People are mean...or is it me?

I want to cry.

Pharaoh, Pharaoh was playing this morning as I was arriving to practice with the praise team before church. Today was homecoming and the Stick Kids were performing; since Megan is a member I know the song and danced to it along with the kids. I was there ready to praise and worship and for me this means having fun.

There was a lady there (whom I don't much care for) who turned to my friend and said "doesn't she know we're in church? She should not be dancing like that in here!"

When Sherri told me what she said I laughed it off and Sherri and I decided to continue dancing just to irritate her. Yes I know...I'm spiteful and immature.

Sherri had a great attitude about this, she said "if she thinks we shouldn't dance in church then we obviously aren't moving around enough". Allow to say this woman never comes to the 8:30 (contemporary service) and now perhaps I know why. We work hard to fill His house with energy and excite people to go out into His world and do His work.

That's what my brain was trying to emphasize.

My heart is aching.

Is it me? Am I immature? Should I act more grown-up? I know I make a lot of statements that I think to myself "did I just say that out loud?" Should I be taking life more seriously? Perhaps I should settle down and act my age....

I put everything I have and everything I am in to my family, job, Jesus. I live out loud and don't hold back. Should I be less vocal? Should I hold back? Should I be more refined and sophisticated? I know my children, husband, and boss would appreciate it if I kept my mouth shut and "behaved".

It's the timeless question : when do I have to start acting my age? I'm not really sure I want to if that means I too end up with the attitude of "don't dance in church", but if that's what I'm supposed to do I guess I'll start.

Just don't expect me to be happy anymore.

Reflections of Summer part III

Our last stop was to the beach. We vacation every year at Oak Island here in NC. It is a family beach with one putt-putt, one grocery store, just a handful of restaurants, one Dairy Queen, and safe enough to ride bikes anywhere with out the need of a helmet because car traffic is almost non-existent.

We have stayed in the same house for the past five years so it holds a lot of memories - 98% good, but a couple of scary moments thrown into the mix. (Like the year Warren's blood sugar dropped too low after being on the beach all day and the manager of the grocery store called me to because he had passed out and hit it head and was bleeding and vomiting. I was frantic and had to get to him quickly - problem was, he had the car! So I ran to the neighbors and they dropped what they were doing to take me to him. You see, in a place like Oak Island, there are no strangers.)

This year I found myself more at peace than ever before there. I would watch the waves crash, and the girls play, and take long walks with the love of my life just like I always do, but this year there was no anxiety.

This will sound crazy, but I believe it was due to Face Book. I have resolved several issues with people from my past through this tool. Some times I asked forgiveness of people and other times I would ask why a hurtful event happened. I have been able to let go of a lot of baggage that I held on to for a long time and that release has allowed me to find peace. I didn't realize this until watching those waves, taking those walks, and looking for those shells.

The beauty of God's world around me felt different this year. It felt free.

Reflections of Summer Part II

Our Next adventure was to Tennessee to visit my cousin and her family. Kim is really special and I loved having her all to myself ever if it was only for a few days.

Growing up basically an only child I always regarded her as a sister, whether she knows this or not I don't know. She has always just accepted me, mistakes and all. She has made her share of mistakes too and while we never talk about them, I think the similarity of our experiences draws us together even closer with an unspoken bond.

We went horseback riding along a mountain trail - which was very muddy and at time far scarier then we had planned on. We hung out by the pool and watched the kids swim while chatting about nothing in particular. And we went hiking in the Smokey Mountains. For me this was the best day because we just walked and enjoyed life with no pressure to do or say anything except take in the beauty God put before us.

I was so blessed that week and so thankful.

Reflections of Summer

This summer I have done a lot of traveling. The first stop was to Savannah to visit my parents.

I say parents, but I don't think Will really considers me his step-daughter as he always introduces me as "Cindy's daughter". To me he is (beside my grandpa) the only real dad I've had. For years prior to their marriage, he was the one I often looked to for help and guidance and he was always there. I love to spend time with him and he is the only grandfather my girls have - they love him soo much and are always so excited to get to spend time with him.

Beside the great sunsets and beautiful scenery, the most beautiful thing I saw in Savannah this summer was him. It was Sunday morning at the end of church and the congregation sang "Here I am Lord". They had some sign language type movements that went with it and I looked over to Will to see if he would do them - doubting he would because that just isn't his thing. As I watched him, tears rolled down my face. He was lifting his arms, eyes, and heart to the Lord. Never have I seen him so raw - every bit of his soul exposed. I was the most beautiful thing I have seen this summer and is forever etched into my memory and soul.

What I want

Warren and I are thinking about buying a lake house but we just can't decide...something feels off. I think of all the other places we could spend our money. And I feel like we are giving upon our dream of a house at the beach. I feel so close to God there.

I grew up with a lake house. I have so many great memories of my summers there on Jimmerson Lake in Indiana. Playing out side long after dark, chasing fireflies, fishing off the dock, taking my little 16' aluminum bout out and reading in a cove where the otters played, jumping off of the dam and swimming under it when the water was low enough. The friends who didn't know me from "home" so I wasn't stereotyped I was just me. Sitting by the outdoor fireplace long before they were in fashion and listening to the latest record that was bought - when Michael Jackson was cool...swimming out to the swim raft and climbing up on to it before the little fishes could nibble at my toes - that always tickled and freaked me out!

I thought I wanted my girls to have these same kind of memories. But then I went on the internet and looked a pictures of the houses there and was flooded by memories.

I just realized what I really want is to go back to that time for myself. Right now. The urge and desire is so strong tears are burning my eyes. I loved that place...those friends...the way my family interacted when we were there. It was like we were all different people there - I loved who we were.

I need to let go of the desire to make my memories the girl's memories. I need to create the best memories for MY family now.

But boy do I wish I could go back to those lazy days at the lake!

Nature is Harsh

I know, I know, a couple of days ago I wrote about how nature makes my heart stop. Last night it made it not only stop, but break.

The family of owls (5 that I can count) was hunting at their normal time and I was watching with awe as I usually do. I was looking up at my song bird feeding area and watching the mama cardinal take a break from her nest I saw the feeders were low so I went to fill them As I walked from the garage around the side of the house I caught the owls grabbing the two babies from her nest. I don't know where papa was. Perhaps they had eaten him as well.

I chased the owls away and ran to the nest to find it empty. Mama returned to discover the same thing and flew to a nearby tree to begin calling to papa. There was no answer.

During the night at roughly 30 minute intervals mama would call out to her family. It was so sad. This morning there is no chirping for me to hear. I have very few birds at the feeders. I don't think the cardinal family was the only casualty last night. My yard is filled with sorrow and my heart breaks for all of those parents that lost their children last night.

Warren says they'll lay new eggs and life will go on but I don't thin it is that easy. I truly feel these birds morning their loss. I don't think this is any easier for the animal kingdom than it is for us.

Hearts break and nature is harsh.

For about the past 30 years I have loathed Father’s Day. Since the girls have come in to our lives I’ve suffered silently and cried alone – I didn’t want to ruin it for Warren. Why do I hate it so much? For those of you who don’t know my story, my father died on Father’s Day when I was 7. I was sitting on his lap and we were laughing when he had a massive heart attack – the second in 3 years.

There is a quote by Anne Sexton that I love; “It doesn’t matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.” Unfortunately for me, those memories have faded over the years and I am left with pictures that I cherish to try and remember. Sometimes I make up stories to go with the pictures and try to fool myself that I really do remember. But, who he was to me is burned in to my soul. He was a kind, compassionate, and gentle man. He was a patient man but could be quick tempered – and boy was it a temper – with those who should have known better. He loved the Lord and he was crazy in love with me.

It took the Emmaus weekends and Family to help me overcome my anger and bitterness at God for yanking him away from me before we were finished. But I continue to wonder even know; is that how people felt when Jesus was taken? The disciples? Mary Magdalene, Mary, His earthly family? All of his followers? On and on and on…Did they feel cheated? Did they feel robbed, that their time together was too short – that they weren’t finished? There was so much more to learn and do! Did they beg God for just a little more time… just a little bit longer…please? Did we share the same anger, frustration and bitterness?

Why? Why when we love God and worship him do we have to feel this way? Is it right? No. Is it fair? No. Is it love? Yes. As crazy as it sounds, God is crazy about us – just as my father was crazy about me. As we’re told in Matthew 10:30 He knows how many hairs are on our head – now that is a Father’s love!

My father taught me many things, and although it took me 27 years; how to cope, deal with and live through pain was one of them. How I chose to live my life is a tribute to the rest of his lessons. Jesus’ followers had to learn the same lessons. While our lessons are sometime one’s we would rather avoid, our Father – earthly and more importantly Heavenly – has laid the foundation in our hearts that allow us to be reflections of their love.

Like many people, I often would wonder why God let bad things happen until one day I visualized a picture hanging in my mom’s house. It states “God doesn’t promise us an easy life, He promises us help to live it.” As the years have passed I have grown to understand what many of Jesus’ followers did also in the time following the crucifixion: God doesn’t let bad things happen, but He is with us while they are happening. We have to acknowledge His presence and thank him, not for the bad things, but for being with us, helping us through it. That’s what family does. That’s what my Fathers do for me – it just so happens they’re both doing it from heaven.

So, I don’t loathe Father’s Day any more, we really don’t make a big deal out of it. We go to church, much like every Sunday, but I worship differently, more deeply. I spend a lot of time talking to my Heavenly Father through out the day. He’s as crazy about me as I am Him. I’m definitely a “Daddy’s Girl”.