I know I can be difficult. I can overreact to the dumbest things. My sensitivity level is off the charts...so be careful, feelings can be hurt way too easily around here. It's silly, really. There are definitely times when I wish I was tougher, when things wouldn't mean quite so much, or when I wouldn't respond how I typically do. But then again, there are times when I don't show enough emotion. I don't let people know how much I DO enjoy something.
My emotions have been on high alert lately. We'll say we're at a level orange. High risk of tears and seclusion. All I have really wanted to do lately is be by myself. Be quiet. And eat popcorn. Sounds healthy, huh?
I am a quiet person. My family is a quiet family...for the most part. It really does bother me when people are absurdly loud. I don't need to hear your phone conversation. I don't want to have to scream over you to be heard by someone 2 feet away from me.
I enjoy being social and being around friends, but it is in the quiet times that I recharge. It takes a lot out of me when I turn on the greeting acquaintances face. Like I said, it's not that I don't enjoy being social...I just NEED time by myself. I really am a much better person when I get that time. The trouble comes when I can't seem to get out of the "I just want to be by myself funk". I've been there for a while now.
This kind of funk can be confusing. I want to be by myself....but that doesn't mean the same thing when it comes to Timmy as it does for other people. I want him around more than normal when I'm stuck here. It's probably not much fun for him though because I'm a grump, and he thinks I need to be by myself (which any normal person would think that)...and then my feelings get hurt because he's giving me my space. I'm crazy, right?
I don't handle it well when Timmy gets really busy at the church. I mean, he's always busy at the church, but there are times when he is REALLY busy. This week is one of those weeks. So, I'm trying to distance myself a little bit so I don't interfere, and so that I'm not the needy wife watching the clock and sending him messages every 30 minutes asking him when he's coming home....I don't think it's working. I think I'm just making things worse, because...guess what....my feelings are getting hurt. But I'll move on and I'll be fine.
I'll put on my brave face, and wait for tomorrow to pass. The next morrow will bring a little bit of quiet. Enough quiet to get me through until the next go round of crazy.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
learning to live, living to love
I probably start a blog at least once a week, and I either don't finish it, or I think what I've written is lame. Therefore, it does not get published. Here's another shot at it.
I think my issue is a long lasting fear of embarrassing myself or sounding stupid. I'm still quiet, but as I've gotten older...and more mature? maybe?....I've found that I am a little more confident in myself, and I speak out more and more. I think I'll always fear sounding stupid and embarrassing myself.
Maybe that's why I work with kids. They like being silly, and it's ok to sound stupid. You just laugh. No embarrassment...just laughter. Plus the kids move on to something else so quickly that they forget whatever you did that was embarrassing.
I have to say, there is nothing like walking into a room of 10+ 3 and 4 years old to hear "Miss Mary!!" at the top of their lungs. Pure love. Unconditional love. Even if you make them mad...1 minute later, they love you still and are persistently asking you to sit by them or give them a hug or high five or telling you some off the wall story about going to eat at McDonald's and getting an awesome Buzz Light Year toy or the dinosaur movie they watched ten times last night.
I cannot wait to be a mom....(sorry Timmy...it's out there...but you already know this). I'm getting little glimpses of God's love through Timmy and through these kids at work. I mean, I realize more and more each day how much I love Timmy, and how much I love my family. They mean the world to me! I can only imagine a parents' love for a child.
I remember being in high school and the thought of "love" seemed like such a fairy tale to me. It was knights and princesses, and ballgowns and pearls. But as I have grown and experienced love, I have realized that the fairy tale has nothing to with it. Love is putting someone else before yourself. It's leaving that last piece of bread on the table because someone else may still be hungry. Love is listening. Love is watching your spouse play XBox for 2 hours. Love is understanding that it is OK for your spouse not to want to watch you play XBox for 2 hours and to do two separate things. There is sacrifice in love, but when you both contribute that sacrifice...beautiful things happen. Love is still so much more. More than I can put into words.
I am so incredibly grateful. I am loved.
I think my issue is a long lasting fear of embarrassing myself or sounding stupid. I'm still quiet, but as I've gotten older...and more mature? maybe?....I've found that I am a little more confident in myself, and I speak out more and more. I think I'll always fear sounding stupid and embarrassing myself.
Maybe that's why I work with kids. They like being silly, and it's ok to sound stupid. You just laugh. No embarrassment...just laughter. Plus the kids move on to something else so quickly that they forget whatever you did that was embarrassing.
I have to say, there is nothing like walking into a room of 10+ 3 and 4 years old to hear "Miss Mary!!" at the top of their lungs. Pure love. Unconditional love. Even if you make them mad...1 minute later, they love you still and are persistently asking you to sit by them or give them a hug or high five or telling you some off the wall story about going to eat at McDonald's and getting an awesome Buzz Light Year toy or the dinosaur movie they watched ten times last night.
I cannot wait to be a mom....(sorry Timmy...it's out there...but you already know this). I'm getting little glimpses of God's love through Timmy and through these kids at work. I mean, I realize more and more each day how much I love Timmy, and how much I love my family. They mean the world to me! I can only imagine a parents' love for a child.
I remember being in high school and the thought of "love" seemed like such a fairy tale to me. It was knights and princesses, and ballgowns and pearls. But as I have grown and experienced love, I have realized that the fairy tale has nothing to with it. Love is putting someone else before yourself. It's leaving that last piece of bread on the table because someone else may still be hungry. Love is listening. Love is watching your spouse play XBox for 2 hours. Love is understanding that it is OK for your spouse not to want to watch you play XBox for 2 hours and to do two separate things. There is sacrifice in love, but when you both contribute that sacrifice...beautiful things happen. Love is still so much more. More than I can put into words.
I am so incredibly grateful. I am loved.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Remember
When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.
For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I'm feeling ghost-like, it's your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist. When I'm feeling sad, it's my consolation. When I'm feeling happy, it's part of why I feel that way.
If you forget me, one of the ways I remember who I am will be gone. If you forget me, part of who I am will be gone.
"Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom," the good thief said from his cross (Luke 23:42). There are perhaps no more human words in all of Scripture, no prayer we can pray so well.
-Frederick Buechner, Listening to Your Life, January 16
For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I'm feeling ghost-like, it's your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist. When I'm feeling sad, it's my consolation. When I'm feeling happy, it's part of why I feel that way.
If you forget me, one of the ways I remember who I am will be gone. If you forget me, part of who I am will be gone.
"Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom," the good thief said from his cross (Luke 23:42). There are perhaps no more human words in all of Scripture, no prayer we can pray so well.
-Frederick Buechner, Listening to Your Life, January 16
Friday, January 7, 2011
Follow Fearless Love
I ended my blog yesterday with TTYL (talk to you later). I remember using that a lot when talking with friends on AIM in high school. We used TTYL, BRB, and LYLAS fairly regularly. I specifically remember LYLAS and NMH in notes we passed at school. I found some old notes in my old room at mom's house not too long ago. Notes about nothing, but at the time the notes were about everything.
I specifically remember watching Winnie the Pooh as a child and Tigger saying "TTFN, ta ta for now!". I think he may have been the original abbreviator of phrases, the antecedent to our now popular text talk.
I'm in Tuscaloosa for the night. I was blessed with a good dinner with Mom and Jamey. I really cannot express how much I love my family. I appreciate them so much more now than I did when I was younger. I didn't realize how amazing they all are or what they really mean to me. Ah, sappy, emotional. But it's true. I have so much love for them it hurts sometimes.
So being at home means sleeping in my old room. It means seeing all the things that I left here. It still blows me away how much "stuff" I didn't bring with me. I'm definitely feeling nostalgic. I found a Bible my mom gave me over 10 years ago. It was stuffed with morning watches from summer camps...from camps I attended as a camper and from camps I worked as a counselor or as a member of summer team.
When the North Alabama Conference Youth Council still planned the summer camps (sr. high mainly) they chose the theme by theme committee. The one year I served on theme committee we got stuck on "Love ______ us". Love blanks us. Hmmmm. It eventually turned into "Follow Fearless Love". Tonight I found the compass that Danny gave each of the team members that year. It still has the verse of the summer attached (and I don't plan on taking it off anytime soon). II John 6 : "....this is the commandment, as you have heard from the beginning, that you follow love."
You may see a pattern here eventually (if you can create a pattern with only two blogs). Love. I think that is what my whole purpose in life is about...not that anyone really ever figures out their true purpose. But if I could figure out a purpose at all, it is to live love, show love, experience love, breath love....fearlessly. Being fearless is easier said than done. For me, let's change the word fear to worry.
That's me. I'm a worrier. not warrior, but worry-er. I worry, then say a breath prayer. The worry always seems to creep in though.
Anyway...needless to say, the bible, the morning watches, the compass and a pile of letters that people sent to me while I was at camp are coming back to Birmingham with me tomorrow. Oh! I can't forget the care notes. I kept every singe care bag I have made....since I was 16 at least. There's a lot of love in those bags. Love.
II John 6 : "....this is the commandment, as you have heard from the beginning, that you follow love."
TTFN
I specifically remember watching Winnie the Pooh as a child and Tigger saying "TTFN, ta ta for now!". I think he may have been the original abbreviator of phrases, the antecedent to our now popular text talk.
I'm in Tuscaloosa for the night. I was blessed with a good dinner with Mom and Jamey. I really cannot express how much I love my family. I appreciate them so much more now than I did when I was younger. I didn't realize how amazing they all are or what they really mean to me. Ah, sappy, emotional. But it's true. I have so much love for them it hurts sometimes.
So being at home means sleeping in my old room. It means seeing all the things that I left here. It still blows me away how much "stuff" I didn't bring with me. I'm definitely feeling nostalgic. I found a Bible my mom gave me over 10 years ago. It was stuffed with morning watches from summer camps...from camps I attended as a camper and from camps I worked as a counselor or as a member of summer team.
When the North Alabama Conference Youth Council still planned the summer camps (sr. high mainly) they chose the theme by theme committee. The one year I served on theme committee we got stuck on "Love ______ us". Love blanks us. Hmmmm. It eventually turned into "Follow Fearless Love". Tonight I found the compass that Danny gave each of the team members that year. It still has the verse of the summer attached (and I don't plan on taking it off anytime soon). II John 6 : "....this is the commandment, as you have heard from the beginning, that you follow love."
You may see a pattern here eventually (if you can create a pattern with only two blogs). Love. I think that is what my whole purpose in life is about...not that anyone really ever figures out their true purpose. But if I could figure out a purpose at all, it is to live love, show love, experience love, breath love....fearlessly. Being fearless is easier said than done. For me, let's change the word fear to worry.
That's me. I'm a worrier. not warrior, but worry-er. I worry, then say a breath prayer. The worry always seems to creep in though.
Anyway...needless to say, the bible, the morning watches, the compass and a pile of letters that people sent to me while I was at camp are coming back to Birmingham with me tomorrow. Oh! I can't forget the care notes. I kept every singe care bag I have made....since I was 16 at least. There's a lot of love in those bags. Love.
II John 6 : "....this is the commandment, as you have heard from the beginning, that you follow love."
TTFN
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Sing it louder
I used to blog, journal, whichever you like to call it. Then life got busy...er, busier. It's really hard to figure out where to start writing. I guess I need to introduce myself to this again. So....who am I?
I am a child of God. I am a wife. I am a daughter. I am a sister. I am a friend. I am a teacher. I am a student. I am passionate about children with special needs. I am passionate about children in general, but that needs a blog dedicated to it all by itself.
I typically find that I can express my feelings best by using song lyrics. You may see a few here. My writing is not nearly as eloquent as Sara Groves or Bebo Norman, and they seem to know me better than I know myself.
I was sitting in the youth room at VHUMC last night talking to Robin about her plans for Wednesday nights during Lent. She is doing different, creative ways to take communion. She got the ideas from http://tabled.ca/ . Check it out. It's going to be really incredible. There is one night where she is talking about "our recipe". She's going to be bringing brownies made with her grandmother's recipe, and I'm making my great grandmother's cookies. The night is not really about a food recipe, but what makes us up, our recipe. And since I was having trouble coming up with something to write about I figure this is a good place to start. It is on my mind at least.
I have some very vivid memories of my great grandmother. We called her Granny. My mom put this cookie recipe in one of our church cookbooks and titled it "Granny Gertrude's Sheet Cookies". I L-O-V-E these cookies, but when I think of my Granny and food, I think of her peanut butter sticks. I can still smell them. In fact, I remember writing my very first descriptive paragraph about the smell of these things in 4th grade in Mrs. Danford's class. Granny died in 1992. I can't remember anyone making them since she died. 18 years and I can still smell them. That's a powerful memory. The night of the recipes at church I get to share a little bit about Granny with the students. I'm going to start with one of the songs that we sing fairly regularly at VHUMC, How Great Thou Art. I absolutely love that song. It's one of those songs that if you were sitting next to Granny while we sang it, she would elbow you and say "Sing it louder". My mom heard her say that frequently. Sing it louder.
It's funny how ramblings that start from nowhere can lead to somewhere. Sing it louder.
I believe in a God who loves unconditionally. I believe in a God who is ever present. I believe in a God who yearns for us to choose him. I like to think of God elbowing me and saying "sing it louder", but not in a shake the bible in your face sort of way....but in a love the world with your whole being sort of way. I'm still working on that.
So, here's my start. Hopefully here I can organize my thoughts. Hopefully here I can let my passions run wild. But for now I've got to pack for Tuscaloosa, and go to bed so I can be functional at work tomorrow.
TTYL
I am a child of God. I am a wife. I am a daughter. I am a sister. I am a friend. I am a teacher. I am a student. I am passionate about children with special needs. I am passionate about children in general, but that needs a blog dedicated to it all by itself.
I typically find that I can express my feelings best by using song lyrics. You may see a few here. My writing is not nearly as eloquent as Sara Groves or Bebo Norman, and they seem to know me better than I know myself.
I was sitting in the youth room at VHUMC last night talking to Robin about her plans for Wednesday nights during Lent. She is doing different, creative ways to take communion. She got the ideas from http://tabled.ca/ . Check it out. It's going to be really incredible. There is one night where she is talking about "our recipe". She's going to be bringing brownies made with her grandmother's recipe, and I'm making my great grandmother's cookies. The night is not really about a food recipe, but what makes us up, our recipe. And since I was having trouble coming up with something to write about I figure this is a good place to start. It is on my mind at least.
I have some very vivid memories of my great grandmother. We called her Granny. My mom put this cookie recipe in one of our church cookbooks and titled it "Granny Gertrude's Sheet Cookies". I L-O-V-E these cookies, but when I think of my Granny and food, I think of her peanut butter sticks. I can still smell them. In fact, I remember writing my very first descriptive paragraph about the smell of these things in 4th grade in Mrs. Danford's class. Granny died in 1992. I can't remember anyone making them since she died. 18 years and I can still smell them. That's a powerful memory. The night of the recipes at church I get to share a little bit about Granny with the students. I'm going to start with one of the songs that we sing fairly regularly at VHUMC, How Great Thou Art. I absolutely love that song. It's one of those songs that if you were sitting next to Granny while we sang it, she would elbow you and say "Sing it louder". My mom heard her say that frequently. Sing it louder.
It's funny how ramblings that start from nowhere can lead to somewhere. Sing it louder.
I believe in a God who loves unconditionally. I believe in a God who is ever present. I believe in a God who yearns for us to choose him. I like to think of God elbowing me and saying "sing it louder", but not in a shake the bible in your face sort of way....but in a love the world with your whole being sort of way. I'm still working on that.
So, here's my start. Hopefully here I can organize my thoughts. Hopefully here I can let my passions run wild. But for now I've got to pack for Tuscaloosa, and go to bed so I can be functional at work tomorrow.
TTYL
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