Posts
To a fault, I hold my tongue. I am passive aggressive on occasion, because it pains me to actually express my feelings. When asked to do something that I really don't want to do, but will do to please everyone else, I answer with a stern, "that is fine".. Brock really loves it when I say that. OR without even knowing it, I sigh deeply in disapproval. Often, when really upset, I shut down completely. I will show them, I just won't talk to them for a couple of days...
Do you know what the danger to all of this is? One day, every few years you have a vomit at the mouth day. Along the road you have held it in just one too many times. Your sighs are becoming more like breathing techniques, and you have isolated everyone. And one fatal day, it just happens.
You blow up.
Yep, that happened to me today.
Usually there are regular triggers that cause these. For some it could be financial issues. For others it could be work, or children. And in some rare cases it could be irritating little brothers that cannot for the life of them get their act together.
Can you guess what my trigger is?
There is also someone who usually takes the brunt of the blow up. In many cases it is the significant other. Yet, maybe it is a best friend. And in other more unlikely scenarios it could be the irritating little brother that, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, cannot get his life straight.
Yep, bad day to mess with Sis.
My more rational, intellectual brother says that I am the insane one because I keep expecting different results. When the same thing keeps happening over and over and over again yet I keep getting angrier and angrier and angrier, then really I am the fool. I agree. No doubt about it, I am the true definition of MORON.
I will spare the details of what happened today or what he does that sends me off my rocker. I love my baby brother very much and for that I will protect him. But years of my being passive aggressive and silent did not serve him well today.
The topper of my day was the text I received from his landlord today, of whom I have never met or shared a conversation /text with before. It read:" Your brother lives with me and my husband. You have the wrong impression of him and it is killing him."
My response was as follows..."I have known and loved my brother for 37 years. I don't have impressions, I have truths... unless an emergency, do not contact me again."
THE WHOLE TIME IT WAS JUST THAT I HAD THE WRONG IMPRESSION. MAN, THAT WAS SIMPLE...
As I reread, and realize that this whole entry is a case of vomiting at the mouth, cut me some slack. It only happens every few years...
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
What a Wonderful World..
I am celebrating 13 years with Brock today. On our first anniversary we went to eat at a fine french restaurant in Charlotte. We lavished each other with gifts and ate the last piece of our wedding cake that was thawed out from the night before.
Yesterday Fletcher reminded me that today was our anniversary, and asked what we were going to do. I answered simply by saying "What we love to do most, watching y'all play baseball." He had a fit, exclaiming "Mom! You watch all of our games. Go out with Dad, I want you to!" "Fletcher", I replied, "there is no place your father and I would rather be than cheering you on. You are a reminder to us of how amazing our 13 years have been together, and I would not miss it for the world."
It is true. No gifts are needed. Not even a card. All I wanted was Brock, settled in next to me at the ballpark, cheering the boys on. With my peanuts and coke. What a gift.
************
16 years ago I was sitting at the receptionist desk at the new office when two men came around the corner to get on the elevator. I had met Bill, one of the men, but not the other. The other man put his arm around Bill, looked at me with a mischievous grin and asked , " If stranded on a deserted island which one of us would you choose to be with?" As I turned bright red and was without an answer, the bell rang, the elevator opened and the two men got on. Within ten minutes they were back up again, this time with introductions... " Hi, I am Brock. Welcome!"
From that moment on, all I wanted was Brock, settled in next to me, making me laugh.
I am a shy, sometimes insecure, unorganized mess. He is outgoing, confident, humorous and methodical. I drive him nuts. But we are a perfect mesh. The common ground that brings us so close together is our passion. We are passionate about life.... Our relationship with God, the children and each other. It is that passion that makes sitting on the ball field, that could be interpreted as boring to others, an incredibly amazing night.
As in every marriage, there have been battles that we have had to fight, and thankfully conquer. But at the end of the day I still feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I am saying good night to my best friend, usually laughing at one of his antics. I sink into sleep thanking God for his amazing gifts to me, which includes that day in the office when I was left speechless.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
If we couldnt laugh we would all go insane...
It usually takes the beginning of summer to crank up his tunes, but once I do, I am engulfed in the story of my life. Folks, I am a Parrothead. I have been since first time I heard Jimmy Buffett, probably the second grade. My older brother , David, had all his vinyls and the words spilled loudly out of his room and put smiles on the faces of all the family. It was not long before all 6 us were whistling the tunes of Son of a Son of a Sailor throughout the house. His words oozed sunshine and sand, love and heartbreak, and the stories of peoples lives that made you want to meet them.
For those who don't know me, life in the Fletcher household was not often oozing with the happiness that sunshine and sand makes you feel. Oddly, Jimmy Buffett brought us closer. On long trips we would blare him in the car, making a game out of his ballads...Like... Who could list all the items he liked on his cheeseburger from "Cheeseburger in Paradise", or the "stuff" in "This Hotel Room".We also loved to see who could recite "God's own Drunk" verbatim.
He was the first concert I went to with David chaperoning me and my cousin Kara. I remember listening to the words of Margaritaville, and wondering what in the world they were and why you would need a shaker of salt. I went to his summer concert every summer after that , usually surrounded by my buddies. Sadly, time took a hold of me and I quickly found out what Margaritas were. My senior year, in grand style getting ready for the concert, I decided to have a couple of those great drinks.. While walking into the concert I was approached by a policeman , escorted off he premises and thrown in jail for public display of drunkenness. I was really too inebriated to remember the experience (except for the many songs we sang loudly in the cell) but I do know it was a humiliating one. I had some great companions that forfeited the concert and raised up enough money to bail me out, around 1am. The next day, I begged my brother Richard not to tell my father. He found great satisfaction in holding that over my head all summer long, and every night at dinner sang"Swing Low, Sweet Chariot", a song that symbolized wanting to be free from bondage and was often sung by inmates. Although Dad sometimes asked why he was singing that song, to Richards loyal credit, he never did tell him- I did finally tell him, years later.
Jimmy Buffett weaved his way into our family life regularly. Our beloved Labrador's were named after him. My Chocolate lab was named Buffett and my black lab was named "Spooner", the name of an old hound dog in one of his songs. Through the years, David continued to love him. His senior year he used a family favorite, "He Went to Paris" as his yearbook quote.
" He went to Paris, looking for answers to questions that bothered him so.
He was impressive, young and aggressive, saving the world on his own.
But the warm summer breezes and French wine and cheeses,
put his ambition at bay
And the summers and winters, scattered like splinters,
And four or five years slipped away..."
David graduated from UVa shortly after my mom's death and proceeded to head to France as the gentleman did in the song. He often sent me postcards in college with quotes from Jimmy Buffett on them, such as "If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane" . My favorites was, "The weather is here, I wish you were beautiful". That was all he wrote on the card, and I saved it to this day. It still makes me laugh.
When I met Brock he was not a fan. He associated his radio hits for what he sang and was not all too impressed with "Fins" and "Volcano". But a transformation was made and he has been known to play some of his songs over and over again. On summer nights we have danced under the Magnolia Trees to "Stars fell on Alabama"
"I never planned in my imagination, a situation, so heavenly.
A fairyland, that no one else can enter, and in the center,
just you and me, dear.
My heart beats like a hammer, my arms wrapped round you tight,
and stars fell on Alabama last night..."
When David died several years ago we found it only appropriate to have the song "He went to Paris" played at his service. And I ended my Eulogy with a quote from that song that seemed perfectly fitting.
"Some of it's magic, some of it's tragic
But he had a great life all the way"
With the boys I am afraid that the radio station of choice is 20 on 20 XM. We are often cruising down the street with the radio blaring to Lady Gaga, Kanye West or Eminem. But I have managed to intertwine a little Jimmy in there and find great satisfaction when I hear them arguing about which Jimmy Buffett song is their favorite. Oh, they would make my family proud!
I am a long way away from the girl arrested at the concert 23 years ago. And though I can laugh and enjoy songs such as "My head hurts, my feet stink and I don't love Jesus" his songs mean more to me than parties and hangovers. His songs tell my life story, full of mishaps and heartaches, tragedies and laughter. His words keep me connected to people who have long left this "big round ball". In the short time we were given, he brought my family together, and that is a gift that will forever be appreciated.
For those who don't know me, life in the Fletcher household was not often oozing with the happiness that sunshine and sand makes you feel. Oddly, Jimmy Buffett brought us closer. On long trips we would blare him in the car, making a game out of his ballads...Like... Who could list all the items he liked on his cheeseburger from "Cheeseburger in Paradise", or the "stuff" in "This Hotel Room".We also loved to see who could recite "God's own Drunk" verbatim.
He was the first concert I went to with David chaperoning me and my cousin Kara. I remember listening to the words of Margaritaville, and wondering what in the world they were and why you would need a shaker of salt. I went to his summer concert every summer after that , usually surrounded by my buddies. Sadly, time took a hold of me and I quickly found out what Margaritas were. My senior year, in grand style getting ready for the concert, I decided to have a couple of those great drinks.. While walking into the concert I was approached by a policeman , escorted off he premises and thrown in jail for public display of drunkenness. I was really too inebriated to remember the experience (except for the many songs we sang loudly in the cell) but I do know it was a humiliating one. I had some great companions that forfeited the concert and raised up enough money to bail me out, around 1am. The next day, I begged my brother Richard not to tell my father. He found great satisfaction in holding that over my head all summer long, and every night at dinner sang"Swing Low, Sweet Chariot", a song that symbolized wanting to be free from bondage and was often sung by inmates. Although Dad sometimes asked why he was singing that song, to Richards loyal credit, he never did tell him- I did finally tell him, years later.
Jimmy Buffett weaved his way into our family life regularly. Our beloved Labrador's were named after him. My Chocolate lab was named Buffett and my black lab was named "Spooner", the name of an old hound dog in one of his songs. Through the years, David continued to love him. His senior year he used a family favorite, "He Went to Paris" as his yearbook quote.
" He went to Paris, looking for answers to questions that bothered him so.
He was impressive, young and aggressive, saving the world on his own.
But the warm summer breezes and French wine and cheeses,
put his ambition at bay
And the summers and winters, scattered like splinters,
And four or five years slipped away..."
David graduated from UVa shortly after my mom's death and proceeded to head to France as the gentleman did in the song. He often sent me postcards in college with quotes from Jimmy Buffett on them, such as "If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane" . My favorites was, "The weather is here, I wish you were beautiful". That was all he wrote on the card, and I saved it to this day. It still makes me laugh.
When I met Brock he was not a fan. He associated his radio hits for what he sang and was not all too impressed with "Fins" and "Volcano". But a transformation was made and he has been known to play some of his songs over and over again. On summer nights we have danced under the Magnolia Trees to "Stars fell on Alabama"
"I never planned in my imagination, a situation, so heavenly.
A fairyland, that no one else can enter, and in the center,
just you and me, dear.
My heart beats like a hammer, my arms wrapped round you tight,
and stars fell on Alabama last night..."
When David died several years ago we found it only appropriate to have the song "He went to Paris" played at his service. And I ended my Eulogy with a quote from that song that seemed perfectly fitting.
"Some of it's magic, some of it's tragic
But he had a great life all the way"
With the boys I am afraid that the radio station of choice is 20 on 20 XM. We are often cruising down the street with the radio blaring to Lady Gaga, Kanye West or Eminem. But I have managed to intertwine a little Jimmy in there and find great satisfaction when I hear them arguing about which Jimmy Buffett song is their favorite. Oh, they would make my family proud!
I am a long way away from the girl arrested at the concert 23 years ago. And though I can laugh and enjoy songs such as "My head hurts, my feet stink and I don't love Jesus" his songs mean more to me than parties and hangovers. His songs tell my life story, full of mishaps and heartaches, tragedies and laughter. His words keep me connected to people who have long left this "big round ball". In the short time we were given, he brought my family together, and that is a gift that will forever be appreciated.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
a prayer for my boys... inspired by Tina Fey
Dear God,
I have always been told that I should approach you in prayer with everything. During the day I am in constant chatter with you to help soothe my heart, to guide me in difficult decisions,or to pray for those on the prayer list. I realized the other day that I seldom asked you for specific things. There are really very few things that I specifically want... Okay I take that back, if I am honest with myself, there are A LOT of wants. Mostly, they pertain to the boys. If you will, be patient with me, and don't roll your eyes at some of my requests. I am just a mom who wants the best for her children.
To begin with, I pray that they don't kill each other. I know that they would never do this intentionally, but I turn it over to you that one of them won't completely implode and in a weak moment just pummel the other until it is too late. If one should implode, I pray that the 3rd one has the wisdom to call interference instead of cheering the temporarily insane one on.
Please instill in them the basic cordials of lifting up the toilet seat then putting it back down. And to go even further than that,how about working on their aim as well? I personally can deal with the absolute disgust of sitting on a previously used Himan boy toilet... but my unexpected house guest? Really? I guess I should throw a prayer in for those guest that stop by and I have not cleaned the bathroom that day- I pray that they will find it in their heart to forgive me...
God, no tattoos please. I don't judge people with them, but I would really prefer that my children do not have them. Whenever asked why I feel the way I do, I simply say that when they are looking at their 80 year old wrinkled body and there are droopy tats, there will be regrets. I don't care if the tattoo they want reads "I LOVE MOM". None whatsoever.
You thought it would be wise to give me all boys, and I respect that. I have often thought that how great it will be to have a daughter in law and possibly a granddaughter. But can we wait for that? They don't need girlfriends anytime soon, until maybe 18? There is a town in Massachusetts that is offering condoms to children in ELEMENTARY school. I trust that the town is educated enough to have a reason for this and it is simple... There are elementary children who are sexually active. As much as that makes me want to vomit, it is a truth. I just am asking you God, to not have MY BOYS interested in girls until a later date. I know that Fletcher is already girl crazy, so can you work on him first?
I would NEVER ask you to do my job, but it would be nice if other than my nagging voice they hear when I am telling them to brush their teeth, clean their rooms, don't play xbox for too long, put their book bags and shoes where they belong, eat their vegetables, do their homework, STOP BICKERING, use their manners, make wise decisions, when I say NOW, I mean right then, not "in a minute", be respectful, anytime, all the time- it would be awesome if they could hear your soothing voice as well.
And God? I would never ask that you give my boys a struggle free life... Struggles bring on character and hope which leads to a life dedicated to you. I just pray that they find happiness and the wisdom to know that you are with them every step of the way.
Proverbs 13:10
Pride only breeds quarrels, but wisdom is found in those who take advice.
I have always been told that I should approach you in prayer with everything. During the day I am in constant chatter with you to help soothe my heart, to guide me in difficult decisions,or to pray for those on the prayer list. I realized the other day that I seldom asked you for specific things. There are really very few things that I specifically want... Okay I take that back, if I am honest with myself, there are A LOT of wants. Mostly, they pertain to the boys. If you will, be patient with me, and don't roll your eyes at some of my requests. I am just a mom who wants the best for her children.
To begin with, I pray that they don't kill each other. I know that they would never do this intentionally, but I turn it over to you that one of them won't completely implode and in a weak moment just pummel the other until it is too late. If one should implode, I pray that the 3rd one has the wisdom to call interference instead of cheering the temporarily insane one on.
Please instill in them the basic cordials of lifting up the toilet seat then putting it back down. And to go even further than that,how about working on their aim as well? I personally can deal with the absolute disgust of sitting on a previously used Himan boy toilet... but my unexpected house guest? Really? I guess I should throw a prayer in for those guest that stop by and I have not cleaned the bathroom that day- I pray that they will find it in their heart to forgive me...
God, no tattoos please. I don't judge people with them, but I would really prefer that my children do not have them. Whenever asked why I feel the way I do, I simply say that when they are looking at their 80 year old wrinkled body and there are droopy tats, there will be regrets. I don't care if the tattoo they want reads "I LOVE MOM". None whatsoever.
You thought it would be wise to give me all boys, and I respect that. I have often thought that how great it will be to have a daughter in law and possibly a granddaughter. But can we wait for that? They don't need girlfriends anytime soon, until maybe 18? There is a town in Massachusetts that is offering condoms to children in ELEMENTARY school. I trust that the town is educated enough to have a reason for this and it is simple... There are elementary children who are sexually active. As much as that makes me want to vomit, it is a truth. I just am asking you God, to not have MY BOYS interested in girls until a later date. I know that Fletcher is already girl crazy, so can you work on him first?
I would NEVER ask you to do my job, but it would be nice if other than my nagging voice they hear when I am telling them to brush their teeth, clean their rooms, don't play xbox for too long, put their book bags and shoes where they belong, eat their vegetables, do their homework, STOP BICKERING, use their manners, make wise decisions, when I say NOW, I mean right then, not "in a minute", be respectful, anytime, all the time- it would be awesome if they could hear your soothing voice as well.
And God? I would never ask that you give my boys a struggle free life... Struggles bring on character and hope which leads to a life dedicated to you. I just pray that they find happiness and the wisdom to know that you are with them every step of the way.
Proverbs 13:10
Pride only breeds quarrels, but wisdom is found in those who take advice.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
One Word Only
I am a sucker for these things...They seem sort of egotistical... I mean do you really care where my cell phone is or what my dream last night was? But I enjoy hearing ramdom thoughts of other people's, so I will share mine. These are one word descriptions, which I find very hard to do. And I failed miserably on a few.
The picture above is my favorite vacation place and my favorite place to eat where I drink my favorite drink...
1. Where is your cell phone? car
2. Your significant other? rock
3. Your hair? crazy
4. Your mother? sad
5. Your father? inspirational
6. Your favorite thing? home
7. Your dream last night? highschool
8. Your favorite drink? Grande one sweet n low latte
9. Your dream/goal? attained
10. What room you are in? bedroom
11. Your hobby? dogs
12. Your fear? separation
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? With 3 teenagers? SANE!!!
14. Where were you last night? happy
15. Wish list item? Spring
16. Where you grew up? Charlotte
17. Last thing you did? baseball
18. What are you wearing? jeans, always jeans
19. Your TV? on
20. Your pets? many
21. Friends? family
22. Your life? bumpy
23. Your mood? remarkable
24. Missing some one? painfully
25. Car? taxi
26 Something you're not wearing? hat
27 Your favorite vacation spot? Kiawah. Always has been, always will be.
28. Your favorite color? Green
29 When is the last time you laughed? this morning
30. Last time you cried? yesterday
31. Favorite day of the year? First day of Summer
32. One place that I go to over and over. grocery store
33. Favorite sport? all sports
34. My favorite place to eat? Kiawah porch
35. Spontaneous? I used to be much more so before old age hit.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sweet Sweet Travis
Travis, aka Juicy, Hicks. 7 years ago he quietly snuck in, snuggled in as close as he could to my heart and decided to stay for a while. At that time, Travis lived across the street from Brock's office. He comes from a torn apart family, his father unknown, his mother a drug addict with mental problems and brothers and sisters in and out of jail. But something about Travis exudes goodness and love. He has a quiet nature about him that turns playful and jovial when he knows you and trusts you.
Over the past years we became a safe spot for Travis. We wanted to be a place he could come if things were too tough at home, or quite frankly, if the only spot at home was a floor to sleep on. He could stay with us as long as he was making the right decisions, in school and in life. Life is hard for him. He is surrounded by family and friends that are making wrong choices and if caught in a vulnerable moment, could bring him down as well. Travis has a soul that wants to do the right things but a heart that connects him to his family. He loves everyone with everything he has and will give you all he has as well.
For a couple years Travis moved down to South Carolina to live with his aunt and finish high school. He thrived down there, and was the first in his family to graduate! The day after graduation he packed his things up, came back to Asheville and moved in with us. WHAT A BLESSING HE IS!!!!! Everywhere we go the Travis Hicks fan club gets bigger and bigger due to his sweet demeanor and playful ways. Fletcher, Hugh and Cooper absorb every minute they have with him and when he cannot be with us the house feels empty. Now don't get me wrong, having a teenager in the house has surely had its trials, and I feel that God paved the way of teenagedom through Travis. We have certainly had to have the "heart to hearts" and even have had a car wrecked by him over the months. But the power of the love I feel for him is simply overwhelming.
This past week he let me know that he was going to move to Atlanta and live with his uncle, who is a healthy and trustworthy man. It seems that the love he felt for his family here was taken advantage of, and no matter how hard he would work, they would find a way to manipulate him to pay for this and that until his paycheck was down to nothing. He felt he had to leave town and get away from the negativity and pull of his family in order to make something of himself.
At dinner last night, while the children were pounding him with questions after questions about his move, holding back my tears I told them that I would prefer to talk about something else. Well, kids being kids, they continued to ask Travis different questions and right there I burst into tears enough to silence the table (trust me, that is quite a feat). Though I am happy he is making a wise choice, my heart is hurting. My oldest son is leaving the roost. And I guess God is paving the way for that step as well. In one week my home will be less one child and my heart will ache more that it does just anticipating the day. But this family will always have a place for him.
Over the past years we became a safe spot for Travis. We wanted to be a place he could come if things were too tough at home, or quite frankly, if the only spot at home was a floor to sleep on. He could stay with us as long as he was making the right decisions, in school and in life. Life is hard for him. He is surrounded by family and friends that are making wrong choices and if caught in a vulnerable moment, could bring him down as well. Travis has a soul that wants to do the right things but a heart that connects him to his family. He loves everyone with everything he has and will give you all he has as well.
For a couple years Travis moved down to South Carolina to live with his aunt and finish high school. He thrived down there, and was the first in his family to graduate! The day after graduation he packed his things up, came back to Asheville and moved in with us. WHAT A BLESSING HE IS!!!!! Everywhere we go the Travis Hicks fan club gets bigger and bigger due to his sweet demeanor and playful ways. Fletcher, Hugh and Cooper absorb every minute they have with him and when he cannot be with us the house feels empty. Now don't get me wrong, having a teenager in the house has surely had its trials, and I feel that God paved the way of teenagedom through Travis. We have certainly had to have the "heart to hearts" and even have had a car wrecked by him over the months. But the power of the love I feel for him is simply overwhelming.
This past week he let me know that he was going to move to Atlanta and live with his uncle, who is a healthy and trustworthy man. It seems that the love he felt for his family here was taken advantage of, and no matter how hard he would work, they would find a way to manipulate him to pay for this and that until his paycheck was down to nothing. He felt he had to leave town and get away from the negativity and pull of his family in order to make something of himself.
At dinner last night, while the children were pounding him with questions after questions about his move, holding back my tears I told them that I would prefer to talk about something else. Well, kids being kids, they continued to ask Travis different questions and right there I burst into tears enough to silence the table (trust me, that is quite a feat). Though I am happy he is making a wise choice, my heart is hurting. My oldest son is leaving the roost. And I guess God is paving the way for that step as well. In one week my home will be less one child and my heart will ache more that it does just anticipating the day. But this family will always have a place for him.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Extraordinary in ordinary things
There was a time in my life, actually the majority of my life, that ordinary was a word that appalled me. Who in their right mind strives for ordinary? It is boring, unappealing and simple.
Yet being someone extraordinary meant I had made something of my life. My definition of extraordinary would differ from many people, but at its core was the same desire. I never strived to win the Noble Peace Prize, or taking an idea like Facebook and running with it... Yet I did strive to stand out. I wanted to be the best dressed. I wanted to be the prettiest. I wanted to be the best athlete. I wanted to be noticed. To be honest, I think that is why I took to drinking at such a young age. The drinking uninhibited me and helped push me to grab the most popular vote. I NEEDED to be special, significant.
Getting married and having children changed my priorities, but not my hunger to be extraordinary. I wanted my children to be the cutest and best dressed. They needed to be the gifted athletes. Not only was my worth tallied by how impressed you were with my house, it was always in need of new additions or decorations. We needed to keep up with the Smith's and know everything about them. My weekends were spent heading out to another big event eerily similar to the last one, leaving my children with the well known babysitter. And the following morning was spent gossiping about the Smiths', judging every outfit that was worn, every word that was said, and ALWAYS the question, "Can you believe so and so did that???"
Was I actually extraordinary? No. Hollow? Absolutely. I was sustaining myself solely on peoples’ impressions and opinions, never grasping how fleeting and unreliable those are.
It was not until a couple of years ago that I began to open my eyes to the emptiness of the life that we were leading. It was very painful to tear the thick skin away from our bodies. There is a scene in C.S. Lewis’s Voyage of the Dawn Treader symbolizes the shedding perfectly. Eunice is a boy who was transformed into a dragon, and had tried over and over to shed his scales in order to be a boy again. But in every attempt, the scales fell to the ground only to quickly grow back. Eventually Eunice turned to Aslan, the lion and King of the land, out of desperation.
“Then the Lion said… ‘You will have to let me undress you’
I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.
“The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I have ever felt. The only thing that made be able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off…It hurts like a billy, but it is such fun to see it coming away,
… Well he pulled the beastly stuff right off-just as I thought I had done it myself the other three times, only they hadn’t hurt. And there it was lying on the grass: only ever so much thicker, and darker and more knobbly- looking than the others had been. And there was I as smooth skin and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been.”
For both me and Brock, it was a long and painful process to “peel our skin back”. We still struggle daily to live in the Way, but it becomes more woven in with study and in the honesty of friends. Our esteem now comes from our relationship with the Lord not in things of this world.
When Jesus was born, he was delivered in a manger. Not the nicest suite in the hospital, but in a trough surrounded by animals and unpleasant smells. There was no room in the Inn for these unknowns. He was the son of a carpenter and a laborer himself. And when he travelled to spread The Word, he was ORDINARY. He was not attractive to the eyes, he was not dressed well and certainly he wore no crown on his head.
Isaiah 53:2-5
He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
3 He was despised and rejected by mankind,
a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.
In C.S. Lewis's book, The Screwtape Letters, the devil is training his nephew on how to lure people into his grasp. When the nephew expresses concern that his client converting to Christianity, the Devil smirks and lets him know that new Christians are the most vulnerable! They will go to church, look down the pews and realize how ordinary everyone is. They will then think ,"I did not sign up for ordinary!" And it is then that the devil should roll up his sleeves and begin his work.
A couple years have passed. I now find my joys and fulfillment in what has been in front of me for a long time. I find it in Brock, my husband and my best friend. In my Home, where the three boys, Brock and I share the core of our life; laughter, love and intimacy. No longer is it a place of pride. At the ball fields where I go to relax and find peace in the boys energy and solace in friends. No tackle or homerun can improve on their greatness in my heart. The ball fields are also where my friends are. Simple, ordinary friends, who love me and love my children. Don't get me wrong, all of these "simple" friends do extraordinary things- but the core is utter simplicity, without priorities out of whack. And lastly, Church is now a daily event scattered around town and in homes, but more importantly in my heart. On Wednesdays we share fellowshipwith an eclectic group of homeless and businessmen at Haywood Street Congregation. Formally, this would have been a place that we attended to check off the list of “doing good for the community”. But now, we can’t miss it. It is where we are all simply brothers and sisters in Christ with one shared desire... To soak up The Word.
I have 5 t-shirts at home that read “Live Simply”. In AA one of the main motto’s to staying sober is Keep It Simple. If you get too complicated you get lost. I have been lost for a long time. I am happy to be on track. Life is in the simple things, I long to thrive in the ordinary.
Yet being someone extraordinary meant I had made something of my life. My definition of extraordinary would differ from many people, but at its core was the same desire. I never strived to win the Noble Peace Prize, or taking an idea like Facebook and running with it... Yet I did strive to stand out. I wanted to be the best dressed. I wanted to be the prettiest. I wanted to be the best athlete. I wanted to be noticed. To be honest, I think that is why I took to drinking at such a young age. The drinking uninhibited me and helped push me to grab the most popular vote. I NEEDED to be special, significant.
Getting married and having children changed my priorities, but not my hunger to be extraordinary. I wanted my children to be the cutest and best dressed. They needed to be the gifted athletes. Not only was my worth tallied by how impressed you were with my house, it was always in need of new additions or decorations. We needed to keep up with the Smith's and know everything about them. My weekends were spent heading out to another big event eerily similar to the last one, leaving my children with the well known babysitter. And the following morning was spent gossiping about the Smiths', judging every outfit that was worn, every word that was said, and ALWAYS the question, "Can you believe so and so did that???"
Was I actually extraordinary? No. Hollow? Absolutely. I was sustaining myself solely on peoples’ impressions and opinions, never grasping how fleeting and unreliable those are.
It was not until a couple of years ago that I began to open my eyes to the emptiness of the life that we were leading. It was very painful to tear the thick skin away from our bodies. There is a scene in C.S. Lewis’s Voyage of the Dawn Treader symbolizes the shedding perfectly. Eunice is a boy who was transformed into a dragon, and had tried over and over to shed his scales in order to be a boy again. But in every attempt, the scales fell to the ground only to quickly grow back. Eventually Eunice turned to Aslan, the lion and King of the land, out of desperation.
“Then the Lion said… ‘You will have to let me undress you’
I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.
“The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I have ever felt. The only thing that made be able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off…It hurts like a billy, but it is such fun to see it coming away,
… Well he pulled the beastly stuff right off-just as I thought I had done it myself the other three times, only they hadn’t hurt. And there it was lying on the grass: only ever so much thicker, and darker and more knobbly- looking than the others had been. And there was I as smooth skin and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been.”
For both me and Brock, it was a long and painful process to “peel our skin back”. We still struggle daily to live in the Way, but it becomes more woven in with study and in the honesty of friends. Our esteem now comes from our relationship with the Lord not in things of this world.
When Jesus was born, he was delivered in a manger. Not the nicest suite in the hospital, but in a trough surrounded by animals and unpleasant smells. There was no room in the Inn for these unknowns. He was the son of a carpenter and a laborer himself. And when he travelled to spread The Word, he was ORDINARY. He was not attractive to the eyes, he was not dressed well and certainly he wore no crown on his head.
Isaiah 53:2-5
He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
3 He was despised and rejected by mankind,
a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.
In C.S. Lewis's book, The Screwtape Letters, the devil is training his nephew on how to lure people into his grasp. When the nephew expresses concern that his client converting to Christianity, the Devil smirks and lets him know that new Christians are the most vulnerable! They will go to church, look down the pews and realize how ordinary everyone is. They will then think ,"I did not sign up for ordinary!" And it is then that the devil should roll up his sleeves and begin his work.
A couple years have passed. I now find my joys and fulfillment in what has been in front of me for a long time. I find it in Brock, my husband and my best friend. In my Home, where the three boys, Brock and I share the core of our life; laughter, love and intimacy. No longer is it a place of pride. At the ball fields where I go to relax and find peace in the boys energy and solace in friends. No tackle or homerun can improve on their greatness in my heart. The ball fields are also where my friends are. Simple, ordinary friends, who love me and love my children. Don't get me wrong, all of these "simple" friends do extraordinary things- but the core is utter simplicity, without priorities out of whack. And lastly, Church is now a daily event scattered around town and in homes, but more importantly in my heart. On Wednesdays we share fellowshipwith an eclectic group of homeless and businessmen at Haywood Street Congregation. Formally, this would have been a place that we attended to check off the list of “doing good for the community”. But now, we can’t miss it. It is where we are all simply brothers and sisters in Christ with one shared desire... To soak up The Word.
I have 5 t-shirts at home that read “Live Simply”. In AA one of the main motto’s to staying sober is Keep It Simple. If you get too complicated you get lost. I have been lost for a long time. I am happy to be on track. Life is in the simple things, I long to thrive in the ordinary.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
A better me, for at least a month!
January 1st, 2011 (1-1-11)
The first thing that Brock said to me this morning was "The majority of New Years Resolutions are broken within the first week." Ouch. That is seriously a sad statistic. But I am living proof- and I stopped making them a while ago when I got frustrated with my inability to stay true to my goals. In fact, say, if I had a goal to lose weight and eat healthier, I would find myself binging on cookies and chocolate and anything salty within just a few days of my commitment.
But I am going to try and change that this year. For the first time in a decade I am going to write some down, and stay true to them...For at least a month! Hugh told me today that I should have one of them be not to get frustrated with him when he does something wrong. I replied back "To make that real easy for me don't do anything wrong". He was not crazy about the remark.
So, while Hugh is being punished in his room and contemplating how easily frustrated I got at him this afternoon, I have a moment to think about what resolutions are attainable...
1. Take a a photography class OR a creative writing class
2. Work out the dogs and get them involved in field trials again...
3. Volunteer once a week in the community...
But what I really want to attain is to be a better wife, mother, and sister... As 2010 is now history and I can reflect on the year, I have to say that I have never found more joy and love with the family. But there is always room for improvement. To be a better wife I can think daily about what would make Brock's world just a bit simpler that day.... I can complete that list, or WHOA, be proactive and get things done before he even thinks about it. When he comes home from work I could actually throw a little make up on and tame my hair instead of looking like I have just fought WW3. Although he has never complained about how I looked and tells me regularly that I have never been prettier(HA), there was a day long ago that when I saw him I would look my best and shine at the sight of him. And Hugh, maybe I could work on my frustration level. I could pray more before reacting asking God to guide me in my decisions with the boys. Though their actions may deserve punishment, I could do it with thought rather than impulse. And as a sister, well, quite simply I could just let Richard and Chris know how much I cherish them. We have had too much trauma and loss in our life to just assume that they know how I feel.
So, while Hugh is whispering, "just 5 more minutes, I know I can do this" from the room next to mine , I wish you a Happy New Year. We can all be a better parent, spouse, friend, sibling and child of God, even the best of us. May 2011 bring many blessings of love and laughter!!
The first thing that Brock said to me this morning was "The majority of New Years Resolutions are broken within the first week." Ouch. That is seriously a sad statistic. But I am living proof- and I stopped making them a while ago when I got frustrated with my inability to stay true to my goals. In fact, say, if I had a goal to lose weight and eat healthier, I would find myself binging on cookies and chocolate and anything salty within just a few days of my commitment.
But I am going to try and change that this year. For the first time in a decade I am going to write some down, and stay true to them...For at least a month! Hugh told me today that I should have one of them be not to get frustrated with him when he does something wrong. I replied back "To make that real easy for me don't do anything wrong". He was not crazy about the remark.
So, while Hugh is being punished in his room and contemplating how easily frustrated I got at him this afternoon, I have a moment to think about what resolutions are attainable...
1. Take a a photography class OR a creative writing class
2. Work out the dogs and get them involved in field trials again...
3. Volunteer once a week in the community...
But what I really want to attain is to be a better wife, mother, and sister... As 2010 is now history and I can reflect on the year, I have to say that I have never found more joy and love with the family. But there is always room for improvement. To be a better wife I can think daily about what would make Brock's world just a bit simpler that day.... I can complete that list, or WHOA, be proactive and get things done before he even thinks about it. When he comes home from work I could actually throw a little make up on and tame my hair instead of looking like I have just fought WW3. Although he has never complained about how I looked and tells me regularly that I have never been prettier(HA), there was a day long ago that when I saw him I would look my best and shine at the sight of him. And Hugh, maybe I could work on my frustration level. I could pray more before reacting asking God to guide me in my decisions with the boys. Though their actions may deserve punishment, I could do it with thought rather than impulse. And as a sister, well, quite simply I could just let Richard and Chris know how much I cherish them. We have had too much trauma and loss in our life to just assume that they know how I feel.
So, while Hugh is whispering, "just 5 more minutes, I know I can do this" from the room next to mine , I wish you a Happy New Year. We can all be a better parent, spouse, friend, sibling and child of God, even the best of us. May 2011 bring many blessings of love and laughter!!
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