10 things that make you AWESOME!!

Well, okay, I'll admit right off the bat that I have no clue what makes you awesome. Well, maybe. Some of you, who I know personally, I could come up with a list. But the rest of you... I'm just going to assume. Because the fact is, we all have things that make us awesome, but we don't always claim it.

Why don't we claim it? Well, there are a lot of reasons, and I know for me, a lot of it goes back to childhood wounds where people mocked me for claiming my awesomeness. I was bullied and treated really badly by a lot of people, so it was easier to shrink and hide from the meanness that seemed to inevitably follow. But you know, the more we keep hiding our awesomeness, the more we let the bullies win. They drag us down, and keep us down, and if you think about it, they don't do it because we're not worthy of our awesomeness, but because they aren't. Our awesomeness threatens them, because they bought into the belief that if someone else is awesome, they can't be awesome too.

Which is a big, fat lie.

Here is the truth about being awesome. I am awesome. You are awesome. And your awesomeness in no way diminishes mine. My awesomeness does not diminish yours. In fact, if we both allow ourselves to be awesome together, in recognition of our mutual awesomeness, we make the world a better, more awesome place. We give all the people out there, hiding their awesomeness, permission to shine.

I did a great video on Periscope today, about the fear of putting yourself out there. Friends, I wish I could tell you that I am not afraid. But the truth is, I'm a big old chicken. Maybe that's why I love my chickens so much. I can totally relate to them. If you're not on Periscope, you should follow me and watch my scopes. Why? Because they're awesome! Anyway, in that video, I gave people a challenge to come up with ten things that make them awesome. I promised that I'd do it, too. Now, I did say I'd do it within the hour, but then I got inspired to do it as an art journal project with Princess, and I had to wait for the paint to dry, so it took a bit longer. But I am keeping my commitment to my viewers, to my friends, and to myself... the picture you see is the picture I made proclaiming my awesomeness to the world!

And, in case you can't read it, here is my list: Ten things that make me awesome!
1. I make mistakes, and that's okay! (I messed up the lettering in my art, and it's okay!)
2. I am a good mom.
3. I love chickens.
4. I like to help people.
5. I am a good writer.
6. I am creative.
7. I am a nature lover (as long as it's not in my house!).
8. I love to travel.
9. I like to learn new things.
10. I am resilient!

So here's my challenge for you. What makes you awesome? Make a list of your ten things. If you're not brave enough to share them all on my blog, share your favorite. Whether you admit it here or not, you are awesome. I don't know all the things that make you awesome, but I know they're there. So share! Let's be awesome together, and make the world a more awesome place!

Where is your focus?

[caption id="attachment_4635" align="alignleft" width="225"] What are you focused on?[/caption]

Earlier today, I was driving to an appointment and thinking about what I'd be blogging about today since I'm taking a blog challenge from Jeff Goins and I need to post daily. But then, something happened, and what was a really super awesome mood is just now, well, meh. I'm feeling a little deflated and a little discouraged. Which is when it occurred to me. Losing your focus is really easy.

Maybe that sounds a little too obvious, but sometimes I think we forget.

When we have a big dream, it's easy for little things to slip in and take away our focus.

I went from being rah-rah, I can do this, and here is what I have all laid out, to really feeling bad about myself, beating myself up, and feeling insecure. And immediately, I forgot all about the other plans I had. The good things I wanted to do. Fortunately, I didn't remain in that place for long. I asked myself an important question- is this what I want?

If we're focused on all the negatives and reasons why we can't, or even just the things that are dragging us down in other areas of our lives, we leave no room for the good things to come in.

With no room for the good things to come in, how on earth am I supposed to get the things I really want?

I'm not saying this is easy. Trust me! Even as I write this, I'm tempted to go back to that thing that's really upsetting me, and think about it. Which is completely ridiculous, because there is nothing I can do about it. I have to keep reminding myself that the thing I can do something about, achieving my dreams, IS something I have control over, and I need to just do it.

So that's what I'm doing. I'm sitting here, reminding you, reminding myself, that there are far more important things to focus on. Things that I can give my attention to and feel good about.

And that brings me back to the title of this post- where is your focus? Are you letting the junk in life drag you down, or are you bringing your attention back to the thing you really want?

 

The healing power of art, friendship, and Truth

One of the biggest blessings in my art journaling journey has been to see how many inner wounds it has healed. I'm doing a number of different art journal projects, and one of the most daunting things has been that a lot of the challenges ask you to do some kind of self-portrait.

I'm going to be honest here. I HATE pictures of myself. I'm not like some people, who completely shun the camera, because I have relatives who are like that, and it makes me sad that I have no pictures of them. But still, there's a tiny part of me that dies inside when I'm asked to be in a picture. When I see a picture of me, I see the awful labels that have followed me around for years- the ugly girl who was bullied and made fun of. I hear the voices that tell me I'm not good enough and point out all of my flaws. And I think, "I'm such a phoney for all the positive self talk I give myself about my appearance."

So when I'm asked to take a picture of myself and put it in a journal that's all about celebrating my creativity, I think, "why am I torturing myself?" Which means I put off the task as long as possible until I'm finally forced to do it because I can't allow myself to skip a journal exercise.

Today I had coffee with my friend Niki. She does not know I was struggling with this, and yet, she said something that rocked my world in terms of how I viewed my picture. She said something along the lines of, "living under Christ, we are already God's beloved. He doesn't look at us and see sinners, He sees people He dearly loves." I knew those words to be true. But as I tossed them about in my mind, I realized that as much as I say I believe that, I don't live that in my own life. If I really believed that God looked at me as His beloved, JUST AS I AM, then why do I look at myself with labels that are not true? I've worked so hard to get past the body image lies, but as much time as I spend telling myself what I think should be the truth, the old lies creep in.

When I got home, I decided to do the selfie exercise. As soon as I printed the picture, I immediately started picking out the flaws- my double chin because I don't know how to hold my head right, the hormonal acne, the gray hairs, the awkward smile. I glued my picture down, and I wanted to cry. But then I remembered Niki's words, and I thought, "all those things I hate, God loves."  Before I could stop myself, I took a Sharpie, and wrote right across my forehead, "beloved." I decorated my picture by decoupaging tissue paper around it. I like that look, and I decided that it reminds me of stained glass, which is something you find in the most beautiful of cathedrals- God's holy places. I am a holy temple of God. But then I had to take it a step further. I wrote down all the labels GOD has given me. All the beautiful, wonderful things that HE has called me. I surrounded myself with truth.

I look at that picture now, and I think, "wow, I'm really pretty." I don't feel the shame I typically feel when I see a picture of myself. I see me. I see the person that God made. And I think she's lovely. I am lovely.

I don't make art because I have aspirations of being a great artist. Most people are not going to look at the art I make and think I have amazing talent. But that's not the point. In my art, I've found a way to take the wounds of the past, combine them with the beautiful words of truth from my friends, and find healing. I look through some of my other selfie projects, and I like the girl I see. She may not be perfect, but that's okay. God looks down on her - on me- and sees someone He adores.

What do you see when you see pictures of yourself? Do you see someone who is beautiful and beloved? If not, I encourage you to let God into that place. Take your picture. Print it out. Claim God's truth over your image. You are so valuable to God.

Using the blessing to take the sting out of the cost

At this moment, hubby and I are cringing at some of our bills. For the first time in twenty years, I owe taxes. Added to that, our dog needed some expensive care- routine, but because of his age, he needed some extra things that made it cost more money. On top of that, we had to have some work around our house done. We could have put off the dog and the house, but I was afraid that if we waited, there'd be more problems that would cost more.

All in all, we've had to tighten our belts significantly this month. I've cringed as I've had to write the checks, cringed even more when we had a few weird bills come up that we weren't expecting, and had a general bad attitude about money and spending it.

Then I had a reality check.

We owe the IRS because we made more money than we've ever made. In fact, we made more money than we'd ever thought we could. I planned for that, yet it wasn't enough. Because I had to know where we went wrong, I checked a few things. Not only did we make more money, I actually spent less money on my business, so we had fewer deductions. In addition, we refinanced our mortgage, so we lost deductions there. In essence, we owe money because I worked so hard to save money this year.

Thanks to Obamacare, we had more medical expenses than we've ever had, but because of our income, we couldn't deduct any of it. I knew we wouldn't be able to deduct our expenses this year, and while I am a little bitter at how much out of pocket we spent, I can't help but be grateful that we could pay for all of it. My daughter needed special therapy not covered by the insurance. I wasn't sure where the money would come from, but after refinancing our mortgage, we were able to easily pay for it.

Last year, we paid off our car, paid down a significant amount of debt, paid for our kids to be in all the activities they wanted, never went without a basic need or had to decide which need was really a want, and did a lot of fun things as a family.

We're planning on visiting our eldest daughter for her military graduation this summer. A family vacation. Hubby was upset at how much it is going to cost. But then I broke it down for him. We can afford to take a family vacation! It wasn't many years ago that we couldn't afford to go camping for a weekend, let along fly to Washington DC for a week as a family.

It stinks that we have to pay taxes, but as I look back on the year, and I look to the things we get to do, I find the blessings so overwhelming, that I'm feeling a little better about having to hold off on a purchase I really wanted so I can write a check to the IRS. The fact of the matter is, if I had to write the check right now, despite the mortgage payment I have to make in a week, I could do it and not have to do without.

We've been really blessed this year. And I'm trying to keep that in mind and not be focused on the bitterness of the unfairness of having an avalanche of expenses coming at us all at once. With every bill that comes because insurance covers less and less, I am thankful that we have insurance, and that our family is healthy. I'm paying my taxes and am grateful that I can. Just a few years ago, this tax bill would have crippled us financially.  I look at my home, and I am grateful that I have a home. I'm especially grateful that our house payment is quite a bit less than it was, even though our new mortgage holder has been horrible to work with. I'm grateful we have good-paying jobs.

Where it all leaves me is here- the more I count the blessings, the less I am bothered by the cost. When I look at the seeming dark moments of today, I remember the darker moments of the past, and I am so grateful for where we are now. I can't begin to express how overwhelmingly grateful I feel for the wonderful things in my life. I sit here and say over and over, "thank you God," knowing it is not enough to express this overflowing gratitude in my life, yet I can't find any other words. I pray that if things in my life become dark again, I will remember the power of gratitude.

In the midst of your trials, what have you found to be grateful for?

Is Rob Bell really my enemy?

Some of my friends may be convinced I'm going to hell for saying this. But as I see the new flurry over Rob Bell, a controversial pastor who has now endorsed gay marriage, I find myself in a weird place. It bothers me less that Rob Bell has come out in favor of gay marriage than do people's responses to it. I am appalled at the mean, hateful posts people are putting out there because of his opinion. Okay, I get it. He's a popular teacher who's written a lot of books. Our church used to watch a lot of his videos. Then he started saying things people thought were controversial, and now people treat him like he's a tool of the devil.

I should confess that I haven't read his books. I have a couple I've been meaning to read, but that's the story of half the books I own. I've watched some of his Nooma videos. I've read articles about him and I've heard people ripping him to shreds over his opinions. Many of those people haven't read his books either.

Why do we feel like we're experts on the spirituality of a man we don't know?

More importantly, why do we feel it's our right to lash out in angry judgment because we don't agree with what he's said? Why are our responses full of hate?

I think I would respect the people who disagree with Rob Bell more if they said, "Whoa. Rob, I love you man, but I think you're wrong on this one, and here's why." Why don't we do that- to Rob- and to anyone else who challenges our tightly held theological beliefs?

Regardless of whether or not his position is right, Rob is a child of God whose sins Jesus died for just as much as anyone else's. Some people may be in shock over this, but Jesus died for Republicans and Democrats alike. He even died for those who don't affiliate themselves with a political party. He died for people we don't agree with. He died for people we don't like. He died for the people who are mean to us.

I even believe that Jesus had the audacity to die for Rob Bell. He loves Rob. He loves Rob when he's wrong. He loves Rob when he's right. Someday, when Jesus and Rob sit face to face, they're probably going to talk about those things. As much as I want to say I know how that conversation will go, I don't. None of us do.

But here's the conversation I will be a part of, and how I imagine it going:

Him: "Danica, you messed up on a lot of things."
Me: "Yes, Lord, I know."
Him: "When I said X, did you really think I meant Y?"
Me: "Uh... sorry?"
Him: "I forgive you."
Me: "Thanks."
Him: "Now let's talk about what you did right."
Me: "Sweet."
Him: "Thanks for loving the least of my children."
Me: "Uh... you're welcome? Who were they?"

The trouble is, I don't know who "they" are. I have a really hard time loving my enemies. I have a hard time thinking charitably toward people I consider crackheads (the bad kind, of course). I am not always nice to people I should be nice to. I call people bad names in traffic. I yell at my kids. I snap at people when I'm tired or stressed or irritated. I say mean things mostly without intending to, but sometimes I'm just being mean. So I know I don't always do it right. I probably mess up more than I succeed.

That said, I try really hard not to publicly tear someone down. As a Christian, it's not my job to post a million blogs about the people I think are going to hell. Nor is it my job to let the world know who I think is sinning. There's enough sin in my own life, thanks. If you love the sinner but hate the sin, I don't think it means attacking that person- verbally, Tweetally, or otherwise.

If you posted something bad about Rob Bell, please know this isn't personally directed at you. I saw at least 50+ posts that made my heart hurt. I know you're trying to spread the truth the best you can. But I implore you, please take a moment to ask God to share his love for Rob with you. Maybe you aren't posting mean things about Rob. Maybe your hot button is one of the other many controversial issues floating out there. Will you think about how your words can reflect love instead of hate?

Rob Bell is not my enemy. People who attack Rob Bell are not my enemy. My enemy is hate. And as much as it makes my heart hurt to see the hate floating around cyberspace, I'm trying to do my very best to respond in love.

Will you join me?

 

Using what I have

[caption id="attachment_4275" align="alignleft" width="224"] I have over 50 varieties of tea stashed in here. It's getting harder and harder to find a place for all of my teas.[/caption]

One of my priorities lately has been to do a better job of using what I have instead of buying new. We have so much stuff! So I'm starting to take inventory of what I have and seeing how I can use it up, making room for new, or, having a fresh place for everything to go.

Tea is one of my biggest weaknesses- and biggest delights. It's also the go-to gift idea when someone who knows me wants to buy me something. Unfortunately, it also means that I have way too much tea! And I realized that I don't drink most of it! I have my few daily standbys and only rarely do I drink something else. One of my favorite teas is Ginger Peach by Republic of Tea. I drink it almost every day. When I ran out about a week ago, I thought, "oh no, I have to go buy more." Which is funny because I have about a million varieties of tea in my house.

Instead, I made a pledge to myself. No more new tea until I drink what I already have. The only exception to this is my bedtime teas, and that's because there are few nighttime teas that don't have chamomile, which I am allergic to. I've only found two teas that really work for me at night, so when I'm out of them, I can buy more. Everything else- NO NEW TEA!

I've dug into boxes of tea people sent me as gifts. Some were amazing! A few were duds. I rediscovered new favorites, and mourned when I drank the last cup. I've found a few teas that I wanted to save because they were so good, I didn't want to say goodbye. Now, they are stale, and I wish I had drank it when it was fresh. Slowly, I am working through my tea collection, drinking it up.

[caption id="attachment_4274" align="alignright" width="300"] My Tea station, where I keep my hot water boiler, teas I drink most often, sweeteners, and hot drinks for the kids.[/caption]

The only thing I don't know what to do about is the teas I don't like. I realized that I have a number of varieties sitting in my cupboard that I purchased, had a few cups, and really don't care for. Do I give them to friends, hoping they like them better? Do I throw them away? To me, that seems like a waste, because I've spent a lot of money on these teas. What would you do?

I'm finding a lot of joy in enjoying the teas that I have, saving money by not buying more tea, and feeling a sense of freedom as I clean out my cupboards.

Maybe you don't have a vast collection of tea. But is there something in your house, in your life, that you could be using up instead of hoarding?

I hope you'll consider using it up and enjoying it. Savor your tea (or whatever it is) before it gets stale.

 

My beautifully imperfect house

I admit to being one of those women who look at decorating magazines, model homes, and YES! I am addicted to Pinterest because I secretly dream of having a beautiful perfectly put together house. Nowhere in my Dream Home board will you find that stray dirty sock my Princess can't seem to pick up (and I refuse to do it for her). On a good day, my house won't be raided by the health department, but some days, you'd need hazmat team to get through it. Even when we have company, my house is always imperfect. I know women whose houses are always perfect, even with kids. But to be honest, I never quite feel comfortable in their homes. I mean, yes, I love looking at how beautiful everything is, and sure, I'd like that for myself.

Except...

Here is what I'd be missing out on:

 

Back when the Princess was back in preschool, she made one of those ghastly macaroni pictures that seems to be standard preschool curriculum. She brought it home and insisted on displaying it. On my sliding glass door. But how does a mom say no to that? I said yes. One time, I tried taking it down to wash the sliding glass door (ours is always gross- dogs, kids, and I don't have to clean it daily), and she was really hurt that I took down her picture. I promised to put it back on, and so I did.

A couple years later, in Kindergarten, the butterfly in the picture appeared. It is faux stained glass, aka tissue paper, and therefore, according to my sweet girl, must be on a window. Who can argue with that logic?

About a year ago, the macaroni project bit the dust. It kept falling off and getting damaged, so I convinced her to put it in her special picture file. Every time I tried to clean the door or thought about doing something with the butterfly, I just couldn't bear to part with it. The butterfly had become just as an important part of my decor as any fancy thing I could have found in a magazine.

Then yesterday after school, I saw her on the couch, clipboard on her lap, her hands busy with crayons. I asked what she was making, and she said it was a quilt. She worked for two hours, deep in an artistic trance. Later that evening, she called me to the sliding glass door, excited, but with trepidation in her eyes. "Look what I did." I could tell she was half afraid I wouldn't like it, worried that I might ask her to take it down, but I thought about her macaroni picture, and about the other pieces of art I'll occasionally find taped around my house.

My kids are artists. No, the art won't win any prizes or be featured in a gallery, but it's their art. And the grin she gave me when I said, "I love it," is priceless.

As long as I have kids (and hopefully someday, grandkids), I will never have a perfect house. I will do things to try to make it nicer, cleaner, and replicate some of the things I see in magazines and Pinterest. In the end, though, I accept the fact that my home has funny things like random pictures hung in places you don't usually think to hang pictures. But that's okay, because to me, it's beautiful

What do our assumptions say about us?

I had a weird run-in at a store over the weekend. I was shopping with my daughter, and she'd gone to another rack to look at Halloween costumes. I went to join her, and I passed by two women. One of the women said something like, "which ones are on sale," or something similar, but I assumed she was talking to the other lady. When I reached my daughter, however, the lady raised her voice and started commenting about how young people these days are so rude and won't answer people when they speak to them and how they think they're better than everyone else.

Being slightly preoccupied with the fact that I was with a child who needed my attention, I wasn't fully aware of everything this lady was saying. She was very loudly going on and on about how rude people will get what's coming to them, and on and on. Because this lady was being so loud and obnoxious in her carrying on, I couldn't hear what my daughter wanted, so I finally took her by the hand, and moved away.

Which is when it hit me.

The woman was complaining about me.

I have to admit, it really bothered me that I had a stranger literally raining down curses on me because I didn't answer her question. I am not a rude person. I typically go out of my way to be polite, especially to strangers. But I'm also a very non-confrontational person, so I really didn't want to go talk to her. Even across the store, I could hear this woman loudly complain about young women who think they're better than everyone else. I've learned through painful experience not to engage crazy people, and based on the curses she was calling down, I was pretty sure that engaging was a bad idea.

As I shopped another section of the store (okay, I was really hiding from her so that I could go check out and not hear about what a horrible person I was for not answering her question- which would have been "I don't know, sorry."), I started to think about this woman. She didn't know me, and yet, she automatically assumed that my lack of response was that I thought I was better than her. In truth, I honestly thought she was speaking to another person (who was an elderly lady), AND, I was in a hurry to get to my daughter (who looked like she was about to make a mess).  I admit, maybe I should have gone to the lady when I realized that she felt slighted by me and said, "look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," and then explained my side of things.

Which, of course, led to me analyzing why I cared so much that some strange lady in the store was cursing me. And when I say cursing, I don't mean saying bad words, I mean she was literally saying that I should be cursed for my actions. Because I know who I am in Christ, I know that another person's curses mean nothing. But it bothered me so much that I prayed for this lady as I waited for my daughter to try on her Halloween costume. That's when I realized that this woman's words said far more about her than they did about me.

I believe this woman is an unhappy person who sees a lot of negative in the world around her. Her first assumption about a stranger is negative. I tend to be negative in my assumptions, but in her shoes, I would have thought that the person I asked didn't hear me. So what would the life of someone more negative than I look like? Maybe I'm guilty of making wrong assumptions about her, but I felt sorry for her. That her assumption about me was that I thought I was better than her said a lot about how she saw herself. She must think that she's not worth a whole lot if her judgement of others is that they think they're better. And that made me sad. What made me more sad, though, was realizing that in such an assessment is a deep level of pride. Of wanting to be elevated just as high or higher than someone else. If she didn't want that, she wouldn't have needed to loudly proclaim her disapproval of a stranger. And in so proclaiming, she told the world that she thought she was better than me.

In judging, this woman became exactly what she was complaining about.

Which made me realize that so many of the things I complain about are often flaws in my own character. When I assume something negative about a person without talking to them to learn the truth, I'm merely reflecting the flaws in me. My own insecurities. My own fears. My own idols. I can assume a lot of things about people, but those assumptions are probably not very fair. And, as I struggled with being bothered by this woman's assumptions about me, I realized that I probably make negative assumptions about people more often than I should.

I wish I had an ending to this post, like, "this is what you should do to get over it," but you know what? I don't have that answer. I wish I knew how to be better at not assuming negative things- or even assuming at all. I do think that being aware, and recognizing that our assumptions aren't always true, is a good start.

What do your assumptions say about you?

Blessing your family with your imperfections

As a recovering perfectionist, I've had to let go of the need for everything to be just perfect. If you've followed my gardening journey, you'd know that I've allowed myself to do a lot of it imperfectly. And if you're not a gardener, that's okay... because so much of what I've learned can be applied to you as well.



My princess loves corn. When I planted the garden last year, she begged for corn, so I planted it, but I didn't know when to harvest it, so the evil squirrels got to it before I could. No corn for us last year. So this year, I planted corn again, and despite reading things about corn, I really had no idea when to harvest. But with the coming frost, I had to decide- pick the corn or leave it for the squirrels. I chose to pick the corn.



The corn we picked was small and not well-developed. I'm not sure what went wrong, but I realized that even the small amount we got from our garden would be enough for dinner. The little one loved eating the corn that we grew. It didn't matter that it wasn't pretty or that the ears were tiny and misshapen. My daughter now has the memory that her mommy planted corn for her, and we got to eat that corn, and it was delicious.



I'm so glad that I didn't let last year's corn failure keep me from trying again. I won't win any prizes or be on any master gardener shows, or even be the go-to girl for gardening advice. But I do have a little girl who got to have a really cool experience.



What have you been afraid to try because you don't think you'll do a good job?

 

There's just not enough preparation

I am a warm person. When I say warm, I mean that I always like to be warm. Unfortunately, I tend to be cold most of the time. When we swing into fall and winter, I'm always sad because I know that I'm going to be cold- soon.

So when the weather report said it would snow Saturday and that it would get really cold Thursday night, I prepared. I brought in the produce that would get ruined, and I covered my garden to keep it going just a little bit longer.

As you can see, I got a nice selection of things. Yum!! I'm thinking there may be some zucchini bread in our family's future. :)

 

Imagine my horror when I woke up this morning to this:



Yes, friends, that icky white stuff is known as snow. Snow that we weren't supposed to get until SATURDAY. It's FRIDAY. I needed that extra day to mentally prepare.  Even though the snow is already gone, I'm still sad because it means that I am finally forced to face the reality that my warm days really are leaving.

So to cope, I'm making chili in the crockpot.

How do you cope with changes in the weather?

Time to get political... and think!

I'm fairly intentional about not getting political in public. I've got too many online friends on both sides who tend to make jerks of themselves and alienate the other side with their political comments. If you're looking to read that Obama is the antichrist or that Romney will end democracy as we know it, you should probably find some other blog to read. I don't think people on either side are stupid. In fact, I'm getting tired of educated adults calling people names because they happen to think differently than others. I wish I'd thought to make copies of the different infographics going around. I'm amazed at how many of the Republican ones look almost exactly like the Democrat ones, and how they've both used the same distorted figures to prove opposite things.

A lot of my friends are saying that this election, they are voting for the lesser of two evils. I graduated with a degree in Political Science, so I totally understand this. I've always heard the philosophy that a vote for a third party is a wasted vote, because no third party will ever get elected. But I'm starting to question if that's really true. If so many people are merely voting for the lesser of two evils, what if we voted based on who we really want in office, regardless of political affiliation? Right now, this is just a question of "what if." I actually don't know if it would change things or not. But I've heard so many people argue that voting for a third party takes away from what could have been a win for the primary candidates, so why couldn't that logic work in reverse? Could enough people not vote for the two main parties that the rest of the population takes someone else seriously?

I don't know. I'm honestly just tossing ideas out there right now. But I'm tired of not feeling like I have a choice and not voting my true conscience. Before I vote, I'm going to take some time to do some serious thinking. I have great respect for all of my friends on all sides of the debate, and as I continue my own research into my decision, I hope everyone can continue in that respectful discussion.

So I've been researching... examining the candidates, and doing my homework. I found a quiz that I thought was very informative, so I thought I'd share.

http://www.isidewith.com/presidential-election-quiz?from=46400048

 

Embracing different talents

The thing I love most about my little girls is that they've taught me to appreciate different talents far more than I ever could have imagined. Growing up, I was always the one who was different, and didn't fit in with any of my family. I always wished I could be more like them, more of what they wanted me to be, and yet, I was just... me.

So when I was blessed with two little girls who were like me in some ways, but really different in others, I decided to embrace them. I love them for their differences and their different talents.



This is my princess.  She has two main goals in life: 1. To be a varsity cheerleader, and 2. To be a singer on stage. In this picture, she's living her dream because the part you don't see are the varsity cheerleaders around her doing their routine. Her dance instructor is a cheer coach at one of the local high schools, so my little one gets to meet lots of cheerleaders. You also don't see that she is on a stage, and after her routine, she was up there, dancing and singing.  She is learning to play the piano, and even though she'd much rather sing, we're hoping that this will teach her the notes and the discipline needed to be everything she wants.

I never signed up to be the mother of a singing cheerleader. My friends and I groan at the thought of being cheer moms, but we never do it in a way that discourages our girls' dreams. And who knows, maybe one day, she'll have a hit like "Call Me Maybe," her favorite song, and my friends and I can laugh about these days while sitting on the beach, drinking Mojitos.

 



This is my cowgirl. She's the one standing on the horse and waving. Her dream involves breeding and training horses. We spend 2-3 days a week at the arena, where she takes care of horses, rides, and hangs out with her horse buddies. I never thought I'd say this, but hopefully someday, we'll have a place where we can own our own horses so she can spend every day living her dream.

If you know me, you know that I'm not terribly fond of horses. Scratch that. I like horses just fine. But they stink, they poop, and I'm allergic to both them and hay. So to have a horse-loving daughter is a pretty interesting experience. I could let hubby take her to her rides every week, or like many parents there, drop her off with a kiss, and go about my business. But let me let you in on a little secret. There is something magical about watching my daughter ride. I come home every Saturday exhausted and barely able to breathe. But the big grin on her face makes it worth it.

I think about how I have such different little girls, and how much joy they bring to my life. Sure, there are a million other things I could be doing besides listening to my little one play "Fuzzy Wuzzy" a thousand times a day. (I wish that were an exaggeration.) I'd love to attend more local writer's groups that meet on Saturdays when my daughter rides.

But one day, they will be gone... hopefully one will be touring the world like the diva she is, and the other will be on top of a mountain somewhere, riding her horse. Or maybe these are just phases my kids will have outgrown, and they'll be doing other things. Either way, I hope I've given them the tools they need to succeed. I hope I've communicated to them that it's okay to be different, and that I embrace who they are. Even the smelly parts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The posts I'm afraid to write...

I've been having a quiet spiritual crisis over the past few weeks. Not in a bad way, or even in a way that has me questioning my faith. I've talked to a few friends about it, and I've been praying about it. But today, in church, after listening to the pastor preach about being obedient to God's call, I realized that it's time to share what I've been thinking about.

There's a lot going on in my head, and in my heart, about faith these days, and things I want to say. Things I'm afraid to say to anyone except my closest friends. I know that if I say it publicly, some people will be happy about my words, but a lot of others will be mad. I've faced enough rejection in my life that I don't want to say a bunch of stuff that'll make people mad. Which is a safe way to live, I guess, but it's not very honest.

The truth is, I'm angry. And I'm hurt. And I'm caught in this place of trying to reconcile a faith and a God that I love with a bunch of people who act like jerks in God's name. I don't think they mean to be jerks. I think that they think, in their own way, that they're doing what God wants them to do.

So I'm going to be more honest... and I'm going to talk about the real things going on in my heart that I've been afraid to share. I'm sorry if it pisses anyone off. But if I want to live more like Jesus, then I can't be afraid of upsetting people. If he'd given in to that fear, would we be here today?

In the spirit of sharing the things I'm afraid to share, here's the thought that's keeping me up tonight: Today, some nutcase shot up a Sikh temple. Not one of my friends, Christian or not, has posted any sympathies or anything to indicate that they care. One person did post a scathing comment blaming it on intolerant Christians- but that's it. (And I find the intolerance comment offensive, BTW. Not only has it not been said that whoever did it was a Christian, but let's not use one person's actions as an excuse to attack an entire religion. That's what causes hate crimes to begin with.) When Aurora shooting tragedy happened a couple weeks ago, my Facebook was filled with posts from all sorts of people upset over the tragedy. Why aren't we all more upset over this shooting?

Today, families lost people they dearly love. There is a community of people devastated by a horrible crime. I really don't care that they aren't Christians. They are human beings, and God loves them just as much as He loves us. I've never been one of those people who goes out and tries to comfort shooting victims. I'm not really good at that. But right now, I'm so angry that we're not more angry about yet another shooting, that if I lived in their community, I'd be bringing them meals or whatever you do in these situations. I am a Christian woman, and I love that Sikh community just as much as I love anyone else. God loves them too.

Compassion isn't just about loving people who are like us, but it's about daring to reach out to those who are different, and accepting them anyway.  I have yet to find any information about donations to help those affected by this tragedy, but I personally plan on doing what I can to help. I hope you will consider doing the same.

 

The lie of perfection

[caption id="attachment_1952" align="alignleft" width="300"] I wanted to take a perfect picture of a flower, and ended up with a blurry mess. But the more I look at it, the more I realize how beautiful it is.[/caption]

Part of why I haven't been consistent with my blogging lately is a lot of the same reason I haven't put my website out there yet. I have this crazy thought that until it's perfect, until I'm perfect, I can't put it out there. I've been doing a Bible study on the lies we believe, and that crazy thought of being perfect, well, that's one of them. I'm not perfect, and I never will be. Neither will you, or anyone else. But we get caught up in that lie and it makes us crazy.

When I started knitting, and I was frustrated with my lack of progress, a friend told me a story of how Jewish women intentionally put a mistake in their work because it can't be perfect. Only God is perfect, therefore they shouldn't even attempt to be.  As I look at my struggle with perfection, I wonder how much easier my life would be if I lived like that...

Now, I'm not talking about taking the attitude of saying, "I'm not perfect, never will be, so I'm going to go out and sin all I want to."  But what if I gave myself grace moments every day, like instead of yelling at my kids to pick up their stuff as I answer the door for an unexpected guest (because God forbid someone actually sees what an awful mess my house gets to be), I let the person in- and I let them accept me for who I really am. Because yes, I desperately dream of having a perfectly clean house. Some days, I'm really good at it. Other days, I live in fear that social services will take my kids away because it looks like really bad things happened here. Maybe, if someone sees that my house is not a perfect show home, maybe they'll accept that theirs doesn't have to be either.

Because if I were to sum up my mission and purpose for sharing on Twitter, Facebook, and my blog, that's really it. You are not alone in your struggles. I am struggling right there with you. There are two people I really admire who've said similar things- Lisa Samson, who says that she writes so "that people will know that they are not alone"; and Michele Cushatt, who has this great thing she says on her website, "I'm with you." I should mention that some things Camy Tang has said to me privately also inspire me in this vein, but she hasn't shared publicly, so I won't. But she's awesome, too, so she needs a shout-out. :)

I mention these people, not because I want to be another Lisa Samson, Michele Cushatt, or Camy Tang. They all have incredible messages, but they aren't me, and I'm not them. I'm living my own imperfect life. In revealing those imperfections, and sharing the truths I learn along the way, maybe someone out there will find a bit of extra strength and courage to get through that next place because someone is right there with them.

Will I do it perfectly? Nope. I hereby offer you the 100% guarantee that I'm going to mess up. I apologize in advance. But I'm done living the lie that I can some how, some way, be perfect.

How about you? Are you fighting a battle against the lie of perfection? How do you deal with it?

 

 

Welcome to my new site!!

I've been working on my new site for several months now. It's been live, but I haven't moved the blog entirely over because well, I'm just not fully satisfied with it. I paid to have someone do it, and unfortunately, due to some communication errors on both sides, they never finished it to my satisfaction. So I've been messing with it, trying to make the things that I don't like work, and I've kept working on trying to make it more perfect.

But then, Michael Hyatt posted something on his blog where he encouraged people to Embrace Permanent Beta and Launch... So, Mike, if I can call you that, this one's for you. Thanks for making me finally accept that it's not going to be perfect, and I need to just do it already.

So here it is... my imperfect website that's probably a better reflection of me than something perfectly shiny and wonderful. There's so much I still want to do with it, but for now, it is what it is. To be honest, that's pretty much who I am as a person and a writer. I'm doing the best I can with what I have, and hoping to improve, but in the meantime, I'm enjoying the journey.

Take a look around, let me know what you think, and in the coming months, we'll see this place evolve. Or not. And that's okay.

The Great American Holiday

Yesterday, for the first time in I don't know how many years, I watched the Super Bowl. Be afraid. Before you think that I woke up and turned into some kind of football loving fanatic, let me clarify to say that our small group at church had a Super Bowl party, and in the spirit of community and doing new things, we went. I would also like to say that I enjoyed myself. It isn't that I hate football or have anything against it, I just usually have better things to do with my time than watch it or any other sport. Sorry, that's just me.

For the great event, I started a new knitting project. I think I overstepped my knitting ability ever so slightly, but I think it'll turn out okay anyway. The good news is that when I hit the "I'm so over my head that I am going to start megacussing" part of the project, the game was over and we went home. But because I am one of those driven people who CAN'T ACCEPT FAILURE EVER, I had to fix the problem. Which led to watching Glee for the first time. (Not bad, but it won't be on my must-see TV list.) Then, the news. I thought about turning it off, but that would have meant putting down my project, potentially leading to a mistake and A LOT MORE cussing.

On the news, the sports guy gave this monologue about how the real great American holiday is the Super Bowl. That really, of all the things we celebrate, the Super Bowl is the most important. After I recovered from the shock which led me to jabbing myself with a needle (I'm starting to think I shouldn't use metal needles), I thought about what he said, and I have to grudgingly admit that he is right. Which makes me really sad.

As Americans (and I'm speaking in generalities here), we tend to place more importance on our sporting events than we do on other things. Yes, we celebrate the Fourth of July, but does it mean anything to anyone other than a day off work and a chance to party with friends? When was the last time your friends painted their bodies to show how grateful they are to their forefathers for being willing to risk everything for your chance at freedom? Sure, we celebrate Christmas and Easter, but are we moved to tears at the glory of the coming of our Lord? Do we weep at the knowledge of letting our God down the way Ben Roethlisberger did at letting his team down?

For the most part, we put more into our favorite sporting events than we invest into the things that are real and have lasting impact. How many lives were changed because X team won the Super Bowl eighteen years ago? I could Google it, and maybe even some people could name the teams without looking it up. But were lives changed? This is the Great American Holiday, people, and we aren't doing anything with it that matters.

One of the people at the party noticed that the announcers' lapels all seemed to feature a pin supporting the Make a Wish Foundation. But it seemed sad to me that it wasn't overtly explained (which I admit, we could have missed in our chatter during the game), and that the viewers weren't invited to take part in something that could have been meaningful. Can you imagine what it would have looked like if the Super Bowl wasn't just about football, but about doing something good for others?

I'm not against the Super Bowl. I don't think it's evil. But I do think we're missing an opportunity. I don't like that our local newscaster had a point- the Super Bowl is probably the truest reflection of our culture and what it's about. Which makes me really sad. And it makes me rethink the things I do celebrate and why I celebrate them. My hope, in the coming year, is that as each holiday approaches, I am able to put it in the proper perspective.

Which holidays do you think are out of perspective? What do you do to keep them in proper perspective?