Compliment or Insult?

Did you ever have a compliment that was more like an insult? The only reason you recognized it as a compliment was from whom it came and even then it had to be accompanied by an explanation?

OK you’re thinking I’m crazy. Well my dad told me I was arrogant. That was his compliment. ARROGANT! That doesn’t sound like a compliment. When further explanation was given, I realized he really did me arrogant. He didn’t mean confident, proud or even just focused. He meant arrogant.

Now how do you follow a compliment of “You’re arrogant” with any explanation that appeases it? Well first off, look at the source. My dad is the second most amazing man I know (second to my husband). He loves me probably more than I could imagine. He has taught me to love, live and loose. He is gracious and merciful, kind and loving, gentle and strong, meek and humble. OK, if you’re reading this dad, don’t get a big head and remember the humble part.

Anyways, back to the “compliment.” I looked at the source and wondered if he was pointing out something I needed to change in me. Based on the context it seemed that wasn’t it. I wondered if he misspoke and meant something else, but he continued on and I knew he meant it. So how on earth did I figure out it was a compliment? He said that I was just like him and he was smiling. Good thing he was sitting across the room or I may have hit him. Oh and the look on his wife’s face when he called me arrogant was priceless.

Needless to say, my dad and I have an amazing relationship. He is my second favorite person in the world (once again second to my husband). He is my best friend and I probably know more about him than most. We have been close my entire life and he truly is a Godly man. Some in my life have questioned our relationship, telling me it was enmeshed and unhealthy. The true is, not many have an amazing Godly relationship with their dad. In today’s world, many people do not have relationship at all with their dad.

This relationship has had many benefits in my life and some downfalls as well. When I was making “bad” choices, I lost relationship with my dad for a time. Now, I am pained knowing I put him through my “bad” choices. But when I went through the pain of loosing my first husband, my dad was the shoulder on which I cried. When he lost my mom, I was there picking up the pieces and trying to fill some holes she left.

So back to the upside down and backwards compliment, I’m arrogant. What was my dad saying to me that day? He compared me to him and still how is that a compliment? Well it comes down to this, my dad raised me to believe that what I am going to accomplish in life has a great deal to do with what I put into it combined with the promises God has already laid out for me. When I believe that God has called me to something greater and I work for it, well then that’s what’s going to happen. Nothing’s going to stop me. Arrogance is one for it.

I believe I can be the top of the top of the field in which I plan to go. Not only that but I won’t stop till I get there. God didn’t call me to the middle; He called me to the top. I can’t do it all today and that’s not what I want. Here at the bottom though, I will take one step at a time. Sometimes I will have to stop and catch my breath, but I’m heading all the way up.

The funny thing is I’m not a goal oriented person. I’m a journey person. That, of course, drives my goal driving husband up the wall. I’m always asking him to stop and enjoy now. We’ll get there when we get there, but enjoy now! But in the end, I do have goals. I do want to go to the top. BUT, I don’t have to just go there. My husband always has us moving to the goal. I make us stop and catch our breath, look around and enjoy where we are right now.

So how on earth does a “journey” person get to the top? One step at a time…

Up and running…

Our family does not make New Year Resolutions. Instead, we make goals in three areas: God, family and personal. This year I committed to several things. Some I have accomplished already. Some are in the works and others I have fought the entire way. Every few months I look at my goals to see where I am.

Needless to say, I’m up and running. I am running in the blessings of the “already accomplished goals.” I am seeing the finish line on the “in the works goals.” The ones with which I am fighting, those still sit on my “to do list” every day and I poke them. Sometimes I scratch them, but I struggle to just “do” them.

One of the things I have been fighting with is this Blog. I am a writer. I don’t know that I was born a writer, but it was definitely a skill set that was nurtured in me by my mom. She was a writer. She loved to write. Somehow in her passing, I found my voice and now feel writing is honoring her.

So why commit to Blogging but then fight it? No one is asking me to do this (or rather no person is asking me to do this.) I do feel that God is asking me to become vulnerable through my writings in order to stretch out my hand of service in a “new” venue. I love the face to face chats. I love meeting my girl friends for coffee (even at their house or in mine) or chips and salsa or dinner. I love to see their face when we chat. I love to see the tears and let them see mine. I am very transparent with my gals and vulnerable in person.

Blogging is the same but different. I am being transparent and vulnerable, but I do not hear your voice, see your face and experience your emotions. I say it; it’s out there; there is no taking it back.

So why do I feel God is calling me to this? What could possibly be the purpose of Him calling me to Blog? Well, one of the first things I wrote opened doors I thought were bricked over. From that moment, I have experience the same thing over and over. I have renewed friendships. I have deepened relationships. I have peace in areas of my life that were wrestles. So why do I fight?

Well just because I have been blessed by this does not make it easier, it should but doesn’t. I do want to say this to those who listen, thank you. I don’t know who you are always and that’s the way it was designed. I pray that God uses me daily to spread His word and not mine. I ask that if this has “touched” you to share it. Oh and right up front I’m going to say I know I am long winded…I guess I have more to say than I thought.

I am living out my calling in ways I would not have designed for myself. All the same I know for sure that I am doing for what He has called me. I pray for all who listen that God will bless your lives. OK, back to being up and running…no more fighting here.

When did this happen?

I got lost some where along the line. I’m pretty sure I knew where I was going when I began, but then again I could be wrong. I’m almost certain there were not all these stops along the way when I planned my trip. Oh…wait…I’m not in charge of this trip…He is.

OK, I woke up this morning and took a shower, put on lotion then got into clothes that would be described by most as pajamas: sweat shorts and a tank top. I threw my hair in a pony tail and climbed back into bed. I began doing homework on my lap top only to be interrupted no less than a dozen times for everything from “Can I have milk?” to “Can I let the dog out?” and even “I’m bored.” In between these interruptions, my phone rang several times, I received several text messages, my alarm buzzed reminding me to feed the dog and I ordered an Edible Arrangement online for my step daughter’s birthday (which I had to call my hubby twice to verify things). Oh and after having to restart my lap top for the second time this morning, I researched new lap tops.



By ten in the morning I decided it was a lost cause to read anymore and got the kids ready to go to Sam’s Club while talking in length on the phone with my sister-in-law about the next five months. That’s right; we were planning holidays in the beginning of August. I take that back, we talked about holidays through spring break, so I guess it was more like eight months of plans.

I got through Sam’s Club just over $100 as usual and decided to feed the kids there because of course it took longer than I planned and we were all very hungry now. Then I ran into the reptile store to get crickets for the lizard. On the way home I melted in the car because I told my hubby to take the car with AC being I thought I wouldn’t go anywhere (though I’m not sure why I though that because there’s no food in the house). All the way home the girls proceeded to name the twenty crickets I just purchase, names included: Haley, Haley Bob Jr., Road Kill, Petunia, Frank, Pickle, Fatty and well I guess you can see there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the names.

I got home and unloaded what seemed like very little for the money I just spent all to realize I had told my hubby I was going out today. He asked if I would get him razor blades. Guess what I did not get while I was out today: razor blades. So now I’m trying to figure out why I have the no-AC-car and if I can push razor blades to another day. Of course I will because I’m not going out again today…too hot!

Then I got on Facebook for a bit and looked at my email. That’s when it hit me, how on earth did I get here. I think at some point I had some kind of style. I think I used to like nice things and wear nice things. I think I used to want a cute house with style. But now…

I live in pajamas most days and my hair being done is a pony tail (and not a cute styled one, but one that was just pulled back). My idea of primping is putting on lotion. A nice night with my hubby is just sitting in peace and quiet in front of the TV after kids go to bed, though we do go on the occasional date. I think I used to want a stylish home, but now my house is decorated in “I do not care if it gets totally destroyed” motif. I know stylish moms and have been to their nicely decorated home. I can’t figure out when or how I got lost.

There are parts of me that want to be stylish, wear nice clothes, have a nicely decorated home and have stylish kids. I dress myself, my home and my kids for comfort most of the time. To be honest, my biggest styling is permanent: tattoos and piercing. Deep down inside, I want to change just about everything in my home and my look. That all takes money, something there is little of in a big family.

So I continue to eat at the table that used to be my mom’s (which I would have never picked for myself). I have an eclectic closet and my kids wear hand-me-downs or great ARC finds. My fence has been patch too many times to count. I put down rugs to distract the eye from the fact that the carpet and the couch totally clash. Most of my décor is things I got as gifts but would not have picked for myself (with exception to a new picture I got for my birthday, which I would have picked myself.)

Here’s what it boils down to for me: “You can’t take it with you.” I would love to wear the cute little skirt and matching tank with new sandals and a matching necklace. I would love to have the walls in my home painted and a nice hard wood floor with a newly remodeled kitchen. I would love to shop at the mall for my kids’ clothes. BUT…I also love my home for the warmth my kids bring to it. I love that my kids get excited about the “new” bag of clothes someone dropped off. I love feeling comfortable enough in my own skin that my clothes do not define me. And I also love living in the house that my mom used to live in and even using her furniture. This is a home I would have never been able to afford on my own, but with my hubby and my dad’s assistance, we can. And it’s my H O M E.

In the end, this is not where I thought I was going. BUT…I’m really happy here. I will never be a designer girl and never really wanted that. I do have my own style and I can’t always afford to dress that way (and that’s OK). My home has “lived in” written all over it. And if my daughter spills ice cream on her shorts while we’re at Sam’s Club, I’m not angry (she’s the second kid in them anyways).

My heart & my child’s heart…they ache

So it’s been a tough couple of days. There has been a lot going on in my life, in my family, and in my friends’ lives. In the midst of it all, I clearly hear God asking me to “Be Still” and I am totally struggling with it. I’m not struggling with the whole being still part, it’s that there are no specific directions that went with it. Can someone sat “Type A” and I need a to do list!

Am I supposed to re-prioritize? Am I supposed to do less at church or the kids’ schools? Am I supposed to just be still physically? When I am still, can I still reach out and serve others? What if a need arises, do I get to meet it? OK, just to be clear, God’s answer to all those questions and more was “Be still and know I am God (and you are not!)” Believe me; I could not be making up the message. Everywhere I turned this past week, it was on my mind, in the words of others, audible spoken in my ear, oh and even written on a pen my husband handed me! REALLY, I did get the message the first time God.

So where did it take me this week? It honestly took me to some really dark places, followed by great joy, again into darkness, followed by peace and finally into a peaceful darkness that still has not brought the specifics of “Be still.”

As I sat in my stillness that was also joined by a period of quietness, I found myself grieving. The last time God asked me to be still, my first husband was sick and passed away. As I sit in my stillness this time, I do not believe He will bring the same things to my life as last time, but I am still fearful. I have to wonder if I am being prepared for a “rough” patch and need to be focused for the events to come and that’s when the fear enters.

As I wrestle with God this past week, I talked with my husband, I wrote in my journal, I talked with some friends, I prayed and I did my best to “Be still.” I asked Him a lot of questions and He answered the same every time, all the while I relived the grief of my life.

I sat and remembered loosing my first husband followed soon after by loosing my mom. Being remarried and my dad remarried as well, has brought a different layer to my grief. I miss my mom, but I love that my dad is happy and I love his wife. I miss my first husband but I love my life now with my current husband. Then my kids…

I sat in my eldest daughter’s room last night. She has been “messy” this week. Knowing she is a pre-teen, I figured it could be anything from hormones to a lost book or something very real. I asked her what was going on and she burst into and tears and said, “I don’t know.” I told her by her response it was obvious there was something bothering her (obvious to me it was the something very real option).

We dug in and I discovered my little girl is trying to dig her way through the same emotions I am. She misses her Nana, but loves that Papa is happy and remarried and also loves her new Oma. She loves her life and her family to include my husband, but misses daddy. She even thinks daddy would be happy that another man is there taking care of her and loving her. How can she miss them so much and love the “new” people?

The worst part of the conversation was telling my little girl that I didn’t have the answer. I was also struggling to live today happy and still miss yesterday. I don’t have it all figured out, but I know it’s OK to feel all of these things. Relating to her was helpful, but as her mommy I just want to fix it. Telling her I couldn’t and even if I could I wouldn’t really sucked!

The truth is the more I think I “get through it” the more I realize it’s just with me. I can’t get to the other side of grief. I will carry these people, the memories and the grief forever. I deal with it differently through time, but I still carry it. The load may seem lighter now, but it’s really that I am stronger because of the love that I have in my life.

When my daughter said she’s beginning to “forget them,” I knew what she meant. It’s not them we are forgetting but their voice, their smell and their body. We have them in our memories, but their voice is now ours. We have special items of theirs, but now they smell like us. We see their pictures in our home, but we do not think we see them in the distance any more.

In the end, I felt just as “messy” as she. We talked and the tears stopped. I don’t think either of us feel any better, just not alone. I realize more now that it is my children who are with me in this journey. As their mom, I would like to have it all figured out for them and guide them. The reality is that we are both on the journey. I am not leading them nor them leading me. We are walking side by side “messy” but not alone. And between us is the ultimate comforter, Jesus. He knows our grief and does not take it from us but teaches us through it that we may be more like Him because of it.

I still do not feel released from being still, but I can at least say I’m not fighting it quite as much. If this moment with my daughter is the only thing I get out of it, then that’s good enough for me. If He’s preparing me for much more, that’s OK too. I’m not alone. I am being still, but I’m not alone.