So long, too long

Been struggling with more than my faith the past few weeks.  Besides not being able to comfortably sit for...well, three weeks and counting, hanging out overnight in the hospital when I really would have preferred to be recovering at home and then...well, let's just say tasting a little of the crazy thanks to too much medication and a shot that contained more hormones than any human should really take in at one time...I'd say I'm seeing a light at the end of the tunnel.  It is better that I haven't written in a while because the other night I lay in bed thinking about what I would be blogging...and that night it would have been me typing in all caps "WHAT FAITH?!?!  Why is this happening?  Why are doctors stupid?  Why does this still hurt?  Why is everyone telling me what not to do when I just want to get back to being tired because I have two preschoolers and I love to cook and clean and live my LIFE!?!?" 
First day out of the house...hairdresser.  I know, I know, someone writing about faith should have said CHURCH....but don't you GET IT?  That is the point of this blog!  I struggle.  Got it?  So, hairdresser.  Bad call because it is nearly impossible for me to sit for a few minutes let alone 2 hours to have my hair cut and colored.  Anyway...I have run into 3 people who didn't recognize me.  I'm not platinum blond like Nicole has been making me for the past 12 months.  I needed a change...and I am trying to save money so I figured if I changed to a little darker I wouldn't have to go as often.  Why am I telling you?  I'm not sure. 
Let's be honest.  I am telling you because I don't feel like getting to the nitty gritty.  In the past three weeks I have totally hit rock bottom.  I have screamed at my husband for bringing me fried eggs in bed, cried because someone peed on the floor (not me, thank goodness, HA!), hung up on my mother in law, asked my mother if she could basically quit breathing because she was driving me crazy (God bless that woman...she is a saint), and been generally miserable to be around.  I have not been praying.  I have not been reflecting on anything but being miserable and unpleasant.  Cool, right?  So nice.  Pity party is over.  The bunches of flowers in my room that people so lovingly sent have wilted and been tossed and quite frankly today I am hoping the same thing with my attitude problem.  It needs to wilt and head on out with the trash.  Since I'm being completely honest, for the past three weeks I have generally hated everyone.  The people I usually love and would want to be trapped on an island with, with fruity drinks and fun music....make me want to punch them in the face or run them over with a car.  Don't I sound so pleasant?!?!  So Lord only knows how I have felt about the people that generally rub me the wrong way.  They have been lucky to be spared and it explains why I have holed up in my house like a hermit.  Basically between the anesthesia from the surgery, and the shot of goodies I got the week before surgery I have been pushed into the deep end and struggling to find the ladder.  So, after a few doctors visits the past two weeks, some tweaking of some supplements and vitamins (hooray for samE and H-something magical) I am slowly dog paddling to the ladder in the hopes of getting out to enjoy the break the lifeguards should have called about a week ago. 

And by the way, would someone please remind me to change my iTunes up?!  I know some people need to drink to write and apparently I have always listened to some ridiculously emotional music to write but I really...really....don't need more reasons to cry for "no reason" right now.

I have two sweet friends who have tried to throw me life jackets the last few days.  One offered to take me to Sonic early in the morning because she knows I smile just driving up to it and thinking about the ice they put in their drinks not to mention the deliciousness that IS Sonic...and the other one emailed me in Target just in time to save me from my homeless person performance on a bench outside by the parking lot.  Literally.  I was sitting there in sweat pants with a bag of 1/2 gallon organic milks I realized I couldn't carry to the car by myself, sobbing because it was my own fault for being there alone just because I was trying to regain an ounce of my independence.  Really?  I NEEDED to buy milk at Target alone to feel better?  I told you!  Psycho.

So, to the people out there that think I have a perfect life and am just a little quirky...I have so much to be grateful for and my bills are paid and I am not naked or barren (well, I wasn't before three weeks ago, sob, but I'm pretty sure I signed the consent for that), I am not homeless (disregard yesterday's performance in the parking lot at Target), both my parents are alive and they are flipping phenomenal, my brother is rad, my kids are tiny, beautiful, healthy, kind, bitty geniuses.....but my life is not perfect...same as your's is not perfect.  I don't have time to explain why not, but I'm pretty sure the 13 years of expensive therapy about covers it.  Jeepers.  13 years?  What do I need to talk about for 13 years?!?!  See?  Flawed.  But it's all good.  Because I have God.  Even when I push Him away, as far as I can, for weeks at a time. He is there.  He shines that flashlight of love under the covers where I am hiding in the same nightgown I wore for three days straight and helps me lift the matted bunch of hair out of my eyes so He can beckon me back into the world.  Thank God. Thank  you God.  And thank you sweet family and friends.  Just give me a little time.  xoxo

Big time Faith

Is there little faith?  If there is, I've had it the last few days.  I have been a'hollerin at God like crazy.  Mad about this and that...small potatoes to the big stuff.  By big stuff, I mean HUGE stuff like badly injured friends who are good people and shouldn't be in the way of terrorists...but I digress.  Is there little faith?  Sometimes my faith feels small.  Tiny, speck of sand, small.  I have had a lot of people write to me since I started this blog.  They say "your faith is so strong" or "you are so lucky to have a faith like your's"....um, maybe I am not writing this the way I think I am.  I STRUGGLE every.  single.  day.  with my faith.  I WANT to do what God wants and sometimes it's like a diet...I think, just this once it's ok if I have this ridiculous thought 1,000 times today and then turn to keep my face towards the truth...later.  Sometimes I am confused by the truth.  Is the truth what I feel in earnest or has it not a thing to do with how I feel but what I need to believe in order to keep keepin' on?  I think it's obvious that the TRUTH...is what He says it is.  It is a promise and salvation like no other.  I have made promises I haven't kept.  Everyone has.  I think.  Like I previously wrote, someone has always done something worse, so if you've never broken a promise, I'm your gal.  I did the something worse.  I have broken promises.  God.  Doesn't.  Break.  Promises.  Wow.

NIV

John 14:27

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

It's time for the big time faith.  For my heart, for my mind, for my wee girlies...I've been a tad plagued by some  heavy thoughts for the past week and it's time to curb the ridiculousness.  Now that the house is clean, the laundry is finished, the meals are prepared, the kids are ready, and...there's no backing out...and here is where I stopped writing last night, Monday...and am picking up, today, Tuesday, before heading off into the unknown...so now the oven is also clean.  HA!  Really though, it's time for the game face.  This is such small potatoes and I am going to have to get my head straight so I don't let my wimpy side take over.  Such. Small. Potatoes.  God gave me some perspective this weekend.  I am extremely sure that people in convoys don't get injured because I need to chill out, but it really gave me the chance to stop thinking about myself and focus on someone else.  Now we move on.  Comfy clothes, check, Netflix movies, check, two new books thanks to Katie and Mom, check, BTF, check!  Now if only that Big Time Faith came with breakfast, I'd be one happy girl.  Who needs breakfast when you've got Jesus?  (Though, I do love me some eggs benedict...)
Catch ya later.  xoxo

Still sorry?

Wearing a rubber band that I keep snapping myself with when I apologize.  It's not every 5 minutes but man...my wrist is not doing well and I think I have a long way to go with this.  On one hand, I have not apologized to the friend that asked me to stop....about the specific thing we were discussing...ha...ok, that is pathetic...but I am working on it.  Here's to hoping tomorrow my wrist hurts a tad less.  I am off to the post office to mail some love to two different parts of the country.  Prayers please for two very special people.  And I will continue to try and not mame myself with the rubber band.  Man.  Who knew it was such a problem?  Oh yeah, about 1,400 people...I know, I know...I'm working on it. 
Today's I saw a new clip of Beth Moore where she talked about self-inflicted wounds.  Man.  Oh.  Man.  That is what my week is screaming about.  The whole week.  Thank you Beth for covering my life in brief you Tube videos.  And thank you God for those major verbal "shout outs" that keep me going.  Diet Coke and Riesling or not...I'm so grateful to have God, Beth and a few other people on my side. 
What's up Devil....I might be a scatter brain with lots on my mind...but I'm still comin' for ya! 

Sorry no more

I quipped to my uncle last week that it is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.  This is an often used phrase in certain professions or parts of society and I always thought it was funny but today it means something different to me. 
Today a friend asked me to do them a favor.  I respect said friend (not saying I don't respect the other 1,327 people who have asked me this same favor) and intend to honor the request.  I was asked to stop using three words.  I am sorry.  So, you heard it here first, folks.  It's a plan.  A goal.  A desire of mine to quit apologizing.  It's about a decade long issue and my dear husband gave up on changing it in me a long time ago.  I apologized for something pretty major today and was forgiven.  What a gift.  I am pretty sure this faith project and AA have something in common...although I am still having wine after dinner.  At least until next Tuesday.  It's going to take that or a 2x4 over my head to get me through this coming week.  Pray much?  Seriously.  It is only as I type and the sarcasm comes up on the screen that I realize my flawed sense of control over everything.  Seriously.  Ding, Jennie....arriving. 

My current wallowing songs of choice are Faith Hill and Tim McGraw singing I Need You, Taylor Swift singing Tim McGraw, Sting and Sheryl Crow with Always on your side, and Bryan Adams bringing in the wallow train with Have you ever really loved a woman?.  Gross.  Right?  And I'm not sorry.  I like those songs and when I just need a good cry, heck yeah, they do it for me.  I really shouldn't need too much added wallowness since I got a shot in my toosh this morning and sitting here is driving me crazy.  My youngest asked if the nurse could "do that again!"  Trouble.  Anyway, wallow I do and sometimes it is unhealthy, but today I just need a few more hours of it and then I will move on.  Again, totally not sorry. 

Back to what I was really trying to share...
I think that if you need to ask for forgiveness, then by all means, do it!  We all make mistakes and the good Lord knows, I do as much as the next gal.  Thing is, I don't need to apologize for everything I say, do and think and if I do, then maybe I have some introspection to hop on.  Some soul searching.  Otherwise, I should be going to God for the big stuff...asking Him to forgive me.  Granted, I will need to do some of that today too...
What I am really saying (I know, you might be thinking "finaaaaallly") is we shouldn't apologize for living.  It is a huge symptom of insecurity to feel the constant need to be sorry for breathing...and seeing how God is healing that part of me, I'm pretty sure I can stop with that ridiculous habit.  Breathing is pretty important and I'm going to do it.  If anyone thinks I need to apologize for that...they can take a hike.  (and I mean that in the nicest way possible...but nope, still not sorry)
So, looks like a pretty clean slate this afternoon.  Everything major is dealt with, iTunes has moved on to a little Dave Matthews and I am getting the feeling back in my legs from all that kneeling I did earlier in prayer.  Not to sound cocky, but I am pretty AWESOME.  God made me that way.  Guess what?  He made you that way too.  Now accept it and move on with breathing.  Like I said, it's pretty important stuff. 

Nehemiah 8:10

New International Version (NIV)

¹⁰ Nehemiah said, “Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is holy to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the LORD is your strength.”

Christmas cards for Valentines Day

I don't know that this is a faith issue or some form of self indulgence, but seeing how the day has been split 50/50 on things I want to do and things I need to do, I am choosing to take the first stretch of nap time to write...and the second stretch to fulfill an obligation.  As for the writing, I cannot find a bible verse that really fits what I am trying to convey.  In fact, I figure I can't find the words to explain what I am trying to say but will likely find a way to purge through typing for several paragraphs. 
I saw a friend today who asked if {insert huge world event} had not taken place, our lives would all be different.  I looked at said friend and proceeded to explain that not only would people's lives be different because HWE (my new acronym for huge world event; take notes) had not occurred, but there are moments in every day that could ultimately change our lives.  And in huge ways.  Sitting there I could quickly recall a dozen moments or more that, had I made different decisions, would have changed my life and the outcome of so many situations very differently.  I am not sure if it is good or bad to look back at these things.  I told my friend that it was unproductive to look back, mostly because I might have done some things differently and that is occasionally painful to admit.  However, I am grateful for some of the major consequences of those decisions.  Sometimes great joy can come from great pain.  Am I confusing enough to follow?

And TADA, we have arrived at the faith portion of today's lesson.  It is ridiculous how I can start writing and not know where I am going and still teach myself something.  Darn it!  I only WISH I had better respected that journal writing assignment from Mrs. Preston in 12th grade at LHS.  ARE you kidding me, Jennifer Marie?!  For someone who loved/loves to write, I sure have a hard time writing when it's required.  Now, I kept my own journal in high school...but the thought of turning any of that nonsense in for a grade makes my tummy turn.  You know those things you write and then looking back a decade later you are embarrassed and horrified that you not only THOUGHT those things, but you recorded them for posterity?!?  Maybe you don't write, but you know what I mean.  I am not the only person out there who is embarrassed of my adolescence.  It's horrifying.  But, it got me to where I am today.  Annnnd...we are back where we started.  Is there anything you'd change?  I can think of some little things and so many big things - all falling under my dozen category.  One major item sticks out and at the time, it was feelings of loyalty, guilt and obligation that contributed to the decision I ultimately made, annnnd...here we go again.  Obligation.  I loathe that word.  There is nothing in faith that is an obligation.  It is just knowing and feeling and believing...and trusting.  It is so easy to confuse those things with human beings, but with God it is so easy.  I love God.  I trust God.  I have faith that He has a plan.  And it makes it easier to let go of those moments where I might have said or done something differently.  Yes, I believe in free will, but no, I don't think I am doing anything, EVER, that is shocking to God.  Just because He knows my life plan doesn't mean that He is controlling it.  There is a difference between knowing and doing.  He knows, because as I mentioned in a previous post, Psalm 139 tells us:

Psalm 139
16 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;

in your book were written, every one of them,

the days that were formed for me,

when as yet there were none of them.

I go back to this because it is huge.  I was recently reading another blog where the writer discussed God opening doors for us and we simply walk through them.  Everyone is different and everyone has a different way of responding in situations, but I feel that there are doors everywhere I go, day in and day out.  I was on an elevator this morning at the Courthouse and a man (I assumed a lawyer - totally an assumption based on our location, his attire and behavior) was riding down with two young children who were sadly dressed and appeared disheveled and in desperate need of a warm bath and big snuggles.  It is hurting my insides now to think that I wanted to just scoop them up and take them home with me.  1)  Eric would have died 2) How do you start THAT conversation with a stranger in an elevator and 3) The rational side of me said "There aren't enough car seats in the cart to get them home".  I saw another woman walking through the halls with tears in her eyes and I felt like hugging her because I immediately imagined 17 scenarios that could be causing her grief.  I mean, come on.  That is borrowed trouble.  It keeps me awake at night!  Oh to stop it....what I wouldn't give.

 

So, I had the lucky opportunity to see an old friend and felt comforted by said friend's humor, thoughts, and the simple familiarness of being with an old friend.  I was 15 again and while I still saw doors everywhere at 15, they were in different packages...stray kittens, the salvation army bell-ringers and the elderly people in our town nursing home.  The difference between 15 and 32 is the ability you have to help and the ability I have to tell myself that I should be helping...more now because I am an adult.  If only listening to a song from 1995 on iTunes on indefinite repeat was enough to make me stop my racing thoughts.  I'd be thinking about rainbows and unicorns right now.   

 

To tie it all together and try not to completely lose you in my buckshot form of thought...there are moments in life where, yes, we might look back, even seconds later, and say "I should have done that differently" or "I should have said this..." or "I wish I hadn't missed the chance to..."

What's my response to that?  Try not to miss opportunities that really count.  But if you feel you have, have faith knowing that it's God's plan...not yours...and we are all on a journey that has a guide...and if we follow Him and trust Him...we will all get to where we are going.  And He'll be there to greet us with open arms.  I'm trusting this and today choosing to have faith in this, because its what I need today...this week...this year...and this lifetime.  I can't do it on my own.  Thank God we don't have to.

I'd like to introduce you to my crazy...

So, I have to let go of control in about a week and it is almost pushing me over the edge.  When I was younger I was bossy, and still am, but I was always happy to have other people do things and didn't feel like I had to correct at every turn.  Since B was born it has literally consumed my every day.  No one knows how to take care of the kids the way they need (insert, the way I want it done...) and there are things that no one else knows how to do because I am the most unorganized person alive AND I won't let anyone else do anything.  If there was a reason for someone to take over paying the bills, investments, or taking care of any other sort of "paperwork" responsibility in this household, there is no telling what would happen.  What have I done to prepare for this situation?  Pray?  No, because that is what I am supposed to do and the quiet thought involved in prayer for this might be enough to do me in.  Instead, I am going around like a crazy person cooking and freezing, cooking and freezing, washing laundry, cleaning and mending....like I am going into hibernation and leaving my family to fend for themselves.  It is ridiculous.  I would tell someone else to STOP...alas, I can't make myself do just that. 
Shocking (note sarcasm), God has it covered...

Philippians 4:6-7

New International Version (NIV)

⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷ And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Part of the problem is, I don't even realize I am doing (insert neurotic behavior) until my husband is ready to pull his hair out and I am physically twisted into one giant knot of muscle and begin to think that I can survive solely on Diet Coke and Riesling.  I mean, COME ON....DUH...obvious, right?  Something is not quite right.  At a very minimum, prayer brings the quiet peace of time between myself and my Father and if nothing else slows my heart rate.  I mean absolutely zero disrespect by using terms such as "at a minimum" and "if nothing else"...I just mean that in the immediate moment at hand, those are some pretty immediate consequences to dropping down on my knees.  Beyond that, I know that prayer will have a huge impact on how the next few weeks go, but sometimes, in the wake of lasagna, chicken pot pie and my fifth load of laundry...some immediate relief is quite welcome. 

If someone else were having surgery, I imagine them having fears of going to the hospital, being put to sleep, having said surgery performed and maybe the pain of recovery.  MOI?  Nothing like that.  Don't get me wrong, I plan on asking for immediate relief for my stress as soon as I have an IV, however, my biggest stress is the idea that I am going to be recovering at home for a while, with the sound of small children running around and multiple adults doing all the wrong things in MY HOUSE.  Don't get me wrong; I am extremely grateful for the adults who will be helping us and yes, one might say that this house also belongs to my dear husband, but in reality, it does not.  In my brain this is MY house and I let him live here.  Disease much?  Devil much?  Brain not working much?  Exactly.  Hence...I need prayer. 

And, this is my crazy.  The crazy in my head, greatly fueling the need for a Faith project to begin with. 

Dear Jesus, please slow down the crazy.  I really don't have time for it and knowing what a gift each day is, this is such a terrible waste of time.  Lord, help me to show strength in this fight against the Devil's encroachment on my life.  You know my heart, Lord, and I am grateful for you every day.  Thank you for our many blessings and the love that surrounds our family.  Thank you for the people willing to help us and Lord please enable me to accept help humbly and graciously.  Amen

Head above water...

Busy days here in the Faith Project household.  Trying to keep my "head above water" as someone quipped to me yesterday.  Beth Moore just posted a message on FB that nearly brought me to tears.  Wow.  God talk to me much?!? 

"We live two miles wide and an inch deep. We are totally caught up in a thousand different things, and not doing any of them well. You and I become effective by becoming SELECTIVE!" - Beth Moore

So much to share, so little time to write...will be back with some little words about some big days.  Hope all are well on this journey.  I really believe we are getting a leg up on the bad guy.  xo