More to Life

Romans 12:12 Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.




I was privileged to spend a weekend with teens from across southeastern South Dakota for the annual youth convention. In addition to spirituality, there were mini discussions on life. Its been twenty years since I became a full fledged adult and left the confines of academia. Over that time, I have had a variety of careers, addresses, relationships both platonic and romantic, had both dreams come true and be dashed to bits. In other words, I have lived a wondrous life, and that’s something I plan on doing for many years to come.



On the inside, I am still a caring, compassionate person who tries to find the good in others. I love whole heartedly and at 150%. Its not something that I take lightly, nor should anyone. I think because my life has been tempered with both bitter and sweet, I am more aware of the beautiful moments and treasure them. I don’t like them to end, and sometimes I hold on too long to them. There are times when they need to be set free, to share joy and peace throughout the universe, not just in my life. I am fiercely protective of who and what I love the most in my life. That’s just what makes me who I am, both good and bad. The people I have known and the places I have lived and things I have done have made me, well, me.



I am still the same person I was in college: desperately wanting to love and be loved-an incurable romantic. I still listen to a lot of the same music, still laugh myself silly at the same movies and love the same poetry and books. Many of the hobbies that I had in college have continued-hiking, mountain biking, scrap booking and photography, art, crocheting, cooking/baking. My faith has remained on a trajectory that started back then, and while I no longer am pursuing an ordination track, I am still serving in ministry. Family is still of paramount importance. I still want to be that wife that other husbands wish they came home to, with the apron on, a hot meal on the stove and a clean house. I want to be the neighborhood mom still, the house where everyone wants to come play and hang out. I long for romantic walks, dancing in the rain and laughter. I want a candlelight picnic in the backyard and have parties for no reason. I want my dreams, hopes, and desires to matter and for me to be heard. I want to still be pretty in the eyes of who matter, no matter what I really look like. I want to be loved unconditionally.

As you grow up, there are so many twists and turns that you encounter on the path of life. Having a consistent set of values and using faith as a framework allows you to continue on your journey, and not stray too far off the path. Are there mistakes I’ve made? Sure-because I am human. I am falliable (only G-d is perfect and infalliable). Do I regret anything? No, because everything-both good and bad-has made me who I am today.

Mercy

Over the last few years, I have gone from primarily a stay at home wife and then mother, to working full time, to working full time plus a part time plus job to both of those and teaching yoga and cooking classes as well as all the volunteer work I always did. Add to it dealing with health issues, recovering from not just one but two abdominal surgeries, and post hysterectomy hormonal problems, I am not healed physically yet. Emotionally, I am still wrapping my head around a failed adoption attempt that no matter how brutal life with her was, it was still my heart being ripped out of my chest. I still have a house to maintain, a child to raise and the other day to day things that being a wife and mother entail that envelop me. Right now I am at maximum saturation levels beyond compare.


I am not whining, I am stating how it is.

In the past, I had some fall back measures, but I no longer have that strong a support system. The events of the past six months have given me clarity beyond measure with whom I can count on and who truly is there for me. The rug was pulled out from under me, and I no longer able to just pick myself up and dust myself off. I am bruised and bloody from all the battles I am fighting. I feel forsaken and alone, and my soul aches. I cry out from my own personal wilderness:



Like it is written in Psalm 84

My soul yearns, even faints,

for the courts of the LORD;

my heart and my flesh cry out

for the living God.



I feel like my cries are falling on deaf ears.

Its like that scene in the Godfather, just when I think I am out, they pull me back in…in my case, it’s the darkness that seems to surround me. When I need a tender, warm embrace I get the cold shoulder both literally and figuratively. There is nothing worse that putting a hand up for help and having it smacked away. Right now, it feels the little progress I’ve made in some areas is not enough and quite frankly, I currently don’t have anymore to give.

But that’s just temporary.



I know, as it is in Psalm 147:

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

Right now, I am the brokenhearted. I have given the enemy a toe hold in my life, which has allowed my belief system-usually a continuum straight from me to Him-to kink and knot. I am broken, bleeding and hurting beyond measure. It seems as if I haven’t done anything right in my life, because there are a few nay sayers, that I have let be the loudest in the chorus. I am fundamentally a good person, despite my flaws which proves again and again that I am human. I am an awesome mother and my son and I share a special bond. He loves to cuddle with me still, and despite the difficulties each morning and each bedtime brings, we still love through it all. I try my best at keeping house, and try to cook great meals and do all the things that were effortless when I was at home most of the time, and for the most part I am successful. I have to remember those successes when the dark demons attempt to take hold. I know in my heart I have given my best, and quite frankly that is all I have to give.

Weak in the presence of beauty

thanks to the Now Pavillion magazine launch, I had a total make over at Sephora in JC Penny. I have to admit, I was very nervous about the whole thing, because I am not much of a make up person. In fact, a lot of times when I make my self up I look like Steve Martin (a wild & crazy gal, a la The Jerk) loud, brash & obnoxious. My usualy beauty routine in the morning is wash my face, toner, moisturizer and the only make up I wear consistently is blush, eye shadow and Burt's Bees lipstick. There's quite a bit of carnage in the make up bag: failed colors that don't look good on me, eyeliner that punctures my skin (I don't want tattooed eyes),

At Sephora, I got the full treatment. Even though I am in my 40's, there was a lot of product they used on me that I had never heard of, let alone used. For example: primer. Never even knew it existed (actually that's a lie, I had read about it in Vogue) let alone used it. Now, I can't exist without it.

I don't do a lot of eye make up, so the make up artist did a more dramatic eye for me. actually the fact she put mascara and eye liner on together was dramatic enough. The big man wasn't too impressed, but its ok. Once in a blue moon, its ok; but...