The Dash

Death. It’s the inevitable part of living.

I feel as though I've become much more keenly aware of the passing on of life in recent years. Not so much out of fear, or a heightened awareness of my own mortality, but more so because of the void that is left in those that remain behind. Of course I know that it's normal (and emotionally healthy) to experience empathy for others; to understand –and to an extent to share in- the pain and loss that they feel. But, it seems like these emotions linger with me much longer in recent months. My customary reaction is to pray for those that are grieving and to perhaps to send a card, an email, or give them a phone call. I struggle with that sometimes, though because it all seems so “routine”. I know there is only so much I can do, and it’s so much better to do SOMETHING rather than NOTHING, but usually these gestures leave me feeling empty and frustrated; as though the true depth of my compassion and concern aren’t fully and genuinely expressed. With all that aside, I still recognize that death is a certainty for us all and that for every beginning there is an end.

And then I learned of the death of Maya Angelou.  

My first thought was  “Well, she was 86 years old and sick. Clearly she has made her mark on this world and left an amazing legacy. She deserves the rest.” And I was fine with that idea- for about a day- until I really started to remember how deeply her life and her work had affected me. My first encounter with Maya Angelou was at age 12 years when I was in the 7^th grade. I'd read her first autobiography, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, and I was so moved by it that I wrote about her and the impact of her work for an essay contest that I was entering. Admittedly, I've never been much of a fan of poetry (most of the time I just don’t get it!), but the breadth of her work, and her wisdom, resonated with me in ways that I still cannot fully express.  

As I was thinking about her story and how she overcame so much to truly touch and influence the lives of generations, I heard and old interview of hers from the 1990’s on NPR. In the interview, she spoke about the years that she was mute as a child. And then she spoke about her constant struggle NOT to go back to a life a silence. She called it an addiction. She spoke of it as an inviting presence that beckoned to her whenever times became difficult and things got to be too much for her to bear. She said that whenever she got to the point that she was battling the urge to go back to a life a silence, she would start to sing. And her mother and son could tell by the tone of her singing that she was in trouble and they would come to her and stay with her until she was in a better place. 

I was completely blown away by this. How could this woman with such an amazing and unique voice, dripping with wisdom and strength NOT want to speak? How could it be that she had to fight to do that thing that was most clearly her gift?  

And then there was Denzel. I’m sure everyone, men and women alike, can go on for days about all the ways that Denzel Washington is great. From his truly amazing acting talents, to his good looks, he seems to be doing pretty alright. Yet just yesterday, while listening to NPR (yes, I really do love public radio!), they were talking with him about his current role on Broadway in A Raisin in the Sun. As they were about to play a clip from the play- he lost it. He told the interviewer that he could not listen to the clip because he can’t stand to hear the sound of his own voice. WHAT?!? He literally, went off air so he wouldn’t have to hear it, and Latonya Richardson Jackson, his costar in the play who was also being interviewed, had to let him know when the clip was over so he could return. He later went on to explain that all he can hear is how imperfect his words sound and he is unable to see the beauty that everyone else sees. 

So what’s my point? It’s no secret that I struggle with my own insecurities on my journey to honestly and sincerely use all that I've been given to pour into the lives of others. I wonder daily how to be effective with my gifts and to use the passion that I have for human connection, service, and nurturing: the desire to help others find the strength from within to overcome and to thrive. And sometimes I fear that I'll just disappear one day having accomplished nothing in the way of making life a little bit better for another human soul. The lessons and revelations shared from those that I admire have given me that much needed assertion that I am not alone and that I can overcome…myself.  

Having come to all this I have a renewed focus to write the story of my dash. To purposefully create what I want the story of my life to be, and use my fear as fuel to push me past stagnation and complacency, to a place of action and creation. What matters most in life is not that it begins, or that it ends, but that it is lived. The time between those two finite moments-the dash so eloquently described in the poem by Linda Ellis- is truly what matters the most. To overcome fear, self doubt, turmoil, heartache, heartbreak, and insecurity to use your innate gifts and talents to transform the world. I’m choosing not to think of it as “what do I want people to remember about me or say about me when I’m dead”, but instead what do I want my life to mean as I live it.

Audacity

Fear. Anxiety. Worry. Doubt. These emotions run rampant in the minds of all of us at some point in our lives. I'll be honest; they plague me on a fairly regular basis. The funny part is, I never actually realized it until about three years ago. I've often said in private conversations and counseling sessions alike that my life changed completely when my father died in 2008; that I had to relearn who I was. The new person that occupied my body was a stranger; someone who saw and felt things so very differently than I once had. It is only recently that I have come to know that that is not completely true. The truth is that I was blind to who I was prior to that life changing experience. The reality of me was hidden behind a veil of who I thought I was or wanted to be for the benefit of my father. His death ripped away all of the falsities that I had created in my mind.

 

I soon realized that I had been dealing with issues of severe anxiety and depression for YEARS, but it was masked with horrible crankiness and a bad attitude. For those who were close to me and knew me well, they were aware that I was a actually quite kind, and more than a little bit insecure, but to most others, I was just a royal bitch! I look back on that time in my life now and shake my head. I'm sure I missed out on lots of great friendships and experiences due to my very rotten attitude. Fortunatley, I can now understand the root of that façade. I was constantly afraid of failure; afraid that I would not live up to the HUGE expectations that everyone in my family-especially my father- had for me; afraid that I would be mediocre; afraid that no one would love me for just being me. My completely irrational fears led to anxiety and an incessant need for perfection. This led me to put on airs and pretend to be all those things that I felt I had to be to be seen, heard, and loved. And all of that manifested through my horrible attitude. In the years since, I've learned when I get anxious and scared, or sad and depressed- I become very irritable and cranky. And when I notice it, I immediately ask myself- what am I anxious about? And usually the more I think about it, I find that at the root of it all is fear.

The concept of fear has been thrown in my face quite a bit lately. From books that I’ve been reading, to patients that I’ve had to treat at work, and most importantly in my own everyday life. My life is in a huge state of transition at the moment, and normally in times like these, I rely heavily on my tremendous ability to plan, document, delegate, and work extra hard. Over the past 10 years, every financial crisis my family has endured was overcome by me getting an extra job! I have never been afraid to burn the candle at both ends, regardless of the consequences, if that meant it kept a roof over our heads, food in my kids mouths, and lights on in the house. As a Christian, however, this behavior has a tendency to limit your faith in God and increase your trust in yourself. Of course, my thought process through each of those times was that God provided additional work for me- especially since in my prayers that was exactly what I asked him for. I was never one to have blind faith- I had faith only in something tangible that I felt sure could provide me with reliable and predictable results. Now, however, that is not the case. I am in a life situation that has left me in a space where I have to trust completely, and fear not. That is quite a tall order for a “recovering” control freak!

But here’s the thing, all of the self-help books and gurus out there spout talk about vision boards, manifesting destiny, wish fulfillment, the power of intention, and the law of attraction. And at the end of the day, all of it is just plain faith without fear. It is faith and trust in God to provide for you and to give you the desires of your heart. You can label it as whatever you like, but it is truly trusting God and experiencing the joy and peace that comes along with knowing that you have what you need. 

All of this sounds awesome, but putting it into practice is a horse of a different colorJ. And that's where audacity comes in. Audacity is defined as "intrepid boldness or bold or arrogant disregard of normal restraints". Faith is completely audacious. To refuse to believe what you see or what those around you may say and instead to focus fully on the truth of what you know the outcome to be. And not only to focus on it, but to rejoice in it and to live as if it were so. To trust a God that you cannot see and to know that he loves you, hears you, and has granted your petition—that is an act that requires a tremendous amount of courage and strength.

This time in my life is forcing me to do just that. How can I truly be a Christian and not believe wholly in the God I serve? How can I be afraid and full of worry and doubt, when I have clearly been instructed to be anxious for nothing and to cast all my fears upon Him? To be audacious- to live without fear- to trust completely, these are the attributes that will carry you through the tough places in your life. Knowing that there is a lesson in the experience, but that it will not break you or define who you are and your destiny. Barack had the "Audacity of Hope" and it put him in the White House for eight years amid a sea of naysayers and fervent opposition. He has literally made history because of it. Just imagine what the "Audacity of Faith" can do...

Naked

The past year has been a “stretching " experience of the greatest kind for me. I have been on a journey for the past 3 years to relearn myself after the transformative experiences of becoming a wife and mother. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had a very clear picture in my mind of what being a wife and mother meant and what it was supposed to look like. And that image that I held was the exact opposite in many ways of who I was as a person. I could never figure out why I was so miserable being that I had exactly what I said I wanted; and from the outside looking in, everything was "perfect".  When I  turned 30, I decided that I was  going to "take back my thirties", which to me meant that I was going to rediscover me and what made me happy. Oddly enough, that meant the eventual demise of my marriage, moving out of my house, and becoming a single parent. My journey led me to this new place of self discovery and daily amazement. I could spend hours explaining all of the nuisances of my journey and my discoveries about myself and life in general, but that would be too long and frankly not that important at the moment. What is important, at least to me, is my discovery of vulnerability. Like most people, I am terrified of being vulnerable because vulnerability leaves plenty of room for you to be hurt. I have built a wall around myself (invisible but very real) that keeps my feelings in and the hurt  out. Why? Because I am REALLY tired of disappoinmetment and let down.

As a counselor, I have perfected the art of being a hypocrite; I will profess boldly the need for others to let go of fear and embrace an acceptance of who they are, yet I seem to struggle with that in my own life. My feelings scare me. The idea of strong emotion makes me want to run and hide. Literally. All because of the fear of hurt and rejection; or worse, reciprocation.

Case in point: due to all the changes that have happened in my life over the past year, I have been blessed with the amazing opportunity to witness the love of others for me and my children; namely my mother, my aunt and my cousin. Because of the absolutely amazing roles they have played and the blessings they have been, I decided to write them all a letter for Christmas. For me, writing has always been cathartic. I am a person who feels things deeply, but often struggle with finding the right mix of spoken words to convey those feelings. Writing has been my way of bearing my soul.

The purpose of the letters was to tell them all the things that were in my heart and just how deeply they had affected me with their love and kindness. Sounds simple enough, but it was remarkably difficult. I procrastinated until the absolute last moment that I could. When I finally sat down to write, I was filled with fear and anxiety.

Why? Because not only was I bearing my true feelings- becoming completely open, exposed, naked to them, I was also placing myself in the position to receive pure love, emotion, and gratitude back. And I didn’t feel worthy of it. I didn’t feel like I deserved direct and open love, appreciation, and connection.

Why? I honestly don’t really know.

I have spent the past several weeks reading various books on letting go of the past, accepting your imperfections, and loving yourself wholly. While reflecting on my feelings of worthiness (or better yet, unworthiness)  I’ve come to the conclusion that being naked is the only way to experience the fullness of life. That means allowing others to see me and love me exactly as I am, flaws and all; without taking it personally if they don’t agree with what they see. The fear of judgment and rejection are paralyzing; as is the fear of  making a mistake. Perfectionism is impossible, and striving for it is miserable.

I've come to realize and accept that my attempts at fitting into whatever ideal image I had in my mind was completely futile; though not without purpose. I see that time in my life as a huge lesson  in the importance of authenticity and self acceptance. I'm also very thankful to have come to this place while I'm still "young", so that I can be about the business of embracing myself and enjoying the person that I am.

Each morning, I have my children recite an affirmation on their  way to school which  says , "I am a unique, unrepeatable, miracle. I was created by God to do great things. I am smart. I am kind. I am beautiful, both inside and out. I am a loving person. I am a loved person. Today is a great day."  I wrote this for them at a time when my son was being very negative about himself and I wanted them both to realize just how amazing they are, just the way they are, as early in their lives as possible. I have decided to pay attention to those words each day, and to recite them to myself. And while doing so, to add to it that "my presence is enough and I am completely worthy of the love that I receive."

Brene Brown's book "The Gifts of Imperfection" speaks about how you must allow yourself to be open to experiencing all of life's emotions. Attempting to numb oneself against pain or disappointment inevitably blocks positive emotions such as joy or love. You can't pick and choose the emotions to block and the ones to let it. Reading this was like shining a bright spotlight on my face: I steel myself against truly experiencing my emotions because of the fear of being hurt. I've come to realize for me, it is that fear of showing myself fully and being vulnerable and imperfect that scares me the most. I've prepared myself for negative responses to the real me with lots of affirming self talk like, "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, I love and accept me" or "if they don't like it, I don't need them", all of which sounds great, but usually becomes a bit more difficult to play out in reality. I now know that what I haven't prepared myself for is total acceptance. What on earth does that feel like??

Truthfully, I don't know. I have never been completely REAL with anyone. I will say that the closest I probably ever came was in my marriage- and that completely backfired on me. Now that quite some time has passed, I can accept that it wasn't my authenticity that was the problem in that situation; it was what the truth triggered in my husband that became the issue. The problem was his, but he made it mine, and in turn, I internalized that to mean that I could not be authentic and completely honest because it was somehow bad. Being naked--even with my spouse--arguably the one person I should be able to bare all with--convinced me that behind those walls that I had created was exactly where I belonged.

Now that I see my truth, it is my goal to live in it every day. That means to open my heart and mind to the fullness of life and to allow myself to be seen, embraced, and loved wholly and without fear.

Invasion of the Screens- Part 1

You can't help but notice that everywhere you go these days, everybody is very busy looking at a screen. There are iPhones, smartphones, iPads, and tablets. Every business or establishment has a flat screen playing some sort of programming, and your car has screens telling where to go, how to get there, or what to listen to. As our society is become more technologically advanced, we have become more connected--we can talk to anyone, anywhere, at any time in 140 characters or less. More people know the idle thoughts that come across our minds than ever before, and we believe that this keeps us in touch with all of those that matter most to us in the world. The problem with this, however, is that our society is growing more dis-connected by the day. We have lost the ability to relate to each other on a human level; the ability to think and process independent of a device.

A few days ago, I had to go to the doctor because I had come down with the flu. While sitting in the waiting room reading a book (an actual book- not an electronic one) I looked up and noticed that of the 8 other people there, 7 of them where doing something on their telephone. There was also a plasma screen playing Access Health with Robin Meade in the background. There was another waiting room on the other side of the urgent care facility where people who were not sick waited, and the scene there was much the same. I found it curious that everyone there had someone with them, presumably for support so they would not have to be alone, yet they were not talking to these people, they were fiddling with their phones, or watching television.

I noticed a similar scene recently when I went to the campus of my Alma Mater. I needed to request a transcript, and as I walked across campus, I saw many young college students scurrying across campus looking at their phones, texting, Facebooking, tweeting, or listening to music. First of all, I found it amazing that they can walk and type at the same time, but I was also a bit puzzled by the fact that it has now become impossible to walk from one place to another and actually experience the journey; you know, the act of actually taking in the environment around you. Or, taking part in the good ole' Southern tradition of speaking or nodding at others as you pass them by.

This new phenomenon has crossed over into my work as a counselor as well. Now when I meet someone who has attempted to commit suicide, more than likely, they posted it on Facebook or Twitter, and then someone called the police. These social media outlets seem to be the place where the entire world resides. I have patients who are completely distraught over things that people have said about them on Facebook, or inappropriate photos that were posted on Instagram. I have been verbally assaulted by people who refuse to give up cell phones because it is their only connection to the world; yet they are depressed because they have no friends...

Truthfully, I do see the positive benefits of all of the technology that is at our fingertips. I can honestly say that I do believe that as a society, by and large we are safer now that just about everyone has a cell phone, and navigation systems have made getting to our destination much, much easier. But as a professional, and as a mother, I can't help but admit that I am scared about where the world is going.

Enter 1984.

When I was in the ninth grade, I was introduced to George Orwell. The first book that I read was the novella Animal Farm (which was absolutely terrifying!), a story that depicted a communist government through the use of animals on a farm. It started out innocent enough, but then took a most shocking turn. Even at 14, I realized just how much it depicted actual human nature and how much power can corrupt the soul. But then, we read the book 1984. I found the story to be a bit grim and dark, but for some reason it captivated me. I read it again the summer before my senior year while at Governor's School- East, a state sponsored summer program for promising young high school students. While reading the book this time, my class was instructed to act out the premise of the novel.  We called our society LANCE (LAurinburg, North Carolina, East), and because our dorms were separated by gender, we had to augment our society and have not only a Big Brother, but a Big Sister as well; and I was her (insert evil laugh here;)) !

This activity was LOTS of fun, and I totally got into being all powerful, but I don't think I really got the meaning of the book until about 4 years ago. I began to realize that the media-  whether news, entertainment etc,- controls what we think, how we think, and what we do. Propaganda abounds whether we like it or not. Most people don't like that thought  and will shout from the rooftops just how independent they are, and yet, they somehow seem to be just as caught up with whatever the current trend is as the next person. The flat screens that exist in every building you enter today are exactly like the flat screen that existed in every building in the novel 1984. Screens that were constantly running images of propaganda put out by Big Brother--much like CNN or Fox News.

Everywhere the main character Winston went, he never knew if there were cameras or listening devices hidden someplace--just like today, any device--smart phones, computers, and tablets--can be used as listening devices by our government (check out the movie Eagle Eye).

Am I a conspiracy theorist? Nope--I honestly don't care much about that. If anybody wants to spy on me doing homework with my kids, cleaning the house, or making dinner--be my guest! Not too much excitement going on in my house-lol. But what I am concerned about, is the idea of losing the ability to think independently, to create, and to know and recognize truth. I am deeply concerned that as our children grow up in a society where everything they learn comes from a screen, they are being conditioned to be reactive and to assimilate to whatever they hear, and not to think for themselves.

My son is currently in the third grade at what I consider to be a pretty good elementary school. When he started first grade, I noticed that a large portion of his classroom instruction was completed via a computer program. Moreover, he was expected to complete 20 minutes of math and 20 minutes of reading nightly on two separate internet-based computer games.  For the life of me, I couldn't understand why he couldn't do math worksheets or read an actual book, but putting kids in front of the computer seemed to be the "new way of teaching". At first I just thought his teacher was lazy, but then we started getting those recorded telephone calls from the principal reminding parents to let the kids get on those programs nightly. I honestly don't know if the program was effective or not;  I chose not to let my son participate. Instead, I just took him to the library and helped him pick out books he would enjoy, but that were also a challenge. And as far as math goes, I made up problems myself, or printed out age appropriate worksheets off the internet.

Why? The answer is simple. I have chosen to limit my children's screen time because I want to try to preserve their imagination. The words in the text should paint a picture for them to visualize in their own minds--that's the fun part of reading a book. I also want them to learn how to figure out problem solving, sans music and cartoons. Believe it or not, problem solving is one of those transferable skills that crosses over to other things--life is, after all, all about solving problems. I want them to figure out how to exercise and use their own minds, not rely on programming.

Alas, I am aware of the fact that my "stance" is clearly not going to stop the world. When I jog in the morning I see mothers with toddlers in strollers that are being happily entertained by iPads. I even saw a commercial for a bouncy seat for infants that has an attachment for a tablet! I was completely appalled and said out loud how I would never purchase such a thing if I had a baby. My son asked me why, clearly thinking that it looked pretty cool. I explained to him that a baby's mind is a sponge, and the purpose of their days is experience the environment around them. The sights and sounds of their world, and the people in it. They are picking up on language and music, watching how we interact with one another, learning how to function in the world. That time is too precious to spend watching a character bounce around a screen instead of attending to the world around them.

It's not a surprise to me that our youth are scoring behind teens in other countries all over the world. Our society values entertainment and frivolity over the actual cultivation of minds. And it makes me sad. It devastates me to know, that one day in the not too distant future, someone will be able to appear on one of those screens and tell our children that 2+2 really does equal 5, and they will believe it.

Loving the Good and the Bad

What does it mean to be a “good person”? I hear that a lot as I go about my day; people say “…but I’m a good person” or “…he really is a good person, though”. More often than not it seems, that statement comes as a validation, usually after something not so complimentary. You know those situations where someone has behaved badly, but they “really are a good person” in spite of what they have done. “Bob cheats on his wife, but he really is a good person”, or “Sally abuses pain pills and drinks too much, but she’s a good person”. It seems like it’s almost a knee jerk reaction to say that we, or someone else, is good. That in spite of whatever “bad” they may do, there is still some value to who they are and the bad stuff should just be overlooked.

I started to really think about all of this while deciding whether or not to buy a co-worker a card. His dog died, and he was pretty bummed out about it. Not being a pet owner, I don’t completely understand people’s attachments to pets, but I can empathize with the loss of a significant relationship and the void that it leaves. Dogs and cats aren’t people, but they have souls and personalities, and they are individual and unique, just as humans are. I found myself second guessing the gesture of picking up a card and a small gift card for coffee. I often over analyze every decision that I make, but in this case, I wanted to make sure that I was doing it for the “right” reason. Not exactly sure what the wrong reason could be, but I didn’t want him to think I was strange for deciding that his loss merited Starbucks and card with a goofy dog wearing a cape on the front.

As I was going over my decision in my head, I caught myself thinking, “I’m doing this because I’m a good person”, as if somehow this singular act made me noble and wonderful and free from flaws, mistakes, or malice. The more I thought about it, the more I considered the idea of “good” and “bad”, and even more so the idea of being redeemed. According to the Word of God, we are all bad and fall short. We are all full of sin. Sin is not good. However, because God is good, and he sent his Son to die for us and to atone for our sin.  And all our “badness” can be and is forgiven because of the love that was shown for us.

I have to be upfront and honest and say that I am NOT one of those glass half full people that believes we are all inherently good. It could be because I have seen so much evil perpetrated by one human being onto others over and over that I have now become a bit cynical. My best friend and cousin would definitely say so. But regardless of what anyone’s opinion is about that, it is impossible to be a Christian and not agree that we all sin, daily, and have to be forgiven, daily. We do bad, daily, and he cleanses us, daily. This fact leads me to believe that asserting my “goodness” is pointless, because it is already established that I am not. Instead, I find it better to strive to be a person who shows love, a person who shows compassionate, a person who is genuine, or a person with an open heart. It really isn’t necessary to qualify my behaviors as good, better, best, or bad, worse, worst. My goal however is to be obedient and show love to my neighbor, as Jesus commanded. Love can cover a multitude of sins—after all, His love did that for me.

The Devil Did What?

I have been contemplating the idea of free will, choice, and accountability for a while.  Some people may think that I'm a bit cynical, but I am a firm believer in an individual's right to choose.  Every moment of everyday, we are all faced with different decisions that we must make; from seemingly trivial things like what to wear, to much more major decisions that can alter the path of our lives.  I am a firm believer in the right of every person to make decisions that work best for them and what they want, as long as they understand that every choice has consequences and they are willing to deal with those consequences- be they positive or negative.  What I can't stand, however, is when people consciously make bad choices, but then refuse to be accountable for it.

The video clip above is of Flip Wilson who built a comedy career off a character named Geraldine and her signature line, "the Devil made me do it".  All too often, we are quick to shirk any personal responsibility for our choices and blame anyone and anything else but ourselves.  Case in point: The addict that says they can't stop using because they have a disease and it's impossible for them not to do it. Their "disease" makes them do it. I'm not sure why exactly, but there is something about owning up to making a misguided choice, the idea of saying "I was wrong" that completely freaks us out as human beings.  We would rather lie, cheat, and point fingers instead of making that simple admission. Why is that?

I am equally dismayed by the inability to accept the choices of others, especially if we love them.  For example, the family members of the aforementioned addict.  Though the addict knows the repercussions of their actions, they tell their family plainly that they don't want to stop using and many times use guilt to get their loved ones to help support the habit.  The family may try to move heaven and Earth to get them help but the addict always goes back because they don't want to stop using. But love won't let the family accept that.  I run across this particular scenario all the time at work, and even in my own life with some of my own family members.  I completely understand the logic behind why you keep beating your head against a brick wall in this situation: Love. But what about loving that person enough to respect their choices and let them reap the consequences of it?

These scenarios may seem extreme, and I know there are many who would love to argue the disease model of addiction with me right about now, but that is not the essential point. The point is that there are so many times in life where we refuse to accept the choices that others make for themselves. The thing is, you don't have to like it-not by a long shot- but you do have to respect it.  Why? Because we all have a right to make our own choices, and we all want others to respect us and the decisions that we make.

I completely realize that what I am proposing is not as easy as 1-2-3.  I also understand that there are all sorts of personal issues that get wrapped up in how we respond to others, particularly those we love. But I've also learned from experience, lots and lots of experience, that you can't change the actions of others.  You can't make someone care about themselves or value their place in the world.  You can't reason with someone who has no interest in your version of truth, only in what is true for them.  So all you can do is learn to accept their choices and let them own their consequences.  This of course means not enabling them, or cleaning up messes that may arise.  Again- easier said than done.

I struggle daily with this as I interact with my kids, friends, and folks at work. I have to remind myself, though, that accepting the choices of others for themselves, particularly in situations when they know better, is the only way to find true peace of mind for myself.  When you let go of trying to change what someone else does, thinks, or says, and begin to focus truly on what you have control over (which is only yourself and no one else) and you start setting some healthy boundaries, your inner stressors decrease tremendously.  And if you are a person of faith, this is a wonderful time for you to allow it to kick in.  God gave us all free will.  He has told us what he expects of us, what the consequences are for not doing it, and then stands back and let us choose how we wish to conduct ourselves.  None of it is compulsory. So if God isn't standing over us forcing his will and desire on us, why do we do it to each other?  

I had this discussion earlier with a friend who asked about grace and mercy (G&M as she likes to call it) and wanted to know how that fits in to all this.  If God extends it to us, shouldn't we extend it to each other? I told her that she was absolutely correct; we should.  But even God has his limits, and so should we.  Giving others a space of time to realize what they are doing and to make changes in a helpful and loving way is always a great idea.  But that's also where the boundaries come in.  When it comes to a point that you are putting more effort into "saving and protecting" others then they are for themselves, it's time for you to re-evaluate what you're doing and why.  If you're doing all the work, in effect what you have shown that person is that they never have to be accountable because someone will always come to their aid.

As a mom, I find this to be particularly true.  I love my children fiercely, but I also want them to grow up to be capable and independent.  Like any mother I am constantly telling them to stop doing this or that because it's going to hurt them.  However, after about three times of repeating "Don't do that", I start asking questions like, "Ok, I've told you not to do that, but you keep doing it anyway.  What's going to happen if you don't stop?".  When they tell me the answer, that lets me know that they are aware of the consequences, but have chosen to do what they want.  At that point, my response to them is simple, "Ok, when you get hurt (or whatever the case may be) don't expect me to come to you and try to make it better. Obviously you are ok with it, so I will respect your choice and let you live with the consequences."  

My six year old experienced this the other day when he fell and hurt his knee in the kitchen.  I told him several times NOT to slide around on the kitchen floor in socks because he was going to hurt himself, but he kept doing it.  Finally I told him that when he did get hurt, I wasn't going to say anything to him, I was just going to look at him and blink;).  So, when he fell and was holding his knee in obvious pain, he opened his mouth to call out my name, but then he stopped before he got it out completely.  I walked over and looked at him and said, 

"Hmm, how did that happen?" 

He replied, "I was sliding on the floor in my socks"

To which I replied, "Ok, and what did I tell you I would do when that happened?"

And he said, "Look at me and blink.  But Mommy, you're not blinking!"

The bottom line of it all is this: we can only control ourselves and we need to take responsibility for our own choices. Though we wish we could, we can never truly dictate the actions of others. If we truly believe in God, why not pray and let him handle the rest? And the same goes for the many choices that we make as individuals: make your decisions based on what you know is in line with the will of God, and the rest will work itself out.

Now What?

The funny thing about life is that you never know as much as you think, and your brightest ideas are never quite as bright as they are when you first think of them.  It amazes me that every time I think I know what I'm doing, life always throws me a curve ball.  

Back in May, I had a very clear plan for what I knew was one of the purposes for my life.  From the age of about 8 or 9, I have been trying to write a book.  I had several false starts, trying to figure out what story I wanted to tell.  When I was 12, I decided to write the story of my (and my father's) life.  It's truly a compelling story, and I had dreams of it being made into a TV movie of the week! I discussed this with my Dad often and he seemed to find the thought amusing.  I continued to attempt to write through my teen years, but it never really came together.  Ironically, I found that the biggest problem was that I hadn't lived long enough yet so I had no idea how the story would end ;). 

The older I got, the more I talked myself out of the idea of writing a book.  I still REALLY wanted to, but I started to tell myself all the reasons why I couldn't do it.  I  had myself convinced that I didn't have the time, the story was too emotional, or I was too impatient to see it through to completion. When my father died, I tried once again and got three pages into the first chapter. After that, I resolved that I was too emotionally raw at that moment to try and I abandoned the effort, confirming my previous negative self talk: I really couldn't do it.  

Eight months ago, during my period of self reflection, my hidden desire came to the forefront of my mind and heart, and I started the journey of writing my first novel.  My new and self-appointed job was to go into the office everyday and write.  And for a while that was really cool.  I learned a lot about myself and my ability to make up really good stories!  When things became unbearable and I decided to leave my workplace, I was excited because all I wanted to do was write and now I would be able to do it freely.  I was so passionate about it that it scared me sometimes.  Everything that I thought I wanted as far as career was concerned went completely out the window.  I truly wanted to spend my days working as a writer.  

My new plan was to write during the week while my kids were out of the house and work at the hospital on the weekends.  I was also going to spend more time reconnecting with my husband, because now I would have the time to do it.  Not only that, I had time for morning devotion: reading the Bible daily (something I am embarrassed to admit that I don't do regularly) and spending some serious time in prayer.  I was so excited about this new path and inspiration.

I think that may have worked for about a week.

My full-time weekend job fell through so I had to go back to working whenever I could get hours at the hospital.  Then school ended and the kids, who were supposed to go to camp all summer, now had to stay at home all day. We don't have cable so they watch Netflix a lot on our one computer, which is in the living room.  That means no writing for Mommy because Mommy is either working or parenting!

As if that juggle wasn't enough, my mother in law passed away and now we have to grieve and cope in the midst of everything else. So at this moment, I'm feeling a little lost on my journey towards purpose. I was supposed to spend this summer working on a cool service project with my kids and writing my novel, taking short breaks to blog about the amazing progress in my life and how wonderfully things fall into place once you really find passion.

Best laid plans, right?

It really hurts when I realize that it's been almost two months since I've touched my novel.  I used to think about it all the time.  Now, I don't because it overwhelms me trying to figure out how and when I can return to it.  Same thing when I think about our family service project.  

I spend a lot of time now trying to figure out how to do a better job of achieving my dreams.  I always tell myself that I am going to come across challenges and setbacks, but I convince myself that when the time comes, I will lean into my faith and make it through wonderfully.  But then the challenge comes, and it's not so easy.  I miss writing terribly.  I truly hate not spending time helping my children with their project to raise money for the kids in the City of Hope in Tanzania.  Somehow, I allowed myself to become more focused on making sure that we can build a savings and take a trip to Disney this summer, than doing those things that I say matter most to me.

I have to refocus my energy to get back on track. I have to refocus on God. I remember telling my husband once a few months ago that I wrote best when I was reading the Bible and praying consistently.  I didn't seem to be able to write fast enough in those times; but when I slacked off, the words didn't come and I would find myself empty with nothing to say. There is a great sadness building in my heart from the many losses that I have experienced over the past several weeks. It's as if it has all caught up with me at once.  Now is the time when I really need for my faith to kick in.  I need to really walk out the words that I say to so many others all the time and NOT be a hypocrite.  Now is the time that I really need God.