Greatness... or Mediocrity?

I am in the process of visiting other churches.  It halfway breaks my heart to do so because it will be a solid closing of a door on my parents not being here, and saying goodbye to a huge part of my history.  First Baptist has been a stable part of my life in New Orleans.  I love the people there.  I love the history I have.  But I feel a pull to explore other places of worship.  Or rather, God is pulling me.

My boys and I have been forming our own little unit since my parents moved.  We are closer than we have ever been.  They rely on me more than they ever have.  There is no one to catch me if I fall in the way only parents can catch you. 

We drove by their old house the other day, at the insistence of my 5 yr. old.  We were all quiet as we passed by...each of us most likely flooded with memories of feeding the chickens, swinging, sitting in front of the fire, playing basketball, frying turkeys, drinking coffee on the patio.  Silence and memories hung in the SUV like the damp.

Those memories of sweet fellowship are a part of who we were created to be.  God created us to be in close relation with others.  He created us with this deep need for fellowship and belonging.  He created us in His image...and His greatest desire is to walk closely with us. 

With the state of affairs now, there is typically no single person that will walk with you throughout your life.  Your close relationships typically shift from person to person.  There was a time in my life when my sister was my closest companion because we lived together.  Husbands, roommates, boyfriends, parents, siblings ... all took their place in my life as my closest relationship at different times. 

My relationship with God, however, was always the underlying current.  Whether I acknowledged Him or not, He knew me better than anyone.  He should have always been my closest relationship because of His intimate knowledge of me and His incomprehensible love for me.  But being the stubborn girl who has to try everything out for herself, I did not stay by His side.

Our bodies are fascinating machines.  They can take quite a bit of beating and still function.  However, when we function without doing what's best for our bodies, our bodies tell on us.  We gain fat instead of muscle, our sleep suffers, we develop disorders and diseases, our skin ages, our muscles ache, our bones creak, our brain chemistry changes.  We are still functioning, but not at our maximum ability.  We are just getting by.  We continue to make poor decisions about our health because we don't know how we are SUPPOSED to feel.  We have accepted that we feel like crap most days because we don't know any different.

This is parallel to our need for Jesus.  We can still function without Him.  We can still find happiness.  We can still find wealth.  We can still have close relationships.  We still laugh and cry and enjoy life.  We still find love.  But we are missing out on the ultimate experience of being human.  We have settled for less than great.  We focus on what we THINK will make us happier than we've ever been (like my miserable attempts at romance) but the truth is the opposite.  We make decisions based on temporary emotions and fleeting needs.  We end up making it more difficult on ourselves to find those things by denying who God is.  But like our decisions about our health, we don't know what it feels like to be the best version of ourselves.  We just accept that this sub-par life is how we are supposed to feel.  These sub-par relationships are good enough. 

God is not a set of rules and regulations.  He's not a mean puppet master ready to whack us into submission.  He is simply the best course we could ever choose to take.  He knows it.  We just don't.  He is our most healthy life.  He is our fullest life.  He is the epitome of goodness and wholeness.  He is our most complete self.

When I am contemplating eating crap instead of good food, I get this flash of how I'm going to feel in a few hours (or minutes).  I know I will be dragging.  I know I will want to sit and not finish my To Do list.  I know I'll likely sleep less and I will be more restless. 

Likewise, I know when I make decisions that are less than great I am also doing it with the knowledge that I'm cheating myself of greatness.  I send that text or agree to that date.  I spend time with that person who brings out terrible traits in me.  I watch that disturbing movie or listen to that creepy podcast about a serial killer.  I take a nap instead of go for a run.  I eat the crap anyways, with the full knowledge that it will not make me feel like the best version of myself.  All for the temporary satisfaction to my taste buds or my ego.  Or because it mirrors how I'm feeling about myself in that moment.

God is always the better option because He created us.  He KNOWS us.  He knows exactly what decisions will lead us to be the best version of ourselves and which ones won't.  It's not out of spite that He gives us discernment when making decisions.  It's love.  It's always been love.

As my boys and I set out on this path to find another church home, we go in search of our individual greatness.  I want the fullest of lives for them and I'm trusting that we'll find it as long as we stay close to our Author and Creator.  Relationships may come and go, but He's not going anywhere.  Our relationship with Him translates to our most complete self.  Without Him, we are living a life doomed to mediocrity.  And they're worth more than that.

Judgment and Heart

My oldest performed at his school fair yesterday.  We had to park five blocks away because the fair was so packed.  We were running to get there in time, and then once there I realized we had left the tickets in the car.  I decided to book it back to the car after leaving Graham with his grandparents and Brady with his class because I had to work a booth right after the performance.  I had six minutes. 

I made it in time to see the performance, but I had to stand in the back.  Brady couldn't find me.  His face looked stressed while his little eyes darted around the crowd.  He was doing the motions perfectly, but his mind was on where his momma was.  The first thing he said after his performance was, "Where were you, momma?" 

Being single is a lonely affair most of the time.  Activities are planned to avoid this loneliness, but the most important part of these activities is the company, not the activity itself.  If I'm not with people I love and who love me, the activity is not as enjoyable.  It doesn't matter if I'm on a beautiful island at an all inclusive resort or in my living room.  If the company is wrong, the whole activity fails to deliver the desired result.  Brady did not care that he was performing for a crowd.  He just wanted his momma to see him perform.

I remember the last time I went to a bar I was hopefully looking around for a face who knew me.  Though I "know" most people there, I don't really.  I don't know what makes them tick.  I don't know what they do when they're bored or how they handle conflict.  I don't know much.  This doesn't decrease their value as humans, it just means that our individual relationship is not one based on knowledge of who they are. 

I went on a date recently and the man I was with asked what my biggest pet peeve was in a relationship.  I said without hesitation that it was being misunderstood without questioning.  I surprised him and myself with how quickly I answered.  I had just gotten a taste of this, and decided it was the worst feeling possible.  His response was, "Oh, that's a good one.  I've never thought about that."  Neither had I.

Being misunderstood means that you are unknown.  Being misunderstood is a common occurrence in our world full of social media "friends" and followers.  Our actions become the main focus, and our intentions are lost.  Our hearts are silenced and the actions take center stage.  It is the ultimate platform for judging based on appearances.  If someone wants to know you, they will ask questions so they can understand where you're coming from.  If they don't, no questioning follows the misunderstood action...just judgement.

But if someone knows you, they know your heart in everything you do.  They know your reasoning behind your social media posts.  They understand why you put yourself out there.  They understand your intentions because they know your heart. 

Without someone knowing our heart, our actions are misunderstood.

Perhaps that's why dating is so tricky.  We are putting ourselves out there with vulnerability and are being judged without being known. 

My son was not concerned with the many "fans" in the crowd.  He just wanted his momma to see him...the one who knows him.

Regardless of those quick to judge and cast their votes without knowing me, I will continue to put myself out there, pick myself up and move on.  (Even if that means short stints of crying in the bathroom.)  I have no choice but to press on.  I will continue to expose myself to criticism without too much concern because the One who truly knows me gets me.  And He has given me an incredible inner circle who know my heart.  They are the ones who make my performance meaningful.

https://youtu.be/cVVlMQved8k

Empty Candy Jar and Lessons in Love

My boys get rewarded for doing random acts of kindness without being prompted.  Each time I catch them being kind, they get a piece of candy. (I need to change this to a healthier reward but until the Halloween candy jar is emptied, we will march on.)  Their response when they realize they have been kind without thinking about it is priceless. 

This practice in rewarding good behavior has been a reward for me also.  It refocuses my attention to my core value...and that is being kind in every circumstance.  Instead of dwelling on my negative behavior, I dwell on goodness.

This recent humiliation has been challenging for this, however.  I find myself saying over and over, "of course you messed this up, Rebekah.  You mess everything up."  I own the undesired outcome and make it my fault.  I place all the blame squarely on my shoulders and try to carry that along with my seemingly very large and heavy piece of the world, all at once.  And of course I'm not strong enough to carry that so it sends me down a spiral that's full of all my negative self-talk that I've worked so hard to get rid of. 

"You're a mess, Rebekah."

"You will always be alone, Rebekah."

"You will never find a man who can handle you, Rebekah."

"What you need doesn't exist, Rebekah."

"You run everyone off, Rebekah."

"You should be more normal, Rebekah."

"You should behave like other women do, Rebekah.  They are together, so why can't you get with it?"

"You need to be less intense, Rebekah."

"If you had played it right, you would have gotten the guy, Rebekah.  But of course you screwed that up with your personality."

...and on and on it goes until I feel like I'm going to throw up the little that I ate that day.

When all I should be saying is,

"We are clearly not a good match."

And leave it at that.  End of story.  Done.  No fault prescribed to either party.  Just differences in personality that make us incompatible. 

But that's not the whole truth.  The whole truth is that I behaved disrespectfully by posting pictures and he returned the sentiment with disrespect.

But one action does not make up the whole of a person.

I was lifting weights with my friend and we were talking about the nightmare that is divorce.  (I am a bit sorry for all who are within earshot of us.)  We were discussing the many failed attempts at dating in my life since my divorce.  And I settled on this comment:  it is extremely unfair to be judged as a person when in circumstances that are temporary and extreme.

I was temporarily insane...for two years.  How I grappled with divorce and suddenly being a single mom was just my reaction to a terrible situation.  Many people do not have to walk through that fire, so they are able to hide their particular version of crazy.  But it was a necessary part of my journey, and the ones I met along the way were there just to assist me in my growth and calm some of the crazy.

I've met quite an array of personalities during this journey.  Each of them gave me pieces of wisdom that have been important.

There was the man that was a liar.  He taught me the importance of proceeding with caution and discernment. 

There was the man who was untrustworthy and detached.  He taught me the importance of having girlfriends that allowed you to cry without ceasing and would love me despite my foolish decision to keep taking him back.

There was the man who was kind and funny.  He taught me the importance of enjoying the moment.

There was the man who was lazy and non-committal.  He taught me the importance of following through.

There was the man who was settled in his ways.  He taught me the importance of stability.

There was the man who was obsessed with his health.  He taught me the importance of discipline.

(Side note...my son is sitting beside me on my desk with gas.  It's hard to concentrate with the stench.)

There was the man who was quick to assume and judged me harshly based on one action.  He taught me the importance of acceptance, forgiveness and individuality.

None of these were failures.  All of them were necessary.  I met them in order to change my view of the world, of myself, and of God.  I met them so I would be able to accumulate goodness despite the heartaches. 

(Another side note...my other son just greeted me with a toot.  Boys.  Firm eye roll.)

The beauty of life is that we get a new start with each new day.  We can decide THAT DAY that we will do things differently.  We can decide to show strangers kindness.  We can choose to praise good behavior.  We can choose to change our negative self-talk to encouragement.  We can choose to get up and keep going, even if that means leaving a piece of our broken hearts behind temporarily.

Because one day all the pieces will come back together, and we'll be able to live whole heartedly.  And by then the candy jar will be empty.

https://youtu.be/DIE3gdzALfA

Second Wind

Marren Morris

Why do we build up all these idols

Just to watch 'em fall?

You're wearin' the crown, toast of the town

And no one takes your call

Yeah maybe I've been down, down, down, down

But I always come back around, 'round, 'round, 'round, yeah

You can't forget about me

While you weren't lookin' I was gettin' even higher

Say what you want about me

Your words are gasoline on my fire

You can hate me, underestimate me

Do what you do cause what you do don't phase me

Just when you think I'm at the end

Any second I'ma catch my second wind

Na na, na na, na na

An airplane's only paper 'til it finds a breeze

But don't you know that it's the low that makes the high so sweet?

When they try to break, break, break you

That's when you get your break, break, breakthrough, yeah

You can't forget about me

While you weren't lookin' I was gettin' even higher

Say what you want about me

Your words are gasoline on my fire

You can hate me, underestimate me

Do what you do cause what you do don't phase me

Just when you think I'm at the end

Any second I'ma catch my second wind

Na na, na na, na na na na

Na na, na na, na na

Yeah maybe I've been down, down, down, down

But I always come back around, 'round, 'round, 'round

You can't forget about me

While you weren't lookin' I was gettin' even higher

Say what you want about me

Your words are gasoline on my fire

You can hate me, underestimate me

Do what you do cause what you do don't phase me

Just when you think I'm at the end

I'ma catch my second wind

I'ma catch my, , na na

I'ma catch my, (na na) I'ma catch my, (na na)

I'ma catch my, (na na) I'ma catch my second wind

Na na, na na, na na (Ohh) 

Na na, na na (yeah) na na

Na na, na na, na na

Facebook Killed my Love Life

I was driving to Dallas when I got a Facebook message from a guy I knew a long time ago.  I was driving through his town so I popped up as a possible match for him on a dating app.  At first I didn't remember much about him, so I asked my parents if they remembered him.  The tone in the car immediately changed to excitement.  It was affirmative.  He was a great catch and would be a great match for me.  We spent the next week texting and video chatting.  I was beaming.  My mom said she had never seen me so happy.  He was a successful, handsome man who loved Jesus.  Surely this was it.  Surely I had just found the love of my life.  And surely because of the random way we reconnected, this was no coincidence...surely God was in it.

I deleted numbers from my phone, I removed myself from the dating app, I turned down invitations to go out.  I was totally smitten.

I'm not a girl who is quick to commit.  I have been asked to stop seeing other people many times before, and my answer was always the same...I'm not ready.  The truth was, I just didn't like them enough to commit.

So this complete disinterest in other men was a rare occurrence.  I do not get excited easily over men.  I have learned to proceed with a bit of caution and a large amount of pessimism.  Dating was just a prolonged way of figuring out I didn't like them in the first place.  So this meant something to me.  It felt different.  It was different.  I was different.

And then came my birthday.  Being the social media person who is considering different aspects of business that I am, I shared my evening with my 1,000+ friends on Facebook, excitedly showing my slice of the world that it was possible to enjoy your 40 something birthday when you're a single mom.  My friend AJ kindly took me and my boys out so they could experience bringing their momma to dinner at a nice restaurant.  I thought nothing of the pictures so up they went.

My excitement over this new relationship immediately died when I realized I was being ghosted.  I received no explanation, no questions asked.  He just vanished.

I'm used to this behavior.  It's not the first time I have been completely ignored by a potential love interest.  But this was not like other romances.  He loves Jesus.  Surely this is not how men who love Jesus respond to challenges.  Surely they have more staying power.  Surely they don't say things they don't mean.  Surely they are more respectful, kinder, more thoughtful, more understanding, more direct.....more importantly, surely they are more forgiving....

But the silence continued.  My family and friends were disappointed.  At my request, they prayed for a reconciliation.  We were completely ridiculous in our drama.  I heard the usual, "at least you found out now how he handles conflict" and "obviously he wasn't the guy we thought he was" and "God has something better for you" and "if he really likes you this won't deter him."  But none of that helped.  I was devastated.  I made a fool of myself by extending multiple apologies.  I called.  I texted.  I messaged.  I voice texted.  And I got nothing, Jesus.

As my spirits dropped lower and lower, my anxiety went higher and higher.  Since I am in this stage of changing how I handle anxiety,  the usual coping skills no longer worked.  I was having to deal with this raw emotion with bare knuckles and lots of Jesus.  And lots. and lots. and LOTS of tears.

I was with my friend yesterday when the realization that I was truly alone hit me.  Her son goes to a school 30 minutes from her house, so I volunteered to go pick him up while my boys stayed and played at her house.  I needed time alone.

Driving has always been a safe place for me.  My cars are home to me...almost more than my actual home.  It's when I'm behind the wheel that my thoughts form emotions.  There is something about me and the road and the music and the isolation from people while being surrounded by people that triggers my feelings.  It's a perfect picture of life...being an individual in a world filled with people.  True to form, the tears fell and I cried.  As beautiful Carrie Underwood says, there is no such thing as a pretty cry.  So homegirl UGLY cried.

I cried about my future.  I cried about my past.  I cried about my present.  I cried about how my stupid actions cause terrible results.  I cried about being single and alone.  I cried about my boys home-hopping.  I cried for them.  I cried about the many times my heart has been broken.  I cried because I hate Facebook.  I cried about my business.  I cried about my lack of direction.  I cried about my parents living in another state.  I cried about my siblings living in another state.  I cried because I had let someone in.  I cried because I was a fool.  I cried because I am a hot mess.  I cried because Jesus loves me despite my hot mess.  I cried for all the people in the world that can't shed a tear to save their life.  You're welcome.

By the time I picked up my friend's son, the tears were all done.  Thank goodness.  I didn't want to frighten the poor fella.  He napped while I recovered.  I came back to my friend's house a little spent but a lot lighter.  I needed that ugly cry.

Crying is one of our most vulnerable states.  We are very careful with who sees us cry, when we cry, how we cry.    Dealing with buried emotion is usually not pretty.  If we cry in front of an inappropriate someone at an inappropriate time, we are totally humiliated.  It's a deeply embarrassing event.  But tears don't have any regard for opportune moments.  They fall when they are good and ready.  They fall so you don't drown. (Thank you to Jeana & Cain, for this analogy.)

Every tear represents an emotion...a longing...an unfulfilled expectation...a disappointment....sometimes joy...and it's sometimes only through tears that we are able to sift through buried emotion.   Good or bad, tears bring us to a standoff with our hearts.

I started painting when I was in college.   I picked up a brush because my boyfriend at the time was an artist and told me I should paint my poems.  (Being the angst-ridden twenty something, I wrote a lot of poetry.)  The result was a painting of a crying sky over my favorite verse at the time.

"Watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life."  Proverbs 4:23

I've neglected to do this since my divorce.  I've been careless with my heart.  I've let unworthy men trample it.  I've let unkind words prick it.  I've let alcohol numb it.  I've let malicious actions stab it.  I've given it scraps instead of sustenance.  I've forced it to live off of processed food and sugar instead of nutritious, whole foods.  It's been beating, but barely.

My 20something self who painted that amateur painting would be sorely disappointed in this 40something woman.

My ugly crying is far from over, but the tentative life that springs from this wounded heart will take another stab at living....tentatively.  With or without a seemingly great guy.  With or without my family.  With or without a successful business.  But with a lot less of the Facebook activity that killed my love life.

https://youtu.be/KUUjtUP2CrE

If Cars Could Speak

My chain is getting shorter and my life just a little fuller.  I've made a little path in my soul for goodness and the tap may have just been turned on full blast.  It's an interesting development.  It's as though I was just waiting for something to catapult me ahead.  That catapult came in the form of an old friend who has since exited the stage, but the result of our short interaction was me removing my head from my rear.  I've been smelling crap for too long.

The amazing thing about God is that He wants only good things for us.  And He is happy to bestow them upon us if we are willing recipients.  And He keeps attempting to give them to us despite our stupid behaviors and ignorance.  He is incredibly persistent.  I love this about Him.  I tried many different avenues besides His goodness since my husband departed.  Sex, drugs, rock and roll were all tested.  And not shockingly all failed.  I was clamoring for something that would not be reachable until I just gave it up and plopped myself down before His feet.  Jesus' feet, that is. (I hope they have been washed.  I'm not a fan of stinky feet.)

I was fearful of being the same girl from long ago that believed people were good.  I was afraid of being judgmental (side note: I always have to use autocorrect for that word and I'm a great speller usually).  I was afraid of speaking in Christian ease...unknown to those who don't know Jesus.  Like REALLY know Him.  I was afraid of being set apart and placed into the category of Christians because we don't have a great reputation.  I was afraid of being the good church goer.  So I fought it.  Hard.  And long.  Like my temperament.  I have to try everything 100% before I realize it's not for me.  And surprise, surprise...my life is complete only when I'm wrapped in Jesus.

This is not a really difficult concept to grasp.  We are who we are supposed to be only when we acknowledge our maker in all things.  He is the fullness of who we are.  He wants good things for us and knows that anything He is not in will not fulfill us.  He knows that we won't find goodness in subpar living.  He knows that sex, drugs and rock and roll will only dull our senses and slowly suck the life out of us.  (I love me some Led Zeppelin so that is possibly the exception.)  He knows that we won't have mental clarity without Him.  So He steers us towards Himself. 

We are typically too ignorant to listen.  This girl is tired of being ignorant.

I have been praying without ceasing for a certain outcome in a confusing situation.  I'm not sure that will change the reality.  But I pray anyways.  I trust that God has got it.  And my heart will carry on as it should if my prayers aren't answered.  Prayer changes me...it brings me closer to the one I love...so pray I will.

I went driving yesterday to listen to my new favorite song over and over.  There is nothing more satisfying to my soul than driving with the top open, windows down, loud music playing.  It's just me, God, the wind and the open road.  There are cars around unfortunately, but they are insignificant to me in this space.  Not that I'm driving with disregard to the tons of steel around me, but you get my point.  It's in this place that my heart is completely open and vulnerable.  It's where God and I have had the most profound discussions.  It's where my anger and frustrations manifest.  It's the place where I speak my fears and my tears.  If my cars could speak, they would know all my secrets and all my desires.  They would be able to tell on me.  I'm thankful for their silence for if my secrets were out I would have to move to a remote land in a cabin without the internet.  OK, maybe Netflix.  And it would definitely have a porch swing.

My construction paper chain is the only chain this girl is interested in.

You Know Me

https://youtu.be/cVVlMQved8k

You have been and You will be

You have seen and You will see

You know when I rise and when I fall

When I come or go You see it all

You hung the stars and you move the sea

And still You know me

Whoa oh oh oh oh oh oh

oh oh oh You know me [repeat]

Nothing is hidden from Your sight

Wherever I go, You find me

You know every detail of my life

You are God and You don't miss a thing

You memorize me

Jesus, Chains, and Change

At the suggestion of my amazing friend, I've made a chain for 30 days to change a certain habit.  Everyday when I wake up, I take one link off because I made it through the previous day without doing my typical behavior.  It isn't anything grandiose like to quit smoking or drinking ... it's just a small behavior that has kept me from feeling pain.  In and of itself it's not bad.  It's why I do it that's bad.

It's been a curious exercise with my brain.  When I feel myself getting anxious or upset and wanting to do the thing, I have to close my eyes, breathe deeply, and repeat the word, "gratitude" over and over again.  It refocuses me enough to put my brain back on track.  I have a few seconds of wanting to revert to what my brain knows, but I marinate in the pain for a few minutes and I emerge a bit better.  Then I'm able to enjoy the moment.  Even despite the possible tears.

I have been taking long rides with my dog in the back, all windows/sunroof open, and music blaring.  Mostly overtly Jesus music.  And me and Jesus talk.  Sometimes I cry.  But mostly I just sing and enjoy the moment.  I've been through pain.  And God was always there.  But I only let Him be on the sidelines, occasionally waving to Him, but mostly playing the game without His input.  In the past I have had to work 10 Xs harder to change.  If I had included the God of the Universe, it would have been a much smoother transition.  I wouldn't be fighting His goodness...I'd be living inside it.  This time it felt too big to carry on my own.  I knew I couldn't really change without Him being an active and living part of everything I do.  I just couldn't carry it alone.  I have to let myself be held in every aspect of my life so I end up being a cocoon of Jesus.  Surrounded completely and totally in His love and truth.  Even the tiniest crack would send me back into that place of despair and "stuck-ness."

Practially, this translates to...I can't watch what I used to watch on Netflix.  I can't listen to all my music..some is simply off limits because I can feel it sucking the soul out of me.  I can't eat the junk or drink alcohol to excess and some of my previous friends have had to go.  I just simply can't afford the unnecessary baggage.

This clarity and reflection has given me an incredible amount of time.  I rearranged my living room (and woke up this morning totally confused because it was so different...me and Sadie stared confusedly at one another for a few minutes).  I've almost mastered a Chopin piece, I've read, I'm researching possible branches of my business, writing, working out more.  I'm a freakin' efficient, productive machine.

I have been saying, "I hate my life" in my head lately.  And out loud.  So God hears and I hear it on my tongue.  And we both pause and chuckle a little because we know it's not true.  But it feels true in the moment I say it.  I used to let that feeling control me ... I used to let it continue in its lie and I would end up feeling unworthy of anything good.  I've allowed myself to feel like a failure for so long, my brain is trained to go there.  I would look at other people and think that they deserved good things more than I did.

But the truth is, we are all bankrupt and deprived.  We don't deserve anything good.  The only reason we have good things is because God is good.

My pushy, wonderful friend told me last when I texted her that I felt incredibly sad to make a list of all the good in my life.  So.......the interaction I had with Graham's teacher, that my baby is alive to begin with, when my oldest hugs me because I've been crying, when he talks to me at night after we pray, when he sings while hanging his head out the window, when Graham helps me cook, when we all dance in the kitchen, when my boys sing Jesus loves Me, when I pick them up from school, when I drop them off at school and feel the intensity of my love for them, all things about my boys in general, when I do my single mom's devotion, when my family & friends let me talk about the same stupid topic over and over again, when my parents FaceTime me, when my clients text me that I did a great job, when I listen to Nichole Nordeman, when I listen to Marren Morris...(this is a very long list of music that makes me happy), when I take my Plexus and ItWorks supplements, when I use my Mrs. Meyers hand soap and laundry detergent cuz it smells so good, when I talk to a homeless guy on the corner, when I wave at my grumpy neighbor, when I clean a really dirty house knowing I have just made someone's life a little better, when I watch the sun rise and set, when I put on my Game of Thrones robe in the morning, when I water my plants, when I go to bed at night and don't want to turn my ringer off just in case I get a text from someone, when I hear a love song and it makes me cry, when I swing on the ridiculously long swing my dad hung in my backyard, when I shop on Amazon, when I drink a glass of wine with a good friend, when I eat a Vegan lunch with my Vegan friend, when I wake up in an empty house with my dog wagging her tail, when I run on the levy with my dog, when I write in the wee hours of the morning with a candle that smells yum (that is also Mrs. Meyers), when I read funny Memes, when my fingers run over the keys of the piano, when I do floor exercises and squats and pull ups, when I clean my house, when a friend texts to check on me, when I listen to a Podcast while scrubbing away, when I chat with my gamer friends, when I beat my family in Word Chums, when my boys are happy, when I imagine a man I love and who loves me snuggling with me when I go to sleep, when I drive my car that I freakin' love with the windows down singing at the top of my lungs like a lunatic, when I put on my favorite pair of yoga pants, when I pay bills knowing I only have money because He gave me the ability to make money, when I FaceTime my boys while they're at their dad's which alleviates my longing for them a little, when I diffuse oils, when I take hot baths, when I Marco Polo with people who love me, when I pray for my friends and family, when I go to Whole Foods, when I take that first sip of my French pressed coffee,  ... the list is endless.  He has knit me in behind and before.  There is no room for doubt anymore.  I won't be able to be the change I want to see in the world without Him.

I was talking to a friend who is going through a really hard time.  She feels lost and scared.  And all I could say to her was I knew God was good ... other than that, I don't know crap.  (Though I said a lot more crap. Firm eye roll for my excessive need to say too much.)

I heard in a podcast recently that if we want to change our life, it will be at the cost of our old one.

Pause for dramatic effect.

So while my chain gets shorter and shorter, my life will get fuller.  And I will be a happy girl who has finally found peace as a single mom.

https://youtu.be/djrY_eFDOwE

You're a Good, Good Father

I've heard a thousand stories of what they think you're like

But I've heard the tender whispers of love in the dead of night

And you tell me that you're pleased

And that I'm never alone

You're a good good father

It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are

And I'm loved by you

It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am

I've seen many searching for answers far and wide

But I know we're all searching

For answers only you provide

'Cause you know just what we need

Before we say a word

You're a good good father

It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are

And I'm loved by you

It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am

Because you are perfect in all of your ways

You are perfect in all of your ways

You are perfect in all of your ways to us

You are perfect in all of your ways

You are perfect in all of your ways

You are perfect in all of your ways to us

Oh, it's love so undeniable

I, I can hardly speak

Peace so unexplainable

I, I can hardly think

As you call me deeper still

As you call me deeper still

As you call me deeper still

Into love, love, love

You're a good good father

It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are

And I'm loved by you

It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am

You're a good good father

It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are

And I'm loved by you

It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am

You're a good good father

It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are

And I'm loved by you

It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am

You're a good good father

You are perfect in all of your ways

It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are

And I'm loved by you

You are perfect in all of your ways

It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am

Me & Sheila

We sat in the arctic like waiting room with a multitude of others...all races, ages, genders represented and all as cold as I.  He was sitting across the room, ignoring my presence as is typical.  The father of my children.  The man I once vowed to love and cherish in sickness and in health.  It was an endless and cold wait.

Being my typical forthcoming and direct self, I made my way over to him so we could pass the time and talk about our children.  I hadn't brought anything aside from my case file, so the boredom and cold was eating at me.  I also wanted him to understand what had happened from my perspective to bring us to this place.  The conversation was needed, but didn't give me the peace I was hoping for.

Peace with an ex husband perhaps is not attainable.

 This conversion of all things legal in relation to our boys began a chain of thought that ended with the realization that I had successfully survived the stages of grief.

Two years later and I am finally healing.

My friend and I were discussing the nuances of relationships.  She is having a difficult time with her boyfriend, and contemplating the decision to leave.  This is not a foreign topic to us.  We discuss all things relational often.  But I heard myself tell her something that usually is not a part of my typical responses: "It's not the easy times that make you grow...you grow and change because of the difficult times.  So maybe this is just simply to make you stronger as a couple if you love each other through this."

(Pause while I have a conversation with my dog who apparently needs to potty for the fifth time in the last five minutes.  I believe she is just bored and wants to play outside.)

I had this thought last night about my stainless steel cleaner, Sheila Shine.  I set an alarm on my phone with the label, "Sheila Shine" so I wouldn't forget to process the thought.  Sheila Shine is the best stainless product I've ever used and can never get the stainless appliances to look anywhere close to the way it looks when I use this product.  When I clean the stainless without it, it ends up looking streaky and dull.  Every imperfection is noticeable.  Every mar on the stainless begs attention.  It is a subpar substitution for the good stuff.

Relationships without love and forgiveness are like stainless steel appliances without Sheila.  They end up dull and streaky, noticeably marred and imperfect.  They have lost their shine.

Every relationship I've had ended because we did not have the tools necessary to overcome difficulties.  The answer has always been to disconnect and terminate.  Perhaps that was the best solution.  That was most likely the only tool we had.

But I am confident of this: relationships without love and forgiveness will either end or be lackluster.  Like my stainless without Sheila.  And I am confident of my desire to never be in a lackluster relationship again.

For the past few months my heart has been restless.  I continued to live as I have before...like the broken girl who avoids pain at all cost.  But the things that used to give me relief instead started causing more pain.  I saw a trend in small changes.  My passion for playing the piano was renewed, the men who used to entertain me and pass the time no longer appealed to me.  The work I used to enjoy became mundane.  Alcohol started to become suspiciously unsatisfying.  The endless Netflix shows became noise in the background.  My non-attendance at church became suspect instead of purposeful.  I was just restless.

(Suspicions about dog confirmed.  It was play she was looking for.  Not a potty break.)

God has intentionally drawn me to Himself.  I never lost Him.  I was never without prayer.  But I was without His fullness.  I was lackluster.

The main focus of my life is finally to live in abundance.  To live an intentional life.  Instead of existing in survival mode, I am now able to live a calculated life with purpose.  And that life includes living and breathing the Creator who has carried me through every disappointment, every heartbreak, every obstacle in my life that could have destroyed me.  The girl of two years ago that was staring at the seven stages of grief with despair and hopelessness is unrecognizable to who I am now.

And in order to survive future heartbreak and obstacles, I have to hone the skills needed for love and forgiveness.  Sheila and I have some intentional living to do.

Rolling River God

River God

Little Stones are smooth

Only once the water passes through

So I am a stone

Rough and grainy still

Trying to reconcile this river's chill

But when I close my eyes

And feel you rushing by

I know that time brings change

And change takes time

And when the sunset comes

My prayer would be this one

That you might pick me up 

And notice that I am

Just a little smoother in your hand

Sometimes raging wild

Sometimes swollen high

Never have I known this river dry

The deepest part of you

Is where I want to stay

And feel the sharpest edges wash away

And when I close my eyes

And feel you rushing by

I know that time brings change

And change takes time

And when the sunset comes

My prayer would be just this one

That you might pick me up 

And notice that I am

Just a little smoother in your hand

Couch Crying

Psalm 84:3

Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself where she may have her young.  A place near your alter.

The song, "Gratitude" by Nichole Nordeman reminds me of how much I have to be thankful for.  I have two beautiful boys, an amazing family, equally amazing friends, a business I love, and enough money to provide.  With or without a partner, my life is full.

But as the song ends with a plea for God to provide what is lacking/wanted, I find that my soul is often in that same state of yearning.  I knew how to be a wife...I was good at it.  Being a single mom, however...a bit tricky.  One of my sweet friends texted me yesterday and said that she was thinking of me...as Jesus encourages us to take care of the widows she believes taking care of single moms is also equally important.  Her thoughtfulness combined with an unwelcome text from an ex, and seeming rejection from yet another man triggered a day full of tears and heaviness that I've not allowed myself to feel for a while.  My Apple Watch reminded me multiple times throughout the day to breathe because my heart rate was elevated.  (Big brother was also affected by my tears.)  I could not stop crying to save my life.  

My boys don't see me cry very often.  I generally don't cry.  I'm in survival mode most of the time, so the tears are held at bay so I can function successfully.  And seeing them respond to my tears is enough to continue this lack of tears.  They did not like that I was upset and stayed close to me all day..randomly giving me hugs.  We laid in bed and watched an afternoon movie.   I ended up at my friend's house, though I told her I wasn't fit to be around people, crying on her couch while our kids played.  She's the kind of friend that is not afraid of tears and loves me however I am...blubbering or laughing.  My boys slept in my bed.  I needed them close to me.

In my ingratitude, I yelled at God while I was driving to get my boys.  My windows and sunroof were down and I got some curious looks.  I was that girl in the car who drivers stay away from because she is a seeming crazy person.  I did not care.  In fact, the stares were a welcome reminder that I do, in fact, exist.

On one hand, I am enraged at the injustice of my life...but the other more prominent voice is that I don't deserve good things and I will be more content if I just accept that.

I suppose some of this upset is because I go to court this morning to resolve custody issues.  My parents aren't here to go with me, so I'm bringing the same crying-on-the-couch friend.  She said she will hold my knees when they start shaking.  Hopefully, she is bringing some tissues also.

This is going to be the kind of week that will demand growth and change.  My boys will be gone which will provide forced introspection.  I can't allow myself to stay stuck in a place of ingratitude and yearning.  It will erode what is left of my heart.  I have no choice but to push beyond the pain to find peace.  The kind of peace that can only be imparted by the One who made me.  Even if that means I end up crying on my friend's couch for seven days straight.

"Gratitude"

Send some rain, would You send some rain?

'Cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again

And the sun is high and we are sinking in the shade

Would You send a cloud, thunder long and loud?

Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down

Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid

But maybe not, not today

Maybe You'll provide in other ways

And if that's the case... 

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude

For lessons learned in how to thirst for You

How to bless the very sun that warms our face

If You never send us rain

Daily bread, give us daily bread

Bless our bodies, keep our children fed

Fill our cups, then fill them up again tonight

Wrap us up and warm us through

Tucked away beneath our sturdy roofs

Let us slumber safe from danger's view this time

Or maybe not, not today

Maybe You'll provide in other ways

And if that's the case...

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude

A lesson learned to hunger after You

That a starry sky offers a better view

If no roof is overhead

And if we never taste that bread

Oh, the differences that often are between

Everything we want and what we really need

So grant us peace, Jesus, grant us peace

Move our hearts to hear a single beat

Between alibis and enemies tonight

Or maybe not, not today

Peace might be another world away

And if that's the case... 

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude

For lessons learned in how to trust in You

That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream

In abundance or in need

And if You never grant us peace...

But, Jesus, would You please...

Beautiful History. Stubborn Roots.

I was driving through north Louisiana with my parents and got a random message from someone I knew a long time ago.  Someone that knew me before my divorces...before my kids...before my attitude became pessimistic and apathetic.  His view of me was that I had the personality able to change lives...that I lit up a room...  His opinion of me sounded foreign and perhaps uninformed because the girl who wears her clothes now is a far cry from the girl in his memory.

Before my trip, I asked a dear friend if I was good dating material.  I respect him and knew I shouldn't ask the question if I didn't want the truth.  His response was (something alone these lines), "Well, you're a conservative Baptist on one hand and a party girl on the other.  It's a hard sell."

I'm typically attracted to men that are unlike my father.  They aren't church goers.  They are blue collar workers.  They are the men of country songs.  They viewed my Southern Baptist family who sings before we eat, reads the Bible around the table, and quotes scripture together as odd and somewhat comical.

I have often thought that I was not good enough for someone like my dad.  Not that blue collared workers are less than professional men...this is far from the truth.  But they are not labeled socially as "intellectuals", and this is the difference in my head.  I had this idea of what I deserved and someone seemingly smarter than me was always terrifying.  It accentuated every negative thought I had about myself.  I aimed towards those I could out-debate...out-manipulate...out-think.  Not that this was the reality, but it was one I was comfortable with.  The illusion was comfortable.

This is perhaps why I have not been successful in relationships.  In an attempt to eradicate my past, I have instead heightened its importance.

For perhaps I am who my family is.  Perhaps I am still the girl in her twenties who led a ministry, who wrote devotionals, who led Bible studies.  Who is at her core attracted to men similar to her father.

Perhaps it's time my path takes me back to my roots.  Despite the hard work I have put into removing them, they have stubbornly dug themselves in deeper.

This girl may just be tired of fighting her beautiful history.

Falling Upwards

My beautiful friend came over yesterday with her son.  I had had a very trying day.  I was feeling heavy because of the anniversary of Graham's near fatal drowning, I had cleaned about 25 toilets, 7 showers, and four kitchens that day.  I got pulled over on the way home because my son threw a water bottle out the window.  I came home to a dirty house with piles of laundry and dishes in the sink.  I hadn't gone to the grocery store in over a week so we had little food.  My mind was in turmoil over the many bills I have to pay and small amount of money I have to pay them.  I quickly vacuumed in preparation for her visit, and thought while I vacuumed how incredibly difficult it was to keep up with everything.  Every piece of paper in my boys' folder required a different action from me.  Field trip forms and money...homework...studying...book fair reminders...festival t-shirts...dress down day...water bottles...snacks....signing test papers...reading to my sons....it was just too much and I felt like a total failure.  I thought about other moms who brought cupcakes to school and whose kid was always prepared and dressed accordingly.  I was beyond exhausted...way past being stressed.  I needed a friend who understood and God knew this before my day had even happened when He prompted her to text me.

I vented to her my frustrations and fears.  I told her how I had come home the night before to my house with the door wide open and two little boys who were crying for fear that we had been broken into.  I told her how desperate and scared I felt in that moment with being single.  I shared my heart and she listened and got in the pit with me to console me.

She did not judge.  She empathized and listened and loved me.  And I immediately felt a weight lifted because I knew I wasn't alone.

I watched the movie Tully at her suggestion.  It's about a mom who's totally exhausted and has lost herself.  Her husband has not experienced this...men rarely do... all he is able to see is that his once vibrant wife is gone and has been replaced with a zombie covered in stickers and throw up who has bruises on her feet from constantly stepping on leggos.

I get her.

In my moment of frustration and fear yesterday, I had the thought that I was thankful my boys weren't with me for a week at a time.  As much as I miss them, I need help.  And their dad alleviates my stress when they stay with him.  I am finally able to see the benefit, besides my boys bonding with their father, of them being gone.

Being a single parent is incredibly difficult...if not sometimes damn near impossible.  I applaud women who do this without help.  I can't imagine how lost and scared and helpless they feel.

Yet somehow, we rise and overcome.  Somehow, our failures become our falling upwards moments.  We do things we never thought we could.  We surprise ourselves with our abilities and our determination to keep it together so our kids can thrive and be happy.  We have no other choice if we want the best for our kids but to survive...and do it well.

I'm so thankful that it's a new day.  I'm so thankful that I have another opportunity to get it right...to choose words of kindness over criticism when my boys make a mess or disobey.  I get another chance to dance with them while making dinner.  I get another stab at choosing joy over misery.

All because it's a new day. 

And this single momma is a survivor.

I'll Get Over It ... Maybe

It's Monday morning...the dreadful, hated Monday when I drop my boys off and won't have them in their beds for a week.

These are the Mondays when I clean all the linens, I clean up the remainder of their messes, and shut their door tightly.  All week long it will be an act of attempting to avoid their room at all costs.

I REALLY hate these Mondays.

At least now the tears stay at bay.  They used to fall freely during these weeks.

I had someone tell me that I was not all that great of a catch.  I was renting at 41, didn't have health insurance, and my parents had to help me with a car.  His message didn't have the desired effect.  I read it and chuckled sinisterly because I knew he didn't get it.

The repercussions of divorce go much further than the emotional pain.  It creeps into every area of your life...known and unknown...expected and unexpected.  I didn't expect it to affect my ability to get health insurance.  I didn't expect it to affect how much I pay in taxes.  I didn't expect it to affect my ability to be a boss.  I didn't expect it to turn me into a sinister, bitter woman.  I didn't expect it to change my desire to own a house.  I didn't expect it to separate me from married people or those who had never been married.  I didn't expect it to make me sympathetic towards government programs.   I didn't expect it to confuse the issue of religion.

And I certainly didn't expect to be writing about it almost daily for two years.

I keep telling myself that I'll get over it.  I'll get over missing my kids like crazy.  I'll get over having the weight of the world on my chest and feeling all alone in carrying it.  I'll get over the financial struggles, the dating chaos, the bitterness, the questioning my decision, the wanting him back feeling, the worry for my kids.

I'll get over it.

Right???  Time heals all wounds.  So they say.  I wonder if whoever said this was a divorced, single mom.

Pass the Pills, Please

Hi, my name is Rebekah and I'm a podcast addict.

I spend my days in yoga pants, earphones, running shoes, and covered in sweat.  Cleaning products are sometimes my only companions.  I have keys to most of my clients' houses so I don't interact with people frequently while I work.

So, podcasts it is.

I have become a listener of many different true crime podcasts.  They are eerie because they delve into the person's personality, their lives, their relationships, their mental state overall, and their mental state at the time of the crime.

Criminals are not very different from non-criminals.

I have lived a good portion of my life attempting to be free of medications.  I have been on a variety of different anti-depressants, anti-anxieties, and mood stabilizers.  I have a multitude of diagnosis (no idea what the plural of that is)....Anxiety disorder, PTSD, Bipolar II (not to be confused with the more severe Bipolar I), and ADHD.  I sought comfort in a psychiatrists' office at many different stages of my life.  I was in an abusive relationship and received the Bipolar diagnosis.  I held my son when he was dead and received the PTSD diagnosis.  I lived with an unstable alcoholic and received the Anxiety disorder diagnosis.  I was a single mom running a business with a million balls in the air and received the ADHD diagnosis.

Every time I attempted to live a life free of medication, it ended in failure.  I've had moments of cutting, wailing, pinching myself to alleviate the intense emotion, sleeping just to end the pain, medicating myself with alcohol and men.

The last time I stopped taking medication I was recently divorced and scared myself so badly I left a note before I went to sleep one night explaining that I had taken a bunch of random medications...that I loved my boys and I didn't mean to kill myself.

Firm sigh.

God made me with a deficit in my brain...I need medication to function.

I am very perturbed at the general attitude towards medications that are prescribed for mental health.

I have lived without them and I was miserable.  My kids were miserable.  My family was worried.

I watch many people I love struggle daily.  I'm not saying they all need to be medicated.  Because for some, it's a simple adjustment to our daily lives that our brains need.  Or more sleep.  Or better food.  Or more exercise.  For others like myself, we need the artillery to be balanced.  The truth is, our brain can only tolerate so much stress before we start to deteriorate.  And we live in a time where our brains are not given much nutrition. 

We are overworked, under slept, over-stressed.  We eat food that is lacking in nutrients.  Even the soil we grow our produce in is depleted and stressed out.  We are never still.  We look for other things that are just as weak and empty as us except Jesus to provide us with strength.  We take quick showers instead of long baths.  We brush our teeth furiously.  We are always on some form of technology.  We are bombarded with information and negativity. We live in small houses with our neighbors on top of us.  We can't see the stars.  Our kids have more homework than they should.  Life is extremely expensive.  We have multiple jobs to make ends meet.  We don't live in a calm environment with wide, open spaces that would give our brains time to heal and process.  We live in chaos.

Yet we expect that we should function as normally and peacefully as if we lived in the middle of nowhere, on a hill, surrounded by stars at night and beautiful sunrises in the morning, with no worries except what's eating our tomatoes in the garden and if we can all fit in the RV for our Thanksgiving trip (like my parents...insert jealousy) with little effort.

And we wonder why there are so many criminals.

I identify with most of the people that commit heinous crimes in my podcasts because they are usually in-the-heat-of-the-moment criminals.  They make one split decision based on the anarchy taking place in their brains and are forever doomed. (Now the sociopaths...God help them...totally different brains.)

If you don't identify with this, then you are one of the few who have a pristine brain...or are in total denial.  It's most likely the latter.

If the alternative to living a healthy, stable life is chaos and misery resulting in being the subject of a true crime podcast, then pass the pills, please.

Intense Pain...Incredible Joy

I was reading back through old blogs and was perturbed at myself.  How many blogs on single mom dating can one person write?  I mulled over this question for days.  Why did that seem to be the running theme in my life?  Surely I have other, more interesting things to write about?

And then a picture of Graham in the hospital flashed into my head.  I relived the whole incident...from start to finish and was left with a shortness of breath and a renewed anxiety.

I write about trivial things because the real stuff makes me panic.

Being a parent is unlike any other love or responsibility.  My heart will never stop sinking when I watch them walk into school on their own.  My worry for them will never cease.  The relief I feel when I finally have them back under my roof is persistent in its presence.

Living without them for a week at a time is like hanging my most important self up in my very large walk in closet/office and going in public as a sliver of a person. 

Nothing compares to motherhood.

I write about my dating adventures because it's comic relief.   My worry over my kids subsides for a short time as my fingers strike the keys.  I am lost in a world of humor and irrelevance, where the star of the show is this sliver of myself without my kids.  The fun, light, silly Rebekah.

It's a safe topic.

But what makes me who I am is the hard stuff.  The painful stuff. ...what my values are...who I value.  It has created not only intense pain but also incredible joy.  It's the guts of who I am.

Asking me to date without my kids is like asking a biker gang to go without leather.  It's just wrong.

I am doomed to write frivolous blogs 50% of the time...when my boys aren't tucked in their beds at my house as they should be.

The other 50% of the time is reserved for my anxiety over my boys....along with my intense pain...and incredible joy...as they snooze in their beds at momma's house.