I've been watching The Voice and loving it. In the beginning rounds the coaches had celebrity advisers and Blake Sheltons was Reba McEntire. We ALL know how much I love country music and all (insert eye roll here) but that piece of the puzzle is important.
I went to bed one night and had a dream....
I dreamt I was shopping at Macy's (which is odd because I never shop at Macy's except maybe to buy Clinique and even then I break into hives just walking into a department store, I really blame all those shopping trips with mom as an awkward adolescent) and I ran into Reba (which is odd because what is Reba doing shopping at Macy's in Cincinnati? What am I doing there for that matter?!)
As we walked around shopping together (which, WHY after running into her did I start shipping WITH her?) and she was lamenting how exhausted she was but she had this concert later that day.
I benignly comment that I'm sorry and I wish there was something I could do to help (I was thinking coffee) and she said, "Great! I'll just have you perform for me!" (uhhh....)
Then, as if that wasn't strange enough I AGREED.
We head back to her dressing room (which interestingly is just through the back of the Macy's dressing rooms) and she promptly lays down on the sofa and goes to sleep.
Her stylists descend on me and start plucking and primping me (one should never be ambush plucked, even in my subconscious it hurt)
I'm staring down at my clothes and I ask them what I should wear on stage. They say, "Oh, you can just slip into something of Reba's"
I glance at teeny tiny itsy bitsy Reba on the sofa and look at the stylists and say, "You think my thigh is going to fit in any of her clothes?!" The stylist said something about how they're all stretchy (there would need to be A LOT of elastic but, whatever)
After being plucked within an inch of my life they lead me to wardrobe and I stare mouth open at racks and racks of track suits, sweat pants and t-shirts. I spin dramatically around and proclaim, "That is not fancy enough!" and take off at a flat run through the store.
In a scene that can only be from the blockbuster 80s movie Mannequin I start pulling and yanking and trying on clothes from all over Macy's (including oddly enough, the men and children's sections...) and the dream jumps to me stepping on stage in........
The red dress I wore to my senior prom, complete with bee hive french twistish hair.
Then I woke up.
I was a little sad that I couldn't see myself performing songs I didn't even know, but one can't have it all I suppose.
6.30.2011
6.29.2011
Thanks
I met the other night with the ladies that are stepping up to lead the next iteration of Washington Project and Ben. As we talked through the transition and some guidelines of what it could/should look like I just sort of sat back and was grateful.
I was so grateful for the opportunity to lead at Four Corners and the way that God showed up throughout the years of Washington Project.
I was grateful for the staff and especially Ben and how they are constantly striving to lead well and allow others to make mistakes (and gracefully recover from them).
I was grateful for the stretching. The sometimes tearing apart of my heart by the people I served and served alongside as I saw just how desperately in need we all are of God's grace and forgiveness in large ways and small.
I was grateful for the moments with people where they realized for the first time that God saw them, really saw them.
For the lady at the car wash that cried because she believed her relationship with her kids was forever broken and we showed up that morning and told her that God loves her so much and cares very much about every single detail of her life.
For the lady at the dry cleaners that wasn't sure her marriage was going to make it and was hiding in the dry cleaners from her husband because she couldn't take one more fight. God set an appointment for Washington Project to show up and tell her that God is with her. That he loves her and is there for her.
For the girl at One Way Farm who made choices with consequences that almost caused her to miss her grandfathers funeral. For the almost year of going and playing silly games and painting nails that led to the moment of being able to tell her about a God that promises us eternity if we follow his Son. For the moment when she asked our regular One Way volunteers to sign her yearbook because she was leaving One Way and wanted to never forget us or the God we were serving ever.
For the couple at the marathon that took some free coffee from us and when we told them it was just a tangible way of saying God loves you and cares about you they cringed a little. But as they walked away realizing there were really no strings attached were heard saying, "that's the kind of God I could believe in, they really didn't try to hit us in the face with the bible".
For so many other moments large and small.
For the moments as a leader when I felt God bringing people in around me to encourage me when I was so defeated and low and I remembered that he cared about me too.
For the moments as a leader when I saw the people on my team light up with the realization that God has called them to such a time as this to lead in such a church as this to proclaim the gospel.
I was just filled with gratitude for it all and a sense of longing for what it to come. Because this chapter is closing, but I know that God is already writing another chapter on my heart and the heart of my awesome church.
I was so grateful for the opportunity to lead at Four Corners and the way that God showed up throughout the years of Washington Project.
I was grateful for the staff and especially Ben and how they are constantly striving to lead well and allow others to make mistakes (and gracefully recover from them).
I was grateful for the stretching. The sometimes tearing apart of my heart by the people I served and served alongside as I saw just how desperately in need we all are of God's grace and forgiveness in large ways and small.
I was grateful for the moments with people where they realized for the first time that God saw them, really saw them.
For the lady at the car wash that cried because she believed her relationship with her kids was forever broken and we showed up that morning and told her that God loves her so much and cares very much about every single detail of her life.
For the lady at the dry cleaners that wasn't sure her marriage was going to make it and was hiding in the dry cleaners from her husband because she couldn't take one more fight. God set an appointment for Washington Project to show up and tell her that God is with her. That he loves her and is there for her.
For the girl at One Way Farm who made choices with consequences that almost caused her to miss her grandfathers funeral. For the almost year of going and playing silly games and painting nails that led to the moment of being able to tell her about a God that promises us eternity if we follow his Son. For the moment when she asked our regular One Way volunteers to sign her yearbook because she was leaving One Way and wanted to never forget us or the God we were serving ever.
For the couple at the marathon that took some free coffee from us and when we told them it was just a tangible way of saying God loves you and cares about you they cringed a little. But as they walked away realizing there were really no strings attached were heard saying, "that's the kind of God I could believe in, they really didn't try to hit us in the face with the bible".
For so many other moments large and small.
For the moments as a leader when I felt God bringing people in around me to encourage me when I was so defeated and low and I remembered that he cared about me too.
For the moments as a leader when I saw the people on my team light up with the realization that God has called them to such a time as this to lead in such a church as this to proclaim the gospel.
I was just filled with gratitude for it all and a sense of longing for what it to come. Because this chapter is closing, but I know that God is already writing another chapter on my heart and the heart of my awesome church.
I want to thank you
For so many gifts
You gave with love and tenderness
I want to thank you
I want to thank you
For your generosity
The love and the honesty
That you gave me
I want to thank you
Show my gratitude
My love and my respect for you
I want to thank you
I want to...
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
-Natalie Merchant Kind and Generous
6.28.2011
Used
I never quite know where to draw the line. Between being helpful and being enabling and being used.
Because sometimes it doesn't occur to me that I'm being used until someone else points it out. So does that mean I'm being used?
Does the using occur because of the intentions of the user or the usee?
I just don't know.
All I know is I'm feeling dread about a lot of relationships, even those with healthy functioning people that have proven time and time again they are only interested in a 2 way friendship with no harm to either of us.
So it makes it that much harder when delving into building new relationships to know how much of myself to invest.
Because I want to invest.
As I've wandered around hearing people saying "me too" and wondering to God why no one ever says anything I hear him saying..."then why don't you say something?"
I hear him asking me to go first.
But I also am working on setting healthier boundaries and often even I forget where they are at so how can I hold others to them?
I still feel so unsure of myself, but I am sure that this is the place God has placed me for such a time as this.
I don't know what He'll make out of it...but I know it will be for my good and more importantly His glory.
Because sometimes it doesn't occur to me that I'm being used until someone else points it out. So does that mean I'm being used?
Does the using occur because of the intentions of the user or the usee?
I just don't know.
All I know is I'm feeling dread about a lot of relationships, even those with healthy functioning people that have proven time and time again they are only interested in a 2 way friendship with no harm to either of us.
So it makes it that much harder when delving into building new relationships to know how much of myself to invest.
Because I want to invest.
As I've wandered around hearing people saying "me too" and wondering to God why no one ever says anything I hear him saying..."then why don't you say something?"
I hear him asking me to go first.
But I also am working on setting healthier boundaries and often even I forget where they are at so how can I hold others to them?
I still feel so unsure of myself, but I am sure that this is the place God has placed me for such a time as this.
I don't know what He'll make out of it...but I know it will be for my good and more importantly His glory.
6.27.2011
Taking my ball and going home
This isn't my first go at therapy. It's just the first time I was willing to engage in the hard stuff and push through the uncomfortable and painful to get far enough in that there was no turning back.
One of the therapist I had was talking to me and I said something about how I needed to just get over whatever it was I wasn't over because it was clearly done. He replied, "If you're not over it it's not done."
I dismissed him naturally because he didn't realize that I was always wrong and always at fault.
While in theory I realize that forgiveness doesn't always mean reconciliation and that it is for sure not always a one time forgive 'em and you're done deal it's the every day living out of that knowing that is so hard some days.
When you realize that someone is never going to do...whatever it is you're wanting them to do, that's when the hard work starts. Because it can be easy to forgive someone when they're shaping up and walking the line you want them to walk.
But when they don't....when the relationship after the forgiveness either does not or can not exist....you're still called to forgive them. Because forgiveness isn't supposed to be conditional.
Can I be honest? I sort of hate that.
I sort of hate that my agenda and my idea of "how it should be" is not the way that it goes and that forgiving and continuing on in a reconciled relationship with a person hurts sometimes and sometimes you're still let down.
But I also know that when I ask God for forgiveness (which feels like an alarmingly high amount thanks to some spiritual temper tantrums of late) his forgiveness is instantaneous. He keeps no record of wrongs and calls me to do the same.
I also hear him asking me how I can love those I need to forgive well.
So I stomp my feet and I whine and cry and ask him why I need to be the one to love them well. They are the ones that hurt me and wronged me.
Then I hear him whisper..."There it is. There's that seed of bitterness I knew you were fostering in your heart. Can I have that please?"
I'm still stuck in that tension, in the temptation to nurse the bitterness and unforgiveness. I'm tempted to just sit down, cross my arms and pout. But I can feel Him pursuing me even when others won't. I can feel Him whispering to me that He's got this, that I don't have to carry it because He will and already is carrying the burden.
One of the therapist I had was talking to me and I said something about how I needed to just get over whatever it was I wasn't over because it was clearly done. He replied, "If you're not over it it's not done."
I dismissed him naturally because he didn't realize that I was always wrong and always at fault.
While in theory I realize that forgiveness doesn't always mean reconciliation and that it is for sure not always a one time forgive 'em and you're done deal it's the every day living out of that knowing that is so hard some days.
When you realize that someone is never going to do...whatever it is you're wanting them to do, that's when the hard work starts. Because it can be easy to forgive someone when they're shaping up and walking the line you want them to walk.
But when they don't....when the relationship after the forgiveness either does not or can not exist....you're still called to forgive them. Because forgiveness isn't supposed to be conditional.
Can I be honest? I sort of hate that.
I sort of hate that my agenda and my idea of "how it should be" is not the way that it goes and that forgiving and continuing on in a reconciled relationship with a person hurts sometimes and sometimes you're still let down.
But I also know that when I ask God for forgiveness (which feels like an alarmingly high amount thanks to some spiritual temper tantrums of late) his forgiveness is instantaneous. He keeps no record of wrongs and calls me to do the same.
I also hear him asking me how I can love those I need to forgive well.
So I stomp my feet and I whine and cry and ask him why I need to be the one to love them well. They are the ones that hurt me and wronged me.
Then I hear him whisper..."There it is. There's that seed of bitterness I knew you were fostering in your heart. Can I have that please?"
I'm still stuck in that tension, in the temptation to nurse the bitterness and unforgiveness. I'm tempted to just sit down, cross my arms and pout. But I can feel Him pursuing me even when others won't. I can feel Him whispering to me that He's got this, that I don't have to carry it because He will and already is carrying the burden.
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,
I had hoped you'd see my face,
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over
-Adele Someone Like You
6.23.2011
6.22.2011
One Word: Help - Halfway Point
At the beginning of the year I picked one word to focus on instead of a resolution.
I decided to ask for help. Even though I hate it and even though asking for it makes me feel weak and vulnerable I decided on help anyway.
Because I was retreating within myself. Slowly but surely I was withdrawing from life and friendships.
Nothing felt safe anymore and I lacked the ability to pull myself out of the hole I was in.
I was ashamed and afraid that asking for help would only give others a platform to reassure me that I in fact meant nothing to them at all.
But I started. I asked friends for help finding a therapist and then I made an appointment and actually went TO the appointment. At first I fought against the validation she gave me when she named the sharp words still sticking like shards out of my heart, but then I realized it was true.
I joined a connecting group at church for the first time in the almost 6 years I've been there. I've found new friendships developing and have observed with wonderment how many nuances there are to forming adult female relationships.
I've shared more of my story in a serious (non-sarcastic) manner with people and have heard them whisper, "me too". I've asked for help by talking about my relational fears and inabilities and asking others what can be done...and then asking them to come alongside me as we do life together.
I'm still not sure where I'm at with relationships in general. I'm still an overly suspicious person and seem to wonder always at the subtext of conversations. But I'm talking about it. I'm asking for help and I'm hearing people I wouldn't have expected step up and say they'll work through it with me.
I'm also hearing from God. I'm hearing him answer my whispers asking for help in the darkest corners of my mind and heart. I hear him steadily and consistently telling me he's still there helping me even when I can't see it through all the tears.
I hear him tell me there is a better way to have relationships (friendship or otherwise) then to give it away in exchange for scraps of affection.
For one of the first time.....I believe him.
I'm enthralled with seeing how the next half of this year of Help will go. I feel so radically different than I did at the beginning of the year, so much more hopeful and grounded then I can remember feeling...ever really.
Thanks for going first, Alece. It helped me be brave and to ask for help when it was the last thing I wanted to do, but the first thing I needed to do.
(also, if you're not reading Alece's blog then you're just missing out on a great read and a wonderful woman who is pursuing the life God is calling her to lead with all it's grit and glory)
I decided to ask for help. Even though I hate it and even though asking for it makes me feel weak and vulnerable I decided on help anyway.
Because I was retreating within myself. Slowly but surely I was withdrawing from life and friendships.
Nothing felt safe anymore and I lacked the ability to pull myself out of the hole I was in.
I was ashamed and afraid that asking for help would only give others a platform to reassure me that I in fact meant nothing to them at all.
But I started. I asked friends for help finding a therapist and then I made an appointment and actually went TO the appointment. At first I fought against the validation she gave me when she named the sharp words still sticking like shards out of my heart, but then I realized it was true.
I joined a connecting group at church for the first time in the almost 6 years I've been there. I've found new friendships developing and have observed with wonderment how many nuances there are to forming adult female relationships.
I've shared more of my story in a serious (non-sarcastic) manner with people and have heard them whisper, "me too". I've asked for help by talking about my relational fears and inabilities and asking others what can be done...and then asking them to come alongside me as we do life together.
I'm still not sure where I'm at with relationships in general. I'm still an overly suspicious person and seem to wonder always at the subtext of conversations. But I'm talking about it. I'm asking for help and I'm hearing people I wouldn't have expected step up and say they'll work through it with me.
I'm also hearing from God. I'm hearing him answer my whispers asking for help in the darkest corners of my mind and heart. I hear him steadily and consistently telling me he's still there helping me even when I can't see it through all the tears.
I hear him tell me there is a better way to have relationships (friendship or otherwise) then to give it away in exchange for scraps of affection.
For one of the first time.....I believe him.
I'm enthralled with seeing how the next half of this year of Help will go. I feel so radically different than I did at the beginning of the year, so much more hopeful and grounded then I can remember feeling...ever really.
Thanks for going first, Alece. It helped me be brave and to ask for help when it was the last thing I wanted to do, but the first thing I needed to do.
(also, if you're not reading Alece's blog then you're just missing out on a great read and a wonderful woman who is pursuing the life God is calling her to lead with all it's grit and glory)
6.21.2011
You Give Love....A Bad Name
Back when I was young and had no idea what it meant to be in love my "first love" and I broke up.
I.Was.Devastated
I didn't know what to do. So I packed up my Sony mini boom box and my Bon Jovi Slippery When Wet tape and headed off to my grandparents house for the weekend.
Several crazy things happened that weekend.
1) My Grandfather had recently purchased a little motorized cart to get around on the farm. It had a basket on the back, I presume to keep his guns. I popped some D batteries in the boom box and decided to ride it around the farm lanes while I cried out to God "WHY!? WHY ME! WHY!?!" I was apparently in the sad and on the brink of death stage of grief. Right before I left the house I ran into my Grandmother. This woman rarely had a kind word to say to me and I'm not certain this counts as kind. But as I staggered sniffling towards the stairs in my red Camp Wanake sweatshirt (which will clarify which boyfriend this was for Nicole) and lugging my boom box loaded with the sweet soothing styling of Bon Jovi she stopped me at the top of the stairs. She rested her hand on my shoulder and said, "I know this seems like the end of the world now. But, Bethany, boys are like tissues. You pull one out, blow them, throw them away and then another one pops up!"
I'm fairly certain she was going for a "There's always more fish in the sea" kind of thing, but even at that age I knew what blow them meant and couldn't believe that conversation just happened.
2) I finally make it onto the motorized cart and I proceeded to drive around the farm for (literally) FOUR HOURS playing and rewinding Never Say Good-Bye until I was all cried out. Then, as I transitioned into the anger portion of my break up weekend I switched it to You Give Love A Bad Name and sang it while sobbing quite dramatically at the top of my lungs. The rainbow trout were quite startled when I drove around the pond that day.
3) When Mom came to pick me up she brought Nicole, who has been around for every break up dramatic or otherwise. Nicole brought me a balloon, I can't remember what it said because I let it go outside and well....as it so happens when you do that to something filled with helium it flies away. As Mom chatted with the grown ups I strapped back on that Wanake sweatshirt and we decided to go on our own dual spin on the motorized cart. With me balanced precariously in the basket and Nicole gunning it for all it was worth we set off. As we were driving down the back lane and chattering away about what a jerk ex boyfriend was and how I was soooooo better off without him she got a little distracted and drove into a deep ditch. I mean DEEP. I mean we couldn't get the cart out of the ditch.
Finally one of had the BRILLIANT idea to put the cart in reverse and gun it while also pushing it up the hill. There was no way that plan could fail. So we did, and we each (at different points) almost ran over ourselves. Scraped and at least one of us (ME) bleeding we finally made it up the side of the ditch and carefully rode the cart back to the house. I walked in with my red sweatpants (yes, I was wearing red sweatpants with a red sweatshirt. Isn't it clear now how my milkshakes brought all the boys to the yard?) torn and Betty had shown up. She sneered, "What did you do?!". I just shrugged and said, they were like this when I put them on this morning and quickly moved into the next room to tell mom I was ready to go.
But the good news is, after all of those adventures, I was almost completely over my heartbreak.
I.Was.Devastated
I didn't know what to do. So I packed up my Sony mini boom box and my Bon Jovi Slippery When Wet tape and headed off to my grandparents house for the weekend.
Several crazy things happened that weekend.
1) My Grandfather had recently purchased a little motorized cart to get around on the farm. It had a basket on the back, I presume to keep his guns. I popped some D batteries in the boom box and decided to ride it around the farm lanes while I cried out to God "WHY!? WHY ME! WHY!?!" I was apparently in the sad and on the brink of death stage of grief. Right before I left the house I ran into my Grandmother. This woman rarely had a kind word to say to me and I'm not certain this counts as kind. But as I staggered sniffling towards the stairs in my red Camp Wanake sweatshirt (which will clarify which boyfriend this was for Nicole) and lugging my boom box loaded with the sweet soothing styling of Bon Jovi she stopped me at the top of the stairs. She rested her hand on my shoulder and said, "I know this seems like the end of the world now. But, Bethany, boys are like tissues. You pull one out, blow them, throw them away and then another one pops up!"
I'm fairly certain she was going for a "There's always more fish in the sea" kind of thing, but even at that age I knew what blow them meant and couldn't believe that conversation just happened.
2) I finally make it onto the motorized cart and I proceeded to drive around the farm for (literally) FOUR HOURS playing and rewinding Never Say Good-Bye until I was all cried out. Then, as I transitioned into the anger portion of my break up weekend I switched it to You Give Love A Bad Name and sang it while sobbing quite dramatically at the top of my lungs. The rainbow trout were quite startled when I drove around the pond that day.
3) When Mom came to pick me up she brought Nicole, who has been around for every break up dramatic or otherwise. Nicole brought me a balloon, I can't remember what it said because I let it go outside and well....as it so happens when you do that to something filled with helium it flies away. As Mom chatted with the grown ups I strapped back on that Wanake sweatshirt and we decided to go on our own dual spin on the motorized cart. With me balanced precariously in the basket and Nicole gunning it for all it was worth we set off. As we were driving down the back lane and chattering away about what a jerk ex boyfriend was and how I was soooooo better off without him she got a little distracted and drove into a deep ditch. I mean DEEP. I mean we couldn't get the cart out of the ditch.
Finally one of had the BRILLIANT idea to put the cart in reverse and gun it while also pushing it up the hill. There was no way that plan could fail. So we did, and we each (at different points) almost ran over ourselves. Scraped and at least one of us (ME) bleeding we finally made it up the side of the ditch and carefully rode the cart back to the house. I walked in with my red sweatpants (yes, I was wearing red sweatpants with a red sweatshirt. Isn't it clear now how my milkshakes brought all the boys to the yard?) torn and Betty had shown up. She sneered, "What did you do?!". I just shrugged and said, they were like this when I put them on this morning and quickly moved into the next room to tell mom I was ready to go.
But the good news is, after all of those adventures, I was almost completely over my heartbreak.
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