Friendship - such a foreign concept to me just a few short years ago. As an Air Force brat, we moved around every 3 years. I don't have that true 'home town' thing that most do. Some regrets there, yes. But there is also the fact that I could speak fluent French at the age of 8. Don't ask me to try now, you'll just get the average hello, how are you, goodbye, a few vulgar phrases maybe :) So the folks 'retire' (and I use this phrase loosely) outside of Smithville, Texas. Needless to say, culture shock! Going from a 6th story flat on a main drag in Brussels, Belgium to Rosanky, Texas rocked my 10 year old world. I gained a few friends quickly, those like me - the ones on the outskirts, the ones not born & bred there, I want to use the term 'the untouchables', but that seems a bit harsh.
Fast forward...I high-tailed it out of Smithville as fast as I could after high school, thinking it was the source of problems, my heartbreaks. I ran around like a gypsy for 12 years - Austin, Annapolis, Houston. After moving to the Houston area in May of 1990, I moved 11 times within 8 years. Seeing a pattern here?
So I move to Houston, I focus my life around 'the guy of the moment' and never acquire any true friends. Then in early August 2001, I found a body of believers that changed everything. I started going to a women's bible study and discovered that there are women out there that are different. These women want to make the world a better place - for themselves, for their husbands and for their children. One month later, that world was turned upside down, and I truly had God to turn to for comfort. I had been baptized at the age of 12, but don't think I had a clue what it was all about. Fast forward 3 years, a little upheaval due to ex-husband issues, and a brand new baby. My sweet friend, Beth Moore, coerced me into trying MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers). My first question to her was, "If I hate it, can I get a refund?". I quickly discovered that MOPS was my life saver. I found true girlfriends and mentors that have been there for me through the best and worst of times. I quickly jumped in with both feet and joined the steering team. MOPS was my passion - a place for moms who are lost, scared, feel all alone. My goal was to let every mom know that we all make these same huge mistakes. I craved transparency from other women and strived to be transparent for others. We are not all the 'Betty Crocker', the 'June Cleaver'. We all lose are patience, we all want to run away, we all get fed up with the man in our life.
MOPS led me to a play group, which I also fought...of course. My very first trial outing brought my sweet Baby Mama, Jody Kay, into my life. I realized that there are women out there that actually discipline their children, so I don't feel like I need to pull my hair out in their presence.
I don't even know where to begin with my mentors. Mama/Miss/Grandma Betty - where would I be without her? In her sweet beautiful way, she lifted me up, held me accountable (or tried to), supported me, loved on me, loved on my babies, hooked me up with her uber-wise lawyer daughter, Marilyn. Miss Beverly, who I pray for, love, cry over. My Women's Pastor, Brenda, who I am so like - compassion is not our forte, but we can attack a problem like a school of pirhanas.
Then there are the neighbors, Titi (aka Kristi), Elise, Becky, Jackie and Jenny. The women that hang with me in 'The Low Spot' (my front yard), the women that see the day in/day out, the women that I cry or rejoice with.
There are the few 20 year plus friends, Dana (poot), Stephanie, the girls from work (the ones you love one day and hate the next), some beautiful down to earth Smithville area ladies.
I have my regrets over friendships. A friend moves a few miles away - we lose touch. A friend moves an hour away - we lose touch. My Baby Mama moves a million miles away....I fear we lose touch. A new season of life comes along unexpectedly, suddenly my world again revolves around 'the new man' rather than the people that have lifted me up for so long. At 11:00 p.m., I think, "I need to call so and so". A little late, don't you think? I crave the time during the day to accomplish this. I crave the brain function to remind me at a normal hour. I pray that these precious women know how much they mean to me. I pray that they know how many jewels they have added to their crown by lifting up this poor, lost soul in good times and bad. I pray that I can be there for them in the best and worst of times. I pray they know how much I love them.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Cherish His gifts
There are so many things to say about Jody Kay. I'm sure that one blog about her will never suffice. I've just read the most beautiful blog she wrote: http://becausehesaidyoutoo.blogspot.com/2011/07/his-toe.html#comment-form . Her writing is beautiful, almost as beautiful as she is, inside and out. Jody Kay is one of the most incredible people you could ever hope to meet, and being part of her life is a blessing. Many, many people can attest to this.
When I met Jody, I never imagined we would become so close so quickly. She was wearing one of her famous do-rags and was larger than life. I left that playgroup date and went on about my life, never giving it another thought. Shortly thereafter, she began stalking me (at her own admission).
Praise God for that stalking. Fast forward through mom's nights out at her house, camping at Yogi, gym dates, hundreds of oh-so-happy kids in her presence, Rock Band in the man cave, a very interesting girls' weekend at GrandMom & GrandDad's with vanilla vodka and Ollie the owl, too many good times to remember.
Then came an early morning call to her in October 2008 for her help. She and Michelle cleaned my house, stayed with me, kept me sane. Fast forward again through months of prayer, support and the 'suck it up' attitude that I needed.
Jody Kay was with me when Regan was delivered. This is why she is dubbed my Baby Mama. She took charge of everything that needed to be done, all while singing sweet songs to Regan. Super Gramps talks all the time about how Regan stared up adoringly at her while she sang.
I miss that beautiful voice. I wish I had video of her singing to Regan and singing karaoke at their going away party. Jody's voice is a God-given gift that should be shared with the world.
Jon & Jody have moved to a galaxy far, far away, obeying God's will for their family. It feels like part of my heart has been ripped out. I know that He will use them mightily, but my stingy, selfish nature wishes they were still here, close enough to hug & smooch. I sit here boo-hooing as I look through photos. I miss my Jody Kay. Only one person on this earth knows more about me than she does. It is hard to find someone you can trust that much.
I pray that you have a Jody Kay in your life. If you don't, find one. Open your heart to the most unlikely friendship that might just change your life. If you do, cherish them...let them know.
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When I met Jody, I never imagined we would become so close so quickly. She was wearing one of her famous do-rags and was larger than life. I left that playgroup date and went on about my life, never giving it another thought. Shortly thereafter, she began stalking me (at her own admission).
Praise God for that stalking. Fast forward through mom's nights out at her house, camping at Yogi, gym dates, hundreds of oh-so-happy kids in her presence, Rock Band in the man cave, a very interesting girls' weekend at GrandMom & GrandDad's with vanilla vodka and Ollie the owl, too many good times to remember.
Then came an early morning call to her in October 2008 for her help. She and Michelle cleaned my house, stayed with me, kept me sane. Fast forward again through months of prayer, support and the 'suck it up' attitude that I needed.
Jody Kay was with me when Regan was delivered. This is why she is dubbed my Baby Mama. She took charge of everything that needed to be done, all while singing sweet songs to Regan. Super Gramps talks all the time about how Regan stared up adoringly at her while she sang.
I miss that beautiful voice. I wish I had video of her singing to Regan and singing karaoke at their going away party. Jody's voice is a God-given gift that should be shared with the world.
Jon & Jody have moved to a galaxy far, far away, obeying God's will for their family. It feels like part of my heart has been ripped out. I know that He will use them mightily, but my stingy, selfish nature wishes they were still here, close enough to hug & smooch. I sit here boo-hooing as I look through photos. I miss my Jody Kay. Only one person on this earth knows more about me than she does. It is hard to find someone you can trust that much.
I pray that you have a Jody Kay in your life. If you don't, find one. Open your heart to the most unlikely friendship that might just change your life. If you do, cherish them...let them know.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Fragile
What precious gifts we are given every day.
I cannot count the number of times that Bryan has compared us to Adam and Cynthia in the past few days. Before we came out to 'Mitland' (as she jokingly called it) last summer, he told me about their story. Though they both experienced pain and suffering in their past, they found their way to each other. Their true adoration of one another was apparent. Even when Cynthia was telling Adam how it was, waggling her finger in his face, you could see that twinkle in her eyes. He worshipped the ground she walked on. Cynthia's family sings Adam's praises, knowing he was the perfect man for her and how he honored her.
My mind keeps wandering down these paths regarding regret and fear.
So many times, we miss out on amazing opportunities because of fear. We would rather stay safe and stagnant in our little coccoon. Cynthia and Adam took a leap of faith, opened their hearts to someone, risking pain. Because of that, they had a short time of happiness. I found somewhere that the bible has the phrase 'fear not' 365 times, one for each day of the year. God knows what we need, sometimes we just need His push. When I think about taking a leap of faith, these lyrics come to mind: 'What if you jump and just close your eyes? What if the arms that catch you, catch you by surprise?'
Then we move on to regret. The ones we hurt the most are the ones we love the most. Misunderstandings can snowball into horrible situations, tearing friendships and families apart. We, as prideful humans, find it so difficult to let bygones be bygones, to forgive. A few weeks ago, Tiffany and I had a great lunch together. She is in the phase of her recovery where she is making amends. We talked about the things that had frightened me, we had some laughs and it was done. All of this is making me think that it would be a great idea, for me personally, to do this at least once a year. Of course, I'm such a non-confrontational person (read: chicken), that I would have to do all of mine in writing. Talking through ugly crying is not easy for me. All too often, we find ourselves in a situation where we don't have the opportunity to say goodbye, much less I'm sorry. How painful to be stuck in that situation. I've been going through my mental rolodex, searching for anyone that I need to reach out to. Of course there is always Jason, he's at the forefront. But there are others, much more minor grievances, but things that need to be set right. And if they can't be set right, at least the apology needs to be made. In the light of eternity, what does it matter who was right? One of my glaring faults is that I hold onto my anger, my resentment, my hurts. I will save emails, texts, letters so that I can whip them out at a later date and say, 'Look! See? This is what they said right here!' My need to be right and to prove it to others can overwhelm me. Obviously this is something that I need to work on. How to go about that, I don't know. But once all of this is over, I plan to sit down with my oh-so-patient husband and talk to him about it.
One of my favorite verses that kept popping up during my most chaotic time of life:
You number my wanderings;
Put my tears into Your bottle;
Are they not in Your book?
- Psalm 56:8
It brings me great peace to know that God sees every tear I shed, knows every hurt I experience. I imagine Him wincing like I do when one of our babies is hurt or sad. I've been praying this verse over Cynthia's family all day. I pray that He would somehow bring them peace during this time.
I hadn't seen Cynthia in over 20 years before last summer. I confessed to Bryan that I was petrified to see her again. I remembered her as 'Rocky', the super-tough girl that EVERYONE was afraid of. As it turned out, we clicked immediately. One of my favorite all-time memories is of the weekend we flew out here to pick up Adam's bike. Bryan was amazed when I told him that she and I had shared some tears. He told me that he couldn't remember ever seeing her cry. Of course, she had been telling me about what Memaw and Pawpaw meant to her and what they had done for her during that conversation. Cynthia loved her family, she would have fought tooth and nail for any one of them. I'm thankful for the tiny bit of time that I had with her and I'm thankful that she was so encouraging when I started riding. Cynthia was a very strong woman in so many ways. I have a vision of her up there telling God (with her finger waggling in His face) that she needs to be placed on the front line fighting The Evil One. None of this floating around playing a harp business for her!
I cannot count the number of times that Bryan has compared us to Adam and Cynthia in the past few days. Before we came out to 'Mitland' (as she jokingly called it) last summer, he told me about their story. Though they both experienced pain and suffering in their past, they found their way to each other. Their true adoration of one another was apparent. Even when Cynthia was telling Adam how it was, waggling her finger in his face, you could see that twinkle in her eyes. He worshipped the ground she walked on. Cynthia's family sings Adam's praises, knowing he was the perfect man for her and how he honored her.
My mind keeps wandering down these paths regarding regret and fear.
So many times, we miss out on amazing opportunities because of fear. We would rather stay safe and stagnant in our little coccoon. Cynthia and Adam took a leap of faith, opened their hearts to someone, risking pain. Because of that, they had a short time of happiness. I found somewhere that the bible has the phrase 'fear not' 365 times, one for each day of the year. God knows what we need, sometimes we just need His push. When I think about taking a leap of faith, these lyrics come to mind: 'What if you jump and just close your eyes? What if the arms that catch you, catch you by surprise?'
Then we move on to regret. The ones we hurt the most are the ones we love the most. Misunderstandings can snowball into horrible situations, tearing friendships and families apart. We, as prideful humans, find it so difficult to let bygones be bygones, to forgive. A few weeks ago, Tiffany and I had a great lunch together. She is in the phase of her recovery where she is making amends. We talked about the things that had frightened me, we had some laughs and it was done. All of this is making me think that it would be a great idea, for me personally, to do this at least once a year. Of course, I'm such a non-confrontational person (read: chicken), that I would have to do all of mine in writing. Talking through ugly crying is not easy for me. All too often, we find ourselves in a situation where we don't have the opportunity to say goodbye, much less I'm sorry. How painful to be stuck in that situation. I've been going through my mental rolodex, searching for anyone that I need to reach out to. Of course there is always Jason, he's at the forefront. But there are others, much more minor grievances, but things that need to be set right. And if they can't be set right, at least the apology needs to be made. In the light of eternity, what does it matter who was right? One of my glaring faults is that I hold onto my anger, my resentment, my hurts. I will save emails, texts, letters so that I can whip them out at a later date and say, 'Look! See? This is what they said right here!' My need to be right and to prove it to others can overwhelm me. Obviously this is something that I need to work on. How to go about that, I don't know. But once all of this is over, I plan to sit down with my oh-so-patient husband and talk to him about it.
One of my favorite verses that kept popping up during my most chaotic time of life:
You number my wanderings;
Put my tears into Your bottle;
Are they not in Your book?
- Psalm 56:8
It brings me great peace to know that God sees every tear I shed, knows every hurt I experience. I imagine Him wincing like I do when one of our babies is hurt or sad. I've been praying this verse over Cynthia's family all day. I pray that He would somehow bring them peace during this time.
I hadn't seen Cynthia in over 20 years before last summer. I confessed to Bryan that I was petrified to see her again. I remembered her as 'Rocky', the super-tough girl that EVERYONE was afraid of. As it turned out, we clicked immediately. One of my favorite all-time memories is of the weekend we flew out here to pick up Adam's bike. Bryan was amazed when I told him that she and I had shared some tears. He told me that he couldn't remember ever seeing her cry. Of course, she had been telling me about what Memaw and Pawpaw meant to her and what they had done for her during that conversation. Cynthia loved her family, she would have fought tooth and nail for any one of them. I'm thankful for the tiny bit of time that I had with her and I'm thankful that she was so encouraging when I started riding. Cynthia was a very strong woman in so many ways. I have a vision of her up there telling God (with her finger waggling in His face) that she needs to be placed on the front line fighting The Evil One. None of this floating around playing a harp business for her!
Friday, June 17, 2011
Big Daddy
Let me tell you about Jon....
I have a couple of men in my life that I call Big Daddy. Jon is one of them. To qualify for Big Daddy status, you must be exactly that - an amazing dad. Among Jon's many qualities, he is definitely that. I feel like he would give his life for not just his own children, but for any child. My Baby Mama and Big Daddy have been on my mind a lot lately, abandoning me and all. But yesterday I received a call from the Hartford PD, checking Jon's references. So of course I thought about Jon a ton yesterday. At the end of a very humorous phone call, the officer that called asked me if I could think of anything negative about Jon that they might need to know. That one threw me for a loop. I sat in silence wracking my brain to think of ANYTHING that might be even remotely negative. Not that I would have shared with the Hartford PD, but it surprised me that I could think of nothing. I finally answered with, 'Yeah, the punk moved away.'
So this brings me to the point of all of this. There is one very vivid memory of Jon that I've never shared with him. I know that I never would be able to verbalize it well enough for two reasons. 1. No words could ever explain the emotion involved in this. 2. I would break down in a sobbing pile of goo if I tried to say it aloud. (And yes, tears ARE running down my cheeks as I type.)
Shortly after my world blew up in my face, Jon & Jody's baby girl, Dylan, was born. I was 4 months pregnant with Regan and of course an emotional wreck. I sat outside the aquarium-like nursery area with Memaw Lynn, watching Jon adore that precious baby right after her birth. The look on his face, in his eyes, as he gazed upon his daughter was magical. The way he touched her, then held her, was how one would handle the most fragile of treasures. I had to turn away from watching him and choke back my sobs on that bench. I didn't know what God held in store for me, but I prayed then and there that He would provide a true daddy like that for my girls.
I love you, Jon. I appreciate the husband and father that you are for my second family, for the husband and father you were for us during our trial. Thank you for being the model for what I desired in my future.
I have a couple of men in my life that I call Big Daddy. Jon is one of them. To qualify for Big Daddy status, you must be exactly that - an amazing dad. Among Jon's many qualities, he is definitely that. I feel like he would give his life for not just his own children, but for any child. My Baby Mama and Big Daddy have been on my mind a lot lately, abandoning me and all. But yesterday I received a call from the Hartford PD, checking Jon's references. So of course I thought about Jon a ton yesterday. At the end of a very humorous phone call, the officer that called asked me if I could think of anything negative about Jon that they might need to know. That one threw me for a loop. I sat in silence wracking my brain to think of ANYTHING that might be even remotely negative. Not that I would have shared with the Hartford PD, but it surprised me that I could think of nothing. I finally answered with, 'Yeah, the punk moved away.'
So this brings me to the point of all of this. There is one very vivid memory of Jon that I've never shared with him. I know that I never would be able to verbalize it well enough for two reasons. 1. No words could ever explain the emotion involved in this. 2. I would break down in a sobbing pile of goo if I tried to say it aloud. (And yes, tears ARE running down my cheeks as I type.)
Shortly after my world blew up in my face, Jon & Jody's baby girl, Dylan, was born. I was 4 months pregnant with Regan and of course an emotional wreck. I sat outside the aquarium-like nursery area with Memaw Lynn, watching Jon adore that precious baby right after her birth. The look on his face, in his eyes, as he gazed upon his daughter was magical. The way he touched her, then held her, was how one would handle the most fragile of treasures. I had to turn away from watching him and choke back my sobs on that bench. I didn't know what God held in store for me, but I prayed then and there that He would provide a true daddy like that for my girls.
I love you, Jon. I appreciate the husband and father that you are for my second family, for the husband and father you were for us during our trial. Thank you for being the model for what I desired in my future.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
The Fairy Tale
Once upon a time, there was a young woman with a great career, plenty of money to play, great friends and a good husband. The young woman waited later than most to start a family, intending to continue her career after her princess arrived. Then reality set in and the young woman realized there was no way she was going to let someone else raise that princess. So God provided very well for the family, blessing them at every turn. The princess grew and prospered, the pride of the young woman's heart. The young woman discovered growth, fellowship and mentors at a wonderful church. This was the beginning of the young woman's life, the beginning of the end for her marriage. The life she knew was not reality. Fast forward through turmoil, pain, incredible friends and family, blessings and slow healing. She gave birth to her second princess. Even though life pretty much was chaos, she knew that God had a plan. She prayed that He would show His might through the healing of her marriage. It took quite some time for her to realize how much God had blessed her by removing that marriage. She made many mistakes - legally, emotionally, with her children. Then there came the 'stupid phase'.... 6 months of not livng her witness, drinking too often, dating men that would never have been acceptable spouses or fathers for her princesses. She had wonderful people in her life to hold her accountable, pray for her and the princesses and a God that refused to let His girl go. She finally came to her senses and swore off dating, deciding to focus on work and the princesses. THAT is when God brought her His gift for her obedience. Enter said gift, a wonderful, sexy, funny, gorgeous man - the ideal husband and father. They both had sworn off dating, but it soon became clear that this could work. If you know me, you know the rest of the story. Needless to say, life is never a fairy tale, there will always be problems, people that are toxic, evil knocking at your door. But God has a plan...he will use the bad to bring good. Is it easy? Not always. The most difficult adjustment is having a spouse that is intelligent, a doer, holds me accountable, doesn't take my crap. I praise God daily for my Sweet Poppa, my gorgeous man. Every moment of pain, every unwanted truth revealed, the fear of the unknown and an uncertain future are all now worth it. Now it is up to me to honor God's gift by being the wife and mother He would have me be.
Time to unload!
On a regular basis, people/things/circumstances are thrown in our path that can really mess things up. I find myself whining about these things instead of 'being still and knowing He is God'. My hope for this blog is to delve into these issues with a positive attitude, to focus on the amazing work God does in the desert places. Hopefully this will provide and attitude adjustment for me and a more positive outlook. Also, I pray that it will help me to hand these issues over to God immediately, instead of trying to 'handle' them under my own power. One would think that at 40 years of age, that I would already know that this is an impossiblity....but I'm a little hard-headed!
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