Secrets Bite

So.
Something happened this weekend that deserves to have a blog post dedicated to it.

We were out on a hike in Arches, and since it wasn't a long one, we were walking slow.  The slower hikes are the hikes that Jack and James become little chatter boxes.  We literally cannot get a word in, even if we want to.  Since they aren't out of breath, they think, "Hey!  I'll just talk! And talk.  And talk.  And talk and talk and talk and talk."
And I love it.

As we were looping back from the "destination" of the hike to the trail head, James got into a very serious conversation with Cole.
It was all about a secret.
Now.  Let me tell you a little about this three year old of mine.  One?  He has an incredible imagination.  He will play for hours in all kinds of worlds, entirely of his own invention, and even his food becomes an actor in this game of life.  As we walked along the trail, James proceeded to paint a very vivid picture of what a secret was like.
"Secrets hide."  He pointed along the darker parts of the trail, under trees, or behind bushes.
"Secrets" he said, "are monsters."
Then?
"Sometimes secrets bite people."

As the conversation continued, it became evident that James is in fact just three, as the secrets also attacked unsuspecting cars, and even flew around with the wind.  To him, the world is nothing but a beautiful place filled with endless wonder.
But those secrets became something tangible.
Something to be reckoned with, and something to avoid.
And those words burned themselves into my mind.
Secrets bite people.

I'm not real big with personal details, usually.  Life changes.  It flows, and moves, and has an elegance to it that can be rivaled with nothing else.  If one were to look at my life, I cannot confess to how they might describe me.  Nor do I know how I am spoken of by others.  Truth be told, I don't speak to, or treat, myself with the dignity I should on occasion.  Thankfully, my boys continually grant me introspection.  With this one?
I grabbed a torch, and walked to my shadows.

Whenever I say or do anything, if I act with the intention of keeping it a secret in any way, should I have done so at all?  Maybe once those words or deeds fly into the wind, they hide in dark places, and wait.  They wait until a moment arises, then they attack.  Do we speak, or act, at times without any intention of truly owning it?  Do we silently hope that our moment will keep itself hidden?  After all, these are the shadows.  Our secrets take cover under trees, and behind bushes.  But the truth doesn't lend itself to the dark, does it.  We tread on a thin line thinking what we say or do will tend no harm to those who don't know any better.
Sometimes it is something harmless.
Sometimes it is not.
And secrets bite.

We need small reminders from the most innocent members of this world to realize what we should change, and how.  I don't have many words of wisdom here, for I feel the words speak for themselves.
Go on your own journey with it.
Just remember.
Sometimes secrets bite people.

   

 

When the World Sucks You Dry

Guys.  I read the news.  I shouldn't have, but I did, and it's done.  I played the comparing game.  One story was about this little family travelling the world.  "Ohhh, I want to do that!"  Another story was about turmoil in other parts of the country.  How can I help?  Can I help?  I feel helpless.
Then the stories throughout the world, both good and bad; they're endless!

I got overwhelmed.  My anxiety started rising.  "What am I doing with my life?!  So and so is chasing their dreams, this person is doing wonderful things to change the world, this other family always just 'has it together' and I'm sitting here with gum in my hair."

What is success, really?
Some would say any success that is associated with where God wants you to be is success.
Well, okay.
So what are dreams?
Some will tell you to "wait for your dreams."  God's timetable, etc.
More often than not, we attribute things to God that aren't necessarily his fault, or his doing.
Bad things happen.  "Where is God?"
Good things happen.  "This came from God!"
He's the bad guy, the good guy, and every guy in between in many cases.

I'm a big believer in agency.  I'm a big believer in putting your big person pants on, throwing your pack on your back and stepping into the darkness.  Sometimes you get lost in it.  Sometimes you find light.  I can tell you that when we decided to move to a smaller town, God was very quiet.  I prayed about everything.  I asked about everything.  Is this right?  Should we go here?  What about our next step?
Nothing.
Silence.

There have also been times in my life where I have yelled at God for his apparent lack of caring.  "Where are you!?  Why won't you answer me?!  Why is life so hard all the time, and why aren't you helping me do anything about it??"
Nothing.
Silence.

It's in those silent moments that I think, could it really be my choice?
Is God really waiting on me, not the other way around?

God has taught me something very, very important.
Sometimes?  The world will suck you dry.
Sometimes the world will take everything you think you know, and burn it.
Sometimes?
Sometimes God won't do a darned thing.
And it's the deepest lesson we could ever learn.
We are supposed to experience this life.  We are supposed to lift each other, and be good for the sake of being good.  We shouldn't need to be told who we need to be, we should be for the sake of being, and love for the sake of loving.  Sometimes, God lets the world go.  He lets it spin, he lets your world spin, and he sits back and says, "Now, what are YOU going to DO about it?"
It's not that he doesn't care.
It is, in fact, quite the opposite.

So to the news.  To those stories of other people living a dream; your dream.
To the horrors you read about, and the sorrow you feel inside.
Listen.
Maybe we shouldn't be saying "Oh, God, please do something about this."
Listen.
He might be saying the same thing to you.

  

The Good Goodbye

Nobody really likes goodbye.  It's so final in its respect to moving on.  Unless it's like a "see you later" kind of goodbye.  We usually don't even include the "good" part of goodbye.  It's more like "Yup.  Love you too, buh bye."  Or just simply, bye.

But what about that good?  Goodness.  The news lately its littered with bad.  Little good, lots of bad.  Forget the news though, what about your life?  Is it littered with good?  Or bad?  Is your life full?  Or empty?  When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror and said "Why, yes, it's good.  I'm good."  With that, have you ever REALLY considered what the phrase "I'm good" truly means?  Are you good?
Which good?

The word 'good' in the English language is one loaded little word.  There are so many ways it can be used, and with that, the definitions of each use are not limited.
So?
Let's begin with the first.  To be desired, or approved of.  Two?  Possessing or displaying moral virtue.  Three.  Enjoyable, pleasant.  Four.  Thorough.  Then the nouns!  Morally righteous; benefit or advantage; merchandise.
And of course the classic.  "I'm not good, I'm well, thank you very much."
....English language snobs....

Like I said, loaded word.  So what's the point.  When you say, "I'm good."  What do you mean?  Imagine that mirror now.  Do you feel the need to be approved of?  Do you feel your moral compass is solid?  Are you enjoying life?  Is it beneficial for you?  Are you good merchandise?
Are you all of the above?
When you say "I'm good" you are saying, "I approve of me, I'm moving forward with conviction and a strong moral code of compassion.  I am not broken, I do not need others to tell me who I am, because I am, quite simply, good."

Now for the bye.  Life tends to litter our souls.  We don't always do it on purpose, but we do tend to pick up random pieces of trash as we move along our path.  It could be simple things.  The nagging thoughts of negativity.  The jeering ways of judgment.  The callousness of removing charity and turning a blind eye.
The worst one?
Forgetting that we are good.

Sometimes, the mirror will show us something that is clinging to our goodness, and sucking the light out of it.  We often ignore it, thinking that time will fix it.  Or worse?  We assume we must deal with it simply because it is there.
To this I say no.
Remove it.

It is time to remember when it is good to say goodbye so that we can be good.  Sometimes it is okay to let go of something intrinsic; or even someone.
Sometimes we have to.
Sometimes the goodness inherent within our very nature is screaming to be set free.  It doesn't want to be told how, or where, or why it needs to be; it just wants to be.
It wants you to remember it is there.
It's a part of you.
It is you.

You.
You just need to be.
Exist.

Because you are good.
And the world needs you.

Letting God Go

The title of this post may be misleading, but it is necessary.

I couldn't sleep last night for a variety of reasons, but the biggest one was rooted in thought.  I was in the middle of a conversation with God, when he said something to me.
"Let me work in you."
This thought has occurred to me before, and it's manifested itself in many ways.  Last night though, the epiphany was huge.  So much so, in fact, that it reduced me to tears of unspeakable gratitude and overwhelming assurity.

It was time to let God go.

Now when I say this, I do not mean it in the sense that I am releasing God from my life, forgetting him, or otherwise denying his existence. It is, in fact, quite the opposite.  I am inviting him fully in my life, always remembering him, and acknowedging him in everything.
I am letting him be as he is, where he is, and how he is.
My entire life has been spent clinging to God, pleading for light and truth from him, and begging for release from trials or hardship.  I've prayed to God, sought him out, and even held to him so tightly, he couldn't help me.
He couldn't help me for the simple fact that I wouldn't let him, even though I was constantly asking for his hand to intervene.

Let God go.

Let Him fly.  He is already in everything, everywhere.  By releasing our grasp on him, he will then be able to consume every part of our lives.
His grace will refine us.
Every part.
God is goodness, God is light.
God is the end all, and be all, of all things.
God is.

God is in our souls.
God is in me.
God is in you.

Too often we spend too much of our time and effort with a preconceived notion of who God is, why he is, where he exists and how he exists.  If we love Him, we will let him go.  We will cling to the simple reality that he just is, and in being he will perfect our lives, our thoughts and our light will become everything that he is.  When we surrender our need to understand to the will of the master, the master will help us understand.
He will guide.
He will teach.
We will love.

Let God go.  Let God be.
He is in you, He is in me; he just is.
Release Him to be in your life.
Release Him and the miraculous will find you.
Release Him, and you will come to know him as you never have before.

The Letter Within

Have you ever written a letter to yourself?  I did it a lot when I was younger.  At youth functions, or camps, we often wrote a letter to ourselves saying things like "Hey!  How's life!  What have you been up to the last five/ten/fifteen years?"  A list of goals or certain things my past self wanted my present self to remember were then given.  Something like, "Are you still chasing your dreams?  What about goals 'x, y, z' have you accomplished those yet?"

I've been thinking about some of those letters lately.  I actually found one the other day.  It was written in what was probably the darkest time frame of my depression.  I spoke a lot about God, and remembering to stay strong.  It talked about loving without reservation, and being kind, and remembering that everyone wears an invisible pain to some degree.  The end of the letter is what stuck with me, though.
It said "Just remember.  I believe in you, and I always will."

It's cheesy; I believe in myself.  But then I took my mind back to that moment.  I believed in me.  Somewhere amid all that pain, and sorrow, a very tiny, very small, part of me believed I was going to make it.  I took my mind back to the night the letter was written.  I was in my room.  It was late, and everyone was in bed.  I had been crying, as was often the case, and I lay curled in middle of the floor.  I never slept much in those days, and I was clinging onto a picture as if my life depended on it remaining in my hand.  I sobbed, and asked God to take away the pain that no one could see.  I begged him to just end the constant despair I felt, and to make me happy.
"Just make me happy.  Please.  Just make me happy."
I said it over and over and over again, as though by repetition it might come true.

I prayed for that every day.  Make me happy.  Make me better.  Fix me; I'm broken.  I talked to myself about how to change, and I constantly came up with game plans to bring myself out of the dark.  On that night, as I was laying on the floor, I felt to write.

So I did. 

"Life is hard.  It's a fact that too many people just don't understand what it feels like to be covered in this blanket of sadness all the time.  But remember when you weren't so sad?  Remember when you could help other people, and lift them up?  It's a gift to do that.  Lifting others up is an important thing.  You must lift.  You must keep going.  God is there, and He always will be.  Remember, somewhere deep inside, you understand who you are.  Hold on to that.  Just remember.  I believe in you, and I always will."

Time is a gift.  It's taken me many years to find this peace, and a great deal of soul searching, but once God became my ultimate light, everything else just faded away.  Time and God have been gracious in their healing of my heart.  I am fully aware that many do not believe they will find peace, or contentment, in this life.  My own experience has led me to believe that this is not meant to be.  I once believed that a forever sadness was my own fate.  But something was trying to show me I could beat it.  Something deep within was pointing towards my path and saying "just keep walking." 

These times are persistent in their desire to pull us down, and make us wallow in a world of self doubt and confusion.  Peace will come to those who actively seek it.  It may not be peace from outside influence or even inner pain, but it can exist within the heart, and soul.  Life cannot be lived unless it is has true purpose.  What is your purpose?  No one else can answer that question for you.  You have a path, and a calling.  You have a reason for being here.  No one can give you that reason, and it cannot be an external reason.  It has to come from somewhere deep inside.  Something within must lead you, and that lead must speak to you more loudly than any other voice.

The very depths of our being cry out in their need to be more.  We are powerful, and vibrant.  We must arise, and change, and hope, and cry, and change again, and build, and dream, and break, and build again.  We are not meant to be molded by our circumstances, our weaknesses, or our trials.  We are not meant to bend to the will of a negative, and decaying world.  

We are meant to stand in God, and mold ourselves.

Find that inner light and cling to it, then let it grow.

Fight.  Forgive.  Frame the world around you to be more than it is; lift.

"Be the change you want to see in the world."

If you are quiet enough, your time will come.  Keep going.  Keep fighting for your voice.

And remember.  

Believe in you.

Always.  

  

One Secret, No More

I have a secret.  Doesn't everyone?
I have a new coping mechanism.  It's miraculous in many ways.  First of all, I get teased.  I get teased because my choice of music as of late consists of "new age relaxation."  Aka?  Enya.  Yanni.  Yiruma.  It's soul soothing.  Yes, I said it.
Soul.  Soothing.

Well, we don't live in a huge place.  So, not huge place mixed with two rambunctious, occasional unbearable fit throwing boys?  Then there's the baby.  (Surprisingly enough, he is my link to sanity as of late.)  And, sometimes a puppy.  Another side note?
Puppy is often calmer than said boys.

So let's take this morning as an example.  Cole had to work, and he already had his hours in.  Strike one.  Strike two, Jack got up at 6, and had a late night.  Strike three came when I opened the door to James's room and was assaulted by this smell.  After that, the strikes kept falling.  Baby wouldn't calm down.  "Hold me.  ALWAYS!" is his mantra today.  Jack and James are tired and overly bored.  And puppy wants attention.
Strike.  Strike.  Strike.  Strike.......

Enter headphones.

All of the sudden, I see the chaos, but I can't hear it.  All I hear is "River Runs Through You" and "Orinoco Flow."  If I close my eyes for 5 seconds, I am transported to whatever visual the music can make.  It's peaceful.
It's serene.
I want to be where my headphones take me.

Then I open my eyes again and the chaos is still there.
But it's now manageable.

I'm tired.  All the time, I'm tired.  If you aren't a mother and you want to be one?  Buckle up.
If you are a mother and you can relate.  High five.  Now let's hug it out.

I've been told I am remarkably patient with my sons.  The truth is, I'm not.  I'm imaginative.  When I can feel the crazy starting to set in, I just zone out of one sense.  Mothers have like 20 senses anyway, so zoning out one to be lifted to another place is completely acceptable.

In the meantime.  Don't judge me.
Love me.
Love everyone.
We are, all of us, having a hard time in different ways.

If God Could Tell You

I officially feel like I've hit being a mom.  I know I've been a mom for nearly 6 years now, but today I feel it.  When I think about my mom and how she would say "oh, I look so old" growing up, I can visualize her.  I can see her pointing out her flaws, I can see the scars, and the lines, and the tired eyes.
I see her in all her beautiful glory, and wonder.
I see her.
Now I look in the mirror, and I see her again.

I'm young.  I know that.  I'm still very, very young.  But today?  Today I feel...not old...but aged somehow.  Coen is 5 weeks old, and he's our last.  I had surgery this last week to make that "official" and now I look at him, and I think, "Wow.  You're it.  You're where my mommy stages end."  I will grow with them all, now.  My cycle of momminess won't start over with another little one, each stage will end as Coen grows.

I'm sure many mothers could read this and think, "Oh, honey, you have NO idea."  I'm sure I will look into the mirror many, many times and see another woman standing before me.  I know it will happen.  I do.  But today?  Today I looked in that mirror and I no longer saw a young woman.
For the first time in my life, I saw my lines.  I saw my scars.  I saw my sags, and stretch marks.
I saw my experiences printed like a map upon my body.
I saw myself through the eyes of a younger version of me.
I'm different.
I've changed.

I remember thinking as a child that I wished my mom could just see herself as I saw her.  She was so perfect in my eyes, regardless of what she'd been through, how much physical or mental weight she carried, or if she felt her body or her life was lopsided or out of sync.
My mind traveled to those memories today.

There's a certain amount of mourning that has to be done in life, I think.  As we grow, certain things happen, or don't happen.  Our bodies, like our lives, change in so many ways and sometimes so drastically, that we are forced to look in the mirror and face what we see.
Our eyes will travel along the scars, or the sags, or the areas we find wanting, and we will either accept what we see, or seek to change it to make it better.
The balance comes in knowing when to change, and when to let alone what is already beautiful.

Today, I do.  I feel aged.  I feel the experiences that have made me who I am.  I don't feel weighed down, or broken, but I do feel different somehow.  I feel as though a chapter on my life has closed, and the next chapter awaits my arrival.  It's difficult to explain, and the mixture of emotions is likewise confusing.  But it's there.
It's there.
I hope though, just as I hoped my mom could see, that I will see myself, and my life, as my children do.
"Mom, you're so beautiful."
In all our glory and wonder.
We are; we are beautiful.