Choke

So, I need some prayers, but I want to tell you a story first. 

I could be considered a try-out queen. I have been to my fair share of try-outs for cheerleading and drill team, not recently, mind you, but in my teens. I think there was also a smattering of theatre auditions mixed in there and countless job interviews. Now job interviews I’ve got. I hate to toot my own horn, but if I got to a face to face interview I usually always got the job. Again, I have only had five jobs (not counting part-time gigs) in my life so it is a little easier for the ratio to be high. 

**I am writing this at a coffee shop and there is a man who just sat next to me who is waiting for a date. Possibly blind - maybe online. He is wearing about three too many squirts of cologne and is nervous and all kinds of fidgeting. If he didn’t drive up in a really nice car I would think he was going to run off with my laptop. Okay, judging over.** 

Back to trying out. I grew up in a small town which had a small, small high school (very, very small, like 45 people in a graduating class). You either were in band, played football, were a cheerleader, in drill team or you were in the crowd that I hung out with - you’ve read the story, you know the crowd. As you can probably assume I didn’t want to be where I was - does anyone want to be who they are in high school? I wanted so badly to be on the field at a football games and not in the stands.

**his date is here…she’s wearing as much perfume as he is cologne…great they are staying right next to me. That’s what I get for coming to a trendy coffee shop on a Friday night. I wasn’t expecting outside to be busy, as well.  I’ll keep you updated.** 

Spring of my Sophomore year (ah, the same age as Shelby right now) I tried-out to be one of the Silver Belles (the school drill team). I attended all of the rehearsals and did my best to learn the dance. I am quite sure it was similar to me in Zumba today - hanging out on the back row slightly off beat probably 55% of the time (or 75%), you know. 

**Earbuds are now in - I was hearing too much of their conversation and becoming very thankful that I am not facing dating in my forties.**

Being a part of the drill team was something I wanted so badly and I tried very hard to keep up - I even had extra help to get the moves down. To be honest I was letting the voices in my head throw everything off. You know those things we say to ourself like, “what are you thinking? You can’t do this. You are not as talented as these girls.” I tried my best to stuff the voices and I envisioned myself in the uniform with the white cowboy boots and big hat with silver sequins. Those voices, though, they were the driving force in me watching tv instead of practicing at home. I thought I had done enough and the night before I had song on repeat. 

Tryout day had arrived. I had a friend give me an awesome fishtail braid and was wearing a full-body black spandex body suit - never I again have I worn anything like that. I was nervous, but still knew I had this because I just wanted so bad. We tried out in groups of three and that day our third bailed so it was me and a veteran. 

We did our step routine to Wild Women Do by Natalie Cole - if you watched Pretty Woman you know the song. Today, I can still do the first three sets of eight probably because that evening those three sets were on point, then things fell apart. I was off, I knocked my partner off - it was sad. After that valiant effort I had to do a kick routine to the 80s song, Cars by Gary Numan (go ahead and click on it, have yourself a listen). It’s playing in my ear buds now and I can visualize every kick - imagine a Dallas Cowboys’ Cheerleader kick routine complete with the ending splits. As you might guess, I was off. I was wobbly. I about took my partner’s shoulder out of the socket and I ended with a horrible not really splits, but hurt like hell move. As I am typing this I am having flashbacks from eighth grade cheering leading try-outs where I completely forgot to say “ready, okay” before each cheer and gave then, gave the judges the absolute worst round-off ever imaginable. I told you I was a try-out queen. 

Even though I clearly choked, I just knew the judges would see my passion (you know in all my failed dance steps) and would think I just had try-out anxiety then give me a spot anyway. I knew they would have pity on me. When they posted the numbers that were attached to our spandex get-ups, I searched the blue poster boards twice and then I cried. I hotness, ugly cried all over that school cafeteria. 

I wanted it so badly, I could picture it, but i let me head get in the way of the actual practice that I needed to succeed. This is the story of my life when it comes to try-outs. 

Twenty-three years later, I feel like I am in those same try-outs. I have been given an awesome opportunity and if I make through the “try-out” phase so many years of daydreams will begin to come true. I can’t give you the details, but you may be guessing and you are probably right (or should I say write? wink wink). I just don’t want to get my hopes up, I don’t want anyone else to be disappointed with me if disappointments are meant to happen. 

Lately I am back in that gym - wanting it so badly, but not putting in the practices, not honing the skills - turning in half hearted work and hoping that my passion will show through my crapy dance moves. That’s where I need prayers. I can do this, I have practiced for this - I just need to finish well. I know this is going to be a long process, but I need to make it through try-outs. I don’t want to choke, again. 

And that my friends is why I am freezing my hind end off sitting outside a busier than I ever expected coffee shop (ugh the hipsters, the teenagers and the late forties couple on their date), I am determined not to choke this time.

The 39 Project

Good Morning. 

Well, it may not be morning when you read this, but as I write this it’s 7:30….wait, no, 6:30 am. 

I failed to share one of my biggest birthday gifts with the dog - the ability to get an extra hour of sleep. Don’t you just love this time change? Now if it would spur some cooler weather in NorthWest Houston, I would be delighted! 

Today I am 39. 

Thirty-Nine

Dang. How did that happen? 

I need to take a moment with that number because for some reason 39 is like full on adult. 

This post was originally supposed to be called “Things I don’t want to take into my Forties” or “Things I am leaving in my thirties”. I have been compiling the list (unfortunately in my head) for awhile now. 

The focus is still the same, but I have just be honest a minute. The last few months have been brutal for me. In every area of my life there has be struggles from my faith, to my health, to my marriage to my friendships. I sat at my desk last week and seriously thought, “If I make it to my birthday.” I am very grateful for an amazing husband who knows how to handle life when it’s overwhelming. 

But I can’t do this for another year. 

Wait, hold on, I don’t mean that “I can’t do life for another year”. Please breathe. I have no intentions of ending this party. 

I can’t live in this , excuse my language, crap for another year. I can not continue to half-ass fight the devil for the next year. I have got to get up, put on some armor and go to battle. 

I am not sure if you were with me when I turned thirty, but thirty wasn’t pretty. Thirty sparked a mid-life, led me to dye my hair cherry red and bleach blonde. Thirty was the year I stood up everything that was keeping me down and thirty was the year that my life spiraled out of control. Thirty included an affair, a divorce, a pregnancy, an abortion and a to put a cherry on the calendar year with an arrest in January after I turned 31. If you click on My Story above you can find all the details because I am sure someone who is new to the show just freaked a bit. Let me summarize that 30 was the absolute worst year of my life, so far.  

Shall we move this along? My mother says, yes please! 

Here are some of the things I jotted down that I plan to not take with me into my 40s. 

1. About 40 pounds. I know, everyone’s least favorite subject, weight. I do believe this is less of a vanity thing at this point and more of a health thing. And probably a bit of a vanity thing. I will never have my 20 year old legs, but I can not take this extra fluffiness into my forties. 

2. Money Management Skills of a 20 Year Old.  I am not sure how many times I have said “We are not in our twenties” as we have sat down to figure out where money is coming from to pay for adult style bills. You know, air conditioner repairs, dental work for your children - the things you freak out about in your twenties, not in your thirties. Or at least I had hope to not still be freaking out about them in my thirties. 

3. Fear

     This word has so many subcategories. I am overjoyed by the fact that my anxiety over all has decrease tremendously. There are still days, like Friday, when headlines across Facebook (including the fact that Asps are at an all time high in Houston  and I saw one outside on Tuesday) leave me a bit off-centered. 

This year I want to leave behind the fear of speaking the truth (with grace, of course) and the fear to big things. 

4. Avoidance. Ah, again, so many subcategories that I will not get into because, well, I am avoiding them. Avoidance is my MO, if you haven’t already noticed? It’s not healthy. 

5. My lack of knowledge. I should elaborate here, but I need more coffee. 

6. Whatever block is keeping me from creating. I will find it, I will knock it down and I will regain the part of me that I love so much. Well, I did create that trunk a few weeks ago, so it is still there in someways, but it’s not on fire like it used to be. 

7. The inability to park in my garage. Otherwise known as “My Family Doesn’t Need All This Junk!” 

8. Freaking out when people show up unexpectedly (read with 10 minutes notice). Otherwise know as Keep You House Clean or Get Over Yourself. I seriously freak, but please don’t let that stop you from coming. If me freaking stopped people from coming over, I would truly be alone forever. 

9. Denying my Abilities. The horrible habit that I have for thinking I am NEVER doing a good job at anything. Which is most definitely fueled by number ten. 

10. Seeking approval in All the Wrong Places. I keep waiting for when I am too old to give a crap about what others think of me - I have seen this in women before, it looks so peaceful there, they are so relaxed (and no, they are not dead). 

So, 10 things, at least those are the ten I was able to pull from my mind yesterday. 

I also wrote: now this is just a list - not an action plan- that’s a commitment. Am I ready for that? They are in no way a list of goals for the next year of my life. Yuck, goals! 

Then, as I was getting ready, a memory played in my head. 

I once knew a pastor took an entire year off “work” to read the bible all the way through. 

Two thoughts: a. he must of been financially stable and gifted in money management. b. he had to have been doing more than just reading, he had to have been digging deep. 

But think about it, one year, to focus on one ultimate goal. 

That statement fueled The 39 Project. 

When that popped in my head, you know between my mascara applications, I always pictured some snazzy branding to go with it , but really there are only twenty-four hours in a day. 

So, what do you do when Goals make you run in fear? You create a Project. Because, really, that word is so relaxing. 

The 39 Project. 

The ultimate goal: Me. (that needs some work). 

Really, you are witnessing a brainstorming session minus the flip charts. 

It takes twenty-one days to break a habit (just googled it), so ultimately I would like to focus on one of the areas above for a month over the next year. Yes, I know some of those things will have to reworded, refocused and yes, I know there are 10. I am building in some failure time. Just kidding, I just couldn’t thinking of two more. 

This will be fine tuned, but get ready: each month a different focus for me (and my family). 

In the end, one year from now, I hope to writing to you as someone different. I hope to be stronger, less shattered. This is a must - this is the year to get this all together. 

The Lines in My Life

Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his immense patience as an example for those who would believe in him and receive eternal life. ~1 Timothy 1:15&16. 

This jumped off the page of my bible and spoke to me today. 

It’s very similar to a quote that circulated Facebook about 10 years ago: 

If you can’t be a good example, then you’ll just be a horrible warning

Okay, I am not wallowing in my life, spending my days thinking about what an awful person I am, but I do know that I am stretching His immense patience with me. 

I’ve become Clairee Belcher, “Well, you know what they say: if you don't have anything nice to say about anybody, come sit by me!” 

That is a Steel Magnolias reference, only a select few will understand, for everyone else let me just say more tacky things have left my mouth lately then good things. Not towards one person, or one group or even about anyone, just about life. 

URGH! Blah! Have you ever been downright annoyed by yourself, your actions or lack of actions. Your lack of willpower, no your lack of commitment. 

Just to be clear - I am not cheating on my husband, I am not over eating….well that one isn’t always true, but I am being faithful to all of my commitments except, maybe, that of my calling. 

And in typical fashion I am two days into (and a week behind on homework) a Beth Moore study that is kicking my butt. And making me scream, “Why don’t you know this stuff already?!?” It takes me forever to decipher what Beth is talking about when I have to look up words like rumination, scalene, and sectarianism. Congratulations if you know all of those, you must of scored high on your SATs - I did not. I only slightly recall if I even took my SATs, I believe I did - I mean I did attend college, but you can’t tell that by this horrid rambling full of grammatical errors. 

I am a week past one of the biggest achievements in my career (not really sure you can call it a “career”, but it pays the bills - by bills I mean my shopping). I successfully wrapped a 3 day conference, I did it! Well, I had a really good team, but I made through without losing my mind. Actually, I learned so much, but not about how to run conferences. I was challenged by our speakers. I left torn - I left realizing that I live my life non longer in the grey, I have no squiggle to my line - it’s straight. I guess since more people than my husband read my blog and those you may not speak proficient “Dana” like he does I will elaborate. 

As I left my past life behind and started my new life, about seven years ago I drew a line (I mentally drew a line) or maybe a sliding scale. At one side is (usually on the left for some reason) is the out of control me, the life in shambles me, the drinking until I cannot remember what happened the night before me. For some reason that side always appears as white (you’ll understand in a minute). 

Then, no shocker, the right side I can only describe as my church lady side. Very strict, very ridged, these are the things I do and this is the dark black line to which I judge things - things being actual things and people. White is the lack of that line - nothing is judged, nothing is monitored - it’s just fun all the time! 

When things like going to a bar makes me feel like I am creeping towards the white I run, full speed in to the black, There is no grey, there is no middle.  I am fully aware that my color choices are so backwards.

I fight to find the middle, to take rest in the middle, to find the balance between the really awesome parts of me (both in the white and in the black). 

The same can be said for the squiggle, again, very visual. I feel safe in my life when I am straight, when I am serious, when there is no uniqueness showing - just a perfecting straight line. But at the same time I know that what attracts people to me resides in the squiggles, in my openness, in my freeness, in my take you just the way you are-ness (had to just throw that on there). 

Last week it become beyond apparent to both Matt and I that the grey and the squiggles send me into this anxiety ridden state that is beyond ridiculous. Ridiculously frustrating. My poor husband wants so badly to meet parts of my personality from eight years ago, probably not the part that spent the night in jail me, but the me that can strike up a conversation with a person in a bar and develop an amazing connection (mentally, not sexually - I know someone is thinking it - bar, drinking…you go there, it’s okay). Matt saw glimpses of that me during the conference. 

I have had the absolute privilege to truly get to know the speakers who agreed to be part of the conference this year. I had countless emails and many phone calls. I followed them on social media, I became a cheerleader to their projects and missions before even shaking their hands. And an amazing thing happened, I connected with them, just as I would have eight years ago. For a brief moment there was grey, I let down my guard and the line began to squiggle. 

I fought the church lady from taking over as I embraced Austin, forgetting briefly, even laughing about the naive me that almost joined a cult in that same city 20 years earlier. (read that story here)

I so want to remain in a grey squiggle filled life. I can see that me, she’s awesome. She comes from a place of love, not harsh judgement. She shows you the gospel and doesn’t beat you down with the law. She’s equal parts awkward and intelligent. She thrives when hearing other people’s stories and doesn’t bat an eyelash when talking about the serious stuff. She cries when she see her friends achieve amazing things and she cries for those that need to be lifted up. She oozes with creativity even outside of the craft room and she isn’t afraid of her own voice, but realizes when she may need to hit mute of a moment. 

I may be wrong, but there is someone who just read that and said, “umm, isn’t that already you?” Most of it, yes, but it takes a hell of a lot of effort to remain as her and that has got to change. I fight running to the black because that black line is safety. It is a dark extra large sharpie black line that I drew across my life when I decided to get straight (see the lines go together). I pray for the courage, to trust myself as much as God has trusted me with His gospel. 

The Story of an Almost Cult Member

So, I have had writers block this morning and decided to stop refreshing Facebook and go put on my face (ie my make-up). I listen to podcasts while I get ready because, really it’s the only quiet time (usually) that I have where I am sitting and can focus, but not focus (understand that?). Anyway, today on a podcast I was listening to (which I am sure I’ll share with you later - once I finish listening) the comment was made that if someone could live anywhere in Texas, they’d pick Austin. To which I made a snarky face and thought “last place I’d want to live.” Being a Dallas girl, I could never picture myself in Austin. Also, a majority of the people I grew up with on South Padre Island are now in Austin fueling my desire to avoid that area, but really I think the main reason is the one trip I took when I was a senior in high school. That is the story I want to share with you today. 

During my senior year (in 1996 - yikes) I was a member of Future Homemakers of America - which is so me now, but was so far from me then. I am not sure why I joined except I thought I needed to be in a club and my interior design (my favorite class in school) teacher led the group. In the spring, before I graduated, we got to go to Austin for the weekend to attend the Future Homemakers of America Texas Conference (I am quite sure that isn’t what it was called), but oh man Austin, I was so excited. Because at that time in my life Austin was cool, it was eclectic and free! And there were boys going, not sure why they were a part of Future Homemakers, but hell, I didn’t care, they were boys! 

I roomed with a friend who was just as much trouble as I was at the time. We received our first lecture not shortly after checking in to our hotel by our teacher, “ladies, I did not get us smoking rooms, so you need to please take your cigarettes outside.” I think we also had beer hidden under the bed - it was lovely and the reason why I think twice about Shelby going on school trips. 

The first day we were there we were unleashed on the University of Texas Campus, unsupervised and I am just in shock typing that, how in the world did they get by with just saying, “Okay, go have fun and meet us back in the library at 3 pm.” 

As many of my peers where taking their spending money to the Gap on the corner I was going in and out of used clothing stores looking for awesome vintage wares you can only find in Austin (or so I thought at the time). It was in the midst of my vintage euphoria when I met him. This dreamy blonde hair blue eyed guy who quickly struck up a conversation with me. He was selling cassette tapes (yep, the nineties) of music that him and his friends produced. He was so handsome and so into what I had to say that I bought two tapes and a very back roots style magazine that detailed their lives and how they lived. I pretty much gave this guy every penny of my spending money as we stood on the busy sidewalk of Guadalupe Street. 

I quickly, popped it into my walkman and listened to it all night. I thought it was so awesome. I read every page of the newspaper quality magazine, I was hooked, I wanted to know these people, hang-out with these people. I shared it with my friends during our next day in Austin, they thought it was super cool and very “Austin” as well. 

I don’t remember too much else from that trip, we skipped all of our conference activities and walked to the capital - we thought we were all that and bag of chips because we spent all day wondering the halls that we thought were off limits (they probably are now). 

As soon as I got off the bus back in Dallas, I handed my mom the magazine saying, “Isn’t this just the coolest thing you’ve ever seen? And they all live together on this big farm and they make this awesome music. I really could see myself living there, wouldn’t that be cool?” 

Her response, “Dana, this is cult and they are living on a commune.” 

At that time I had no idea what either of those words meant other that hearing a baptist preacher saying something about a “hippy commune” once during a sermon. I was that girl, I was the type of girl cults look for, a girl that was a little too free spirited for her own good and oh, so trusting. 

So, even though I know that it’s not a fair judgment, Austin will always be the home of the cult that almost sucked me in. I am pretty open and could be considered eclectic, but Austin is just a bit too much for me (or at least the conservative girl who also lives inside of me thinks so). 

I jumped on google after writing this and located the group, it was Zendik Farm which at the time was in Bastrop. They were known for passing out their magazine in the area of Austin where I was and the pictures I have found are pretty similar to those that sucked me in. What a scary thought - I was so close to having a seriously bad life changing experience. 

Yes! I am Avoiding You, 2016!

Yes, 2016 I am ignoring you! I am hoping to wake-up and you’ll be gone because I wasn’t done with last year yet. I am quite sure I didn’t complete even half of my 2015 goals and there are still 6 books in my 2015 books to read stack. I am turning 39 in 2016, 39!!!! Wasn’t I just 29? There are many days where I stop and go, wait? I graduated from high school how many years ago? No, way…I thought it was just 10 years ago, how in the world have I been out of high school for 20 years?!?! 

I can’t handle it! Morgan will be three in like two months! And the other day we talked about Shelby being 15 in September (I know we have some time, but really?)! 

I’ve let myself slip into a bit of New Year funk lately between my dread of goal setting (but desperate need to) and the weather in Houston. It’s 8 pm on the 7th day of January and it’s 58 outside Today’s high was 68. I miss seasons.  I planned on goal setting and writing all of this on Tuesday, but then I spent most of the morning counseling myself through the fact that it is okay for me to block people on Facebook - I am allowed to do that, it’s my prerogative.  The world will not stop spinning if I block someone. 

So, I am sure that my plans for 2016 will evolve as they did for 2015, but here is kind of what I am thinking. 

I envision an amalgam (big word - that spell check corrected for me - don’t ask how I was spelling it). When I ask, “who do I want to be in 2016?” My answer is always, “a mixture of pieces of myself from years past”.

I want to maintain the openness and transparency I achieved in 2015. 

I want to recapture the creativity I had in 2013. 

I want to read and study as much as I did in 2011. 

I want to be as creative with my wardrobe was I was in 2010. 

I want the body I had in 1998 - too much to ask?

I want to thrive in my blogging community as I did in 2010. 

I want to be intertwined with like mined, creative women as I was in 2013. 

2013 was just a good year. It was my first year as a stay at home mom, I opened DanaRae Designs (which will relaunch this year) and I was just so tuned in everywhere. 

I want to touch the earth, break it in my hand, grow something wild and unruly. 

I want to sleep on the hard ground, the comfort of your arms, with a pillow of bluebonnets and blanket made of stars.

Ha! Sorry, it was all the “I want”s coupled with 1998 and the fact that Shelby now listens to the Dixie Chicks - I just couldn’t help myself. 

So, that’s what I have so far for 2016. All of this is a bit broad for goal-setting, so I need to sit, reflect and elaborate. Stay tuned, I’ll get in gear soon. At least all my christmas trees are down and I spent most of the morning sweeping up fake pine needles - I am sure I will still be finding them in June. (My Christmas trees are 20 years old, too…how did that happen? Oh how I miss 1996). 

The Pep-Talk

Right now I just need to write. As I start this I have no clue what then end will look like, at all. I woke up this morning in tears with an overwhelming feeling of depression. I wondered if this is what my Meme felt like when she struggled with depression. Just a blank sense of where it is coming from, just sad, just overwhelmed with life and the thoughts that go through your head. Not suicidal thoughts, just the devil’s foothold on my mind due most likely to hormones and a very long week. 

For some reason I’ve become a closet over achiever. I say “closet” because from the outside you’d have no clue, but on the inside I WANT SUCCESS! I am not really sure what “success” is though. I just want to do “my best” on everything from writing and videos to a clean house and meal planning. I want to be a good friend, a good wife, a good mom, a good daughter all the while I think “what is a good me?” I am probably not making sense what so ever, but I will continue because when I write it releases the devil’s power (or his sense of power or my sense that he has power). 

I suffer from comparison and have a Facebook/Instagram/YouTube addiction where you see the rosiest parts of everyone’s lives. I’m comparing my un-filtered cluttered bedroom to their perfect living areas. My clogged pores to their “flawless” skin. You name it, most days I’ll compare myself to it. 

Then I stop. I have to say “stop, you’re being so stupid! Look around you.” A post comes across my TimeHop app reminding me of life 7 years to 8 years ago and I remember how far I’ve come. And man, my blessings. I have three amazing daughters who each day bring me such joy, but make me frantically search for the pause button because with all my business life is passing too fast. I am blessed to have a husband who even though running late for work will sit and hug me while I say, “I just don’t know why I am crying.” I have amazing friends who love me even when I have not seen them for a year and really it feels like I hadn’t missed a thing. And I’ve been blessed with new friends who will come to my aid even when I asked them to paint and cut foam till they are as exhausted as I am. 

I am blessed! Do you hear that devil? I’ve GOT THIS! I KNOW that I AM LOVED! I am loved not only by the people I’ve just list, but by an amazing God who has redeemed me from the crap you are trying to pull me back into! I take back “I’ve got this” and lay down “He’s got this!” Because no matter how big the mountains may feel in my life HE HAS GOT THIS!!! And that is an amazing feeling! 

Wow, that’s an amazing feeling. Breathe…I need that little pep-talk. Now off to make breakfast, put on a some make-up and kick today’s butt!!!!

My Story: The Really Hard Parts

I feel like I’ve told my Shelby story over and over again. Even though I’d love to dive into it again and share the differences that I’ve felt having a child alone and having children in a loving marriage. I want to share with you the feelings of being a mom when I thought my entire world was rocked. I want to share with the grace and loving support I received from some amazing people. I want to share with you how my relationship with Jesus grew during my pregnancy with Shelby, but today I feel like I am called to share something different. Something more. 

During one of our nightly walks (I call them therapy walks) Matt and I were talking about where my stories will go next - what I will share with you next. It’s correct that I continue and share with you how I found myself to be a single mother at 23.  But as we walked Matt presented a question to me

Why did you have Shelby? If you were single and this was unplanned why did you follow through? 

This may sound shocking coming from a Pastor’s son, but bear with me for he knows more about the paths my life has led then you do at this moment (I am planning on getting into those areas today). 

I am not sure if he was thinking I would say because of my beliefs I kept Shelby, because I would not even imagine doing anything, but having and keeping Shelby forever. 

That humid night as we rounded the corner to the lake I laid a pretty heavy load on my sweet husband. 

I kept her because I terminated a pregnancy when I was 14. 

I think with that sentence a lot of things became clearer to him. I do plan to write later about how this journey of me sharing my stories has affected my family - just wanted you to know. I do have to give you a spoiler - me sharing my stories has made me see Jesus so much more through my husband. It has reaffirmed over and over again that God planned for me to be right here, to be Matt’s wife. 

Matt doesn’t hesitate to show me love even when I’ve said “that’s my entire story”, but later am able to release more hurt and share. It’s a trust thing and I strongly think that Jesus is telling me that not only can I trust Him to lead me through this journey, but I can trust Matt with my hurts, with the spots that are not completely healed, that still hurt 23 years later. 

You see, I’ve given these hurts to others, but have not received the same response. I’ve been shamed, not forgiven. So, I lived a life where I remember in silence each July that I would be celebrating a birthday - this year my child would have been 18, this year my child would have been 21, this year my child would be 23. It’s not easy and I don’t think it’s supposed to be. 

I was so so young when I became pregnant by my second boyfriend. I kept the secret for a long time before it came out. And a  decision was made and my pregnancy was terminated. 

I beg you to not judge, but listen for understanding - can I ask that of you? 

So, when I became pregnant with Shelby termination was an option, but it was not something I was going to go through again. You see, I am not sure how others’ experiences were, but it was a horrible experience for me that has yet to leave my memory. I had a sonogram technician who strongly tried to sway my decision by showing me my child. This did not help the situation, but is ingrained into my head - not sure if she realized or maybe she did. The extent of my sedation was something similar to laughing gas therefore I felt every scrap and every tug. I screamed in pain during the entire process begging for it to be over. It was horrible and I would not wish it on anyone. Also, looking back I probably needed after care - not for my body, but for my soul. I needed to understand what just happened and how it would affect my life. 

We are told that God knows our beginning and our end, that he knows how our life will play out - does this mean that he knew I would walk this path? I feel that if I got a do-over I’d change many things in my life, but feel (and I may be wrong) that God had a plan for this. Not that He planned it, but He had a plan for me afterwards. Am I making sense? I am not trying to sugar coat this at all. With the way we rate sins in our society, I’ve broken a big one. I am thankful that with Jesus our sins have no rating system and I’ve been redeemed. 

I spent years, I mean years saying I would NEVER terminate another pregnancy. I would always say I was pro-life for myself, but pro-choice for others - I really dislike those terms, there is so much more to this than those two labels. I can say, I strongly suggest avoiding the word, “never” in your life. Because  what I am about to tell you has been stopping me from writing, but is the entire reason why I’ve been on a mission to share my story. And I normally wouldn’t put this much (over a span of so much time) into one post, but I have got to get this out. I’ve got to get this done. 

When I was thirty, I left my marriage of almost four years (I’ll get into more of that later) and started a relationship with a guy I had known from South Texas. He was freshly out of prison  and I fell right back into co-dependancy. I found out I was pregnant and at first it was the greatest thing in the world, because we were in love. Shortly after I became pregnant it became perfectly clear that this guy that I put so much of my life into had developed (or restarted) a strong meth addiction. In a period of a month things got seriously worse, I had things stolen from me, I was put into harmful situations for me and for Shelby. I was trying everything to find a way out then he was arrested. I was pregnant and single again. I didn’t think I could do it - raise another child on my own. I didn’t think I could afford it, I didn’t think I could mentally handle it especially since I was already being treated for suicidal feelings by a doctor due to the situation I was in (more on that later). I did the only thing I thought I could do to get out of this mess I created, I terminated my pregnancy. At thirty, I did what I said I’d never do again. There is no way to sugar coat that, I can’t blame it on being a child or having another person make decisions for me. I can only say that I was painfully far from God and I so did not see clear path back. I acted out of fear - fear of the unknown - of what my life would look like. 

So, that’s my story. I’m broken - broken more than most, but I’ve been redeemed. Redeemed - that’s not a token word that I throw around to make myself feel better. It’s taken me awhile to get here, to understand grace. To know in my heart that I am not the person I once was - that I am not my mistakes. Yes, I said I am still healing mainly because writing brings back all the feelings again. I’ve sat quiet for so long with these stories that I have to scrap off scabs to get them out.

I’ve sat through many, many discussion about abortion or shall I say I’ve sat while others have had discussions. They talked the laws, the prevention, how we can stop this from happening. I know people who march, who stand in front of clinics, who have strong feelings on this subject. All along I’ve sat quiet because I have no words for where my life as led. All I can say is that when you have those discussions today you now know someone who has been through this, who lives with the pain and wishes things were different. 

Hotmess, Hooligans and My Cell Phone

I am sitting here today knowing that I need to write. I need to get out more stories and help others, but It’s hard some days to face my past without fear of what it will mean to my future. Matt told me to just keep going “what’s the next part of your life?” “what is the next story?” 

I love hearing from everyone who is following along with me during this time, but at the same time it scares me. I am like “oh no, you’re reading this. Please don’t stop being my friend!” Even though I pray that during this process, that God is taking me through, I won’t lose any of you, I know that my story could possibly strike a nerve that hurts you as well. 

So for today let’s not go too deep. Let me tell you about a recent story. 

How about when I called my poor husband during his busy day at work and told him “A Hooligan stole me cellphone!” in a tone that meant drop everything and come track him down! 

Yesterday, I met Emily and the boys at the lake near our house (I am starting think they are ponds, not lakes, but maybe lakes - anyway they are man made bodies of water that have fish and ducks). We normally meet twice a week to walk and to have our therapy sessions with each other. I just listen, but Emily, she gives me some serious therapy sessions (I should start paying her). 

Toward the end of our time together. Bekah had her first public potty accident as she was climbing up to take one more trip down the slide. It was stressful to say the least. Since she was soaked down to her white easter shoes (because you know that is the perfect footwear for a park) I let her ride in the stroller while Morgan walked. Now, Morgan (God love her) has two speeds: run as fast as her little legs will let her or little old grandma. Of course, since I was in a hurry to get Bekah to the comfort of our car Morgan chose little old grandma and it took us much longer than normal. We also had to stop to look at every turtle and duck along the way. 

Before we crossed the street to our cars Emily and I compared Fitbit steps to praise each other for sweating our hinny-es off in the Houston humidity. (mine is always off and Emily is always ahead of me - I think it’s the stroller). I am quiet sure I slide my cellphone back into the crease in my stroller’s canopy because that is where I keep it safely while I walk. Since Bekah was still in the stroller (all 35 pounds of her), I had to pick up Morgan to cross the street (because she was not ready to leave). It was a sight probably. Me pushing the stroller with one hand and trying to hold up a fighting kid - we’ve all been there right?  I safely got the girls in the van, said my goodbyes to Emily and drove home. 

As I pulled into my drive way I thought “urgh I left me cellphone in the stroller again.” Yep, this happens quite often. After getting Bekah out and sending her inside to take her pee soaked clothes off I stopped by the trunk to get my phone before getting Morgan out of her seat. I opened the canopy - no phone. I went to  the front seat - no phone. I looked by Morgan’s seat - no phone. Oh crap! I can’t afford a new phone right now! I quickly got Bekah back in the car and headed straight back to the lake. I scanned the street as I pulled up to where I had been parked before, no sign of the phone. I got out, looked in the grass, no phone. I even asked a fat duck who waddled up hoping for more bread, “have you seen my phone?”

I got back in the car and went across the street where I had checked my Fitbit steps. I kicked my feet through the grass, no phone. I started to freak a bit. I checked through the van, again no phone. (I keep saying car, but Shirley is a van - yep, she has a name). I quickly (but safely) drove home (less than 5 minutes) and grabbed my ipad. This is where I stress to you the importance of the Find iPhone app - it’s a big deal when you lose your phone. I found my phone, but it was in a neighborhood by the lake and it was MOVING! That is when I first thought, Oh my goodness, some hoodlum stole my phone. Where they watching me? How did they get it so quickly?  I watched in horror as my phone traveled though the neighborhood to a convenient store down the street. Yep, I threw the girls back in the van and head down there. I am not sure what I was planning on doing looking like a hot sweaty mess not to mention having a kid in the back seat wearing just cinderella panties and a starwars t-shirt. I drove through the parking lot and eyeballed everyone - no one seem to look glittery. You know a “I just took someone’s iPhone” look. There weren’t really any hoopty cars because you know that is what a cellphone stealer drives, so I decided to head home. 

Since my iPad runs off of wifi the map popped back up again as soon as pulled into the driveway, now my phone was at the edge of a gated community between my house and the major highway. “Maybe they dumped it” I thought, so I backed out (safely - I just knew I’d get in a wreck with no phone and the before mentioned hot mess state) and headed that way. I slowly drove around the entrance hoping I’d see my navy Pray More Worry Less phone case in the grass. I found nothing. 

I headed back to my drive way just to see my phone at an elementary school. I mean, really? It was going all over the place. I keep using the play sound feature on the phone which emits a loud sound from the phone so you can find it. I also had started Lost Mode earlier which included a message and Matt’s number for them to call when my phone was found. Or as I thought when the criminals couldn’t handle the loud noise and wanted to turn themselves in. 

It was at this point when I used my FaceTime audio to call Matt at work. I was in tears, “Some hooligans (or I could have said hoodlums) stole my phone! What am I going to do?” He was at a loss, pretty much there is nothing that we could do, but watch it travel around the map of our area. I was heart broken especially since I haven’t been able to backup my phone in months - so many pictures. 

I went inside (of course after getting the girls out of the van) and just stared at the map. When I saw my phone in a neighborhood next to our church and changed my lost message to say “Please please please stop. Give me my phone back. You can take it to St John. They know me there. Just please give it back” like I was pleading for the life of my child. Then my iPad rang. Matt said “go to the CVS. There will be a Fedex truck there. He has your phone.” Praise the Lord! 

My hot-mess self loaded my poor girls up again and met a Fedex delivery guy in the parking lot. “Do you know where I found your phone?” he asked. “In the middle of the street?” I asked. “IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET” he said in a scolding tone and then laughed. I started laughing and said “I just realized why it keep traveling everywhere - you were making deliveries - ha!” He told me that it keep going off, but the alert didn’t come up except for my pathetic plea at the end. 

Looking back I wish I got his name, his card or something. I owe that Fedex guy. He saved me and I could have just hugged him (and that’s big coming from me). Moral of the story don’t put my cellphone in the canopy of my stroller and don’t jump to conclusions about the people who actually save you! 

Hey, at least Bekah’s theory wasn’t correct either when she said, “Mom did a big duck take your phone?” Trust me as I saw my phone travel all over the place I thought about it for a minute - I’ve been watching way too many cartoons. 

Sharing My Story

So, last week while I was telling you about Kara Tippetts passing I shared a video with you where she spoke at a Church Planting conference. Did you watch it? 

It’s ok if you didn’t. I still think you should and you can find it here: https://youtu.be/ZKARuh5vAVY

But you don’t need to before you continue reading. Wow…I’m making this really difficult. 

In that message Kara tells the audience the Power of Your Story. Meaning your’s and mine and her’s too. 

Telling your story has the Power to do Three Things (and many other things). Kara said:

Telling your story has the power to:

draw someone into faith with Jesus

deepen someone’s walk with Jesus

encourage someone into leadership (meaning ministry)

Now, long before watching this video God has been pulling at me to share my story - my complete story. Many of you reading this know parts, I’ve even filled you in on pieces right here in my blog. I am ready to give it up, to let it all go and let Jesus shine through my story. Or let you see how Jesus has worked in my life and how the word GRACE has such a big part in all of that. 

Don’t get too excited, though, it’s not going to happen tonight and you may not see it this week, but this week is such a great time to start this journey. Holy Week (the week that leads up to Easter) is always a solum time for me since I became fully aware of the sacrifice that God gave for me through Jesus Christ. I’m unworthy, as we all are, of his amazing grace, but you know what? I still get that gift even though I’ll never be fully worthy to receive it - I will alway be broken while on this side of Heaven. 

Wow… I started to preach there for a minute (in a good way). 

You’ll have to bear with me through this process because with all of this brings some major fear. In Kara’s memorial service someone comment that she “did not protect herself and was willing to be hurt” as she share herself with the world. She was real and gave that pure heart and soul to people even though she may be hurt in the process. 

I have to be prepared to be hurt and be okay with that because honestly I will probably tell you something, if not many things, that will change the way you see me and that is okay. In the end, it will be awesome if you still like me, but I ultimately want you to see Jesus through my story. And if you see Jesus, but can’t see me the same then that’s okay. It is all good. 

Today I am giving all my fear about this process to God. The fear of rejection. The fear of hurting my family. The fear just be vulnerable. Going through this process without over defending my actions at every turn. The fear of where this will take me next - the unknown. All of those are going up to him and I am praying my heart out and repeating Proverbs 3:5-6 over and over again. 

Now, you could say (and I know that some of you are). “Dana, really? You don’t have to do this. You don’t need to go airing your dirty laundry for everyone to read. What will that do for your future? What will people think?”

To that I say that I believe 110% that I’ve been call to share my story. There is someone (maybe more than one person, but one is fine with me) that needs to hear this. There is someone who is as broken as I was and needs to know that Jesus loves you and it’s a love that is so amazing. I love that fills those holes that sin has eaten into your heart. And He loves you right there in the yuck! You don’t have to come as far as I am today to feel that love - He’s got you right where you are. I SO wish someone told me that 20 years ago, 13 years ago, and 8 years ago. I wish someone told me that at 14 even. There is so much more to life then the temporary love you receive through teenage relationships. 

 I need to stop because the one thing I do not want to do is just vent this all out here. I want to get out, but I want it to be concise for you and not me rambling on like I am laying on a therapists sofa. I want to make sure things come across clear to you. I hope you understand that. 

For today, please pray for me. Please pray that I listen to God speaking to me daily and not get confused when the devil starts messing with me (because he will). Please pray for peace as I start this journey. 

And please forgive any major typos on this post. Matt is not hear to read this and I really really want to get this posted this evening. 

Thank you for your love and support! 

Give Up or Fight?

Right now I am at a cross roads. Don’t worry, it’s not about anything major. I feel like I’ve been shown pieces of what I should do with my life. I believe that I am meant to help empower women and show them the true power for grace that we’ve been given through Jesus Christ. 

Through the past year I’ve seen a one particular outlet to be a part of my ministry, but for the past couple of weeks I’ve been thinking “well, that probably won’t happen here.” I am probably not making sense to you at all and I apologize for that, but it’s perfectly clear to me - just hang with me a moment. 

This morning the urge came back to me again. It was a “I can do this! I can make this happen. I have jump all the hurdles and push through all the obstacles and make this work.” Then I stop. I stop because something inside asks “who am I doing this for? Do I want this group for the benefit of other women or more for my own pleasure. Can I have it both ways?” Can I? Can I do something or start something because it really benefits me and because it will also benefit others? I believe so. The question really is, is this a vanity thing or a God thing? Yikes. How did that questions just come out of my mouth? Do I want to start a new area of ministry because I want to lead something, be a part of something, show what I can achieve or because God is calling me to do so? 

Still Yikes. That is such a hard question. So, how do I know God is talking to me?

As I sat in front of my computer this morning starting and deleting emails to our Family Life Minister I thought, “Is God talking to me? Is it Him who is telling me to push so hard for this or am I being swayed by Satan?” I sat with my head in my hands knowing I had read this before. Which book? Which bible study? As I dug through our library of books (the benefit of not getting rid of books) I found it!

In her bible study, What Happen When Women Say Yes to God, Lisa Terkeurst gives us five key questions to help us determine if we are hearing God or Ourselves. 

Does What I am hearing line up with Scripture?

Is it consistent with God’s character?

Is it being confirmed through messages I am hearing at church or studying in my quiet times?

Is it beyond me?

Would it please God?

So Does what I am hearing line up with Scripture? 

Well, in Matthew 28:19-20 (The Great Commission) Jesus calls us to make disciples and to teach them to obey everything he has commanded us. Also in First Corinthians 12 we are told that we are all interconnected as the body of Christ. We are meant to be together in community.  So the answer is yes to this question. 

Is it consistent with God’s character? 

Terkeurst says, “When you feel God speaking to you, ask yourself: Is what I am hearing consistent with God’s love, joy, peace, etc?” She is say that God’s character is represented in the Fruit of the Spirit which are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Now, that’s something to think about. I believe that it is, but at the same time I am questioning my vanity in the situation. I am pushing too hard to achieve things and not waiting for God’s timing? 

Let’s move to question three: Is it being confirmed through messages I am hearing at church or studying in my quiet times? 

Our church is very much looking at missional living. Missional Living - It’;s not a new term, but it was new to me. You see to me missional brings me to Missions and Mission trips then I am thinking Kenya or when my husband went to Russia in high school. My understanding (and I say my understanding meaning that I could be off, I suggest you ask someone else for their opinion as well) is that Missional Living really centers around the Great Commission that I mentioned earlier (Matthew 28:19-20). I also found this explanation: a Christian term that in essence describes a missionary lifestyle. Being missional includes embracing the posture, the thinking, behaviors, and practices of a missionary in order to reach others with the message of the gospel. 

So, the answer to number three in my case is, yes, as well. 

Is it beyond me? No, it is in my scope of knowledge and pretty much right up my alley. 

Would it please God? Yes, but only if it were for the correct reason. The follow-up question would be, Is it something I should take on? Is my plate already full with what God wants me to handle? Would added this push something that was more important to him off my plate? I am piling more on then what He intends for me? 

So, my friends, the answer to this conundrum for me is prayer. Prayer, Prayer and more Prayer. For I believe that if I give it to him (which I believe I am kind of am now by getting it all out) he will show where where to go - what path to take. 

Give Up or Fight? Not sure, I am waiting for God’s response. 

Comparison and Feeling Left Out

Bear with me as I write this (or as you read it) I will probably ramble, but I hope to make some sense. I am a strong believer that there are things that go in my journal and things that get blogged. This is in that grey area in between and I really hope that me being honest with you about my struggles may help you (or someone) as well. In saying that, I already know that I will not have some divine awaking in this blog post. I know that this is an area of my life that I’ve struggled with for years and am still battling. 

Okay, Dana, let’s get on with it. 

This bible verse has been haunting me. Ha, should I even say it that way? It seems like every time I open my bible I turn to this chapter and there it is- which is kind of funny since the tab for this book of the bible was ripped off years ago and I am surprised I can even find where it begins.  I read NIV, but over a year ago I wrote down the Message translation of this passage in my bible because it spoke to me. And now it’s haunting me - lovely. 

Galatians 6:4-5

4-5 Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don’t be impressed with yourself. Don’t compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.

I love it! It’s almost like part of an inspirational speech. I can see Paul walking across a large stage surrounded by thousands of people say “Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best WITH YOUR OWN LIFE!” And the the entire arena breaks into applause. WooHoo! I’m right there, but wait it’s not that easy. 

First part - make a careful exploration of who YOU are and the work YOU have been given

If you’ve been around for a bit you probably know that I am on that journey of exploring exactly who I am and the work I’ve been given. As I type this today I have a strong belief that I am meant to minister to women, to tell women they are more than their mistakes and to show them the true beauty of grace. I am also meant to be a mother and that includes my current journey of being a mother to a teenager and two toddlers - you know the laundry, the cooking, that diaper changes and potty training - all that good stuff. I have to remember that my roll as a mother may be what God wants me to do now. Even though my heart is in ministry, it may not be my time at this moment - I think that’s that careful exploration of the work you’ve been given. 

Since Paul says “and sink yourself into that” I believe that’s being accomplished right now since I’m writing (ministry) and doing laundry (mother/wife). Ah, the best for both worlds. 

Ok, what does he say next, Don’t be impressed with yourself. Yikes, well, I think I’ll cover that in just a bit. 

Don’t compare yourself with others - Bingo - that is the line that I need to hover on a bit (a bit meaning a very long time). Theodore Roosevelt said “Comparison is the thief of joy” and by golly he was so right. I feel that needs to be tattooed on me somewhere so that I have another constant reminder. 

Urgh! I dislike comparison so much, but yet I live it. I compare myself to my sister, to my friends, to the woman in front of me at HEB. It’s the horrible cycle that I’m trying to stop. And let me tell you that when I compare I always come out on the bottom - meaning I compare then I beat myself up. Have you done this? 

In the blogging world there are so many amazing women who do amazing things and are so talented. Some have degrees, some do not. Some have lived through horrible tragedies, some have not. I can always find something that I just hone in on. Look at her living room, look at clothes, look at her body compared to mine, look how successful she is, look at her faith, listen to the way she speaks. 

I am telling you this is my biggest area of prayer right now - this is the biggest sin I deal with at this time in my life. 

I am reading Lies Women Believe as party of a bible study and what Nancy Leigh Demoss says here really got to me:

The fact is, we do not hate ourselves, nor do we need to learn to love ourselves. We need to learn how to deny ourselves so we can do that which does not come naturally - to truly love God and others. Our malady is not “low self-esteem” nor is it how we view ourselves; rather, it is our low view of God. Our problem isn’t so much a “poor self-image” as it is a “poor God-image.” Or need is not to love ourselves more but to receive His incredible love for us and to accept His design and purpose for our lives. 

Once we have received His love, we will not have to compare ourselves to others; we will not focus on “self” at all. Instead, we will become channels of His love to others. 

You see that part where she says “Once we’ve received His love” and truly loving God, I believe I’ve got that, but she’s saying I don’t because I still struggle with comparison. You agree or disagree? 

What gets me is last night as my best friend was trying to back out on a great opportunity because she comparing herself to others, I (me - the girl here telling you that this is her biggest sin) was able to  walk her through it and show her that she is Amazing! Because you know what she is and I love her dearly. Why can’t I turn that around on myself? Am I supposed to or does that go back to Paul saying, Don’t be impressed with yourself?

All this head drama has put me into a place of hurt recently. I’ve let myself get overly hurt by something that probably shouldn’t hurt. Without details, I am feeling a bit left out, uninvited, a bit like I’m 13 again (Oh man I can’t stand my early teen years - so many stories for another day). And I don’t know why I’m letting it get to me - we are talking full on tears - poor Matt. I am not sure he realized how much female drama would be in his house when we met five years ago. 

You know what I keep coming back to

Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.

It sounds so much like the words I’ve spoken to Shelby, You focus on your life and your goals, and your abilities and your gifts and don’t worry so much with what others are doing. It hurts to be left out, but know that God has a purpose for that as He does with everything else. I am not meant to be there - I am meant to be here. And here is good. 

ahhh, exhale. This is still a battle. A real, raw battle that I need to deal with and I need to conquer. A battle I hope to show my girls doesn’t need to be - comparison isn’t fun most of the time especially when you are comparing your uniquely made life with someone else’s uniquely made life. God never meant us to all be the same and God surely never meant for our paths to look the same, so why do I care if mine is different from yours? Have I not truly embraced Christ’s love for me? Is Nancy Leigh DeMoss correct? 

Get Ready 2015, I Have Big Plans for You!

My Mission, should I choose to accept it, is to find peace with exactly who

and what I am. To take pride in my thoughts, my appearance, my talents, my flaws

and to stop this incessant worrying that I can’t be as I am. 

~Anais Nin

I saw this quote on Instagram last week and it pretty much sums up what I want 2015 to be like. 

Get ready 2015, I have big plans for you! 

I don’t want to say that this is the year that I will be myself, since I always have been, but I am hoping that the pruning that happened in 2014 will allow wonderful blooms to grow in 2015. (cheesy? maybe…yes). 

I really don’t like resolutions because I always break them, so I am thinking 2015 goals or maybe 2015 priorities. Hmmm, I like priorities, but I will need to elaborate to more that just a list, right? Yes. So, here we go!

First and Foremost my top priority is God. If you just rolled your eyes, then maybe this isn’t the blog for you. So what does that mean, making God my top priority? 

It means that my daily, weekly, monthly routine will include:

1. Devotions: daily devotions and devotions with the girls. 
2. Bible Studies: I am participating in three this year. 
3. Church: attending and volunteering. 
4. Sharing the Word: through writing, living and ministry (wait, is my ministry writing and living?)

Let me take a break in my list to share this song with you. You can listen to it now or later, but let me say…these are the lyrics that are playing again and again in my head. 

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders

Let me walk upon the waters

Wherever You would call me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger

In the presence of my Savior

That and this. Can you tell I connect with God through music. These lyrics, this is my 2015 goal right how:

How can I say I know you

When what I know is still so small?

Let me rediscover you and breathe in me your life anew

Tell me of the God I never knew

And let me rediscover you

Man, I could listen to that over and over. 

My second priority is my family. This means that these things will be a part of my daily, weekly routine. Sorry if this sounds a bit like June Clever. Wait, should I be apologizing? Or does that go against my quote above? This is me…deal with it - there that’s better. 

Having my family as a priority means I will:

1. spend quality with my girls. Bekah and Morgan are like little sponges - they learn new things every day. I want to make sure I am expanding their minds through play and learning and less TV. I also want to make sure I am available to Shelby. 2015 will bring High School and even more changes. I want to keep our communication open through this time (and always). 
2. Grow with Matt. I’m trying to find the right words to say what I mean here - we just need to make it a priority to have more quality time together as husband and wife not just parents. Make sense?
3. Relationships with my family: I won’t go into details here, (that’s a journal thing…keep reading) but 2014 has been one of the most hurtful years with my extended family. I don’t think all for the relationships will be mended, but that are a couple like the one with my sister that I want to rebuild. (my sister and I didn’t have issues this year, but we could be closer - she’d agree with this). 
4. Do my best to keep a clean and tidy house. I want to get organized in 2015 because I feel this will help with my ADD and the girls’ dresser drawers won’t close - need to fix that. 
5. Meal Planning, Budgeting and Healthy Cooking. (those last two are just about everyone’s new year list, huh?)

Myself is my third priority. I think it will be kind of hard to explain, but I’ll get it a shot. 

1. Remain Creative: Man, my life is so different when I am creating - mainly sewing, but I’ve found other creative crafty things that fill that need lately as well. That being said as I type this I am not sure if DanaRae Designs is going to make it through January. I love bunting (banners) and I love creating them, but for the past year my upkeep with my Instagram account and my online store has been weak. It maybe best to clear out my inventory and move on. That’s so sad, though. I’ve put a lot of my heart into that business. I really want to start posting tutorials, maybe even some of bunting. Also, I see dresses and princess costumes being sewn in the future. Sewing for myself is so therapeutic - I might even try my hand a quilting. 
2. Writing: I HAVE to WRITE! There is NO EXCEPTION! Blogging and Journaling - it has to be done. I think just about all my other priorities revolve around this one. I (and God) still have work to do on me and to help me figure it all out I have to write it down. I am strong believer that there are things that get blogged and things that go into a journal. I’ve found a few planners to help me with blogging - again, it’s something that isn’t as easy now that I am not on medication for my ADD. There are days that it flows out of me and days that I can’t sit down long enough to make it work.  I need to be nicer to myself and remember that I write for me and my daughters. Remember that I write because of my grandmother’s and great grandmother’s battle with alzheimer’s. I write to document, to leave my girls with my thoughts. When you read this it’s just an added bonus for me. 
3. Compare No More: Try my best to not compare myself to my Christian Sisters and Fellow Bloggers. I spend so much time saying “I wish I was like her” each day. It is true how much comparison steals your joy. I will break it this year. 
4. Love Myself: I think that if I say no more comparison I have to follow it with cultivating a true love for the woman that God created. I don’t think that there is much more to say there. 
5. Don’t stretch myself too thin: Don’t over commit, don’t base my existence on whether I meet my goals with Thirty-One. I need to breathe and give myself space in my life to breathe. 
6. Friendship: Cultivate current ones and create new ones! 
7. Read More! I should have my reading list for 2015 published soon. Also, read blogs! 
8. Walk, Run, Dance: just move my body more. It helps the mind and also #4 of this section. That and maybe not eat as much candy as I did in 2014. Candy and cake…hmmm cake. “I love cake” — Matt.

Ummm, what else? 

     9.   Wash YOUR FACE: My more pores took a beating in 2014. Exfoliate! 

Ok, now I am just getting petty with my thoughts. Put God First, Take care of my Family and Take care of Myself. That about sums it all up. 

He's Making Beautiful Things

Hello. 

It’s been my intention to write for days now, maybe weeks, well lets just say that it was never my intention to stop writing almost two months ago. Can I have a minute to just say that time passes way too quickly -  how has it been two months already?

Life lately has been pretty normal for my family. Matt took a new job and it’s clear across Houston, but hey it’s a job that he really enjoys. That is such a blessing. Shelby is doing well in school and going through normal 13 year-old behavior. The littles are good. We are STILL trying to master potty training. 

As for me. Urgh. Ehhhh. I am in some kind of mid-life/not so  mid-life (seeing as how I’m just 37) crisis. I’m stuck in a “what do I want to be when I grow up” funk. No, actually, an all around life funk. 

That funk is the reason this blog post by Meg resonated with me on all kinds of levels. Please stop reading and go here: http://www.megduerksen.com/2014/12/11/thursday-morning-thoughts/

See what I mean. I wouldn’t say what I am about to share with you is what caused my not so mid-life funk, but it sure did send my funkiness in to a whole new realm. 

Around my birthday I wound up in a head on collusion with my past. Don’t you just hate that? Seriously, God has been working on me for months. I could feel his nudges, him slightly pushing me towards the realization that I had to let some secrets out into the light. It was time to let my husband, my family, my friends know where I come from. I’ve been fighting it for seven years. 

Why fight letting it out? Well mostly because there is a time in my past that is yucky, really, really yucky. There were things I was put through, things I did and things I did to others that I would never want anyone to live through - much less tell anyone that I lived through them. I made mistakes - some big nasty mistakes in my life. Mistakes that came back to haunt me recently. 

I know I’m being vague and you are saying “just tell us already,” but for now, for today let me just heal and then I will share. I can tell you this that the one singular thing that I want you to know out of all of this is I AM NOT MY MISTAKES! Yep, I’m screaming it - mainly to myself. 

I AM NOT MY MISTAKES

The other night I was getting ready to go be an ambassador for our church by greeting people who were visiting for Christmas program. The devil had a hold of me bad. Thoughts ran through my head like Why would they want me there. I am just trash. I don’t belong there. 

I have tears in my eyes right now typing out those thoughts. Oh man, I can’t stand them but that’s what I’m facing - I’ve got to be nicer to myself. I have to believe what I tell you  - that I am not that girl from seven years ago. It’s not easy and God is working on me hard. Somedays it’s easy for Him and somedays I fight everything He wants me to be. 

I AM NOT MY MISTAKES, but my mistakes are my story. My past is my story same as my process of getting through all of this is my story. I so want to share it, I so want it to matter for something more that a deep dark yuckiness that a carry with me each day. 

I am more sinful and flawed than I ever dared believe, 

more loved and welcomed than I ever dared hope. 

Elyse M. Fitzpatrick

That quote was pulled from The Greatest Gift by Ann Vozkamp. I’ve been reading it this month. Let me tell you something positive - when I came clean with secrets to my husband and my family I was so scared. I just knew that I would be seen as a fake, that they would second guess my intentions or my love for Matt. Or maybe they would freak and be appalled. Want to know what I received without any hesitation? Love. Pure, grace filled love. (Again, crying as I type). That is so what I’ve needed for years. I needed to know that even when I show all of my yuck that I have kept closed off that I am still loved. 

As I have this book sitting in front of me let me share these words from Ann:

What was intended to tear you apart, God intends it to set you apart. 

What has torn you, God makes a thin place to see glory. 

Deep breath in, breathe out.  I need those words. 

Speaking of words, if you know me you know that music (not that I can sing at all) is such a healing force for me. Last week we sang this song during service. Please listen to words. 

All this pain

I wonder if I'll ever find my way?

I wonder if my life could really change at all?

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us

Read more: Gungor - Beautiful Things Lyrics | MetroLyrics 

I leave you with this video. Thank you for your prayers and thank you for your love.