Shinning in the Dark

    Have you ever noticed how unappealing Christmas lights are in the day time? Tangles of wires, bulbs who's light can't be seen for the sun.  But, as sun sets those webs of wire and dim little bulbs transform.  They shine, they twinkle, and together they make the night beautiful and full of hope. 
    Life of late feels like those Christmas lights with a harsh unforgiving light shining on them.  I can see all the tangles and  I focus on all the ugly.   I haven't been able to see the light or feel its warmth.  I'm going through a divorce.  We are all going through a divorce.   I haven't felt much of the holiday spirit yet.  I am sad, worried, and exhausted.
      For my Turner B. and My Sweet Tater I'm trying to go about all our routines, all of our traditions as best I can.   For the past four years we have participated in RACK'd, which stands for Random Acts of Christmas Kindness.   I love it because it is ours- The kids get so into it, it helps focus them on something besides the "I wants" of the holiday and helps them think about the "I can give".  Every year we have had a family meeting in November and planned out each day - What verse will be included, who we will RACK, what supplies to gather.  Each day has been written on the calendar.  This year I just haven't been on top of it.  There was no meeting in November.  Our verses are not written out, our supplies are not gathered.  I've felt like my sadness is forcing me to just get by, not flourish.   The adjustments of new living arrangements, trying to comfort my children, trying to comfort myself- its taking all of my energy.  It feels dark.  I feel like I am letting my kids down. 
      Last weekend I was home alone.  Did you know how quiet a house can be when the the two people who hung the moon and the stars aren't in it?  I was crying, wallowing in my sadness when my phone rang and it was a fried inviting me to come eat dinner.  I said no, I just couldn't pull myself together.  She didn't take no for an answer.  After another phone call and threats to come physically pick me up I went and had a family meal, without my family.  Going places with out my kids feels wrong.  Like I just don't fit, half of me is missing.  My entire identity is that of Mom.  Last weekend I was welcomed with open arms to dinner, and I was with friends who turned into family.  They loved me through my tears and a small light pierced the dark.
    On December first, at seven at night I thought we wouldn't make our first day to RACK someone.  But, sitting in the front seat waiting to be delivered to wrestling practice was my Christmas miracle.  Turner and I were talking and he said lets put coins in a vending machine.  I actually had a dollar in quarters in my wallet, so we looked for a coke machine on the way to practice.  No luck.  We did see a news paper machine and decided to use it.  I wrote "Go tell it on the mountain, that Jesus Christ is born" on a scrap of paper.  We put the coins in the machine and prayed quickly that it would bless the right person.  It took a dark moment of doubting myself to see that beautiful  sparkling light given to me by my son. 
    December second came and it was a typical rushed morning, peeling out of the driveway trying to make it to schools on time.  My day was full of making orders, sorting through make up, and coffee with a friend.  I've been withdrawn.  I don't feel like myself so I haven't been as social with my friends.  But I had promised to meet for breakfast, so I made myself go.  I worry, a lot.  I run on caffeine and anxiety.  I am pretty good at smiling, but once I'm emotionally exhausted even that becomes hard.  Breakfast turned out to be wonderful.  All the worry I carry over people passing judgment just slipped away.  I sat with my girlfriend and we talked.  I needed that, even though I resisted going.  Worry shared is burden lifted.  My friend took some of my worry off my shoulders, and I saw another tiny shinning light in the dark. 
       After I had picked the kids up later that day we were in the afternoon swing, homework, snacks, signing papers.  I was hurrying to get Tate ready for gymnastics practice.  I was upstairs looking for a leotard for her and she yelled "We haven't RACK'd anyone, have we?" I answered no.  Truthfully, I was hoping to skip it.  I just didn't have it in me to come up with something in the middle of our crazy busy day.  Tate flew up the stairs and asked to hurry up and find her a hand lotion.  My Sweet Tater is full of energy, but along with her energy there is the deepest most caring heart.  I gave her one of the lotions out of my supply.  She ran out saying she was RACKing our mailman.  Just like that both my kids were out the door, chasing a mail truck.  They caught him and told him Merry Christmas, and to keep his hands from getting chapped.  I could feel the warmth of the glow of that light that came on to chase away the dark.
     God seems to answer the prayers we are too weary to pray.  He knows my heart.  He sent His Son to save my soul, and He sent my kids and my friends to save me too.  Every phone call, every text, every card and message- is a light. Together they chase away the darkness.  Even when I just can't talk anymore, having a friend who is willing to just sit beside me  lights another bulb.  In the brightest and happiest times of my life I wouldn't have been able to see the beauty of all of these lights.  Our lives need the dark times, at least mine does.  I needed to have the heartbreaking darkness to be able to see each tiny twinkling light.  To see each light that has been lit from my children, my parents, my sister, and every friend.  All of those lights are beautiful.  They are the hope and grace that I needed in this dark time.  God sends the Light, even when you aren't strong enough to ask for it.  This Christmas I will stand back and bask in the glow of all of the lights my Lord has sent to me.  Family, both new and old, friendships that carry me when I am weary, my kids- who refuse to let me fail.  My lights are beautiful, I am forever thankful for the dark that let me see just how bright all of my blessings are.
   
   

As snow gently fell

    God visits me in the strangest places. He's at school in the pick up line, when a child is kind to a classmate and holds open a door.  He shows Himself to me in the stranger who lets me merge into their lane and waves with happiness in traffic. God brushes past me in the faces of strangers who smile kindly as they walk by in the grocery store. I know it's Him. He makes sure I know He is there.  But oddly enough, today God came and sat next to me in church. 

     I listen in church. I want to learn and to understand. I take notes. I doodle on my bulletin. I hear about God. But I am not sure if I've ever felt Him beside me like I did today. 

    The message was about finding God's will for your life. I took notes. It all made sense and had so many references to scripture, such a beautifully written and thought out sermon. BUT, My God came and sat with me, held me, when our pastor started talking about how his children opened his heart to the world.  

      I've never shared my "testimony". I have always worried that all people see in me is my sin. My short comings. My failures. I've always loved God, but having my son was when I actually met Him. 

  I was "saved" and baptized right after my Pawpaw died. I was eleven. If heaven was real, and it is where my Pawpaw was, I needed my ticket. 

    I have always attended church, I know the hymns. I love how it feels to be in  a room of believers, but it took having my own son to actually feel what God suffered for me. 

      The most perfect day of my life was spent sitting on our love seat holding my new born son. Right next to the window, the beautiful snow covered landscape like something out of a movie.  Watching  snow fall, hearing the beautiful silence that a blanket of snow brings. I held Turner for hours that day. I saw God in his perfect little self. I saw what real, true love is. I held this perfect life in my hands and knew I would spend the rest of my life serving and protecting him. 

    God loves me more than I can ever understand. He loves me no matter how awful I am. No matter how arrogant, no matter how bad my temper, no matter how lazy I am when  I need to worship Him. It took holding my son to see and feel that kind of love. 

     Turner saved me in so many ways. He let me see the value in love. A friend shared a blog post with me about trying to love every single person in your life like they are a child. Treat them as if they are doing their very best, because they are. That advice along with the advice I got from a bible study --- pray to God like talking to your parent. Pray like a small child. Petition Him, talk to Him often. Keep a line of communication open. Set aside a time to listen. And bring Him EVERYTHING!  Don't keep small things from God. It's a learning process. It needs time and faith.

         I'm trying to remember all the times GOD came near me. 'if I could just touch the hem of His garment". 

     I hear His garments rustle. I feel the air they displace as He walks by. Having my children made me aware. He was always there, I just wasn't ready to listen. 

       I was truly saved the day the

snow  gently fell. When God used quiet and stillness to show me the beauty and peace He made for me. He came to sit by me today. I hope I didn't disappoint Him.  I hope He comes near again.  I hope His love for me is truly bigger than all my sin. I hope to hear his garments as He walks near again. 

Uplift, Empower, Validate

   I survived. The kids survived. Really, I think I was the only one in danger of not making it through the first week of school.  TnT loved the first week back, I did not. But with new school years comes so much more new. My gypsy soul loves new- new places, new faces, new songs, new outlooks, new hopes. 

    I recently became a Presenter for Younique.  What a crazy idea?! Build a company that builds women up. I have been welcomed with open arms. Do I know what I'm doing yet? Nope. Do I believe in the product? Absolutely. Did I need this in my life? More than I am comfortable admitting. Joining a company who's mission statement is to Uplift, Empower, and Validate is what I needed.  

    I'm new. I'm the new girl, always. And it's hard. But,  I've lived in Texas for three years. My newness has worn off. So has my  filter. Every year that passes I have less care of offending  or embarrassing  myself. Every birthday brings the ability to hug longer and harder. Because if I am hugging you, chances are I love you. And if I love you, I know one of us is needing that too tight,  too long hug kind of hug. 

    This last week has been very hard. Watching My Sweet Tater fret over her first gymnastics competition, I am not sure who was more nervous, me or her.  But I saw every mother at the gym meet with the same glittering tears in their eyes. And I love being in that club with each of you. My heart soared with each of your girls. Not every tear in my eyes was for my Tate.  Some  were for the girl who hit her back flip flop for the first time, some were for girl who struggled on bars. Being a mother opened my heart in ways I can't still can't understand. 

     As my children get older I'm also noticing how much I love their  friends.  The friends who are older than Tate, but still came by to give her flowers for her first gym meet. They thought they were just being nice to my daughter. They don't know that they gave my heart hope. A sweet gesture for the youngest child in our group of friends, no doubt. But it was so much more. I saw goodness in those girls yesterday.  Teenagers scare me. I pray everyday that the teen years  go smoothly for Turner and Tate. I also pray that my children remain safe, and most importantly maintain that "goodness".  The older girls that sweetly include my Tater in everything and call her their little sister are what I pray for. All of their parents should be so proud. They are raising amazing kids with big hearts, and they all give me such hope. 

    Now we are in week two of school, week two of learning how to uplift, empower, and validate through my new work family. I'm taking notes from the "big sisters" God put in Tate's life. Some kids know how important it is to build each other up- and I'm thankful for each of them. 

And I've Cried

    Where do I begin? Well, for one I've cried all week. My babies are back in school, and they are so happy- but I've cried. My Tater cried a little on the first day, because it was real for her that Turner B wasn't walking her in,  he won't be in school with her again for a long time-  and I cried. I've seen how their little minds are so open and excited but also tired from all the new, all the learning, all the fun and routine of school- and I've cried. 

    I've also noticed how much I need to thank my mom and dad. Babies are amazing, preschool and kindergarten are tender. But sending my very first baby to middle school has undone me- and I've cried. I need to thank my mom and dad for loving me thru all the transitions in my life. I need to thank them for the brave faces that I now find myself putting on.  I learned from them. They were always so happy for new chapters in my life. But now living through it and looking back- I see the cracks in the smiles.  Now I'm in the club.  My heart is being torn out by my kids growing up- and I've cried. All the cliches, all the "God please make time slow down", all the "I'd give anything to go back......"

   I want the life I imagined, but I thank God daily for giving me the one I needed- and I've cried. I thought I'd be the crazy Aunt at my nieces recitals and competitions. Instead I'm the crazy friend at my friends son's football games. I sat and had my heart break for a girl I barely know because she was being picked on for her beautiful hair- so I came home- and I cried. If we are all just trying to survive this crazy, uncertain, wonderful life- why waste words being mean to someone because her hair is different?  Really? That's what kids do now. How do I protect my TNT? I can't keep them from the world. I can't keep them to myself, there is so much wonderful out there. And they are becoming old enough to see it- all of it. The flowers, the different people, the kind gestures of a stranger who holds the door open, the elderly couple who still holds hands. But they see the hateful looks of cowards who fear anything that is different from themselves. They see the news, they hear hate muttered by adults who don't realize they are listening. I can't keep them from it- and I cried. 

     The good thing about having your heart break is that the cracks and tears just become filled in by new friends, new people you think of as family. It forces your heart to grow- but the process hurts. So I'll cry. Next week will be better. I'll make a point to really notice the good. The good kids who sit together and cheer for each other. The good parents who put in the brave  faces with me and love not only our kids but each other's kids too. I'll smile when I see the good in the world. I will try my hardest to smile more, hug more, show up more. I'm going to need "my people", this is a hard journey, thank God we only have to go through it once. Once is good, it's messy, it's not what I planned, it's unexpected, it's awful, it's amazing. And it's Ok if if I cry a little.