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.