Jesus is my home-boy – Angel Wheeler

Water-Walking in the Storm

WHOOSH.
The sound of the wind being sucked from our sails. The rug being pulled from under our feet. The breath knocked from our lungs.

It happens. This life has a way of sometimes catching us off guard. Sometimes it’s when we’re rocking along, with everything going our way, and then WHOOSH. Or maybe it’s when things have just started to look up, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and then WHOOSH. That new job has come along, or that tax refund just hit the mailbox, or that relationship has blossomed into promise. Then WHOOSH. Without warning we’re blindsided.

Blindsided by the whoosh. The bad news. The unexpected turn of events. The loss of something we inevitably were taking for granted. No one is immune from the storms and trials our existence on planet Earth delivers. If you are a human being and breathing air, you are going to feel the whoosh of life. It certainly doesn’t take anyone long for that realization to sink in. Storms come. They come in all sizes. From the small drizzle to the devastation of a tsunami.

I am a glass half full girl. I believe in hope. I see the Promise land. Deliverance from the desert. Rest for the weary. Rainbows after storms. Resurrection after death. Promises fulfilled. We don’t have to stay stuck in our storms. One thing I know, storms are temporary.

My desire is to be a water-walker. I want to be like Peter, who when in the midst, (IN THE MIDST, not when facing it or after it was over, but in the smackdab middle) of his storm, put his eyes on Jesus and walked on water. While the waves beat and the wind howled and while his robe and beard blew in the gust and the water splashed upward and crashed into his face, while the rain stung his eyes, while all that was happening— he kept his gaze on Jesus Christ and walked on the water toward him.

Are you going through a storm? A trial? Has the wind been sucked from your sails? Has the rug been pulled out from under your feet? Are you gasping for breath?

There’s only one thing to do.

Keep your eyes on Jesus. Do not focus on the problems. Focus on the provider. He will make a way when there seems to be no way.
What happened when Peter noticed the wind all around and put his focus on the storm? He began to sink. But immediately Jesus was there to save him. Our savior is here. Walking toward us in our storms. Take comfort in that.

Nothing catches him by surprise. Jesus doesn’t feel the Whoosh of life. Just as He knew the storm would come and he sent the disciples out anyway, he also knew they would make it to the other side. He knows the storm that surrounds you. He sees you straining. He sees your toil. He is walking toward you, ready to assist you. He knows you will make it to the other side.

Look up. Lift your chin. Keep your eyes on Jesus. He who is the master of the storms. He who walks on water. He who braves all the storms and comes toward us when we are afraid.

He will rescue us when we cry out to him.

Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble; He saved them out of their distresses. Psalm 107:19

His Eyes Are on the Lilacs, And I Know He Cares For Me!

We left the arid, drought drenched plains of the Texas panhandle at the beginning of 2013 and moved to the majestic mountains of New Mexico.

It was nothing short of a complete leap of faith. There was not a job bringing us here. There was very little family here to support us. It was a dream of J-Dub’s to live here and so we shut our eyes and leapt knowing that “the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest”. Amen? Whithersoever. Doesn’t the old KJV just say it good sometimes?

Beauty surrounds us here. Snow capped mountain tops, fields of flowers, tall pines, rolling streams, abundant wild life. That first spring of 2013 arrived and I was awed by the sight of the lilac bushes that surrounded our property. And I do mean surrounded. They are monstrous bushes, standing well over 10 feet tall and lined up in a row, bumping into each other. I was so anticipating the arrival of all these purple bursts of flowers, that I blogged about it here. Yet, I was left disappointed when a late freeze blasted the buds. The next spring, once again, those tiny purple buds appeared and I held my breath only to be disappointed once again when Old Man Winter blew his icy breath on them.

Earlier this year, JDub and I made a very difficult decision that it would be the best fit for our family if we returned home. Yes, to that arid drought drenched Texas Panhandle. We must wait until school is finished, so this will be our last Spring time here. Of course, I started a list of things I would miss about this place. Of course on that list is all the things that make is so beautiful.

Right before Easter, the many lilac bushes once again showed their promise, but I didn’t hold my breath. We drove back to Texas for the Easter break and my last thoughts as we pulled out of the driveway and I gazed upon the massive bushes were, “oh well. If they do bloom, they’ll be spent by the time we return.” No faith. No faith at all on my part. Sometimes prior disappointments squash it, don’t they? We don’t want to be disappointed again. In people. In circumstances. Instead we prepare ourselves for it not to happen instead of looking toward it. Where is our hope? We replace our hope with “realism”.

But lo and behold, when we pulled back in several days later, I was met with an awesome welcoming! Those purple (and one bush of white) lilacs were in bloom and greeting me. They were happy, I could tell it. Every blossom oozed happiness. I was overjoyed! I began laughing and whooping and clapping before I ever got out of the car.

The past several weeks the bushes have bloomed and bloomed. Their aromas have washed over me filling me with memories and pleasure. We have brought some inside and placed them in Mason jars. Now, I’m sad to say they are at the end of their blooming season.

But I’m so glad I got to experience them, this last spring I have to live here.

It’s God you know. Of course it is. He has a way of caring about what we care about, even little things like lilacs, which I dare to argue aren’t little things.

Now that I’m a parent, I kind of, sort of, in my very limited human capacity understand the graciousness of God a teeny tiny bit more. My little girl is the apple of my eye and I long to lavish things upon her. Just for her enjoyment. Just for the sheer reason that it will make her happy. And of course I’m reminded of Matthew 7:11 that tell us,

“If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?”

Isn’t that an awesome thing? All we have to do is ask and then believe. He knows what we need even before we ask. He wants to give to us. He is not one that holds back, in fact he GAVE his one and only son that whosoever believeth in Him shall have everlasting Life. John 3:16

He GAVE the ultimate gift. Our God is a gracious giver. He will give us what we need.

Phillipians 4:19 And my God will supply every need of yours according to His riches in Christ Jesus.

Why do we worry about our needs when we can call upon the God of the World, the Creator of all, the one who tells the lilacs when and where to bloom to help us?

Is there something you are consumed with? Are you worrying about a detail of this life?

Read again Matthew 25-32 and be reassured. “That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing? Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are? Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?

“And why worry about your clothing? Look at the lilies of the field and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?

“So don’t worry about these things, saying, ‘What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’ These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers, but your heavenly Father already knows all your needs.

Friends, I am preaching to myself! Since deciding to move back to our hometown, J-Dub and I have experienced quite a few roadblocks. We have worried. We have fretted. We have doubted. I have wondered if God is going to come through. But I can tell you, when I think about my past and I think about the things He has done, and I read the promises from His word, I can affirmatively answer that Yes, he will come through. He has yet to let me down.

It’s the original work of Satan, to lie to us and to make us doubt God’s word. Recognize it as such. When Adam and Eve were in the garden, wasn’t that the words of the Serpent? He began with “Did God really say………” He planted enough doubt in Eve’s heart that she sinned.

Yet we are told that the promises of God are Yes and Amen. We are told that those who believe in Him will not be made ashamed. Look and see that the Lord is good. He will come through for you. He will come through for me.

So open your arms and receive my friends.

Be blessed!

How Facebook Made Me Lose Ground

For the past six months I’ve been off of Facebook. It has been with its ups and downs. I’m sometimes out of the loop (not always a bad thing.) I’m sometimes starved for interaction and attention by people who are over the age of three. The longer I’ve gone, the easier it has gotten, but some days I miss it like I miss other things I’ve given up. But missing something doesn’t always mean it was good for you and that you should invite it back in your life. You can just miss it and that’s okay.

Yesterday evening my husband shared a thread with me on Facebook concerning the Superbowl Half time show. The comments were entertaining and I felt a longing. An absence. A true loss for my friends and family that I rarely if ever talk to anymore.

“Maybe I should get back on,” I said. I tossed the idea around a little while and then before you know it, I logged back into my account. “I’ll just lurk,” I said. “No one has to know I’m here.” Because after all, the addiction for me came with the attention I received from comments or status updates. I was always wanting to check and see if I had a notification. Had someone liked something? Had someone commented?

I began my reintroduction to Facebook by reading my news feed; which was uneventful. Then I jumped around to different people’s pages to see what they had going in their life. One thing I saw would make me want to check out something else and I was reading and lurking to my heart’s content. It literally sucked probably two and a half hours of my evening from me. Two and a half hours where I would be doing something else. Something, quite frankly, that mattered.

The dishes didn’t get done. My daughter didn’t get put to bed until way late and was hyped up like no other. I didn’t write in my gratitude journal. (something I’ve been diligent about) nor did I read my devotion.) It seriously wrecked my evening. I was out of sorts. Yet I still told myself that it was harmless and I’d just keep my account activated anyway, and try to control it. I wouldn’t let it get out of hand. I would only be a lurker. For a while anyway.

Leaving the Facebook story, but I’ll be back:

For the past six weeks I’ve been really trying to retrain my thoughts. There has been quite a bit of “stuff” going on in my life. I have been sick since before Christmas and then the day after Christmas, Ashlynn was put in the hospital again, three hours away from home. I was with her, which meant I was away from my family and it was brutal on me.

During this time, I became mad at God but needed something to help me. I was feeling lots of toxic emotions that weren’t serving anyone. I reacquainted myself with Louise Hay, a woman who has helped many with healing and positive philosophy. If you’re not familiar with her, and are interested in what I’m about to say, I would recommend you look up her website or check out her book You Can Heal Your Life. Basically her ideas follow along with the Law of Attraction; simply what you think, say, and believe is what will be manifested in your life. She teaches you how to become very aware of your thoughts and to notice how many times you berate yourself or are pessimistic or critical of yourself. Something I was doing a lot.

A person thinks between 50,000-70,000 thoughts a day and usually they are the same ones over and over, day after day. Instead of criticizing yourself: I’m too fat. I’m lazy. I never finish what I start. That will never happen for me. I never have enough money etc, the idea is to change these negative affirmations to positive affirmations and your life will change, because the Universe will bring you what you say.

So I’ve been doing it y’all. Diligently. I tell myself I love myself everyday. I approve of myself. I am a capable person. I speak positive things when I catch myself being negative or critical of myself or others. My affirmations change daily because what I feel changes daily. So sometimes I may repeat over and over “I deserve to be happy” and another day it may be “doors are opening for me”.

When I began, I truly shocked myself by the amount of negative and critical thoughts that rolled through my mind; about myself and others. I can tell you that I believe it has helped me. It has helped my self-esteem, my attitude, my level of contentment. It has given me a new perspective.

After delving into Louise Hay, I then started exploring related teachers. The next one being Wayne Dyer. His teaching follows along with the same idea of what you put out into the Universe will come back to you, good or bad. I happened to have his book as well. From where it came, I do not know, which to me was just a sign that I am heading in the right direction. The book I currently read of his is called Wisdom of the Ages. It is a compilation of insightful and enlightened teachers from the history of the world and their writings. People like Michelangelo, Francis of Assisi, Buddha and Jesus Christ. It covers topics of the heart: hope, meditation, wisdom, love and what these teachers from the past had to say about them that is still relevant to us today.

Now, before I go further I want to stop here and say for all those that are concerned about my soul and that I am on the road to hell, may I reassure you I’m okay. I am not lost. I know that this post may sound a little “out there” and even my sister has gently encouraged me to not turn into a kook and get too weird. I’m no longer mad at God. The truth is I couldn’t NOT talk to him. I love my Lord Jesus. But my spiritual walk is broadening, I like to believe. I think there may be more out there than what I’ve been brought up to believe. Not that the Bible is a lie. No way. But that perhaps denominations have put their focus on rules rather than love. Scriptures have been taken out of context and too much emphasis has been put on sin and repentance, rather than love and acceptance. I believe the Bible speaks of the law of attraction as well. Ask and it shall be given, knock and the door shall be opened, seek and ye shall find. The power of life and death is in the tongue. You reap what you sow.

Louise Hay compares the process of changing our thoughts to seed planting. That if you were to plant a tomato seed, you wouldn’t expect it to have tomatoes the next day. It takes time and you have to tend it. It’s the same with the thoughts. Even if you don’t believe the thoughts at first, still say them. They are seeds you are planting. You can’t say a thought once, and fill the rest of your day with toxic thoughts and expect positive changes. You expect a seed to produce good fruit, and in the same way, your positive thoughts will produce good results. After planting the tomato seed, when the sprout comes up, you would never go to your garden and stomp on it, you are delighted with what has produced from the seed. So when good things start happening in your life because of your positive affirmations, don’t stomp on them, don’t let doubt in by saying things like “I can’t believe that worked” or “this will never last”. Continue in the manner and be grateful for what you have.

Now I return to my Facebook story: There are studies out there claiming Facebook can make us unhappy. That is causes us to feel worse about ourselves and lowers our level of life satisfaction. Although I’ve read these studies, I don’t know that I even believed them wholly until I experienced it first hand.

Last night, after I had spent hours wasting time reading about other people’s lives, I finally pulled myself out of the recliner and went to get ready for bed. As I was changing into my gown, I looked at my body in the mirror and BAM, there was a negative thought. I noticed it right away because during the last several weeks I have become very aware of the thoughts I have. Following that negative thought of my body image, my mind immediately thought of a picture I had seen on Facebook of someone I barely know doing something I think is remarkable. I immediately felt jealous of this person whom I barely know doing a remarkable thing, a thing I secretly want to do. I am sure I felt jealousy earlier when I saw it initially, but was too busy scrolling to acknowledge my envy, although I did point it out to my husband.

And then…….to top it off after my negative thought of myself, and my jealousy thought of a practical stranger, I began to criticize her and compare her situation in life to my own. My thoughts went something like this. “Well, she’s not stuck at home all day with a 3-year-old. She doesn’t have a job. What does she do all day? If I had the whole day to myself, I could accomplish so much more as well.”

Friends, all of this happened in a very short time. It wasn’t something I dwelled upon. In the amount of time it took to put a gown over my head, these thoughts had bombarded my brain. Taken over. Reigned supreme. I went from self-hate, to envy, to criticizing others, to comparison. None of which was beneficial to me.

“Whoa.” I thought. This is unreal. I really couldn’t believe that my time spent on Facebook after six months of not being on Facebook could derail my progress like it did.

After I realized the impact it had on me, I couldn’t deactivate my account fast enough. I am my own case study. I’m not here to slam Facebook. I know that it serves a good purpose much of the time, but for me, it is like a sip of whiskey to an alcoholic. I just don’t want to go there again. Not that I won’t ever, but I like myself better every day. I love myself more every day. And those around me. I miss my Facebook friends. I even miss the practical strangers. But last night, I experienced something profound. A true learning experience and I would be foolish not to pay attention.

You Dance Over Me

I’m not sure what it was that woke me in the middle of the night. The dream. The fact that my left leg was asleep from stem to stern. Or my big barking dog in the backyard. Whatever it was, I was awake.

I wiggled my leg, feeling the pins and needles begin to subside; laid there deciding whether I should get up and shut up the dog and face a possible ax murderer staring back at me ( I always imagine the worst); all while I picked the pieces of my dream and put them in their place, making it all come together. It was a Dad dream, my favorite kind, and so I savored the memory of him for just a while longer before I ventured outside to yell at the dog.

It turned out, there was no ax wielding maniac, probably just a skunk. I returned to bed, but now I had a new problem. I was awake at four in the morning. Alone in my head. My thoughts crowding and bumping into each other.

As a mom-in-the-trenches, there are two things I currently cherish in my life.
1) My sleep
2) My alone time when I’m awake.

I debated them. Should I try to go back to sleep? Should I get up and write? (something I don’t have time for unless I’m awake and everyone else is asleep). I want to sleep. I want to write. I can’t do both at the same time. Instead I did neither. I played Words with Friends, then I thought of my dream some more, which carried me to a real-life conversation I had with my sister a few hours previous.

She had mentioned a scripture that she was focusing on. Zephaniah 3:17? Or was it Zechariah 3:17? Four in the morning memory isn’t so hot. She said she had highlighted it for her Bible Study and had left her Bible opened on the table. Later, she noticed that her daughter, who’s battling her own adolescent wars, had drawn a heart beside the highlighted scripture and had written her initials inside. That image touched me. The fact that an adolescent girl would pause to read that scripture, and that it was meaningful enough to her that she would make her own notations with her heart and initials.

I am unfamiliar with Zephaniah 3:17.

I got my phone and looked it up.
Zephaniah 3:17
NLT: “For the Lord your God has arrived to live among you. He is a mighty savior. He will rejoice over you with great gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will exult over you by singing a happy song.”

Then I read it in the NIV:
“The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”

I read them again and again, mulling over these words and considered the relevance to my niece and her struggles.

God is with you.
Lives among you.
Mighty Savior.
Rejoices.
Great delight.
With gladness.
Calm all your fears.
Rejoice over you with singing.
Happy song.

It paints a happy picture, doesn’t it? It paints a loving picture. It paints a picture of a God who is crazy about us. One who cares.

Just then my little bed partner, Emma Kate, rolled into me. Her skin was warm and toasty and her breathing was full of slumber. I kissed the side of her head, and felt my heart bursting with love for her.

Those words echoed in my head:
Great delight
With gladness.
Calm all your fears.
Rejoice over you with singing.
Happy song.

We love because he first loved us. He is our example of love. We should strive to love like him. Those words are of a Loving God. And, just for an extra bonus, the words of an Old Testament God. The mean one, you know?

You see, I have a problem with God. Rather, I have a problem with my idea of God. I try to fit him into a mold and relate to him in ways that I relate to others. I’m told God is loving. I’m told He desires a relationship with us more than anything. I’m told that he cares for us. But, sometimes I can’t help but see God as aloof, off in Heaven doing his own thing, his back turned to me, his ears barely hearing my pleas. He’s busy. He’s working. He wants to be left alone. Maybe he says, ‘In a minute.’ ‘Later.’ ‘I need to finish this first, then I’ll get to you’. Or maybe he says, ‘Can I just have a few minutes to myself? Geez, all I’m asking for is a little quiet time here. To regroup. Recharge. Is that too much to ask?’

Or wait. No, that’s me.

You see, I think God relates to me the way I relate to my child. And others.

But he doesn’t.

My ways are not your ways. My thoughts are not your thoughts.

We’re told here in Zeph. 3:17, that he delights in us. Sings over us. Rejoices. Yagil. That literally means he dances, skips, leaps. He shouts over us with shouts of joy.

Whoa.

When was the last time you danced and sang over somebody? Not with somebody. Not for somebody’s entertainment. But OVER somebody. As much as we think we love, it’s no comparison to how he loves is it?

God does not have his back turned. He’s not saying, “not now, later.” He cares. We are his children, and He is not weary with us. He has shown up to live with us. He has arrived.
Annnnnnd……He is full on dancing, singing, rejoicing, and loving us.

How awesome is our God?

I think that knowledge is worth getting up at 4 a.m. for.

In my book, anyway.

A spirit of self-discipline

Last night I attended a womens’ Bible study. My emotions were all over the place. I wasn’t sure if I should go since I don’t attend the same church as the ladies in the Bible study, or ANY church currently, for that matter. Also, it wasn’t like I was actually invited. They asked Ash to babysit for the women who had young children, and that’s how I got the invitation. So it felt kind of like a second hand invitation, you know. An afterthought.

I was torn. But I know that if I’m going to build relationship with people in this new town, I need to leave my house. I need to put myself out there. I need to be bold and confident. Plus, I do love a good Bible study as much as the next gal, so I went. I am so glad that I did. The study was on fear and worry. I don’t consider myself a fearful person or a worry wort. So naturally I didn’t think I would gain much from it. However I did. I gained more than I could have imagined. It was so weird because being the introverted person that I am, especially around people I don’t know, I usually clam up, smile sweetly, answer if spoken to and retreat as fast as possible. Not last night. It was like I had diarrhea of the mouth. I answered every question, at the same time constantly worrying that I was dominating the conversation and not making any sense at all. I added to other’s comments, and then later worried that I offended them, that I didn’t express myself good enough and they took it the wrong way. I tell you, I’m one of those people who can’t even talk half the time, and if I do, then afterwards I play the conversation over and over and realize how utterly stupid I must have sounded. Making first impressions is so hard. For me.

I’ve learned since the Bible study, that yes, I am a worry wort. Not in the aspect that I worry the house will catch on fire or the world will end, but I worry what people think of me. I worry if I’m good enough for them, if I’m likable, if I’ll measure up as friend-worthy. I find myself worrying about this a lot more now that I’m in a new place, trying to make new connections. In my hometown where I lived all my life, those relationships and connections were well established before I had to worry about it. I mean, I made it out of junior high and then high school. I’m nearly 40 years old, so figuring out who I am and worrying if people will like the person that I am, should be long gone and over with. Well, it’s not.

As we sat in a semi-circle in a lady’s home, our Bibles opened on our laps, sharing our deepest fears and worry and getting all down and personal, I began to feel so refreshed and renewed. It has been a very long time since I participated in a small group and I left there feeling filled up to the measure with God and fellowship. It was a good feeling. I just love how GOD knows exactly what we need and meets that need in ways we don’t expect.

The leader touched on many scriptures, but the one that spoke to me in so many ways was 2 Timothy 1:7.

I heard Beth Moore teach on this scripture before and so I know a different version. The version I’ve always recited is from the KJV that reads: For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. (emphasis mine)

But the scripture read aloud at the Bible study was a different version than I know. The NIV reads: ⁷For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. (emphasis mine)

EUREKA!!

Self-discipline is something I struggle with on a daily basis. I can get lazy. I can procrastinate. There are so many things I want to accomplish and yet I lack the self-discipline. I beat myself up each night for not doing what I need to because of the self-discipline it requires. After hearing this version of the verse, it was an epiphany. GOD gives me self-discipline. It is from Him. Which means I can accomplish all that I desire with self-discipline. If He gives self-discipline, then it makes sense to me that the lazy, procrastinating spirit is from Satan. Of course it is. He doesn’t want me to succeed, he wants to steal my joy. He came in fact, to steal, kill and destroy. Destroy my dreams, destroy my hope, destroy my family, my health, and ultimately my life. Satan wants me to live in defeat and to go to bed every night disappointed in myself.

On a second note, that scripture also speaks to my timidity around new people and new situations. My lack of self confidence, my worry of first impressions and if people will like me. Timidity does not come from God. I know who I am in Him and I need to hold my head up and walk proudly knowing that if He is for me, who can be against me, right?

I’m refreshed by this. Which is exactly what the Word of God will do, refresh. I am uplifted. I am hopeful. I am smiling. My joy is abundant.

Now when I’m faced with my lazy, procrastinating spirit, or my weaknesses want to override my strengths, or I want to give in and not work toward goals I have set for myself, then I recite 2 Timothy 1:7.

God has given me self-discipline.

You’d better listen.

This morning I sent this 14 year old off to school.

It’s Homecoming here. Last night there was a bonfire, today a pep rally, tonight a football game, tomorrow a dance.

We be busy.

So later, I was replying to some comments here on my blog and I ended up clicking on something that took me way back to some of my first posts. I saw comments from my dad, which made me smile and brought a touch of sadness as well. Clicking here led to clicking there until I came across this post from a few years back that is entitled “Listen.”

I think it’s my favorite blog post of all time.

It’s a voicemail from that sweet 14 year old above when she was a bit younger. A bit more innocent. But still as fun. And crazy. And tender.

You have to listen to this message. It shows her heart.

A beautiful heart.

Here’s the original post from 2010:

My niece called me. She left the sweetest, most precious voicemail.

Before you hear more, I must tell you this.

“Mama” in the message, works in bail bonds. They were at the jail to bail someone out. Thankfully, not a member of the family…….this time.

My niece had been prostrate weeping and wailing for hours because her friend Perla couldn’t come over after she had been planning it for a whole entire week. She was devastated.

And lastly, Jesus is her homeboy.

Click on the link below. You must. It’ll make you smile, I hope.

http://www.divshare.com/flash/playlist?myId=10255644-023

Authors Note: It took me 17 hours, 904 online tutorials, and ten of my own dollars to learn how to post this to my blog. I have yanked every hair from my head and am now forever changed, not to mention bald. So it had better make you smile.

Thanks for listening 🙂

My Happily Ever After

I’ve known my husband since I was eleven years old and he was twelve, that’s how it is in a small town. My family ran onto some hard times and had to move to the po’ side o’ town. That’s the poor side of town for those who aren’t from there. You’ve heard the joke…..we were so po we couldn’t afford the ‘or’. Jason lived 2 blocks away to the right. We did not have a love at first sight experience. Actually, he was crushing on my sister instead and would bring her roses he’d stolen from somebody’s flowerbed. They were outside sitting on the porch and I could be found next door watching Golden Girls and Cagney and Lacey with my Grannie, not giving two thoughts to boys.

We went to Middle School and High School together where he was a year older than me. We hung out in different crowds, but said hello in passing.

I was in my early adulthood when I figured out that I knew everyone in both the police record and the wedding announcements. Small town stuff. Early adulthood is when society dictates that you should get married. I wasn’t married, nor was I anywhere close. There’s a sort of panic that sets in when you figure out that you aren’t on the same time frame as the rest of the world.

Being a single girl in a small town is not an easy thing to do. Up until I found and married Jason, I was constantly being asked who I was dating, why wasn’t I dating, or someone was trying to fix me up. Eventually the well meaning townsfolk decided I was probably a lesbian and left me alone.

One day in 1998 I went to the grocery store to buy Fruity Pebbles and Ramen Noodles, staples in my single-girl diet. As I was walking out, a girl I knew stopped me in the parking lot and told me someone’s truck had just rolled into my car. In small towns everyone knows what everyone else drives. I rolled my eyes and groaned. This turned out to be my third wreck in a parking lot! In my experience, you’re pretty much out of luck. The police won’t do much because it’s considered private property. You just have to hope the other guy has insurance and is a respectable dude who will take care of it. When I got into eye shot, I saw this empty, avocado green, beat up Ford pickup had knocked out of gear and rolled about fifty feet before slamming his taillights into my headlights.

It belonged to Jason. I knew that the minute I saw it. Small town stuff. Neither of us were in our vehicles at the time. It was almost as if this old, green, beat up Ford truck saw this fancy, new, bluish purple Mustang and said, “Hey there, wild thang with the 4 cylinder. I think you need a better look at my rear end.” I leaned against the side of my car and waited for him to meander out of the store. He was all apologies, promised he’d take care of it. And he did. He called me up and asked me to take it to a certain body shop, the car got fixed and life went on. And that was that.

For five more years.
Dates with crazies came and went.
Then I became a recluse.
I would never go out. People would tell me I needed to be out meeting people. But I had met people, and they turned out to be daddy’s boys or killer cops and I’d rather stay home and watch Survivor alone. If somebody wanted to date me, they were going to have to knock on my door. And that was that.

Then one day I came home from work to find Jason’s name on my caller ID. That was curious, but I assumed it was a wrong number. He called back two days later and asked me out. We talked for three hours. I was teaching school and a parent of one of my students, that happened to be a friend of his, had suggested he ask me out. He remarked that I was too sweet for him, which is true. But a few days later, we passed each other on the main road in town and waved, and prompted him to call. I’d had my experiences with cowboys, not to mention their dads, and didn’t figure it would go anywhere, but I agreed. Eating Ramen Noodles was getting pretty old by this time.

It worked out pretty good.
He wore a yellow shirt.
I ordered chicken.

We had a second date.
He took me horseback riding.

I needed a boost on the butt.

He happily obliged.
I was petrified.

We had a third date.
At a comedy club.
His truck started breaking down on the way home.

A few months later he proposed to me on bended knee.
We got married.
He still has to give me a boost on the butt.
A much bigger boost on a much larger butt.

Sometimes, when I get nostalgic, I’ll think about the wreck we had in the parking lot both in unmanned vehicles. I learned later that of course that po’ boy didn’t have any car insurance but knew a guy who could fix my car. They did a little bartering and Jason broke a horse for the body shop man in exchange for payment. Small town stuff.

It’s a funny story I guess. Maybe even a coincidence.

Perhaps it was Fate.
Or Destiny.
Or the cosmos aligning perfectly with Mercury in the Sixth House.

But if you really want to know the truth, I believe it was God.
I believe that he intended for that collision of two unmanned vehicles to be the beginning of Jason and Angel. A collision of love.
And we just weren’t listening.

That was a move on His part to create His will for two dumb pilgrims down here, and we missed it. So he went to Plan B. He works around our goofs.
Because He’s cool like that.

This entry is #15 on a list of 30 things. How I fell in love.

Am I worthy of a ‘hello, nice to meet you?’

I’m ranting.

Not just because I’m mad, but because I’m sad too. Anger and tears. That’s what happens to me. First I get angry, and then I cry and then I get angrier that I’m crying, and then I cry harder, which makes me more angry. Aaarrrggghhhh!

I have such a high tolerance too. I rarely get mad, so I have to sort this out in my mind. Why am I so mad? Or am I really hurt? Yes that’s it, I’m hurt. If my friend were sitting on my bed with me right now she would remind me that anger is a peacock emotion. In other words, anger shows itself while a different emotion is being hidden. One of those hidden emotions is hurt.

I have just been treated so rudely by someone in the educational field, a professional I dare call him, and I’ll use that term loosely. Blatant, out and out, rudeness. Offensive. Treated as if I were nothing. A nobody. My niece’s teacher would not look up from his computer to simply say hello when my niece wanted me to meet him. As I introduced myself, I got a hmmmm hmmmm in response, right along with a “I’ve got a conference at 3:30”. He didn’t stand, he didn’t say hello, he didn’t extend his hand, he didn’t even look me in the eye.

I am an outsider here. I am reminded of it all too often. My self worth and self confidence is at an all time low for whatever reason, and for someone to not acknowledge that I exist, that I am standing in the same room, that I am a human being with a beating heart, well quite honestly, he waylaid me. I have been drop-kicked in the gut.

Am I unworthy to be spoken to. No, that’s ridiculous. I feel so silly to allow someone to make me feel this low. Yet, I do.

This is a feeling I don’t think I have ever experienced before IN MY LIFE. A feeling of complete unworth. And I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Which causes me to question, have I ever treated someone else like this? Even unconsciously? I hope not. I hope I have never made anyone, be it a parent at school, a relative, a clerk at the convenience store, a classmate from high school, or a beggar on the corner feel as if they were nothing, as if they didn’t matter, as if they were unimportant. But the truth is, I have. I’m sure I have. Even though I can’t recall it, they remember it. How could someone forget. It hurts too deeply.

So, what will I do? Will I fire off a scathing email to him like I want, and then visit his principal and tattle on him, like I want?

No I won’t.

Will I tell my husband through my tears what happened and beg him to go beat him up, like I want?

No I won’t.

Will I find out where he lives and throw a roll of toilet paper through his tree branches and then egg his car?

Maybe I will do that.

No, I won’t.

Instead I’ll remind myself of who I actually am. I’ll thank my God that He has made me HIS CHILD, that I am a daughter of THE ALMIGHTY KING, that I am HIGHLY FAVORED, that God DELIGHTS in me, that He SINGS over me, that I am LOVED so very much that God himself would robe himself in flesh, remain sinless, yet die a gruesome death for me. FOR ME. I am WORTH that much to Him. Unworthy to be spoken to by a teacher, maybe I am, but to God I am SOMEBODY. Because of that, I will lift my head, I will wipe my tears, and I will remember that everyone (including that teacher) is worthy of a smile, a kind word, a simple hello. I will strive to be a better person who treats everyone I meet with dignity and respect, regardless of how busy I am, what kind of day I’m having, or whether I had my coffee that morning. What a humbling experience I’ve had today, and what a reminder and a lesson I have learned.

If I have ever made you feel bad about yourself, please forgive me. Please know it was not intentional. Please know I did not intend to hurt you.

Sending you my cyber hug,

Angel

5 months

My sweet and precious Emma Kate,

Today you are 5 months old. I’ve known this day was coming, but it just doesn’t seem possible.

I look at you and I can’t believe it. That sweet tiny baby has morphed into a bundle of fun, with a big grin and a bit of a mischievous nature I believe. Your daddy keeps saying you’re turning into a little person. A little person full of personality and curiosity.

We enjoy every minute of you. Even the 3 a.m. ones. Even the “somebody better do something to fix my problem” crying ones. Even the “I think I’ll go to the bathroom since you already have my diaper off” ones.

Your good moments completely outweigh the tougher times. You play with your toys for a really long time. Sometimes you get frustrated when you can’t reach your favorite toy, but you don’t give up easily. You have a determined spirit about you, which I think is a good quality. Later, we’ll likely call it stubbornness, which you’ll come by honestly since both your daddy and I possess it as well.

I quit my job so I can be a stay at home mom with you. I don’t think we’ve been separated since the end of May. We spend our days playing, singing, reading, eating, sleeping, and having some outside time which is your favorite. Some days we go to town to visit or run errands, but not too much, because mama is a homebody.

You love feet, and it doesn’t really matter whose they are. You learned how to get your piggies into your mouth this month and boy how good they must taste! Really, it’s quite an accomplishment considering those fat rolls on your thighs. My goodness, you’re cute! You’re absolutely perfect. At your last check up (when you had to get those mean shots) you weighed in at 14 pounds 10 ounces, 24 3/4 inches long, and your head was 16 inches.

You’ve got some pretty big brains in there, I think. You’re smart Emma Kate. There are things you do, that others may think are a fluke or accidental, but mama doesn’t think so. I swear you know how to play peek a boo. You pull a burp cloth or a small blanket up over your face and wait for us to say “Where’s Emma?” and then you pull it down to see us. You do this again and again. You give mama kisses on the cheek with that wide open mouth and you go in for Eskimo kisses with your Grandy. You know that when you press down on that little green button the wipes will open up and you can try to eat them.

Bath time is a blast. You’ve outgrown those little baby baths so you are a big girl in the tub these days. And boy do you make a splash, literally. You kick those feet like mad and splash water until it hits you in the face and slows you down a bit.

Sleeping is getting better. This month, I’ve tried out a new method I read about on the internet called the E.A.S.Y method. You eat, then you have activity time, and then when I notice you are getting drowsy, I’ll hold you with your binky for just a little while till your eyes are heavy, then I put you in your bed and you go right to sleep. Usually. You like to put a little blanket over your head. I gave you a soft blanket to hold onto, and when I went back to check on you, you were sound asleep with it over your face. Now, that’s just what you do. Going to sleep works just fine, it’s just staying asleep that you don’t care for. But you’re getting better.

You were dedicated to the Lord on June 3rd at Briarwood Church and received your very first little pink Bible and a certificate. All the congregation reached out their hands to you as the pastor prayed God’s protection and guidance over your life. He also made me tell the story of how a man in the church told me you were coming years ago, but I thought he was crazy.

We had your pictures made this month with all your cousins on my side of the family. Your aunt Jolea and your cousins Hannah and Zoie came to visit. It was the first time H & Z had ever seen you, so we gathered up your cousins Harley and Maxx as well and went to daddy’s work to have pictures made. They’re going to make Grandy a nice birthday present in a few days.

We also had your pictures made by yourself.

The doctor said we can start you on some rice cereal if we want, and start trying some other foods. So mommy jumped the gun and gave you a taste of avocado instead! You liked that for a little bit, but not for long. I’ve also given you tastes of strawberry, cantaloupe, and asparagus! Mostly you shuddered and got this awful look on your face. So we’re still waiting on the whole eating thing.

I hope I’m capturing everything I can about your little life honey. You are our little joy. Your daddy and I want to do the best we can for you. There will be times that we fail miserably I know. We’re going to have bad times along with the good on this ride. I want you to have good memories of your childhood with us. I want you to always know you’re loved deeply by us, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends, and mostly by Jesus. It’s incomprehensible that He loves you more than I do, but He does. My love for you pales in comparison.

I’m so happy to have you, baby of mine.

XOXO,

Mommy

A Better World

I think I’m officially a mommy blogger, as all my posts of late center around my baby.

But how can you blame me? She has yet to lose that new baby smell as my husband jokingly says.

She is my obsession.
She will always be my obsession.

She is sleeping in my arms as I type, and oh, if only you could smell her! She’s scrubbed clean, dressed for church, and doesn’t smell like sour milk. Who knows if we’ll actually make it to church. It’s so easy to hold her and let the minutes tick past, as if there is nothing more important than this. Is there?

I find myself struggling with that very thing. I must now make a conscious effort to find balance, especially in other relationships. I must give my loved ones some attention too. They’re being neglected I feel.

A mother is a true servant to her children, sacrificing her time, food, showers, make-up, and all kinds of other previously thought important things to meet the needs of her babies. We are called to be servants to everyone, just as Jesus Christ came to be a servant o all. If only I could show love to every human being I encounter as much as I show love to this baby in my arms. After all, isn’t love “action” rather than “feeling”?

I challenge myself to this greater love for others and it is HARD for me. But I desperately need the world to be a better place for this darling girl to grow up in. We CAN make a difference in someone’s life. Let’s all try, okay?

For her.
And all the others.