Under Construction

The roads near my house are under construction. No kidding, no matter which way I go to head into town, I hit road construction, one lane, delays, big equipment, road closed. I can't even leave my neighborhood using my own street this week. I have to go around the block the wrong direction. But, I forget. And I go the way I always go, and I have to turn around at the "road closed" sign, feeling like an idiot.
My life is much like that right now. It seems like much of it is under construction. It's a waiting to be finished time. I can see how good it's going to be when it's all done, but just like the road work, there are a lot of inconveniences.
Things like depression. Not clinical. Just the blues. Wanting to find that perfect job. Wanting to contribute. Wanting to feel like I am being productive.
And my health. I keep praying for better, but it's in a holding pattern. So, I wait on that too.
And Joe went to college. And some days, I still look around for him. And cry when I realize how foolish that is.:) Very happy for him, just another place that is under construction.
And finances. Gosh, closing a business isn't cheap. Nor college. Nor nose surgery when your nose gets broken. It all adds up fast. And, see above, I am unemployed.:)
And friends. I am not doing that so well. Don't get me wrong, my friends would never tell you that. I have the good sense to pick really nice friends. But I am just not as strong as I need to be sometimes. Things have been rocky in some way for almost every friend I have. From kid troubles, marriage troubles, work lay offs, moving.......you name it, we've done it in the last year.
This is not complaining. I am trying to lay out for you very clearly what road blocks might look like in real life. They are sometimes big and sometimes small, but they always require a change. Whether it's taking a different route or simply slowing down, that is the question. But the thing is this: when something is under construction, it is changing. And you have to change and adapt or you get in a bad place. For instance, the other night I left my neighborhood and turned into the far lane. As I travelled, I realized that someone had missed the "real" lane and had driven in the center where the lane used to be....they hit a curb.....airbag....flat tires.....all because they missed the lane.
I do that in life. I get in my rut. I like the same old same old. I want things to be predictable. I like surprises, but not the kind that make me..........gasp..........have to CHANGE!!But when the roads are under construction, I am forced to change my routines. And with my life under construction, I have to do the same. And it's good news. See, I write more now. I should always write, it's who I am. But I had gotten into a different routine and failed to do what helps me most. And I have to figure out new ways to relate and interact. I have to grow. And stretch. And learn. And it's a pain. Just like waiting in the road construction. I hate to wait for the guy to turn the sign.......and it goes from stop to slow. Sigh. I want to GO. I want things to be like the interstate.
But life doesn't work that way. Life is full of things that need work and effort. And yes, change. And some things never change: like people who love me, and a God who loves me, and the fact that life is always worth living. But I must change if I'm going to remain on the road. I must slow down at times and pay attention to where the road is going. I need to see if it's the right way and if it's not, I need to take a turn. I need to make decisions. And then do something about them.
I have to say, I am awesomely blessed in people who care for me. I never walk alone. Oh, sometimes it feels like it. I have to have a pity party now and then. Complete with junk food and balloons. But most of the time, though I have not performed nor deserved, I am surrounded by people who, even in my darkest moments, love me.
Life is full of construction. Get friendly with the workers. Wave and embrace the time to slow down. It beats flipping the finger and speeding off into unknown disaster. So it is in living.
blessings,
rhonda

Damaged

Today I was thinking how easily we are damaged in life. I have been damaged. Pains. Betrayals. Unkindnesses. Dashed hopes. Failed plans. Mean people. Bad hair days. Fat days. Fighting. Failing. Stumbling. Misunderstandings. Mistakes. Mistrust. So many actions and inactions that cause us to doubt, retreat, hurt and sometimes give up.
And I was then wondering, "when will I be better?" "When will the damage be repaired?" And it struck me. It won't. Ever. The damage is there as permanently as the dent in our van. Once struck, it has never gone away. But the van still runs. Still takes us faithfully from place to place......for nearly 300,000 miles. To beautiful beaches on both coasts. To school. Estate sales. Work. Family reunions. Through the years that van has suffered even more dings and scratches and things that have made it less than pretty. I can't tell you how many kids have thrown up in it. Or spilled milk or juice. We repair it. Maintain it. Drive it. And it does it's job.
I'm just like that old van. I'll never be the same. I'm not supposed to be. When a friend betrays you, it damages you. But the damage doesn't have to keep you from being productive and useful. Just because a friend has completely betrayed you or a spouse has declared you invaluable or a child has rebelled or you simply can't get rid of that last 40 pounds doesn't mean that life ends. It does probably mean that you will never be the same as you were before.
But it's ok to be different. Maybe scars are really beauty marks of sorts. Painfully earned. If you learn how to walk through them. It's not easy. Listen carefully: you cannot pretend it didn't happen. You cannot ignore it. You might have to grieve. You will have to embrace whatever it is as a part of your life. A part of your story. But by learning to grieve, by living through, by continuing to do what you were created to do, your scars become beautiful. They become helpful to others walking the journey.
You know how good it feels to know that others are flawed too.:) It's true. Nobody feels good around the person who seems completely perfect. Every person in the world feels inadequate around someone who seems unscarred. Look closely; unscarred people do not exist. If it does not show, it is somewhere deeper. The thing about life is that it hurts. I am not a pessimist. Actually, I'm pretty optimistic. But the one thing I have absolutely learned and observed is that every person hurts. Gets hurt. Struggles. Is disappointed. Is betrayed. So when it comes to you, what are you going to do with it?
Make it work for you. Let it just become a part of your story. Keep being who you are supposed to be. If you have to step back from some things for a time, just admit it. If you feel weaker or vulnerable, own that too. Yep, I'm damaged. I bet you are too.
I'm gonna be like my old, reliable van. It might not be so pretty, but it is useful and has brought lots of joy to many people. And sometimes it embarrasses me that it's so ugly. So dated. But so what? Why do we worry so much how things look? Like our lives. Are you going to remain useful and joyful or are you going to worry about how to look good in front of everybody and stuff all of your scars deep away where nobody can ever see them? Let me tell you, they won't see your scars but they will see the results. And the results without the story are bad. They don't help anyone else. They don't bring joy. And they aren't pretty.
So, if you see me limping a bit or looking a little battle worn, it's true. But it's ok. It's just a part of my story.
blessings,
rhonda

Education and Growing Up

I have a scary hope for my kids. I hope that they graduate from high school and do well enough to go on to college or a trade school. I hope that they have dreams and pursue them. I hope that they take those college years to learn who they are and what kind of people they want to be. I hope they invest time in learning about others. It's a scary hope because it's my dream for them. It may not be what they want nor what they do. They might drop out and become the best employee Western Disposal has. Or they might get married very young. They might get pregnant and have to be responsible for another. There are so many things that are really not in my control.
But I am allowed to hope. Even if it scares me that I'll be really disappointed if they make different life choices. What I have to figure out is how to hope for them and with them and still make them know that there is no choice that they will ever make that will make them any less mine. While I hope and dream, I need to tap into their dreams too. I need to give them the space to have their own visions.
My dreams for my kids are purposefully kind of vague. What I want for them is experiences that will grow them as people before they commit to their own family. I want them to find out how to do relationships well before they walk down the aisle. Ha. Nobody is ever really ready. Nobody will ever really know how to do marriage well until they are in that place. But still, I have the hope that they will have life experiences that will be their own. Dreams that are their own. Not mine. Not their dads. Not their spouses. Their very own.
That's a hard thing to do as a mama. Dream for them and believe in them to be the very best they can ever be.......and yet let them go and live their own dreams and be even more proud of them than if they had lived out my dream for them. Did you get all of that? I have to learn to be most proud of them finding their own dreams. Their own goals. Once they get there, my job is nearing completion. It means they are walking in a direction. Making choices.
It's important for kids to get to that point. The point where they are making plans and dreams of their own. Too many kids get caught up in someone else's dreams; parents, best friend, boyfriend, girlfriend. And while those dreams aren't necessarily bad or wrong, they are only helpful if the kid himself really wants it.
I think that my kids were created with purpose. Were created to be and do certain things that really rock their boat. I mean, they can do lots of things, but there are some things that will actually make them on fire. I want to see them each find that. And let me tell you, that's a challenge because all of our kids are as different from one another as you can possibly imagine.
My dream is that they will dream. Dream big or small or whatever. And that I will have the wherewithal to stand with them in their dream and support them. I don't mean if they are drug dealers or something illegal. But I mean respecting what is in their minds and hearts. What's the worst that can happen? They might fail. Oh well. Their failing doesn't scare me. It scares me that I need to be the kind of mom that they feel like they can tell that they failed. That they can mess up big and it can be ok.
I see a lot of kids afraid to try something big. I wonder why. I mean, "you're young, you have your whole life to figure it out." But I think I'm beginning to understand. The thing is this. No matter what kids look like on the outside. No matter how popular or how unpopular. No matter their style or lack of style. Every kid is wanting to please someone. Deep down inside every kid wants someone to think that they are de bomb. But most of them don't. Even the really good kids. It's like we adults always keep that standard just a little out of reach so that they are always just trying to tiptoe around in life trying not to fail. They spend all of their time trying to impress those teachers and coaches and parents.......needing so desperately to be affirmed. What if we affirmed who they are? Affirmed their dreams? Told them that we believe in them and their choices. Know that they will make mistakes and that's ok. This generation hides in self. They behave as if the only thing that matters is what they think and what they think is right for them. But watch more closely. Watch how they stand a little taller, smirk a little less, smile a little more........when you simply let them know that you are glad that they are.
I knwo a kid that wants to be a piercing artist. And he would be good at it. Now, I don't really like all of the piercings. They seem painful and uncomfortable. But hey, I know this: he studies and works at learning all about the body (biology/anatomy) to figure out how to be the best. He learns about math by symmetry. And art..balance. If he chooses this profession, then I want him to be the best one possible. I think he can be, too. He is amazing. But the thing is.......I don't think that he knows he's amazing. I think that adults have made him feel as if he has to fight the world instead of enjoy the world.
What if instead of imposing my dreams on the kids in my life, what if I simply learned and listened to theirs? What if I let them know that I really believe that they can learn and do most anything? What if I gave them the freedom to fail. I mean to really fall flat. And to get up and try again.......without me telling them how badly they already failed.
I do tell my kids that I want to see them fail at some goals. If you never fail, you are playing it way too safe. You aren't trying anything challenging. You are staying with the status quo.
I've been talking about kids. Now, I'm talking about you. What are you doing with your hopes and dreams? Are you too afraid to fail? Why? Do you STILL hear those voices from when you were younger? If you do, then you realize what a huge responsibility it is to be an adult in a kids' life. Give hope. Give encouragement. They will do some stupid stuff, but far and away, when given the freedom to grow, most people soar. They do great and wonderful things.
blessings,
rhonda

Relationships and Outhouses

Do any of you go hiking? Or camping? Or driving over Trail Ridge Road? Do any of you remember the outhouses that are actually dug into the ground, not metal receptacles that are moved from place to place? I remember. I remember how my daughter at age 3 waited two days to go potty. No way was she using the big black hole. And I remember vividly the wonderful outhouse up close to the top of Trail Ridge Road. We were foster parents and were taking the kids over the pass. Well, one had an emergency. And, of course, no bathrooms, no trees........young boy waiting as patiently as possible. We came around the curve and saw that outhouse and it was the most beautiful site. You know the kind, painted dark brown. One seater. The kids all tumbled out and Michael ran for the bathroom. He came out and threw up. Apparently it was full to the top. Really gross. All of the boys had to go and see. And comment. That outhouse went from blessing to curse in all of two minutes.

Relationships are a lot like outhouses. They are necessary. They are useful. They are really a blessing when you need them. And they can get all filled up with stuff that makes them not useful at all. Just like an outhouse, a relationship needs to be kept cleaned out. That means talking stuff out. Getting out the shovel and heave hoing the bad stuff that makes it stinky. It means not letting things build up.

Some people used to just move their outhouse when it got "full". Some people treat relationships that way. When one relationship gets too full of garbage,(i know it's not garbage, but I wasn't sure if I should say poop.) the person just moves on to another relationship......until it gets full and then moves again......and again.....and again.........for a lifetime. Can you imagine your property if you did that with outhouses? If they were never cleaned out. Never emptied. Just keep building another one. EW. Imagine the smell you would live with all of the time. Relationships begin to stink when they are left untended too. And though people can continually go to new relationships, all that happens is that by the end of life they have a bunch of stinky relationships instead of some good, healthy, cleaned out relationships.

I don't know anyone who wants to clean out an outhouse. But I know that there are people who do. They put on special boots and masks and have equipment to get rid of the sludge. I gag just thinking about it. I do not think I could lower my body into an outhouse. Gross. But it's nearly as hard to face bad things in a relationship. Especially if we let it go too long. The longer it goes, the more impossible the task seems. I mean, there comes a point where a shovel isn't going to help. You can't possibly lower yourself in or you will drown.

All of that said, in relationships, it's easier to take care of the stinky things one at a time. Keep it clean and fresh all of the time. It's also nicer for the people around you. It's just part of living in community to have to learn to deal with the sewage. Everyone has it. Every relationship has problems. Every human being has flaws. Putting two or more of them together means getting an abundance of difficulties. But if they are taken care of. If they are talked through. If there is respect. If there is grace. If there is love. Then, the relationship is a place that is not only useful to the people in the relationship, but to others who come across it. I mean, I really wished that someone had kept that outhouse on Trail Ridge clean. It would have been a blessing to our family. And if we keep our relationships cleaned out and talked out and loving and not hiding the stinky stuff, then we can be a blessing. If we don't, others feel like they have entered the cess pool when they are in our presence.

I don't know of anyone who wants to live like that. I think we are just fooled that the deep hole will cover everything forever. But it's not true. Things that stink don't go away just because they aren't visible. It takes work to make them go away. Relationships require work. And the work isn't just about spending quality time together......though that seems to be what all of the marriage counselors write about now. It also requires facing the hard places where you do not agree and may never agree. It requires growing on both parties parts. It requires more than just a cursory effort, it requires a lifetime of maintenance. But if you ever find anyone who will have this kind of relationship with you, then you have a friend for life. They will know your dirt and you will know theirs and it will be ok.

So, the moral is, clean the outhouse often so that it is not too overwhelming. Because there comes a time when it's impossible to get it done. There comes a time where it's just not worth it. The danger outweighs the benefit. I mean, who wants to die drowning in the doo doo?
And on that note, I'll leave it to you. Start today. With kids. With family. With friends. With people you hope will be good friends.
blessings,
rhonda

Who Am I?

Do you ever ask yourself this question? Who am I? Not "what do I do for other people?" But really, when it all comes down to it, who am I? No matter where I live or my socioeconomic status. No matter my family makeup. Who am I? At night when I'm all alone. Or when I'm in a store. Or when I am riding in my car, which goodness knows I do a lot of.
I don't just want to be perceived to be "nice." That is so wishy washy. And while I like being John's wife and the mom of Kenneth, Steph, Joe, Jake, Ike, Ish and Anna, I don't want it to be what defines me. Oh, and don't forget Gabey Baby. He's a doll. But he's a grandbaby......that's a whole other story.
I am a child of God. Loved. Redeemed. Made whole. Completely accepted. And yet still very human. Not afraid to make mistakes. I want to be a truth speaker. It is my gift, but I tend to shy away from it, especially these days, I am in a hiding to be safe mode. I want to be courageous. I think it's who I am. Take reasonable risks. Try new things. I am a rather shy person. I love being here on a computer.
And yet, I like interaction........but hate small talk. Yes, I think I'm rather complex. Most people think I'm goofy. Sometimes I am. Or obnoxious. That usually happens when I am trying to be something I am not. Which, unfortunately, seems to be often lately. I am a seeker. A grower. I like learning. I like to read a whole lot. And write. And tutoring is pretty fun too. I am a natural teacher. Too bad nobody is paying me to do so these days.:) I am a lover of realness in people. I despise meanness. Wholeheartedly. I am a protector of those I perceive need protecting.....even if they are strong. Sometimes that is not a good thing. Sometimes it annoys people.
I am a giver. I like to give gifts and other things. I like to cook for the people that come to my home. I am generally hospitable. I serve, but I am not really a servant. I choose to serve because I know how good it feels to do something for someone else. I like adventure. I am a person who needs time to reflect. No, I mean, I need it. Without it, I get grouchy. I don't like to put people in boxes, but I do like to figure out how individuals work. I love to observe people. I totally could have been a counselor except for the part where the weight of so many cares would have to go home with me, and go to my prayer life and would consume my mind. I am incredibly sensitive. I try hard not to be, but I am.
Who am I? I am a woman. I am full of contradictions. I am loyal. Truly loyal. I am trustworthy to the very best of my ability. I am a genuine lover of those I care about. I mean, wholehearted to the tips of my toes.
Well, that's about it. Oh, and why use two words when there are so many good ones to use?
blessings,
rhonda

Ridiculous Notions

Somehow I have gotten some odd ideas

Like if I clean the family room on Wednesday, I shouldn't need to on Thursday.

Or if I wipe up the kitchen after dinner, it should be looking good the next morning.

I have the strangeness to think that if I tell the kids to pick up their rooms before going out that I will walk into a clean bedroom.

Have you laughed outloud at my insanity yet?

I mean, nobody told me that dishes would live in various rooms around the house if I did not rescue them and return them to the kitchen.

Nor that furniture would be used to wipe off hands.

I never knew that bookshleves would be used to store candy wrappers and socks.

I have this strange idea that if you see trash on the floor, you should pick it up.......even if it isn't yours.

And that if coats are left in the car, they should be carried in.

I even go as far as to think that perhaps the sports equipment could actually go in the designated cupboard instead of tossed in front of it.
But strangely, I am the only one. Everyone else in my house thinks that you should take care of yourself and your own belongings. However the problem is that nobody sees that they help to create the mess. Nobody seems to know that they are the one that leaves coffee in the pot.
Or sugar coating the counters.
Apparently the jelly has been jumping out of the fridge and getting spilled down the counters all on it's own.
And the toilet. They all flush. But the toilet isn't.........how is that?
The lights should all be turned off because everyone says they turned them off when they came out to the car. But strangely, when I return home, the watts are burning.

Family life is like nothing else. We think that it's about teaching them to pick up after themselves when in reality it's simply teaching them to see what needs to be done and learning to be willing. Not an easy lesson. For any of us. But necessary.
It's part of growing up. Part of becoming less selfish. But, I don't think any of us completely "get there." The just part inside wants to hold out until someone else steps up and helps. That's why I am not cleaning the family room again.........ok, I did, but I was stunned that I needed to.
blessings,
rhonda

The Fireplace

The weather is cooling. The mornings are downright crisp. I have even had the heat on. It's the time when my mind turns to baking and just cooking in general. I'm one of those people who love to cook........for people. If I ever end up just me, I'll have to make my house a shelter or something or I might not cook at all.:) Too much trouble. And that got me to thinking.
You know, there are a lot of things I won't do just for me. I treat myself differently than I do other people. For instance, this morning, I thought how nice it would be to have a fire in the fireplace. And I thought, "when the kids get home, I'll have to build one." And then I realized that I could have one now. I could actually just enjoy it and have it because I'm here. Hmmm.....
what a concept. :) I know that you moms know what I'm talking about. I mean, our homes are so full of the life of kids and the whole family thing that sometimes we forget that we have wants and desires of our own. Not selfish stuff, just stuff that doesn't really matter. Like having a fire. So, I walked out to the nicely stacked woodpile and got wood. I admired my husband's chickens. Came back in and built a fire. I even added wood to keep it going. And I enjoyed it.
It's easy for me to have a hard time living my life with the excuse that I'm being a mom. Sometimes I have trouble just relaxing in the house. Just living and being and not feeling like I should be doing.
But I am glad that I realize it. It's good to do. And it feels good too. But remembering to turn on the music. Cook something a little special. Build a fire. Just because I want to. Because it interests me. That's important too.
So, today as I putter around my house getting the little things done, I'm also giving myself permission to do the things I want to do. Like pulling the computer out here in the kitchen so that I can write inbetween little chores.:) That's very good for me. Love it.
Hope your day finds you doing the special little things. Like calling a friend for the heck of it. Or taking a bubble bath. Or sitting in your garden. Or climbing a tree. You know, whatever strikes YOUR interest. Be who you are. Don't forget her.......she's a lovely woman.
blessings,
rhonda

Guidelines

When taking out the trash early in the morning, tie robe tightly.

When going to shower, be sure to have towel before getting in.

When running to the laundry room to get your clean undies, make sure nobody is home.....first.

Close the curtains at night.

Shut off the flashlight in your tent before undressing.

Make sure the door is not locked when running out to get the paper in your jammies.

Never go to bed without sweats or other substantial clothing nearby if you are a parent......you will have to get up.

Before company comes over, check the couch and bathrooms for stray laundry.....those undies have the darndest way of showing up unexpectantly.

Moms, don't hang anything on the clothes line that you would mind being a cape.

When putting make up on early, take a second look to make sure there are no globs.

When putting mascara on in car, check face before going into event.....

If you sneeze, take a look, if you can't do that, have a friend check. Nothing worse than figuring out later that something was hanging out your nose.

If you have feminine supplies in your purse and you are looking for a pen, dig with caution. (I did sling a tampon out at a king soopers)

Newlyweds, put away those prophylactics.....never know when the pastor or your parents will drop by. They really don't want to picture that.

blessings,
rhonda

Pendulums of Life

As we know, I am the observer. At times, it serves me well, at others, it drives me to distraction. Today it is the second.

I've been watching kids........yes, again. Wondering what we are doing to them. You see, what I'm observing is how kids who are raised in a legalistic, controlling environment become the opposite of that. At least for a time. It seems that some grown ups think that making every decision, belittling, and tearing down make sure a kid will grow up to do exactly what they say. From observation, I would say NOT. Nope. Not happening. The kids I see that are raised that way rebel horribly and hugely..........with license. License to do, think, be, or take whatever they want......even if it makes no sense. Especially if it makes no sense. It's like they try to prove that you only love them if they follow your rules. It's what they were taught.

And then there's the other side....permissiveness. Everything goes. No guidelines. Just do as you choose. Like clothes hanging on the line, flapping in the wind; the kids are just as lost. And, strangely, they often end up making hard line rules to live by. And in the trying to be absolutely perfect, they find themselves depressed, hurting and feeling like they can't succeed.

Life works on a pendulum. We rarely strike the balance perfectly. But it seems to me that perhaps if we all treated kids like we need to be treated then maybe they would do better. I mean, legalism does nothing for me because I am totally incapable of doing everything right.....and frankly, I rebel at the constant "you shoulds". But looking the other direction, when there's no input, I assume a person does not care aboutme. I figure that I am on my own. Maybe it's the idea of coaching. Of supporting. Maybe grown ups need to realize that it's less about control and more about example and loving even when we don't get our way. And doing this while keeping our eyes open so that we are not allowing ourselves to simply be used. That doesn't help either. I mean, we all are used to a degree, but I mean not catering to bad habits, setting lines and boundaries. But the lines and boundaries can be set with compassion and calmness. Those ultimatums may come at some point as teens begin to spread their wings and fly away. And some are not flying into a nice sunshiney day. Some seem bent on flying into the storm. We wish they would wait. We gripe. Complain. But what if we understood? What if we stopped long enough to remember that desire to get out from under someone else? And in that realizing dealt with the teen.
"I respect that you are feeling ready to get out on your own. I have a few concerns that people might use you if you are not financially ready to support yourself." "Perhaps we could make a plan to get you out on your own that is beneficial to both of us." "I can't allow certain behaviors for the safety and peace of our home." "Things that are illegal could endanger your siblings, so I can't have you doing them here." "I know that you choose, I just want to be here to help you make it to who you need to be."
Maybe if we could quit making it about how kids dress. Or who they hang with. Or how they seem. Maybe if we could make them realize how desperately we love them and are for them. I mean, isn't that how God was and is with us? I am so much for you that I'll send my child to show you how I am. And you will kill him. And I will love you anyway. As a matter of fact, not only will I love you anyway, but it will be the ultimate sacrifice.
Kids need us. They need us to walk with them. To be for them. To speak the truth without it being about whether we love them. To allow consequences when it feels like it will kill us. To not tie our identity up in theirs so much that we are ashamed of them if they don't look or act how we wish. No matter what, we need to be able to look at them and say, "you are mine. I love you. I am for you. I will not allow some things because of the law, but those things are not all you are. I see you. You are special."
Even if your kid is drunk every night. Or finding him/herself hooked on some drug. Or having sex. Or pregnant. Or flunking out of school. Or using language that curls your toes. Or behaving disrespectfully. Sometimes in life, we get lost. We lose our way. We need someone with a light to come find us and love us and wrap us in a blanket and be there when we awaken from sleeping with some good food. Not hit us with the flashlight. Not leave us out there and not come looking for us. But even if you do it all. Walk with them and all. You have to realize. We have to realize.......they make their own choices at some point. You can love. You can hope. You can pray. But you don't get to decide for them. You get to decide for you.
Will you write them off? Or will you keep who you know they are alive in your heart and love them fiercely? You will have to choose at some point in time. These kids are all around us. You have watched them grow up. You are their parents, teachers, coaches, directors, counselors, boy scout leaders............you get to decide who you will be in their lives. Not how they will live their lives. That's hard when you love. Painful. Irritating too.
But, it will make all of the difference if enough people stand beside and walk with and walk through. Not maybe now. But someday.
blessings,
rhonda

If it Doesn't Kill You It'll Make You Stronger

Nope, I have never thought it should be true either. "If it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger." I mean, it's kind of like wishing that ice cream would not go straight to my belly. I don't want it to be true. I want life to be smooth. I want life to be easy. I want for my family and friends to be treated fairly and kindly and not to face hardship. I want for those I love to have joy and peace and happiness.
But, the fact is that life does not roll that way. If you are living, you will face heartache. You will face pain. You will encounter great loss. Oh, how I long to shield the people I care about from such things. I would rather take any of those than have them have to carry those hurts. But I can't. I cannot because it's impossible to completely walk in another person's shoes. I wish that I could keep my kids from every hurt. But now and then, I have moments of clarity. I have moments where I realize that living and growing requires learning to deal with hardship.
And while I can't shield, I can walk with. I can cry with. I can listen. I can pray. I can bring smiles. I can speak hope. I can just show up. I can encourage. I can just sit for hours and wait. I can't make the pain pass. I can't guarantee a good result. I can just help make sure that the agony does not kill them and truly does make them stronger. I can point to the future.
And, I can still live in joy. Gloom does not have to take over every aspect of life.
But, oh my, when the kid is hurting, when someone has been mean.........oooh, it's all I can do to not take it all on and try to make all right in the world. Or my husband. Or my friends. But to take it on means denying them the satisfaction of survival. It means believing that I can do it better than they can. And really, the fact is that I can't walk their lives. I can only empathize and walk with them. They have to write their own stories and make their own decisions. And I have to uphold them as they do so. I don't have to make everything right. I don't have to make the problem go away. I have to make sure that they know that they have everything it takes to make it through......they need to know that they are able to be brave, able to be strong, able to stand. And you know, they are. Every last one of the people I know and love have everything they need to be a great success. Failure will be a part of the walk. That's fine. Hurt will be too. And while that doesn't feel fine, I know from my own life that hurt has made me learn and grow and helped me to become the person that I am. So I need to allow them the experience.......not be a shield but a force that walks with them. The voice in their head that says I know that they can make it. That I trust them. That they are smart.
As a mom, it's easy to want to make myself indispensable. Easy to want to be necessary to put out the fires and calm the storms. But it turns out that that is pride. And my pride can actually keep those I love from experiencing life and learning and growing. So, I have to allow them to make their own mistakes, make their own decisions and then just be here to love and care. It's my biggest job in these years. My kids are good. My friends are smart. My husband is more than able. I will help them along. I will walk with them. I will accept who they are and what they decide. But I will not stand between them and living their own lives. I can't. It would be taking away the greatest thing in the world.......truly living. Good and bad. Pain and joy.
Maybe you struggle with this too. Don't despair. It's natural for women to want to make everything ok. Do yourself a favor and trust those you love to the One who made them. They'll do just fine. Not without worries, but they'll make it through.
blessings,
rhonda

Things We've Found

Things we've found.....no, not out and about, but in our own house. Over the years, and with the amazing amounts of kids that both live here and visit here, we have found interesting things in our home that I NEVER thought I would find.
Like the time we were cleaning under Jake's and Joe's bed and Jake backed out fast and said there's a giant spider under there! Joe got a Mason jar and a piece of paper and lo and behold, the wolf spider was bigger than the bottom of the Mason jar!!Creepy. And under that same bed, but later, when Isaac was the one sleeping in it, we found something most unusual. Keep in mind that we call Isaac a packrat. He is the kid with the nest. Think Templeton from Charlotte's Web. Seriously. NO, I'm not kidding. We started noticing an unusual amount of flies in the house. I just couldn't figure it out. We weren't leaving the doors open or anything. And shortly after that, I noticed a rank odor in the boys' room. I mean, worse than usual. So, being brave, I begin pulling stuff out. As we got to the under the bed part, I notice Isaac's Easter basket. Oh no!! We had told all of the kids that they absolutely could not keep the real eggs in their room. This was the next winter, after Easter had been the previous Spring. You get the idea. Isaac kept his eggs. They were pretty. They were his. Well, one of those eggs had cracked. EWW. And then, well I learned that flies lay eggs in such places. UGH. And then, yes, maggots. AAAhhhhhh!!!! So I'm gagging and choking and John takes the egg and puts it in a Mason jar......with boys, why does everything go in a jar?.......and pokes holes in the lid and puts the jar out in the barn so that they can watch the cycle of a fly's life. Disgusting.
Then there was the time that I asked the boys to take the roasting pan around the side of the house to the trash to empty the turkey remains into the trash. Well, a long time passed by inbetween that request and the next time I needed the roasting pan. And I couldn't find it. But, thankfully, one of the boys remembered that it was around the side of the house. They had carried it out and left it there. Uh oh. So, two of us go around and pull off the lid. AAAaaarrrggghh. Maggots. Yes, if you leave a turkey carcass outside for a month or so, it smells really really bad, and the flies love it. But, it was my really expensive roasting pan. So, Isaac and I loaded it in the car and took it to our house that was being remodelled because we had chickens there and we figure that we can get rid of the whole mess to the chickens. Well, suffice it to say that the pan overturned in the car. Gag. Little maggots wiggling around. Oh man. I nearly vomitted. But somehow survived the clean up.
Then there was the cat who brought snakes to the kids. He really did. He would go catch garden snakes and bring them back to the porch and wait for the kids to come. They loved them. Joe had five of them in a tank with a heated rock and the whole bit. And they would take them out and play with them. And sometimes their friends would play with them. They would take them out in the grass and it was a lot of fun. But one day I went in the room and there were only four snakes in the tank. And Joe said that one of the kids had lost one out in the yard when they were playing with them. I was quite relieved. Until about a week later when I was picking up clothes from the floor in their room!!! And, you got it, I picked up a pair of jeans and there was a coiled up snake. Yes, I screamed. And I am not ashamed. And I ranted. Yep, I freaked. And yes, the snake was maybe 12 inches long. Ick.
Then there was the time that the boys came back from South Texas with a chameleon. She was a really cute little lizard. Actually an anole. They change from green to brown. And she had a great tank with a good lid that attached to the top. It was the perfect set up. We had a lot of fun watching that lizard and feeding her crickets. Until some kids came to visit and left her lid slightly ajar. Sigh. She was gone. We looked and looked. We gave it up and decided maybe the cat had gotten her or something. Then, a year later, Anna was sitting on the couch when a little lizard climbed up on the armrest!!! She screamed. Lizard fled. We never did find that lizard. We eventually gave the couch away. Sorry Leanne. That couch probably had a lizard in it.
Being a mom has been more than I ever knew it would be. It makes me laugh just thinking about it. This is just the tip of the ice berg really. It has been an amazing adventure. I love every little scary, exciting moment. It is so worth it.
blessings,
rhonda

To Clean or Not to Clean

I am in a conundrum. I am working on cleaning the room of my four boys. The eldest just left for college, leaving quite the pile of castoffs behind. The other three enjoyed rummaging through for what they wanted and now there sits the dregs. In the closet there are two dozen pairs of shoes, clothes strewn, instruments, blankets(one son likes to go in there to read and sleep), pillows (see aforementioned son's habit), trash, books....piles of them, and cast off toys. Seriously, that is just the closet. You can't even imagine the wonders of each drawer and shelf. I have begun piling and sorting. Trying to figure out what is what. I have a bathtub full of tennies soaking. My eleventh grade son learned how to get them really clean and new, so I'm trying it. I have cringed at the mega pile of clothes that I have tossed into the middle of the floor. This is after they have "cleaned" their room and gotten rid of what they don't want or don't need. One son had over a hundred dollars sitting on a shelf. No, I didn't take it to compensate myself for all of my trouble. The same son has four wallets. This son can never find a wallet to take to the store. Sigh.
I found three twenty Q games. Innumberable nerf dart guns. Several disc guns. Books everywhere.......well, except for on the one empty shelf. I'm not quite sure what to do with it all either. The thing is this: I know why some of the stupid little things make them smile. They are a little memory. They don't really use it or anything, but they remember who gave it to them or where they got it. And I understand that. Memories are important to me. Losing my mom at such a young age makes me appreciate the silly little things that people have stored away.....that's what I got from my grandma when I got old enough......my mom's "treasures".
However, somehow we have to navigate this room. And no matter how many drawers or shelves there are, the boys seem most content with their stuff out and all around them. Driving their parents nuts.
My third son has what we call the "nest". He loves having his belongings right with him. On his bed. Clothes. Stuffed animals. Books. Snacks....yes, ick. Important papers. Laptop. You name it, he keeps it close at hand. Perhaps that's why he was sleeping in the closet?
But it is time to rearrange the room. And we are having a garage sale on the weekend. So, I have braved a few drawers and shelves. I am sorting. But then I think, is this really MY job? I mean, I do it and within a matter of hours, they have it back to their comfy cozy status. So, I don't think I am doing it for their sakes. Maybe it makes me feel like a better mom. Not really. Makes me feel like a more tired mom.:)
But then, maybe there's another reason. It's like a little memory trip. I, too, see things that make me smile. That bring back a good memory. You can imagine how many baby teeth I find. And somehow, though it's an icky, time consuming, hard job, it's also a pleasure. I'm so glad to have them. To have them be a part of my life.
Maybe this time is so hard because Joe is gone. And, it's hard for any of us to part with any of his stuff.....even the dregs. I mean, we still look for his car in the driveway. I am still surprised in the mornings to find his littlest brother in his bed in the mornings. Maybe I have to do this so that I can finally feel like he has moved out.
I don't know, but I better get back to it because I only have about four more hours before I have to pick them up at school, and frankly, it won't be close to enough time.
Oh, yes, all four boys have been in one room. It's a four hundred square foot room with a walk in closet and full bath. So, there's lot of room to hide, I mean, store stuff.
blessings,
rhonda

Wisdom Where Art Thou

Intelligence abounds. Intellect and knowlege are the reigning entities of this generation. With the internet and the fast transfer of information, there is virtually nothing that can't be learned at a touch of the fingers to the keys. And kids, well kids are the best at it. They can find whatever they want to know. I'm sure most of them are studying geography and mathematics. Perhaps poetry. Or maybe not. But most of the kids do use it to study, to learn, to find directions, to communicate with the rest of the world. Honestly, I think that my kids have more in their brains than I had at their age. There is just so much to learn now. Consider American History......our grandparents had a whole lot less years of it to learn. Or technology. Consider how much time that takes up in the learning process. Intellectual pursuits are easier than ever, but there is so much to know that it's impossible to get to all of it.
In the midst of it all, wisdom and discernment have been left behind to a degree. Perhaps this is because they are not instant and require more input. Wisdom has to be pursued. There is no easy access button. It takes more than just knowledge, it takes knowing how to put the knowledge to work for good. It takes the ability to understand the difference between right and wrong. Don't even get me started with how difficult that is in our current world view. "Well, if it's right for you....." seems to be the measuring stick of the generation. But, what if it is right for someone to steal your diamond ring? Is it right? Or if murdering seems right to someone, should they not be held accountable? To be wise we have to grapple with right and wrong. We have to work through the black and white and find that some things are very difficult to figure out. This is where wisdom grows. Using our intellect to do what is good. Using our intellect to discern between things.
We have raised a whole generation of kids that are going out into the world trying to figure it out with no basis. Everything can't be right, or everything is also wrong.
Seek wisdom, my friends, it won't fail you. And, it will be a legacy to the generations.
blessings,
rhonda

Parent Joy

There is no greater joy in parenting than seeing your children find who they are meant to be and flying that direction. It is more satisfying than even finding your own way. I mean, it feels good to do what you are meant to do, but you have some sense of control over it. With your kids there is just so much hoping and praying that goes on. You want them to be safe, but not so safe that they are afraid to risk. You want them to perform, but not so much that they conform. You want them to grow, but not so much that they forget who you are. You adore them. You route for them. Loudly and without embarrassment. They are yours. And when they fall down, you never feel the need to tell them how you knew they would. You pick them up, stand them on their feet, look them in the eye and tell them that they are yours. And always will be. But there comes a day when they don't need you to pick them up so much. And they don't need you cheering in the stands. They are ready. They are balance on the edge of the nest and flapping their wings. And suddenly, with a gasp from you and from them, they take off. Wobbly. Frail looking. Plummeting. But suddenly, WOW, there they go!!! And you see them swoop back up, recovering from that free fall look. Suddenly those young bodies look grown and mature, hard to tell from the adults around. Taller than you. More computer literate. And flying. Flying away. Flying high. Flying to their own new place. And you gulp. And you cry. And you hurt. But deeper and more intense is the sense of pride. The sense that they have done exactly what they were made to do. And at those moments in life, there is no greater joy in parenting. It makes all of the diapers, the vomit, the late nights, the worry, the trouble, the everything, completely worthwhile. And your heart rushes into your throat and you tremble with the thought........my child has become an adult. And it feels so good. And, if the kid is worth his salt, he lets you revel in your pride and doesn't take all of the credit for himself. He remembers where he came from. He doesn't lose sight of where he is going.
Don't worry, your job is never done. It just changes. It goes from boss to advisor. And it is much more pleasant. Enjoy the fruits or your years of labor.
blessings,
rhonda

Knights, White Horses and Fairy Tales

I hate to be the ogre that tell you this. I hate to be the one to burst your little bubble. I hate to be the bearer of bad news. I despise that life might never again be the same after this. Sigh. Big breath. But someone has to say it. Fairy tales are not real. No, not at all. No fairies in my life who got me dressed and beautiful for the prom. No knights who kept me from being barked at by boys in junior high. No white horses ever ride up outside the window of my house and save me from the inevitable toilet cleaning. No prince has ever found my shoe and spent hours and days searching for me. Nope, there are no fairy tales.
But all of us still have little girls inside of us. We still all watch the movies that end with the knight in shining armor coming to the rescue and everything working out alright. We hope for beautiful locks and matching dresses and shoes that are never worn or ugly or stained. And how is it that they are never sagging or droopy looking? And all those horses, but no horse poop. It's all just a fairy tale. It's a fantasy. An escape. A place to go and play pretend, just like when we were children.
But the thing is this: none of us really get the happily ever after without any pain or hard decisions or deaths or break ups. Nope. Not one. Happily ever after is in a storybook only.
So, what to do? Quit looking for the fairy tale and look life square on and find JOY. Real, not fantasized, joy. The kind that tickles to your toes and warms you up inside. Oh, don't be afraid of those fairy tales. They are harmless enough. They are even fun. And make believe is good for a season. But it will not sustain. To live, you have to see what is real and learn to be content. Learn to see the beauty in the real. I hope that your ability to do so will increase and that in time you will find more fulfillment in finding the joy that in wishing for a fairy tale complete with a horse, a prince and a carriage. Because real love, real family, real living is SATISFYING. It fills you up. It makes you content. Seek it diligently.
blessings,
rhonda

Comfort Foods.

What do you eat to bring comfort? If you are a man, ignore that question. It seems to be a woman thing. And sweets are right up there. And salts. You know. Ice cream and french fries. MandM's and chips and dip. But really, comfort foods are so much more. Like freshly baked bread. Or meatloaf. Or oatmeal. Or, in our house, spicy spaghetti. So many yummy things to think about. And I wonder what makes foods bring comfort. Sometimes it's just the smell. I mean, how can you not be comforted by cinnamon rolls rising and baking? It's so homey. And dependable. Or apple pie. The aroma alone brings a peaceful sense of calm. And at this time of year, it's so much fun to make it happen for our families.
Chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven. Ham sizzling in the roaster. New potatoes lolling in butter. Green beans browned in garlic. Simple things. Nothing at all extreme. But comforting.
Nothing builds relationships like food. There's something about sitting down to a meal together that loosens us up and makes us relaxed. No wonder the church my grandparents went to when I was a child had potlucks so often. It inspired a sense of community.
Fall is here. Find ways to feed your soul with the simple pleasure of enjoying good food. You will find it very satisfying. And you can always call and invite a friend to share the pleasure.
blessings,
rhonda

Here Piggy Piggy

You'd think I'd spent the last month handling swine in asia or something. I have been icky sicky. As a mom, I usually fly through the annual illnesses, but this one has taken hold and won't give up. So, last night, I did what all good Americans are doing and I looked up the symptoms of swine flu. I even watched a video done by the government. Oh my gosh. It made me laugh. I mean, seriously, it didn't help at all. Cough. Body aches. Temperature. Sneezing. Headache. Fatigue. Perhaps vomitting or diarrhea. Ha. Isn't that the flu in general?? It turns out that it's not as big of a deal as people made it. It's the flu. It's just that most of us haven't built up an immunity for it before and so if we are exposed, we are more likely to catch it. Except, ironically enough, ELDERLY people. They were apparently most likely exposed during the last epidemic. But, if your body is sickly or compromised in some way, it can be more serious. Just like any other flu.
I completely expected something more exotic. I mean, where's the fun in having something so unusual and it doesn't even have any of its own symptoms. Like growing a little piggy tale. Or getting an enlarged snout. You can tell that I was expecting so much more from something that has received so much press. Something unusual. But, as is generally the case, it's the same old kind of things that make us so sick. Even when it's just getting stuck in a rut.:)
So, if you are feeling any of those symptoms and it lasts for more than a "few" days, you "may" want to see your medical professional according to the governmental agency. Or not. I guess you have to decide. But they did say that if you are turning blue you should seek medical attention. Well, ok. I guess so. Or if you could not breathe. Might be too late if you can't breathe.
Once again, without saying it, they were simply saying "use common sense". If you are ill and it seems like something is glaringly wrong, seek attention. If not, ride it out. That's the theme in our houseful of kids. They rarely need to go to the doctor. They are incredibly healthy. But, there are times to go. Like when Isaac's lips used to turn blue when he got a virus....turns out that he had viral onset asthma. Or when Isaac couldn't raise his arm after he got home from camp. Turns out that when he fell down he had broken his clavical. We didn't know it for a week. Or when Jake connect his chin with the springs of the trampoline and the gaping, gushing wound soaked his shorts in blood.......no stitiches, super glue. Turns out maybe I could have done that?? Just kidding. Or when Joe ran off on his bike without his helmet and had a race with a friend coming back to the house. We have a dry ditch out front. His front wheel hit the ditch wrong and he went over the handlebars and straight into the tree........with his face. And it knocked him out. Josiah came running in screaming that Joe was dead. He wasn't. But he was certainly banged up and concussed.
So, in this rather unsure time of not knowing what to do, use your common sense. If it seems like you might need medical attention then go. But I guess we don't need to worry about every cough, fever and sniffle. It's a flu. It is dangerous the same way other diseases are. If you get a secondary infection. As in, pneumonia. Or if you are already compromised by another disease. That's what I got from the video. But if those things don't occur, I guess you just relax, go back to bed and drink plenty of fluids. But as moms, does that ever really happen???? Ha. That simply means recline your van seat a little bit while driving the kids around and carry a water bottle along. That's ok. We love it. Cuz we love them. Now, when "they" are sick, it's a completely different story. Oh my gosh. When my husband gets sick the world ends. The man is a rock when he gets injured or has to work hard, but give him the flu or a cold and he turns into a whimpery dude. It's the weirdest thing. He can't do anything when he is sick. Lucky for me, it's rare. There have only been a few times that he has been that sick.
Here's to a healthy fall and winter.......stock up on your vitamins, juice and rest.
blessings,
rhonda

The Business Suit

Much to my dismay, and to some of yours, this blog in its original form was...snivel, sigh....lost. I don't know how or why. I just know that it was and then it was just a title. If you are a writer, you know the frustration. For once having put out there what was in your heart, it's hard to do an encore. But due to the many people asking..........ok, only one.......I will give it a shot.:)

Have you ever owned a business suit? Not just a jacket, but the whole shebang. If not, this will come as a shock. It feels good to put on a business suit. Like playing dress up when you were a little girl. But not in the frilly way, in a way that totally makes you feel all grown up, finally. I mean, you look in the mirror, and there you are, a professional woman. And some of us, well let's face it, there is nothing professional about our holey jeans and baggy sweaters. Or our t-shirts and shorts. But a business suit is so classy.

You don't particularly NEED a business suit for day to day life, but go and try them on anyway. But a word to the wise........don't wear dumpy, saggy socks or bad shoes. It totally takes away from the classy, professional look you are going for. And remember this little tidbit: business suits are fitted. They are kind of snug. So, if you say, have a little roll around the middle, or a bundle of rolls.....well, by all means, also try on a body shaper. Otherwise you will feel frumpy in your suit.

Business suits used to just mimic men's suits, but now they come in a variety of cuts and styles and colors. They can be very feminine. Go for pizazz and flair when choosing which ones to try on. Unique button closures, a ruffled collar, an unusual cut of the bodice. And by all means, try on some long jackets and some short. You will know right away what I mean. Most people look better in one or the other. It's quite obvious. If the suit makes you look squatty and dumpy, you have the wrong cut of jacket on. Beware.......the pants and skirts are size matched to the jackets. Sigh. Don't they know that WE women are not always size matched on top and bottom. If it's a problem, don't worry about it, you are just trying them on. Get a suit in each size and go for it.

A good suit is lined and a fabulous suit is attractively lined with something really pretty. Nobody but you will know it's there, but hey, you knowing it's there is important. The skirts are a little intimidating for some of us because generally they are not very long. Wear hose. Bring along a pair of heels. Before you know it, you'll be telling yourself how much you need a suit. And, it is handy. Works for all kinds of formal occasions. Also for job interviews. Sometimes the jackets are so wonderful that they are worth having just to dress up a pair of jeans. Heresy, I know. But whether you ever actually buy a business suit or just go and play dress up, you will have a lot of fun. You'll giggle. And laugh. but don't wet your pants..........or you will be forced to buy it!!!
blessings,
rhonda

What You Have

A good job. A fat paycheck. An inheritance. Stocks. Bonds. Insurance. Game systems. Swimming pool. Sauna. Big house. Big yard. Vacation home. Ocean front property. Prestige. Power. Disposable income. Tailored clothing. Personal tailor.
Name on VIP guest lists. All of these things are fun and good. Most of us would love to have at least a few of them at least for awhile. It would be so much fun to live like the rich and famous. Or, so it seems. I don't really know. Most of us are like me, comfortable enough, sometimes moreso, sometimes less. It varies. But happy enough with how things are. We can live without most of the things on the list and not really be worse off.
Friends who will put aside everything to be with you if you are sick. A family who would actully miss you if you were gone. Coworkers who respect and admire you. People who would hold your hand and not leave or even want to leave when life gets really hard or when your life is drawing to a close. A child who brightens when you walk in. They seem like such little things. We don't spend as much time trying to achieve them as the stuff we try to get. Yet, when the moment of need comes, we would give every single possession just to have even one person who is willing to be with us and not walk away. Kind of makes you wonder what you should spend your time doing, doesn't it?
blessings,
rhonda

When I Grow Up

When I grow up I want to be a teacher. Or a doctor. Or a mommy. Or a fireman. Or an astronaut. Or an artist. Or an Olympic swimmer. Or a football player. Or a stewardess. Or a trash man. Or a bus driver. Or a journalist. Or a preacher. When I grow up. Hmmm. Funny how we always ask them what they want to be and they always answer with what they want to do. Perhaps it is the nature of our culture. To be busy is valued. To be popular. To be valued based on what we do.
But isn't it funny that nobody ever responds to the question with I want to be compassionate? Or full of justice. Or kind. Or patient. Or loving. Or gentle. Or mature. Or friendly. Or good. Or brave. Or chivalrous.
We have so warped our minds that we are what we doing and not what we are becoming that our children set their minds on what they are going to do to make money rather than what kind of person they want to become while they are doing that job.
It's just a little thing, but it is of great importance. If what you ARE is a banker and you lose your job, then you lose who you are. If what makes you important is being a mother and your kids leave home, then you are lost. It seems like nitpicking. It seems like it doesn't matter. But it does. It matters because life is fragile and we cannot control what might happen. We can lose a job. We can lose our eyesight. We can become disabled. We can lose everything in the stock market. We can lose our house. But we don't ever have to lose who we are. Our circumstances do not dictate our character. Our character is who we are. It is much more than what we do. What we do can and should change through the years. Our character shouldn't so much change as grow.
When life falls apart. When the unthinkable happens and nothing is as it was before. When you are betrayed by one you loved. When you are unemployed. When you falter and stumble in what you do. Remember, you are more than that. You are who you choose to be by your actions. Your kindness. Your love. Your peace. Your encouragement. Your traits define you. Yes, you can use them in the activities of your life, your relationships and jobs, but you are defined by what you choose to be and not by what you choose to do. Keep it straight in your mind. It'll make a huge difference in how you live. It will increase your courage. It will always keep you challenged to remain who you are no matter what circumstances come.
blessings,
rhonda

A cord of three strands

Why didn't anyone ever tell me how difficult life could be? I thought that I knew about the pains of life having lived through so much childhood pain and the deaths of many whom I have loved. And, those things are painful. But there is a pain that goes much deeper to the heart. It is the pain that is inflicted by those who are supposed to be committed to us, supposed to love us, supposed to be worthy of our trust. This kind of pain traumatizes us to our very core.
We begin to question our worth, our value, our importance. We begin to wonder what our purpose is. We feel like we are free falling and that everything is uncertain. It's like everything is spinning out of control and we aren't sure how to deal with it.
How is it that people whom we love can deceive us? How is it that we can totally allow ourselves to be taken in and that we even begin to make excuses for the one hurting us? I am no counselor. I don't understand it, but in life after life, I've seen it as truth. The victim becomes the protector and the one who is unkind assumes the role of the victim.
And we weep. And we curse. And we question.
But if we are wise, we also surround ourself with truth. With those who love. With those who uplift and encourage. We keep walking. We know when we have to stop and rest.
The best hope for these dark and troubled times are unconditional relationships. The thing is that you don't know when these times will come and these relationships have to be in place before the trauma begins. It's important to nurture good relationships throughout life. Good friends. Good family ties. Healthy relationships that speak truth into our lives even when we don't want to hear it. People who see exactly who we are and choose to walk with us anyway. This is hard. It is risky. But it is the only safeguard for those times that come when you are dropped. When you are ostracized. When you find that most of the world turns away. These kinds of relationships are rare and precious. They can't be bought nor fabricated. Nobody can fake this kind of friendship. It literally is the person that you can call anytime for any reason. And they can call you too. It's give and take. Each sometimes strong, each sometimes needy.
Be aware of the relationships you are cultivating. If they are many but shallow, beware, there will be a time when you need a deeper friend. The one who can "sing back to you the song of your heart when you have forgotten the words."
Sure, it's a risk. Anything worthwhile is possibly painful. I mean, I got married and it was certainly no guarantee........my parents hadn't made it, my grandma had lived through years of unkindness. But, love and commitment were worth the risk.
Together we are stronger. If we realize our weaknesses. If we are honest. If we are vulnerable. If we are truthful. Some people try to make everyone this kind of friend. That doesn't work. Complete disclosure to the entire world is not just risky, it's dangerous and it keeps you from really having something special with people who really want to be your friend. It's not like you conduct interviews or anything, but there are those ah ha moments in life when we realize that a best friend has walked in. And we realize that we are stronger. Braver. More hopeful. More complete. And when the moments of trauma come, we have a strong rope to bind us together and hold us up from falling off of the cliff of despair.
So, take the time to nurture your relationships. I guarantee that all of us will come to a point where the only ones we have are the few. There will come a time for all of us where others turn away. And sometimes, we deserve it. Sometimes, we really screw up. Sometimes, we don't deserve it at all. A real friend doesn't distinguish. They will tell us the truth but walk with us anyway. I wish you such a friend.
blessings,
rhonda

The Little Black Dress

I don't care who you are or what you do or don't do for a living. If you are a woman, you need a little black dress. They have been a wardrobe staple for fifty years for a reason. Everyone looks good in it. You can dress it up or dress it down. I've seen women wear a jean jacket and boots with a little black dress and look stunning. And there is something about the moment that you slip one on and you feel so......feminine. Or sexy. Clothes do not make the woman, but the right clothes make the woman feel more confident, more pretty. Now, when you slip it on at the department store, a little helpful hint: bring a decent pair of heels. It makes you feel so much better. I always try such things on with white or black socks hanging somewhat loosely or tennies.....somehow, not quite the look I'm going for.
Again, if you don't have money to spend, go and try them on. Make an evening of lingerie and black dress shopping. Go out for coffee. Spend some time laughing and feeling pretty. Maybe let it coincide with a girls night of pedicures, manicures and facials. No matter your body type. No matter what body weight or condition you are currently in, you want to have a little black dress. Again,decent undergarments are imperative. Although those sheath style dresses don't hang quite as fitted as some of the others, you still want to be sure that everything is staying where it belongs.
My grandma said that in her day a woman would never have left the house without a girdle. She was strapped in one to go home from the hospital from having a baby!!! Can you imagine???
As women, we need to feed our need to feel pretty. We CAN wear jeans or pants or sweats or whatever we choose. We can be frumpy. It's allowed. But it wears on us. It's amazing how we brighten up with a little mascara and lipstick. A little twist of the hair. And the black dress is the icing on the cake of looking pretty. It's such a great little garment. Everyone can wear some style of it. You can wear it to a dinner party or a funeral. You cna wear it to a business meeting with a jacket. It's incredibly versatile. And, often, if you choose the right fabric, you can throw it in a suitcase so that it travels pretty much wrinkle free, wash it out in a sink and hang it to dry.
I know. We dress down. You can't imagine ever wanting a little black dress. But I'll tell you this....if you are married and you go spend the money and your husband sees you all dressed up before he knows you were out spending money, he will think it's totally worth it. I don't think guys only like women dressed up because it's visually appealing, though, I DO know it's true. I think they like the confidence and self esteem a woman has when she knows she looks pretty.
Have some fun. Go out and try on expensive ones. Go to Ross or Marshalls to buy. Go to the Anthropologie clearance rack. Shoot, on this one you can shop vintage. You cannot go wrong with a little black dress. Enjoy yourself. Oh, and if it doesn't fit or look good, get the bigger size without having a meltdown. Who cares what the number is???? The point is to look good. Just enjoy it.
blessings,
rhonda

Getting Lost

Sometimes I get lost. I find that I can't see where I need to be going or what I need to be doing. I squint and cock my head and try to get a better view, but I just can't see. I don't know the future. Right now, I don't even know the perfect job for me. I have some hopes and dreams, but I really don't know what will happen with them. For instance, I like writing. I like it a lot. I think that there is a place for that in my life. I'm not sure that it will be the place of making an income, though.
Mostly what I need is a light to show me the way. Like the story of the fire in the sky that the Israelites followed in the desert. Or like the light for my path talked about in Psalms. What a poetic picture of how we walk in life. We walk a path and we need light. We can do all of the squinting, we can walk or run or sit, we can curse, we can get lost. OR we can look for the LIGHT. If in a cave, never just wander. You'll drive yourself crazy. Ask for a light. Look for the light. Seek the light.
So many times when walking along I've been stumbling and bumbling and then ding, on comes the light and I know which way to go. It's like everything becomes clear and in focus and I realize things I didn't know before.
Walk in light. Keep your eyes open. You'll be amazed at the wonders you will discover.
blessings,
rhonda

Wishes

Remember when you were little? Remember wishing on a star? Or wishing of a dandelion when you blew off the little umbrella seeds? Remember the way a four leaf clover was hoped for? It's funny to me how much faith is in a little child. I mean, stars and dandelions have no power, but it doesn't stop a child from wishing. I remember vividly reading that if I asked anything in Jesus name that it would come true. So I prayed for my sweet dolly to come to life. I spent a whole day praying for that. On my knees in the driveway. In the house. Literally a day spent in prayer. My friends were in on it too. Strangely, though my dolly didn't come to life, I didn't have an iota less faith. I got wiser. I learned that some things are dangerous or could be problematic if they really happened. The day I was praying for my doll, my friend was praying for a new bike. But in my heart, what I was needing, wasn't my doll to come alive, but someone to be close to me, love me, be "mine".
Sometimes we wish for a certain something when really what we're wishing is that our need would be met. And often, my needs get met in ways I didn't even know to wish for. How many times have I prayed for money? Golly, let me think. Can't even come up with it. But never has it fallen out of the sky into my waiting hands. But, my needs have always been met. Food. Clothing. Shelter. Kid in college. I pray for a job. Don't have one yet. But, our needs are still being met. Great sales. Wonderful friends who share. Can't even explain it half of the time.
It is easy to get cynical and act as if prayer and hope and faith are passe. It's easy to behave as if they have no impact on your life. Really, they are what are at our very core. All of us. We are wired to believe. To hope. To desire to be cared for. I don't know where you are walking today. I don't know what people have told you about faith. I don't know anything about you. I do know that it's worth exploring and looking into. Because if you look at life, how is it that even in the most hellish times we find courage? What is it that causes us to take another step. Who are we and why do we keep wishing? Why do we keep hoping? Why do we keep getting up?
All I know is that I have found a God who answers not just the words of my prayers, but the cry deep in my heart. And this relationship has changed my life.
I still question. I still wonder. I still think. And unlike those stars and dandelions, He has actually heard and moved and acted on my behalf. I've seen it over and over. I don't understand it. Wish I could, because then I would explain it to you. But really, I don't have a way to define it. I simply know. To the depths of my heart. I am cared for. I am watched over. And that makes all of the difference.
blessings,
rhonda

Lovely Labor Day

I hope that your day was spectacularly wonderful. Mine was quite good. I got to spend it at the lake with a good crowd of teens. I think that there were three adults and ten teens.......well, alright, eight teens and two eleven and a half year olds. And some of the teens are kids who dress differently than me. Have haircuts that are really funky. They are kids who people look at on the street and wonder what they are up to. I wish that people could look past looks.:)
I have had a huge learning curve in this area. It's so easy not only to judge, but to judge falsely. To see the emo or indie and think that you have nothing in common. To be drawn to people who look like me and think we have more in common. But, I am learning a very good lesson. What people wear and how they style their hair and what body art they sport or don't sport do not determine their "niceness."
When we got to the lake today it was really lovely and fairly crowded. However, we spotted a picnic table by the water with plenty of space around for my blankies. Remember, I haven't been feeling well for what, five days or something insane. Anyway, we scoped out the spot and began hauling our gear over there. We are an interesting looking bunch. Geek, jock, indie, emo and any other title you can think of, all jumping out of a 15 passenger van and a mini van. It must look kind of weird to people. Ages from eleven to forties. All laughing and having a good time. We are family. We are friends. We hang together.
But I saw the look. The woman sitting directly east of us with her book and folding chair parked right in front of her really nice looking kayak. The look was less than welcoming. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure that the reason our soda stayed so cold in the cooler was due in part to that look. We did not fit into her stereotype of "nice" people. Some of us had lip rings. Some had gauged ears. Some had kind of flabby bellies and white legs. Some were wearing black including ripped jeans. I tell you, really, we have a HUGE variety. Some of us look stuffy. Some look hip. Some look like trouble. But the thing I know is this: we are a nice group of people. We are good neighbors. We care about people. We stand up for one another. We've had to learn to work through things too. We don't always agree. Ok, we often don't agree. But I'll tell you, there's not a person in the group who wouldn't help me up if I fell down. That includes the kids who tagged along. Some of the ones who look the "roughest" are the kindest helpers.
We got looks through the afternoon. Cold looks. But she and her husband finally left. Without a word or a smile. Without commenting on what nice kids they were. They missed out. No, I'm not arrogant. I am just getting more savvy. I am learning that I have often missed out too. I frown and glare when I could include and smile. I have a sense that someone needs to be "good enough"......whatever that means. I hate it about myself. I mean, I do think that there are standards in the world. I do respect the law. I'm not talking about that kind of stuff. I'm just saying that somehow I get too wrapped up in the looks of the package and fail to see what's inside. Generally, most of the teens, look the same inside: nervous, wanting to please, trying to find their places in a world that is increasingly unfriendly to kids all while trying to be more and more grown up. It's hard. So many kids walking our streets who have no place to really call home.
We live in a relatively small city, but there are tons of teens who are just looking to be accepted right where they are. Wishing to sit down with people for a good meal. Hoping for a smile and a genuine greeting. They see through fake. I am learning to love this part of my family too. All of us different but all of us for each other.
By the way, you might have guessed, my family includes more than those who bear my name and live in my home. My family are those who are brought in by the people in my home or in my extended families homes. It's a wide and varied group and it never ceases to amaze me.
Don't bring any self righteousness to the table, they will peg you in a moment. Bring a genuine heart that listens and loves and is willing to meet the need of the moment: companionship and really, often, a meal. And then, as you get to know each other, you rub off on one another. In genuine relationship. It's fun. It's exciting. It's a little scary. But it beats a life lived in a boring same old same old kind of world. I choose this.
When you choose to open your home, you never know who you will entertain. I hear that some have entertained angels and been completely unaware of it. I'm pretty sure that I've met a few. And one of them may have had gauged ears and an emo style. Who knew?
blessings,
rhonda

More on the Everlasting Arms

Just can't help coming back to it. All day long there has been a picture in my brain. These timeless arms reaching from heaven holding me, but inside of those arms are the arms of all of those who were sent to be those arms to me......again, I wish I were an artist. Sigh. I picture it so completely. The arms coming down and wrapping around my shoulders, guiding, holding, comforting, uplifting. But they are not intangible, they are the arms of the hundreds of people who have walked through my life and done good. It's such a beautiful picture. Too bad I can't take you in my brain to see it. But maybe, by telling you, you can picture your own everlasting arms. Maybe it will help you to focus on the beautiful fact that you are loved, cared for and cherished. I hope that wherever you are in your walk through life that you can take a moment and stop and be thankful for the arms that have held you and will hold you..........it's the greatest wealth.
blessings,
rhonda

Leanin on the Everlastin' Arms

Grew up rather unchurched for the most part. But, my grandparents' church was my home. From the time I was very small. And I loved hymns. I found them comforting and full of hope. And, seeing as how my life was so chaotic and things were never very certain, those hymns were like a lifeline of sorts. And one of my very favorites was Leaning on the Everlasting Arms. Loved the catchy tune. You could really belt it out. It was fun to sing. And it spoke to my young heart.
Thinking back, I can see why. "Safe and secure from all alarms". I needed that desperately.
Today I was trying to put my finger on what that looks like or feels like in our world today. It's like the arms that are holding a toddler who falls asleep and becomes so very heavy, but the arms keep holding him close and enjoying the moment. It's like the arms that hold the back of the bicycle seat to steady the bike while the six year old learns to ride down the street.....running along and holding on. It's like the soldier who puts his arms around his fallen comrade and carries him to safety. It's the safe and secure place that you can feel in your very soul. Of knowing that you are loved and carried when you just can't walk another step on your own.
When I was a child, I loved God, but I needed arms that were real and physical and there for me in the here and now. I think that's true for all of us as grown ups too. Easy to say rely on God while completely missing all of the arms He sends your way to help to carry you. Like the hug of a friend. Or a child. A mother's hug is especially healing. Now when I see everlasting arms, it's all of those arms in one picture. Can you see it in your life? All of those arms that have held you, comforted you and given you strength. It's like they all add up over the years. You store it up in your heart. It stays with you forever. Through time and growing, from those first arms that held you as a baby to the arms that reach out now.........all a gift to you. All to keep you safe and secure from all alarms. Don't miss the gift. It's easy to miss it because we tend to keep asking for what we think something should look like instead of recognizing what we have been given as the gift that we need. When you are feeling low and needy and like life is too big, remember the arms through the years. Friends. Children. Spouse. Parents. Siblings. Family. All of those arms. Picture them. Each hug through the years. Each uplifting moment. Those are the everlasting arms that God has sent here on earth to help to carry you through. And isn't it a good picture to look at them all at once? To sense the presence of all of those people all at once. Just goes to prove that a kind deed really does make a difference. Just giving an arm of support sticks in someone's heart and mind forever......where they can go back in and retrieve it anytime they need it. Make those memories for someone else. You never know what or where you will help to carry them through. Be the arms.
blessings,
rhonda

When Friends Arrive

Today I was tired. I've been sick for most of the last four days. I keep thinking that I'm better, but then, after I've been up for about an hour, all I can think about is lying down and resting. I have slept more this four days than I probably usually sleep in a week. And today was Sunday. Sunday is different at our house. It has been for years. I kidded myself this morning that I would get home and cook and lay down. My family would clean the kitchen and I would snooze. Yeah, right. Fantasy is really fun, isn't it? I'm thinking that my fantasy life is way different than my husband's. :)

Then a friend texted that she was coming over and some other friends. I asked my sweet husband and he said great. So, we were off and running. Homemade lasagna, salad, pan fried garlic toast, green beans, lemonade. It was only 13 today. We all lamented those who were missing. Less than 19 and we pretty much feel like it's a small family gathering. I know, weird in our society. We ate and ate. The lasagna was pretty good, I thought. My own homemade sauce. Pretty yummy. Did I mention that we are pasta snobs? We all stayed at the table and visited. I was quiet but enjoying. Everyone visiting. Laughing.

Then came the baseball game. I lounged on the porch bed with a couple of other moms. I was not up to being out in the yard this day. But I so enjoyed the kids playing. Hearing them joke and trash talk and tease and encourage. Then the coffee and brownies and ice cream bars. Mmmm.

We headed inside to play Balderdash. We laughed. Who can possibly not laugh when writing a definition to the word "butwink"? My thirteen year old son was playing. He could hardly contain himself. Dance, dance revolution was going on in the other room. My daughter and her friend were organizing her room. A first in a very long time. I hired the friend as a consultant to keep from battling......smart, huh? It got done, they were proud and I didn't have to throw a fit. I was productive without even doing anything. Gotta love that.

Then some people were on to leftovers and seconds on icecream. And hide and seek in the dark began. It sure gets dark early these days. The game brought loads of laughter and giggling and stories of a mouse being on someone's foot or a spider occupying a hiding space. Some of us were in the house playing Big Boggle.

It was after 10:30 when things wound down. People went home. My husband went to work to get some things done. I poured a glass of wine and grabbed my computer to blog for the first time in several days. And now, here on my bed, laptop warm on my lap, I think how nervous I was when I knew how bad I felt and how I had "company" coming. A little stressed. Not because of the people, but because I knew that I would suck at being a hostess today. I knew that my weakness would draw attention. I hate that.

But today was the best kind of day. It's the day when friends arrive. It's not about entertaining. It's about hospitality. About being willing to be vulnerable and let people into your life. It's about being a place where there is tradition and fun and an expectation that all are welcome anytime. I have always desired that of our home. For our kids. For their friends. For family friends. For people who need a place. My grandparents always made a big lunch and then went to church and figured out who all would be coming home. It was always a crowd. And the crowd stayed. The crowd had no plans. There were no time constraints. I love that. That is how we have things at our home. Parties, as people will tell you, run on south american type of schedules. We all arrive after church and don't eat until perhaps three. Then we just kind of play it by ear. It's always fun. It's always fulfilling. Even on sick days. Tired days. Grumpy days. It makes life worth showing up for.

Too many people have no place to hang out anymore. That's sad. Hospitality isn't hard. Our dishes are chipped. Our glasses don't match. We make do with whatever we have. It's not a big deal. I used to have a fit every time we were having company. Now, I try to make sure there's a clean towel in the bathroom. I don't much worry about it. I just figure that how we live is how we live.

If you haven't tried it, be brave it is totally worth it. When friends arrive, the day totally changes direction and you find more energy and more excitement and more joy. It takes courage to start because our culture has totally gotten away from this kind of hospitality, but it is very satisfying. It reaches all the way to your soul and boosts you up. If I can leave any legacy to my children, it is the legacy of Sunday hospitality. Days set aside for family and friends. They are special. They are completely a gift to the one who hosts. So, get out there. Be the initiator of some old fashioned hospitality. You will be the one who reaps the joy.

blessings,

rhonda

The Day the Earth Stood Still Otherwise Titled The Day Mama Got Sick

I should've known earlier in the day. I just thought that I was feeling a little down. You know, Joe left last weekend and school schedule for all of the younger three. Multiple trips to Lyons. I ran an errand and thought I needed a cup of coffee because I was feeling so sssllllooowww. And I'd already lounged under a blanket for a couple of hours. But, I went on home, didn't get the coffee after all because I forgot. Not really with it. Should have know, again. Got home and thought that I should get to some things. I had made zucchini bread earlier in the. Points for that, right?
But, I grabbed my blanket and got on the bed. Turned on the tv and was asleep. Woke up burning hot. Thought, (yes, I'm a little slow), wow, it really warmed up today. Threw off the blanket. Tried to wake up. Just couldn't feel motivated. But grabbed the thermometer that was at hand......and shock of shocks. I was feverish. Oh No!! I downed my tylenol. A while later my advil. I ate ice cream. I couldn't shake the fever......though I did have some times of shaking. So, I did the unthinkable. I went back to sleep. In the middle of the day. With the dinner yet uncooked. Without having gone out to buy the milk. Which I am regretting now because I have to leave in a few minutes to collect the sweet cross country runners and they are starving as soon as they hit the car. Can't make my mashed taters without milk. But what does that tell you?
Yes, I only slept enough that I would still have the perfect amount of time to make the pork chops and peel the taters. On a good day, peeling taters is the bane of my existence. Today, let's just say, I now believe in Purgatory. Eighteen potatoes for a family of six. Yeah, I know. Have you ever had three teen boys running cross country? It's freakish how much food they have to take in to just keep going. And my little dainty daughter, well let's just say she's no fainting flower, she runs hard and loves her mashed taters.
But today as I was self talking myself to get out of bed, I wondered what would happen if I simply did not. I mean, obviously I could. I did not faint. Not yet. I did not throw up. That's the good news, my tummy is fine.:) I guess the world would not have ended, but it sure would have been inconvenient. It would have taken two or three others to take my place making the dinner, doing the driving and making sure we have what we need around the house. Oh, they CAN do it. But why? I mean, mom is always able to get done what has to be done.
That's somehow in the job description. I never knew it. I am not a particularly driven person. But, over the years I have learned. They might or might not know it, but they need me. It's rewarding. It's a very good feeling. Most of the time. Today however, I was wracking my brain for something else. I just wanted to go AWOL. Too tired. Too emotional about the whole "my kid went away" thing. But, there is no mother sub-list. I looked.
So that's it. That's my pathetic day. The good news is that dinner smells great and when I get my errands done I hope to lay down with a book and perhaps doze off.
blessings,
rhonda