Friday, March 29, 2013

Unanswered calls,
Questions still hanging.
Waiting for you
And the silence is clanging

Ringing around in my ears
clouding my mind.
Shattering self worth
I've worked so hard to find.

I've come at you with anger
I've come to you with tears
I've screamed to break your silence,
I've cried so many years,

I used to try so hard to please
to be someone you'd finally see,
But it was never good enough
to make you look one time at me.

I told myself I could just change
I'd be the one you wanted
but I'm tired now, it didn't pay
and you, still empty, haunted.

So we circled awhile
out of each other's way
drifting in and out
of an endless stream of days.

Going throught the motions
keeping our routines
but I'm tired now, its hasn't paid
but I don't know what that means.

I've come at you with anger
I've come to you with tears
I've screamed to break your silence,
I've cried so many years.

I've come to know I'll never
feel needed, loved and warm,
So now I pray for strength to stay
and live with what is done.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

On Being Open

I have never been good at the games people play in social life.  I opt to surround myself with people who will say what is on their mind, and allow me to do the same.  People who, like me, do our best not to offend, but who keep ulterior motives off the shelf. I've found that I am just not any good at doing it any other way.  This also means that I keep my guard up, instinctively, until I have tested the waters a bit.

But here in blogland it is different.  I still aim to be open and honest, but I have to accept that not everyone who reads what I have to say will appreciate it.  But I have to be ok with that.  On this blog, I have already opened myself up far deeper and wider than I have to most people in person. In fact, all but one or two.  So here's what I ask.  Take me for what I am. My blog "personality" and my IRL personality are essentially the same, but writing is a passion and a release for me. Something I love to do whether anyone wants to read it or not.  Maybe you feel I share too much here, or even in person, and that's ok with me. You don't have to read what I write. But everything I write comes from deep within me, and I don't think there is anything good that comes from false pretenses.  I have a lot of things in my past, present and future, and while I don't feel the need to share it all with everyone, I have a feeling that if I continue to blog, much of it will be mentioned here and there, in bits and pieces, and I'm ok with that. 

Everything in my life that has happened to this day, has been part of shaping who I am today. And as life continues to unfold before me I will continue to be shaped by it.  I refuse to let circumstances from the past, or any that may come my way, to make me be afraid to be who I am... and since I am pretty reserved in person, I guess maybe this blog is my way of opening the doors a little. Letting a little light in, one step at a time.  Toughening up my confidence in who I am as a friend, a wife, a mom, a woman, a Christian who maybe doesn't seem like a lot of the other Christians out there, a daughter, a "writer", a creative being, etc etc etc.

So should I end this speech with a "tadaa!!" a "thanks", or what??

How about just hasta la vista, I gotta pick up my babies!

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

The Post In Which I Start Out Aimlessly Babbling And End In A Rant

I bore easily. Not to say I don't have enough to do, its more like I don't have enough that I want to do. I have even fewer things that I want to finish once I've started them. I. Just. Get. Bored. With. It.  I like to think its because I'm super smart or something, like my brain is moving so fast that my body just can't keep up.  Nope. But I do get distracted a lot.

What was I saying?

Anyway, crap, I forgot about what I was going to blog about today. Seriously. I actually distracted myself.  I considered rambling on about the Craft Ninjas of Collin County thingy that a few of my friends and I are getting started, but since there are going to be no fewer than 24 people in my home, and I'm going to have to actually clean said home before they get here, I'd really rather not talk about it.  Don't get me wrong, I'm completely and totally excited, and I know it will be amazing, especially in the long run.  But at the moment I'm more in a place of terror than peace about it.  I'll get over it.

Hmm, ok, I got it. I'm going to spill my beans about the Gay Marriage Civil Rights Jazz that is going on in the Supreme Court right now. That'll stir the pot, cuz I know for a fact my opinion is more liberal than my family for one.

Here's the thing. well, there are a long of things, but first off, the issues going before the court at the moment are not about wether or not gay couples should be allowed to get married.  Right now that's a state by state thing.  What we're talking about it wether or not gay couples who have been married in a state that has previously legalized gay marriage, are entitled to insurance, health and other benefits that a straight couple is entitled to.  I don't understand why this is not ok. I know some would argue that they don't want their tax money going toward the social institutions that end up paying out to these families in addition to the straight ones, but wow, that is a hell of a dangerous path to go down. Are they less deserving, less human, less valuable simply because they live a different lifestyle? Hello slippery slope! Regardless of sexual orientation, all people should be entitled to the security that insurance and other benefits provide to families.

Next, here's where I'm probably going to offend the other side.  While my views continue to morph, I still believe that homosexual relationships are not in God's plan.  However, I know and have known lots of gay people and some that I care about deeply.  And I don't feel like they have to change to be a part of my life. Their sexuality is part of their life, but its not what defines them. Just a piece of the puzzle, a piece that really doesn't affect me at all.  I don't necesarily want to throw the "sin" word out there, but even if I did, don't I sin?  Haven't I walked down a million paths that were clearly not the ones God had paved for me?  Hasn't he met me where I'm at every single time and offered me grace and love? Right there. Not on condition of change, but right where I'm at. Forgiven. And yes, I do believe that true repentance for outrights sins requires a desire to change, but I don't think we always know or feel, big picture the things that need to change all at one time. We take baby steps. I believe God walks us one step at a time, and can and does do the same thing for lesbians and gays who love Him. Its not our business where in our walk they are. If or when God is going to ask them to "change."  There is a big IF in there.

Which leads me to another point. Good grief I'm rambling on!  Since when did God or Jesus reach out to anyone by shunning them. Shutting them out and belittling them. NEVER.  He sat down with the prostitute and chatted with her. He invited himself over to dinner with Zaccheus. He sent away the people who wanted to stone the adulteress.  PEOPLE YOU ARE THROWING STONES HERE!  STOP IT!  For real!  Wether you believe homosexuality is wrong or not, I think of anything in scripture that makes it any worse than what you and I do on a daily basis. And thank God for grace. Literally.  Isn't that what we want? To share and spread God's grace? His love and forgiveness? That was what and how he preached.  The Ten Commandments are real and true and should be followed. But Jesus made it clear that more important than any of those things is LOVE. LOVE.  And that if you do anything, do it with love or don't do it at all. Seriously people, look into your heart and see that you are not treating gays and lesbians with love. You aren't treating them as your brother, sister, neighbor.  You are treating them as sub-human and dispicable, and Jesus NEVER treated anyone that way. Never.  Because, for one thing, it does not work toward His ultimate purpose of drawing His people to Him.  And by HIS PEOPLE I mean all who love him.  Gays, straights, baptists, adulterers, porn addicts, alcoholics, gossips, tax collectors, etc. We are all His children, and he wants ALL of us to learn and know of his love and grace.  But anger, resentment, discrimination, those things don't show God's love. In fact, they are no part of who God is.

Look around for someone in your life that is gay, and see the world through their eyes. See the hardship they have faced, regardless of wether it is a choice or not. If it is a choice they have made, it sure hasn't been an easy one, and I can guarantee they have payed a heavy price for their choice. Its not our job to dole out that heaviness.  We are to be God's arms and legs of love and service.  Be an ally, not a heavy chain pulling them away from the light of God's love. And don't ask them to change. I'm sorry, but that is between them and God.

Monday, March 25, 2013

I try not to look in the mirror often. As little as possible in fact. At this point in my life, with three small children, the sad truth is that I am pretty sure I have, at one time or another, gone days without actually looking myself in the mirror. I know. Bad. Brushing my teeth? Yes. Every day. Without fail. But I close my eyes while I brush. No joke. That or run out to see which kid is hitting who or breaking what while I try to reach my farthest back teeth and order children around all at the same time through a bubbly toothpaste filled mouth before having to run back to the sink to spit. I know. Bad.

The truth is I can’t stand to look in the mirror, and I don’t relate to the image it portrays either. That women in there, she isn’t me. She ate me up or something and I’m stuck inside her belly rolls and chin fat and cankles. She has smothered me really. Or at least that’s what I tell myself when I find one excuse or another to stay on the couch or sew silly dolls instead of go to the gym or take my husky Yukon on a walk. My legs, my real legs used to do amazing things. In fact they were always one of my best qualities.

At 6 feet tall my legs were always long and lean and toned with chiseled calf muscles that carried me from high school and college sports through my final athletic feat, a marathon. 26.2 miles. The proudest day of my life. One I would never have been able to achieve without those beautiful calves. And without my mom’s well-meaning incredulity when I told her I wanted to run one. I’ve never been much of a finisher, so her doubt was well founded, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let someone tell me I can’t do something. And so I did. And my mother was my greatest cheerleader and ally through the training process. She’s good like that.

But that’s when this fat lazy old lady with wrinkles and lumps and blotches started to swallow me up. She was sneaky that one, moving in little by little. She kept telling me I deserved to let my body rest and recover just a little bit longer after that marathon. After all, I had worked hard and deserved a little rest, didn’t I? Just a little longer?

That was 9 years ago. Between then and now I got married, moved across the county to California, had three kids cut straight out of my belly, moved again to Texas where it’s just too damned hot most of the time to exercise, took up sewing, and that was that. Now those beautiful calves are lumpy cankles. The knees are surrounded by layers of soft stuff. What is that soft stuff? My legs have never had soft stuff before!?! The scar on my belly is one thing I never feel self-conscious about. Mostly because I can’t see down there over my baby belly. Nope, not pregnant again, just never stopped looking like it. Maybe I just want to trick my body into having that healthy baby glow too?? It doesn’t work, FYI.

I think I'll go sew a doll...

Friday, March 15, 2013


He is out there. Someone who really loved me back then. And who has been kind enough not to say that he loves me now that we have reconnected. He's not saying it because it is complicated, and the last thing he wants to do is make things more complicated. That is how he chooses to show his love.

But his voice. Oh his voice is just the same as it was 15 years ago. Strong and smooth, and warm. It makes me want to climb through the phone and into his deep blue eyes.  Oceans of life in there.  The blue eyes over here are the steely sort. Icy.  There may be depth somewhere behind them, but you'd have to break through impenetrable walls to get there.  Not that I haven't tried.  He only talks to me or touches me when he knows its make or break.  When he knows I'm about to walk out the door to freedom or to poison myself in my garage with the car running.

But on the other end of the line, there is no shortage of words and warmth and listening.  And in the mornings I am full of hope that someday I will be able to have that in my life. Have him back in my life. But by the afternoon I begin to doubt I ever will. I know this every morning, and you'd think I'd shut down that shimmer of hope to avoid the crash later on, but I won't do it.  That glimmer of hope is more than I've had in a long time.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Remember When

Remember when we would sit on your floor, talking, listening to music, just being together. Sometimes I had a ten page letter I had written for you, decorated with brightly colored doodles and fancy letters, pouring my heart out about this or that, like a child who has just discovered the rainbow. And someone who doesn’t mind hearing her talk. 

I never told you I was coming. I would just show up at your door in an odd, awkward way, blurring the lines between poor tact and love. But you always let me in. Always smiled. Made room for me in your life, in your home, on your floor. You offered me food which I always declined, because I never ate in those days. You didn’t mind that either. Come as you are. You are not judged here. 

Sometimes you would pick up your guitar and strum a few chords as we moved closer and closer together. And then eyes would lock. Maybe an hour later, maybe more. It just depended. It didn’t matter. But once they met and held each other’s gaze there was something magnetic that would spark. We got a little quieter. And then a little closer. And when you touched me, my skin tingled, and sparked in a way it has never done since. I can still feel your warm hand just below the hem of my shirt. Not a greedy hand, not a hand that was working to get what it wanted. Just the hand of someone who saw all of me, and never made me feel bad about being myself. A hand and a body that spread love and acceptance across my skin like a salve that smoothed the world over.  

When we made love I was awkward and inexperienced. I only knew the kind of sex that was unpredictable and asked too much of me, but that wasn’t you. You were strong and soft, and careful, and free. And in the end, you weren’t done with me when it was all over. I wasn’t a used piece of trash that had been crumpled and now needed tossing. You were still you, and I was still me. Even after we made love, you still looked at me with kindness. Not a victor, but a friend. A lover as lovers are intended to be. A partner and an equal.