..blessed are the poor in spirit..

At least 100 times before, I have read or heard the verses of Matthew 5, the Beatitudes. At least 100 times I have thought they weren't written for me. I convinced myself that the "conditions" that Jesus spoke of are those of non believers and that as a Christian, I was automatically excluded from them. For the first time I am learning to see them for what they are. Not a suggestion or instruction or excuse. Instead, a simple and extravagant announcement. No conditions, no fine print. Made in general to all mankind and specifically breathed just for me.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 5:3

Blessed are the poor in spirit, when I swore that the last time was the last time and yet here I am. Unsure of how I got here. Unclear of what draws me back time and time again. Ashamed and guilty. Tired of asking for forgiveness from you and yet unable to forgive myself. Ready to promise again but not sure if I mean it or if I even want to. When words and conversations play over and over again in my mind as a constant reminder of failure. When I lay down to sleep and the darkness only makes them louder.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, when the most painful place to exist is in my mind. When I allow myself to dream and get lost in a place that doesn't exist. There in my subconscious is the life I have convinced myself I deserve and it looks nothing like the life I live on the other side. Just like punching your fist through a glass window, it hurts to go through it but the real pain is in pulling your arm that is already cut,vulnerable and raw back through the jagged glass to only be gashed even deeper. And yet, I still do it. Comparing becomes obsessive and only adds to the scars.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, on days when being his mom feels anything like a blessing and more like a sentence. On days when my "religion" tells me that I have failed because I serve a God of an empty tomb, and with that comes only joy and yet I am stuck in the sorrow of three days before.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Annoyed.....

I love lots of things. Lots of things make me happy and giddy. Lots of things make me wanna smile and laugh. There are also lots of things that don’t. Here is a very short list of the things that are rubbing me the wrong way today….


~Pants that come with the back pockets sewn closed. Isn’t that ridiculous? Does this happen with men’s pants? And what it the name of Jelly Beans is the reason for it? Even more annoying than the stitching is that the only time that I think about taking them out is when I am wearing the pants, which is most inconvenient. It is not only inappropriate, but also almost physically impossible to be able to cut the stitches when you are wearing them. Ugh…

~Parents in the drop off lane at school that take 27 minutes to get their kids out of the car. I mean, seriously, your kid is gonna be at school for 6 hours, just slow down and push them out. There is a whole line of people behind you waiting to do the same. And then you always get that one renegade parent who doesn’t have time to wait behind the loiterer and then they get out of line and mass vehicular chaos ensues. Let’s get it together people.


~I really love to watch MLS soccer, but I very strongly dislike the fanatics, aka fans. Why in the world do they let them bring confetti and toilet paper rolls into the game? I mean, I know that it would be hard to look through their tents and base drums and fire pits and such that they bring into the stands, but come on. If they absolutely insist on being crazy, please keep them away from both the goals and the corners. Or at least get an umbrella for the poor guy that has to take a corner kick while being pelted with toilet paper and confetti.


~Then and than. I really can’t figure out when to use which one. Why is that so hard? Do we really need two words that mean basically the same thing? Can’t we all just agree to use either one or the other? It would really make my life much easier.


~People who write checks in a retail store. I have no tolerance what so ever for this. If you don’t have cash you have two options, either use your debit/credit card or don’t buy it. If you have to write a check for it, then you really weren’t prepared enough to even deserve the right to buy it. And on the off chance that you are prehistoric enough to need to write a check, for the love of Todd, have it filled out before the cashier gives you the total. The point where the lady says $26.37 is not the point where you should begin to dig in your patchwork leather purse with the tassels to find you checkbook.


~And finally, and maybe most importantly because it is today, Wal - Mart on the day Social Security checks come out. Enough said.

An Inadequate Arguement

"The other function of your journal is to show you to yourself"~Kim Addonizio

I have been trying really hard to write happy. I wish it wasn’t so hard. I mean, it isn’t hard to fake it, to write of rainbows and lollipops and unicorns. It just isn’t me.

I am not even sure why it matters so much to me. Why do I want to open my journal and fairy dust fall out. I think the why has to do more with perception then it does with reality.

I am a happy person. I really am. I swear. I am secure and safe. I am not a suicidal serial killer. I am not 13-year-old girl drama. I am not melodramatic or angry or depressed. Ok, maybe a little dramatic. But when I write from my soul, one might think otherwise.

I am trying to come to terms with this. Trying to accept it as just how I am. That it isn’t a sign of depravity, contamination or pollution. I have been trying. Trying really hard.

The following poem that I wrote today does no justice to my argument.

Starved, but not yet hungry
Innate, but not yet inherent
Contagious, but not yet infected

Tangible, tethered.

Autonomous

Stentorian, blatant

Inaudible

Canonical, orthodox

Defiant

Real, but not yet authentic
Permeable, but not yet translucent
Transitional, but not yet altered

Surreal

The feeling is surreal.
How could I have known you for so long, yet not?
My first reaction was to be angry.
Why didn’t anyone show me this you?
Why didn’t anyone tell me that there was a different way?

I was taught to admire and adore and to worship you.
To praise you and to pray to you.
To trust you and to fear you.
I was told to love you.
I was never told I could be in love with you.

I have spent so much time trying to do it right.
Trying to make it look right.
Forcing it.
Manipulating it.
Faking it.
It looked right.
It felt all wrong.

I’ll never forget the first time it was different.
Emmaus Road changed the way I saw you.
In dark, quiet room I experienced you in a way I never knew was possible.
There were at least 20 other people there, and yet I was alone with you.
It was more then sensing you.
It was feeling you. Hearing and touching and tasting you.
In a way I didn’t even know was possible.
It was life changing.
It was amazing.
It was terrifying.
But it was real.

There have been times since that night.
In a book, in a song, in worship services.
Alone and with other people, it has happened.
It is still just as amazing, just as real.
But with it come less fear and more longing.

Longing for it not to stop.
Craving that it lasts.
Praying that I don’t give up.
That I don’t come up with enough excuses to make the old way enough.
Needing to remember that it wasn’t you that changed.
You were always there.
You were waiting for me.
Waiting for me to change.

August 30, 2009

I can't even begin to tell you how confused I am.
I imagined this step to be so much easier.
I thought I would be sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
I thought you would make it easier.
I didn't plan for it to be this hard.

You know how I think, how I feel, how I am.
You know that I leap before thinking.
You know that I don't have to be sure.
You know this because you made me like this.
Why then can't I do it now?

I think I saw you today.
Or was it just my imagination.
Have I just wanted it too much, for too long?
Am I making today more than what it was?

I don't want to be wrong about this.
I cant be wrong again.

Journal Entry August 23rd

Last Sunday was the first session of our new Fireproof study with our Sunday School class. It is a really cool group of people and we are looking forward to growing so much through it. The first question that we were asked last week was to share how we met our spouse and what first attracted us to them. This is what I wrote about that night....

Sunday, August 23rd

What did I notice first? Wow, it is hard to even remember back that far.
The first thing that comes to mind was his shoes.
Funny huh? Really, his shoes?
I thought that I recognized him and then I saw that he was wearing Samba's.
When I saw he had on soccer shoes I knew it was the same guy.
But there was more than that, more than shoes.

At 16 most guys are the same, and that needs no further explanation.
He wasn't that.
He wasn't that at all.
There was no macho, no bravado, no forced attempt at cool.

But there was swagger.
I guess that is what I really fell for at first.
Swagger. That sounds so gangster.
I don't even know what else to call it.
Confidence. Self Esteem. Self Assurance.
None of those sound as good as swagger.

It wasn't long after I fell for his attitude, that I fell in love with his heart.

He is in many ways the opposite of me.

I am loud. I think out loud.
I am emotional. I show my emotions even when I try to hide them.
I am impulsive. I act first and regret later.
I am dramatic. Ouch, I can't believe I just said that. I am dramatic.

He is reserve.
He protects his emotions and shares them with those that he trusts.
He thinks first. And second, and third, and eventually he acts. Maybe.
He is not drama. Not at all.

I am difficult to love, I have no doubt about that.
I can be incredibly frustrating.
There are times when I am so unhappy, that it seems impossible for him to even know where to start to make me feel better.

But he does.
I don't know how or even why sometimes, but he does.

1, 275......

I posted my 1,275Th tweet today. I ain't braggin, it is what it is,

There are a few ways to look at it. You can pick one or make up your own.

One is that I have way too much time on my hands and some might argue the need for a full time vocation.

Another possibility is that I just have a lot to say. Stuff that is useless, random, vague, odd, hateful, confusing.....you get the point.

The third possibility is probably closer to the truth. Therapy. Less sweaty then tanning, way cheaper then shopping. You would be surprised the release that 140 characters can bring.

Hey, you got your thing, I got mine.

You Called Me What?

Today was just strange. The truth is that I really didn't want to go to church today. I didn't want to go, but I didn't have the guts to not go.
I have been struggling with some things for the last several weeks, and I knew that I wasn't anywhere near strong enough to do this today.

Who knew that a sermon series called The Wrestler would have to be so literal. I have been wrestling with God, if that is what you can even call it. To be honest, it feels more like MMA than tumbling around on the mat. Punching, kicking, grappling. Ugly at times, but necessary. Today was no different.

In my wrestling with God, I have been demanding some things. Things that probably wouldn't make sense to anyone else. Things that I had to see and hear and feel in order to tap out, to submit. I have told him the list, shouted it at him, whispered it while he had me pinned to the ground.

I think he answered me today. But I think he called me Leah.

In the middle..

Today there are many people that I care so much for that are on top of the world.

They have experience miracles in their lives.
They have fought battles and won.
They have seen their dreams and wishes come true.
They have planned and struggled and waited.
For so many of them their waiting has ended.

They are in that place, different for each person, but yet the same.

In college...in love...pregnant...healthy...home...gone...free...taken..

I have been there with many of them, watched them dream and struggle.
I have held their hands, assured them it would be OK..even when I wasn't sure it would be.
For them, my joy and happiness is genuine. It isn't forced or fake.

They are on top of the world, I just wish I could stand there with them.


For others in my life, today they are at their lowest.

In 20 minutes a family that I know will say goodbye for the last time to their mom who died on Monday after battling cancer for three years. A little eight year old girl that will stand there, her 12 year old brother and older sisters will try to make her understand something that defies explanation.

Others are sick. Their physical body is failing them. They have wished and hoped and prayed for healing. It has not come.

Others are heart broken, they have trusted people and been let down. There are people in their lives who have taken things from them that can't be returned. They have watched their families be destroyed by the other woman. They feel like it will never be better, the pain will never get better. I want to tell them that it will, but sometimes I am not convinced myself.

They are in that place, different for each person, but still the same.

Sick...lonely...hurt...heart broken...tired...ashamed...guilty...addicted...

Today, they are at their lowest. My concern and care for them is real. My desire for them to rise up, to find peace, is genuine. I want to be there for them, and yet I never want to be to the point where I stand next to them.

Two total extremes, the best and the worst.

I guess what I am struggling with the most right now is how to exist in the middle.

Room 22

I am so thankful for the difference that a few hours can make. I am not sure if it was time, the nap or the conversation and support from friends that made the difference. The truth is that it was a probably a combination of all of them and then some.

Nine hours ago I thought the world was coming to an end. Nine hours ago the worst possible scenario in my mind had just played out. I walked out of Isaak's new school feeling like I had been punched in the stomach. Full time special education was the last thing that I was prepared for. I was prepared for some resource room time, I wasn't prepared for 61%. I was looking forward to him having some extra help, I was not expecting a full time aid when he was at lunch and recess. I wasn't expecting them to say he could only ride the special needs bus, I wasn't expecting formal IEP's and scheduling for systematic observations. I was shocked and overwhelmed.

Nine hours ago it was all about me.

Now it is about room 22.

Imagine a place where everything feels right, it feels safe and secure, welcoming and warm. It is like a little oasis in the middle of the structure and norms of the rest of the school. Room 22 isn't a place for kids that are special, but you feel special because you are in it. The teacher there is this tall, strong, handsome man that kinda looks like Clark Kent, he even has the glasses. He is real. There is no other way to describe him. Genuine.

The desks in room 22 are different. The chairs at the desks are different. They have big red rubber pillow looking things on them to help with sensory issues. The layout is different. Room 22 has it's own bathroom. It has it's own couch and sink and even it's own soundproof time out room. The ceiling and tops of the cabinets are lined with model airplanes.

There are 6 students ranging from 1st to 5Th grade in room 22. There are 6 kids, one teacher and 7 resource aids. Room 22 is well staffed to say the least, but it is staffed with the kind of people that you would hand pick if you were going to be spending time there.

The motto in room 22 is "all together". In room 22, anything can be accomplished when they do it "all together". After spending only a few minutes in room 22, you have no choice but to believe that to be true.

In room 22, there is no time to consider how many rooms away the other 2ND graders are. It isn't about any of that. Most of all, it isn't about me.

Nine hours ago I hated the idea of it. Right now I am encouraged by it, on the verge of being in love with it.

August 13, 2009

Trying really hard right now to prepare myself for what is ahead today. I am meeting with the GLASS and special education department at Isaak's new school in about an hour. We are going to decide if he is able to be in a main stream class and if so, if he will require a full time aid. It is strange to try to prepare myself for something that I really thought would never come. How do you just be in a moment that you would give anything not to be in? I need help right now to make sense of it all. It is gonna be a long day.

And so my prayer today is that I can step out of the emotion of it, step out of how bad it hurts and just be present in the reality of it. God, help me to listen, to really listen to these people that you have placed in our lives for a reason. Most of all, when I want to give up today, when I need to revert to where I find comfort, don' let me.

Is There Another Way To Look At It?

I use Imagination Prompt Generator when I am having trouble getting started writing. There are times when the prompts are silly and seem to make no sense. There are other times when I know that they are not a coincidence. Today was one of those days....

August 12, 2009

Is there another way to look at it?
The most honest answer I have is....God, I hope so.
More than just hoping.
Dreaming...wishing..demanding.

There has to be another way to look at it.
Another way to see this life.
If there isn't, I don't want to know.
Please don't tell me that I am wrong.
Lie to me if you have to, but I have to believe that there is.
That this way is not only different, but infinitely better.

Many days the view of it from here is ugly.
It's dark and the shapes are so skewed that it is hard to make them out.
Unrecognizable. Incomprehensible.
Don't tell me this is the only way.
I'm afraid if you do, I might start to believe you.

Instead tell me, no, show me the other way to see it.
Grab my face if you need to, get my attention, make me see the other way.
Tell me..show me.. over and over and over again.
When I forget, remind me. Scream if you have to.
Make me listen and make me see it.

Please don't let me miss it.
Don't let me get so caught up in looking for it that I can't see it.
Don't let me stare at it for so long that my eyes become accustomed to the dark.
So used to the dark that that my eyes can't bare to see light.
Keep me from being too tired to continue looking.
Too jaded, too bitter, too bruised.

Is there another way to look at it?
I know there is.
What I long for is that it is more then just another.
Not another failed attempt, another program, another phase.
Not just another person, not feelings..or words..or things..

More than just another way to look at it.
Assure me there is only one other way to look at it.
Please let me see it.
Let me not only see it, but believe it.
Not only believe it to be possible, but see it.
Let me see that there is one other way to look at it.
Let me see that way in the reflection in the mirror.

One of those days....

It has just been one of those days, and it is not even noon yet. Luke just got out of a time out for giving his brother a black eye. When he was done apologizing to Isaak, he had to pray and ask for forgiveness from God. Here is what he said....

"Dear Jesus, thank you for all this food (we were not eating), please make me to not punch Ikey in the face anymore or to call him stupid or dumb. Please make Mommy stop being mean at me and to make her to stop yelling at me like Optimus Prime. I am sorry for hitting Ikey with his lizard, please make Ikey go back to summer camp so I can stop fighting him and so that I dont make him dead. Please be with my Daddy so that he wont break his face anymore and thank you for my "Piderman" poster and make it not scare me at night time and thank you for Santa and make him to bring me that race car thing. Thank you for getting me Cheetos at town and that I can go to Monkey Joes with my whole family and I can punch Isaak in that jumping thing......Mommy, what was I supposed to say ? Maybe I "tan" just start over....Dear Jesus..."

More Like A Shuffle

I have convinced myself that what I do, what I say, how I live is fine.
It's not like it is bad.
I just do what everyone else does.
No one gets hurt.

Realizing that someone does get hurt has been hard.
Especially when the person getting hurt is the One that loves me the most.
Love beyond comprehension.

Today I made another tiny little step towards the life that I long for.
Maybe less of a step.
More like a shuffle.
Too small of a movement to even be noticed.
Unnoticeable by all but One.
The One that cares the most.

I am anxious to take that big step.
The one that everyone sees.
Everyone notices.
Anxious and scared
Scared of the imprint left beind when I actually do move.

So many questions and fears about what is to come.
More questions and fears about what happens if it doesn't.
Is that tiny step enough to even matter?
Less of a step.
More like a shuffle.

Dreams and Wishes

Journal
July 8, 2009

Today Isaak asked me if I had three wishes what would they be. I couldn't come up with an answer...

I am trying to figure out when I stopped wishing.
Wishing.
Dreaming.
Aren't they the same?

Did I ever really stop?
Did I stop dreaming or did I just stop admitting it.
If I give voice to a dream, I am responsible for making it happen.
It stops being abstract and becomes a goal.
It becomes another thing to bring disappointment.
Another place to fail.

So instead of letting them go, I hold on tightly.
Afraid that someone might get just a glimpse of them.
Afraid that I might not be able to ignore them.

I grew up being told I could be anything I wished to be.
That was a lie.
What I wished for, what I dreamed of...will never be.
It wasn't my choice.
Autism was never part of my dream.
I never wished it.
I never wanted it, but it is what we got.
They say dreams come true.
Mine didn't.

I still have to answer the question. Three wishes....

I would wish to eliminate Autism. Not just from our lives, but from the world.
That one is easy.
The other two are not.
Not easy because I don't know or not easy because I am scared to say?
Not sure I have an answer for that, but i will.

As for Isaak, he had no trouble coming up with three....
to be an archaeologist, to find a rare dinosaur fossil in Egypt and to be the best dodge ball player in the world...

June 7, 2009

I have so much to say, but none of the words make sense.
Not even to me.

I still find myself caring too much about the things I shouldn't.
I can't make myself care enough about the things I should.

I have all the right names for how I should feel.
I have them on lists, in categories, laid out.
The problem is that I don't have the feelings to match.

I have an abundance of feelings.
On my mind, on my heart.
All too often I wear them on my sleeve.
Hidden. For all the world to see.

These feeling don't have words.
They don't have pretty words.
They don't make sense to anyone but me.
Yet, I often can't understand them.

I have so much I need to say right now.
So many things that I need to give voice to.
Things that give me life.
Things that sufficate me.

I have so much to say.
I just don't know where to start.
More importantly where to end.

Stream of Thoughts...

I try to write for at least 5 minutes every night. Sometimes it is deep, heartfelt, therapeutic. Other times, not so much. Last night was one of the latter times. Here was what popped into my head over that 5 minutes. This is how my mind works all day, it is amazing that I ever get anything done..

Monday, June 22nd

Busy day, got lots of stuff done for Luke's party...I forgot to invite Krista and Troy, I better face book her tomorrow..Still need to get a pinata or Luke will have a coronary...Luke, Isaak and a huge stick might be my worst nightmare...
Forgot to get Ike's goggles from Mamaw's house...I need to put that on my list before I go to bed...I also need to make a grocery list for VBS...
Don't forget to talk to Ricia, Robyn and Janice to get their lists.
Call Keith tomorrow about t shirts...I also need to call Troy about the picture...I can't believe I forgot to call Cheri Tague today... I have to call and check on her tomorrow, I hope she is doing better...I should call Holly too...uhg...maybe not...I love this song...I should get this cd, if I don't already have it...it might be on 18 Kids...need to check on that...I think I missed Jon and Kate plus 8...How does thread get to school..a spool bus...I think that was Ike's joke...I don't think he got it...Oh, I love this song even more...there is no way that is Gene Simmons...Who is that singing...I need to google that...I danced to this song at a Christmas dance in high school...OMG, I can't believe he is gay...That makes 4 guys that I dated that are now gay...That could be a really good sign or a really bad one...I wonder what his boyfriend looks like...I cant believe how bald he is...kind of funny...I bet he is...nevermind....ick...Has it been 5 minutes yet...I think I am missing Run's House...I wonder if Brett knows it is on...I think he does...Gotta go to the bank tomorrow before I lose that check...again...I hope my bank girl is there...kind of creepy how much I love to see her...someone might read that in a few years and think I was a crazy stalker...but i do love her...I wonder what her name is...prolly something cute like Claire or Kristen...hope it is not Mary or Judy...that would totally ruin my obsession with her...too funny...4 minutes and 30 seconds is long enough!

Goodbye..

Today I ended two relationships.
Relationships that have sustained..carried..supported..devastated me.
Parts of my life that have been dead long before I was ready to say goodbye.
Feelings that I fear will never die.

One relationship has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.
I forget how it started..when it became so strong.
It was always toxic.
At times I thrived on how detrimental it was.
This friendship gave me the strength to do what was weak.
The excuse to make the wrong choice.
It was never really able to stop my conscience from knowing better.
It tried. It tried really hard.
The relationship failed me.
Failing it is what made me stronger.
I said goodbye to it tonight.

The other relationship was younger..but has always been there.
The face to it was new..the outline the same.
This friendship gave me power.
It made me feel loved..excepted..hated..
It came up underneath me and pushed me to the surface..long enough to breathe..
Then it pushed me under..held me down..
The pain and discomfort was exciting..numbing..
The relationship was broke from the beginning, never real...
At times is was closer to real than anything I had felt before.
I said goodbye to it tonight.

The hardest part of me saying goodbye is knowing how much I mean it.
It is knowing that I might change my mind.
It is knowing that the goodbyes were one sided.
These friendships still have life in them..
What if the other side is strong enough to keep it going..
What is I am not strong enough to resist.

Saying goodbye is hard..empowering..scary..confirming..
It can be final..temporary..subjective..
It is goodbye...
Sometimes it's just hard to find the good in it...

Journal Confessions

I write for a lot of reasons, but sometimes I do it just for fun, as a distraction rather than as therapy. I have kind of a wicked sense of humor, one that many people don't quite get, and you are about to see why. I found this in my journal from about a month ago. There really is nothing else I can say about it other than it must have been a really crazy day..

May 5, 2009


Dear Journal,

I have a confession to make.....

Oh, why is this so hard?
I need to just come out and say it, but I'm afraid.
I'm afraid you will never treat me the same way again.

OK.... I'm just gonna say it....

But first, let me say, it is going to sound so much worse than it is...

I know I am just stalling....

So...here goes....

I'm cheating on you.

Oh my God, I can't believe I just said that!
It's not like "cheating" cheating....it's just...

I've been seeing someone else.....
Yes, it's someone that you know.....

OK.... it's Twitter.

Please don't be mad.
I love you so much.
I mean, you have been there for me through some really hard times.
I will never forget that....It's just....

There has been this distance between us.
I pour my heart out to you and you never even say anything.
It's like you aren't even listening...
I need more....There are things that a girl just has to hear...
Twitter gives me something that you never could....

I don't know where we go from here..
But, I know I don't want us to end.
I'm not strong enough to make it without you...

The real truth is... I want you both.
I know that sounds selfish and it probably is....
It's just how I feel.
Don't you want me to be happy.....


Please say something...anything...

See...that is exactly my point...

Journal Entry June 3rd

About a year ago I read The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne and it challenged every idea I had about Christianity. It caused me to think about following Jesus in a way that I never had before. It changed me....for about a week.

We just finished our Crazy Love class with Pastor Troy and it too has challenged me. I am fascinated with this concept of an all encompassing, overwhelming love for God that requires a life change. The class changed me....but that was last week.

I am struggling to get ahold of this. For me, writing is a way that I work through things. Here is a page from my journal...

June 3rd

I feel like I'm so close.
I think this is different.
I could be wrong.
Is it just like every time before?

I am so close to peeking over the edge.
So close to hurling myself into you.
On the verge of going farther than ever before.
What if I step out and change my mind.
Is it already too late to turn back?

I want it to be so much more than that thing.
More than a movement.
Much more than a cause.
Anything but a phase.

I don't want to fail me.
Terrified even more of failing you.
I'm in a place where I know I can't stay.
A place that I am petrified to leave.

Funny, this talk about a comfort zone.
Comfort. It is anything but comfortable.
Yet I am rooted in it.
Clinging to it.
Why is it so hard to leave misery?

I don't know what all this means.
I'm afraid I will just wait until this feeling passes.
I've done that, too many times.
But I will wait.
I don't have a choice.

Journal Entry May 27th

Our Wednesday night Crazy Love class has been awesome. I really don't want it to end. Last week Pastor Troy talked about being raw. What would it look like if we were really raw with God, uncensored and real. This is what I wrote that night. This is tough for me because it goes against the image that I have worked so hard to create....but this is raw..

May 27th

Sometimes I look in the mirror and the life that you have given me is so foreign from what I had planned that I am sure it is a mistake.

Unrecognizable.

You knew my dreams. You knew how much I had planned for this. You let me plan and dream for 5 years. You let me dream and then ignored them.

I envy those with normal. I long for one day of normal. I hate normal because of how abnormal that is for him.

I have tried to listen, tried to hear you through all of this. I can't. My life is so loud that I can't hear you. I have held my hands so tightly over my ears, closed my eyes and waited....I didn't hear you.

There are days when this thing between us feels so one sided. I show up every morning, I don't have a choice. I am there, but I'm not sure you are. I'm here, but here alone.

I want to hear you, to see you. I want it so much, but you are gonna have to scream.

Not Epic...Essential

I've been thinking a lot lately about how I got to the point where I am right now, in both the good and bad ways......

Specifically, I have been trying to figure out at what point I fooled myself into thinking that being stuck was just being grounded.

Today I made just a tiny step towards getting unstuck, out of the funnel that I have been comfortably miserable in. It wasn't huge, not life altering, but it was a step. One that probably went unnoticed by the world around me, but for the first time in a very long time, it wasn't about or even for them.

Not epic to the world but essential for mine...

Just Some Random Thoughts

All kinds of random thoughts, things that don't really fit anywhere else...

First off, what is up with all the one word titles for my recent blogs. I just scrolled through them and laughed out loud. Like I am too important or too big of a deal to come up with more than one word. That is funny. I promise, I'm done with that nonsense.

I would really like to be a back up singer. I used to think that I wanted to be a rock star, but now I think what I really want is to be in the back, wearing one of those super cute not-matching-yet-coordinating outfits and doing the side to side shimmy thing. Yeah, that sounds pretty awesome.

I want to go back to school. I only have 5 classes left to finish my degree in Child Development and Family Studies with a minor in Fine Arts. I love being in school. There is just something about the whole college vibe that I miss so much.

I think I am going to get another tattoo. I am having a hard time deciding where, but I know exactly what I want. $250 Tuesday at Sacred Apple is a bargain.

I am a bit embarrassed about how excited I am for the new Harry Potter movie to come out. Like it might be on the top ten most exciting events in my life. Kicker is, it opens during VBS, which I am directing. Something is gonna have to give.

I really would love to spend the weekend hanging out with Rob Dyrdek, Jason Mraz, John Mayer and Dave Matthews. No agenda, just hangin' out. Maybe some bbq, a little impromptu acoustic sing along if they felt so inclined, just chillin'. Oh yeah, and my other BFF can come too, just to keep me grounded.

I feel like I might have finally had that moment where I realize that I am middle age, old even. I really like cars. I know exactly what I like and what I don't like. For a while now I have wanted either a Dodge Charger or a Lincoln MKZ. In the past when I have seen one I have always lusted just a bit for it. We have looked into both of them and I know the cost and payment for each, and it is a lot. The other day I was stopped next to a GORGEOUS black MKZ and the first thought that went through my mind was.... "I'm so glad I don't have that payment." I am officially old.

I find myself saying all of those things that I swore growing up I would never say. I am from pretty humble roots, to say the least. The words redneck and hillbilly would be very appropriate. I, however, used to be obsessed about not living up to that legacy. Seems that I the apple might not have fallen so far from the tree. I find myself all the time saying things like "fixin' to, oughten not and y'all." The other day I even told Luke we were "leavin' to go to town", we live in town.

I feel guilty about the fact that I am neither a pet person or a baby person. Doesn't that sound evil? I mean I don't hate em', babies at least, I just don't really like to hang out with them for any extended period of time.

Given the choice between television/movies or music, I would with out a doubt pick music. I could go for the rest of my life and never watch another TV show or movie, as long as I had music. I really could not imagine my life without it.

I feel strangely relieved about airing out some of my random even peculiar thoughts. There are others, but for now, that will do. Ahhhhhhhh, I really do feel better!

But then...

I can't even count the number of times my kids have gone to bed dirty or with out brushing their teeth. There have been days when they have eaten candy for breakfast and I have often bought them things just to keep them from throwing a fit. I have regretted saying no way to often and regretted even more not saying no. I have often ran out of patience way to early in the day.

There are days when I know that I have failed them, but then....

There are the days when it all seems right. Moments when I truly know that loving them is enough.

Today was one of those days.

Isaak came home from school upset about the death of a mother and two children that attend church at Faith, where he goes to school. We talked about it for a while and then he said, "at least it is good for them, cause they are in heaven now, and there are no fires in heaven." We talked a bit more, then he asked me if he could ask Jesus to live in his heart. We knelt right there in the garage, and he bowed his little head and said the sweetest prayer I have ever heard.

I am so thankful for days like this, one that I will never forget.

Here

"....right here in this moment is right where I'm meant to be...and I could not ask for more."

It has taken me a long time to actually believe this, longer than I even want to admit to myself. I have spent so much time and energy trying to get back to the place where I thought I should be, only to realize that it was a place that I had created in my mind.

I am ashamed of what that journey has looked like. In every situation that I sought happiness and failed, there was one common denominator. Me. There is no friendship, no relationship, no drink, nothing that could change the fact that what I was unhappy with the most was me.

It hasn't been easy and wouldn't expect it to be, but I am changing. The hardest part in changing is mental for me. I can act the part, I can put on the show that people want, but actually feeling it has been hard.

I am good at pretending and even better at manipulating situations and relationships. I am trying to stop that, but it is something that I have always done, and I know that it will take time.

More than anything, I am thankful. I have spent so many years trying to keep God at a safe distance. Ready to call on him in times of need, but far enough away to feel like he wasn't watching. Praying for people and expecting that he would answer, but believing that it was a kind of grace and love that was reserved for others but certainly not for me. Accepting that kind of gift is hard for me.

It is a process for me, something that I want desperately. I also know that it is something that I could never do on my own. Stumbling scares me, the fear of reverting to what is comfortable is numbing.

More than fear, I feel hope. I feel reassurance and confirmation that this really is right where I am supposed to be. In this moment, I am not supposed to be anywhere but here.

That is awesome.





I

...hope..

...I found this poem a few years ago and I always go back to it as a reminder of the blessings that I have...




WELCOME TO HOLLAND
by
Emily Perl Kingsley.

c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

quiet

....for the last few weeks I have been really looking forward to this weekend. I am sitting alone in a hotel room right now, getting ready for an auction. I am excited about the treasures that await me today, but I was even more excited about getting a break from the craziness that is my life...

...what I craved the most was quiet....silence. What I didn't count on was that when surrounded by silence, I would no longer be able to ignore my own thoughts. It's an uncomfortable place, but one that I need to be in. I have heard more and said more in the last 12 hours of silince, than I have in years...

...the conclusions that I have come to are scary, they require an action, something to change. More than the fear of what I need to do is the cripling thought that I will do nothing. The idea that I will wake up next month, next year and still be the same is terrifying.

...I am really good at excuses, at reasons why I can't do the right thing, be the person that I know should be. I have lists of them, but in the quiet of the night I realize that they are just that, excuses.

...I don't know where I go from here, but I am open...

truth

I got a call this morning from someone wanting to know if I would be interested in writing some articles for a publication that focuses on parenting children with special needs. As with most everything in life, this publication has a very clear defined platform, all though they might not advertise it as such. In the course of talking with her I could tell very quickly that they wanted an article that would be nice. I was not in the mood to be nice.

Nice... Flowery.... Tell about how wonderful it is to be blessed with a child that is so specially gifted. Rave about the joys of the experience, about how it has made our family stronger, how we would not trade this opportunity for the world. She used words like hope and positive. Several times she used the word truth.

The truth is that it sucks. There is nothing great or heart warming about it. There is no way to sugar coat it, to make it a positive. Truthfully, it is just not good.

I hate the term special needs. There is nothing special about it. Different, but not special. Unique, but not special.

It has not made me a stronger person nor has it strengthened our family or our marriage. If anythind it has done the opposite.

The statistic is something like 80% of all marriages that involve an autistic child fail. The stress of dealing with the day to day makes the idea of sharing 50/50 custody seem like a break, sometimes the only option in order to be able to breathe. I know how bad it sounds, but that is the truth.

Hope is something that rarely is factor in my daily routine. There are glimmers of hope that are found in new medicines or therapy, but they are always short lived. Don't get me wrong, we have good days. We have some really good days, the problem is that the good days make the bad days even harder. The reality is that it is not going to get better. He is not going to wake up one day and be free of this. That doesn't offer much hope.

I love him with everything that I am, but that doesn't make it any better. There is nothing that I can do or say that can take away that struggle that he feels. There are times when he asks me to make it stop, to help him be able to stop all of the feelings. I cant do that for him, that is the reality.

She wanted the truth, but as with most people, I don't think they can handle the truth.

Fabulous

So today was a great day, fabulous even. I haven't had a day like this in a while and it was far too long overdue.

It really started last night with Girls Night Out with my two best girlfriends. There is just something about being with people who really get me that makes for so much fun. With these girls I don't have to come up with lengthy explanations and far stretched analogies to get my feelings across, they just know. I love them so much and spending a few hours with them last night was exactly what I needed. We are also planning our annual fall trip and staying in a cabin in Gatlinburg, TN that is to die for. It is called Very Beary and has four master bedrooms, a dream kitchen, game room, theatre room, hot tub and breath taking views. Sure to be an amazing weekend!!

I was already in a great mood when I woke up and things just got better from there. I began the day sitting in a massage chair with my feet soaking in hot water while I texted, facebooked and checked email. A pedicure and an iPhone, if there is such a thing as complete bliss, that just might be it. It totally took my mind off the fact that the women in the nail salon only speak Korean and I am always convinced that they are talking about me while I am sitting there. My pedicure was followed by a manicure and getting my eyebrows done, which while painful, I kinda love.

I bought some new capri's and a few shirts to go with my cute toes and even had time to go to Macy's to get makeup and perfume. I did all of this, including a car wash in 2 hours and 15 minutes. Sometimes I even impress myself.

When I got home I could not resist being outside because the weather is sooo beautiful. I was able to clean my car out including the carpet and upholstery. I love a clean car, it makes me feel responsible and happy!!

To round out the afternoon I mowed the front yard and even had time to do my Shred workout. Ahhhhhhhhh...I love my life.

Reality will set in tomorrow when I realize that I will be up for about 40 hours straight with Crazy Night and Spring Fest, but for today all is good!!

Words

So, I am kind of a closet nerd. I have a strong affinity for words, one that could be considered borderline obsessive. I am always amazed at the power of words, that a simple combination of letters can have so much impact. My absolute favorite word is nevertheless. I just love it!

I follow lots of "word for the day" lists and today two of my words were diaphanous and contretemps. My goal for the day is to use those words in casual conversation, which could be a stretch considering who I will be talking to.

Here is my favorite quote for the day...

We are all of us more or less echoes, repeating involuntarily the virtues, the defects, the movements, and the characters of those among whom we live. -Joseph Joubert, essayist (1754-1824

What is your favorite word?

100

Lately I have been feeling overwhelmed with stuff.

Piles, boxes, bags, all full of things. Clothes, decorations, papers, pictures, more clothes, just lots and lots of stuff. It is everywhere. The attic is full, both sheds are full, the loft in the shed is full, closets are spilling over, all with stuff.

This week I am on a mission to get rid of it. I feel like it is suffocating me at times and I am so over that. Im tired of looking at it, thinking about it, feeling guilty about how much there is, I am ready to let it go.

Today my goal is to get rid of 100 things.

100 things that I don't love, don't need, maybe don't even remember that I have.

The stack of boxes to begin going through looks overwhelming, but I am reminded that there are people right now that are literally living out of the same boxes that house my stuff.

Kinda puts it all in perspective.

Positive

I realize that I have been a huge "Debbie Downer" lately and I am really trying to cheer up and see the glass as half full. In light of my recent epiphany, I have chosen to share only positives today. Here we go....

I got my hair cut on Sunday and was SuPeR excited about my new summer do! On my way to Indianapois on Monday morning I looked in the mirror to discover one chunk of hair hanging down that she had missed. I spent the rest of the morning at Riley with my head tilted to one side hoping it would distract anyone from the large section of hair that was hanging about one inch longer than the rest. On the positive side, at least it wasn't an inch shorter than the rest.


For the past several mornings I have heard a strange sound comming from outside near the laundry room. Turns out we have company. A lovely famiy of birds have taken up residency on our dryer vent. Plus side, until Brett takes care of it I don't have to do laundry.

I have worn the same Clinique makeup for the past 8 years. I have a winter shade and a summer shade and I always get the same thing. I went to get it on Sunday and turns out they no longer carry it. I saved $26.50.

I have not been sleeping well the last several nights. I keep waking up really early from strange dreams and then not being able to go back to sleep. Bright side is I can tell you exactly how many revolutions per minute the ceiling fan makes.

We are off to such a great start, I can't wait to see what the rest of the week brings!!!

Ifs

Ifs.

What if I ......?

Lately this question has been playing over and over again in my head. From the most open areas of my life to the most personal, what if.......

what if I.....what if he.....what if we.....what if I would have......what if I didn't.........what if it was 10 years ago.......what if...........?

Just when I think that I might be getting it all together, this happens. It always does. I begin to question everything. The question of "what if" becomes something that I obsess over, feeling like I have to know the answer in order to move on.

How do I figure out the answer to a question that doesn't always have one?

I keep waiting to grow up, to move beyond this searching stage, to find contentment. It hasn't happened yet. I hope it does.

I guess there is a good reason why this is one of my favorite sayings:

"If ifs were fifths, we'd all be drunk!"

Firsts

Firsts. At least first in a whiles. The last week has been full of them. Some good, some bad.

The first time I ate Uno's Pizza. Giordano's used to be my favorite, not any more.

The first time in a very long time that I cried in front of anyone other than Brett. I hate that.

The first time I tanned in a while. I know it is not the healthiest way to relieve stress, but there is just something about it that is so relaxing.

The first time I have ever seen a helicopter on the interstate. I kind of felt like I was in a big Hollywood movie, that was until I realized it was being pulled on a trailer. Weird.

The first time I have seen Isaak play. Sure, he has played before, but I mean really sit down and engage in creative play. He is seven.

The first time I had turkey bacon. Not bad. Not the same, but not bad.

The first time in a while that I was in a situation with a certain person and I did what was right even though it was not what I wanted to do.

The first time in three years that I really feel like it is going to be OK. It will be different than I planned, but it will be OK.

There were others this week, some very personal. Of those, there are ones that I will cherish forever and a few that I wish had not happened at all. Firsts can be exciting. They can also be painful.

Numb

It has been a very long day, one that creeps by in the middle of a even longer week.

Isaak is having a really hard time and is now on the verge of being permanently expelled from school. He has started to hurt himself and others. He barely sleeps, and when he does he goes through manic episodes, half awake and half asleep. He has threatened his classmates and teacher. He has stopped telling the truth.

The only word that I have to explain how I feel is numb. That's all that I have left.

I have done mad. I have done mad really well. I have been mad at everyone that I can think of, including God. I don't have the energy to do mad anymore.

I have lived sad. I have wallowed in sad. I am done with sad.

I have played the victim. Over and over again I have made this all about me.

I have taken comfort in guilt. I have used guilt as a way to make sense of what is going on. I done with that.

I have faked happy. I have faked happy a lot. I have pretended to be OK for so long, hoping that I could fake it until I feel it. I am not happy.

I am numb. I am out of anger and sadness and guilt and tired of pretending.
Numb is all I have left.

Questions

Why me, why us, why him?
Why this, out of everything that could have happened, why this?
When does is stop hurting?
When do I stop dreaming about what could have been and accept this as reality?
How long before I stop blaming myself, analyzing every decision I made while pregnant and before?
Why do I need to know the how and the when?
When do I stop making it about me?
When do I stop worrying about what other people think?
When do I stop relating Autism with being a bad parent?
What if it never gets any better than today?
What if it gets worse?
How could God possibly think that I could handle this?
Why?

It seems that I have so many more questions than answers these days.

Real

I just can't get something out of me head. Someone close to me recently asked me if I was "real".

Are the things that I do and the way that I act who I really am?
Or, am I just pretending? Just playing a role?

The honest answer is that I don't know.

I used to think I was.

I think I want to be.

I get so close to letting go of all the things that I desperatly cling to that keep me from being "real", yet let the fear of being transparent keep me from going all the way.

Why is it so hard?

Goldmine Update

Just an update on my most recent auction find/ebay sale. My two plates sold for $177.50 and $189.50. I still have four more to list. Keep your fingers crossed!!

Oops, I Did It Again....

I spent all of last Friday with the finest people that Lebanon, IN has to offer and came home with a truck FULL of stuff from the auction. Ashley, my youngest sister, and I spent ALOT of money and I was feeling just a bit disappointed at the value of some of the items that I bought, thinking that I might not be able to come out ahead on this trip.

I was wrong!! I bought a whole lot of misc. items for $12.00. There was a bunch of stuff in this lot, enough to cover an 8 ft table and what I really wanted from the group was a set of sterling silver vases to use on my mantle. I knew that one of the clocks in the lot was Swiss and would bring a nice profit, but other than that the rest would probably be junk.

I was wrong!! Turns out that there were six ugly little green and white plates that were original to the West Baden Hotel from the early 1900's. We have only listed two of them so far and with 5 days to go on the auction, they are both up to $100 a piece. Oh yeah, and the clock will probably sell for about $75. Yeah!!

I love being wrong!

Check it out!