be-musings

Man, I'm really out of shape. While licking chocolate cake batter off the egg beaters my tongue got sore! Time for "tongue-ups"?

Yesterday was the 7th anniversary of bringing Matthew home. I'm so grateful for his presence in my life. He makes me laugh so much. There is such joy and tenderness in his heart. As I say, God gave me what I needed, and I'm thankful for this gift.

It's hard to be understood when not communicating face to face. In the previous post some people were confused about what I was or was not saying. In order to be understood better I had to re-write it a little in order to be more specific. That meant I added some parts that I had previously edited out. If you had read that post prior to me writing this one, you are welcome to re-read the other again. Sorry for the harshness of the new version. I don't want to break my own etiquette rules, and am trying to balance that with what the heart of the matter is.

A scene rang true from last night's movie. It's about an inter-racial relationship and reverse discrimination. In that scene the African American woman was talking to her dad about her Caucasian fiance's former boss. She said something like this: "He's not a nice man. Well, he talks nice daddy. It's hard to say...it's just something in the look his eyes."
I've seen what she's talking about. Those who talk like they're interested in you or they think you're okay, but you can see in their eyes that they are lying. That they are judging you. In her case for being a black woman with a white man. In my case...you fill in what you want there.
I have come to hate church. Yes, these two things are related. I love God, His word, worshipping in music. At home I pray, read the Bible, talk with fellow Christians. But I hate going to church. It seems that these days I can't go to anything nearby, other than the monastery. Let me rephrase. I can't go to any church that is of the type to feed my soul. I can go through the motions out of responsibility or guilt. You know I'm good at guilt. But I figure I can get at least one thing out of any service because I love God. Yet everywhere I turn (except the monastery) I encounter someone who stares that knows "of me". Or "just has to ask me" about stuff, while bearing an accusational tone. What a wide swath these sins of gossip and lies cut. Strangely, they seems to bear so much more negative consequence than say....adultery. They impact so many people.
Today I went to a church that I thought would be safe. I came home crying so badly while driving, that I hid my face and muffled my sounds so that Matthew wouldn't know. Not because it's wrong for him to see emotions, but because this battle is mine not his. He would try to protect me, which is not something a child should have to do.
I am rapidly coming to a conclusion which has been solidifying for a few months. God help the Christian who is perceived to be in sin, even without substantiation. There is fervoured spreading of the rumour of such perceived sin. I constantly feel the sting of judgement for something I have not done, yet the lies and slander continue.
Maybe this is all I can write for now. Even this is more than I am comfortable saying. Even this blog has had to be re-written at parts because of the nay-sayers who will look for "evidence" of something that isn't there. Some of you who are of that description are tuning in to do "research" or look for confessions or smile at my misery. That isn't the heart of Christ. Only those who are portraying Christ are welcome here.
For those who may be disappointed with this post, I'm sorry. I have held back, but have published parts of it. Not that my life will change because of it. Those who love me hopefully still will. Those who say negative things about me certainly still will. But I am still naive enough in many things in life to hope that maybe just one person, even one who knows nothing of my circumstances, will commit to reducing this kind of crap by being responsive to a person who needs it. That someone will choose not to pass judgement.

Here's a couple of pics of Matthew. Wow, what a great summer we've had.


And now with Anna, who claims that she will marry no one other than Matthew when she's an adult. You might laugh, but she's been saying that since she was 4, and she is a very determined girl. Matthew better join track to be able to outrun her.
Here they're setting their hats on the ground sprinkler hole.

And thar' she blows!

Nice one...in the face.

While going through my jewelry box last week, I found a novelty store ring. It was from church about 2 years ago, identical ones handed out to all who attended. The sermon illustration: The Lord of the Rings. The message: "Even the smallest person can make a difference."
Sometimes this message has seemed like a load of bunk. That's when I'm pessimistic and feel small. But wait, it's about being okay to feel small. Maybe it's about God's strength showing in our weakness. About letting go of our own abilities and trusting in the abilities of something higher than ourselves.
So, I think about the other significance in this, using the movie as a guideline. Frodo couldn't accomplish his task by himself. He needed people around him. Some were his long-time friends. Some had been enemies but became friends along the way. There were the strong, the weak, the brave, the timid, the macho, the snivelling. But they were all needed along different points of the journey. In the end the most unlikely (Sam) was the one who pulled it together when all seemed to be futile.
I need people like that. So do you.
Maybe at times it seems those people aren't there and you're going it alone, like Frodo. It seems that those whom you have loved have turned to a different way. But surprisingly there is a reunion sometime in the story. Maybe not now, but it does happen. You won't go the journey alone. You were never alone.


For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength.
Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth.
1 Corinthians 1:25-26

A while ago I wrote about needing to let go of a couple people in my life. Not to say goodbye, but to give up on worrying about things they do or don't do. I had to give them totally to God. When I did this, I used the symbolism of throwing two rocks into the water while praying.
Weeks later, as I jogged past the spot that I did this, I reflected back on the prayer and the releasing of these people. I realized that in my life it's so easy to keep taking them back. To want them to see things as I saw "best". While passing the spot, I consciously chose to leave them where I had left them.
As I continued on, the terrain sloped up a hill. How much like my life is that? I reach a fork in the road, where a decision is made. I revisit the fork sometimes, wondering if an alternate decision would be good to try. As I continue on, things become difficult. In this case, continuing to let go. While moving up the road, it was hard work. I almost gave up and began walking. I didn't know what was on the other side of the hill, but pressed on toward the goal. Sure enough, right after the peak of the hill the trail dipped downward and I picked up momentum. My heart rate settled and breathing came easy. But around the corner was another set of hills. I kept on until my time target, then I turned back. Oh, the journey was so much like the ups and downs of my life. Sometimes I have wanted to recoil and not move. Just to sit down and go neither forward nor back. Maybe I did sit for a few moments, but to stay there would be pointless. Alone in the middle of nowhere.
As I returned to the car along the same route, I passed the "letting go" site again. I stopped and prayed once more, the same prayer of that first day. I've continued to let them go. They're in God's control and power, not mine.

Yesterday didn't go the best. I spent a few hours trouble-shooting some electrical problems in light switches. Many attempts at fixing things with many trips to the breaker box. A two hour job turned into 6 hours over the course of a couple days. Then a simple sewing project took a couple hours more than it should because the machine kept breaking down. But I never gave up, even if it meant staying up late. Obstinate perhaps? But, it could have been worse. When doing the electrical I could have forgotten to turn off a breaker, touched some wiring, got a big shock, and screamed while dropping the screwdriver. Wait....that was Thursday.
Perhaps electricity is not my area of gifting.

When reading Romans 12 this week it reminded me of some of the Proverbs. Wise advice for living in harmony with God and each other. See what you think:

So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life--your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life--and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you...
If you preach, just preach God's Message, nothing else; if you help, just help, don't take over; if you teach, stick to your teaching; if you give encouraging guidance, be careful that you don't get bossy; if you're put in charge, don't manipulate; if you're called to give aid to people in distress, keep your eyes open and be quick to respond; if you work with the disadvantaged, don't let yourself get irritated with them or depressed by them. Keep a smile on your face. Love from the center of who you are; don't fake it. Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good. Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle.

Yesterday was a perfect day. First thing in the morning I went to the chiropractor. I spent the whole adjustment laughing at him because no matter how far he twisted me or how hard he pushed, some things just weren't working for him. He would show frustration, which is uncommon for him. That made it even funnier.
I went to a government office, having been warned it would take hours to wait and get my paperwork processed. I was in and out in 25 minutes. During the brief wait, as our numbers flashed on the LED screens, I considered that when my number would be called I would jump up and yell "Bingo"! but I didn't have the guts. The clerk told me that on the really busy days there are people who actually do that. I can think of a couple people reading this who would be one of those kind of people.
Driving home I got lost trying to find the freeway. Yeah, I know that's no surprise. But I didn't get upset or frustrated. Just thought it was a scenic diversion. Phew.
In the evening I saw some former colleagues, and went for a long walk with my prior walking buddy. We talked and talked and talked. Sometimes things like that are good for the soul. And good for the sagging butt. Not that I'm worried about that...no...pardon me as I clear my throat.

I like my place. It's the top of a duplex on a quarter acre. The guy downstairs is very quiet, and sometimes travels. I still feel like I have privacy, without having to pay much money. It's exactly what I needed after moving out of the house.
This week Matthew is away for 8 days. I'm trying to keep busy so that I don't get too lonely for him. Trying to deny those feelings. So, I'm taking the time to touch up the place. You know, painting and doing those "homey" touches. Things that make me feel settled in as well as esthetic things to appeal to the eye.
Not only am I doing upkeep on the house, but my inside space as well. Reading in bed. Listening to music that moves the inner part of me. Spending some time in contemplation, but not too much time. For me too much time means a diversion to the melancholy. Just enough time to be able to formulate this blog.
As I said, I like my place. What I haven't told you is that I mean both places. The outside place and the inside space of who I am. Yeah, I'm not without flaws and slipping into discouragement. I wrestle with stuff. I realize though, that I don't need to be perfect.
For the first time in my life I like myself. Not the me that I want to be. Regardless of my flaws, in their multitude. I like myself. It's a good place to be. It's what I need.

We did it! No one went to the hospital, and only one bandaid required. Parents didn't kill children, children didn't...I can't think of anything there.
Within an hour of arrival all four children were playing together in the woods. Good, we thought. Time to set up and then chill before cooking. We checked on them (by turning our heads, which sometimes seemed like too much work) and noticed what appeared to be a scene out of Lord of the Flies. There was a standoff with three other kids, and everyone's body language and stick posture was looking to become confrontational. We could tell there were words and warnings being issued. I entered crowd control mode. Into the woods I went to diffuse the situation. I didn't bring any rubber bullets, so I had to use the tough mom voice. It came surprisingly easy. You would think I have practise at it.
The next day we went to the beach.

Don't let the picture fool you. See that boat? Twice we had to go fetch it because it had been let go of. Well, we're women, so we didn't exactly fetch it. The first time it strayed Maryann went to get it and ended up in sinking mud and lakeweed, so turned back. We didn't panic. A $25 boat isn't worth that much yuck! We agreed to let it float around the lake a while and see where it ended up. Some nice kayakers spotted it quickly, rounded it up, and returned it to us. But the children wanted to use it more, so with a "conversation" on how to avoid losing it we let them. Lessons come the hard way. Once again astray, I ran to get it and was told "Get one of the older boys to swim for it". So, I held his beachball while he retrieved it. Hey, this woman only camping thing was working out to our advantage. We still didn't have to get wet!
We adopted Zach, from the next campsite. A four year old sweetie, he would have been a perfect addition to my family. But, he already had parents...darn.
The second day Gary came to stay overnight, which meant comedic relief.

Since there was then a man in the camp we played games together...board games...where was your mind? Yatzee Nazi (Maryann) won 100% of the Yatzee games, and Jenn actually gambled on poker. Isn't it a sin or something? Would it still be called gambling if we used communal index cards instead of money? Whether it be yes or no, I'm going to milk it anyways. I didn't achieve my goal for the night of getting Jenn to cuss. I'll try harder next year.

Going camping with chicks and kids. Lord help us! (Actually, I'm looking forward to it, but how exciting would the blog be if I didn't make it look like a big deal.)

I hope there's no makeup-less photos afterwards.

Today I read both Cooper sites, catching up on a few lost days. Jordon's moved me to verklempt. There are no words that I could think of to say. Anything really encouraging seems too trite right now. And I have no advice to give, in a world that is full of well-meaning advice givers. I can only pray and love from a distance, while trying not to obsess about his ailments. Sounds weird I know, but I'm a worrier. Once I care for someone or have been impacted by a life, I struggle to separate worry from the equation. And Jordon being such an insightful man, has personally impacted my life.
When I read Wendy's blog, something definitely caught my eye, and my intellect. Let me plagiarize parts of her writing, and you can read the whole thing at this link:
The truth is that words and actions have consequences that often spiral out of our control. When people get hurt, they have to heal.
Even if I wanted to move on, if it isn't healed, it will come back to haunt me later. You can't fake healing.
Some people in my life have demanded grace but have ignored both that I have been badly hurt and also the one that is hurt is the one that decides what needs to be done to heal.
Regardless of their response, I can and do forgive. The problem in my life is that people have taken my forgiveness as reconcilliation and amnesty for what they have done. It isn't. Forgiveness is not reconcilliation. Forgiveness means I don't have the desire to hit back...
I can forgive you and not trust you.
Reconcilliation happens once I heal and feel safe again.

Just thinking out loud here. If forgiveness is a choice that we make, it would definitely mean that we wouldn't have the desire to hit back. But that doesn't mean the pain is gone, because we choose to forgive. It doesn't mean we trust yet. Maybe we can never trust because of the magnitude of the relational problem.
Does this change when we quote Scripture? I don't think so. Many times those who feel are being wronged by our inability to yet trust or heal will quote the Bible as a sword for themselves, disguising it as guidance. They are asking things of us that cannot yet be met. Sometimes to the other party involved in the offense (some would label them as the offender) they can't stomach the situation not being resolved. So, not only did they hold the power during the offense, but also try to hold the power during the forgiveness and reconciliation. Let me turn this to me and to you. It's easy to say these things if we have been wronged or hurt. We cannot be so blind as to think we have not wronged others.
If we have done so, we need to offer repentance and ask for forgiveness. But if the other person can't reconcile with us (or even forgive while the wound is still fresh) we need to give up the control and wait. Check back once in a while if the relationship can handle that.
I would ask you what you think, but since I don't have comments I can't do that. Those are just some thoughts.

I've been reading the book "New Life After Divorce" by Bill Butterworth. I try to stay away from writing any blogs with the D word in it or are about what I'm working through as a result of the D thing. There is some stuff in this book that is good for all relationships, of any nature. One of the topics is forgivenenss, not just of others, but forgiveness of myself as well. Today, just a brief quote.

You make the choice. No one puts a gun to your head and demands it. Forgiveness is not about conjuring up a warm, fuzzy feeling either. You come to a place in your life where you choose to forgive. A cold, hard act of the will, volitional choice.

It's not an easy choice to make. There are all kinds of questions that are thought of before making that choice. I can think of some right now. Maybe you have some too.

I have had to face the fact that something I have enjoyed is no more available for me. It's been difficult to face, because I was beginning to find such joy, such release. Even excitement. But no more.
Mission Paintball is done. I completed all the levels, right about when I was murmuring that there was no way I could shoot 200 people on Level 8. My first real video game. It gave me such frustration, and at the same time such youthful enthusiasm. I've experienced the thrill of victory, but it's tainted with the knowledge that I no longer have a video game to challenge me. And my birthday isn't until December. I'm starting to get the shakes as I write this. Having secret thoughts of casing the game sections of stores to see if there's something else I can justify buying. I must not give in to the addiction! I can control it. Must not...let it...have...power over...me.
Is there a Mission Paintball Game Anonymous meeting somewhere?

It's true. You may not think that about me, but I truly am, in the purest sense of the word. Let me tell you about it.
Just yesterday while in the car I turned to Matthew and said "I guess I'll have to manage without my sunglasses until I can find them." With light-sensitive eyes I wasn't looking forward to that, but would have to manage. Matthew didn't respond for a bit, then he said "But they're on your eyes." I laughed immediately, because I realized he was right. The sad thing is, the same scenario played out between us about a month ago. Then there was the time I was looking for my sunglasses and they were in my hand. Or the time I had filled nailholes with Polyfilla and was looking ferociously for the lid. My house isn't big enough to lose something that I had just used. I found it a week later, as I was on top of a chair sanding an upper wall. It was on top of his bookcase. Perhaps the worst of all was when I was getting all the daycare kids ready to go out, and in my headcount realized the littlest one wasn't running around me. I walked through the house once, saying to my mom...we need to find her. Then I realized she was on my left hip.
Truly a loser...one who loses everything.
I've told Matthew that he's going to have to get good at finding things for me. Someone has to keep things together.