What if I just jumped in?

Yesterday at MOMSnext (think MOPS but for moms with school aged kids) the speaker posed a couple of questions.  These questions have been gnawing at me anyway but hearing them verbalized quickened the nudging in my own soul.  She asked, What is it that God is calling you to dive into?  You know what it is because it has already been nagging at your brain. What is the voice in your head saying that is preventing you from stepping out into that calling?

I had planned on either not answering or keeping it shallow.  Several ladies that I work with are in my MOMSnext group and I didn't really want to bare my soul in front of coworkers.  But if you know me at all, you know that if you directly ask me a question, I will give you a direct answer.  I don't lie well and I really don't see the point of lying anyway.  I tend to be far more of an open book than is probably beneficial.  So I answered the questions when my coworker looked me in the eye and said, "So what about you Dawn?  What is God doing in your life, how is He moving and how is He asking you to plunge all in?"  And here is the truth about what is going on in my heart.

What is God asking me to plunge in to?  I'm supposed to write.  And over the last year I have been feeling a nagging at my soul that the writing is supposed to turn into speaking at some point. When I came to my current job, I felt very strongly that the Lord was telling me that it is a place where He will grow me and stretch me, that it is to be a training ground for wherever He takes me next.  I don't want to stretch and grow.  Growing hurts.  God and I have been battling that out for a while now. 

What is the voice in my head that is keeping me from doing what God is calling me to?  No one wants to hear my story, no one wants to listen to what I have to say.  That is the voice in my head.

And then there is the fear of the ripple effect of how this will impact the lives of my family outside of Hubby and the kids.  My in-laws are the most private people on the planet and I'm pretty sure that as much as they love me, they think I share WAAAAAAAAY too much.  My parents, well that is its own complicated drama.  I also want to find the boundary of while telling my story, protecting other people's stories.  Other stories play into my story and I want to find a way to be true to myself without crossing over into a realm of gossip and divulging things that are not my place to divulge.

I'd rather follow God's leading in a small and safe area than step out in faith.  I'd rather write on a blog that I don't advertise that each post gets between 5-15 views.  I'd rather not speak at all.  What if God leads me big and I totally blow it?  What if I cause more than a ripple effect in my family and instead of ripple circles, huge tsunami wave wash over us and leave a wake of devastation?

I'm terrified to take that step. I love to write, it ignites my soul, and I have no earthly clue what I would do if more than a couple of dozen people were to see something that I wrote.  I have no college degree.  I'm sure my writing would drive more than a couple of grammar snobs or editors completely bonkers.  It isn't perfect, neither am I.  What if being imperfect is not really what people want to see?

me too people

The people I connect with the most are part of the "me too club".  I think that is who most people connect with on a deeper level.  I read blogs of people who say what they are feeling and are honest about it.  I get bored and stop reading when it is simply to instruct me in all the ways I fall short.  I connect with so many of you because you say, I had a great day as well as saying wow, today really sucked the life out of me.  I connect with you because you read my stuff and you say, "Hey, me too.  I know what that is like."

I want to be a me too person.  I don't want to be someone who has it all figured out.  I want to experience it with others.  My pain, their pain, my joy, their joy, to walk side by side and experience life together.  And yet at the same time, I'm a little afraid to say what's on my heart because I feel certain that no one will say to me, "yeah, me too".

I can lay it out here on my blog.  I can say, hey world this is who I am.  I've made some very dear friends through my blog.  I just have a hard time taking that into real life.  I love to hear others stories.  I love to know what makes them tick.  I love to see their lives in action, especially in the nitty gritty.  But then when it comes to me, I don't want to show them the nitty gritty.  I am afraid that in the real world that I won't find the kind of me too people that I have found here on my blog.

I love to hear the stories behind others tattoos.  And yet I find myself at work being cautious about asking the significance because then I open myself up to someone asking the significance of my tattoo.  I want to know why one woman at work picks her food apart and doesn't eat as much as the anyone else.  But then I have to admit that I have noticed it and open myself up for her questions.  Most people wouldn't notice that she does it.  It is very subtle.  But I notice, and if I notice that, why when no one else does? 

I heard Lisa Terkheurst speak yesterday and she said something that I know and yet struggle with.  God gave us emotions so that we can experience life not so we can run from it.  I feel like I experience it here, where it is safe, where few actually know me.  But I'm still afraid to experience life and emotions out there in the real world.  I really do like the safety of my blog.  What happens if I take the safety here and become a me too person out there?

anxiety through the roof

Title pun both intended and not :)

We are getting a new roof today.  Yay!  And holy crap, I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to cope.  They delivered shingles yesterday and the noise was loud but bearable.  I thought I was going to be ok for today.  Well, I was wrong.

The anxiety hit full force when the workmen arrived, not when they started working, when they arrived.  I realized that it terrifies me to have this many strange men near my "space".  I feel claustrophobic.  I feel unsafe (as in not safe not as in unstable).  I feel like I have to run.

Seeing ladders near my bedroom window and men in my back yard had me closing my eyes and trying to remember how to breathe.  And then the noise started.  At first I was ok.  Now I'm blogging to try to keep my mind focused and to not panic.

The lights in my house have flickered a few times.  I feel like my roof will fall in.  I feel like my lungs are about to collapse.  I'm so very grateful that my dear friend needs help painting today.  I am so glad to be able to leave my house for a while.  I'm trying to kill some time to not arrive on her doorstep before she wakes up.  I might take my kids to McDonald's just to be able to get out now.

I feel crazy right now.  Most people probably do not have panic attacks from getting a new roof.  Writing right now is the thing that is keeping my breathing normal and my mind semi-occupied.  I don't like having people around my house.  And the noise is exacerbating the anxiety already going on in my body. 

even though I walk through the valley

I'm up past bedtime but I can't seem to make myself go to bed.  That should be fun tomorrow for work.

I woke up with part of Psalm 23 going through my head.

even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 

I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

Those words have brought me comfort all day.  I have been really depressed lately.  I want nothing more than to hide under a blanket, curled up in a ball, and never come out.  And it has been a bit scary, to be honest.  I have a new job that I enjoy but I don't want to go to.  I have things that have to be done and all I can think about is when I can be alone and have no responsibility. 

I guess I would say I've been walking through the valley of the shadow of depression.  But I was reminded that He is still with me, even in the valley.  Today was a difficult day.  Mother's Day usually is but today was weird on top of all of the emotions going on inside of me.  I didn't feel like going to church, it meant having to pretend to be social and ok.  I went anyway, my friend was coming to pick me and the kids up for church and I wanted to be there for her. 

At church I was holding her two year old son and was asked by an older lady if I was grandma.  Yes, I did say grandma.  Seriously?????? I do not look that old! This year for Mother's Day the pastor gave the opportunity for people to say a quick word regarding a mom in their lives (their own mom, a mom important to them, their wife, etc).  Person after person stood up and talked about the love and support that their moms gave them.  And finally I started to cry.  My mom has never been the one who I feel will support me no matter what.  She has never been the mom who I can call when I've had a bad day.  She wasn't even someone I could call earlier this year when I was so sick that I could barely move for two full weeks.  Sometimes a girl just needs a mom, but when I need a mom, it isn't MY mom that I need.

Though I love that I get the privilege of celebrating with my own sweet children, Mother's Day is still a difficult day.  It is a day of remembering the years of longing for a child and wondering if my arms would stay empty forever.  It is a day of remembering that I have never had and likely never will have that soft, warm, accepting relationship with my own mother that I have so longed for.  It is often a day of feeling inadequate. 

This afternoon at the grocery store, I ran into an old acquaintance.  I had worked with her husband many years ago and been "friends" with her by default through working with her husband and being friends with him.  She informed me that she was leaving him.  Then she told me that she hasn't told him yet and that he will take it hard.  I didn't want to hear any of it.  Sigh, happy mother's day to me.

I was constantly reminded today that even though I'm walking through a valley, He is with me and He brings me comfort.  Today was a day that I needed comfort.  It was no accident that it was Psalms that was echoing in my brain from the very moment I woke up.  I want nothing more than to isolate and never speak to anyone again.  I want to curl up in a ball and cry for hours on end.  And somehow, someway, God is going to carry me through.  Somehow, someway, He will bring me comfort in the midst of the valley.

***** there was an upside to my day, not to sound like it was a completely horrible, awful, terrible, no good, very bad day.  My oldest son made me a necklace out of beads.  He worked so hard on it and did a great job.  My middle wrote me a book in which he told me that he loves me more than turtles (which if you have ever met this kid you would know that to say he LOVES turtles is a huge understatement) and that he loves me more than McDonald's.  I'm pretty sure that a child cannot possibly love more than that!  And my baby made me a card and a bookmark. I did enjoy my time with my little family, even in the midst of depression.  I'm so blessed that out of all the women God could have given these sweet boys to, He chose me to be their mamma!*****

excited and scared

I've been trying to be intentional about my sleep since starting my new job which means I have intentionally been avoiding my time warp blog.  But I need a quick reprieve before packing up lunches and heading to bed. 

I did get the new job that I had interviewed for.  Last week was my first week there as well as my last week at my other job.  It made for a tiring week, let me tell ya!  I absolutely love the new job.  I have never been more welcomed at a job.  I am so thrilled to be serving in this capacity for a non-profit organization that I whole heartedly believe in.  Not to mention that I am earning more and working more hours, which is always a plus!

I'm still a little scared though.  I've been mostly a stay at home mamma for quite some time and now I'm actually going back to "real" (I think I prefer to say "scheduled") work.  I've never worked in an office, in a cubicle.  I've never dealt with the ridiculous stress that an office lunch hour brings.  I mean, I brought lunch and I ate it, but all the while I was wondering what they were thinking about my plate.  Was this an appropriate amount of food?  Is there anything in my behavior that would have given my struggles away?  Is this how normal people spend their lunch breaks, eating together and chatting about life?  And no one dies of anxiety in doing it?

I have a lot of what if's going on.  What if I gain a zillion pounds sitting on my butt all day long? I won't be chasing my kids all day anymore. What if I relapse badly again and it becomes easily evident to those around me again?  What if I grow distant from the dear friends that I have now?  Oh that is a big one. 

Seriously, we have been in a similar stage of life.  Sure, most of them have kids younger than mine, but we are all stay at home moms.  How many impromptu play dates at Chic Fil A will I miss before they all have a common bond that I'm no longer a part of?  I remember when one of my good friends went back to work after years of staying at home.  I remember feeling like she no longer understood the day to day of nursing babies and changing diapers and all of the other things that were still a part of my every. single. day.  I remember feeling lonely when she wanted to tell me about her day in the work force, away from her children,when all I had to offer to the conversation was that my baby hadn't lost weight again or had tried a new food.  Not that we loved each other less, but we had less in common and it was the start of drifting apart. 

I know full well that that could very likely happen again.  My kids are all older than theirs and come fall will all be in school all day long.  I have freedom that I didn't have when they were younger.  Freedom to schedule coffee dates instead of McDonald's Playland dates, freedom to do things in the middle of the day without worrying about naps.  I also have the freedom to hold a professional job.  Will the differences in our lives, in our day to day, cause us to drift apart also?  I know it's the natural ebb and flow of relationships, but I am genuinely afraid of this.

I love my new job, but I am a little scared at how it could change my life.  I'm scared of not being able to see the sun whenever I want because I am in a cubicle.  I'm scared of sitting still for hours a day, because I have to.  I'm scared of not meeting my goals at work.  I'm scared that I'm going to burst into tears with the next person who is ridiculously kind to me.  I'm scared I will lose my friends and have to start over once again. 

And I'm equally excited.  I'm excited to open this new chapter of life and see where it takes me.  Like a novel I can't put down, that is how I feel about beginning a new season of life. 

old territory from a new perspective

There is something really big weighing on my mind.  For the first time I have to deal with the reality of childhood sexual abuse as an adult.  I have friends who are dealing with big stuff right now.  There has been sexual impropriety between their young children that will result in a foster child needing to be placed with a different family. 

As the little girl who wasn't protected, I am so grateful for the steps being taken to protect the other children in the home.  On behalf of those children, I want to hug the parents and social workers and say thank you for stopping it while it is still impropriety before it becomes full fledged abuse.  I want to hold the child affected by the actions and never let go. 

As a parent, I ache for my friends.  I can only imagine the pain of having to say goodbye to this child who has been part of their family and they were trying to adopt to make him forever a part of their family.  I cry thinking of having to say goodbye to one child in order to protect another.  I cry thinking about needing to protect the other. 

As someone who loves this child dearly, I want to hug him tight.  I want to make the wounds of the past better.  We don't know what his past held, but based on some of his incidents, I would guarantee that he was exposed to some form of sexual inappropriateness.  I want him to be free of this.  I don't want to see him labeled as the bad guy.  I don't want to see him grow up, never dealing with whatever it is that has gone on, or for him to become the attacker.  I love him and I want the best for him.  I love him and I want him to have a family who loves him as much as he has been loved by my friends. 

And selfishly, I ache because the child we have to say goodbye to is my sons best friend.  I don't want to have to tell him that his best friend is moving away but best friend's family is staying, that we will still see the family multiple times a week but the family will be minus his best friend.  How do I explain this to my son?  How do I tell him and not have him fearing that he will have to go live with a new family if he is naughty?  How do I comfort my son when he has to hear that his best friend has moved away when this is the child I get asked DAILY if we can play with?

There are a lot of emotions going on inside me right now.  I bounce back and forth among them.  There is no good answer.  It hurts.  It hurts on so many different levels and in so many different ways.  As I told Hubby yesterday, I don't know how to do this.  I don't know how to walk through it, much less how to guide my children through it.  And I'm scared.

**** to my dear friend,  I remained as vague as possible, not sharing names or specifics.  But if you read this and I have said more than I should legally or more than you are comfortable with, please let me know and I will delete this post.  I had to process what I was feeling before it swept me away and this was the easiest outlet tonight. *****

pepper spray and pretty dresses

I feel a little better.  I told Hubby I wanted pepper spray.  This weekend he made sure I got it, and he got it for me in pink.  I've wanted it for a couple of months but last weeks events made it something I had to have NOW. The suspect fled on foot.  Still haven't caught him.  This was his 23rd armed robbery in recent months.  He always hits small businesses.  My theory on that is that there is less chance for security cameras. 

I work alone at my job.  I walk to my car in the parking garage alone as well.  During summer that didn't bother me much, it wasn't fully dark when I was walking to my car.  I'm always hyper aware of everything around me as I walk.  You will never catch me talking on my phone or texting while I'm heading to my car.  But having pink pepper spray on my key chain will help ease the anxiety I feel while walking to my car.  It will also give my dad-in-law some peace of mind because he is always worried about me, especially now since the latest robbery.

my new pink pepper spray :)

In other unrelated news, I'm noticing a lot of perfect bodies right now.  Colorado is full of healthy and fit bodies, especially the area where Hubby works.  It has helped to remind myself that those women with the perfect bodies that I was envying the other day probably don't feel like they have a perfect body any more than I do.  I've been very self conscious about my own body lately too.  I've been able to keep it from being the center of my focus but it has still been there.

Yesterday I had a little time to myself.  I discovered a darling little shop called Uptown Cheapskate and ventured in.  Think Plato's Closet but not cluttered, clean, no holes in the clothes I was trying on and super friendly staff.  I scored 3 dresses, a skirt, 3 shirts, a sweater and 2 pairs of shoes for $45!  One of the dresses I ended up buying put me in a bit of a tizz.  I loved the fun colors and loved the way the top of the dress fit.  I didn't love the way my hips looked in it though.  Totally felt like a wide load.  I came out of the fitting room to look in the mirror and the previously empty store suddenly had enough people that 3 different people commented on how pretty the dress looked on me. 

I nearly flew back into the dressing room a hundred shades of red.  A few moments later, still wearing that dress, I came out to grab some new items from my try on pile.  The sales girl looked at me and asked if I was going to buy the dress because it looked so amazing on me.  I felt kinda weird.  I told her that I loved the top and the colors and that maybe I just needed to get over myself and the size of my hips and go ahead and buy it.  This teenage girl got the most shocked look on her face and said, "But you're sooooo tiny.  You have nothing to worry about!"  I bought the dress.  It still had the new tags on it.  Originally $109 and I paid $4.19.  It had to have been a case of the mirror lying again because I swear my hips looked double wide in that dress.  But I listened to the voices of everyone around me (and the voice of a killer price tag) rather than the voice in my head.  Now to see if I have the guts to actually wear it.

hoping to get over myself and the size of my body and wear the cute thing!

Last night I was pulling all of the clothes out of the bag and making Hubby appreciate my new treasures.  (He really is a good man.  He oooh-ed and ahhhh-ed at all the right times with no prompting from me.)  Oldest child was still awake and after I had showed all the clothes I had bought, he looked at me and said, "Will that flower one even fit you?"  SERIOUSLY??????  I shook my head and told Hubby to tell his son that he was one comment away from walking himself to bed (joking but still.....). 

God bless that man!  And I mean it!  He accepted the challenge of a teachable moment and talked with our boy.  Poor little guy was beyond confused when Dad said, "It isn't what you said, but what a woman will hear with a comment like that is, 'You're fat'. " 
But I never said that!
I know, but that is still what a girl will hear.
Hubby told him to avoid talking about weight or age with women. He informed our son that if more men had learned that lesson, there would be much fewer fights in the world.  He handled it in a lighthearted way that I loved.  He also gave me a moment to regroup and realize that my boy really wasn't trying to insult me or hurt my feelings and he gave our son a life lesson that will serve him well throughout his life. 

When Hubby informed Son that girls are crazy, I promptly and vigorously nodded my head.  Yes, son, yes we are all crazy!  We hear things you never said and we feel things that don't make sense.  We are all crazy.  Remember that, it may save you many a headache and heartache later in life!