A House?

America,

Yesterday Chief and I embarked on what could seriously be considered one of the most terrifying experiences of our adult life. No, America, I did not birth another child (hahaha). What did happen, America, is that we put an offer in on a house. That's right, America, we liked a house enough to ask some strangers to sell it to us, for an insane amount of money (up when we're in HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS of dollars, it's insane. I don't care if there is a house involved.), and we're hoping that they'll say We dig your offer! Here you go!

America, this has riled up all sorts of levels of anxiety in my Scottish heart. What if they reject the offer? What if those other mo-fo's who "like" the house put in a better offer and they take theirs!? What if we buy this house and it's a lemon? What if it's cursed? HAVE I EVEN GOOGLED THIS HOUSE TO MAKE SURE NO ONE HAS BEEN MURDERED THERE AND BURIED IN THE BASEMENT!?!?!? What if it's haunted? Has this house been on those stupid haunted house tv shows? What if there's criminals living next door that have a murderous demon dog, hell bent on killing my peace of mind with unending barking!? What if it's infested with fleas, or lice, or ticks!? What if the backyard has a snake infestation and that's why these people are selling it and have gotten the heck outta dodge...? What if the neighbors are beeelzebub's best friends!!!!!???? What if.... what if.... what if....!?!?!?

Okay, so I may have been joking about a lot of those "what ifs", (you laughed, right America?), but the first couple were genuine. What.if. It's a valid little two word sentence. And you know what the response is? Here ya go: Yeah! What the frick "if!"

I can't control the outcome. I can't control what is or is not to be. I don't see what's coming at us around the corner. I function on a limited amount of knowledge and information. But you know who doesn't? God. So we've asked Him for some help here. We've asked Him to choose our home for us, to guide us to wise choices, to take this away of this house will not be a blessing for us or our children, or the community as a whole. The hard part (at least for me), is to now trust in His work.

It's sad that my reality is that I blind my eyes to His goodness. It's sad that time and time again I have closed off my heart to the miracles He has given me: my husband (his life, his presence, his love, his mercy), my children (their lives, their health, their joy), my family, our home, an income, etc etc etc. Why does my heart tend to fall back on doubt? Why am I so unbelieving?! It's stupidity. That's the only thing that makes sense. I am clearly an idiot.

If someone shows you their character, shows you who They are, believe Them. God shows, and I stupidly don't believe.

America, if you're anything like me, I hope that today you will be challenged (as I have been), to believe in God's character. I hope that together, we can keep the black out curtains open, so that we can see outside of our minds and fears and worries, and recognize the good gifts we've been given.

I have no clue if today we'll become homeowners. I have no clue as to what is coming around the bend. But if I choose to not be an idiot, then I know my God has this in His beautiful hands, and I can wait peacefully for His guidance.

Youth Group

America,

Have you ever done something big and huge and completely terrifying? Chief and I are about to do that. We've recently volunteered to take over the high school youth ministry. Say whaaaaaattttt!? Yes, you read that correctly. To be perfectly honest with you? I. am. freaking. out! I was up all night researching studies and outlooks. I've been reading over "how to connect with high schoolers" stuff and regurgitating the frustrating feelings I had as a high schooler. I'm passionate and sick and tired of people who pre determine that high schoolers are young and stupid. I believe wholeheartedly in raising the bar and believing they will meet it.

In my angst, I brought my heart to my Savior. I have big ideas and big dreams and no clue if any of them are plausible. But to be honest, it's so astoundingly important to forget about imagery and remember Love. It's the most easily forgotten foundation. We get hung up on numbers or music or powerful words, we lose the message: Love. God's Love, manifested.

It is my hope and passion that whether there are two kids in our "group" or one hundred, that they all understand two things: 1) God's Love and 2) what they genuinely believe.

I am terrified. Chief and I are messy people with messy lives and sinful hearts. We're complicated and insecure and overwhelmed. But we love, so we will offer what we have to share.

Please join us in praying for the kids we will be meeting soon. Please pray for us to have wisdom and discernment, and open hearts. Pray we will be the hands and feet of Jesus. Pray for protection from sickness and courage to withstand trials. But most of all, America, please pray for us to be God's instruments. May we speak His words, love with His heart, and hold firm to His truth.

Monday Delights

America,

My husband has recently become a bit of a social butterfly. If you know him, you might be saying to yourself what-what!? and I would be saying it right along with you. Take for example this evening. We went out for a ride. Quite frankly, this weekend has been one heck of a crazy carbohydrate consumption event (ovulation nation sucks America... and my uterus--let's not get literal about things America, and roll with "uterus"--demands carbs!) so I needed to ride so that fluffaluffagus will not morph in to orcaluffugus (these are real terms here...).

On "our" ride, Chief stops and befriends some random fellow. "We" proceeded to ride for four miles all by "our"selves, while chatty mc-chatterson had a grand old time. And you know what, America? I loved it! Chief needs to be able to talk to dudes. There's a lot about his job, his leadership stuff, his experiences, that try-as-I-might I just don't fully understand. It's the exact same reasoning for why I need my ladies. As supportive as Chief is, he's not an XX and he just doesn't get some of the components that extra X lays down on my life (if you're behind, America, "XX" are the female chromosomes).

I don't mind riding by myself. The kids made friends, while Chief made friends, and I rode off carb-ville. It was a win-win-win!

In completely unrelated news: I am sick of ingrown hairs today. If you do not suffer from operation sasquatch nation, America, then I envy you. The lengths that I go through to tame the fur on these legs is outrageous! It urks me to NO END when I shave my legs and I look down to see fourteen thousand buried hairs! WUH! They always seem to become illuminated in my mind, as if my brain as labeled them with a hot pink highlighter, and now I'm certain they are all ANYONE can see when they look at my legs. I'm pretty sure the whole world is saying "Did you see her ingrown hairs? Has she heard of tweezers!?" (you have to read this is a stereotypical valley girl voice, or as one of the characters from "Clueless"). I will leave you, so that I may tame the wild beast. Sometimes I'm jealous of the XY... he doesn't have to shave his legs! HA! :)

Molehills

America,

How often do we walk these silent sufferings, and no one knows? How frequently do we navigate endeavors or hurts and no one knows? Sometimes there are scenarios where there is little to say, and nothing to do, but the hurt is big. SO big.

I like to make molehills out of mountains. I like to convince myself that big deals really aren't.

I'm climbing and climbing and I'm mentally wearing out of this incline is little. It's almost over. My muscles are aching and sore and I've got little left in my reserves, if anything at all.

I don't want to talk about it. I want to be able to discuss the emotions, and the lessons learned, while processing in silence. This is my "molehill" and I want to rock it to its core.

It's not that I have anything to prove to anyone, America. It's not that I need you to believe that everything is perfect or lovely or blah blah blah. To be honest, I am much too complicated to waste time on that kind of nonsense. I'm vastly imperfect, and I'm married to a vastly imperfect person. I'm okay with that. I'm even more okay with you being completely aware of it. I am comfortable with being both perfect and deeply damaged. I'm also okay with you not grasping that concept or thinking it makes even the slightest bit of sense.

Don't mind me while I'm over here with my molehills.

Cutting ties

America, ain't nobody got time fo dat. Okay, okay... I'm a total white girl and I am way too old to be saying that. I get it... but I kind of don't care. That sentence is funny, and life is too short to be worried about whether or not other people think I should act like. So I'll say it! HA!

In the past year, a lot has changed in me. I mean, a lot! My focus has shifted and morphed. I've started taking real stock in where my time and focus are. I'm less and less interested in wasting them. I'm more and more focused on the people around me.

Take, for example, television. We are "entertained", generally, by watching people do things (on tv, movies, internet videos, etc) that we are not doing ourselves! I started to be really struck by that. We see pictures of our friends' adventures or we watch shows about awesome DIYers, while we sit on our tushes thinking about how cool it is. Why don't we go out and actually do it?

I've decided to stop watching the world do things, and start actually do it myself. The strange consequence of that is that I'm less interested in the internet. I want to have an actual conversation. I want to connect in a real person way. I want to go out and live, not watch people live enviously! I want to experience things, and push myself. I want to live a life fulfilled, not numbed away.

To be frank, America, I am exhausted by the end of the day. I wake up with a completely different outlook. I've deleted all social media from my phone, which has drastically changed my relationship with both avenues (social media and my phone). Gone are the days of staring away at the cell. Gone are the moments of wondering about the latest gossip on facebook. Yes, I want to know about what's happening with the people I love, but I'm working on new ways to build and foster relationships. Quite sincerely, I want more than the internet is dishing out.

Side note: for the love of humanity this is not a bashing or hating of facebook/twitter/instagram/social-anything. I am not opposed to these sites or convicting them of wickedness. If you use them, and are capable of doing so and still living awesome lives--like many, many, many of the wonderful people in my life--then you rock the casbah and are way cooler than me. I was not able to do this in my life. I changed for myself. Please do not feel that what works for me, must be for you too. I recognize that I am uniquely me and you are uniquely you and it's okay if we do things differently. This is merely me sharing what I've learned and understood in myself recently. It also might change. I'm okay with that too. Just sayin'. :) End side note.

America, I hope that you will examine your own life and see what isn't working and then let it go. I hope you will seek out and foster things that bring you joy and good health. I hope your day will be filled with laughter and love.

The Fellowship

Here it is. The beginning of the end of this endeavor. In some ways, I feel like Frodo... too exhausted to continue, unwilling to let go of this new something that has come as a result of this experience. I feel...

I wish I had words. I wish I was an artist or a musician so that I could paint or play what I can't define because there's too much of it. Too much big and confusing and contradictory stuff to every be able to make sense of it. Yet, my passion for words results in my attempt to do so anyway. In some part, for you America, but mostly because I want to remember for me.

My struggle this past year has been deeply private and personal. Outside of my very inner, inner circle, few have known about what I have navigated. I think there's a lot of beauty in that. There are phases in our life that need to be privately navigated... quietly experienced, and processed. There are undefinable hurts, even for this word loving gal.

I am so immensely excited to be unified again. And so utterly terrified of it too. The journey of last year changed so many things in me, and that makes what is ahead of me look so different, unpredictable, and scary.

I've learned I'm so much more fragile that I ever realized. I've also learned I'm so much more strong too. I've realized so much about my value that I've forgotten or ignored for so many years I can't even describe it. I've found new passions, that were born out of immense embarrassment and challenge, but I genuinely  love  them. I have actually fallen fantastically in this beautiful fascinating love phase for my children. To explain (I have always loved, loved, loved them), I have fallen in love with their fascination for things. I've been able to wake up from the haze of illness and disorders, into how they learn, how they challenge, how they grow. America, I wish I could share with you the absolute beauty in that. I wish I could make you see how much being a Mom has given me such joy. I wish I could show you the tears that pour joyfully out of my eyes at the very thought of them. Most of all, I want them to see it. I want them to understand it and know it deeply in their whole bodies, hearts and minds: they are the most valuable of all values to me. They are worth more than rubies, more than diamonds, more than my "youthful" body, my sleep, my anything. They are priceless and I adore them. Flaws and all. They're a blast to love. Even on the "bad" days.

I've changed. I'm not who I was. I'm still uncomfortable saying "no" but I'm now willing to do it. I've learned to stop trying to please everyone, but to also sift out the people in my life just around for the ride, or the side line tickets to the freak show. I've grown in my deep and immense love for my inner circle of support. These people have shed tears with me in ways you couldn't believe this past year. They've had mercy, when I had none, they've shown love, when I've felt so lost. They've literally been the porch lights for me to follow out of darkness. They are, together, my Samwise Gamgee. This journey would have fallen apart if it wasn't for them carrying me through.

How does one begin to define the feelings? Where do the words begin? I'm not really sure. But I can tell you that this adventure finishes in a matter of hours. Then a new one will begin.

I hope it's a comedy, America. I really like those. :)

Riding

It's been nearly five weeks since I've had a decent ride on my bicycle, with one short day in there as an exception. I was on a medication that kept me off for two weeks (no sun). When I finally finished that, I went for one ride and wrecked my bike and broke my elbow. That was almost three weeks ago. Today, I threw caution to the wind and I got on my bike. I needed it.

To be honest, it was really freaking tough. It's amazing how much strength and endurance one can lose in five weeks. I struggled through a two mile ride. By struggled I mean, I really, really struggled! If I'm being fair here, it was also over a hundred degrees outside, so... let's all smile and nod and say that must have been what was causing the challenge! HA!

I needed to go, as I wrote before. I need the movement of my body pushing against the earth. I need the quieting of all of my thoughts and I need to push myself to the point of exhaustion. I need to feel the wind on my skin and see my body push itself up one.more.hill. I need to conquer myself and my desire to quit. I need to be where I was.

Riding has given me freedom, clarity, comfort. It vents my disappointments, and shows me that I'm stronger than I believed myself capable of being. Even on the days where I struggle through two miles.