Some of you may or may not know from a previous post that I went to work for ministry. As my husband would refer, I am “The Church Lady.” I was warned that this would be the most challenging position of my life. Continue reading “Christians so unlike their Christ”
Girly and Gutsy Young Female Entrepreneurs in Fashion
Girls fashion is all over the board. I swore to The Chad I didn’t want a daughter because I was terrified of the world she would be raised. Obviously I ate those words, but today I am terrified nonetheless because of the amount of undue and unnecessary sexualization in our society that is aimed at young girls and young women. Fashion seems to be the biggest driver. However, I have found that even the best gems in fashion can emerge under all the pressure. Some girly, gutsy female entrepreneurs that create fun fashion without oversexualizing and or seeming too dull or lacking relevancy for young women. Continue reading “Girly and Gutsy Young Female Entrepreneurs in Fashion”
What Divorce Taught Me About Marriage
Today would have marked my parent’s fortieth (40) wedding anniversary. I am in awe because they have been divorced longer than they were ever married. I was inspired to write this post because of an interaction by proxy of both of my parents. Feeling like a gossip as I held these secrets between each of my parents in separate conversations. During those conversations I learned what their divorce taught me about marriage, my marriage. Continue reading “What Divorce Taught Me About Marriage”
They Said It’s a Calling but They Called Me
I have done many eccentrically brave (or daft) actions in my life. All of these actions called to me at some point, I heard them, they spoke to me, so I answered without hesitation. My first tattoo as an adult, a declaration that I am me, symbolizing my adulthood, independence and personality. Moving out of my parents home, heeding the call of the wild world, jumping feet first into the business instead of college. Still a teen (an adult child of sorts), I became the boss to a gaggle of man-children in business….see mom, being bossy paid off, leadership skills. Continue reading “They Said It’s a Calling but They Called Me”
Fuel Your Sound for Music – AudioTechnica SonicFuel Earbuds Giveaway
Let me just say I am very particular and have undiagnosed OCD, I have to have things a certain way. When I listen to music I have despised the old school foam headphones, they made me want to itch. The over the ear headphones cause a feeling of claustrophobia. In the ear, well, those have to fit or I am constantly fidgeting which causes me even more frustration. I love to hear the sound of music, clearly, so ear buds have to be just right. From the deep bass, to the treble and understanding the words speaking life into my ears. Ear buds are like Cinderella’s glass slipper, not each ear is like the other, you have to find that right fit. Continue reading “Fuel Your Sound for Music – AudioTechnica SonicFuel Earbuds Giveaway”
Confessions of a Prodigal Son
Life is about creating a story. The story we write or create is based on the decisions we make banded together with His story. So often we think we have total and ultimate control over our decisions and to some degree we do. Often we are allowed the opportunity to live our life a certain way, where our Father allows us to learn the hard lessons in life, sometimes painful, challenging and can reveal the worst parts of ourselves. Continue reading “Confessions of a Prodigal Son”
Has Social Media Become Anti Social Media
A friend of mine posted the other day about how Facebook has turned into a feed of others posting videos they have seen and no longer a forum for conversation. His comment was profound to say the least.
“Do people still actually post things here or is just a forum to share videos you found on the internet?”
Our social media venues have become more of the anti social media as we fail to engage one another. Social media (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram) seem to have transformed into venues of mental masturbation to help pass the minutes as we exercise, exercise bowel movements and or exercise our lack of effort into our careers and selves.
Many a late nights I used to delve into Twitter and Facebook. Twitter especially, as I engaged on many a conversations, albeit some superficial “mom talk,” as my twins were much younger and I found an online community of other women who had the same subscription of life. Bantering, high level disagreements and even some catty non-sense. However, the result was all the same. Conversation.
Today I see Twitter as a monologue, at best. Almost like a telemarketing convention where all of the sellers are dialing out to potential consumers with their tweets in hopes someone will buy their sales pitch. I was saddened to see my own church guilty of the same actions. Services were provided with a hashtag to “join the conversation.” Really? Who would we be conversing with? Other members I suppose, but I found that to be very anti social as well with other members tweeting, never actually engaging in a dialogue.
Facebook has transformed itself into much of the same fashion…coupled with the sisterhood of Instagram. Timelines are littered with selfies and no longer original and or beautiful content. I have watched these two venues turn into a cesspool of narcissism interlaced into being “social.” Social would be how many likes you received for your newest photo and nothing really ever of a conversation.
Have we let our new technology and new forms of communication dilute, if not totally eliminate, any true forms of communication or dialogue? Or is this the way we communicate now these days with pictures, videos, selfies and emoticons? How do we begin to converse with one another again?
With advancements of technology and forms of communication have we catapulted ourselves into the age of anti social media? Recalling an email I received from my dad about 10 years ago, he provided me his new phone number when he was living in Iowa and said, “text me if you want to talk.” I replied and guffawed at such a request, “I don’t text Dad.” Was I flippant, naive, optimistic that communication would remain status-quo? Maybe a combination of all three, never in my wildest dreams would I consider communicating with my parents, let alone my friends in such a fashion. Never would I have imagined creating a blog when just six months pregnant to detail the chronology of my twins in utero, their lives thereafter, our lives in their entirety as a collective over the past eight years.
I suppose since our lives are so busy, social media helps to keep us abreast of all of friends goings-on. Maybe we help show them our interests with the different shares and social likes through Facebook and Twitter. Social media has helped us connect with one another instantly and receive updates on breaking events in the blink of an eye as opposed to waiting for the following day or the late evening newscast. Yet, we seem to be more anti social because we have updates so frequently, so immediate that we can even sever friendships with the click of a button, block the information we receive, filter our lives to seem, feel and look perfect.
Have these “social” venues created an opportunity of anti social behavior?
Social media has allowed us to avoid having meaningful and legitimate dialogues with the click of a button, removing people from our lives when conversations become crucial. While we can connect immediately, we can disconnect just as easily. As opposed to having a healthy dialogue, we just shut the conversation down with block, delete, un-follow, unlike. We can avoid sharing how our lives are imperfect by sharing some of the best photos of the day when the picture behind the camera would suggest normal humanity, beautifully broken. Suddenly we have keyboard muscles that we exert as our form of exercise, because to exercise our mental capacity to accept diversity that something is less than perfect or a comment is less than favorable we remove the threat. Our behavior on social media is dramatically different that in person, acting as if we lack any inhibition to hurting another because we may not actually have real life interaction with people.
Have you found yourself in the vortex of anti social media? Have you found you are only sharing videos and other posts and never really engaging in real, healthy conversations or dialogues? Has your social media become a monologue and not a dialogue?
Spring Break and SwimSpray
March is a time for kids (and teachers) to take that mental break before the end of school. Teachers are feverishly cramming information into their little brains and you can tell they need just a week (or two) reprieve to get back into the swing. Most of us will be taking our kids on holiday to enjoy tropical, exotic or maybe even home locations to take in a much needed break. One thing I like to keep in my arsenal of goodies for spring break is prevention treatment for swimmers hair for my little blondies with SwimSpray.
What I love about SwimSpray is that the ingredients are all natural. Not like the “all natural” we have all read about, but truly a blend of natural ingredients found from our favorite summertime fruit. A convenient little bottle of citrus without the smell of citrus. Some of you may have loved the days of old with lemon juice to remove the chlorine from your hair, as a blond and spending many a summers poolside and with swimmers hair, lemon juice was my bane. Neck cricked over, towel on my head and constantly showering off. Knowing how much I did not enjoy this past time I surely will not inflict this on my children.
SwimSpray is just that. A spray of a blend of vitamin C and water. No harsh chemicals. No harsh smells. No drying out your hair and or your skin. Absolutely safe to use on your skin to get the drying and damaging effects of chlorine out of your pores. You can even use SwimSpray on your swimsuit to prolong the life and remove the chlorine and the chlorine smell.
SwimSpray comes in a four ounce bottle spray so it is super convenient to pack in your carry-on and small enough for even the most independent of little hands to use on themselves. Be sure to prevent spraying in the eyes and always supervise children when using this product.
Enjoy your Spring Break and summer, free of the harsh effects of chlorine with SwimSpray. Just spray on after swimming and wash as usual. SwimSpray is available online at SwimSpray.com, local swim shops, swim schools and other authorized retailers.
The Bonds of Trust
Skeletons in our closet can often become our undoing. We hold these deep dark arcanums dear to prevent hurting others and or to prevent unraveling of our relationships or the outward image we portray. Are secrets ever healthy? Can we have healthy secrets for the sake of protection not for ourselves but for others? Should secrets ever be shared for the sake of transparency, as to eliminate any insecurities regarding hidden truths. What happens when the bond of trust is broken for the sake of transparency?
One late evening several months ago The Chad and I were laying restless in bed and we began to have a very raw conversation about secrets. We discussed some details of our secrets that we held to ourselves, the details held no benefit to the other. For some reason at that moment we felt enough trust and security in our marriage to discuss these particulars, sans judgment and bias. After 14 years of marriage we felt we have experienced a great deal together that nothing could break this bond.
However, I struggled with this conversation. I felt as if I was invaded. My secrets are mine. Not that I was proud of these personal mysteries that are a dark part of me, of which I have accepted and have shaped who I am today. Yet these details are nothing I felt needed to be shared aloud, they were particularly crude to relive. The Chad knew of my disfavor after I distributed the details my secrets, explaining some things do not need to be said.
But to what end do we determine what secrets and unknowns to share with our spouse? Our friends? Confidants?
For the last year or so that I have been serving with ministry I have been learning about secrets, self identity. As I have matured as a woman, mother, human, my understanding of secrets has greatly evolved. I used to keep secrets because of my own personal insecurities and damning actions. Something I held to myself that would greatly hurt others because my actions, beliefs, knowledge of this secret could or would cause irreparable pain. Secrets formerly meant something sinister was afoot, a wrong doing of sorts. Now my secrets are not to protect myself, as a “save my own ass from implicative actions”, but to protect others, to protect their identity. I keep secrets to protect the vulnerability of others, albeit a paladin to the dark part of themselves that they accept are part of their fiber as mortals but no longer entertain the dooming actions or way of life.
I am humbled to be entrusted with these people in my life, whether directly or indirectly, and their secrets. Humbled because they felt my love was genuine and strong enough to withstand their naked truths. I am also taken aback by those who lack the maturity, application and mutual respect to hold my naked truths.
A recent road trip proved to release an unnecessary pink elephant that The Chad and I weren’t interested in conversing over with almost total strangers. Crucial conversations happen all the time in our home. I am no stranger to confronting conflict like a freight train, straight at the situation without stopping. However, possessing enough emotional intelligence to gauge the venue of which to have those conversations is cardinal for a productive outcome. Sadly, the venue presented itself when our opinion of one of our friend’s brother was shared openly, at a celebration of life (funeral).
Aghast at the confrontation of our secret. All I could do was to remain calm in the face of the girlfriend (the confronter) to the brother whom which we carried a secret. Reassuring her that the details, of our secret, were taken out of context. In an effort to thwart what could be an escalating situation, I flatly explained our entitlement to our opinion without malice and the conversation was had in confidence. At the same time I found the “tattle tale” style blathering to be abhorrent. An assumed, confidential conversation, in which we shared a bold, albeit distasteful, opinion of this brother. The actions were intolerable, childish at best. I could only speculate what would behoove our closest friends to break our covenant of trust. Or maybe we made an assumption that something, this “secret” of our opinion, such as this just didn’t need to be said or shared and they would mutually respect and acknowledge this view. Better, maybe we could have kept our big mouths shut…either way…losing battle.
Maybe we overestimated the assumption of emotional intelligence, respect, and confidence. Even with something as trivial as mentioning to your best friend that his brother is an asshat.
How do you overcome a broken bond of trust?
As I mentioned, ministry has assisted my transformation regarding personal confidence. Maturity helps in this aspect as well; recognizing and respecting that not all information is to be freely shared, no matter how anonymous. Our same road trip, The Chad and I discussed his recent mentoring group. The thought is thrilling for me to watch him be a part of a revolutionary group of men that allow him to be beautifully raw and unadulterated in his views, opinions, to be open in the haven of other mutually respecting men. In the midst of our discussion I was intrigued as to the breadth of their conversations, while he was very high level, I used deductive reasoning. Segue into the confidentiality agreement and covenant he is required to sign and the clause that he cannot share details with me. Considering I had already read and signed the agreement before he did, I was grinning ear-to-ear like the Cheshire cat noshing the canary at the sheer pleasure.
Quieting my joy, I listened as The Chad began to detail the reason for the covenant, of which I already knew the reasoning, but hearing the details aloud are always helpful. He mentioned that secrets, stories, moments in our lives do not always paint us in the perfect light. (Preaching to the choir) Sadly, not everyone has the maturity, awareness or where with all to accept we are all broken. If details were to be shared outside of their fraternity, this could then be sideways into gossip…even trivial details. Especially since a portion of the men in his group have crossed my path directly or indirectly as well as their wives of whom I am friends with. All tangled together in this small world of ours. Additionally, some details are not theirs to share with others, but to take in as listening and self reflection.
A part of me only wished that our friends knew and acknowledged these same contractual bonds. No anger or ill will is felt, but definitely a sense of mistrust and the overall lacking of security to disclose in a way confidants would normally. More so I am saddened that our level of friendship has been impacted.
As for my marriage. I enjoy that he and I have separate parts of our lives that we do not share with one another. Actually I revel in the fact that I can enjoy a part of me aside from him. From our children. From our friends. Even though we are married and even though we have deep relations with one another, with friends.
I suppose with any relationship, albeit casual and or professional, boundaries need to be set in order to determine clear lines. Boundaries could be the cornerstone to convalescing broken bonds of trust. But how does one repair even the most trivial levels of trust? When loyalty, trust and respect are so highly valued in any relationship, how can anyone shrug off a simple betrayal? Maybe I am looking at this too intently, but I would hate to trust someone with something more sensitive, high valued, precious, only to be betrayed again. How do you deal with betrayal? Even betrayal on the most juvenile level?
The Power of Prayer
Have you ever considered the statement, “You are in my thoughts and prayers.” I have found that this is such a statement of (in)consideration, truly a good majority of people say this as a form of pleasantry and never with intention. I am not quite sure why this irks me, but when people say “you are in my thoughts and prayers” I want to reply, “Am I really or are you just saying that because it sounds heartfelt and reassuring?” What people may not realize is the power of a prayer. To be a pray-er you have a conviction that you believe what you are saying, that there is power on a very human and supernatural level that God and the cosmos will hear your pleas, cries, and requests.
I never understood prayer. Being boldly honest, I was that smug, ass of a human to say, “I’ll pray for you” of which I thought quietly to myself how horrible their situation is and wish it better. I never clasped my hands, closed my eyes and opened my heart to the possibility that God may hear my plea. Albeit I was selfish, only praying for myself when the moment seemed dire or I had tremendous fear: a long road trip, a flight, or any other personal want.
I never understood how to pray. One might think, well you bow your head, close your eyes, clasp your hands, maybe fall to your knees, or raise your hands to the sky and plea to our Almighty to hear our requests. While these are a few forms, to pray means to really believe in your request. You must feel in your heart, soul, in the very fiber of your DNA, that you believe in the request you are asking of your Father. I compare this to my kids asking for something they really want. They come to myself or The Chad, mostly The Chad(…since I have a tendency to say NO…go figure God would be our Father, Dad’s are better about giving us what we ask for) and make their request with the strongest possibility that we will say yes, but they do not expect any let down. They are open to unimaginable possibilities with our answers, that we may offer up a concession to their request in which we have an answer, with a twist.
A year ago I attended a conference on prayer. Before the conference I read a book by the keynote speaker, Mark Batterson called The Circle Maker. Mark heads up a church in Washington, DC and he prayed circles. By circles I mean he would walk the blocks in the area in which he wanted his church to be planted, he walked circles around the lives and neighborhoods he wanted to transform, he walked circles and prayed while making those circles. His continuous efforts meant that he prayed with conviction and specificity for what he was looking to accomplish, by his consistent efforts his prayers were answered. Maybe not how he expected to a tee, but they were answered where needs were met.
His book and conference transformed the way I looked and thought about prayer.
I began to journal my prayers. I began to make prayer circles for what were extremely bold, sometimes superficial, requests we had in our lives. What happened next was not as I expected.
Nothing.
Nothing happened. I even became bored after just two short weeks of writing in the journal of these prayers.
I cursed. I was pissed. I wanted to throw in the towel. What in the bloody world would make these prayers come to be? I believed in these prayers. Requests happened for others, why not me? Why wasn’t God listening to what needed to happen, what needed to be fixed, healing ills, healing hearts, completing miracles.
I found I didn’t believe enough in my requests. I wasn’t broken enough. By broken, I was not allowing myself to succumb to the possibility that He could be moving in my life. By broken, I was not allowing for my life to be transformed by faith. Lacking in conviction I tossed aside prayer because quite frankly I wasn’t feeling it. As most do, they don’t feel the stirring that true conviction in prayer can bring. I also lacked the faith that God saw a higher plan for me. (Deuteronomy 29:29)
Take getting fired. Praying with conviction and stirring to find a new job, to escape the confines of my misogynistic boss. My prayer needed to be less about me. So when I began praying to find a job that made me happy, that made a difference in the world because I felt I was destined for something greater for Him and when I prayed for wisdom for the misogynist…
BAM! Prayer answered. Literally. Less than one month into praying for the boss to have wisdom I was fired.
God has a wonderful sense of humor.
We make these bold requests, prayerfully and faithfully expectant that He will eventually answer those prayers. Sometimes what our prayers need is more specificity in seeking answers. Sometimes we fail to remember is that the answers come in His time…
We so desperately want things to happen overnight. We so badly want our circumstances to change that we begin to muddle the situation. Meddling in the fine details and operations that we then change our prayer direction because something broke. So we pray for the broken to be repaired and we pray for those changes in circumstances. In those moments I found the best action to take is nothing. Do nothing but pray. God likes to let things break to show us that our earthly ways are not working, stop getting in the middle of the plan.
For example after being fired I immediately began looking for another job. Futilely and completely in vain I hunted for months. Broken, depressed and feeling less than worthy, struggling with what felt like impending doom with the holidays and tightened finances. I took to writing again in order to relieve my struggles, coupled with bold prayer. Admittance I was broken both in my posts and my prayer. What happened next was less than extraordinary.
Tithing 10% of my small unemployment and praying. Emails began to roll in for Christmas promotions. A friendship was rekindled that helped me utilize my God given ability to put emotions and thoughts to words, this same friendship encouraged me to begin promoting on my blog for Christmas. In just a few short months leading up to Christmas I was able to stuff my tree with items that were promotional goodies that you see posted on my blog. These items were transformed into gifts for my children. Yielding enough money to pay for all of Christmas, simply because I have a passion for words. A God given gift to write. A heaven sent answer from prayer. What was even more spectacular was The Chad’s bonus that we had not expected had allowed us to help answer one of our children’s prayer circles that they had: quads.
Prayer moved me more than just these superficial moments. At our 24/7 Prayer event that we had this past fall I signed up to pray for two hours. The church does a phenomenal job of providing prayer prompts to guide you through some of our most basic struggles with life and prayer. I attended with zero expectations and opened my heart. Guided to a black curtain station, setup for privacy reasons, I was greeted with the most uncomfortable and life changing of prayer moments.
Forgiveness.
What was suppose to only be about ten minutes of prayer in this station, where I would move on to other stations, resulted in a full 60 minutes of deep, trembling, crying until my eyes hurt, prayer for forgiveness. I prayed for those who had wronged me, forgiving them because I was holding onto the pain for me, I thought I couldn’t forgive them because that would mean they won, so I prayed for forgiveness. At the close of my session, I prayed for myself. I prayed that all I had done wrong to myself, how my horrible choices inflicted so much pain, the pain I felt just fueled more pain. The one person and event whom I had total control also resulted in being the most damaging at times. Exiting that day after my hour I felt rejuvenated and freed. The bonds of torture no longer applied to me. I let go of my anger. I let go of the pain. I embraced the power of prayer.
Looking back at those moments in prayer, observing our prayers and prayer circles, a gritty, raw, realization was made. Everything we wanted as a family, as individuals, had to do with passion. We update our prayer circles based on our passion, specificity and knowing that everything happens in time based on His plan.
I prayed for a new job and was fired. I prayed to become a mom and was gifted three amazing children. I prayed to provide for Christmas, tithed and received an abundance to give to my children. Today I pray more than I have ever prayed before because I know that He is listening. He provides me the comfort in taking away the superficial worry of occasions, events and happenings that are out of my control. He provides me guidance in struggle, clarity in uncertainty, resolve in our conversation. Feeling a conviction that sweeps over you with chills, that makes your very being tremble and shudder is powerful and brings us to our knees in joy and thanksgiving. Take the discomfort out of the thought of prayer by finding comfort in prayer. Believe it, feel it, and see what happens next. Stop using prayer as a conversational consideration but as consideration for conversation.