Sometimes......

There are times....  sometimes...... that I suppress.   Times that I blog, when I'm really angry, and suppress every bad thought as to not seem negative.  Times that I "facebook" when my frustration levels have scored a gazillion on the scale, and I put something nonchalant about what it may be that is bothering me.

In writing- I find that I am most successful in expressing myself, with out sounding angry.  It comes out much nicer in the form of a letter than it does coming out of my mouth.

Tonight- however, I feel the need to be blatantly forward.  Not for anyone other than myself.  I need to be able to refer back to this day- so I can (hopefully) remember how "hard it use to be" and find gratitude that it's not anymore

There has been 'something' in our home; I couldn't tell you exactly what- but whatever it is that's going on- it's breaking me down.  Tearing apart my relationship with my daughters, and with my husband.  It's not 'just me', either.  It's 'something else'.  Satan?  His retarded little demons?  Something!

Passive aggression creates harsh aggression.  My husband?  He's super passively aggressive.  He may not realize it- but he IS.  And because I can see clearly through the falsehood, I become a fist full of fury when he DENIES it!!  OH!  I can't stand it.

(Anyone out there reading this that hears from their spouse, friend, relative, or second cousin twice removed that you're 'passive aggressive', you need to TAKE. NOTE.  Try to fix it.  And make it snappy.  Because if you're being called out on it- it's being realized, and your aiding the person dealing with 'you' in their outward aggression.)

Moving on.

My primary 'love language' is "Acts of Service".  This being said- if my husband neglects his responsibilities, I feel like I'm unimportant to him.  When I find myself picking up the random sock lying in the middle of the floor after he's kicked it out of his way....or throwing away the diaper he's just changed, blowing leaves, checking the air pressure in my tire, taking out the garbage, getting a phone call from the power company that our power will be turned off because our bill wasn't paid, etc. etc. etc....  when THAT happens- and I've got to pick up the slack- ON TOP of my massive load......  ya.... I feel extremely unloved.

 I wish my love language was 'touch'- then I'd feel like the most LOVED woman on the planet.  He wants to hug me, and kiss me, and 'loooove' on me all. of. the. time!!  But?  That's not MY love language.  That's his.  It doesn't work for me when he hugs me right AFTER he dumps crud all over our floor and neglects to pick it up.

When I get to witness my husband enjoying the sweet childhood of our children, while I wipe the sweat from my brow as I toss another load of laundry in, clip a few more coupons,  sweep the floor and wipe the mess from the table.....  I become bitter.  Not because I have to take care of my responsibilities- but because I'm behind due to his lack of responsibility... and because most of the time- by the end of the day- I have to miss out on how incredible our kids really are due to the red-light flashing in my brain screaming 'over load, over load, over load'.

I bust my BOOtay day in and day out- cleaning, washing, cooking, educating, disciplining, and so on- all day, every day.  I sacrifice my time in order to assure that my children are not chowing down on chicken nuggets and french fries, but that their consuming fresh, whole, all natural food.  And I stress over curriculum and time frames in order to assure that our girls are not 'going through the public system' in order to achieve a decent level of education.  In the middle of it all- I'm counseling and redirecting behavior.  I'm reading and researching to try to figure out all of the 'how to's' on this whole "mommy thing" because my mom was never able to teach me how to do it.

And all of my efforts- I feel- are in vain.  Because I SUCK at being a good mom.  I'm so 'on edge'.  Just overwhelmed.  Exhausted.  Burnt-Freaking-OUT!

 I find myself shoveling the blame on my husband for my state-of-mind. " I would NOT be so consumed if he would spend a few- just a few- extra minutes doing 'his part'."

I have a friend- with one child- who's husband has said from the beginning "I work.  You stay at home.  It's not my job to clean."  And that's THAT.  The end.  She 'does it all';  home school, housework, cooking....  Selfishly- I think to myself that it's a reasonable approach from her husband's point of view.  She's got one child.  It's one- against- one.  I guess it makes more sense to me that way???  Should it, though?

Here I am struggling with emptied out Rice Krispy boxes all over our dining room floor, and blood-curdling screams from one or the other for some reason or other, while dishes pile up, and laundry refuses to walk itself into the washer/dryer and drawers and 'school' beckons me to begin.

 I'm pulled into 3 different directions JUST from the basic care  taking of our daughters.  3 different needs.  3 different stages of development.  THREE!

I certainly was not blessed with the Jesus Christ Love and Patience that is required of a person raising a family with 3 amazing little girls and one hard-working man.  And any patience I have acquired in these past 28 years gets sucked out of me so quickly that one would assume I'd not had any at all!

Sometimes- I just want my husband to pick up that DANG sock.  And throw away that empty shampoo bottle and the poopy diaper laying on the dresser.   No.  Not sometimes.  All. Of. The. Time.  It's one less second I have to spend 'working' and not any amount of physical hardship on him.

Sometimes, he does a rocking job taking care of our home.... most of the time- he wakes up in the morning and unloads the dishwasher and takes out the garbage.  Phew.  Most of the time, this is a treasure to my day.  Empty dishwasher.  Empty trashcan.  Most of the time- I am full of sincere gratitude that he takes care of these two things for me.

 But!  Sometimes- nuh-uh...NO!....sometimes..... it's not enough.

Sometimes, I need my van to get a good looking at to make sure it's not going to fall apart as I'm driving down the road.  Sometimes I need the little things ( in much larger quantities.)  Sometimes.

Sometimes I'm spent- and I need much more from this partner of mine.  Sometimes, I need him to remove his hand from his back and stop patting it just because he 'chopped wood and went to work today'.  YES.  I'm thankful for that... I certainly am.

BUT!  While he chopped a few pieces of wood- I was at Walmart with our 2 and 4 year old.  At Walmart.  In the ice and snow!  Out in the cold dark with a funky sound coming from my tires and my engine.

With a medium sized Chick Fil A cup FULL of barf from the 4 year old who randomly got sick.  With the 2 year old heavily snoozing.  With a forgotten wallet in my van after finagling my way through the aisles trying to fit my groceries UNDER the cart and showing the whole store my butt crack from bending over and over and over plucking out my goods from the under carriage.  With one buggy full of groceries, and the other packed with a (still) snoozing 2 year old, and an (all of the sudden) spiffy-loud-excited 4 year old, who just 25 minutes prior was screaming as though she was dying and throwing up (in afore mentioned Chick Fil A cup).

With having to go back OUT in the cold snow to retrieve my wallet, and having my phone ring to hear my husband ask "Can you get me some cereal?  (I can't) Just go grab some for me real quick! (I gotta let you go.. I can't talk right now)

And then- coming home from the store- after already having a  full hard core day of straight-up CLEANING   to realize that the $#$*%@ baby powder that my 2 year old had emptied out the day before was STILL all over the foyer stairs. (One of 3 spots I missed.)  The bathroom counters are still grossly full of JUNK, and my husband was on my heels "Do we have any clean bed linens anywhere- are there any clean towels???"  More back patting from him "I emptied the dishwasher.  And reloaded it.  And paid the bills."

 After the DAY I had- and after the EVENING I had endured- I couldn't see those dishes he put away.  I could only see the powdered stairs.  And the bathroom counters.  And the 5 minutes that would have made all of those little things disappear.

Grocery bags I brought in from the cold wetness were on the table and the kitchen counter....  waiting for ME to empty them as my husband chowed down on the cereal I brought home (not his kind like he had requested while I was checking out)  and I found myself snap-crackle and pop right along side that stupid cereal!

 I was DONE!  The wall came up.  The attitude.  The 'glazed over' look found it's way to my bitter angry eyes.  The "Whatever" found its way to my lips.  Whatever.  Whatever.  I don't care.  What-EVER!

And that's where I'm at now- even after 47 minutes of Kari Jobe, Selah, and Fernando Ortega- I'm still mad.  Just. MAD!

Frustrated that no matter what- I'm still going to be behind, he's still going to stake claim in his 'I do my part all of the time' and I'm going to feel unloved, under-appreciated, totally deflated, angry, lonely, and broken-hearted.   I'm missing out.  And I blame him.

 I don't require a perfectly clean house- just the basics.  I'm not OCD- maybe a little ADD, but I'm not ridiculously asking too much from my man.  We have small kids.  The work load is extreme.  I should NOT have to take care of most of our life all by myself.  I want him to do his part.  Fix the hole in our wall.  Change the oil.  Clean the yard.  Mow the grass.  Put up shelves.  Fix the floor.    Pay the bills (on time).   I really feel like if he'd JUST do his part- I'd not be so consumed.

Sometimes a person gets to vent out their woes and hangups on their blog.  Sometimes- it feels better to just tell the world how TICKED off you are.   This time?

What good did it do me?

Rereading it- I sound like an unthankful BITCH.  What was it I said before?  The written word (something or other) doesn't hide the truth.

Hmmm.......

What a day.  What an unpredictable, all-together exhaustingly frustrating day.

***Please God- let tomorrow be so awesome that I'll want to blog about IT.  Please give me some peace- and patience and self-control.  Please give me more time to get it right where my kids are concerned.  Please give me a supernatural endurance.  Give me focus.  Determination to NOT give up on my man, myself, or on You.
Thanks, Lord- for never giving up on me.  I know I disappoint you. I know I hurt you.  I know I infuriate you.  Thanks for loving me anyway.
<3 Amber

Hello Insanity, Why'd You Stop By Today?

From Start to (almost finish) this day has brought me a PILE of chaos mixed in with a few cups insanity;

It began at 7:00 AM when my alarm clock started singing to me.  Singing- that's right.

WWEV Victory 91.5 FM. (listen online- tune in all the time.  it's the best station in the WORLD)

The point of setting the alarm to that station is actually NOT to wake me up-

it's to start soothing my mind before I crawl out of the bed, er,

to be more accurate, before SOME cute little 2 year old crawls into bed with me.

(frozen toes and all)

I need that peace to start working it's way into my mind- after only 5 hours of sleep, this particular morning made me even more gratefully thankful that God blessed me with this awesome radio station.

Portal

This is the night to blog.  I love blogging.  It empties my chaotic brain.   Journaling would be sufficient, too- but who am I kidding?  Actually writing something down, with a pen- and no backspace to correct my errors?  No spell check?  Nah.  I prefer the blog.

What's MORE awesome about this whole blogspot thing- I have LOADS of unpublished blogs set aside JUSt. For. ME!  It's my hidden journal, so to speak.  I had to do this sneaky little thing because my software that actually allowed me to journal using my computer got all whacked out.  I think I was suppose to enter in some key number thingy that came with my computer, and I lost the 'key', therefore limiting my software capabilities- thus ending my private journaling needs.

Boo.

Moving on- I wanted to share something funny about this here blog thing.
I read myself.
Did that make sense?

I actually go back to my older entries, and get caught up 'reading' myself blog.  It's like a book.  Or somebody ELSE's blog.  Because I've forgotten 90% of the stuff I've written, and it's almost like this awesome portal back in time to see where I use to be.

The bummer about 'publishing' these blogs, though- is that I still have NO IDEA who is reading me.  Yet another reason I have so many 'unpublished' post.  I wish there was a blogger that allowed us to be 'private'.  Like- only my 'friends' can read what I'm posting.  Only the people I 'accept'.  Sort of like a Facebook Blogger thing.

I also would really like to figure out how to put cute backgrounds on this thing, and set it up in a way that makes it more 'me'.  I saw a few folks that have all sorts of pretty designs on THEIR blog.  I want a pretty design, too.  I want the layout to be better.  I want a new car, too.  (Just thought I'd throw that one in while I was ranting about what I 'want'. Toyota Highlander w/ the 3rd row option please.  Leather.  Hybrid if you can find it.  Thanks.....)

Speaking of looking back into different portals of time- I read some of my sisters journal from way back when in 1998 and 1999. Some of it was comical.  Some of it was a little "T.M.I" for my sensitive little eyes- but there was one entry that I'll never forget.

It was an entry about ME.  She said I shouldn't think too much of it.  "I mean?  We were younger, then."

But.  It's significant.  It allowed me to look a little further into my past and see 'who I was' from another persons perspective.  It wasn't pretty.  I was angry.  Bitter.  Easily annoyed.  MEAN!

This was 11 and 12 years ago, and I bet if you asked my husband today, he'd say the SAME thing about me as she did.

The written word doesn't hide the truth does it?  I'm in a reality check (yet again).  Ready for that ULTIMATE change.  Ready to NEVER ever go back.  I've been ready for it, actually.  Ready for a long time!  Something just needs to get broken in me, I guess?

Saturday morning I turned back into Mr. Hyde after having him gone for quite some time.  Sadly- after going to that link and making sure I was using the correct terminology (thanks Google) I realized something painful.  That analogy "Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde" is used to indicate a split personality.  Now- before anyone gets all judgmental and hoo-hah-ee, let me clarify that I do NOT have a split personality.  There is no secret person living down deep in my psyche- just a little girl that got totally screwed up (thanks Mom) somewhere in my child hood and I've yet to figure out what it IS exactly that causes these outburst of anger, frustration, bitterness and malice.

I was plain ol' MEAN.  On purpose.  I just let go of all restraint and attacked full force with the most projectile word vomit you could imagine.  If any one of my closest friends had been a fly on the wall, they'd probably have thrown up out of SHOCK.

My husbands words to me tonight: "I'm not mad at you anymore.  I just look at you differently."

Wow.

WOW!

See?  He's seen Mr. Hyde on many occasions in our marriage.  But- Mr. Hyde's been on 'holiday' for a long time.  I guess Joshua is discouraged that 'he' wasn't gone forever and ever.  I am, too.

Not that I've got any excuse for the above behavior (in which you'll just have to use your imagination, cause I'm not spilling out details), but I do want to make it known that there was a 'trigger'.  I don't know the EXACT trigger that created the lack of refrain in me- but there was 'something' that just blew the top off the containment- a few 'somethings' come to mind- but I can't pinpoint the exact one.  Wish I could.

For future reference to myself, though- I know for sure that I'm dealing with UNFORGIVENESS.

Toward Joshua?  Myself?  My mom?  My dad?  My uncle's cousin's friend's brother??? Who knows!?!?  I just know it's there.  And I want it GONE. For. Gooood!!!

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40 Days

 It's very biblical.  There are so many instances in the Bible that God allowed us to see that "Forty relates to a period of evident probation".  


The link above will take us to a few scripture references that allow us to see the number 40 in action.  It's a period of trial.  


For a few weeks I've been telling myself that I really need to give up wheat and sugar. Not forever- but for a period of time.  I've just been feeling crummy lately.  In my body.  In my mind.  All together.


 I am experiencing what I'd like to call "Dwarf Syndrome"-  Grumpy, Sleepy, Dopey, Bashful, Sneezy- and NOT at all Happy.  I feel like I've been in desperate need of a Doc.  No kidding- I've considered just getting put on a thousand and one medicines to relieve my symptoms.


However- having been (self) trained in all things 'natural health' I realized that my poor diet HAD to be the culprit.  Mega doses of bread and chocolate, pie, ice cream, biscuits, pasta, and super LOW doses of raw fruits, veggies, lean meats, fresh fish, etc took me to this place of YUCK.  I'm a miserable person- through and through!!!  God layed that 40 day thing right in my lap.  He KNEW I needed to start kicking it high gear and 'learning' myself that whole "Self Control" thing.  


Thus, on Sunday December 27, 2009 I decided that my 40 days had to begin.  No wheat.  No sugar.  My body needs a break!  To be honest, I'd not really thought clearly about the significance of '40' when calling out that number as the time I was to fast this food- I was actually be practical.   Due to a soon-coming health reform via a certain 'diet', which happens to also last a 40 day period, I decided it'd be best to start training myself in a little something called "Self-Control".  I need LOTS of training in that department.  


So, I marked my calendar.  And counted out 40 days.  Start: December 27.  End: February 4.  


Oh?  I should clarify.  February 4 is my 29th birthday.  I DID NOT plan this.  Not at all.  


Exactly 28 days AFTER that 40 day trial puts me smack dab on March 3, 2010-  my 10 year Anniversary.   Bet your wondering the significance of 28?  Yes?  No???


Ok.  I'll tell you.


28 is a multiple of 7- "Spiritual Perfection"  or "Perfect"  
4 is accounted for in this number, meaning "Creation" 


I want to do more research to understand what it is exactly that God is trying teach me with all of these very significant numbers. 


And 10?  It marks our 10 year anniversary.  What does 10 mean? 


 "Ten is one of the perfect numbers, and signifies the perfection of Divine order."


I love it that God is teaching me through these numbers!!!   ON MY WALL- I HAVE WRITTEN- "Divine Order".  In our bedroom.  On my husbands side of the bed to be exact.  "Divine Order".  There's more to be said about this statement- because it was taught to me a while back that THIS is the year for divine order.   


I know that to the 'naked' eye all this seems hokey and strange.  But- as stated in my previous blogs- these blogs are mainly for me.  Other folks just get to 'tag along' as I'm writing out my life lessons.


I'm going trough a 40 day trial.  I want EVEN more to succeed in my 'fast'.  (Please note- this was not intended to be a fast for spiritual reasons- it was purely based on health and wellness.  God just decided to put His awesome hand on my 'plan' to make it HIS.  Or?  IS it the other way around?  I don't know.)


I can't wait to continue to study the number 40. 


I'm also going to read through this site and try to see if it's a 'hokey' place to glean from.  I found it while researching "40 days".  So far- it looks kind of interesting.  I can't pass it up- especially KNOWING that God is trying really hard to show me something!

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Worry Not....

Every morning, at o'dark thirty.... sometime in between 5:00 and 6:00 AM, my husband comes into our room to tell me goodbye. Some of the time, he lays down beside me and snuggles with me for a few minutes, or he'll sit on the side of the bed, patiently amused while I try to wake up enough to mutter "Hey sweetie.....bye....... honey...... I love you.......mmmm.... Be........ careful."

A sinking, sad feeling usually rises up when I hear the front door close. I start praying that he'll be safe... that God will keep His hand on him, and supernaturally protect him. I try not to worry, but it's so hard not to think about the numerous unsafe circumstances he will be in, or could get in.

Aside from the fact that my husband's drive into "the office" is unsafe due to bald tires and windy mountain roads- he also makes his way from 'the office' to the big city of Atlanta via Ga. 400 at 7:00 AM, and 5:00 PM..... it's like russian roulette- you're either going to make it home with out a wreck, or you're NOT. (He has had several- SEVERAL- fender benders in the past few months. "The Other Guy" runs into his (massive) truck, he sees no damage, and worries not about the technical need for the 911 call.)

Once in the designated area for work- whether it be a residential house in the luxury of a gated community or a commercial building in the depth of the Atlanta "Hood", the real danger becomes present.

He runs up and down ladders carrying heavy material on his shoulder. He walks, crawls, and sits on roofs rising from a simple 1 story flat roof to a terribly steep 3 story, and UP.

Once- he fell OFF a roof straight onto his back, and recently- his helper fell from a 2 story roof. Neither were hurt (badly)- but it makes it clear that this career that my husband is in, it is NOT safe at ALL.

I have found myself in a panic here and there- after a long 'discussion' the night before, and poor use of my vocabulary (saying words I didn't mean)- and having too much pride to apologize before he went off to work the following morning. "What if something happens to him? I didn't tell him I loved him. I didn't hug him.....What if will I do if I don't have him here to take care of us?"

I try not to worry so much- and usually- I can contain it.

But- the other day-one of the things I had feared the most occurred. On the way into work, on a windy mountain road, with wet pavement and a dark sky, he had a front tire blow out. My husband was driving our old truck, "Blue". A a '77 Ford 4wd, 4-speed that needs so much work- including a new steering mechanism. (No power steering, and a LOT of 'give' in the steering wheel.)

What a terrible situation. OH!!!! It's dark. It's rainy. It's DAHLONEGA- the town that recently found itself minus one "Good Samaritan".  (a citizen had had stopped to help a motorist, and was hit by a car)

But the Lord had His hand on my man.  It could have been terrible.  The FRONT tire of a big, blue truck with  terrible steering blows... in the RAIN.... in the dark.... IN THE MOUNTAINs of Dahlonega.  

"Worry Not my child.  I will take care of you.  I will provide for you.  I will protect you."   -God

He was talking to me.  Not Joshua.  Taking care of me equals taking care of my husband.  Protecting me means protecting my husband.

Joshua did not wreck.  He moved over to the side of the road- where there 'just happened' to be a little 'side road' for him to park Blue on.  Out of the way of the crazy drivers.  Out of the way.  Safe.

Thanks, Lord.  You love me sooo much.

Hand over the Diploma

I am not qualified for this job.

I haven't earned the necessary degrees that would require me to to be a mom.

Patience.

Self Control.

Anger Management.

Organization.

It's 'that time' of the month.  And- to add to the frustration of 'being a woman', I'm looking around our back yard, and each room of our house, and realizing that it's all full of JUNK.  Just junk.  Toys that haven't been played with in over a year- books and old sesame street videos that do nothing but call out to the dust bunnies that live in every crevice all over our house.

I'm looking at our school curriculum asking myself how it would be POSSIBLE to finish this week's lessons.  I'm looking at the random TRASH the dog has chewed up, tore out, and has randomly spread through out the front, side, and back yards.  I'm looking at my unwashed (graying by the minute, in desperate need of a cut) hair, and I"m wondering when I get to (not only look) FEEL like an attractive, wanted woman.

I'm thinking about the blow up I had with Kyla this morning.  I'm asking myself when I am going to figure out that she isn't a teenager (though she acts like one) and that she is only SIX YEARS OLD!  I can't expect her to understand .

I'm angry right now.  I'm mad that my husband, as I type this, is sitting down at a restaraunt taking his 'lunch break' while I'm here- at home- using my 'break' to vent my annoyance with MYSELF.   He's eating a delicious meal while my stomach growls at me because I've not had the time to eat breakfast- or lunch!!!

I suck at being a mom.  People tell me "You're such a good mom".  And I cringe!!!!!!    People told MY MOM that she was a good mom.  They were fooled.  She was so mean to us.  She was so impatient.  She expressed every ounce of frustration, and she took it ALL out on us.  I'm trying to avoid her footsteps and stay away from her style of parenting- but it creeps up into my day to day.  It's a constant battle.

I was never qualified to do this job.  I should have been required to at least take a class.......

More

It's the time of year that causes an unintentional stress.  Around November, I think to myself- "This Christmas, I'm not going to be overwhelmed."   And then December comes along..... and here I am... overwhelmed.  


It's been a constant, for years, that Christmas brings an empty bank account.  You'd think we'd have made the necessary adjustments in our budget to prevent this, but the cycle has continued.  It's not so much that we have any needs... no!... God has totally provided.


I think it's more the struggle with wanting more.  More gifts to give.  More gifts to get.  More decorations.  More ornaments.  More.  Just a desire to have more.  


And it's so frustrating, because if you were to peek into our house- at all the clutter- you'd realize that we certainly do NOT need any more.  We're working toward cleaning out the more.  


A wise woman once shared with me that most of the time- our outside desires stem from a desire to take care of our inside.  Our spirit. 


 When I feel chaotic, I think to myself "I've got to clean our house.  I've got to organize everything."  I feel frantic with a need to rid our house of clutter, to clean my car out, to reorganize the cupboards, and the closets, and move furniture around, hoping to make it more Fung She.   


If I stop- and really think clearly about the chaos, I am forced into a realization that it has little to do with the disorganization in my house- but mostly to do with the disorganization in my mind, in my heart... in my spirit.


And here it is, Christmas Time, and I feel as though I need more stuff.  More.  More.  More.  If I believe the afore mentioned comparison... I'd have to say that this desire for 'more' has little to do with the stuff I want, but mostly to do with the desire I have to feed my spirit MORE.  I need more Jesus.  I need more of Him.  I need a deeper relationship with My Father.  I need more, I need more, I need more.......


And I need more because my ''bank account'' has been low for so long.  So, SO long I've been just barely getting by in my Walk- because I've not used my time wisely.  I've not used the resources that The Lord has layed in my lap, saying "Here ya go.  You're got everything you need to flourish.  Your 'account' has the ability to stay full."    To symbolize- I've been given a check, and I've not deposited it. (I've been given the Word, and I'm not using it.)


HA!  It's amazing.  Just like our actual bank account- we've always got enough to pay the bills, to take care of the core needs we have- but typically- there's no extra to use in case of emergencies..... .  And the symbolism continues- because I have 'just enough' Jesus to get me through the day to day... but when I'm in an emergency situation (battling) I haven't got enough Truth to get out of it.


So I suffer.  I get confused.  I get overwhelmed. 


And the shameful truth is that I don't need to a 'raise' or a 'job' or a 'credit card' to get more of what I really need (and want).  I need self control (it's free, but it ain't cheap baby!).   


It's more painful to acknowledge how terribly I've squandered my time than it is to realize how unwise we've been in our finances.  So my mind likes to project the 'desire' for more in the physical.  It's easier that way.


Thank you GOD for not letting me stay in my stupid.  

Go Horsey. Go.

Leah sits on a wipes container- and says "Go Horsie.  Go!"  

She repeats this phrase atleast 243 times- totally content with her horsey being the empty lavender colored Huggies box that has been floatin all around our house.  

That box has been used as a step stool.  A box to put our blocks in, and our clothes pins, and other misc. favorites that need to be 'saved'.    And of course... now..  a horsey.

Do It Anyway... I know.

Just as I opened up my blogger page.....  as if it was queued on purpose (thanks, God) Ceili Rain started singing "Do It Anyway"......   "Your scared to color outside the border.... oh... do it anyway!   Your scared if you say 'that', people'll laugh at you.... oh... do it anyway.   Your scared of what I say because it might be true.... OH! Do it Anyway!"

"Your scared to let your friends depend on you.... do it anyway.  You might surprise the both of you and come through..... COME ON NOW... do it anyway!!  Do it anyway!  Do it anyway!  Do. It. ANYWAY!"

There's an unraveling of truth happening right now.  And, LORD, I am so thankful that I 'did it anyway' when God told me to 'say that' regardless of who might laugh at me.  That I wasn't too scared of what I said, because it might be true.  No. Not what "I" said.  Not my words; just my voice.  God used my voice, and I can't actually comprehend how it is that my voice is what matters; but God used me.  I 'did it anyway'.

But here's the downside.  He told me to 'do it anyway' a long time ago.  He told me to say "WHATEVER it is your doing.... STOP!  Just stop."   Nothing more.  Nothing less.  Just "STOP".

Those words have rung in my ears for a long... long.... LONG time.  I never spoke them to who I was meant to speak them to.  I was afraid I'd get laughed at.  I didn't KNOW what was 'to be' stopped.  I couldn't offer any clarification, so I stalled.  I froze.  I didn't 'do it anyway'.  I wish I had.  I can't say it would have changed anything.  But it would have meant that I obeyed.  That's all that really matters.  And I feel sad, and convicted, yet ELATED, and overwhelmed.

GOD!!!  Wow.  WOW.  Why would you use me????  He chose me to speak up, speak out, make declarations, and amazingly, to PROPHESY(!?!?!?!).

I understood in all of it's fullness what God has intended for the gifts He's given me, and in the same realization, I realized I was FAILING (miserably).  He wants to use me.  HE WANTS TO USE ME?????!!!!  Yep.  He does.  For real.  Even in my short-comings, He's telling me "Do. IT. Anyway!"