In preparation for this post, I reviewed some of my previous ones. I realized that the previous few posts have been about some of the important people in my life. Well, I hope not to disappoint, but this one will follow suit. I've contemplated exactly what I wanted to say as there is much I want to communicate.
A common theme on my blog as well as in my life revolves around relationships. People come, and people go. Some leave a brief impression while others leave an impression that will forever be a part of the components creating my muchness. Each person's impression is woven into the fabric of my life in their own color of thread. I don't remember the first time I met many of the people in my life, but there is one of my life-long friends who does not fall into this category. I still vividly recall the day the Moore family came to West End Baptist Church "in view of a call". My church needed a pastor. Little did I know that he was bringing with him an 11 year old daughter who would become one of my best friends!
I still giggle when I recall her confession that she thought I was cool because I had Teen Spirit deodorant in my purse. Hey, at least I smelled good! Then, I think forward over our teen years spent together blundering through the years of becoming. People sometimes compared us to Lucy and Ethel (I was Lucy) as we always had some brilliant idea in the works. Her mom's kitchen was our laboratory where things like sour cream icing were created. Yes, it's as disgusting as it sounds. We could be found on the tennis court anytime we weren't at some type of church function. As doubles partners, we were a fierce team! Fried okra and Blue Bell Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream were always on the menu. Hours of dreaming took place as we lay flopped across her bed, never really anticipating where the road of life would take us.
Now, 18 years later, there are other things that I appreciate even more. Her home has become one of my favorite places to visit. I walk into the door, and within 3 minutes part of me feels like the teenage girl all over again. I can say anything, do anything, and be anything in her presence without the fear of judgment. The performance mentality is checked at the door, and I have the pleasure of just being me!
Today, I celebrate you, my Michie! Thanks for all that you mean to my life, all the things listed and the personal things I couldn't.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
I knew I was right!
Humans love to celebrate. We will party for almost anything, but few things truly deserve the effort of lauding. About 27 years and 8 months ago my parents shared with me that a little brother or sister would join our family in July. As a three year old I recall my excitement over having sister! Little did I know that all of the doctor's tests seemed to indicate that a brother was on the way. When my parents would discuss this with me, I adamantly refused to discuss anything other than my sister. My mother shared with me that she was a bit concerned how I would react when she brought the brother home from the hospital.
Then, July 6th, 1984, arrived and so did our baby! As I predicted, and to the doctor's utter surprise, my mom delivered the sister I said was on the way. I remember my daddy taking me to the hospital, and gazing at her through the glass of the nursery. I observed that her hair was black like daddy's, and I was ready to take her home then!
There is no way that a three and a half year old can imagine what an impact one person can have on your life, but at 30 I can say that my sister has been the greatest addition to my life! Our relationship has endured ups and downs, but we've always been there for one another.
My sister believes in my dreams more than I do. She understands my doubts and self-consciousness in ways that I cannot articulate, and don't have to. When I say things like "k-k-k" she cracks up (yes, that's an inside joke). There are more inside jokes than I can begin to list. She always makes me laugh. Her competitive drive is unparalleled. NEVER play Monopoly with her unless you intend to allow her to win. My baby sister inspires me!
I'm sorry that all of you only know her as friend. I smugly pleased that I'm the only one who can truly call her sister. Warning to the wise...don't miss with Carrie, or you have to deal with her big sister!
Happy birthday, baby sister!
Then, July 6th, 1984, arrived and so did our baby! As I predicted, and to the doctor's utter surprise, my mom delivered the sister I said was on the way. I remember my daddy taking me to the hospital, and gazing at her through the glass of the nursery. I observed that her hair was black like daddy's, and I was ready to take her home then!
There is no way that a three and a half year old can imagine what an impact one person can have on your life, but at 30 I can say that my sister has been the greatest addition to my life! Our relationship has endured ups and downs, but we've always been there for one another.
My sister believes in my dreams more than I do. She understands my doubts and self-consciousness in ways that I cannot articulate, and don't have to. When I say things like "k-k-k" she cracks up (yes, that's an inside joke). There are more inside jokes than I can begin to list. She always makes me laugh. Her competitive drive is unparalleled. NEVER play Monopoly with her unless you intend to allow her to win. My baby sister inspires me!
I'm sorry that all of you only know her as friend. I smugly pleased that I'm the only one who can truly call her sister. Warning to the wise...don't miss with Carrie, or you have to deal with her big sister!
Happy birthday, baby sister!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
My Own Steel Magnolias
The 1990 movie "Steel Magnolias" is arguably the best women's movie of our time, and quite possibly the best female movie ever made to this point. "Steel Magnolias" is one of my most favorite movies that I have never tired of viewing. I recall seeing it the first time as a young lady, and enjoying a movie about a group of ladies. As I have matured, so have my perspectives on the movie. The movie never fails to make me laugh and cry, almost simultaneously. "Laughter through tears..." as Dolly Parton's character says to Darryl Hanna's character is one of the things I've grown to recognize and appreciate as an adult. I now appreciate this movie for displaying the intricacies, and community, involved in female relationships. So, in recognition of Mother's Day, I dedicate this post to my own community of Steel Magnolias.
I see many similarities between my mother and Malinn (Sally Field). My dear mother has stood next to a hospital bed holding my hand more times than a mother should ever have to do. Like Malinn, she's had doctors tell her there's nothing else medically available to cure the ails of her daughter. But, like Malinn, my momma always refused to accept anything other than the best for me! When I was 16, I endured a series of asthma attacks that nearly claimed my life. I spent a week in the hospital, and she only left once when she knew I was safe in the care of a church couple who adopted us, and I call Grandma and Grandpa Williams. My daddy told her it was ok to go, but it wasn't until I craved a cheeseburger from Whataburger that she dared to leave. She wanted to keep me calm and happy, so that's why she left, to get my cheeseburger. My mother never gave a kidney for me as Malinn did for Shelby, but she gave something more. She gave herself. Most years of my childhood she stayed at home caring for my sister and me. She has the smarts to hold a lucrative job, but she stayed focused on us instead. My mother seems sweet and passive during general interaction, but let me assure you that there are a few teachers and principals out there who know quickly she morphs into the protective momma bear when her children are attacked. Even as an adult, I always know she's got my back.
Barbara Sandiford and Kim Kaufman are my Clairee and Louisa. These are two classy ladies who have kept me basically star struck since I met them over 10 years ago. Both are globe trotters who are always a phone call, text message, email, or facebook post away. They are like peanut butter and jelly. They just belong together, and are frequently linked in my mind. I consider Barbara my spiritual mom, and therefore Kim is my spiritual aunt. Both ladies have imparted to me a sense of style, organization, self-respect, Love for God, integrity, and many more characteristics than I have space to list. These queen bees influenced my life during the years of becoming in a more long-lasting way than anyone else I have the honor of calling my friends. Both Barbara and Kim will always have a special place in my heart.
Dottie Lewis is hands down my Truvy (Dolly Parton). There is so much to say about my Dottie, so where do I begin? While Barbara and Kim helped me to recognize the person in the mirror, Dottie helped me to discover how to use my giftings in the world around me. Under her guidance, I learned to serve a pastor and his church to the best of my abilities. She served as my personal editor almost every morning a paper was due, because I always waited until the night before the due date to complete the paper. Yes, she always encouraged me to finish my assignments before the deadline, but eventually recognized that I did my best writing in the wee hours under pressure. She acted as the driving force behind encouraging me to dare to chase my dreams, especially the ones that seemed impossible. I applied for the summer semester in Spain as a result of her encouragement. Dottie taught me how to fly with my own set of wings. She is the wind beneath my wings!
Listed above are only a few of the ladies who make up my personal grove of Steel Magnolias. I look up to each of them in awe. There are many of you who have influenced my life. These are merely the tallest, biggest, and strongest magnolia trees in the grove of my life. Today, I honor each of them for participating in molding me into the woman I see in the mirror. I also thank the rest of you who make up the other trees in my magnolia forest. You all know who you are, because if you are reading this it's likely you're a magnolia too!
I see many similarities between my mother and Malinn (Sally Field). My dear mother has stood next to a hospital bed holding my hand more times than a mother should ever have to do. Like Malinn, she's had doctors tell her there's nothing else medically available to cure the ails of her daughter. But, like Malinn, my momma always refused to accept anything other than the best for me! When I was 16, I endured a series of asthma attacks that nearly claimed my life. I spent a week in the hospital, and she only left once when she knew I was safe in the care of a church couple who adopted us, and I call Grandma and Grandpa Williams. My daddy told her it was ok to go, but it wasn't until I craved a cheeseburger from Whataburger that she dared to leave. She wanted to keep me calm and happy, so that's why she left, to get my cheeseburger. My mother never gave a kidney for me as Malinn did for Shelby, but she gave something more. She gave herself. Most years of my childhood she stayed at home caring for my sister and me. She has the smarts to hold a lucrative job, but she stayed focused on us instead. My mother seems sweet and passive during general interaction, but let me assure you that there are a few teachers and principals out there who know quickly she morphs into the protective momma bear when her children are attacked. Even as an adult, I always know she's got my back.
Barbara Sandiford and Kim Kaufman are my Clairee and Louisa. These are two classy ladies who have kept me basically star struck since I met them over 10 years ago. Both are globe trotters who are always a phone call, text message, email, or facebook post away. They are like peanut butter and jelly. They just belong together, and are frequently linked in my mind. I consider Barbara my spiritual mom, and therefore Kim is my spiritual aunt. Both ladies have imparted to me a sense of style, organization, self-respect, Love for God, integrity, and many more characteristics than I have space to list. These queen bees influenced my life during the years of becoming in a more long-lasting way than anyone else I have the honor of calling my friends. Both Barbara and Kim will always have a special place in my heart.
Dottie Lewis is hands down my Truvy (Dolly Parton). There is so much to say about my Dottie, so where do I begin? While Barbara and Kim helped me to recognize the person in the mirror, Dottie helped me to discover how to use my giftings in the world around me. Under her guidance, I learned to serve a pastor and his church to the best of my abilities. She served as my personal editor almost every morning a paper was due, because I always waited until the night before the due date to complete the paper. Yes, she always encouraged me to finish my assignments before the deadline, but eventually recognized that I did my best writing in the wee hours under pressure. She acted as the driving force behind encouraging me to dare to chase my dreams, especially the ones that seemed impossible. I applied for the summer semester in Spain as a result of her encouragement. Dottie taught me how to fly with my own set of wings. She is the wind beneath my wings!
Listed above are only a few of the ladies who make up my personal grove of Steel Magnolias. I look up to each of them in awe. There are many of you who have influenced my life. These are merely the tallest, biggest, and strongest magnolia trees in the grove of my life. Today, I honor each of them for participating in molding me into the woman I see in the mirror. I also thank the rest of you who make up the other trees in my magnolia forest. You all know who you are, because if you are reading this it's likely you're a magnolia too!
Monday, February 21, 2011
It's a Mullet Sighting!
Yes, that is undoubtedly a mullet. What I see is not one of those horrible haircuts from the early 1990’s, but those silly jumping fish I grew up watching in amusement while at the lake or the river. Mullets randomly pop out of the water just for the fun of it I suppose. I should have consulted with my marine biologist friend, Amanda, before typing this post, but alas I did not. So, we will have to rely on my assumptions about the mysterious mullets. The mullet I see is in my imagination. The mullet in my imagination is me. They randomly pop out of the water, occasionally ending up stuck out of the water and flopping around trying to get back to the safety of the water.
Two weekends ago I spent some much needed time with some ladies who constantly encourage me, Mrs. Dottie Lewis and Mrs. Barbara Sandiford. The more time I spent with these ladies, the more my world seemed to center itself again. The world, my world, came more clearly into focus than I had seen it in seven months! With such clarity I saw that I have been one of those silly mullets over the last few months. I saw myself as the fish that popped out of the water, desperately flopping around trying to find the water again. My life has seemed completely out of control. Where is the blasted stream?! Where is my direction?! Both have been out of reach and certainly out of focus. This was just the beginning of a weekend of revelations.
I experienced one of those life-defining moments of epiphany during a conversation with my dear mentor, Barbara. I realized that I could no longer identify my dreams. WOW! This was a startling realization. It was somewhat humiliating to admit to myself. My dreams have always been something that oddly defined my drive for life, so I was startled by the revelation that I no longer had any. I quickly decided it was time to sit down, seek the Father’s heart, and determine what dreams He has been waiting to share with me.
I’ve started a new list of dreams! Some of them scare me to even day dream about, while others cause me to stare at them with a familiar glint of determination in my eye. I know I can do it!
Everything is not better overnight. There are still circumstances that are extremely challenging to endure right now, but I am reminded this is just a season of my life. This little mullet is finally back in the water, and enjoying the security of the stream.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
I hate falling
No, I'm not afraid of heights. I merely hate the feeling of falling. The landing part usually is not the best of experiences either, come to think of it. After much contemplation, I realized part of the reason I do not like the feeling of falling because there is no way for me to control the situation. What am I supposed to grab onto to change the situation? Air?! That does not work so effectively.
My description for 2010 is a year of falling. The first 5 months were the run to the cliff of the month of May, and my life shifted in a dramatic way. I jumped off of a cliff, and feel like I've been falling for the last 6 months. As a falling person will flail their arms and legs in attempt to right their situation, I have not always gracefully handled the drastic changes. The last 6 months seem to have flown past me just like the landscape does when falling from Dungeon Drop or some other dropper-coaster. (Yes, these are my LEAST favorite of all rides!)
The final evening of 2010 was something akin to landing. I was the worst kind of mess. Bruises, scrapes, bumps, and breaks decorated my mental, emotional, and spiritual bodies. It was quite possibly the worst day of the entire year. Thankfully, someone came to my rescue and acted as my soul's paramedic! My sister is a nurse in more ways than just her profession. The gift of her life remains one of the most precious gifts ever given to me. She cleaned my wounds, patched me up, and sent me to bed.
As always seems to be the case, I felt so much better in the morning! Yes, the injuries are still there, but they are healing. The balm of love restores breaks. The salve of encouragement soothes scrapes. The ointment of belief shrinks bumps. The liniment of care erases the pain of bruises. Often in merely being ourselves we touch others in ways that we never fully understand. So, my friends, I challenge you to truly be yourself in 2011. Touch the world around you in a way that only you can.
My description for 2010 is a year of falling. The first 5 months were the run to the cliff of the month of May, and my life shifted in a dramatic way. I jumped off of a cliff, and feel like I've been falling for the last 6 months. As a falling person will flail their arms and legs in attempt to right their situation, I have not always gracefully handled the drastic changes. The last 6 months seem to have flown past me just like the landscape does when falling from Dungeon Drop or some other dropper-coaster. (Yes, these are my LEAST favorite of all rides!)
The final evening of 2010 was something akin to landing. I was the worst kind of mess. Bruises, scrapes, bumps, and breaks decorated my mental, emotional, and spiritual bodies. It was quite possibly the worst day of the entire year. Thankfully, someone came to my rescue and acted as my soul's paramedic! My sister is a nurse in more ways than just her profession. The gift of her life remains one of the most precious gifts ever given to me. She cleaned my wounds, patched me up, and sent me to bed.
As always seems to be the case, I felt so much better in the morning! Yes, the injuries are still there, but they are healing. The balm of love restores breaks. The salve of encouragement soothes scrapes. The ointment of belief shrinks bumps. The liniment of care erases the pain of bruises. Often in merely being ourselves we touch others in ways that we never fully understand. So, my friends, I challenge you to truly be yourself in 2011. Touch the world around you in a way that only you can.
Monday, November 22, 2010
A Farewell Address
This is my farewell address to my 20's:
I posted on Facebook earlier today, "So this is what the last day in my 20's feels like." A friend responded, "Doesn't it feel like the day before 20?" What a great question! Naturally, it prompted me to think and compare the two.
I recall such anticipation in turning 20. Changing decades meant I wasn't a teen anymore, and that I had somehow survived something. This survival also qualified me with a certain amount of experience, meaning that I was finally an adult! My life was about to change drastically only 6 weeks later, and in many ways it was about to truly begin.
I found myself in my 20's. At last I began the journey of discovery. Training in missionary outreach, traveling to India, studying in Europe, working in the ministry, earning a college education, enduring 9/11, moving to the big city all by myself, maintaining my singularity, and truly beginning to understand the value of relationships are all some of the most valuable milestones of my 20's. Some claim that their teens were the time of my life. Frankly, you could not pay me to return to my teens! It will take me another few decades to conclusively decide, but I suspect that my 20's will always be the proverbial time of my life. So, my 20's, I thank you for some of the best, and some of the most difficult, times of my life.
Do I feel 30? I am still not sure exactly how it is supposed to feel. I do feel that you, my 20's, have prepared me for what the future holds. I am not scared of entering the next decade, and it is only because you have so appropriately prepared me over the past 10 years. Thank you for the amazing people you brought into my life to assist in my metamorphosis. Thank you for a decade of growth and discovery. Thank you for 10 years of "becoming". I will spend a lifetime reflecting on your influence in my muchness.
I posted on Facebook earlier today, "So this is what the last day in my 20's feels like." A friend responded, "Doesn't it feel like the day before 20?" What a great question! Naturally, it prompted me to think and compare the two.
I recall such anticipation in turning 20. Changing decades meant I wasn't a teen anymore, and that I had somehow survived something. This survival also qualified me with a certain amount of experience, meaning that I was finally an adult! My life was about to change drastically only 6 weeks later, and in many ways it was about to truly begin.
I found myself in my 20's. At last I began the journey of discovery. Training in missionary outreach, traveling to India, studying in Europe, working in the ministry, earning a college education, enduring 9/11, moving to the big city all by myself, maintaining my singularity, and truly beginning to understand the value of relationships are all some of the most valuable milestones of my 20's. Some claim that their teens were the time of my life. Frankly, you could not pay me to return to my teens! It will take me another few decades to conclusively decide, but I suspect that my 20's will always be the proverbial time of my life. So, my 20's, I thank you for some of the best, and some of the most difficult, times of my life.
Do I feel 30? I am still not sure exactly how it is supposed to feel. I do feel that you, my 20's, have prepared me for what the future holds. I am not scared of entering the next decade, and it is only because you have so appropriately prepared me over the past 10 years. Thank you for the amazing people you brought into my life to assist in my metamorphosis. Thank you for a decade of growth and discovery. Thank you for 10 years of "becoming". I will spend a lifetime reflecting on your influence in my muchness.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Naming the Enemy
30. It is a big number. It is one that I have almost achieved. It is one that seems oddly humorous to me. So many dread this number, but from my fishbowl it is nothing to cause extra bubbles. In fact, it is something that I want to face with the determined set of my head, and scrutiny that I use when new things arise. New things mean change.
Ah, change. My nemesis. Change, the thing I fought with all of my being for more years than I willingly admit. It was the thing that would waltz into a situation glaring at me with that evil glint in its eye, its head lifted in victory knowing that its mere presence sent me into a virtual panic! Most situations I could handle in stride, but change always seemed to ruin my world.
You see, I thrive on lists, order, and all things planned. The Container Store is one of my very most favorite places to go to unwind and destress because everything fits into a box there. Even if more items are added to life, there will be some type of storage found to create a place in the norm, whatever the norm is after all. So now, Change may invade situations in my life, but in the past year I have discovered that I am not as petrified of it as I once was. Every single thing that defined my life changed in a two week period primarily by my own choice, and I muddled through with minimal breakdowns.
I have discovered that my life is not like a box of chocolates, but like the Container Store. Things will change, but if I walk around long enough I will eventually find the box, canister, folder, file, or cubby for the new thing in my life. While I still do not have a grand fondness for change, when it infiltrates my life, I now can lift my head just a little, glaring back at it with a bit of determination knowing that I may not like what it has to offer, but that I will stand on the power of knowing that there is a container for this little present that change has left me.
Ah, change. My nemesis. Change, the thing I fought with all of my being for more years than I willingly admit. It was the thing that would waltz into a situation glaring at me with that evil glint in its eye, its head lifted in victory knowing that its mere presence sent me into a virtual panic! Most situations I could handle in stride, but change always seemed to ruin my world.
You see, I thrive on lists, order, and all things planned. The Container Store is one of my very most favorite places to go to unwind and destress because everything fits into a box there. Even if more items are added to life, there will be some type of storage found to create a place in the norm, whatever the norm is after all. So now, Change may invade situations in my life, but in the past year I have discovered that I am not as petrified of it as I once was. Every single thing that defined my life changed in a two week period primarily by my own choice, and I muddled through with minimal breakdowns.
I have discovered that my life is not like a box of chocolates, but like the Container Store. Things will change, but if I walk around long enough I will eventually find the box, canister, folder, file, or cubby for the new thing in my life. While I still do not have a grand fondness for change, when it infiltrates my life, I now can lift my head just a little, glaring back at it with a bit of determination knowing that I may not like what it has to offer, but that I will stand on the power of knowing that there is a container for this little present that change has left me.
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