheep? The responsible one? The slut? The liar? The baby? The abandoned? The one who always comforts? The academic? The lazy?

Who have you been?

The fighter? The middle man? The coward? The addict? The best one? The extrovert? Your father’s daughter? Your mother’s confidant? The weight bearer? The cheated on? The cheater? The talented one? The stupid one?

Who are you?

Do you have permission to be you? God gives that. Did you know that?

God created you as YOU. Our family tells us our DNA is exactly like theirs, but the truth is that your intricately woven DNA is yours and yours alone.

God’s relationship with you is for YOU. Not for your pastor, your best friend, your significant other, your parents, your siblings.

God redeemed you from YOU. Not to let you remain as who you are, but to transform you into who you created to be.

God has called you by NAME. Your name, the name he gave to you and no other. A name that no one but God knows. (Isaiah 43:1)

It is hard to let go of what others have asked us to be. It is hard to step back from what others have told us to be. It is hard to choose a different name for ourselves than the one that has been given.

But you are not of this world. You have been born again. Your first family is the family of God, not of men. Your first allegiance is to your Father, not to the world. Man sees only the outward appearance, but the Lord sees the heart. (I Samuel 16:7)

Jesus has made you a new creation. He has taken out your heart of stone and given you a heart of flesh. (Ezekiel 36:26)

So write it on your walls, your hand, your mirrors, your doors:

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

As a sister in Christ, I tell you it is like peeling off my own skin and grafting on the new – to erase what people have desired me to be. But I tell you that it is worth it, and it is right, and it is a truth that will set you free.

Who have you been? And who are you, as created by God?
Please, share it with me.


Five Minutes: Hi-Yah

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.


My therapist suggested that it might be a good idea to go to karate or some kind of self defense class. She said, not just go but really learn it.
Apparently it might help with my paranoia.
So of course I said that was all well and good but what if I was sleeping and someone came into my house to attack me. Then I'd be attacked in a dead sleep, or I could be locked in a trunk and I'm not Sydney Bristow, I couldn't just hi-yah my way out of the trunk.

See, whenever someone (or myself) tries to reassure me that I'm safe...I can come up with at least 3 if not 4 ways they're wrong.

Get a dog- The killers could also kill the dog, they could feed it frozen hot dogs to distract it, I could have one of those broken dogs that doesn't bark at strangers

Get an alarm system- The wires could be cut, I could forget to set it, a contractor could figure out the code and disarm it, a worker could just hide in my house without leaving so they're ALREADY IN THE HOUSE when I set the alarm and go to bed.

Get a gun- OH LORD. People are killed with their own guns all the time, my friend had a gun feet from her and was still murdered, I would probably end up shooting my cats or Pete before I actually used it on an attacker

So on and so on I can go. Because I know there are exceptions to all the rules. I know that attacks can happen anywhere. I know the saying, "I didn't think that could happen here" is a damn lie.
I mean, people say that this person hasn't killed anyone or robbed anyone or whatever but again, LOTS of people were murderers until they killed someone.

I don't watch scary movies/shows anymore. I barely watch the news and I don't read scary books except on accident. But still, I'm terrified all the time and even after working through the belief that I'm not safe anywhere I still believe it as much. I don't know how to stop believing it or calm down about it.

Maybe I will take a martial arts class. But Pete should probably take one too, because I startle easily and don't want to karate chop him to death because I didn't expect to turn the corner and find him in the kitchen.


Goes Away

We've been working on safety issues in therapy lately. Which of course means that my nightmares have escalated and I've started to have trouble sleeping again.
It always seems to get worse before it gets better.

But I was doing this homework assignment where I'm supposed to identify a belief (about the world not like religious beliefs or something) and as I was working through a belief about how safe I feel with other people and in relationships when the belief that my love makes people go away flowed out of my pen without prompt.
As I read it aloud to my therapist she made me stop and we talked about it.

We talked about how I don't trust that people will stay. That one day I'll be too much for them, either too clingy or too distant, too loud or too soft, too available or too overbooked and they'll grow tired of trying to be my friend or love me and they'll just disappear.
Or they'll die.
Which logically I know doesn't mean they leave me but we weren't really worried about logical at that point.

Because I've been behaving and acting in relationships based out of this belief.

One of the questions I had to ask about the belief is if the source of the belief is reliable.
I had to pause because I thought the source of this belief were the list of people that had left, who had dropped out of relationships with me (through death or by choice of walking away and no longer returning calls) and I felt caved in on when it happened. Some of them I thought were really reliable sources. Because they had been, up until the time they weren't.
But really the biggest source of that belief is me and when it came to how I viewed relationships and my safety in them I had to realize that I was unreliable.
Because I didn't trust that feeling you get when you meet someone knew. I didn't listen to myself when I heard that whisper of  "tread carefully with this one" and I willingly and recklessly gave all of my heart and all of my secrets to them from the word hello.
I allowed them all full access to my heart without allowing the relationship to develop because I was so desperate for someone to care. Someone to see me as I truly was.

Did I scare some of them away? Of course. But the others I should have never let in in the first place.
I felt that if someone was kind to me I needed to befriend them and help them in anyway that I could. I needed to pursue them because they of course wanted to be pursued.

I was treating them the way I wanted to be treated and expecting them to reciprocate.

But that's not how relationships work.
I don't really know how to change that belief, that my love is annoying and too much and people eventually grow weary of me and go away.

I take that back. I think I do know how to change it, and I think it's happening already. Through therapy yes, but a lot of the work is through the talking it out. The speaking aloud and writing out of these fears and this paranoia. Of realizing that I can't and don't control others or their actions and motives but that I should be more protective of my heart. I should let people in, but slowly and intentionally instead of quickly and desperately.

I still feel really unsafe relationally, and day by day I'm figuring out what it means to have healthier relationships and healthy boundaries in them.


Drive Time

I couldn't wait to get my license.
My sister had tried to teach me how to drive stick at 14 but I just couldn't get the clutch/shift timing down...oh and there was the time I drove by the cop while trying to get out of 1st. That was fun!

But I couldn't wait.
So I didn't.

From 14 forward whenever I was home alone and there was a car available I would take the car and disappear down the country roads around my house. I would drive as fast as possible as far as possible until I had to turn around so I could make it home in time.
But before I would go home I'd go to the gas station and fill the tank up to the level it was at when I left so no one noticed the car had been used. I also got home early enough for the car to cool down before anyone thought to check it.

It was glorious.

One time I was driving through town and a cop pulled up behind me. Oh crap! He was pulling me over! I started to shake and had no idea what I was going to do. I just sat there freaking out trying to remain calm. He sidled up to my window as I rolled it down and said, "Yes, officer?" (and I may have batted my eyelashes a little bit....)
Thankfully he replied that he was just pulling me over because there had been a bad accident at the intersection ahead of me and the road was blocked. The last road to turn around on was just in front of me and he didn't want me to get stuck.

Another time I was at the gas station topping off the tank and accidentally shut the drivers side door. This was bad because the door stuck and often you weren't able to get back in at all.
This was also bad because I left the keys in the car and the passenger door was locked.
How was I going to explain being stuck at the gas station?!
Sometimes if you hit the handle just right you could get the door open and I stood there banging on the door and yanking on the handle for about 15 minutes before the door opened. Then I had to rush home and barely made it back in the house before mom pulled in from work.
Oh lordy!

But that still didn't dissuade me and I kept up my secret drives until they didn't have to be secret anymore.
I miss driving fast, windows open with the radio blaring. Well, I don't miss driving fast, I still do that.


Vodka (on the rocks)

When we were 11 my sister and I each got to travel by ourselves on a plane to see our Aunt and Uncles in St Louis. For a week.
It was a HUGE deal.
When it was my turn I was so excited, not only to be going, but to be traveling...by myself.
It was so grown up!

So I packed my bag and snagged my teddy bear and the book I was reading and boarded the plane. Before lift off the stewardess that was assigned to "watch me" during the flight came over to make sure I was settled ok. It was a mostly empty flight, so I figured she probably didn't have anything else to do anyway.

I was settled in my center seat with Teddy buckled into the seat by the window (he was really bossy and insisted if I really loved him he would get the window seat) and was cracking open my book. I was halfway through it and it was so deliciously creepy.

The stewardess sidled up and asked me how I was. "Fine" I replied, trying to brush her off because I was at a good part of my book and didn't want to be bothered.
"Can I get you something to drink, sweetie?"
"A coke" I replied absentmindedly. I was soooo the proffessional traveler.

But this woman wouldn't go away. She rambled on about flying and how scary but fun it was and was it my first time, was I nervous, who was I going to see, what book was I reading.

Oh! I could show her my book. That usually got adults to shrink away and leave me alone.
So I looked up, met her eyes and slowly closed my book and showed her the cover. It had a terrifying clown on the cover with eyes dark like coal and bright red hair.
I was reading It by Stephen King.
At 11
While flying on a plane by myself.

My plan worked. She stumbled backwards and said she'd get my coke and be right back.
Then, when she returned she tried to engage me again.

Oh what a cute bear! What's his name, how long has been with you?!

I replied that his name was Teddy and I've had him since I was born.
She said, that's adorable. Would Teddy like anything to drink?

I sighed.
I lowered my book slowly and raised my eyes to meet hers.

"Yes, he would just LOVE a vodka. On the rocks of course."

She didn't really come bug me anymore after that.
I also never got that darn vodka on the rocks.



I love to read. I'm currently trying to read 52 books or more this year and have just finished book 21.
I'm sad to report that book 21 was Heaven.
It is a garbage book that I read when I was young. Too young.

I started reading young (a retired English teacher turned children's librarian ruined any chance I had at being illiterate) and advanced quickly.
So much so that by the time I was 10 I was reading well above my age level...mostly adult books.
I started reading Stephen King around 11 and I also found books by VC Andrews. I'm sorry to say that VC Andrews is a darker more incestuous writer and they were WAY beyond what I should have been reading.

But I just kept reading them.
They wouldn't have been so bad had I been older. But they were terrible for someone with an already messed up idea of relationships even at 11-12.

As an adult re-reading my favorite series from her, they're actually quite ridiculous. My mom gave one as a gift to my niece when she was 14, and I promptly followed her up to her room and took it away.

Books like this make it seem like love should be complicated and dramatic, exhausting.
I feel like love is hard (as Liz Lemon said, "Love is weird, and sometimes gross"), but I'm learning that the seedy underbelly of relationships that I assumed was love isn't really. But I'm not sure what to do with that information yet...


Five Minutes: Loss

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.


We walked out of the mall and the keys were inside the car. This was before cars were smart enough to not let you lock your keys inside of them. This was also before cell phones.
We waited by the car when mom walked back into the mall to call dad on a payphone. It took a long time and it was quite black out when she returned.
She said dad was on his way, her voice sounded funny.
As we stood next to the car she paused and then said, Ellen died today.
I couldn't wrap my head around it. This idea that she was gone. The idea that I wouldn't be able to talk to her anymore.
In the typical teenage way I decided firmly at that moment that I wouldn't eat cinnamon toast anymore. David Letterman wouldn't be funny again.
I was immediately struck with regret, for not asking her more.
Why didn't she get married?
Why did she dedicate her life to raising and caring for a selfish woman's children?
Was it because of the selfish woman and she knew from the beginning that she would need to protect those children from such a woman as her sister was?
Who did she whisper to when she didn't realize other people were around?
Did she ever regret not learning to drive, not being more independent, not creating a separate identity from her sister?
I still feel the loss. The loss of not asking. The loss of taking her for granted and the loss of not being old enough or mature enough to understand what it was she did for me when I was in that house with those women.
The funeral director for my Gma's funeral said that grief isn't something that is there and then gone. That most of the time grief is a new addition to your life that you simply learn to live beside. There are times it's more acute than others, but it never goes away. This loss.


Constant Vigilance

I'm heading into a kitchen remodel and while Pete is talented and gracious enough to do everything he refuses to do the drywall. I can't really blame him, dry wall, finishing it specifically, is the worst.
But that means I have to hire a dry wall contractor.
Needless to say I'm having quite a bit of anxiety about it.

I'm just not comfortable having random men wander in and out of my home without me there. I can't take the time off and yes Pete will be there but it all just leaves me feeling unsafe.

So I try to remain calm and explain as directly as possible my concerns to these contractors and they all act like I'm nuts. Then I try to explain it to some people at work and they also think I'm nuts. Then worse still both groups of people proceed to tell me the most terrifying stories of contractors that go through your things and hide in closets waiting for people to come home.

Not this girl.

All of this is just overwhelming and if it weren't for Pete and Dad reminding me what a waste it would be to put so much money into the kitchen without redoing the walls with the sagging seams I would just say screw it and decide to live with my kitchen as is for the rest of my life in this house.

The annoying thing is, that at one point today I actually stopped and wondered if maybe I was crazy. Like actually bat shit crazy insane. Because no one else seemed to be the slightest bit sympathetic about what I was concerned about.
I had to keep talking myself off the ledge and reminding myself that I have every right to advocate for my safety and not be belittled for it.

Now, if only we can convince others that.


Messy Love

This isn't love, the mess he's left me in.
That's what Harry said about Dumbledore when Hermione was trying to convince him that Dumbledore loved him. (Yes, I'm re-reading the last book in preparation for the movie)
Each time I read/listen to the book this line just jumps out at me.
Because sometimes I have a hard time understanding love.
Is it love even when you don't feel loved?
To what extent should love be something that translates to you?

I mean, I can say I love someone...but if my actions and other words aren't loving then do I really? Vice versa there are people that have said they love me, but I feel like it's just words. Their actions shout at me that I am worthless and beneath them.

The there's the love language conversation.
Of the countless ways we can show love to one another, five key categories, or five love languages, proved to be universal and comprehensive—everyone has a love language, and we all identify primarily with one of the five love languages: Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch
Quality time is huge for me. You can do all sorts of things for me and tell me you love me but when I rank a spot in the way you spend your day I feel loved. So I try to make an effort to spend time with people that I want to know I love them. But what if their love language is something else? Then am I not helping them to see that I love them?
Conversely, I confuse the time people spend with me to be love. Just because they spend time with me doesn't mean they care for me or have my best interests at heart. I've made that mistake more times than I care to admit and it has really jacked up my definition of love.

This all sort of made sense in my head. But I just feel a sense of wonder about this whole love thing. In all aspects of relationships.
We've shown that I'm a black and white girl, and some days the gray fuzziness of love is just a little much for me to wrap my head (and heart) around.


Such a Time as This

The book of Esther is about this young Jewish woman that marries the Persian King. She was placed in the position at the same time that a man in the court (maybe a prince) was rising to power and was given an unusually large amount of power from the king.
She struggled with the position she was in. She was frightened and overwhelmed at times. But her cousin said to her that she was in a position to save her people. Save the Jews of her time from this man in court that was given so much power.
The 2nd part of chapter 4 verse 14 reads:
...And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this? Esther 4:14
Not that I'm about to marry a king or anything, nor am I about to be able to save an entire race of people either...but the phrase for such a time as this just won't leave my head.

I was talking to the women that are taking over leading Washington Project this fall and while we chatted it got even louder.
So I told them that I believed that God had called them to lead this ministry at such a time as this. Just like he has called me to rest and follow for such a time as this.
God's timing is perfect, even if we don't understand the timing this side of Heaven.

It all sounds so Pollyana-esque I know. Because it certainly doesn't make me feel any better when people die, friendships end/shift/change, months are long and budgets are short.

But I keep hearing this whisper of how all of this is coming together for such a time as this. The excavating of my wounds and the patching of my scars may cause nightmares, but I'm reminded that they are simply the infection of abuse being worked out of my heart.
I go back and forth missing WP so terribly (even though I'm not completely out of it yet) and longing for the time that I'm done completely with it. Because I don't want to miss a thing. I believe so strongly in what WP does and the way that people drift around believing they're invisible and not knowing there is a real God that sees them.

Yet I talk to these women that are transitioning in and I realize that all of this is according to God's timing. These ladies are primed and ready to roll. They are passionate about letting people know about God and caring for them. It's really amazing to see them grow bolder and more confident in their calling and such a pleasure to have been a part of it.

Because God has called me to rest at such a time as this, and I know there is more to come in the future. I need to be primed and ready to run, and I know that rest is a key part of that.


Ten Things: Weekend in Review

I feel like I had a jam packed weekend. Here are 10 things that happened
  1. Met with the ladies that are transitioning into leading WP without me. Dreaming and giggling with some matter of fact leading sometimes sucks and is hard conversations
  2. Returned the 1st pool because of missing pump (A: I almost wrote pimp which would have changed the entire context of that statement B: I bought a 2nd one the same day as the 1st and was just returning the 1st because it was useless). Had to explain to a flabbergasted customer at Big Lots that people without kids also like to swim. She just didn't get it
  3. Bought 13 gift cards (for WP) to The Rave to give to some McDonald's employees by our church's old building. Used them to thank them for everything they do and invite them to The Rave where we currently meet. Broke The Rave's printers and almost punched a lady in the face who had no personal space common sense. But restrained because I find when buying gift cards to tell people that Jesus loves them you shouldn't also physically assault someone.
  4. Spent 4 hours in the pool Saturday and have the sun burn to prove it.
  5. Discovered that if you can get children to walk slowly in a circle around the inside/outer edge of the pool this will create a "whirlpool" effect that is quite pleasant when floating on a raft.
  6. Painted the rest of my room, which took a ridiculous amount of time.
  7. Ran out of paint and was super thankful that Home Depot was open until 10pm now
  8. Spent 3 hours in the pool giggling and talking with Amber. We both fell off our rafts a ridiculous amount of times. Am now pink on both my front and back which makes everything quite painful.
  9. Convinced Pete to use the moving men discs to move my dressers back into my room. He doesn't recall stubbornly refusing to use them when we moved the furniture out, but it doesn't matter because I do which means I can mock him for it.
  10. Dusted, oiled and re-organized my dressers and changed my sheets. Put my drapes back up and plugged my TV back in. It's a real grown up bedroom again ladies and germs and I slept soundly (and fell asleep promptly) for the first time in a week. I also went to bed at 9. It. Was. Glorious.


Five Minute Friday: Time

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.


I am always aware of what time it. ALWAYS.
When I ask you what time it is (with a few exceptions, like when I'm in the pool) I am asking you because I want you to be aware of what time it is too.

Passive Aggressive, probably (and as an aside whenever I need to spell aggressive I do the little cheer in my head "be aggressive b-e aggressive b-e-a-g-g-r-e-s-s-i-v-e so I don't spell it wrong)

But I have this need to be on schedule, this need to know what's going to happen when and how and for how long. It makes me feel safe and more prepared for what's to come.
Last weekend there was a moment in the pool at Jake and Cody's when I felt completely relaxed. Not a care in the world. I have to admit, it felt nice.
But it didn't last.

Even worse I was told in therapy this week that after a lot (A LOT) of work on relationships we are transitioning into working on safety issues. On feeling safe and being safe and learning how to manage the hyper aware state that I can jump into in an instant and stay in for days.

I told her I didn't want to do it.
But apparently it's important so I'm doing it anyway.
Because it's time that I stopped finding my comfort in my hyper aware of time and surroundings and start feeling safe again. It's just scary. Because for any scenario when you tell me why I should be safe in this place or that place I can tell you 5 ways it's not safe. I did it to my therapist last night.
In the face of overwhelming proof, I choose to believe I'm not safe. Because I never feel safe.

But it's time I did.



P double O L

Soooo..........I may or may not have bought a pool.

Ok, I did.
Gosh! Drag it out of me why don't you!
Last weekend Pete and I went to Cleveland to see Jake and Cody. They have a smallish pool that is the perfect size for drifting around on rafts.
I had a pool in my back yard growing up and while I always feel like I'm missing the water I didn't quite feel it as acutely as I did when floating on a raft for hours at a time this past weekend.

Then I saw that the pool was on sale at Big Lots for $69.
Then I realized we could shimmy the shed over to the side of the side patio and not have to create a big dirt circle in my yard again.
Then I realized that I would be working extra hard on house projects and would LOVE to have a pool to recuperate in.
Then I realized I'm almost 32 and can do what I damn well please and so I called Pete to meet me at Big Lots and I bought the pool.

Then I had to go to another Big Lots and buy a 2nd pool. (His and Hers pools!). Ok, so the first one had no pump or filter and the 1st Big Lots didn't have anymore so I'll be returning the 1st one and keeping the 2nd one...but I digress.

I'm sort of having a love/hate relationship with the pool right now, but Pete pointed out last night that as soon as it's up and I can float on my raft in the pool I'll drop the hate and only love it.



Have you ever noticed how much easier it is to give advice then it is to take it?
To solve the worlds problems before you even peek under the carpet you've been shoving your problems under?

The interesting thing I've noticed about this God character that keeps pursuing me is that when I start cleaning out from under the carpet I've swept all of my ragged edges under my eyes start seeing the ragged edges on others more clearly.
What I mean by that is not that I can see others flaws when I couldn't before, what I mean is I can see them in context.

It doesn't stop the hurt, it doesn't stop the sometimes heart wrenching process of opening myself to a Grace that I am convinced I don't deserve. But it helps me feel less alone.


You're My Candy

Had a great and relaxing weekend in Cleveland with my boys. There was swimming, sun, relaxing and copious amounts of candy.
More on that later....right now, I have some candy to inhale.

The sugar's only sweetness,
Salt is ocean tears
And you were my only weakness
For years and years and years
You're my little yellow sweetie
You were hiding in a jar
Now my mind is gone completely
Take off the lid and there you are

You're my can-dy

Well the devil, she made sweet candy,
took six days and nights to dream
On the seventh day she rested,
woke up early and made ice cream
Now the devil, she must be a dentist
with deep jawbreaker eyes
Red rope hair, gumdrop lips,
cotton candy thighs

Chocolate lava stole my body
and aftertaste stole my mind
Left me dangling down defenseless
then sweet candy she said goodbye
Now my teeth are worn and useless
My eyes too sunk to see
My tongue swelled up to twice its size
and all I want to do is eat my candy
-Candy Presidents of the United States of America


Five Minute Friday (Monday Edition): Wonder

Since Friday was the 1st of the month (which is Good Things day!) I'm posting a Five Minute Friday on Monday. Try to keep up will you...

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.



Sometimes I just sit back and watch the world around me with wonder. I wonder when it's going to be acceptable to just be honest with each other and ourselves. I wonder if I can maintain all of my bravado and ask the 5 word question I need to ask to that person when I need to ask it.
Because I wonder.

I wonder if they'll tell me the truth
I wonder if they lie if I'll even know it
I wonder why I care so much

Then I remember. Because when I find out that you lie I feel like a fool. Your lying shames me even if I did nothing wrong.
Your underhanded and duplicitous ways confuse and entangle me in a web of deceit I want no part of anymore.

So I wonder if you can stop.
I wonder if you really want to.
I wonder where and when to draw the line in pursuit of this relationship because I already feel scared and unsafe and the relationship hasn't even begun.

But I wonder....where is the grace filled line.
The line where I give you grace and in the calmest and most respectful and straightforward manner tell you that if this doesn't stop I can't continue to build this relationship with you.
I wonder what that means to my other relationships, if they will judge me harshly for setting a boundary and telling you that you cannot cross it or I cannot be in relationship to you.

In theory I know it's healthy. In theory I know it's good. But I wonder what reality will do to that theory and I wonder at my ability to maintain the healthy boundary because if the past is any indication of my future it will be a blurry line that you are fully capable of pushing.

But still I wonder, because I want to try. I want to try to ask you the question and if the answer is yes I want to get up and leave and tell you that I could love you and care for you but there have to be some ground rules or else it's just another uneven relationship with you shaming me with your lies and me saying please ma'am, may I have another.

I feel strong.
But I wonder if I'm strong enough.



Good Things: June

June 1 The contractor wasn't done with the bathroom yet so I got an unexpected night of doing nothing at home

June 2 C to the razy customer at work that I got to tell him to move on with his life, that was fun

June 3 Beer and ice cream at family night

June 4 Fun day spent mostly outside in the sun at the zoo and the pool

June 5 Power washing the back fence, pretended it was a machine gun and I was mowing down the enemy (whoever that is)

June 6 Had a blast at a friends daughters graduation party. Yummy food and my face hurt from laughing so much.

June 7 Hair appointment cancelled, but the sarcastically good news means I got to power wash for longer tonight!

June 8 Good therapy session tonight, apparently I'm making big strides!

June 9 Left work early but the reason I was leaving was cancelled so I took a nap instead

June 10 Rolo Mc Flurry!
June 11 Bright red hair!

June 12 Took an unplanned nap sprawled out on the patio (until Pete scared the crap out of me at least)

June 13 Told the leadership team that I'm stepping down from Washington Project. It felt good to get it out in the open, I suck at keeping things under wraps

June 14 Painted the bathroom bright (no really BRIGHT) yellow

June 15 Had a revelation today that made me smile like a chump for about an hour. The repercussions are....interesting to think about.

June 16 Dog sitting means never having to say you're sorry for not doing anything productive in the evenings

June 17 Leisurely morning at the dog sitting house since I didn't work until 10

June 18 Sleeping in!

June 19 Finished Alice, I Have Been and took a nice nap on the sofa

June 20 Alias with the roomie (for the first time in 3 months!) We're almost done with season 4!

June 21 Girlfriends Night Out at Uno's!

June 22 Nice respite therapy session

June 23 I came home from work and SCREAMED and SCREAMED at Pete about work stuff. Then he made me dinner and let me stew on the sofa while we watched Alias

June 24  Alias with Pete

June 25 Happy Birthday, Laine! I love you! (also, Homearama, and picking out kitchen cabinets)

June 26 Dinner at PF Changs for Alexis' birthday Love talking to her about life and how God is moving

June 27 The word flawless was used in the same sentence as my name. So naturally I giggled and blushed. Hearing nice things said about me is really hard, especially since I'm trying to not convince people they're untrue anymore.

June 28 First official Girlfriends Night Out Small Group, yummy food and THIRTEEN ladies connecting and building relationships

June 29 Dreaming and praying about outreach at Four Corners with some ladies that are leading the next iteration of Washington Project.

June 30 Going to Cleveland to see Jake and Cody Eve!