The thing with letting go is that it isn't something you do just one time. It is something that is done over and over again. Sometimes daily. When you've realized that you're still holding on or that you've grabbed hold again. Letting go is a forever and continual process it seems.
The weekend was about letting go. Todd and I labored in the garage and our second bedroom most of Saturday. Building piles of things that we simply didn't need or use and sent them off to Goodwill.
Sleeping bags. Old decorations. Stuffed animals. Hunter green towels. My "skinny" clothes. *sigh*
And yes, I let them go. Not because I don't think I'll ever get there, but because after sorting through them I realized my fashion choices have changed quite a bit in the last decade and there wasn't much I would still wear as my thirty-something self. I saved one top, a favorite pair of jeans and let the rest go. Doing that felt both sad and freeing at the same time.
Maybe letting go is supposed to feel that way. Sad and freeing.
We are tired of the clutter. We've been selling things and giving things away all year. I feel like my home is almost able to breathe. I say almost because we're not quite done yet. There are still papers to rifle through and files to make and something to be figured out with my craft situation. (Apparently, I have a craft situation now. Thank you Pinterest.)
But it feels good to be almost there. To have things in order, to feel like life is more simplified because we've stopped holding on to things that don't matter.
There's room to move around, room to breathe, room to hope. You need space for those things it seems.
We are still waiting to hear more about Todd's potential job. We received some news that wasn't bad, but it wasn't what we were hoping for either. After many tears and a big heart-to-heart and trying to look a little too far ahead into the future, I let it all go.
I shared my heart with my husband, I prayed and decided that what I needed most was to rest in truth. We're going to be okay. God will remember us - He has us. We have what we need right now and that's really all that matters. He knows what is best and all I need to do is just rest in Him and live. Things will happen when they do and I can't plan or will it or control it into becoming.
It felt a bit like losing and I felt like I had won too. Though I'm not sure why. Maybe letting go is supposed to feel that way too.
Letting go though, opening my hands and letting all that I was holding on to slip through my fingers, allows for Him to fill it with something else. Something more.
July 30, 2012
July 27, 2012
I've Been
I've been daydreaming about fall and decorating and cooler weather and wearing scarves.
I've been waiting and waiting and waiting for things. And I'm still waiting.
I've been writing less and reading more.
I've been cultivating new friendships and enjoying them immensly.
I've been looking forward to the summer Olympics. I love watching gymnastics!
I've been hoping summer would go by a bit more quickly because I'm officially over it.
I've been working on new things at work - like developing policies and helping to write a company handbook on rules and guidelines.
I've been missing my friend B.
I've been wishing that money grew on trees so I could fly to Michigan and visit her.
I've been thinking about prayer. I love what Ann Voskamp said about it the other day.
I've been having a hard time sleeping through the night.
I've been restless and antsy and spinning. I wish I could say I had this under control, but I don't.
I've been letting go of some things that have needed letting go of.
I've been grateful, very grateful, that Fridays are short work days.
July 24, 2012
Life Unplanned
I've always had some kind of plan for my life. Even in the lost moments, the ones where I was wandering and confused and didn't even know who I was yet, I was always planning. Setting little goals, trying to put things in motion to make something happen in my life. Searching for significance, purpose and meaning.
Here I am now. Thirty-one and far from anywhere I had ever planned to be.
I'm not an opera singer. I'm not a stay-at-home mom to four kids. I'm not some famous author. I don't have a college degree and I'm not out of debt or skinny. At one time or another I had planned for those things to happen and I suppose they still can if I really wanted them to. I'm still living and reaching for the things. Although, maybe just no to four.
At the end of the day, most of me feels content with where I am. I have this underlying peace from God, where I know I'm right where I belong. He has me in all of these specific places in life because He knows what is best for me.
Yet, I live with deep longings for more too. I know that He knows about those longings. He cares about all of the unrealized dreams and all that I'm scared to pursue. I often feel His invitation to start on the paths that I hesitate to go down. But sometimes I'm afraid He will leave or that I could get lost in it somehow.
The relationship I have with God is real. It feels unique to me. I find myself talking to Him throughout my every day. I may not always pick up my Bible or get into some deep theological study, but He is truly a part of how I live and do life. I'm far from religious. I don't follow rules. I don't like to put God or what I believe into some definable box either. Sometimes I feel different than a lot of people who share my faith because of my convictions and how I live looks differently for my life than theirs. And I've learned that this is okay, because at the end of the day what matters most is me and Him. What I have with God, with Jesus - it's very real and personal to me. It has changed me and I hope He is always moving in my heart making me more like Him than I was the day before.
Lately I have found myself curious about what He is writing in to my story. I feel like I'm heading into a new season and He is gently taking me there. Things are going to be changing for me and my family. I've been feeling this tug on my heart and these whispers of where He is inviting me to join Him. And though I feel somewhat scared and anxious about what it holds and means for me, it's hard to stay fearful. I feel more at rest the more I allow myself to lay down all that I had been planning and just let Him lead me to the place He has in store.
God has often asked me to do things that have felt risky. And after I took those steps of faith, I have always been able to look back and see where He sustained me. Where he took care of my heart and came through.
Sometimes, things in life tend to feel bigger than God. The road ahead of me feels much like that. It seems impossible and I have more questions than answers. I find myself asking Him, "Are you really big enough to do this? Are you really big enough to make what you're calling me to a reality. Do you really have this in store for me?"
And I hear his gentle and firm reply of, "I AM." And it calms my heart and suddenly having answers seems less important.
I know His voice. I know it when I hear it. I know that whisper and what I feel in my heart. Though what lies in front of me is full of uncertainty, maybe if I just keep listening for His voice and following it closely, I'll end up right where He wants me. Right where I've always belonged.
This relationship, this Jesus, this Voice that I listen to that leads and loves me - it's a truly wild adventure. A beautiful journey. One that I could have never, ever planned for.
Here I am now. Thirty-one and far from anywhere I had ever planned to be.
I'm not an opera singer. I'm not a stay-at-home mom to four kids. I'm not some famous author. I don't have a college degree and I'm not out of debt or skinny. At one time or another I had planned for those things to happen and I suppose they still can if I really wanted them to. I'm still living and reaching for the things. Although, maybe just no to four.
At the end of the day, most of me feels content with where I am. I have this underlying peace from God, where I know I'm right where I belong. He has me in all of these specific places in life because He knows what is best for me.
Yet, I live with deep longings for more too. I know that He knows about those longings. He cares about all of the unrealized dreams and all that I'm scared to pursue. I often feel His invitation to start on the paths that I hesitate to go down. But sometimes I'm afraid He will leave or that I could get lost in it somehow.
The relationship I have with God is real. It feels unique to me. I find myself talking to Him throughout my every day. I may not always pick up my Bible or get into some deep theological study, but He is truly a part of how I live and do life. I'm far from religious. I don't follow rules. I don't like to put God or what I believe into some definable box either. Sometimes I feel different than a lot of people who share my faith because of my convictions and how I live looks differently for my life than theirs. And I've learned that this is okay, because at the end of the day what matters most is me and Him. What I have with God, with Jesus - it's very real and personal to me. It has changed me and I hope He is always moving in my heart making me more like Him than I was the day before.
Lately I have found myself curious about what He is writing in to my story. I feel like I'm heading into a new season and He is gently taking me there. Things are going to be changing for me and my family. I've been feeling this tug on my heart and these whispers of where He is inviting me to join Him. And though I feel somewhat scared and anxious about what it holds and means for me, it's hard to stay fearful. I feel more at rest the more I allow myself to lay down all that I had been planning and just let Him lead me to the place He has in store.
God has often asked me to do things that have felt risky. And after I took those steps of faith, I have always been able to look back and see where He sustained me. Where he took care of my heart and came through.
Sometimes, things in life tend to feel bigger than God. The road ahead of me feels much like that. It seems impossible and I have more questions than answers. I find myself asking Him, "Are you really big enough to do this? Are you really big enough to make what you're calling me to a reality. Do you really have this in store for me?"
And I hear his gentle and firm reply of, "I AM." And it calms my heart and suddenly having answers seems less important.
I know His voice. I know it when I hear it. I know that whisper and what I feel in my heart. Though what lies in front of me is full of uncertainty, maybe if I just keep listening for His voice and following it closely, I'll end up right where He wants me. Right where I've always belonged.
This relationship, this Jesus, this Voice that I listen to that leads and loves me - it's a truly wild adventure. A beautiful journey. One that I could have never, ever planned for.
July 23, 2012
Monster Truckin'
Our little guy turned THREE on Saturday! For a special birthday outing, Todd and I took him to see Madagascar 3 on Friday night since he's such a "big boy" now. However, he was more interested in playing in the theater chairs and pushing all of the arm rests up and down than he was in the movie itself. Needless to say, it will be awhile before we try that again!
Saturday was his big party day - we had been counting down the days together. I decided to take it easy in the party department this year and kept it simple.
Since Tommy's most favorite thing right now are trucks - monster trucks, dump trucks, tow trucks, police trucks, hunting trucks, trailer-pulling trucks (I think you get the idea) - I used that as my inspiration for some simple decor.
Like filling dump trucks with chips. Though take note where you place a truck full of chips. Because it may roll off the table and dump chips everywhere.
Streamers and balloons - when you do them right, they don't look so "cheap." It took more time than I care to share, but I dressed up the windows in a fun pattern.
I found a cute monster-truck cake at the grocery store. I suppose I could have made it myself, but why, when the store will do it for you?
And I had another banner printed up at work too. He especially loved that the "O" in his name was a tire.
We just had our families over this year for his birthday and the day was very sweet. I think he felt celebrated and enjoyed - even if he did cry when we sang him Happy Birthday. (My family sings like a very loud choir and sings Happy Birthday in seven-part harmony - and I'm not kidding). Apparently, it's just too much.
I was a bad picture-taker that day and didn't manage to capture a picture of three of us - I promise Todd was totally there.
It seems a bit surreal. Why is that time flies so much faster when you
have children and life is marked by milestones and birthdays and
watching them grow and change and realizing that they already need new
shoes again?
Another birthday. Another year older. Another fun party behind us.
July 20, 2012
Carne guisada
Carne guisada is on the menu for dinner tonight. It's like a mexican stew with spicy meat, onions and tomatoes and it's typically served with tortillas, spanish rice and beans.
This particular meal is something I remember my mom making quite a bit when I was growing up. Anytime I have it bubbling over the stove, it smells like my childhood Sundays after church when my dad would be listening to music loudly in the living room and my brother and I would relentlessly bug each other until it was time to sit down as a family and eat.
To this day, I still pick out the onions and tomatoes, because ew. But the smell of it cooking reminds me of her. How her beauty often showed up in the kitchen over simmering pots and breads freshly baked and cookies cooling on sheets of wax paper. How she always made it a point for us to sit around the table together as a family - that was her heart even if those times didn't end up being meaningful. She wanted us to be together, to be one.
She's been on my heart lately.
Sometimes I wonder what she would think of who I've become. Who I married, what my life looks like. Who I am - a self-taught bookkeeper, a ministry leader, a working mom, an only-on-Sundays singer, a deep feeler, an avid party thrower.
The wounded parts of me wonder if she would be critical and ugly to me about my weight. If she would find something to be jealous of me for because it had always felt that way. If she would be disappointed that I never made it in to the opera scene. She had missed her chance and she didn't want me to miss mine. But, I did.
The parts of my heart that are the truest though - the parts God has touched with His grace and healing - those parts of me know. I know she would be proud. I know she would give me kind guidance. I know she would sit and talk with me about the past when I felt like I needed too. I know she would share her heart with me. And I know she would tell me that my Carne guidsada tasted better than hers, even if it wasn't true.
There are a handful of things that I have that used to be hers. I treasure them, maybe more than you should treasure belongings. But I do because they are all that I have left of a woman that I have gotten to know more in death than I knew in life. They're my only pieces left of a life that seems lived ages ago when she was present in it. When I had a mom.
Her cookbook is one of them. It's pages are full of her beautiful, flowing handwriting. It contains the recipes that still make me grimace, like Chicken and Wine. And others that bring back memories or remind me of the holidays like Applesauce Spice Cake and Snicker Doodles.
Taking it out, looking at her handwritten pages, and making one of her meals makes her feel just a little bit closer. Like she's right there. Tearfully smiling at how I carry on her memory and how much I understand now that I'm a grown woman and a wife and a mother.
Some days there's just this undeniable ache. And I don't even know what it is until I give myself some space and quiet to know where it's coming from. But it's her. It's being motherless and her not being here and how some days I just feel that absence deeply.
Tonight though, I will sit around the kitchen table with my little family and eat a meal that I once shared with her. Those are the moments that it feels like an honor and privilege, to not just live with the ache of missing her.
But to be living.
She would be happy and proud just to see me really living.
This particular meal is something I remember my mom making quite a bit when I was growing up. Anytime I have it bubbling over the stove, it smells like my childhood Sundays after church when my dad would be listening to music loudly in the living room and my brother and I would relentlessly bug each other until it was time to sit down as a family and eat.
To this day, I still pick out the onions and tomatoes, because ew. But the smell of it cooking reminds me of her. How her beauty often showed up in the kitchen over simmering pots and breads freshly baked and cookies cooling on sheets of wax paper. How she always made it a point for us to sit around the table together as a family - that was her heart even if those times didn't end up being meaningful. She wanted us to be together, to be one.
She's been on my heart lately.
Sometimes I wonder what she would think of who I've become. Who I married, what my life looks like. Who I am - a self-taught bookkeeper, a ministry leader, a working mom, an only-on-Sundays singer, a deep feeler, an avid party thrower.
The wounded parts of me wonder if she would be critical and ugly to me about my weight. If she would find something to be jealous of me for because it had always felt that way. If she would be disappointed that I never made it in to the opera scene. She had missed her chance and she didn't want me to miss mine. But, I did.
The parts of my heart that are the truest though - the parts God has touched with His grace and healing - those parts of me know. I know she would be proud. I know she would give me kind guidance. I know she would sit and talk with me about the past when I felt like I needed too. I know she would share her heart with me. And I know she would tell me that my Carne guidsada tasted better than hers, even if it wasn't true.
There are a handful of things that I have that used to be hers. I treasure them, maybe more than you should treasure belongings. But I do because they are all that I have left of a woman that I have gotten to know more in death than I knew in life. They're my only pieces left of a life that seems lived ages ago when she was present in it. When I had a mom.
Her cookbook is one of them. It's pages are full of her beautiful, flowing handwriting. It contains the recipes that still make me grimace, like Chicken and Wine. And others that bring back memories or remind me of the holidays like Applesauce Spice Cake and Snicker Doodles.
Taking it out, looking at her handwritten pages, and making one of her meals makes her feel just a little bit closer. Like she's right there. Tearfully smiling at how I carry on her memory and how much I understand now that I'm a grown woman and a wife and a mother.
Tonight though, I will sit around the kitchen table with my little family and eat a meal that I once shared with her. Those are the moments that it feels like an honor and privilege, to not just live with the ache of missing her.
But to be living.
She would be happy and proud just to see me really living.
July 19, 2012
Thursday List
When the day starts with surprise gifts and Starbucks from your boss, you know it's going to be a very good Thursday.
And I needed a pick-me up after yesterday's gloomy doldrums. I felt better after I ate some mexican food and talked to a friend about all that I was feeling anxious over at dinner last night. After I vocalize everything that I'm spinning over, I'm usually able to calm down.
Though I must admit - chips and salsa totally help too.
Yesterday was our last day of rain and summer storms for a while - supposedly. It's been so weird to have a rainy, cloudy July and honestly, I'm ready for our south Texas summer sun and blazing heat that I'm used to. Is it weird that I miss it?
Get back with me in a week though when we're in the 100-and-somethings again.
I told Todd last night that I only have a little over a month until it's time to decorate my house for fall. I decorate mid-September because I'm a little crazy and hope that decorating for the season will usher it in much more quickly. It has yet to work, but either way - decorating season is almost here and I'm a bit giddy about it.
I'm SO ready for the weekend.
Date night-in tomorrow, Tommy's birthday party on Saturday, having some friends over for dinner and shenanigans, church, a Sunday nap, and a birthday party to attend - to name a few things.
Fun summer times.
And I needed a pick-me up after yesterday's gloomy doldrums. I felt better after I ate some mexican food and talked to a friend about all that I was feeling anxious over at dinner last night. After I vocalize everything that I'm spinning over, I'm usually able to calm down.
Though I must admit - chips and salsa totally help too.
Yesterday was our last day of rain and summer storms for a while - supposedly. It's been so weird to have a rainy, cloudy July and honestly, I'm ready for our south Texas summer sun and blazing heat that I'm used to. Is it weird that I miss it?
Get back with me in a week though when we're in the 100-and-somethings again.
I told Todd last night that I only have a little over a month until it's time to decorate my house for fall. I decorate mid-September because I'm a little crazy and hope that decorating for the season will usher it in much more quickly. It has yet to work, but either way - decorating season is almost here and I'm a bit giddy about it.
I'm SO ready for the weekend.
Date night-in tomorrow, Tommy's birthday party on Saturday, having some friends over for dinner and shenanigans, church, a Sunday nap, and a birthday party to attend - to name a few things.
Fun summer times.
July 18, 2012
Limbo
I hate when life feels unsettled, when so much is up in the air. And part of you is just waiting for it all to come crashing down all at once, because so often, that's how it goes. My heart aches this urgent ache and I just want to know - just want to see a little ways down in to the future. To see what will happen. Maybe then I can rest in all that I'm waiting for.
Life feels very much in limbo right now. There are so many questions. We have zero answers and I've never done well with waiting. I want security and something to count on.
Right now, so much hinges on whether or not Todd will start a new job with his Uncle. It looks promising, but the timeline is fuzzy and that's what has me spinning. We've been told we won't hear anything until August now. All of this feels like it's taking forever and it's hard to not to go to the familiar and hopeless place of "Why would this work out? Nothing ever does!"
I am a worrier too. I obsess about things and worry and spin and stress until I sometimes make myself sick. It's a horrible pattern I wish I could be free of. Somewhere along the way, I decided that if I worry enough about something, then whatever it is I'm worrying about won't happen and everything will happen as it ought to. And really, sometimes things happen and sometimes they don't - and no amount of worry or over-thinking ever changes the outcome.
Needless to say, I feel emotionally and physically spent. Worrying exhausts me, yet I still do it. And it's a joy-robber, a life-killer. The things I choose to worry and fret over cost so much, yet I continue in its vicious cycle.
And always, these are the times God feels the farthest from me. Because I get lost in stress and anxiety, His voice is missed in the chaos.
Today is a day that I very much need to hear His voice in the midst of all of the things I'm worrying about and stressing over. I need a little peace where there is panic. A little rest where I am weary. A little hope where mine has run out.
Life feels very much in limbo right now. There are so many questions. We have zero answers and I've never done well with waiting. I want security and something to count on.
Right now, so much hinges on whether or not Todd will start a new job with his Uncle. It looks promising, but the timeline is fuzzy and that's what has me spinning. We've been told we won't hear anything until August now. All of this feels like it's taking forever and it's hard to not to go to the familiar and hopeless place of "Why would this work out? Nothing ever does!"
I am a worrier too. I obsess about things and worry and spin and stress until I sometimes make myself sick. It's a horrible pattern I wish I could be free of. Somewhere along the way, I decided that if I worry enough about something, then whatever it is I'm worrying about won't happen and everything will happen as it ought to. And really, sometimes things happen and sometimes they don't - and no amount of worry or over-thinking ever changes the outcome.
Needless to say, I feel emotionally and physically spent. Worrying exhausts me, yet I still do it. And it's a joy-robber, a life-killer. The things I choose to worry and fret over cost so much, yet I continue in its vicious cycle.
And always, these are the times God feels the farthest from me. Because I get lost in stress and anxiety, His voice is missed in the chaos.
Today is a day that I very much need to hear His voice in the midst of all of the things I'm worrying about and stressing over. I need a little peace where there is panic. A little rest where I am weary. A little hope where mine has run out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)