getting my groove back

Seems like a lifetime since I've written. The summer of 2014 has stretched itself out over what seems like a year. It was full of lazy mornings and late night movies in the family room.
Beach days, pool days, and some boring days.
I probably made the kids 2 dozen batches of stovetop popcorn and they've consumed gallons of lemonade.
We got off the take-out food train and I've prepared most every meal at home.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, baby! Just like a boss.

Usually, I start summer break so petrified of doing the back to school rush again; the time slips through my fingers, even though I'm trying to grasp it and hold on.
This year was different because I didn't have that pressure looming.
The kids are officially enrolled in online public school and I couldn't be happier about it.
Sure, I'll miss certain things about their fancy private school, but I'm finally excited about our new life.
This easy-breathing I've been doing is a welcomed change in my life.

If you had asked me 6 months ago what I wanted more than anything I would've said "balance".
I was trying to do so many things at once, and I couldn't think of one area in my life that wasn't being cheated. Now everything is different and I am so thankful.

After quitting my job, it took me a month to find a new one. I was trying to enjoy the downtime, but It was financially stressful. While I waited, I got my house clean and (a little more) organized, started meal planning, repotted my houseplants, stuff like that. I was also taking my last prerequisite for the nursing program. Now I just need to retake the entrance exam and HOPEFULLY start the program in January.

I started back at Starbucks in July. It's a mixed bag for me. I love that the store is close to my house, and in my favorite part of town. I love the crazy partners that make me laugh and getting a free pound of coffee every week. I just feel like I'm living in yesteryear as it bring so many memories of doing that job from 2005-2010. It makes me miss my friends in Alabama. And it's also hard work; which is okay, but I'm not a spring chicken, y'all. Oh, speaking of my age status, every single new friend at work has had a conniption-fit when they learned I'm 39.

Here's the basic progression:
I mention my kids in conversation,
they say: oh. you have kids?
I say: yes, 3 of them.
they: ask their ages.
I say: 16,14,11
they say: what? you have teenagers?!
I say: yes, I'm older than I look.  I'm almost 40.
They say: NO! you're lying
I say: who would lie about turing 40?

I guess aging well is cool.

As the new school year begins, I am full of gratitude for so many things. Although I fought, and bargained against, and resisted almost every change that has come my way, I am starting to see it come together. I am seeing that what I perceived as loss was really mercy being given. I feel it now. I feel the mercy. Especially when I walk down the school-supply aisle at target and need 5 things instead of 500.

For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland. 

Isaiah 43:19

 

it takes a village

Wow, I've been writing a lot lately. I've been going through so much and it seems putting my fingers to the keys is the greatest release. And the tears, good gracious, the tears.

I found out this morning that I passed Chemistry.
I took the final on Monday morning and I've been a nervous wreck waiting for the grade to post.
I probably checked my email a thousand times, and threw my head back in frustration every time is wasn't there. I knew in my heart I had passed, but it still needed to be official.
This morning when I checked my phone at 5:something to see how much longer I had to sleep, my finger automatically went for the email tab. Muscle memory from the last 48 hours.
There it was among the flash sale warnings and daily ads that litter my life.
Guys, I got a B on my final.

This was such a hard class and it confused me so much. But I could feel that just under the surface, I
understood it. But there was something blocking me, I was overwhelmed.
Another student told me I was over-thinking it and I wanted to punch her in the face, but now I know she was right. I was looking at the information as a whole instead of breaking it down into little parts and I was mentally checking out- this is story of my life.
About 2 weeks ago, everything started coming together, but I had already tested sub-par on 3 units.
Now, I realize it wasn't that hard at all. And to be honest, I kinda liked doing the formulas and conversions.
Anyway, blah.  College is stressful.

But the reason I sat to write today is because with this success, I feel like I need to make a acceptance speech. And I would be remiss if I didn't thank my village of supporters.
They listen to me ramble and make concessions of failure even though I'm still winning.
They tell me I can do it, even though I don't believe them half the time.
And this term, something even more amazing happened.
Someone believed in me with word and deed.

It was the night of the payment deadline for sumer term. My financial aid hadn't come through and the class was set to drop at midnight. This is a very popular class and it was full. If I lost my spot I would have to wait for fall term, which would delay me applying for the program.
Chemistry was a prerequisite for this class and honestly I didn't think I was going to pass anyway.
I had accepted that my whole timeline was thrown off; I had accepted my loss.
It was done.

That was until I get a text from one of my dearest friends asking when I was going to apply.
I proceeded to tell her the saga. (If you know me, you know there's always a saga.)
I'm busy laying it all out when I see the words come across the screen:
"I'll loan you the money to pay for the class."

The  rest of the conversation went something like this:

ME: What? No.
It's pointless, I'm probably not going to pass chemistry.

Friend: I want to. I know I'm supposed to.

I let her pay for the class with every bit of dread, but I was determined to make her proud. I knew how much she believed in me, and it went so much further in my heart than just the money. I hadn't even thought of making a way to pay for that class because I didn't believe I would get there. Isn't that sad? But it goes to show, God's strength is made perfect in my weakness.

So thank you, village.
I couldn't do it without you.
Every pep talk. Every listening ear.
You have filled me with hope and carried me with faith.
I am by no means done, but it feels like a nice place to stop and breathe.
That is for 2 weeks until summer term starts.

Another day, another layer.

As a mother, it's not unusual to worry. Even though people tell you not to, even though Jesus tells you not to, it seems the very second you see the lines on a pregnancy test and you know you're officially responsible for another person, there's a permanent pit of anxiety in your stomach. 

Speaking of anxiety, my family is in a time of transition. We've decided not to send the children to the private school they've attended for the last 3 years. There's several reasons, the main one being financial. But it's also because it doesn't seem like the right fit for them anymore. They seem fine with this choice, but I've been a mess. I'm hypersensitive to the sad part of uprooting them, and I have to force myself to think about all the ways this will be good for them. Change will always be a little sad, but sometimes the unknown holds the greatest sense of hope and wonder. That's what I'm clinging to. They're such amazing kids and they each have something so special about them. Instead of dwelling on what they'll miss at their old school, I'm opening my heart to what God has for them around the corner. 

And it's also a time of transition for me, too. I'm enrolled in the final prerequisite class for nursing school. In fact, I can apply now for fall term. The big elephant in the room is chemistry and whether or not I'll pass. This class has me by a choke hold, threatening to put my entire future in jeopardy if I don't make sense of its madness. 

I'm trying. chemistry. Don't be such a jerk! 

I totally digress. 

I was driving yesterday, talking to The Lord about how much I want my kids to have a sense of belonging in this world. How do I teach my 2 introverts, who are so emotionally exhausted by the time Thursday rolls around each week, that it's normal (for introverts) and they have to keep pushing though? Will I teach them to be strong enough? How many mental-health days is too many? I want to prepare them for real life while keeping them in a bubble from this cruel world. I want them to be happy.

I asked The Lord, "Am I doing the right thing?" 

This is when The Lord started speaking to the deepest place of my heart. It's the place where we keep the dreams we have for our kids. The place, like a womb, that is saturated. Saturated in love. In worry. In hope. 

He told me not to compare the choices I make for my family to anyone else's. He also began to give me a vision for how important my children are to Him, and it left me wondering why I ever worry at all. 

He will lead me as I lead them.

He is the shepherd of my heart. 

I pulled into the grocery store parking lot and just wept my eyeballs out. It's this reoccurring theme of learning to cast my cares on him. We carry so much, we don't even realize how much until some of it gets lifted. I think the tears were from the pure relief of a lighter burden. 

Taste and see that The Lord is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in Him. Psalm 34:8

the heart of the matter.

In a few short weeks, I'll be leaving my job. 

It's been at the center of my life for the last 4 years and it's served me well, but it's time for a change. 

I've been caught off guard by my emotions over this transition.

I thought I knew what I was getting myself into because I've been thinking about this for a while. But the truth is, I hate saying goodbye.

I'd assume just walk away than to feel the sting of goodbye tears.
When I cry, I get sweaty and weird, which usually is chased by nervous laughing. 
When it comes to matters of the heart, composure escapes me too often to count. 
Another layer of dignity is gone; just like that. 
What can I say; I wear my heart on my sleeve.

I work with pre-school aged kids, and I love them so much. 

They've been my little friends and filled me with the greatest joy. 
Usually, the ones you get to know best are the spunky and naughty ones. Those are my favorite because once you establish the boundaries, they become the most rewarding. They give the biggest hugs, and expel the loudest happy squeals when they see you coming. 
Their untamed hearts love deep and wide.
And they challenge me to live wilder, more free. 
They've also taught me to have more patience. You'd think after so long I'd have less patience, but no, they made me better. It's what kids do. 


People think working with children is somehow less important than most other things, when in fact the opposite is true. Whenever I questioned the value of my job and began to wonder if I'd better enjoy myself elsewhere, I was always met with some exchange that renewed my heart. So often, I've whispered my thanks to the Lord that over and over, I was in the right place at the right time. I got to see and hear the most beautiful things.
These moments are treasures hidden in my heart. My reward. 

This weekend, among several other goals, I'd vowed to get my emotions in check. The thing that was annoying me the most was I couldn't pinpoint exactly how I was feeling. I asked for help and in typical fashion, the Lord spoke to me through music lyrics.

This time it was Don Henley:

I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter

                                              Because the flesh will get weak

And the ashes will scatter

So I'm thinkin' about forgiveness

Forgiveness

Even if, even if you don't love me anymore

And there it was, clear as day. It's a break-up song. And it's exactly how I'm feeling. 

I've poured my heart into this job for so long and I care about it so much, but it's over. I have to let go. I'm at the part where I can see my ex starting to move on and although I'm happy for him and I don't want him back, it still makes me sad.   

The lyrics helped me put everything into perspective. Although I don't have unforgiveness towards people, I have frustrations and perfectionism issues which amounts to the same thing. And there's definitely things I need to forgive myself for. I was overwhelmed by the ever-daunting heart of the matter and searching for reassurance when I really just need to move on and make room for the new thing ((cough, nursing school.))

At the beginning of the year, I asked for help in learning to release things. I am a major burden-bearer, which isn't a bad thing. The bible says: Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ. But also, Jesus says: Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 

I don't know what I'll do for a job, or when I'll get accepted into the program.

I don't know a lot of things, but I know I'll be okay. 

I don't know where it is yet, but I have a place. in fact, I am seated in heavenly places. 

Find me somewhere between the heavy burden and the easy yoke, looking for balance. 
Find me always ready to take care of people.
Find me also learning to take care of myself. 
Find me ever grateful for the way the Lord Loves me. 

I'm free to do what I want, any old time.

The older I get, the more I appreciate my freedom to chose.
I live in a country where I am free, nobody tells me what to do.
Sure, I'm assigned tasks and certain things are asked of me, but I always have a choice.

Over the last few years, I see personal freedom from a whole new angle.
Maybe the years have made me a little wiser, and less entitled, or maybe I'm just now realizing something that isn't that much of a revelation at all. Maybe you knew this all along.
But I'll share anyway.
I've realized personal freedom isn't about doing or saying what you want when you want. It's about having nothing to prove, therefore being okay when you don't get to say your piece.
It's about apologizing when you're wrong, and being quick to forgive.
It's about choosing mercy.
It's about taking responsibility for your actions.
It's about knowing that seeking justice will leave me empty, seeking Jesus is always the better option.

This lesson didn't come easy, y'all.
It came through the fire of personal experience, as my dad would say.
It came through the death of a family relationship. It might as well been a real death, it hurt me so bad.
Ultimately, I was powerless to this person- and that's not typical for me.
She seemed to hold all the cards all the time.
Bullies seem so brave and bold with their reckless words and actions.
I was outraged at how freely she spewed.
I wanted to fight for the truth.
The injustice mocked me as I laid awake at night, watching the ceiling fan swirl.
I would rehearse, and plead for a conversation where I could, just for once, have the upper hand.
"Please, God" I'd say. Just let me tell her. She needs to know.
But I was always met with the same answer, "No."
No.
No.
No.
Finally, I stopped asking.
And it stopped mattering as much.
And then eventually it barely mattered at all.

And then, oh my gosh, I don't even care anymore.

Hi. I'm free.

You see, now I can look at the whole situation thorough the lens of hindsight and I see she didn't have the upper hand at all. She had no power, no cards. She was grasping for straws. She was desperate.
But I was, too. Because instead of forgiving her and moving on, I was stewing and plotting in my own way.
I was a prisoner to my quest for justice
See the irony there?

On this Easter night, I asked the Lord to show me what things in my life need to be buried; the things am I holding onto that keep me from freedom. Because there's always something trying to creep in. An offense, a fear, an injustice.  I've learned the real secret is believing in His power, the power to make paths straight, the power to redeem and shine in the darkest places. He is the resurrection and the life, anyone who believes in Him will live, even after dying.
What more is there?
Just believe God can handle it and live in the light of His love.

This is my definition of freedom.
What's yours?

So Whatcha' Want?

Some days, I get in a certain mood where I need something, but I don't know what it is.

I find myself brainlessly staring at my phone as if it's going to give me an answer. 

It's basically trying to cure information overload with more information. 

And it always leaves me feeling empty.

I'm so thankful for my iphone, but I see the toll that constant information takes on my introvert self. It sucks the life force out of me, and yet, I keep coming back for more.

The screen has a "moth-to-the-flame" effect on me and I feel so ashamed because I'm not a moth. 

What is this power of light that captivates us?

What is this unquenchable thirst for information?

This isn't some technology bashing party. I love technology.

I can learn algebra without being away from my children.

I can see my nieces and nephews grow up even though they're hundreds of miles away.

I can keep in touch with my treasured friends.

I can face-time with my mom.

I can pay a bill without needing a stamp.

I can take unlimited pictures. 

I just don't like the hold it has on me. 

Today, I was really needing some reassurance. 

I sent a text and was feeling desperate waiting for a response.

Finally, the response came and although it was lovely,

I still felt empty. 

Then, I heard the Lord speak to me by using some of my favorite lyrics from the 90's.

"where do you get your information from, huh?"

Yes, God used beastie boys lyrics to get my attention. 

He can, after all, do whatever he wants because he's God. 

So naturally, I opened my bible app. LOL

There it was, the verse of the day, and per usual, it spoke to EXACTLY what I was needing reassurance about. 

Why didn't I start there?

Who knows.

But my father will do what he's gotta do to make sure I end up there.

At his feet, humbled by his love for me. 

We're all living in the information age, but we do have a choice. 

And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.

Philippians 4:8 

It's no secret I like to bake. And for the last few years, it's been about cupcakes.

Cake can be tricky, but there's a few things that make a really big difference. 

Like making sure butter, eggs, and milk are room temp. 

Sifting the dry ingredients, and using high quality vanilla extract. 

Oh vanilla extract, how I love thee.  

And the best deal in the world is found at Hobby Lobby. 

I usually get a 4 oz bottle for around $5, after coupon. That is a really great deal, but this year, we found a 9 oz bottle that ended up being $6, after coupon. That's enough to make my day. I even texted a few friends to boast about my find. Nerd, much? Yes I am.

I always make my buttercream frosting with 2 sticks of unsalted butter and a pound of sifted powdered sugar. 

At the end of mixing time, I put a splash of milk, a few tsp of vanilla, a few drops of both almond and butter extract.  The smell is heavenly. In fact, I'm pretty sure actual heaven will smell like almond extract and new baby. The sweetest smells I know.  Getting your icing to the correct consistency takes practice. Always beat it for a little longer than you think it needs; this will make it smooth and creamy. If it's too thin, add more sifted sugar, if it's too thick, add another splash of milk. If you still have questions, call me.  

As far as cake goes, I've narrowed it down to two perfect recipes. I admire bakers who go for creative themes, but chocolate and vanilla is all I need. Oh, and the occasional batch of champagne ones for special occasions.
For the chocolate, the best cocoa to use is hershey's special dark.
The texture of this cake is amazing, y'all. You will not be disappointed. Thank you, Real Simple for being awesome.

I always make minis and I always half the recipes, so I don't end up with 1000 cupcakes, and I always give most of them away. 

Here's to a new year with plenty of occasions to bake.

Remembering

Tonight, I lit a candle for Eric. 

My list-topper for favorite friend. 

He left us too soon and I miss him so much. 

As I sat and watched the flame twinkle, I wondered how many times he made me laugh. A thousand? A million? I still laugh thinking of him, but it's usually chased by a tear, or vice-versa. 

This is all I really have to say, it just wouldn't have felt right to let the day pass without a tribute to my friend. 

And in honor of him, I'd like to wish you a happy non-denominational-wintertime holiday. (This was his answer to retail establishments keeping Christmas all-encompassing.)

Always show love, 

-me 

thanksgivings past

I've been busy the last few days planning, shopping, and obsessing over Thanksgiving. What is it about cooking a bird that's approximately the size of a human torso that evokes anxiety?

When I feel my anxiety rising, I just figure I'm channelling my Memaw. She was a ball of nerves in the kitchen, but she was also the best cook in the world.
She attempted to combat the nerves with bottomless champagne flutes and Virginia slims cigarettes, but regardless, there was always a moment when the sh*t hit the fan.
It was the height of emotion, when everything was almost done, yet needed its final touches all at the same time. The moment that separates culinary perfection from an over-cooked, dry flop of a meal.
The moment she banished everyone from the kitchen and scolded anyone who was irritating her. She was the commander and chief of that kitchen, no qualms about it. This would often result in tears from unsuspecting plus-ones, but you couldn't blame her. She was creating a meal that was impossibly delicious. And in those final moments, she always won the battle. Always.
Then we all sat around the table and basked in the glow of candlelight, and of her.

The last Thanksgiving I had with Memaw was in 1999. I was 8 months pregnant with Abraham. I miss her so, so much. This Thanksgiving meets me with this familiar dread of missing her and old traditions. Reminding myself to release certain expectations and embrace what I have. I'm proud of whatever parts of her I can channel, even if it is just shoddy nerves, I'll take what I can get because she is absolutely my hero.

Tomorrow, I'll raise my glass to her and whisper my gratitude for all those perfect Thanksgivings in her kitchen.

As the sun sets on this day, October 19, 2013, my heart is full of emotions.

It's been a week of highs and lows. A 70th birthday celebration for my dad, a close friend had a miscarriage, so much school work, 2 major tests (that I did well on!) Carlos sister came for a visit,
Alexandria's 1st homecoming dance tonight, and it's also Matthew's 11th birthday.

11 years ago I was in my bed, holding a (not-so-tiny) tiny baby. Tonight, scenes from that day run through my mind like an old movie reel spinning. I miss that day, I miss that baby. But I love the big kid he's become.

And yesterday, I thought my head might explode when Alexandria begged me to return the original homecoming dress we had purchased for a new one she liked better. Shopping was the last thing I wanted to do. We had family coming over, and every minute we tarried put us closer to horrific rush-hour traffic. She needed a new dress, she had no shoes, she had no accessories. And suddenly, I had no life-force left in my body. I needed to find a place where I could roll up into the fetal position and chill for a while. Teenage girls are draining!
But then I thought about all the times that I just need a little help. A little grace. Isn't it so great when someone swoops in and saves the day? I thought of my dad and mom and how they still save the day for me when I need it. It's what parents do.
In less than 30, minutes we had it all figured out. A new dress; a new lease on life.
Note to self: it's okay to say yes sometimes.

And while prepping my sweet friend's dinner, my heart was just broken for her. But it seemed that making soup was a direct line to the holy spirit. In those simmering smells came the sweetest relief. By taking care of her, I was taking care of myself. And I realized just how much of an honor it is to nurture others.

Today I walked by a group of nursing students outside the library. They were wearing their scrubs and talking shop. I got so heart-poundy! Like they were celebrities or something. That's going to be me, y'all.  **squeal**

So as I close the door on the last seven days, I feel enormous gratitude for each of these heightened emotions.

Bittersweet that my baby is so big already.
Pride over my beautiful daughter.
Heartbreak over a loss.
Excitement for my future.

It all swirled around me like a funnel cloud, knocking over some walls, busting out some windows.
And I have this new light, fresh breeze.

Most of all, I have this hope as an anchor for my soul.

joy drops.

Today was the first day of fall term. sigh.
My 8th term; feels like 80.
To say the novelty of college has worn off is an understatement.
I walked onto campus feeling more like I was going for a root-canal than for anything good or praiseworthy.
If you're an arrested development fan, (new episodes made me sad) then you'll understand what I mean when I say the charlie brown music was playing and my head was hanging low.
I whispered a quick prayer asking for the Lord to give joy while I finish what I started.
And for a vision into the future because I keep forgetting why I'm doing this.
I keep forgetting that one day it'll be done and I'll be a nurse.

A few minutes later, I'm sitting in my anatomy&physiology II class getting the normal first day talk about expectations and responsibility. Professor O.is my favorite professor, ever.
I listen to her talk and I wonder if I'll ever be as knowledgeable about anything as she is.
Although I have stumped her on a few questions; she's a smart cookie.
Anyway, she started talking about how we don't become nurses on the day they hand us the certificate.  The certificate just makes it official after the work is complete. We're doing the work now, so we're nurses now and we need to start thinking and acting like it. Then she said, (and she might as well have mentioned my name because it felt so personal) "You guys are almost there, it's almost time to start the nursing program." I started believing it.
So I'm sitting there with water coming out of my eyes and joy filling my heart.

I cannot tell you what a relief it was for me. Because the problem, and the cause of the peanuts music playing in my head, was that I've been in school for over 2 years and I don't feel like anything. All this work and nothing.
Truth is, I never believed I would actually reach the first goal of getting my pre-reqs until today. And when I stared believing, I got a joy drop.

At work, we're teaching the kids about the fruits of the spirit. On Sunday, we talked about joy and how it comes from believing God's promises are true.

Believing comes first; joy comes second.  I get it now.

Cathedral

 

My sweetest moments with God happen when I'm just driving home and see a sunset like this one. 

Or if I walk into my foyer at the perfect time and it's set aglow by twilight. I feel like I could explode just from the beauty of it all. 

It's church for me. 

He is the sunset on the water.

He is the song at twilight's glow. 

He is the morning whispers; his breath casting shadows.

In the tiny drops of dew, in the mighty rushing waters, in the ripples of the tide, 

he is speaking. 

-me