paying bills, sigh...

It's Tues.  And my day off.  I have scheduled to do the bills on Tues,  but it's something that I stress about daily.  Because,  doing the bills isn't just about opening the envelopes & writing the checks.  No,  that stopped when my husband died.  He was the provider of the family & the bill payer.  I am the comsumer that he use to try to teach to be more organized & budget conscience.  We went to the Dave Ramsey class & I know what I'm suppose to do,  but knowledge & doing are not the same things.  Especially,  when the bills keep coming & the disorganization becomes chaos.  Bill paying now is juggling.  Who do I pay first?  When does the benefits check come in?  What can wait?  Can I work extra to add to the incoming?  It's about choices & being organized.  I struggle in the clutter.  This is my daily.  This is my Tues

Twelve steps Tuesday

I think it's become a habit.  This morning when I was walking the dogs,  I was trying to think of the title of my blog.  I knew I wanted it to be an alliteration & something that I would continue.  But nothing that started with a "t" stuck out to me.  And I became somewhat disappointed knowing that I needed to get a blog done & I wasn't inspired.

This was the start of what could have been a downward spiral for me.  I've been battling a little bit of depression.  And as I continued on with my day,  I was dwelling on the feeling of being alone in my decisions;  of not having anyone to bounce my ideas.  I started to feel unappreciated, inadequate & unlovely.  I felt the urge for Ben & Jerry (something chocolate please) & to watch HGTV (house hunters international intrigues me) See,  what I mean by the spiral down.

And then as I was cleaning off the table,  I caught sight of a note from a friend from a program I went to when I first moved here.  I had promised many that I would seek counseling & grief support.  But I couldn't find anything in my town except Celebrate Recovery.

 I didn't know it was a program for addictions & other habits & hang ups.  I just knew that it met at the Baptist Church & it seemed like a group that I could say,  I kept my promise.

There I found a Bible based program of real... oh wow,  very REAL people who were trying to get out of holes that they dug themselves but hanging on tightly to the hand of Jesus.  They let me cry without judgement that I wasn't trusting God's will.   I felt acceptance where I didn't feel it in any other church setting.  Ironically,  the leaders didn't know what group to put me in,  because they had never had anyone come off the street that said,  I'm grieving & I need to feel okay about it.  

I was placed with the women who were in "bad" relationships.  Who had been abused or abandoned.  Ladies who enabled bad behavior in their men.  Ladies,  who in the years past,  I would never have been able to relate to.  I'm not sure I can relate still,  but they let me cry & express my disappointment with God.  They let me get mad at God & didn't judge.  They gave me love from their own hurts.  And it's just what I needed

Now,  I've been going to a Griefshare group & it's good.  It's what I need to be in NOW.  I'm not sure I could have been accepting of the principles back then.  I was too raw.  I just needed to be loved & told to "work the steps".

Which leads to me to my alliteration today.  The 12 steps are very basic & its what I did today to get me out of my slump.  In a short version,  I had to admit that I was letting negative thought overtake me & had to recognize that God is bigger & decide to believe God.  I read lots of Bible,  especially Psalms & mediated how God keeps me sheltered.  He is my refuge.  And then,  I met with a friend & shared with her what I learned.  And she was encouraged.

This is why,  I'm naming Tues,  my 12 step Tuesday & will continue after the challenge is over

Journaling & letter writing

I've been journaling for what seems all my life.  When I was young,  it was in a book with a lock & I always started it with,  "Dear Diary".  I would try to write my inner most thoughts,  but they were quite juvenile.  But,  ha,  I was a juvenile.  Later,  in my teenage years,  I would write because I had no one else to talk to (since I was an only child).  There were many pages of just plain "angst" where I would fill pages with so much pain of feeling left out or misunderstandings that are so frequent during those adolescent years.  After I became a Christian,  my journals became more like prayers & instead of starting with "Dear Diary",  it would begin with "Oh Father God".  I love reading through those ones as they are full of wonder & praise.  In my college years,  my journals were a mix of Sunday sermon notes,  prayer requests,  angst again (I wasn't sure I would get through my college years with all the expectations that weren't from me.... but then that's another blog topic) & updates of events.  When I graduated,  my journals dwindled to lists.  The title topics ranging from what needed to get done that day to dreams & objectives to seeing those goals through.  I had become less introspective & was writing more letters to friends. 

I was traveling to other countries & frequently sent postcards with snippets of my comings & goings.  I was working a shift that I needed letter writing to stay awake & sometimes to not focus on the mundane or tragic nature of my job.  I was wanting to stay connected with my friends from college & those that I met on my travels.  One of those friends became my husband.  I think because we lived 4 states away from each other our "dating" was so much more richer as we shared more than dinner & a movie.  But had to share our insides through what was like journaling.

After we were married,  the journals again became lists,  but then turned to baby books as we wanted to record first steps & first words.  I started taking a million pictures & my journals were scrapbooks with cute stickers & coodinating paper.  I wrote letters,  but mostly to my mom sending pictures of her grandbabies.  I'm so glad I took so many pictures of Daddy & his kids.  Sometimes,  I wonder how many memories they actually have of the real event or it's because they have a picture of it.  But that doesn't matter.  They have it.

Because of cancer,  my journaling turned introspective as I sat by a hospital bed,  writing my prayers out,  pleading to God for my husband's healing.  But he died & I stopped journaling.  I even stopped taking pictures for awhile.  The only thing is that life was still happening around me.  And I had to go back to writing lists.  Mostly,  because I couldn't remember to buy milk at the grocery store if I didn't write it down. 

I had to stop & I had to do.... & so I wrote list.  And I started taking pictures again.  I took my kids to wonderful places & I had to take their memories.  And I started journaling again.  Mostly,  what we did but hardly ever how I felt.  And so,  I think I've come to the place where I'm journaling to finally get the angst out.  Just like when I was a teenager.  It's good to journal.  It's good to get it out.  It's good to write letters.... even if it's just yourself.  By the way,  I am writing more "snail" letters,  so those of you who I count as my friends,  be expecting them.  They will probably be more rambling than I would like them to be,  but I'm writing again... & that is good.

Anniversary time

I'm not sure what to write,  but have the time & feel the need.  Tomorrow will be the "date" that my Beloved went to be with our Lord.  And at the time it was a release,  but today,  I don't know how I feel.  All who said that time heals,  LIED,  because time does not.  It only makes the memories fuzzy & that makes me sad.

  I find myself straining to remember what his voice sounded like,  what his touch felt like.  Time has taken away the intense pain that felt so permanent,  but there is always a vulnerable spot that will get touched by a song or phrase that will bring it all back again. 

Time has helped me be open to possibilities,  new adventures & directions that bring me to close doors on dreams that once was & can not be.

Time does not heal,  but time has become my friend. At least for now.... Happy Homegoing Beloved,  I miss you!

My bridesmaids

My niece just got engaged & it's been interesting listening in on the plans.  I forgot how intense choosing bridemaids can be,  should you just ask family or do you just ask friends.  And which friends?  All her friends are special & she doesn't want to slight any of them.  I remember being in the same position & I felt the pressure & so all my cousins were in my wedding...

                                        it wasn't this extreme

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And since I don't have any sisters,  I did get to ask my closest friends to be my bridesmaids.  And they have remained my friends through sickness & in health.

They endured my choice of dresses (I think they did have a big bow in the back,  but they were short & I know that after my wedding they were used at a couple of cruises dress up affairs).  They helped me move boxes several times as we moved to several states in several years.  They were there to hold my babies & have their names as middle names (yup,  girls you were named after Auntys).  They were there for me when my beloved was first diagnosed with cancer.  They sat with me in emergency rooms & hospital bedsides.  They took care of my kids while I was sitting in chemo waiting rooms.  And they were my bridemaids once again during his memorial service.... helping me to get through my last ceremony with my love.  This past weekend would have been our 23rd.  And it was wonderful to get txts from my bridemaids.  They are still holding me up.  They are my sisters.... I love you girls,  thanks for being there for me!

Defining Identity

I've been thinking alot about this lately as I'm having to juggle so many roles in my life right now.  Many people have been surprised about my job because they didn't know that I was an RN.  Many people saw me as "just a stay at home mom".  And I was fine with that.  It was how I was choosing to be defined.

 When my husband was alive,  I liked being called MRS...  I liked being defined as his wife & the mother of his children.  And now,  when my kids introduce me  to their friends,  I like being defined as their mom.  But,  now as I'm having to navigate through this new normal,  I'm wondering about my own definition.

     Before I was married,  I supposed I defined myself by my job,  because it was what I did.  But I don't think I ever liked it.  I wanted to be known for me & I didn't see myself as a nurse.  It was just a job.  Sure,  a job that I did well & could be proud of.  But did it define me?  No,  I think not.  I did so many other things that I wanted to be known for such as world traveler,  missionary, discipler. encourager & friend.
   

  And as I am raising my girls (& one charming prince) I'm thinking that I DON'T want them to be waiting for their Prince Charming to define them. One of my best friends gave me great advice when  she saw my princesses playing house. She told me to not raise them with a Cinderella mentality that they had to wait for their "someday" & sing that song  "someday my prince will come".  No,  I don't want them to define themselves by that (& so glad that they are not, as they are living their lives to the fullest without pining for a boyfriend).  I'm praying that they will define themselves by how God defines them,  valuable & loved,  making their mark on this world to count for eternity.

And so,  maybe this will be how I will define myself,  not as widow or orphan... no not by the circumstances that I'm finding myself in.  Not by all the things that I do (including my new job,  which by the way,  I'm really loving!),  but who I am in this world,  created in God's image for His purpose of loving His people & basking in His love.
  

hee, hee.... I love when the sun comes through the window!!! this is how I'd love to bask in God"s love

Just like riding a bicycle...

She told me that it would be "just like riding a bicycle".  She, being a friend who told me about a job as an intake nurse at a Pediatric private practice.  I told her that I didn't think I knew how to be a nurse anymore. It's been almost 20 years since I've worked in a hospital.   She gave me the "pshaw" & said that it would come back to me quickly.  And it has!  I'm so happy to say that after 3 days of orientation,  I'm back to being a pediatric nurse (before I was married,  I worked at a Children's Hospital in a BIG city).

Before my "new normal",  I use to refer to the "R" in my RN as "retired".  I liked being a stay at home mom.  I liked that my identity was wrapped up in that.  I liked that my "job" as 'Mommy"  still incorporated what I learned to get my bachelor's degree,  but was so much more fulfilling.  I didn't think that I'd ever go back.  But I kept my license up for the "just in case".  I would never want to take the Boards again.

The "just in case" did happen,  but it didn't mean I had to go back to work.  Daddy set us up well & it has allowed me to still be Mama Bird to my 4 ducklings. It's been different as they've started learning away from home.  And I've had to learn to be a booster parent.  It's been different as I was no longer the sole schedule maker,  but had to abide by school adminstrators & sports leagues.   I've had to learn how to fly as head of the household (really an income tax term) & lead my little flock into new situations.  It's been scary,  but God has been faithful.

But I've been praying about the time that my little birdies will fly away from me.  I've been praying about the time when I will have to spread my wings & go solo.  I want them to grow & have families of their own.  I don't want them to "worry" about me being alone.  And so I've been praying.  Never thinking that the answer would come before I was ready or even before any of my ducklings were really gone from our nest.  Actually,  I didn't want the answer to come until they were out from my wing.  And so,  when the opportunity for this job came,  I hesistated,  but then had to seize it.

Have you ever heard the story of the man who fell from his boat & cried out to the Lord to save him.  Many tried to rescue him,  but he refused their efforts saying that he was waiting for the Lord.  So,  when he finally drowns,  he asks St Peter at the pearly gates why the Lord didn't come save him,  & finds out that God sent the rescue team.  The man had thought God would answer different.  And I didn't want to be like that man.

I want to make sure that I will take my Master's hand when He is reaching out to me. 

Cast of Characters #2

the kids say that I left out some important family members in my introductions.... THE DOGS.  I'm debating if I give them anonymity.  They don't need it.  And Sweetpea Princess who graciously made the profiles on the other introductions say that the dogs won't stay still enough to draw.  Oh well,  I'll add something later (I love being able to edit!)
 disclaimer.... these are not pictures of our real dogs because it's true they won't stay still,  but maybe if Sweetpea feels some creativity she will draw them... pretty please?

SHEPHERD,  not her name,  though we really don't know her "real" name since we adopted her through a rescue group of german shepherds.  It had always been on my bucket list to go through the process of obtaining a rescue dog.  I think the kids thought I was just dreaming when I said we were going to do it.  I wanted a german shepherd because I grew up with them & know that they are easily trained to be protective.  This is what I wanted & in fact had told the girls that I wanted to name her "boyfriend killer".  I had this image of saying, to the invited boys at our house, that we rescued Shepherd & don't know if she was a drug dog,  while she was sniffing their pockets.  Well,  it was a pretty intense process,  with an application,  phone interviews which followed a home visit then a "meet & greet.  We had selected a picture online of the dog we thought we wanted & with other people meeting their selection,  we had an outdoor "party".   It was an hour away (seems like everything is an hour away from our small town) & we showed up early.  They were just bringing the dogs out with their foster parents & Dolly (she is who had picked) was shy with us.  Shepherd on the other hand was latched on to the kids & won their hearts.  She was there because her foster mom was bringing another dog & hadn't anticipated us.  It was a sad parting & we kept the name that we brought her home with.  It fits better than boyfriend killer.

POODLE,  also not his name,  came to us straight from his doggy mom.  Getting him is an example of what happens when you say,  "I'll never..." because,  I was never going to get a poodle,  for Christmas.  I actually got him for Baby Girl because she asked.  I think she was surprise when I said that I'd consider it.  I think she was mentally preparing herself to my answer of no,  since she had been disappointed so much in the past.  Daddy said she could have horse riding lessons when she was 13 (he died when she was 12).  I had said that she could be a guide dog trainer as part of her homeschooling in middle school.  We stopped homeschooling in 8th grade.  Baby Girl has had alot of disappointments in her young life.  And so when I heard about these puppies & she implored me for one.  I prayed & felt the "yes".  I know she was quite surprised & delighted.  We met the little thing when he looked like a black guinea pig & was the biggest one of the litter.  I wanted a black one because I had the idea that we would name him Darth Vader (I was still looking for a dog that would be a boyfriend killer!)  But we didn't name him that.  Sweetpea Princess did NOT think that we should get another dog & I thought if we let her name him hoping, it would endear her to him.  Ha,  she now calls him "her boyfriend".  I guess it worked.

Both dogs sleep with me.  The kids say it's because I'm alpha dog.  I think it's because I let them on my big queensize bed.  They sleep on Daddy's side.  They help me feel protected.  They are doing their job.  Plus,  they help keep me moving since I have to get up & take them for walks every day.

And so,  there you have it.... that's my cast of characters (for now)

my ONE word resolution: MOVE

During the wait for the Rose Parade,  there was a news segment that talked about new year's resolutions & how more than 85% (or maybe it was higher) do not follow with their list.  It was then follow up with the book called My one word.  His theory is that you will keep to one word  because of the simplicity of it. http://myoneword.org/book/  One word is easy to remember.  One word can mean more than one thing.  And this is where my word comes in

my word is MOVE.... after all this blog name is about becoming unstuck... so hence,  I need to move.    Moving in all 4 aspects of my life
PHYSICALLY:  I need to exercise more,  have more movement in my daily life.... not quite sure how I'm going to do this,  but if I have MOVE in the forefront of my mind,  then I shall move.
INTELLECTUALLY:  I have had to shift my mindset from homeschool mama to... not sure as my kids have moved to traditional brick & mortar school.  I've had to attend booster meetings & learn about common core.  I've had to learn how to be more organized as the kids schedule hasn't been in my control but at the mercy of the school administration.  And now as I think about moving back into the workforce.... oh my,  will I have to go back to school?  Is my intellect ready to move to that kind of study?  But I am working on moving intellectually.
http://www.griefshare.org/

o

EMOTIONALLY:  I'm moving towards healing with the help of http://www.griefshare.org/  I don't really have the luxury of wallowing in my grief.... sigh...

But I am moving.  I wish it were faster,  but I'm am starting to become unstuck.
And lastly,  SPIRITUALLY:  I'm moving by putting on sensible shoes... ha,ha... no really,  I started reading this book on spiritual disciplines & want to feel the Holy Spirit move (another sigh).  This perhaps is the most scary to move because it takes me out of my comfort zone.  It is easy to be content in my relationship with the Lord.  But I want true growth.  I want to MOVE closer to God"s heart.  I want the joy of my salvation.





I AM MOVING.........  MY ONE WORD:  MOVE

What do I need to make it Christmas?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GRqjFcP_aw0

Last Sunday,  the pastor asked the congregation what was it, that we had to have, to make it Christmas.  He said for him, it was

THE FOOD,  specifically,  the smoked ham since they had smoked turkey for Thanksgiving.










Many said (& my daughter would be included in this group) that they needed the music,  even if it did start all the way back in October.

Others said ,  they needed the decorations before it seemed like Christmas to them.

  And in times past, I could have said,  I needed everything.  I love Christmas.  Always have & always will,  but it's different for me this year.

It's a bit grey around the glitter & somber in the gaiety. And the lights are a bit blurry









I have not felt my usual anticipation or happiness of the season.

It has taken me 2 weeks to get the house decorated & still much of it remains in the boxes.

 I haven't done my usual shopping











& if it hadn't been for traditions,  I'm not sure I would have done much.
 Traditions have been one of the strongholds for my family.  They reminded me that life still goes on & this is how we do it. 

I have to admit that I probably went overboard the first year after Daddy died & bought too many presents with the hope that it might compensate.  Of course, it didn't,  but we were together & because of traditions we could celebrate what mattered.

  And so,  I've been pondering what I needed to make it Christmas for me this year.

                  That's why I posted the song with this blog,
 because it's been like I'm asking "where are you Christmas".

I've been invited to more parties

Christmas tea,

                                   




                           progressive dinner &

open house ladies night) than I've ever been since it's just become 'me' & not 'we'.  And I've pushed myself to attend & have been proud to say that I didn't feel I "faked" my way through it. 

I loved the fellowship & laughter & seeing how everyone decorates.  But this hasn't made Christmas for me.

 I've don my shopping shirt & went Black Friday hunting with 2 of my daughters.  It was wonderful to see them spend THEIR money & be the caddy in their game.  But with the water pump in my car needing replacing & funds not being as much as they have been,  the hunt wasn't as much fun without having "ammunition" in my wallet.

There was no cantata to practice for or program to focus on.  Though my son was one of the wisemen in his school program.  As I watched him sing "We Three Kings",  I remembered that on his first Christmas he was Baby Jesus (with a pacifier!).  I can still say it's everything that makes it Christmas to me.

 But I think this year,  it's the Silence that I've latched onto.  It's been good to be quiet & listen.  It's been good to Advent in my devotions & truly prepare my heart to receive my King.  In this,  it's Christmas, remembering my Hope,  remembering God is God always.  This is it,  this Christmas