The Follow-up Response

I am starting to think there is just one person who reads this blog. I really cannot blame anyone who has abandoned it. This journal tends to be a real downer, which is why I stopped keeping a diary years ago.

Anyway, I did have one [email] response to my last post. It appeared that the person wanted to believe the statement is true. Wisdom followed by saying that God is married to the backslider. Therefore even when we as people give up, He remains true.

Let us not forget that God is perfect. Sure, our relationship with Him works both ways. If we pour ourselves into Him, He will pour Himself into us. (He will not force Himself on anyone, correct?) When we get tired or discouraged and start to fold up like a hibiscus blossom at the end of the day, God remains ~ pouring and pouring and pouring ~ waiting for our response. That fact makes my statement about relationships true. We most certainly do get back what we put into our relationship with Him.

As I said, God is perfect.

People are not.

I would have to say that for the majority, the statement is false. I have only my life experiences upon which to draw, but hear me out. I have been on both sides of this situation and they both leave much to be desired.

In some cases, people have poured themselves into me. They have opened up, shown concern, and made me their focus. In a nutshell, they have loved me and loved me well. Sounds great, except that as these people were 'putting into' our relationship, I was not interested. Consequently, I was not receptive to their efforts, making the whole thing unproductive. Worse, the giving person did not get anything back, and they deserved at least that much.

To be honest, it makes me feel lower than snake snot to be unable to receive and/or reciprocate another person's attentions.

Worse than not being interested in a person's efforts is being on the receiving end of the disinterest. I do know what it is like to be laid bare before someone ~ to love them with everything inside. I understand how it feels to demonstrate, communicate, and encourage to the best of my ability, and have it hit a...wall. No. Not a wall. If my (or anyone else's) efforts were to hit a wall, at least something would bounce back.

No. Instead, the efforts just...melt...disintegrate...into some abyss somewhere never to be returned. The effort is either barely acknowledged or not acknowledged at all, as the person we are trying to pour ourselves into chooses other things...other people...to pour themselves into.

They may even toss in an "I love you" now and again...or give up a few minutes of their day sometimes...but it does not feel right. And we know they do not value...cherish...the relationship as much as we do. They do not see it in the same light. It is not as important. They do not love as deeply or as strongly as we do.

And

It

Hurts.

Badly.

Is it their fault, or is it that our perspective is out of whack? There is a good chance that we find ourselves in this situation only after believing that the other person is in the same place we are ~ that they feel the same ~ that they want the relationship to grow & move ahead.

Is it their fault or do we become too focused on that person? And wouldn't it work out better to focus the energies on God? He is, after all, perfect. He would reciprocate if we let Him.

But we are not perfect. We desire reciprocal actions and feelings from flesh and blood. I do not think God blames us for that.

My (very long-winded) answer to the statement: "True or false: A person gets out of a relationship what s/he puts into it." must sadly be...

False.

True or False?

True or False:

A person gets out of a relationship what s/he puts into it.

Secretary's Day

I did not know today is Secretary's Day, but it is. Evidently, a fourth grade teacher remembered. She just walked into the office with a crumb cake and cards that her students made for us. Some of these cards are a real hoot and I wanted to share them with whomever reads my blog. Note that I am going to post these exactly as they are written. I hope you enjoy!!!

Dear Mrs. Wilson, Thank you for being such a good secrtary. And for registering new students in school, cleaning up things, bringing newspapers to classroom, and other things, and also for being a great kindergarten teacher. Love, Tiana Daniels

Dear Mrs. Wilson, I really want ot thank you for making copies and xerox copies. And taking lot's of messages on the phone. And cleaning up accidents. And register new students. Bringing newspapers to the room if we forget. Making sure we have supplies for our room. And making sure students and teachers receive deliveries. And count money for pictures, fundraisers. And taking attendance. Tell us about the school dress code. And give us band-aids. I'm Just trying to say thank you for all you done! Love, Shamera

I want to thank you Mrs. Wilson for cleaning up accident that we made.

Thanks a hole lot the both of you! Rebecca

Dear Mrs. Wilson, I want to thank yo a lot for what you have done like bring
our newspapers to our class and registering new students and making sure we have our supplies whenever we need it when we need it. Love, Brenda

Thanks Mrs. Wilson. Thank you for making copies because we need it for working. When you answer the phone that is how we now if we have a doctor's aportment. Thanks for bring us the newspaper, so we now how to read. Yesterday a boy throw-up in the cafetire. We had 22 students but you bring 3 more students. We have lot of things because you bring it to us. You make shore we dress right. You help us out alot. When the teacher have to go to the bathroom you come an watch us. Daizhanique

Dear Mrs. Wilson, Thank you for your good work and for you pritistapation and just doing all you can. Thats just a blessing that you have from God. I just trying to say thank you. Xavier

Dear Mrs. Wilson, Thank you for helping the school out, as you might not know I am new to this school and my old school secrutary didn't do as many things as you do. I really appreciate the help & I think the school does too!! Thanks for everything, Kennedy

Dear Mrs. Wilson, Thank you for being a secretary, you are always ther to help us when ever we need help. You make sure we have all of our supplies, you give us band-aids when we are hert. And you mak sure we receive our deliveries. So I just ant to say thank you. Julia

Mrs Wilson, I want to thank you alot for all your hard work as being Sadie Saulter's Secretary. You give our class copies if we need any and sometimes clean up messes. You even register new kids to everybodys clasroom and make school feel like home. I also want to thank-you for sending us newspapers to our classroom.m I hope you keep up all of your good work. From Basel

Thank you for doing the things you do we apreshyaet it and xspecle the teachers. It mains a lot to them. Thank you for sending us newspapers, making sure we have supplies for our room.

Dear Mrs. Wilson, Thank you for making copies and sanding us supplies an stoping what ever your doing. Cleaning up behide us. make sure we get what people bring to us. Bring us our newspapers.

~And the best one!~

Dear Mrs. Wilson, thank you for cleaning up that vomet yesterday. I hope the kid who did said thank you to. if he didn't I'll make sure he does! Because that just rong and gross.

From the teacher of that class: Mrs Wilson - thanks a bunch! You are quick, observant, efficient, and a sure-fire secretary! Guess what? I notice! Keep up the superb work!

Now what a nice warm fuzzy that was. Not that I need the warm - it is plenty warm in this office. The fuzzy, on the other hand, is always welcome!

Whatcha Think About This?

An excerpt from my most recent read:

"Our personal values influence the decision we make both intuitively and intellectually. A person might, for example, purchase a flashy sportscar because he or she values attention or adventure or feeling young again. The car represents a means to that end-although the person may be unable to afford it. Knowing the value behind the manifestation is helpful, because there are other, less expensive ways to satisfy the need for attention, adventure & feeling youthful without spending beyond your budget.

It's wise to look for the underlying value, to prod beyond the surface reason and uncover the more substantive motive.Clarity at this point facilitates decsion making and enables you to grasp what is truly important before making a significant mistake."

[and here's the crux of the matter:]

"This clarification process is critical to effective time management, for if you know your values, you can choose to spend time on your most important agendas. Time management principles of the past were based on prioritizing 'urgent' activities, but a more effective method bases these principles on values. Simply stated, you determine what you value most and that's where you spend your time."

Comments?

Some Interesting Thoughts...

Well, interesting to me, anyway...

Kiddo told me about a conversation she had with her pastor this past Friday night. She gave him a little more detail about my struggle with not being able to play guitar. His comment was something like, "Imagine that - the inability to perform a ministry messing someone up that much." Kiddo then told me her pastor didn't say a whole lot after that. She said he looked thoughtful.

His comment made me think, too. How would a pastor react if he lost the ability to speak? How would Steven Curtis Chapman or Chris Tomlin feel if they could no longer play guitar? What if, God forbid, my daughter lost the ability to dance? How would they respond if they could not perform the ministry they feel God has given them? I would be so bold as to say it would "mess them up", too.

My point is not a defensive one. See, part of my problem has been that I have felt guilty for taking this so hard. I have been beating myself up for being a selfish, whiny little child when I know there are other people out there with worse troubles than mine. Well, guess what? Through Elliotte's comment, I realized that it is okay to grieve this loss. It is okay to feel angry and abandoned. However, it is not okay for me to beat myself up about grieving.

I think that is where I have been stuck. I have constantly been telling myself that I do not deserve to feel the way I do. That was wrong. I most certainly do have a right to feel the negative emotions I have been feeling. I have been in a vicious cycle of grieving and then berating myself for grieving. Beating myself up for my feelings has kept me from processing them. Imagine that.

It is time for that to stop. And guess what? When these thoughts came together in my head, I felt a tiny sliver of peace.

Other good little tidbits:

A friend of mine made a real sacrifice for my sake today. She came to Abundant Life Church with me. I do not want to betray her confidence by giving details. Suffice it to say it was a very difficult thing for her to do, but she did it for me because she cares about me. Wow. Because of her own struggle, I felt I had to stay there when I wanted to run away. I could not leave her there after she had made that sacrifice for me. See how that worked?

AND...I had the distinct pleasure of holding Pastor Elliotte & Melissa's new son for the majority of praise and worship. I think that was a good thing, too. Holding that sweet little one kept me from running out when I had the desire to do that very thing. You know what else?? He spit up on me three times. And it made me laugh. I felt very accepted by that precious bundle ~ and I have the stains on my suit jacket to prove it!!

After church Shannon and Matthew, Andy and I went to Chico's for lunch. We had good conversation and some laughs...the flaring nostril vs. the Shirley Temple sword!!

I forgot a few things at the grocery store yesterday so I went back to Kroger after lunch. It has been such a beautiful day today ~ I wanted to get in a long walk but it was already 2pm so...I decided to walk the majority of the strip mall. What benefits! A brisk pace out in the fresh air and sunshine (absorbing natural vitamin D). I called Kiddo and about 7 minutes later she was beside me.

Well yeah, we shopped! I found a pair of shoes at Shoe Carnival & at Target Kiddo got 2 pair of flip flops and a pair of sunglasses...and I found yet another pair of shoes. (They have been a real weakness of mine lately.) We walked all the way down to Barnes & Noble where I looked for a housewarming gift but couldn't find what I wanted ~ and then treated us to a caramel frapp & a redeye coffee. We had the long walk back to Kroger, and when I got home I tossed on shorts and a tank top. Within a matter of minutes I was lounging in the sun on my deck.

An hour later, I woke up.

Could it be...two good days in a row??

I think I feel the stirrings of hope in my heart.

I Had Fun Today!!

Yes people, it is possible for me to have fun. Hard to fathom, I know...but there ya go.

Pat and I went bowling. Now, I normally go bowling about once a year, but this was my second time in 4 months! It only requires one good hand - which isn't so good afterwards - so it is something I can do.

Anyway, just like kiddo, my son is good company. We make each other laugh. And I did well considering my lack of practice. I rolled a 479 series, which is a 159+ average. I had a 181 game! The other two were much more my "normal" scores.

Right before our first game was over, the lane beside us lit up and half dozen kids with 2 female adults joined us. I thought it would be miserable. Turns out, it was really fun! The kids were excited and the two adults were keeping a handle on their noise and activity levels.

Eighties music was playing. (Can you say, 'boo-yeah!'? I knew you could) At one point, The Cars' song, "Shake It Up" came on. I wasn't surprised, given the culture of the children, when they started singing "shake your butt." Upon careful listening, I could see how they'd think that was the correct lyric. At any rate, a couple of them started doing just that. They would grab their ball, walk/skip/run to the line, shake their butts, and throw the ball. Cute!!

Pat and I decided we wanted "hot, fresh pretzels." Pat goes up to the concession counter only to find out there weren't any made. The people nicely offered to heat some up for us, and since we were going to be there for awhile, that was fine. About ten minutes later, I started to smell something and made a comment that our pretzels were being burnt. Five minutes after that, Pat goes back up to the counter and guess what? My nose was accurate! Ten minutes after that, we were brought hot, fresh, and unburnt pretzels. They were pretty good.

I don't know how much you know about bowling, but the left side of the headpin is call the Brooklyn side. I do not know why, though I think I probably know someone who does. Anyway, I was not having much luck getting strikes in the usual right-hand pocket. So I told Pat I was going to try the Brooklyn side. I had to explain to him what it was, too. In the third game, Pat talked about using the Broadway side....talk about me laughing out loud!

And then....the very last frame of the the third game, Pat rolled his ball and got seven pins. It was a fairly difficult spare because of one pin shadowing another. It takes pretty much a dead-on hit to take all three pins out. Pat looks at me and says, "I'm gonna do a pimp shot!" I didn't know what he meant. He palmed the bowling ball and on his approach he wrapped the ball behind his back. On the release he put it on the far right gutter and gave it so much spin....that ball curved right in...and took out all three pins! Being the tenth frame, Pat got another chance. He "pimped" it again, putting it on the far right gutter just like previous time, but he spun it so much it went into the left gutter just three feet down the lane. More laughter.

There's so much more, but I guess most of it is a "you had to be there" type of thing. Pat pulls out random voices & personnae ~ makes movie quotes and references ... and all of this did me a lot of good today.

I know I whine and pout a lot. There are a lot of things about which I am unsure. BUT! One thing of which I have no doubts: my children are a blessing to me. They are two very different people and I appreciate very much the young people they have become. They meet different needs in my life. Who'd have thunk it?

You Always Hurt the One You Love

This song popped into my head a few moments ago. I could not recall any of the lyrics except that opening line. Oh..and the other thing I remembered was Scott Hamilton's comedic ice skating routine to the same tune.

So..let us take a look at some of the lyrics:

You always hurt the one you love
The one you shouldn't hurt at all
You always take the sweetest rose
And crush it til the petals fall
You always break the kindest heart
With a hasty word you can't recall
So if I broke your heart last night
It's because I love you best of all
It's because I love you best of all

The first point I want to make is that I do not feel as though I have been on the receiving end of the crushing, hurting, breaking. It is my impression that I have been on the giving end. I believe my thinking has been too self-centered. Of course, that hasn't been my intention, nor did I consider that statement to be true at the time of the crushing, hurting, breaking. It always comes in hindsight. After the emotional storm has blown over. The problem I have is that the emotional storm does not blow over unless I blow it onto someone. I do not seem to possess the ability to ride the storm on my own and until it subsides. That is my fault, my weakness, my shortcoming. I apologize to all of the people on whom I have "thrown up."

Next, of course we always hurt the ones we love. It is not that hard to figure out. We go to the ones we love when we are experiencing distress or are in some sort of need. Meaning, they get the full blow of our current state of mind/heart. And we expect them to just take it time after time. It is a good thing remorse is part of the human conscience and that the words "I'm sorry" are in our vocabulary. There is something else we can do to help ease the negative blows: make sure to share the joyful times with those same loved ones who help us bear our burdens.

Finally, we hurt the ones we love because there is a good chance that if we love them, they love us back. Therefore, not only do they hurt when expected to absorb our negative emotions by getting bashed, they are genuinely sad when we are hurting. They hurt because we hurt. This facet is, of course, unintentional on the part of the "Giver of the Hurt." It is called compassion. Having a compassionate nature is a wonderful quality to possess but many times it causes us to experience more hurt than others might.

Oh. That reminds me of something I thought about yesterday: Compassion is bred out of experience. We go through something difficult and hurtful ~ then we see someone else go through a similar situation and we "feel" for them. So, even though compassion is a largely painful emotion, it is a good one to have. It is avenue through which we can identify with another person.

I guess my main message with this entry is to apolgoize for hurting the ones I love who love me back...and to help me get over beating myself up for the times when I have hurt others.

Impressions of Alexandria

* Even the birds do not sleep, so it is okay that I didn’t, either

* The season is running a week or 10 days behind us

* Cherry Blossoms are a heckuvalot prettier than Bradford Pears

* Location does not matter as much as the company you keep

* The best ideas come in the wee small hours of the morning

* Setting a car alarm in a busy parking lot is just as stupid here as it is at home

* The traffic does not seem as bad to me - a tourist- as it does to the residents

* Apartment life is not as bad as I remember, even with the following:
~a heated argument below me at 2:15am
~someone across the hall coming home at 2:30am
~someone else’s alarm going off at 7:00...but it was okay, I was not asleep

It felt like a community. People calling up and down to each other from balconies and friendly conversation in the elevators….even the firemen were polite, saying “excuse me” as they walked by with their gear after what appeared to be another false alarm.

excerpt...

I would like just to be silent
but being silent I lie ~ Jerzy Ficowski

I asked for this....

It's my own fault.
I did it to myself.

I opened my heart as far as it could be.
No holds barred, nothing hidden.
Trusted Completely.

Vulnerable.

Insecure.

Defenseless.

Petrified.

...

I don't know why I keep trying so hard...

I give up.

Something Upbeat for a Change..

I really should have posted this sooner but...there ya go.

Last Friday I had a really spiffy time with someone. This person and I don't spend as much time together as we used to and that's okay. It is the natural progression of things. Still, when we do have time to spend and neither one of us is overly tired or stressed, we have a ball!

Oh my gosh..we went shoe shopping! Now, please understand that both this person and I have problems with finding shoes that fit properly or look "right" on our feet. We have decided that shoes are manufactured for people with small, pretty feet and dainty toes. We do not fit into that category! Therefore, shoes have become the enemy. The enemy must be hunted down and killed before they hurt someone...except for the rare finds...the precious gems that seem to be made for us.

FIVE pair of shoes and three hours later, Shannon and I left the Colonial Mall. (What's with that name, anyway? It isn't decorated in Colonial and in fact, there is nothing Colonial about it!) Aaanyway...somehow a pair of jeans, a belt, a tank top, two white cherry icees and a bag of popcorn made it into our hands, as well.

And we joked. And laughed. And had some serious conversation, too. I felt so much better when we left that place...walking a long distance in the rain to get back to my car...and I didn't even care.

This weekend, Shannon and I are headed up to DC. I can't wait! She's really fun on a road trip and I know she will help with the driving. I need to take advantage of whatever time I can get with her before she moves away. I am really going to miss her.

It is awesome...fabulous...miraculous...when your daughter becomes one of your best friends.

Well, I did it...

I did it. I went to church yesterday. It was disastrous. I wish I could tell you something different, that it went smashingly well, but I can't. Let me tell you a little about what happened:

By the time I left the house, I was visibly shaking. I was scared. I just did not know what to expect. Isn't that weird? I have been going to my church for almost ten years and I did not know what to expect?

More to the point, I did not know how I would react/respond to being there. My possible reactions were my source of fear. I did not trust myself and my raw emotions ~ I knew I probably would not be able to keep them in check. Turns out, I was right.

So I get to the church parking lot and parked in a spot that wasn't very occupied. I thought it was a good place from which to make a getaway. Only trouble is, an usher/parking lot attendant came up to me and said, "Ma'am, we have certain people we like to park in these spaces so if you don't mind..." I just said, "Okay!" in the cheeriest voice I could muster and shut my car door...maybe a little too abruptly. I moved my vehicle into a designated (via another usher in an orange vest) parking space and sat there for five minutes trying to muster up my courage. Then, I walked into the building.

The band struck up and much to my chagrin, both sets of double doors that lead from the church's lobby into the sanctuary were left open! I made a quick dash into the coffee shop and grabbed a cup. I stayed in there for just a couple of moments but the lure of music was too much to be ignored.

I wandered back out of the cafe' and slowly moved toward those threatening double doors. I didn't make it all the way to the doors when I got my first glance of the band and the worship leaders. The bass player caught sight of me right away. Nobody else did, that I could tell. My stay at the doors lasted a few seconds before I bid a hasty retreat.

Somebody saw me hanging in the lobby and came to me. He hugged me and asked why I was standing outside the lobby. I made some glib reply and he responded with, "It's not against the law to go in." I had another fast comeback ready and then watched him walk away from me and into the sanctuary.

Alone again. This whole time I was fighting tears, and sometimes they spilled over. With each new song I wandered back to those doors to have a peek, but just could not bring myself to go in!

Finally, I heard the acoustic player start what I knew was going to be the last song. About halfway through, I moved toward the doors again. I slid to the left and looked at the soundboard in search of a friendly and familiar face - the sound tech who has been there forever. I did not see her, but low and behold...Pastor Barry. He isn't "pastor" anymore, but he'll always be one to me. This man shepherded me with a lot of love and high expectations. He showed and expressed more confidence in me and my abilities than anyone who'd ever pastored me before. Consequently, he got more out of me and got me to do more than anyone else ever had, simply because I had confidence in his confidence in me. (Note that I did not have confidence in myself.)

With my eyes fixed on him, I moved into the sanctuary. I stood a little behind him and off to one side. He's distractable so I knew it would not be long before he turned his head around. When he saw me, he opened his arms and I moved into a gentle, caring hug. Barry asked how I was and the floodgates were opened.

Poor Barry! He just does not handle tears well. He tried to make jokes, told me I looked nice, and went back to the jokes. I tried to make it easy for him. I turned the subject to him and then ultimately to the way the sound was being run. After pointing out a few things Barry said, "Well you know, when your sound tech isn't a musician, they don't think about those little nuances." He's probably right.

By that time, Pastor Mike was headed up to do the announcements and preliminaries before the offering. Out of respect, I moved away from Barry and found a seat at the very end of the very last row, nearest the doors where I could make a fast, clean getaway if need be.

Andy played the intro for the offering and I sat stock still - more like frozen - in my chair. I'd heard that our senior pastor wasn't going to be preaching and that just added to my "flight" status. When the offering was about over, I made a beeline to those precious doors and around to the back, where I knew Andy would be coming out to join me.

His first words to me? "Man...you look like a rat in a trap!" That's how I felt. That is -exactly- how I felt. I told him about the guest speaker. Andy suggested we go into the choir room and with the rest of the band and singers. I thought it was worth a try but the second I set my foot in the door, I froze up. I do not know if Andy caught it or not but much to my relief he suggested that we head to the cafe' for coffee. I told him I'd buy and that was that.

We spent the entire service sitting in the lobby, drinking coffee and talking about my situation. I really hate the fact that I'm whining and pouting so much. A few people came by to chat ~ one who has muscular dystrophy and is having a terrible time with it. Boy, did I feel like a baby, then!

The time came for Andy to head back to play for second service and my feet took to flight. Back to the safety of my home. The day did not really get any better from there. In fact, parts of it were worse. And I did a really dumb thing: I went to Wal*blech*Mart. BAD idea. Truly bad.

I have been thinking a lot since yesterday, trying to figure out why I am so upset about this guitar thing. I am a real believer in examining motives so that is what I did.

The first thing I asked myself was if I wanted to play in order to get recognition. I shot down that theory very quickly. Whenever some stranger in a public place gets a flash of recognition on their face and says, "Heeeeeeeeey! Aren't you the girl with the pink guitar?" I feel embarrassed and shy. There are people who have been with me when this has happened and they could tell you the same. Not much in the way of glory hound behavior, is it?

Playing guitar was one way I could serve God and my brothers and sisters while doing something I truly love. Music has always been an important part of my life - it ranks right up there with coffee! This does not mean I put music ahead of everything. It simply means that I have a love...a desire...and I was able to use it for good. That is gone, now. I do not know what to do now in order to serve God and man. I have searched my heart and soul to see if there is any other desire within me. There is just nothing there. Nothing.

So..I feel like I am not serving..doing something for the advancement of my/our beliefs.

And..there's the fact that I got some of my self-worth by being able to play. I felt I had something of value to offer and now I have been stripped of that. Somewhere in my tortured brain, the connection has been made that I am not as valuable as I was when I could play.

That's the bottom line, I think. I feel worthless. Of no value. What do I have to offer? What can I give if I cannot play?

It is worse than that, though. This feeling of worthlessness is starting to spill into other areas of my life. I am not worthy of other things. I am of no value so I should not be treated well. I should not be able to achieve the things I seek.

This terrible mindset is dictating the types of conversations I have and the way I think about the world in general. I am becoming more and more reclusive. I want to be left alone. I crave quiet. I know I'm hurting the people who care about me, but I don't feel that I have the strength to stop this vicious cycle.

Can you say, "Depression?" Good! I knew you could! You are worthy of a gold star. Maybe you should get more than one. After all, you read this entire post.

Thanks.