Still That Girl

 You know what one of the strangest things about growing up is? Time travel.

Time is flying.  Rapidly!  But it sure didn't fly when we were kids.  Christmas and our Birthdays always seemed decades apart. We would make paper chains and special calender countdowns to help us pass the time.  Confession: Our 5 year old, Ryleigh, is trying to keep up with a paper chain countdown for Christmas and I can't keep up with it.  I am always having to take 2-3 chains off because time gets away from me. Dang.

Vacations, Holidays, and raising children pass us by in what feels like a blink of an eye.

Our oldest daughter, Cassity turns 11 next month. It is incredibly hard for my head to wrap around that.  Next fall,
I will have a daughter who is old enough to be in Junior High!!!

Holy Time Travel, Batman!

I vividly remember my 11th Birthday. Picture it!  November 7, 1991  My mom let me stay home from school (5th grade) and we went shopping.  I was a child trapped in a woman's body back then, I "matured" early and so I wore women's clothing.  I bought 2 sweaters that included shoulder pads, a dicky,  and stirrup pants.  That was also the day that Magic Johnson announced he was HIV Positive. (Talk about a Birthday Buzz kill!)

I am beginning to think that time doesn't wait for us.

I have so much I want to do!  I don't even know where to begin!  I used to have all these dreams and plans for myself and to be fair, I am living most of those dreams out (Mom, Check! Wife, Check! College Graduate, check!)
but there are some plans I made when I was young that I have suppressed-perhaps, even let die, because I just feel like there isn't enough time.

I joke about how my head is in the clouds and always dreaming.  Most of my ambition to do big things come from when I was younger and thought I had the world on a silver platter.  That was then and this is now.  Now I am in my 30's, chubby, aging, stressed, lazy, and walk with a limp. I am tired.  I am bruised.  I just want to lay on the couch and watch New Girl on Netflix.
I have written myself off and in doing so, I have written off all the hopes and plans I had when I was young.

WHY? Why do I do that?  Why do YOU do that?

So what? We had a couple of kids and got old, fat and  now we drive a mini van that smells like a 2 month old Happy Meal!
....none of that means we should put a nail in our coffin!
WE ARE NOT DEAD YET!

Let's make a plan, me and you.

What can we start doing TODAY that will ignite the old firey passions in our hearts that once were?

Baby steps.

You're Still that Girl. (Britt Nicole)

 Who's that Girl? It's Les!

 

I am going to get over you..

Oh Lord, I am going to try to tackle a subject that is
deeply personal and yet universal in all of our lives.

Heart break.

 I have avoided this kind of sharing because lots of people read this blog that I know-
like know personally.

My parents, my siblings, my grandma, my in laws, family members, friends, pastors, and lots of people that just plain know me.

It's easier to write to strangers about personal things... WHY IS THAT?

I will try to keep this light-intertwined with perspective and just enough detail to keep you interested.


My first real heart break comes to you from way back....back in the day, as they say.
We were High School Sweethearts- together for 3 years but in my mind, I had  our wedding planned,  our kids named, and had already made lots of other plans for our long life together.

In all my daydreaming, I  had practically perfected a beautifully signed signature with his last name attached to mine in preparation for all the  future Christmas cards, checks, permission slips,
we would sign someday.

As per usual, I lived in a world called SOMEDAY.

I had just transferred to a new college 4 hours from home and was conflicted
 with emotions.    You see, my long time boyfriend and I had decided that a
long distance relationship was not in the stars for us.

At least I think we decided.  It seemed logical.
Fine.

I think that, for my part, I didn't take our agreement to part ways as serious as he did.  I thought things would stay the same-we just wouldn't have the titles.  I would live 4 hours away and we would see each other once a month, when I came to town to get my braces tightened. 
(This shows you that it's been a while since I have been in the dating game. I was an infant.)

In my foggy haze of denial, I packed up my Honda CR-V  and left my little town- headed  250 miles away. It never occurred to me that I was closing a big chapter of my life.
 I thought nothing would change-nothing ever changes when you are 19 years old. 

In my delusion, I settled into my new dorm, met new friends, and was learning more about my new found independence on my own in a new place.  

I wish I could say that the guy that broke my heart was a real jerk.  I wish I could say that he was no good and trouble with a capital T, but the truth is, he was a sweet boy who treated me like gold.  He never raised his voice to me and always went along with any idea or plan I had made.  He was gentle and attentive and by all accounts thought I was the cat's meow.

Growing up is tough because you change.  When you are 16,17, 18, 19 years old, you just don't see yourself as changing.  (I think this is true for when you are 34 as well.) You think that you have learned all there is to know about life and the reality is-you don't.. like at all.
You know nothing.

Breaking up was hard for both of us.  Like I said, I digested my pain with denial and he digested his pain with well, reality.   While my head was in the clouds imagining how our first child's nursery would be decorated, he was actually moving on.

I remember where I was in my dorm when I heard that he had started seeing someone else.  I was shocked!  I was devastated.
The down side to not accepting reality is that the world doesn't play along with you.

He had moved on without me.

He was not a monster-he just kept going on with his life.  His world did not stop when I moved away.

I spent at least a month in my pink bathrobe watching Hope Floats on a 13 inch TV/VCR combo set. The movie would end and I would rewind it and watch it again.  It was pathetic-I was pathetic.

I just laid there in waded up snot rags feeling sorry for myself.

I tortured myself by thinking of all the new things he was doing with this new girl in my town-OUR TOWN! Hanging out with my friends-our friends!  I would go back home each month and would be smothered with memories and grieve him as if he was dead.
I would beg God to not let me run into him and in the next breath, beg God to let me run into him.

Some wise musicians of my generation Kriss Kross would say I was "wiggity wiggity wiggity whack!"

I had to grieve all those things I had dreamed about for us.  I had to learn to live with memories and know that -that was all they would ever be.  I would only see him from my life's rear view mirror, that seemed to be getting farther and farther away from what once was.

I don't know why it is, that when you are heartbroken you can't see how irrational you are acting?

 You create scenarios in your mind, like the ones you have seen in the movies where the one that breaks your heart, changes their minds and comes running back to you.  (In those scenarios in my head it always included rain, a rock, and a bedroom window.)   You pray that they will regret it someday and that there is a moment in their future where they will realize that you were the best thing that ever happened to them. 

You are absolutely certain that every song about heartbreak is specifically written about you. 

Everything about your life will feel like a Taylor Swift  music video.

Here is the reality about heartbreak:  It sucks.  There is nothing worse.  You can't fix it.  You can't hide from it.  It will have you asking all your friends if they think you are prettier than the new girl out of complete and total desperation.
Here is the reality check you have all been waiting for... Take a few months and wallow. Eat pizza and gallons of whatever kind of icecream you want. Watch chick flix and sob.  Look at old pictures and remember.  Talk to your friends.

Then.. get your sorry butt up and get over it.

You have too much going for you to waste it in la la land.  You  need to be brave and walk straight through it.


Heartbreak leaves us with scars.  They don't really heal exactly the same, you walk with limp.  You are different.

You learn. You grow. You keep walking.
You learn to live with the limp and after a while, you get used to it.

If I had to go back and change anything, I wouldn't.  I needed that dose of reality, I needed to learn that having my head in the clouds isn't always so dreamy.  I learned to see reality and appreciate people in my life and what they teach me even if it is only for short time.

I still walk with a limp but I still keep walking.  I have learned that what lies ahead of me is far greater than what I leave behind.

If you are dealing with a broken heart I want to encourage you to keep walking straight through it.

You can and you will get through this.

Keep walking.. your future is waiting!  Spoiler Alert....it all turns out exactly the way it should! 



Currently listening to: I'm Going To Get Over You by Sara Bareilles

Unfolding

I am not too hip on being surprised.
I kind of hate when things don't make sense.

So yeah, I will have a nice clear picture with a side order of predictability, thank you very  much.

You may not buy into this whole God thing...and to be honest, there are days that I get tired of the mystery that comes with all things christian.  There are times when I get tired of waiting on God and  just want to do my own thing.

The "problem" with that is, I just can't help myself!  I believe!

I believe in all of it-the whole thing.  Genesis to Revelation. From Creation to walking on water, from feeding the thousands with a little boy's lunch to parting dead sea.  I believe in the miraculous healing from making the blind see and the dead come to life.  All means all -all of it!

In my heart, at my very core, I just can't NOT believe that there are things about our lives that are bigger and better planned than what we could ever come up with on our own.

Out of the deepest, darkest, and most UNWANTED pain that we can endure grows wisdom.  Perspective that pieces the puzzle of our life together perfectly and dare I say beautifully!?

It's so annoying to almost all of us to hear "everything happens for a reason."

I don't like any of the reasons-especially when its painful.  There really is no reason or good that I want to learn from at the cost of losing someone I love or endure anything hurtful.

Betrayal.
Rejecetion.
Heartbreak
Injustice.
Failure.
Illness.
Depression.
Grief.


No thanks.  I would like to live in Pleasantville.

Growing up my dad would play Steven Curtis Chapman music in our van.  I grew up listening to his music and have always admired him from a distance.  6 years ago, one of his teenage sons was pulling into their driveway and in a horrific tragedy, accidentally ran over their youngest daughter, Maria, killing her.

.....I know, right?

I followed this story closely.  I watched  (and am still watching) as this family grieves.

I read the book,  "Choosing to See" that Mary Beth Chapman wrote about this and am inspired by her authenticity and strength...  She is wise.

I loved her response, in an interview, when she was asked about how she felt about others being changed and helped by their story.  In her raw mommy emotion she said:  I don't care about helping people-I just want Maria back.

She didn't try to candy coat it or over spiritualize her circumstances.. she was real.


Steven Curtis Chapman recently wrote a song called  Glorious Unfolding as a reflection of his grief journey and is quoted on his website as saying this:

“I’m very, very grateful to be given the opportunity to make music and share the things that I feel like God has entrusted to me,” Chapman says. “I don’t take it lightly. I pray: ‘God, I want to know You and I want to make You known.’ God has continued faithfully to reveal Himself through dark places and reveal His mysteriousness. I get the sense that He’s telling an amazing story. He’s not confused. He’s not biting his nails worrying if the plan is going to turn out okay the way I do. He’s fully confident of His plans and He’s in control. That’s been something that I’ve held onto.”




The gosh darn truth of the whole dang thing is that ....... things do happen that really suck.

It's easy to get mad at God or even decide that if following God means painful things happen, then we want no part of that.

Life is short.  You only live once. #yolo

Yes!  ....I just  can't...don't... won't.... believe that NOT believing in God is going to make our lives free of pain.


I guess what I am trying to say is that, when I look back on my lifetime, I want to know that there were low valleys and high mountain tops with windy unexpected blind curves of experiences and that every single one of them meant something.

Lessons were learned and are evident by our scars.  We earned those scars and lives were changed.

The picture became clearer the further forward we moved.

I like to believe that God gives us little clues and  with each experience, the picture keeps getting a little clearer.


...and that life is more than just living and dying, it is a glorious unfolding.

We All Die Famous In A Small Town

As my kids are getting older, I am starting to notice the difference in raising your kids in a large city and a small town.

I was raised in a small town and am now raising my children in a big city.

I grew up in the same town with both sets of grandparents, many of my aunts, uncles, and cousins who were really just extra siblings. My parents met in 2nd grade and were High School sweethearts.   My friend's parents all grew up with my parents.  During my school days, I had teachers that were my parent's teachers, some of my teachers went to church with my grandma and some of them attended the church my family attended.

Your worlds collide a lot when you live in a small town.

I knew every single person in my graduating class of 185 ish.  I grew up with them. Kindergarten- 12th grade. I have memories of almost all of them, be it through the classroom, church, cheerleading, choir, or any other activity I was involved in.  We were all together-all the time.

When you live in a small town, it is rare to not run into someone you know and there is an unspoken pressure to "keep your nose clean."

There is an old proverb about living in a small town that goes:

"You can not fart without the whole town smelling it." -Unknown

Wow, such wisdom.

When you grow up in a small town, everything is a big deal!  Senior Night, High School Graduation Open Houses, Prom, Wedding Showers, Weddings, and Baby Showers are comparable to The Emmy's or The Governor's Ball.

Dresses are fancier, hair is bigger, cars are newer, and  you just better keep up.

At a young age, it is known that you are to be involved in everything. Gymnastics, cheerleading, dance, soccer, t-ball, little league, swimming, and whatever else on the planet that there is to offer.


Parents are more tempted to compete with other parents to win the title of  "My Kid is Better Than Your Kid Award,"  or, perhaps, try to accomplish the things they didn't get a chance to accomplish in their own childhood and use their children as opportunities to do so.

(For the record: This is a blanket temptation for any parent wherever you live-it is just more visible when you live in a small town.  Everyone is watching!)

On the other hand, raising our kids in a big city has been an adjustment as well.  Nobody knows who you are and you don't know who they are. There is no pressure to ever put make up on or get involved in anything because nobody knows you exist.

Your kids will get invited to spend time with a friend from school and you will have no idea who the child is or who their parents are.

It's scarier to live in a big city.  People get murdered more... like 100% more.  Kids are not safe to stand at the bus stop alone and it is tempting not to let your kids leave the house for any reason in order to ensure their safety.

Dances, sports, and any other extra curricular activity is more expensive and there is no real pressure to  attach your identity to what you do after school.  Popular kids are not always athletes or even the best looking kid in school.  In fact, popularity is not the same thing in a large city school as it is in a small town school.

Big city kids are happy to have a few friends because it is impossible to know everyone  in your class.

Parents aren't competing with each other on a school level  but rather, they compete with themselves and their idea of what perfection looks like.


You can probably see that there are benefits to growing up in either scenarios.  I love my little town and all the personalities that make up that home sweet home community that I call mine.  I am who I am today because of the small town culture where I was raised AND something that I have learned through this big city living is that it is less important WHAT we are involved in and more important WHO we become.

Parents, whether you are raising your kids in a small town or a big city, always we keep WHO you are raising more important that WHAT they are involved in.

WHO > what