Alice in Wonderland has been my home-girl.Learning to make myself bigger and smaller at the same time. Small with warped body aspirations. Small enough to disappear. Small in voice, in demands, in requests, in fear. Bigger in toughness. Bigger with a teflon coating. Big enough to deflect rejection and hurt. Bigger than need, than desire, than weakness. Grit is my precious. And if you try to keep us down, We're gonna come right back! "Cause we gotta be Hangin Tough NKOTB I lace up my Docs to be fight ready. Come at me, bro. Or I stay in my cubby hole, hiding from staring eyes that see right through me. A girl who was rejected and used and rejected and used covered it with humor and song. Words wouldn't come, but songs would. Maybe that's why songs are tethered to my emotions and thoughts. I could sing/scream a particular Nirvana song(not ready to be that open in this forum, yet.I'll let you figure out which) at the top of my lungs when I felt helpless to speak and reveal my foolishness and weak posture. I could sing in my car all the anger I could not deal with( and didn't think I was allowed to deal with). And how many times did I wish to be a male, because this female thing was too hard. I didn't want to be soft, but God needs me pliable. Sitting in front of a God-sent counselor and saying (okay, maybe crying), "I don't want to be weak!!!" "But you are." Mic drop moment But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 All That exhausting striving. And I consider my precious boys. I am soft for them. I am vulnerable for them. They cracked the ice castle I'd built. I thank God for them. It's hard to love others when you're guarded and looking out for number one. I've seen the Red Queen staring back at me in the mirror. It terrifies me that she 's in there and what I've been capable of. "Off with their heads!" So, let me unlace my fighting boots and walk barefoot back through the rabbit hole. Where I can be hurt, but where I can love with God's love. I don't have to disappear, but walk with the covering of Christ's righteousness. A little T. Swifty here- Mean C'mon, I had to add Hangin Tough from the New Kids on the Block! Hey, it's a teen idol kinda day, don't hate.
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Writing on a plane is impossible. I can feel you, seat mate, judging all the silly words and cliches I'm typing to clear my head. It's like inviting someone in to the fitting room. Not happening! So, day eight got checked on through to the land of Oz. Sorry, but you WERE spared one more post from me. You're thanking me now, aren't you.
Oh it's so hard all the things we cannot change I've been meaning to say what I couldn't say Please forgive me I've had a change of heart 3 small words could bring us back For all our lives 3 small words I've had a change of heart I am coming home the Violet Burning Change of Heart Here we are in the land of Oz. Just as Dorothy for her second shot at going home, God offers us second chances at relationships. He has this thing about do-overs, see. We don't get to erase all the hurt and failure, but we can take it and forge new paths through them. Forgiveness, grace, hope, and, yes, abject brokenness all conspire to lead down the yellow brick road of reconciliation. In extending His hand of grace out to us, Christ has made it possible for us down here to embrace each other in humility and love. But we can't just click our heels. Oh, if it were that easy and guaranteed. I'd click and click and click and wear those babies out. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:30-32 Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Roman 12:16-21 I know better how critical expressed, lived-out-loud forgiveness is, now that I have been the recipient of this sacrificial gift. And I can more readily give it, knowing how I want it, need it. That putting-your-arms around someone forgiveness. A tabula rasa(blank slate) kind of forgiveness. Absorbing-the-pain and laying-down-vengeance forgiveness. I know it's possible to see others with better vision, with more Christlike vision, clearing the way to new life with them. And relationships I once thought left for the afterlife, are blooming here and now. And I don't need a wizard. Yeah, it's mushy love song. Can I let you in on a little secret? Okay, not so little, because the hubs is a much bigger person than me. Stubbornly, I've just not been able to admit it openly. I would marvel at his capacity to live out forgiveness in situations I thought were unforgivable. Outwardly, I considered him a fool with some of these people. But inside? It humbled me, because it exposed my snotty, unforgiving, power-hungry heart. That hurt. And I wished to be more like that. Through twenty-one years, I have always known that his heart was more tender, more merciful, and more steady than my own. Perhaps,I could never understand his attraction to me and felt inferior. I don't know. Over-analyzing is a specialty of mine. But, just maybe some of that came out in pretending that I was better than. Look at me, babe.You made a really good choice. Watch me prove it. I'm a good wife, I'm a good mom, I'm a good Christian, I'm walking a moral line. All those other girls? I'm better, right? You need me, right? See how you need me? Because I'm better than you, right? Look how hard I work to keep it all going. Noticing this effort, here. Nah, I'm not keeping a scorecard. See me setting aside my desires for yours. Hey, I have enough Holy Spirit for us both. I'll be your moral compass, too. For a string of reasons, all entwined with pride, I have a bit of a problem needing anyone out loud.I didn't want to say that I need him, probably more than he needed me. That his love for others was tangible, making mine feel phony. That I always knew his tender heart made this ice queen shiver in fear. Now, he's knows I'm really not better. And I'm so humbled under his leadership and care and overwhelming, forgiving, merciful, heart-exploding, protective love. He's a beautiful father to our boys. Watching him pour effort into them is a thing to behold. They are blessed. And I can say that I am blessed, too. And my heart has melted. I see you, babe, following the Lord. I see you, loving your friends. I see you giving of yourself. I see you, living out God's word. I see you being light, exposing me. I see you being the better parent and spouse. And I love you. And your love makes me cry. And I'm glad you're a fool. My fool. Darn you. Here's a mixtape, of sorts, for you. 'Cause that's love. Journey Don't Stop Believin' (live) From Mockingbird's September playlist.....Air Supply Makin' Love Out of Nothing at All And the song we danced to Open Arms another Journey gem I can't see so good through my teary eyes. So, Clay, go to Wearing my Blog on Sleeve for a nice surprise. I did the work. I'm not a slacker. I just decided to shelve the whole thing, Dr. Marvin. Maybe someday there will be such demand for my "lost drafts" that I'll publish it for one.million.dollars.
Anyhow. Day 6 was becoming a narcissistic gag-fest. Nightmares, waking with a day-long headache, and a brain cloud, should all point to "no. don't publish." So I did my duty, met my challenge, and it's nauseating. Moving on. Praying for restful sleep and better vision tomorrow. I leave you with a few song choices. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers Wall No. 3 and I Won't Back Down Edie Brickell and New Bohemiens What I Am Traveling Wilburys End of the Line and Handle With Care Life happens. Especially around here. Day 5 started with writing a post that's been waiting in the queue for several months. It's difficult to write with a Toad singing in your ear and snuggling in close between checking on dinner in the oven and supervising homework. So, that deeply personal post is back in pre-production for now. And that brings me to.......... I want to sing in a band again. I want to write anywhere and anytime. I want to read all the books all day long. I want to go to design school and make Tim Gunn proud. I want. I want. I want. I still want some of the same things I did at 21. Adventures. Late night jam sessions. eating all the food, all the time. Marathon philosophical discussions. Something happened on the road to creative freedom. I birthed five sons. Let's throw back to June, as I gathered in a room with members of the Prayer Chain for a listening party. Side note: the Mercury album turns 20, y'all. What's that mean for me? Yikes. Anyway, it was fun to talk music and art and parenting, of all things. We all have gotten obviously older. While the other fanboys (we females were sorely outnumbered) were asking questions, I had the privilege to sit next to Nancy Hindalong for a bit. Her husband, Steve had been the producer on the album and all these stories are being bantered about about the making of this album. All the late nights and crashing on the Hindalong couch between studio times, etc. And Nancy quietly mentioned her kids. It struck me. All other minds were tuned into the excitement of the rock and the artistic process and, and, and. I think you get me. All other minds were also male. I could not stop thinking that Nancy was really the one I wanted to sit in a corner with and ask questions of. The unglam life of the wife and mom keeping the show running. Loving and nurturing and steering the family while the hubs is out making his art, pursuing his love. Because I get it. I haven't always been good about keeping that resentment at bay. Hidden, but not extinguished. When my better half was crazy-busy building his little empire, I played a lot at being thankful (and I was in many ways), while letting personal frustration simmer. A lot of life has happened in those years as well. And resentment grew, much of it with having set aside my own pursuits. I stopped viewing it as my choice, joyfully made. In allowing this attitude, it was also easy to scapegoat his ambition as the monster. I, being female and more humble, would not have had this same problem. Until I did. And now I really get it. I am almost afraid to pursue the things I desire to do now. Afraid that they will take over, because the years cleaning and homeworking and shuttling and nursing and caretaking and laughing and snuggling and reassuring and pouring into my boys show on their faces. In the closeness that we have. In our zaniness together. And it's humbling. I resented the best gift of a vocation I never knew I wanted. And I love them so. And I still want to sing. And I still want to dance. And I still want to write. And I still want to debate. And I still want to stay up too late. Maybe I'll just do it with my house full of funny, loving, loud, creative, wacky men. And I still want to interview Nancy Hindalong someday. Maybe when I get around to that book I'm writing in between dinner and football and loud car sing-alongs and.............. Click to listen and turn it up loud......Humb Grylliade Creole I crawled in with Midlife Crisis and Everything's Ruined pounding in my ears, crumpled in tears to 8 Good Reasons and Take Me To Church, and walked out the other side with Through My Door and Bicycle Rider leading my footsteps in rhythm. That's what ruin and redemption sound like.
//Press Pause// A word, please. Wanting to keep up with this challenge to write everyday had to take a backseat on this Sabbath. A beautiful crisp day with fellowship and words of grace with our church family. Breaking bread with family and friends and the sound of happy kids. Even football is tolerable with sisters around. A few precious moments of downtime before evening service and gathering at Wendy's. Doesn't sound exciting, but it's such a blessing. A simple meal of Baconator fries while we laugh and share. It fills my heart. Christ is there. And it is a beautiful Sabbath. A day of rest. Even if I cry uncle and put this post on ice. See you tomorrow. I'm thanking God for this Sunday. Like Artax sinking in the swamp of sorrows. Total listlessness, body and spirit. No energy to push through.
My eyes are moving, but I can not make anything else go. Maybe it's what the oranges suspended in my jello feel like, but that's an experiment for another day. Sometimes, I'm Han Solo frozen in carbonate. Frustration, anger, self-hatred, and hopelessness all balled up in the pit of my stomach. Depression is a reminder that we are body AND spirit linked. When I am physically unwell ( hello, postpartum hormonal shifts) it plunges my spirit to the bottom as well. Out of extended periods of stress, my body takes a huge hit and opens the door for more depressive episodes. And sin is a great destroyer of both. Sometimes, there is seemingly no rhyme or reason for it's unwelcome appearance. But I know how the enemy likes to speak into it. He grabs the thoughts I've already formed. Wow, look at this one. Yep, you are destined for destruction. Here are your chains. Put them back on and let's go. You have no good in you. Life is hopeless. Nice try, stupid, but God doesn't really want you in his kingdom. He's rolling his eyes at you right now. Can't you feel his contempt of you? It's all so pointless. Start living for yourself. You are a worthless, hopeless, unloving mess. You've really done it now....no turning back. This is all there is. Truth has to come creeping in. Whispering gently remembrances. (See: In Ruin/Rainy Day Woman) Christ is there in the words. His hands under me as I'm drifting. Not pulling me out, but wading through it with me. I can't see past the fog bank, but He does. Let go. He is the sun breaking though. God gave rock and roll to you. Sometimes all I can while riding the wave of depression, is press play. There's goodness in there. For your listening pleasure, click the song titles. Oh, somebody make me a disguise Cause I feel black From glaring eyes Starflyer 59 I Feel Black The road is hard, but Paved with gold My heartbreak on the floor Cush Hands of Fire Michael Roe Never Been Unloved/Bright Eyes ...and one for my dad, George Harrison Here Comes the Sun (live) Psalm 13 How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? Consider and answer me, O Lord my God; light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death, lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,” lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken. But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me. Burdened with a constant fear of adding hate upon hate from my Creator, I was crushed under a pile of rubble.
Working to cleanse myself before entering His presence, I just made more to mop up. The futility, the futility, the futility........... Hopelessly trying to make the impossible, possible, my strength gave out. I tried so stubbornly to pull this load. To prove something. To prove that I was strong. To prove that I could be good. To prove that I could save. To prove that I didn't need. I'm not strong. I'm not good. I can't save even myself. I need, I need, I need! Then Christ came in with my tears and told me to rest. Rest in the tumult. Rest in the uncertainty. Rest in your position. Rest in my covering. Rest in MY cleansing. It is finished. And Joshua fell on his face to the earth and worshiped and said to him, “What does my lord say to his servant?” And the commander of the Lord's army said to Joshua, “Take off your sandals from your feet, for the place where you are standing is holy.” And Joshua did so. Joshua 5:14-15 Peter said to him, “You shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.” John 13:8 (ESV) Day 2 Listening...........Click and play I thought I had something to prove But I can’t gain what I can’t lose I tried to buy it with a dream “You can’t buy me…” The Drug That I can Never Take from Cush If you've read any of my ramblings previously, you may notice a common thread or note, if you will. Songs ping from one side of my mind to the other. While I am wrestling with deep spiritual truths or personal trench warfare, music comes elbowing its way through my thoughts. They do a little jig with my heaviness and spark torches to light the road to clarity. Connections to life events are hardwired to many. Some just lead me to laugh and laugh and laugh as I realize how incredibly goofy my dance moves are. Others reveal my mad fresh flow that is so incredible, I have to leave it at home(or in the car). This #Write31Days challenge will take you on a musical journey with my silly little mind. Ready for this Magical Mystery Tour? Mic's hot. Worried about feedback. She's chokin', how, everybody's jokin' now...... okay, nerves, let's write. Here we go! Day 2 is here. Something to Prove. Day 3 is here. Here Comes the Sun Day 4 is here. Press Play, Sunday Day 5 is alive. day 5 takes a detour to mercury Day 6 is here. kind of. Some days are diamonds Day 7 is here. Mixtape Days 8 and 9 are here. Three Small Words Day 10 is here. Someday I'll be Big Enough So You Can't Hit Me. Day 11 is here. The Lust, the Flesh, the Eyes & the Pride of Life Day 12 is here. How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. Day 13 is here. Major Tom, Safe in Tears Day 14 now here. Under Pressure Day 15 now live. F is for 15 and forgiveness Day 16 is here. Rehab or No Shame in My Game, Day 16 Day 17 is here. A Very Simple Day 17 Post Day 18 is up. I Walk the Line on Day 18 Day 19 now here. Take Me To Church Day 19 Day 20 is here. Another Dimension, New Galaxy Day 21 is here. Rock Steady Day 22 here, loud and clear. Journey 2 Journey Day 23 is here. Trouble Me Day Twenty-Three Day 24 is here. Come Together, Plank and Speck Day 25 now here. Twenty-fifth Day is Like Sunday Day 26 is here. I Say Hello, Day 26 Day 27 is here. ...And I will sing a Lullaby-y Day 28 is here. turn,turn,turn Day 29 is here. if i had a boat Day 30 went to sleep snuggling sweet kiddos instead. Day 31 is finally here. So, Stand in Your Pot of Gold, Day 31 Click on the Write 31 Days button to check out some great challenge-takers. And be sure to click on the song titles or band names in the posts for the musical inspirations of the day. |
AuthorJust a girl with the music turned up way too loud. ArchivesCategories |