Lessons I've Learned

I used to think life was a pass fail test and I was failing. The presure and the guilt that came along with that belief nearly killed me. It certainly killed my spirit more than once.

I was under the impressions that I had to be perfect. Well, at least by the time I died in order to get to heaven. I believed that I had to work myself to heaven.

Another erroneous belief I was taught was that you have only really repented when you don't repeat the sin. Hogwash! Some weaknesses can only be overcome by trying and trying and trying again. Even then there are some we will not be rid of in this life. There is a great scripture that tells us we are given weakness to keep us humble. It seems many of us need that reminder. :)

Fortunately a few years ago I had the epiphany that life is not a pass fail test but rather a laboratory. We learn from our experiences and our experiments. Sometimes things blow up. But even then we have learned something. We only fail when we quit trying.

So, I continue to experiment. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I get it wrong but I'm continuing to learn and grow.

I'm grateful for friends and family that accept me for who and where I am. We don't influence people to succeed by judging, criticizing or comparing them to others. The old cliche really is true, "Be kind, everyone is fighting a hard battle."

Stay Alive!

Yesterday I was listening to a local talk radio show. They mentioned a new study that states Utah is one of the highest in the nation for suicide and is the top state for people thinking of committing suicide. There was a discussion about what caused this but I was lost in my own thoughts.

I have been in that dark place but have always been able to reach out for help. My children, friends, church and even professionals are there.

I've seen the aftermath of suicide. A friend whose brother returned from war and could not face what he had seen and perhaps done. A co-worker that took his own life to get even with his girlfriend and a relative whose father chose this route to end his suffering. The ripples of pain and despair that spread out from these incidents is unfathomable. I know those that died would think twice if they could see what they left in their wake.

I am not here to pass judgement. But I do want to encourage anyone that may be in that dark place to reach out for help. Friends, churches, therapists and even the emergency room can help you. The National Suicide Prevention hotline number is (800) 273-8255 Call if you need to. There are people that care and better days will come. You matter and whether you can see it now or not, you are loved.

I chose this picture from the movie The Last of the Mohicans. In this scene the stars are trapped behind a waterfall with the enemy approaching. The decision is reluctantly made that their best hope is to have the men escape and come to save the women later. Daniel Day-Lewis says to his lady, "Stay alive. I will find you. Do what you have to do to stay alive!" This line was so powerful. Sometimes all we can do is to stay alive. Plod forward until we have more strength. I promise it is worth it. You are worth it!

Making Cards

I finally decided to let some chores wait and stamp some cards. I made some similar to the one here. It feels good to create.

Whether it is paper crafting, drawing, painting or writing it is always rewarding. It's too bad that we so often allow the to do list to override the need to create, to fill our souls.

I'm glad I chose crafting over vacuuming the floor last night!

Losing my Keys

I keep losing my keys. Three times in three months. The first two times I was walking my dog and they fell out of my pocket when I pulled out the doggie bag. I was able to back track and find when they had fallen.

I added a key ring with some bright orange ribbon so if it happened again I would more easily see them. No luck. This time they seem to be really gone.

I only walked from my car parked around the corner to my house. I only had my purse and the clothes on my back. I've backtracked, checked pockets and reorganized. They are nowhere to be found.

I hate losing things. Plus now, because I had to make a copy of a key from a copy I can't open my trunk except from the latch inside my car. I told my son I was tempted to spray paint a hub cap bright pink and attach my keys to that. Instead I settled for a bright orange reusable stuffed grocery bag, a little plastic dog bone with my name and phone number and one of those coiled bracelet things that you can wear on your wrist. Maybe now I can keep track of them.

I'm sure there is some deep seated psychological reason for this continued loss but I'm choosing not to think about that.

God is Good

Yesterday, Valentine's Day stirred up some raw feelings, particularly about my second marriage. I was feeling stupid and angry at myself for ever falling for the guy. I was feeling bitter towards him and about the situation. And horrible about putting my youngest child through the ex's anger and manipulaton.

I was kind of praying about the whole situation and asking for help getting over the bitterness. I say kind of praying because I'm not good at getting on my knees and formallly praying. But I am constantly talking to God in my head. I thank him for all the little things he points out to me, the things he teaches me and the times he points out mistakes I've made (always with love).

I received a couple of little tidbits throughout the morning helping me to understand what was going on with my emotions, giving me permission to feel what I feel and helping me to also see the good and the beautiful around me.

The biggest help came when I arrived at work. The same co-worker that showed me love and understanding yesterday gave me more today. She helped me feel heard but not judged. She opened my eyes to some truths. For example: she reminded me that I was not responsible for my husband's choices, that I had done the right thing and could not be responsible for him making the wrong decisions. It was the breath of fresh air that I needed.

I chose the picture in the blog because so often the Lord has given me strength through my women friends. My kids are my reason for being and have often been what has seen me through the tough times. Yet, my women friends have given me assurance, acceptance and support. I thank God for the good people He has put in my path and for their in turn listening to the spirit and helping me to continue on the path.

The Birds Are Happy

The birds were singing this morning as I was out walking my dog. The sun was out after a light storm. I wondered if they were tricked into thinking it was spring or just taking advantage of the moment. Either way they made me smile.

It wasn't until later that I realized it was Valentine's Day. I've never been fond of this holiday as I feel it set's up so many people for disappointment.

When I came to work a co-worker had a half dozen roses on her desk. The mail man at our company was running himself ragged trying to deliver all the flowers, chocolates and cards. My angst must have shown because a dear friend came by my desk. She told me the same thing she had told her single brother, "you are loved by many." That made me cry. Her words made me face some emotions I didn't even realize were there. Here is what I e-mailed to her:

You really made me cry. I want you to know that most of the time I'm fine being single. Being alone is so much better than being in a bad marriage. But once in a while I do feel sad. It's less abut being single than it is about how poorly I was treated when I was married. My first husband treated me like I was never good enough. IN fact he even said so at atimes. My second husband was one of the most self-centered people I've ever met. He never did anything that wouldn't give him something in return. I guess I still have some issues to work through.

Later I pondered my words. I faced that I go through my first marriage again for the wonderful children I have. But I would not go through my second marriage for anything. It was such a wast of years, money, and was nearly the death of me. I realized I was bitter. Then I read from y daily meditation book by Melody Beattie. Here is an excerpt:

"...The Love Day can be a symbol that we have not yet gotten love to work for us as we would like.

Or it can be a symbol of something different, something better. We are in recovery now. We have begun the healing process. OUr most painful relationships, we have learned, have assisted us on the journey to healing, even if they did little more than point out our own issues or show us what we don't want in our life.

We have started the journey of learning to love ourselves..."

Well, I guess you can find a silver lining in every cloud.

Aaargh!

First, I have seriously considered not blogging for a while. I find myself in an angry place and when I originally started this blog was to write uplifting posts that I hoped would touch others. But I also made a pledge that it would be real and honest. So, as many young people say these days, "It is what it is."

Now I find myself in a time of frustration bordering on bitterness. I don't know if it's because it's winter and I'm depressed, that I'm unable to get control of my health or my weight or that something is working it's way to the surface. I've learned over the past couple of years that our feelings will manifest themselves one way or another. While I wish I could be always gracious I am human. I know Christ can heal all things but I believe we have to face them first. That can be an ugly process.

I don't mean that we have to reprocess every single feeling or experience that we've had. But rather that we have to face false beliefs we have internalized whether these beliefs were forced upon us by others or we somehow misunderstood situations. An example of the latter is when a child blames themselves for their parents divorce.

For me, somehow, somewhere I bought the belief that I am worthless and the cause of most conflicts in relationships. This manifests itself with overeating, unhealthy boundaries, depression, fear and axiety. My go to emotion is "it's my fault and I'm worthless."

So keep reading if you want to but I understand if you move on. I hope to come out the other side with a renewed optimism and realistic view of myself.

Goodbye to Jimmy

This little puppy has been name Jimmy by my wonderful son-in-law. He was dumped out in the country near my daughter's house. Then a young girl tied him to my daughter's porch on her dogs lead.

Jimmy was really cold when my daughter came home and found him. She wrapped him in a blanket and then took him inside. She planned on keeping him for a couple of days until they were able to find his owner.

Sunday they had a delightful day together being happy and playing together.

Monday it was clear Jimmy was very sick. He was taken to a vet where it was found he had a serious case of Parvo. Parvo is a terrible disease caught mostly by puppies especially those that have not been vaccinated. Since my daughter didn't have the thousand dollars to treat Parvo the vet told her he would have to be put down.

My daughter has a very tender heart and so she spend the rest of the day sobbing and broken hearted. This sweet little dog didn't deserve what happened to him. But thanks to my daughter he spent his last couple of days feeling loved. I guess in the end that is all we can do for our fellow creatures and is the greatest gift of all.

Good & Evil!

This is a very distasteful thing to write about but I have to get it out and that means writing it down.

I'm not much of a sports fan but I usually watch the Super Bowl to see the commercials. Yesterday I actually got into the game. It was fun and exciting to see. I thought the commercials were delightful as well.

Why would I call the Super Bowl good? Well, it's because it seems to bring out the good in people. It's a day that almost all of America comes together as friends and family to share the excitement with comraderie along side some friendly competition. I didn't see any poor sportmanship. It left me feeling happy.

Then the local news came on with a terrible story of evil. A little over two years ago a mother of two young boys had "disappeared." I use the quotation marks because the police and most of the rest of us are sure the husband killed her. He was evasive in interviews and uncooperative with the police. His father was recently arrested for child pornography. He had his children taken away for fear of what he would do to them. The little boys lived with their grandparents.

It had come out recently that one of the boys was talking about the night his mother disappeared. He had said that mom was in the trunk, that his mom and dad had gone into the desert and that only dad had come back saying that mom was lost.

So, yesterday the boys were taken by a social worker to a supervised visit with their father. On arrival the father pushed the social worker out the door and locked it. Then a fire began. The father killed his two little boys and himself in the fire. What a horrific thing.

I can understand that the father was breaking under the weight of two years of scutiny. I just can't understand why he had to kill his children. They had a happy home with their grandparents. He would not have been leaving them to a sad life. Why? The only reason I can think of is that he was afraid the truth would come out from his children and that even in death he could not face the truth. How terribly sad.

As Christians we are taught not to judge but it is very hard in this situation. I hold in reserve the thought that perhaps he was mentally ill though I don't believe that. More likely is that his evil father destroyed this man's conscience somehow. Who knows what kind of childhood he had. Yet there is a part of me that wants this man to burn in hell. He not only killed his children, he did it in one of the most painful ways imaginable.

The only peace I have are from stories of children that survived terrible abuse and spoke of Jesus coming to be with them during these times. The children tell of being held in Christ's arms of being surrounded with his peace and love. Whatever happened I have no doubt they have been reunited with their mother now. They are beyond pain and fear. Their father is not so lucky.

Symbols, Totems and Allegories

For some reason I've been drawn to symbols lately. It is interesting to ponder our symbols and what they mean. Symbols have been used throughout time.

While I don't believe symbols bring us power I do believe they can point us towards truths we should remember. Allegories have often been used in scripture to help us understand a difficult concept e.g. we are lost sheep. This helps our hearts understand what our minds may not comprehend.

These symbols have meaning to me. First and foremost is an often used symbol for Christ. I am a believer and while I'm human and make many mistakes but I strive to live as He would have me do.

The key represents truth to me. Truth is very important in my life. I feel without truth we cannot overcome or solve problems. Truth also tells us who we really are. In this world we do not see our true selves. The key reminds me that there is more to me than what is seen.

The bear symbolizes strength and that I have protection. Protection comes in different forms at different times. Sometimes it's physical protection and other times it's spiritual. But I have often felt it in my life. I would not have survived spiritually and spiritually because of the protection of God, nature, family and friends.

The feather is my symbol for birds. Birds have taught me so much. Joy of life, community, building nests takes work, soaring above the world, stalwart witnesses. My Native American name is Gentle Hawk. When I first received it I thought it was an oxymoron and that it didn't fit me. I never thought of myself as gentle. Yet in the years since I have developed gentleness. It has developed through hardship and the undconditional love and service of others.

I have been greatly blessed in my life and I'm grateful for the symbols that remind me of these things.

Pain

I am in emotional and/or physical pain most of the time. I've been through a great deal in my life. I know everyone carries baggage so I'm not playing the poor me card. I try not to be a victim. Having said that I believe we have to face our painful experiences to get through to the other side.

I've been through two divorces, lost my home three times, been through bankruptcy twice, lived through the death of my four-day-old son. I've been hopitalized several times for breathing problems. I've lived in five states and I've moved dozens of times.
I've lived through a great deal of manipulation and emotional abuse. I've lived through incredible loss. This last two years has particularly left me feeling battered and broken.

All of this has taken a toll on my mind and body. My mother coped with food. She became obese and ended up sitting in a chair 10 years before she died and giving up. At least that's how it seemed to some of her children. I avoided that problem for the most part until my last marriage. I was so miserably unhappy that I started to eat and eat and eat. I gained 100 pounds and I've not been able to lose it. Yet I've still refused to sit in that chair.

In the past I've been stoic and most often faithful. The words, "Endure to the End" My daughter, who works with people on emotionally healing, gave me some thoughts that have given me pause. She said that while our minds can escape to other places our bodies must be present. They feel and store everything. I'm in the processing of working through "my stuff."

I'm working with prayer and scriptures. My daughter just added that I need to write. I am doing some of that with blogging and journaling. However, my daughter has encouraged me to Free Write. This means to get a private notebook and write whatever comes to mind. That includes "inappropriate" words, emotions, judgement, etc. By getting out the pain and with the help of God I hope to be able to heal and ultimately be able to stop stuffing (eating) my feelings.