Tag: progress

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Shut It Down and Shut It Up

We all say it.  Every woman I know says, “I hate drama” or “I’m too old for drama” or some other variation.  So then why do we do it?  Why do we get tangled up in gossip even when we have the best intentions at heart?  We all fall victims to ourselves, relishing in the spread of information that was never ours to receive.  Why don’t we stop it when it starts?  Instead we justify and say, “Well I know I’m not going to tell anyone” or “We should pray for this couple”.  Why do we rationalize gossip?

I could give you my opinions.  The same ones you probably share.  We want to feel better about ourselves or we want to feel included, we want to fit in or seem like we are “in the know”.  But when we all have seen and have fallen victims to gossip and the damage it does and the hurt it creates.  Why do we continue?

Let me ask you this tough question: Are you a mean girl?  Am I?  Yes.  Irrevocably, yes.  If we participate in the dirt on someone’s marriage or the elective surgeries of someone in a friend circle, we are mean girls.

Have you ever been caught gossiping?  There is so much shame.  So much shame in knowing I couldn’t stop myself.  So much shame knowing I cared more about hearing what was wrong in someone else’s life than about doing something to build them up.  So much shame knowing that feeling like I was being included was more important than reaching out to the person who was being left out and singled out.

It’s so ugly.  It’s so mean.  We are better than this.   We need to shut it down and shut ourselves up.

P.S. Any information or conversations I have with ANYONE I keep confidential.  Recently, I have experienced a situation where that same courtesy was not given to me.  And it hurt.  I got hurt.

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I Don’t Even Recognize Her

I don’t even recognize her.  She was so full of life and hope.  Nothing could stop her, nothing could slow her down or convince her to change course.  She’d never be defeated; her trust was in the Lord.

Today, her spirit isn’t jaded or weakened but thankful and stronger.  She hasn’t learned the hard way but has learned God’s way.  It’s work.  She’s been disciplined through love; for a greater purpose.  Her story isn’t the result of naivety but of hope.

I remember when she was asked to do the hard thing.  Her confidence.  So self-assured and focused on the goal set before her.

Now she’s living it.  It isn’t a goal or daydream full of whimsy but a reality.  She’s where God called her – the hard place.  Her confidence is not diminished but re-assigned, it’s no longer in her but in Him.  She’s no longer thinking that she is strong enough but that He is strong enough.  She’s seeing firsthand what He can do through a willing heart.  She is tired but wise.  She has been hurt but hasn’t lost.  She has failed and seen redemption.  Today, she is not less but more.  She has failed but hasn’t lost focus.

I don’t even recognize her.  Maybe I don’t want to.  Maybe I’m embarrassed of her.  The young woman I was 10 years ago.  I loved a God I didn’t really know.

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Fat Arms and Other Afflictions

I have fat arms.  I do.  I JUST DO.  Nothing will ever change that.  And I’m fully prepared that in no more than 10 years I will need to warn those around me to duck as I prepare to wave.

I have cellulite.  Sometimes I’m positive I can see cellulite ON MY ARMS!!!  My BIG. FAT. ARMS.

I also have a love for fitness and healthy eating.  You would NEVER KNOW THAT.  And for years it bothered me.  For YEARS I told my husband that what bothers me most about my fatness is that all these skinny people are looking at me thinking I’m fat for a reason.  Well folks, I want to publicly let you all know that I’m FAT because that’s how God wants me right now.  In college I had a pretty bad eating disorder.  I spent 2 hours on the treadmill every day (EVERY.SINGLE.DAY.) and ate less than 1,000 calories each day for over 2 years.  Get this: I never reached an unhealthy weight.  If you factor in math and science: HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!

My point is, if you think I’m fat because I eat too much that’s fine.  BUT what I’M uncovering is that this fatness is intentional.  I think that God has found an area of me that I need to surrender.  Not because surrender is a magic pill but because I need to learn to live the way in which He created me.  The way He created me was in His image.  Righteous.  Worthy.  GOOD.

Lots-O-Days, I don’t really like this fat girl.  But He does and He wants me to learn to like her too.  From a place of surrender.  Face down.  Maybe until I do that, I’ll stay in this place.  Accepting myself just as I am might be the greatest stronghold I’ll ever have to knock down.

P.S. Please don’t’ tell me not to use the word fat.  It’s my word and you can’t take it from me.

P.S.S.  If you are skinny and mean, I just want to let you know that I’m hilarious, generous, smart, have an impeccable sense of style and just generally a person that people like to be around.  If you are skinny and nice, bless you.  Let’s be friends!

P.S.S.S Dang it.  If I was really on the right track to liking myself, I would not have felt the need to tell skinny people how awesome I am (see P.S.S.).

P.S.S.S.S. Oh, I get it.  If I was on the right track I wouldn’t have written this post at all.

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Finding Forward

Finding Forward is a little snip-it from a sermon I recently listened to.  Long-story short, it was a one-liner that I really like and stuck with me.  Who am I?  Where am I going?  What is God calling me towards? How do I want to be remembered? Those questions are so heavy and day-to-day feel impossible to answer.

Since adopting my 3 kids and having a really insane identity crisis I have been trying to find my forward.  I’m still searching.  I re-pierced my nose and bought some Adidas sneakers.  I lost a bunch of weight….I re-gained a bunch of weight.  Ok, not a bunch but some.  It’s still up for debate as to how much weight has or hasn’t been re-gained.  I started intentionally dating friends, got 2 3 guinea pigs, bought 1 really expensive champagne glass, started taking voice lessons, and I’m clipping my toe nails more frequently than ever before.

Part of my crisis after becoming an instant mother of 3 was feeling like who I was as an individual had been completely lost.  I wasn’t cool anymore, I was just a mom and being a mom isn’t sexy.  Us moms drive minivans filled with literal garbage.  It’s sad …… and quite frankly, disgusting.  The other part of my crisis was the guilt I had over motherhood not being enough for me.  It’s just not, and I thought I was the only one.  I thought it was because I had adopted instead of having shot babies out from between my thighs that I was missing that beautiful euphoria a mother shares with her children.  But that theory is crap.  Motherhood is lonely, for everyone.

I see a lot of you out there and just like me you’re trying to find your sexy.  It’s why we are all taking weird selfies of ourselves.  Why we’ve succumbed to wearing skinny jeans that uncomfortably hug all of our imperfections.  We are essentially in adult-onset puberty.  Doing really weird things that we will look back on in 20 years and feel creeped out by.

Welcome to being a woman.  Who also happens to be a mom.  In a man’s world.  Where you drive around in garbage.

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Far From Beautiful

I’m not going to tell the story.  It’s not beautiful.

It’s actually been ugly.  Ugly pieces of my heart that I hadn’t even known existed have surfaced since becoming a parent.  And so, it’s hard for me to respond to people’s questions about “our story”.  I guess that’s mostly because I know what they are expecting to hear.  They are expecting for me to tell them a beautiful story. A story that shines a light on the good in the world that so often seems hidden.  A story that reminds them there’s hope and beauty and redemption.  A story that points to all the ways God has rained down glory on our family and the enormous ways we’ve seen God move.  But I don’t have that story.

In fact, when people ask us about our journey, my mind spins into chaotic memories of yelling, crying and anger.  The long season of feeling alone and angry and privately regretting the choice I had made.  The ugly feelings that I tried to reason with as I desperately tried to remember the feelings of certainty I had when God spoke adoption into our lives.  I questioned if I had got the calling wrong.  The experience was traumatic and I am a changed person because of it.  Those memories hurt.  They feel ugly.

The story is far from beautiful.  But it also isn’t over.

I’ve been hearing God whisper to me since the dust has settled; reminding me that my work is important. That although I’ve failed in moments, I haven’t failed in life.  I haven’t sacrificed as gracefully as I had hoped but my sacrifice is still valid.  My favorite theme of the bible isn’t grace alone but the progress grace allows. His grace is sufficient, but for what? Sufficient grace so we can stand still or sufficient grace so we can progress? If God’s blessing to my family came immediately after the adoption papers were signed, what story would we have to tell?  That God is simple?  That we systematically receive when we give? There are no stories like that in the bible. Why did I think my story would be the first?