Can I Consider All of This Joy?

Marsh Creek State Park

I’ve been avoiding God. For three weeks or so, I’ve just been phoning it in where our relationship is concerned - doing the bare minimum. Why? Excellent question. I’m not entirely sure. I’m sitting beside a lake today (in my car because the wind is fierce, and hello, my hair) trying to figure it out.

When I left the house today, I asked God where He wanted me to go, and a picture of this lake popped into my head. I’ve come here before to get some peace and sort through things. I just stare at the water, try to calm my mind, and ask God what He needs to say to me. I don’t hear any audible voices or anything, but the absence of my usual daily distractions does allow me to pray, recall Scripture, and feel a renewed peace.

Anyway, today, as I sat there and asked God why I had been avoiding Him and what it was we needed to work out, a Bible verse very clearly came to mind: “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds” (James 1:2). I immediately bristled and got prickly with God.

“No. I’m not ready to count it all joy.” - referring here to my many-years-long battle with brain injury and now struggles with walking and back pain.

But the verse was now on repeat in my head. Is this verse, this concept, why I’ve been avoiding Him? Did I know that this verse represented His new goal for me? That bar is too high. I can’t hit it. Shoot - I don’t even want to hit it.

Oh.

There’s the problem. I have no interest in calling this trial a "joy". I have no intention of obeying this Bible verse.

Talk about an eye-opener! Serious heart check moment.

Let me insert some clarification here. These posts have become a way for me to process my thoughts, pray, sort through Scripture, and figure out what God is saying to me. It’s my hope that by sharing the things God is teaching me - in very raw and honest words - someone else can be encouraged to seek answers and chase after what God is saying to her heart. As I journal my questions, doubts, and frustrations, my desire is that someone else will feel free to truly open her heart to God and trust Him to be gentle with all the broken parts. I firmly believe that Jesus wants us to come to Him just as we are - with questions, fears, doubts, frustrations, etc. So I’m putting all of mine out here and being open about the process of letting God work.

In the book of Mark (chapter 9), we read an account of a man who brings his son to Jesus for healing. The man says to Jesus, “If you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” Jesus says, “All things are possible for one who believes”. The man cries out, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

That’s how I feel! I want to obey; help my disobedience!

It is my heart’s desire to obey and honor God. I want to! But to call this journey with brain injury “joy” is killing me. My spirit is in absolute opposition to it. My heels are dug in! But we don’t get to pick and choose scripture. That’s not how this works.

At this point, I spent a long time looking into James 1. Maybe somewhere I could find a wise Bible scholar who could show me what the Bible meant or how to obey this particular verse. Maybe more knowledge was what I needed. I looked up commentaries. I looked into word definitions. I learned that historians think that the author was Jesus’ brother. None of it told me how to count it all joy. So I stared at the lake and kept praying.

“Lord, I want to obey you. Please show me how.”

An author and speaker came to mind: Joni Eareckson Tada. Her story is one of honoring God in spite of becoming a quadriplegic. She is now dealing with chronic pain on top of her paralysis. I decided to google her. I could go on and on about the things I found, (if you ever want to be inspired by someone who has figured out how to live a life of joy in the midst of trials, y'all should look her up!) but here is the big gem: instead of the “how” to count my circumstances as joy, what if I looked for a “why”? So I looked for reasons for joy and found some!

Because of my situation, people are watching - my kids, folks in real life, and people on social media. Because people are watching, they will see how I respond. Because God gives me strength, I am mostly able to respond with positivity and laughter instead of sadness and despair. That gap between my natural response to this mess and the positive way I am able to react because of His strength can point those who are watching to Him! I can be a feature film about God’s kindness, and others can see Him as I navigate through this trial. That idea DOES bring me joy. That puts a huge smile in my heart.

So let’s wrap this up:

• Brain damage - not a joy
• Trouble walking - no joy there
• Daily struggles just to accomplish basic tasks - nope. No joy
• The opportunity to rely on God’s strength, to ask Him to guide my heart and mind as I respond to these trials and show His light to the world through positivity and laughter - YES! A major reason for joy!

So, starting today, I’m going to count my opportunity to show off His strength as a joy. Well, I’m gonna try. I'm bound to mess it up. But God has proven Himself to be infinitely patient as I try again. And again :-)

And I'm ordering Joni Eareckson Tada’s book “A Place Of Healing” this very minute!

Pride - the Thing God Hates Most is the Thing I'm Best At - Ugh

Pride has always been a major issue for me. God gives each of us gifts and abilities, but somewhere along the way, I decided that mine were more gifty and more able-y than other people.

My actual college diploma - I really
wish it listed my major - Mathematics -
but we can't have everything

It's really funny because with my "what can we do fun today?" attitude that doesn't seem to take anything seriously, people are always surprised when they discover a brain in my head. I used to be offended by their shock - "You studied math in college? Are you sure?" "Yes. Yes, I'm sure. I was there. I even taught math for a living." "But don't you have to be smart for that?" (yes, this exact conversation took place once.)  I didn't respond to that question. I just gave that person a look that let them know it had gone one step too far and she had better back up - fast. The thing is, she wasn't trying to be mean or funny. She was dead serious. She was just shocked that I had the mental capacity to be a math teacher. And I get that a lot. I'm not offended anymore. Really. Now it's just funny. Like a game. But I'm digressing here.

Between my intellect and my gifts with people, I've always been pretty pleased with how God put me

I spoke to a group of
moms on my 40th birthday
I was obviously very shy about
the fact that it was my birthday
(please insert face palm here)

together and the things I'm able to do. And even at the lowest points in my life, I've had confidence in my skills and my mind. And at many, many times in my life, that confidence has shown itself as pride - pride in my gifts, pride in my intellect, pride in my people skills, pride in my confidence, even when I was struggling. And that pride had me looking down on and judging others.

I hate admitting all of this. It's super ugly to see in black and white here on my laptop screen. And it makes me cringe to read. Pride is so ugly! It's the thing God hates the most! And for good reason! I have no right to be proud of my abilities - He gave them to me. I have no right to be boasting about my intelligence - that came from Him too. Everything I have - every gift, skill, ability, anything - is from Him, and I have no basis for pride in it. And yet -

The journey of my brain injury has done a real work on my pride issue. After I fell on my face and got a concussion I had to be in a dark, quiet room for a week. As I lay there, completely unproductive, using none of my gifts, being of no tangible value to anyone, my pride was taking a huge hit! My family's life went on without me. God's work was going on without me. I wasn't as necessary as I thought I was. The pity party that started hard that week eventually gave way to realizations that my pride levels were way out of control. Over the next few weeks as I adjusted to life with new limits (no driving, no texting, no email, very little working around the house), my pride continued to feel the blows. If I wasn't going to use my gifts and abilities, what good was I?

God used this time to sweetly and lovingly remind me that my gifts and abilities are not why I matter. I matter because He loves me. He loves me for me. Just me. Not because of anything I do or think or produce. Just because I exist. And He loved me long before I knew how to love Him back. I didn't do anything to earn His love, and I couldn't do anything to lose His love. I also, couldn't earn extra love by using my gifts and abilities to please Him. He's such a good, kind, loving God to be confirming His love for me while my pride was being torn down. I was being deconstructed and rebuilt correctly at the same time.

This is how I spent those first
few weeks. In the dark.
Completely useless. I still
have days/weeks like this.  

Over the last three and a half years, I thought my pride was pretty much conquered. I've battled dizziness, forgetfulness, serious confusion, and the cabin fever of being a shut-in when it gets really bad. And I've put most of that battle on social media. I'm hoping it can be both entertaining and encouraging to the folks who find it, but really, documenting my issues does help keep me humble. Ironically, I do still get tempted to be proud of my willingness to be so humble. Yes, it's that bad! Anyway, I thought I was through the worst of the pride conquering. Then this latest batch of symptoms hit.

This is me waiting for Drew
to come get me. We had gone for a
walk, and I couldn't finish. So I
had to sit down right on the
sidewalk and wait for him to go get
the car. 

My newest adventure - I'm having trouble walking. Yup - my brain and my feet aren't communicating well. I tell my feet to walk, and they don't get the memo. The result is that I end up walking like a drunk or even falling over. Super fun out in public! So I have to be helped out of places. By the arm. Very slowly. Like an old lady. And people turn and stare. It's not bad enough that I'm an imposition to the people I'm with - holding them up with my incredibly slow pace or needing them to go get the car because I can't walk that far - but now strangers are turning to look and wonder what's wrong me. The looks are brutal to my pride. And I thought I had this pride thing licked.

I'm torn. On the one hand, I want God to keep chipping away at me until the pride is all gone. If pride is the thing He hates most, I certainly don't want anything to do with it. On the other hand, all of my "get rid of the pride" experiences have really sucked. And I'm so over miserable experiences. I'd like to be done now.

I've told God exactly how I feel. I know He loves me and is doing what's best for me. I'm trying to be patient even though it's hard. And I'm proud of that :-)

Praying For Folks Who Are On My Last Nerve

Lately, I keep feeling compelled to pray for people I'm having issues with.

Praying for people I'm doing great with is so easy! I like people, and I enjoy praying for God to intervene in their lives.

But when I'm not doing well with folks - when we've had a falling out or when I'm annoyed with people - well, to be honest here, I would rather complain and distance myself from those who are stressing me out. Granted, this plan doesn't accomplish anything good or helpful; i's just been my pattern. Just being real here.

But recently, when I'm about to launch into a tirade, I feel this little nudge in my spirit to shut off the complaints and start praying. I've learned enough about obedience to know that I should listen. So I start praying. Today God nudged me to pray for someone I’m mad at. So I asked God what I should pray for? “I guess fire and brimstone are off the table?” I didn’t hear any laughter.

There is nothing holy in these stingy but obedient prayers of mine.  There is a lot of "Lord, you know that girl is making me crazy, and I need to you fix her! She has lost her ever loving mind! Please do something about that! Amen." About 60 seconds into a prayer like that I start to feel convicted of my judgmental attitude - God is sneaky like that, convicting me in the middle of praying for someone else.

So my prayer shifts a little bit: "Lord, maybe she's acting like a crazy person because she's going through something hard. Please help her with the hard thing and then please cure her crazy. Amen." About then, when I'm feeling pretty proud of myself for being so "others-focused" I feel a spiritual tap on the shoulder that isn't a recognition of a job well done. I know He wants me from me. Ugh. Fine.

Now, with a heavy sigh and slumped shoulders in recognition of where God wanted me to end up, I sound more like this: "Lord, please be with my friend. If she has a need, please meet it. If she has a hurt, please heal it. And Lord, if you want to use me to bless her, please soften my heart and show me what you need me to do. And Lord, please forgive my pride and judgmental attitude. I'm a hot mess. I know it, and you know it. I just lose sight of it from time to time when I get caught up pointing out other people's issues. Please forgive me and keep working on me. Thanks, God. Amen."

I wish I could say that it only takes one cycle through this lesson for me to fully learn it. I'm guessing God would prefer it that way too. But I'm a tough nut to crack. God has had to walk me through this lesson multiple times in the last few weeks. I think the process might be going quicker, which is a sign that I am starting to get the hang of it, but I have certainly not "arrived". I'm so thankful that God doesn't give up on us!!

It's a good and loving God who is patient with our weaknesses and gentle with our correction. He accepts us where we are and loves us too much to let us stay there.

First Day of School Traditions

It’s the First Day of School. I’m not gonna lie. I’m really happy about it. Not the “getting rid of the kids” part - I like them, and I don’t see them enough as it is, now that they are so busy with sports and band and jobs and FortNite :-) But I’m looking forward to the routine. The waking up at the same time every day, going to same place, knowing what to expect every day part of school is what I’m most excited about. Summer is an ever-changing, never-the-same game that is too much for my fragile brain to keep up with. Even with a calendar on my phone and printed out and taped to the fridge, I’m still dazed and confused trying to keep it all straight. I need some consistency.

This pic is 6 years old.
They were so little!

But the start of another school year does have me getting all nostalgic. My boys are getting so old! Two in high school and the little one in middle school! The time has gone so fast! That saying that “the days are long, but the years are short” is so true. It feels like just yesterday that I thought I would never survive Aaron and Luke being toddlers at the same time. I remember telling Drew that it was going to be them or me. Someone wasn’t going to make it :-) They are 16 and 15. We all survived :-)

Do y’all have any First Day of School traditions? We have three - one I don’t mind, one I would take back if I could, and one that started out of the blue.

The one tradition I don’t mind - but the boys could do without is the obligatory first day pictures. You know the ones where you pose at the front door, usually with a sign that says what grade you are in, wearing the new backpack? My boys grumble and groan, but they know the drill. The only fun part for them is posing with me so they can see how much taller they are than the year before. The older two are much taller than I am. The little one is catching me. When they pose with Drew, they all wait until right before I snap the pic and then hop up on their tiptoes (Drew too!) to try to be the tallest in the photo. Men!

The tradition I would take back if I could is First Day of School fresh Dunkin Donuts for breakfast. This idea seemed awesome when they were in preschool. Preschool started at 9am. No one minded running to Dunkin at 8:00am to get donuts. But once they started getting on the middle school bus at 6:40 (AM!!!!!!), I really wanted out of this tradition. Of course, it was too late by then. Please learn from my mistakes! Choose your traditions carefully! Middle and high school start really, really, really early! Beware those "before school" traditions. Can I recommend you google some AFTER school ideas?

The tradition that started out of the blue happened the day that our youngest, Nathan, started full day kindergarten. I was so sure that I would be doing a happy dance when all three boys got on that bus together and drove off, leaving me to myself and my own devices for the first time in 10 years. Drew and I talked about it all summer. He was super supportive of me finally getting some time to myself. I had a million different ideas of how I would fill my time and couldn't wait to get started. Then the big day came. We did the pictures. We did the donuts. We walked to the bus stop and even took one of those “sad kids, happy mom” pictures. Then all three boys got on the bus together to go to elementary school. I watched that bus pull away and just stood there. I was frozen in a “now what?” place. In that moment, I watched as the reason I got out of bed every morning drove away. This is going to sound super dramatic, but be patient with me - I watched as my identity drove off on that bus.

All through college I was forming a plan to become a math teacher. That’s who I was going to be. Then I got married and got that job teaching math. So I was Drew’s Wife and A Math Teacher. Then the boys were born, and we decided I would stay home. After the sleep deprivation wore off, I looked up and realized that I wasn’t A Math Teacher any more. Instead, I had become A Stay At Home Mom. Ok. Let’s do this! So I did. Until they rode off in the school bus. Now what? Since I graduated from college, I had defined my identity by my job. I was what I did. Now I have no job - do I have no identity? It was a scary, sad, bizarre moment as that bus drove away.

The truth is that I had defined my identity in all the wrong ways. Who I am has nothing to do with what job I’m holding at the moment. Who I am has everything to do with who God says I am. I could go on about this for days, but I’ll sum it up and come back to it another day - God says I’m His child, blessed, chosen, adopted, favored, redeemed, forgiven, made on purpose and for a purpose - and none of these facts are based on any job. But I wasn’t holding on to who He says I am. I was holding to who I said I am. Talk about a shaky foundation! Again, lots to talk about another day. 

Anyway, as the bus drove off and I stood there completely lost and shaken, Drew realized that we had a problem and began First Day of School tradition #3 - Dawn and Drew breakfast date. He looked at me and said, “How about we go out for breakfast?” I was almost in tears at that point. I just nodded “yes”, and off we went. The day got easier from there. And the week got easier as I adjusted to my new normal. And I did a ton of soul searching that year to figure out who I was apart from my kids.

Today's FDOS
Breakfast Date
was Starbucks. 

This year, the little one will start 6th grade. Drew and I will go on our 7th First Day of School breakfast date. It’s not a necessity any more. Now it’s a wonderful chance to spend time together and pray for the boys.

If this is your first year to have all the kids go to school, I highly recommend having a plan for that first day. Call a friend, set up a coffee date, schedule a mani/pedi, something! If that first day of everyone in school is in your future, maybe my story will help you prepare for your day. If you are like me, experienced at this “all the kids are in school” thing, let’s reach out to another mom who just sent her baby off to kindergarten. Let’s ask her out for coffee or lunch. Let’s make sure those around us are ok. It can be one more First Day of School tradition.

What Did You Say About My Friend?

“Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”
― A.A. Milne

I want to tell you about a friend of mine. We’ll call her Morgan – because she will recognize herself in this post, but she may not want you to know who she is.

So Morgan told me yesterday that she is immature and needs to work on her image. I was floored! Morgan is not immature.  Want to know who she really is?

Morgan is thoughtful. She sees needs that others miss. Morgan is excellent at making people feel valued and welcome in any setting. Morgan sacrifices for her family – working long hours to bring in money to help them achieve their goals. Morgan takes action. When she sees the need that others missed, she doesn’t stop to discuss it or make sure she has permission. She just acts! And her actions are always for the benefit of everyone around her. She is selfless. She would give the shirt off her back or her last dollar to someone in need. She’s a joy! When Morgan walks into a room, the room lights up. You can’t help but smile when she’s around.

Yet, she thinks she needs to work on her image.

Ok. Another friend – let’s go with Brynn this time. Brynn heard a rumor that she had been labeled “pretentious” by another woman. That label has bothered her and caused her to examine how she interacts with others. Want to know who Brynn really is?

Brynn is generous. She gives of her time, home, money, energy, and heart in ways that cannot be measured. The lives she has touched with her generosity are too many to count. Her home is always open. Everything in her pantry is yours if you need it. Her time is your time. She will spend the night so you don’t have to be alone. She will watch your kids so you can go to that important appointment. She will talk on the phone with you until the wee hours of the morning, offering encouragement and support. And the counsel she gives is wise beyond her years. She listens with empathy and then offers gentle but brilliant advice on what to do next. My friend is loving and loyal. She will go to the wall for those who need her – all without expecting anything in return.

Yet, she’s worried she’s pretentious.

Do we really have to live with distorted views of ourselves?

How do we get here? How do we decide we are so flawed and miss all the value we bring to the table? I do it too. Somehow we let other people (usually those who are thoughtless and clueless) tell us who we are and miss the truth.

Do we really want to live like this? Believing negative lies about ourselves instead of realizing how much we have to offer and walking in our strengths?

I’m yelling “NO!” at my dining room table right now :-)

How do we fix it? How do we get a clearer picture of the value in us? I have four suggestions for us:

1. Let’s ask our best friends – ask them to tell us our strengths (write them down so we can go back to it later). Our friends know us well and can see what we bring to the table.
2. Ask God! He loves us and created us exactly the way we are on purpose! And He doesn’t make garbage. The Bible is full of passages about how much we are loved and how intentionally we have been created. God treasures us and has given us gifts and talents! We have value!
3. Now that you’ve asked the people who know you best, make a list of your strengths. Write it down. Frame it. Or laminate it. And refer to it often! I made my own list a while back here on my blog.  I need to dust it off and print it out for my own reference. I forget I have value just as much as the next girl. 
4. Encourage those women that you come in contact with. The world is such a mean and nasty place. We need to hear from each other that we are fabulous (I got those exact words in a text yesterday, and it carried me through my whole day) – and not in a fake or insincere way, but in an honest effort to help each other see our positives and rejoice in them.

I have to stop writing now and go tell a friend she is fabulous!

I'm Making Me Crazy!

Stubborn isn't a word I would use to describe myself; pigheaded is more appropriate. 

 -  Michael Bloomberg

This is not the post I thought I would publish this week. But that’s ok.

I’m grumpy today.

Last night, our evening went off in the ditch. Nothing happened like it was supposed to.

I’m supposed to be strong enough to handle the unexpected stuff of life. And sometimes I am, but last night I cracked. I texted my husband to come home from the meeting he was attending to help me deal with the crud life was handing me at the moment.

{I’m very blessed to be able to say that he came right away. He’s a good man!}

Together, we dealt with the stuff that was going on. This morning, I’m continuing to clean up the mess that life handed us. I had today all mapped out. And it’s not going at all according to plan. And that’s making me grumpy. I’m doing what needs to be done, but I’m really annoyed about it.

And how is my attitude is playing out? I’m ignoring God.

You heard me right. I’m frustrated with what He let happen last night, so I’m being petty and ignoring Him. My Bible and Bible study notebook are sitting on the dining room table. They are just waiting for me to sit down and have some time with the One who loves me and only wants the best for me. But I’m ignoring Him.

                        

It makes absolutely no sense. I know that time with God restores me. I know it brings peace and fellowship with the One who knows me best and loves me most. But I’m resisting.

Why?

Because being petty is self-centered. Being selfish and having a pity party gives me license to mope, feel sorry for myself, and pout. Time with the Lord is going to expose my selfishness and turn my eyes to Him. It’s going to open my eyes to my petty behavior. Then I’m going to have to decide to confess my behavior or not. And I’d rather enjoy my pity party a bit longer, I think.

As I type this, I know I’m making a stupid choice. I’m confessing to a public audience instead of sitting down in private with God. I’m actually shaking my head at my own foolishness.

So why am I telling you all this?

Because maybe my struggles with my attitude, reality vs. expectations, and taking it all out on God will help someone who reads this post. Maybe it will be an encouragement to know that you are not alone in wishing life would follow the script you wrote. Maybe it will help to know that you aren’t the only one who gets mad at God when life goes off in the ditch. And maybe being reminded that time with Him is the only cure for life’s curveballs will send you – and me – back to Him, where we belong.

Back to Blogging - After A Long Time

"God doesn't call the equipped; He equips the called." - Anonymous

It’s been almost a year since my last post. I started blogging with so much excitement. I had lots to share! I was going to make a difference in the lives of women everywhere. Then I crashed and burned.

What went wrong? It was a combination of things.

First, I got distracted. I got hooked on page views, re-tweets, and comments. Being a "big blog" became too important. I was losing my focus on content. I was losing myself and my priorities in a quest to grow my blog.

Second, I was getting a little too puffed up. I thought I had real wisdom to share that would improve the lives of women everywhere. I was totally missing all of my own issues that needed work.

Finally, events last November had me stepping away out of necessity to focus on my life and family. During this time, my own baggage and issues demanded to be dealt with. Facing my own weaknesses and figuring out what to do with them is not a fun ride. Doubts set in. “What in the world did I think I had to share?” “As messed up as I am, did I really have the nerve to think I could blog something useful for other women?” “Do I really have anything say?”

I honestly don’t know the answers to these questions even now. But the desire to blog – to share my heart with all its issues - won’t leave me alone.

So here I sit, working on a blog post – feeling inadequate and ill-equipped, but willing.

Flawed but still valuable?

The Bible is full of examples of God using messed up people to do great things. The story of Gideon is one of my personal favorites. Gideon was the least of his family, which was the least of his clan, which was the least of his tribe. He was afraid of the bad guys and was hiding from them in a winepress. And still God came to him! He was so unsure that God could use him that he demanded a sign – twice! But God did use Gideon in a mighty way. Gideon was weak, afraid, and full of doubt. But he became a leader that God used to defeat a huge army in a miraculous way.  Gideon’s story is in the Bible – the book of Judges, chapters 6-8.

If God can use Gideon, it's possible that He can use me. He doesn’t expect me to be perfect – He knows me well enough to know that’s not possible. He just wants me to be willing. And since I’m not perfect, anything positive that comes out of my writing can only be attributed to God. There can’t be any confusion about who deserves the credit

Thank you for your patience with me as I worked out some issues. Thank you for encouraging me, through messages and emails, to get back to blogging. Please pray that I will say what God wants me to say.

My Thoughts On Marriage

"In a time when nothing is more certain than change, the commitment of two people to one another has become difficult and rare.  Yet, by its scarcity, the beauty and value of this exchange have only been enhanced."
 - Robert Sexton

Marriage is hard.

Anyone married for more than a week knows that marriage is hard.

But lately, I feel like all I see on Pinterest, in blogs, and on Fakebook Facebook, are feel good posts about marriage.

• My man is amazing!
• 25 Date Night Ideas To Keep the Romance Alive
• 10 Ways to Show Your Husband You Love Him
• I'm married to my best friend!

Don't get me wrong. I love my husband - dearly. And what we have is very special to me. In fact, one of the reasons I've never written about marriage is because I consider ours so sacred. I would never want to say or do anything to violate our privacy or his trust.

But marriage isn't all roses and date nights. It isn't all breakfast in bed and good night kisses.

Marriage is work!

I sat down to write a post about what it's like to work with my husband at our Upward Basketball and Cheerleading league. If you missed it, this post about Upward will fill you in on just how much I love Upward and working with DH.

But I couldn't write about working with my man until I shared a basic issue I have with those who are writing about marriage.

Yes, it's good to have date nights. Yes, it's important to show your guy that you love him. Yes, it's good for our friends to know we love our husbands. But -

If we only talk about the rosy side of marriage and never admit the hard parts we do ourselves and those around us a huge disservice. <-Tweetable->

Let's be real. When you take two adults with their own thoughts, feelings, ambitions, baggage and traditions and form them into a team, even the most loving, well-intentioned pair is going to have a tough time of it. Making decisions can be hard when you come at it from different sides of the issue. Sharing control isn't easy when you are fully capable of doing it alone. Putting someone else first can be a real pain when all you want to do is curl up and take a nap.


I truly love my husband. And I love being married to him. We will celebrate our 15 year anniversary next month. I firmly believe that marriage is a good thing. When it's done right, it's a beautiful thing to watch a couple navigate life's journey together. But anyone who pretends that it's easy or painless or can be boiled down to 10 Easy Steps is selling something.

This Is What I Was Born To Do!

“Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.”
 - Confucius

I'm back! And I missed you. I can't believe how long it's been since I posted last! Life really can get in the way of blogging sometimes.

Today, I'm dying to tell you about the event we were a part of this weekend. I found myself doing exactly what I was born and designed to do. And that is an amazing feeling!

DH and I lead a basketball and cheerleading league through Upward Sports. We are entering our 7th year of Upward Basketball and Cheerleading, and I absolutely love it!! We run about 450 basketball players and cheerleaders. I'm completely involved alongside DH (the director of the whole program), and our boys are involved too. I can't imagine life without Upward in it.



This past weekend, we held our Upward Player Evaluations. That means that the players and cheerleaders come to the gym to try on uniforms and run drills (basketball players). We use the information from Evals to order uniforms and make even teams.

At Evals, it's my job to be the greeter and "traffic cop" of sorts. I'm the first face that our Upward families see when they come in the door. I stood in one spot for four hours and greeted over 300 players/cheerleaders and their families. Some were brand new to our program, and others have been playing/cheering with us for years. I answered questions about the program, sent them to the correct spot in the building for drills and uniforms, and basically tried to make them feel welcome.

I loved every minute of it!! I saw people I have come to care about, pitched a program I firmly believe in, handled administrative details, and loved on little children.

Here's why my role this weekend was such a great fit for me - 

• Greet people as they came in - God has given me a knack for names. I just remember them. So when the folks came in, I was able to greet many of them by name. I was able to ask about their families and their friends. I could tell them that their best friend just came through and was in the gym or that I had just seen their coach from last year, and he was going to coach again. Remembering details about their lives made our people feel at home and welcomed. I can't take any credit for it. God made me this way. But I absolutely loved being able to use that gift to make people feel cared about.  
• Answer questions about the Upward program - some of the folks who came in Saturday were brand new to Upward. They had heard about us and wanted to give it a shot, but most had questions or concerns that needed to be addressed. Because God has given me a bubbly personality (to put it lightly - I tend to gush about the things I love), I was able to handle any questions with complete confidence in the program. I could look into the eyes of a little five-year old and put them at ease about trying something new. I could tell a dad that his new cheerleader wouldn't be learning anything inappropriate. I could promise a nervous basketball parent that their child's coach would be kind and would teach their new ball player everything they need to know.
• Handle administrative details - because God has given me an eye for detail, I've been able to help DH as an unofficial assistant director of Upward. I'm able to help with the details of teams and coaches and dates and cost. And then when the questions come from the parents, I'm able to answer them. 

Where in the world am I going with this? 

No, this is not a commercial for Upward Sports. They haven't asked me to promote them, and there is nothing in it for me. I do believe that Upward Sports is an amazing program. I would highly recommend that if you aren't involved in Upward (as a volunteer or as a parent of a player/cheerleader), you look for a league in your area. If you've never heard of Upward Sports before, look them up. It's a wonderful program! Click on the image to learn more about Upward Sports.

Here on my blog, I've done a lot of self-analysis over the last few months. I've looked at my strengths and my weaknesses. I'm learning that when I know how I was designed, and when I put my gifts and abilities to use helping others, I'm at my most fulfilled in life. I'm working alongside my family, using my talents, and serving my community. And it's wonderful!

What about you? Have you found a way to put your strengths and abilities to work in a way that brings you joy? I'd love to hear about it. If you haven't found your "thing" yet, don't quit looking! Try something new. If that doesn't work, try something else. Keep trying until you find that "thing" that sparks you - that thing that lets you be the person you were made to be. 

Cash Is Saving My Sanity

“Live like no one else so later you can live like no one else.”
 - Dave Ramsey
 
Yesterday, I took the boys shopping for their Halloween costumes. We really had a good time. They had been saving their allowance knowing it was up to them to buy their costumes. They all had enough money for the costumes they wanted, and we came home victorious. They are going to be a Ninja, General Grievous (Star Wars), and Batman. It was a successful day.

I loved not having to pay for their costumes myself. When they are spending their hard-earned money, they spend it more carefully. They tend to make better choices at the store.

That works for DH and me too. We budget our money into envelopes each month just like our kids do.

On the first day of each month, I go to the bank and get the cash for all the expenses of the month. Utilities and gas for the cars are handled separately, but all other expenses (food, clothes, haircuts, etc) are handled with cash that is budgeted before the month starts.

I know I'm not the first person to talk about using cash. I know I'm not the first person to talk about using envelopes. But maybe our story will put a new spin on it for you.

I'm a spender. I love to shop. I like to buy things for me and things for others. Since DH has a nice job, it's not a big deal if I buy a few things here or there. But I realized that I was walking into Target for two things and walking out having spent over $100! What did I just do?

So DH and I had a long talk. I told him that I needed to be more disciplined with our money. We had goals we wanted to meet, and I knew my spending wasn't going to help us meet those goals.

We went to a strictly debit card system. That helped some. But when the account ran low, I just transferred in more. I wasn't completely out of control, but I didn't take the budget seriously.

Since the debit card thing wasn't working, we decided to switch to cash. Only cash! On the first of the month, I take out the cash from the bank. I come straight home and put it into envelopes based on the needs of the month (every month is different). Every dollar goes into an envelope with a purpose. Then those envelopes determine how we spend our month (pun intended).

I take the envelopes with me when I go out. I pay with cash at the grocery store. Let me tell you, it's a real pain! I use the calculator on my phone and subtract as I go so I don't get up to the front without enough money. I use cash in Target too. Those may be some really cute shoes, but if the clothing envelope is empty, those cute shoes are going to stay at Target.

And it's working!! We are meeting our goals and controlling our spending! I'm so proud at the end of the month when I haven't gone over our budget. There isn't usually a dollar left, but knowing that we met our goals for the month (and I that helped) is so exciting.

If you are working toward a financial goal or just want to control your spending a little bit better, I highly recommend that you try to go all cash for a few months. The first few months are the hardest. Remembering to take your envelopes with you when you go out is tricky. And knowing how much to put in each envelope takes trial and error. But I promise you that it works!

Maybe you are reading this and think I'm crazy. That's ok. Maybe you think cash is too complicated and you're happy with your plastic. That's fine. But I challenge you to try it. Go all cash for three months. See if you spend less. I'd love to hear how it works for you!

What do you think? How do you pay for stuff at your house? Have you tried all cash? Did it work for you?

Once Upon a time

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in The South.

She lived in The South of pearls and flip-flops, biscuits and gravy, shrimp and grits, and sweet tea. She lived in The South of every Sunday church attendance, slow-paced living and even slower talking. She lived in The South where there were no strangers. Everyone was a friend, and everyone knew everything about everyone else.

When this little Southern Girl grew up, she went to college in The South. That's where she met The Yankee Boy. He was a nice Yankee. She was very surprised by him because she thought nice Yankees were a myth, like gold at the end of the rainbow.

The Southern Girl fell head over heels for the Yankee Boy. She even agreed to marry him. She was sure the Yankee Boy would get a job in The South. He would come to love grits and biscuits and gravy. His Yankee upbringing would be cured when they lived together in The South. She was sure of it.

She was wrong.

The Yankee Boy got a job Up North.

The Southern Girl that agreed to marry the Yankee Boy had to move to The North!

She was convinced it would be awful. She had heard horror stories about life in The North. She just knew that all the Yankees would be rude and mean. They would talk way too fast and make fun of her accent.

But she would have followed that Yankee Boy anywhere.

At first, life in The North was very hard on the Southern Girl. The Yankees didn't speak the same as she did. They didn't eat the same foods. They didn't wear the same kind of clothes. Instead of Buggies, they had Shopping Carts. And they didn’t have Bag Boys at the grocery store. The Southern Girl had to bag her own groceries! And they certainly didn't act in a way she understood. These Yankees were mean!

The Southern Girl in Yankee Land had a lot to learn. She had to learn how to live without sweet tea at restaurants. The Yankee people didn't even know what sweet tea was! She had to learn how to keep her thoughts to herself in public. The Yankees did not seem interested in chatting as they rang up her groceries or prepared her coffee at Starbucks.

Over time, the Southern Girl made friends with the cashier at the grocery store. She learned to bag her own groceries. She made sweet tea for all of her friends. The Southern Girl in the Yankee Land learned that just because the Yankees appeared rude, didn't mean they really were. They just didn't know any better. Given a little bit of grace, the Yankees could open up and actually be nice people. The Southern Girl even started to appreciate some of what The North had to offer.

The Southern Girl and the Yankee Boy had babies. Growing up in Yankee Land made it hard to raise them as Southern babies. There was some confusion at first. The babies like black eyed peas - preferably cooked with ham chunks. Those are really hard to find Up North.  The Southern Babies in the Yankee Land like grits too. The Southern Girl had to ask her Momma to ship the grits to her.

The Yankee Boy and the Southern Girl are trying to raise their boys with a bit of balance. They are the kindest boys in Yankee land. They say Yes Ma’am and No Sir. They say please and thank you. That's the Southern in them. They are also really quick thinkers. They’re comfortable in big cities and familiar with mass transit. That’s the Yankee in them. They have the best of both worlds.

And what happened to the Southern Girl who married the Yankee boy?

She is a very happy.  She has learned that Yankees are not all bad. Most of them are actually very nice people. They just need help. She still loves to go South. She enjoys the slower pace of life Down South and good home cooking. But she appreciates the things that come from living in Yankee land too: cheese steaks, changing of seasons, big city adventures, white American cheese, and new experiences around every corner.

She still talks like a Southern Girl. It confuses the Yankees. She blesses their heart and calls them "Darlin'". But every once in a while, you will hear her holler at the car in front of her in a very unladylike fashion. The Yankees may be rubbing off on her.

But she will always be a Southern Girl.

Linking up with Finding the Funny.