Ladies By Design

As Ladies By Design, we have learned to fully embrace growing into the women we were created to be. Of course, we tried to accomplish this mighty goal by following the rules, controlling all aspects of our lives, reading hundreds of self-help books, and much more. In the end, it became clear that living as Ladies By Design is a process. Sometimes akin to the peeling of an onion or uprooting a stubborn tree stump. This corner in our nook of the woods will receive the most attention by far. You see, in our experience, it is impossible to do anything good in the world without submitting to growing body, soul, and spirit. We hope that you connect with a woman here that is walking through, or has overcome, the very same struggles you may endure. We offer no magic pills to ease your worries, pain, or grief. Here we simply offer transparency and hope. To be sure, you will laugh at our foibles and share the wonder of our crazy, true, messy femininity.

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The Goal Set Before Us

Woman reaching summit When life presses down on me until I feel my heart buckle, I've learned to get outside and walk. Behind our neighborhood is an undeveloped area, and I love to position myself where I have a clear view of the trees and the hills beyond. I walk quickly, reciting Psalm 121:

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
    where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.

Sometimes I speak the refrain over and over, until I can truly take a deep, lingering breath.

The many responsibilities I carry and the frailties of my gaping humanness can convince me to see life as a mountain I must climb, with towering obstacles to overcome along the way. The challenges are daunting, discouraging, and heartbreaking. And my mindset has been this: once I've reached the top, I will have figured out how to "get it right". But the goal is NOT reaching the top of the mountain- for that will happen when I see Jesus face to face. If I re-frame my thinking to embrace climbing the mountain in moment by moment closeness with God- taking the journey in and through him, then I will understand the true purpose of the mountain I call life; to know Him, to let Him draw me deeper still. Part of the journey is learning when to walk with him, and when to let him carry me, for there are steep inclines which this mortal frame was never meant to struggle upon. The key is to let Him do the work, for there are some places that are for His hands and feet only. Aloneness is a choice, and when I choose instead to rest in him completely, rather than holding him at arm's length-- it's in those times when I experience the gift of his presence, his arms gathering me up, sustaining me, giving me rest, healing the wounds in my heart, preparing me for the continuation of the journey. The mountain top is not the goal. Rather, I fix my eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of my faith- whose joy is day to day relationship with me. He is the goal, his presence the greatest summit of all.   

Posted at 04:00 PM in Bekah, Body, Confidence, Devotion, Discipline, Faith, Identity, Learning, Stress | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

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Held

Broken_HeldIt has been a difficult season. In the past weeks and months, I've felt the need to draw aside and refill, often. The harshness of holding onto life wears on me. I feel the urge to seek out that soothing Voice which hammers out what tears at my soul. I love that he dances over me, yet most often, I need to be held, to seek out quiet moments, to allow the silence to be filled with reassurance and rest. 

Today I began reading in Zephaniah chapter three. Zephaniah often spoke of catastrophe and destruction, of judgement for a rebellious people. Yet, when I read carefully, I find the book is not as depressing as it might, at first, appear.  Chapter three speaks of punishment for oppressors, and their removal from places of power. Nestled within these pages is a declaration of the Lord's great love for his daughters.  

Zephaniah 3:17 declares, 

"The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save.

He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love,

He will rejoice over you with singing. 

I love this image of the all powerful Lord God wrapping me in his arms and quieting me with his love. Anyone who's perused my personal blog knows that since November, my family has been walking through the metaphorical fire, medically. As a new year dawned, my oldest son, who has type one diabetes, had two separate life threatening experiences within a few weeks of each other, and only a few weeks ago my husband ended up in the ICU after routine surgery due to a bad reaction to morphine.It is not, by any stretch of the imagination, normal to see a loved one laying on a hospital bed turning gray, as medical personnel surround, trying to sustain life. Nor is it normal for people in scrubs to be running down halls calling out that a precious life is in danger. It tears at my heart just to speak it. No matter how many times this happens it never becomes normal. But what I am grasping despite all of this is that regardless of my circumstances, God has already seen to my needs.

When there is stress, or fear, or grief- and I've know each repeatedly this year- God provides in a myriad of ways. One of which is through the biological design of our bodies. Most notably, our tear ducts, designed as a conduit of release. Surviving trauma of any sort requires the release that comes through the cleansing, salty, stress releasing gift of our tears. When we don't cry, our bodies suffer. In his great love for us, God has provided a way for us to pour out our burdens emotionally and physically. We don't have to hold it in. He designed us to have a way of natural release. No detoxifying spa methods needed. He's already given us what we need, through gifts he created in us from the beginning.

When my son lay in the hospital as "diabetic  emergency" was being shouted through the halls, I leaned over him, fighting back the tears, assuring him that "Mommy is here", taking that comforting stance because he was awake and afraid. When my husband was unable to stay awake, and having difficulty breathing, I was forced out of the tiny hospital room so that medical equipment could be moved in. I was, for the moment, no longer in the role of caregiver. I took a break to relieve myself, and found that instead what came was the relief of tears. 

I sobbed. I wept, I cried out. Release overtook me, and for a few minutes, I simply surrendered to the tears. And then, as suddenly as the flood surged, it ceased. I stood, speaking out loud, words unplanned springing forth, "God, here I am- use me." And the healer of my soul stepped in, equipping me. I returned to the room, and with the removal of the x ray machine, I was able to enter in again. This time, surrounded by the strength of the Lord, filled with his wisdom, and ready to do battle. For the first time in my natural life, I was able to pray over my loved one fighting for life, rather than be consumed by fear and grief. I was able to stay emotionally present in the moment, rather than simply survive.

I placed my hands on my husband and prayed as I'd never prayed before in such a moment- calling down God's healing hands, asking for restoration of breath and life. I spoke the words given to me in the moment- that God is not finished yet, that my husband's time here on this earth is not yet complete. I prayed until the words no longer came, and then, I rested, in quiet peace, knowing I'd prayed in partnership with the Spirit, not grasping my own way. The life struggle continued, and I was held.  Like the daughters of zion, I knew what it was to be quieted by his love. And I am convinced that the conduit which connected me to his strength was my tears.  As the tears removed the toxins in my body (built up through stress), both my body and my spirit found release. I was bouyed up emotionally as I cried out and connected to the One who holds me through the madness. 

In times of stress, fear, and even loss, we have a choice. As daughters of the King we have the privelege to seek out his comfort, his help. When we are hurting we can hold him at a distance and try to survive. Or we can seek the sweet release that comes from a good cry on his shoulders. When I reach out to him, he gathers me in, holding me close. As I cry out, he listens, he sooths, and I find that he is my strength. He is indeed Mighty to Save.  

~Bekah

Posted at 11:30 AM in Bekah, Confidence, Devotion, Faith, Fear, Grief, Identity, Learning, Mommy, Peace, Soul, Spirit, Stress | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

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The Dream

Dreamgiver Have you ever been accused of being a dreamer?  Have you given up  your dreams because they seemed so ridiculous. far-fetched and impossible.  I DID!!

Four years ago when I came to Texas I had no idea what my dreams were.  I'm not sure I had even allowed myself to dream beyond my circumstances. I just began to walk into my destiny and started to discover what my purpose in life might look like.  I didn't have a clue but I really started to open my heart and world seeking for a dream.  I had been here in Texas for approximately eight months when the first vision of that dream became a reality.  I had an extra bedroom in my newly acquired home and it was ready for it's first occupant.  I will never forget the day she arrived from San Francisco, none other than Marilynn, my precious niece.  She was the first of four (so far) of "Betty's Ladies."  Marilynn was with me for thirteen months.  What a time we had.  She moved out and seven months later enters Antoinette for six months.  Antoinette moved out and two weeks and two days later enters Vanessa, six months later enters Hannah.  Am I seeing a pattern here?  Each lady brought different lessons for me to learn and at times it seemed my heart would burst with love for each one of them. 

My last blog was titled "Seasons" and little did I know I would be writing a new blog today titled "The Dream."  Just about a year ago in the spring of last year, I was working in my backyard planting many new plants.  I was driving to the local nursery and passed a large two story vintage home and saw that it was for sale.  I proceeded to the nursery and on the way back I passed by the same house and I was compelled to turn around and take a look.  After seeing the house, I wept all the way home as I began to see my dream.  A home for my ladies. I pictured a place of activity, a place of nurturing, a long dinner table filled with laughter, sharing, tears as one shared hurts from the past and learning to trust enough to open up her heart.   

Several days later, I was having my hair done and I began to tell my hair dresser about the house.  Would you believe this house had been in her family.  Her grandfather had owned this building and had lived upstairs while running a mortuary on the first floor.  I thought, this place had been a place of sorrow and death.  I would have a place of rebirth, new life and happiness.  Oh, what a DREAM!!

Shortly after seeing this house, the real estate sign was gone and as time passed, the dream began to fade simply because the dream was too big and "How was this dream humanly possible to bring into fruition?"  I know I am not supposed to ask HOW, I am supposed to just start taking steps of faith.  I didn't even know how to take the first step much less start walking toward the dream.  The dream began to fade and each time I passed the house, I was gently reminded of the dream, but again I filed it deep within the folder labeled "The Dream" of my heart

Several years ago, I gave the book "The Dream Giver" to my niece to read.  I even stamped on the inside cover "this book belongs to...."  Just a few weeks ago she gave it back to me to read.  I began to read and take notes about the journey of Ordinary, all the while oblivious that I could be "Ordinary."  Here are some of the chapter titles, Ordinary Embraces His Big Dream, Ordinary Leaves His comfort Zone, Ordinary Meets Bullies....  I was so enthralled with this book and not one time did my dream of "the house" occur to me until!!

Just a week ago two of my "ladies" took me out to dinner for one of my favorite foods, Sushi.  They began to ask me "Aunt Betty, what do you want to do, what are your dreams?"  I responded, "I don't know, my life is very busy."  They both began to remind me of "the house."  Would you believe that just a few weeks ago I noticed again there was a for sale sign in front of the house.  When I saw the sign, I placed the thought in the back of my mind and realized it was just a faded dream.  My ladies continued to push me to resurrect "The Dream."  I was given the assignment to "marinate in my dream." Aunt Betty, what do you see happening in this house, who do you see in this house, what does the dinner table look like, what does the landscaping look like?  Here I am again being stretched far from my comfort zone.  Me. just an ORDINARY person with a dream too big for me to see happening.  Too many bullies, too many giants, I wonder will I be able to see my dream come true?   Of course I can't but I know "The Dream Giver" will walk along by my side and with HIM, my dream will  become a reality.

As I sat down to write this blog, the book was in the floor beside my chair.  I read the title and I had a "light bulb moment."  Am I "Ordinary" leaving the land of familiar?  I have done this before.  I left my comfort zone.  I walked through the wasteland.  I have been told "you won't make it."  I have had to walk past the giants of unbelief, ridicule, and sarcasm.  Can I do it again?  Sometimes being "ordinary" is very comforting.  I just want to be me.  Has anyone ever made a difference by being ordinary?   Several years ago I went through a life management seminar and we did an exercise called "My Stretch."  It seems I am continually being "S T R E C H E D."

Have you forgotten your dreams?  Are they tucked away in a file buried deep within your heart?  Why don't you take a look into the folders of your heart and discover your dreams.  Marinate in those dreams until you are able to clearly see what they look like and walk past the bullies who discourage you and begin your journey to fulfill your dreams.  Dreams do become realities.  If I began to make a list of fulfilled dreams in my life as well as others, the list would be endless.  When I see my ladies (four so far) and see them becoming who they were destined to be, my heart is filled with gratitude to the "Dream Giver."   I dare you to DREAM!!!

BettySig 

Posted at 01:20 AM in Betty, Confidence, Growing, Identity | Permalink | Comments (0)

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Let Faith Arise

Aubrey's Prayer
Recently I was reminded, when our hearts are opened with simple childlike faith, anything is possible! It's been nearly two weeks ago now that our area was hit with severe thunderstorms and strong winds.  Tornado warnings flashed on the television while the sound of sirens penetrated my neighborhood.  Although Texas is no stranger to such weather conditions, it was one of the worst storms I have ever experienced.  When I opened my front door to see how bad it looked, the trees in my front yard were bent over by the force of the tumultuous winds.  You could actually see the blustery weather pushing the rain, the sky appeared to be a brownish green, and it was indeed a scary sight.  I immediately rushed to the phone to call my daughter and make certain she was in her home and not on the road.  When Chelsi answered the phone, I could hear my little Aubrey, she crying in the background.  Not only was she frightened from all the thunder and lightning, but our little 5 year old baby girl was crying about "Haiti".  At first, her mother couldn't make out what she was saying:  all she could understand were the words:  "What about Haiti?"  As it turned out, Aubrey's distress was for a little girl who lived in a poor village in Haiti who hadn't a roof over her head.  The child happens to be one of the mission kids that Aubrey's school supports.  It was difficult for Aubrey to comprehend that the storms we were experiencing in Dallas, Texas were not affecting her friend in Haiti.  While her mommy tried to explain that her friend was not in any danger, Aubrey continued to cry.  By this time, my daughter asked if she could give me a call back after she calmed Aubrey down a little.  As I let Chelsi go, I encouraged her to pick up Aubrey and pray with her.

After about twenty minutes of very heavy rains, the noise and chaos that had been surrounding us abruptly came to peaceful calm.  The skies had cleared and the worst of the storm had passed over us.  Within minutes, the phone rang.  As expected, it was my daughter Chelsi.  With her voice shaking, she began to tell me about her little girl's incredible prayer.  She tearfully said:  "Oh mom, Aubrey's prayer was simple, innocent and full of faith.  With tears streaming down her cheeks, she pleaded with the Lord to protect her friend in Haiti and make the storms go away."  Aubrey's brokenness and fervency had moved her mommy to tears.  With the storms gone now, Chelsi walked Aubrey outside to ease her mind.  She informed Aubrey that her prayer had been answered.  Aubrey shouted with excitement, "He heard me mommy!  He's really real, He's really real!  I can't wait to tell all my friends at school tomorrow that Jesus is real!"  All fear and anxiety was gone, she leaped in the yard with her heart full of praise.  Without her even knowing, Aubrey's faith had instantly risen to another level.  Until now, prayer had been an act of faith without any substantial results that she could really grasp.  Nonetheless, faith as she knew it would never be the same.  It is as if she has graduated to another level!

Perhaps you find yourself in a place where faith seems beyond your grasp.  Life has bombarded you so that you do not know how to even begin to reignite the flame of faith again.  I assure you it will not take much.  Just like the simple faith of a child who trusted in a God who could calm the storm, all you need to do is believe a little, open your heart, and trust that He is really real.  I did it!  I found that sometimes stretching ourselves can create an atmosphere of faith.  For me, sharing my voice on the Ladies by Design website required me to believe.  I had to trust God and take a step in faith.  I began with a simple bio, believe me that was rough.  But, I let my faith arise, so the next step was to believe that I could scale walls.  As I began to believe in my own voice again, I had to confront walls of insecurity, because of my past, walls of fear, afraid that what I had to share would never impact lives or help other women live as ladies by design.  However, the truth of the matter is that I was never alone; God was with me all along.  I realized that He created each one of us with a voice that could change lives, including me.  My faith has risen to such a level that I can proclaim with confidence, I have a purpose.  We were fearfully and wonderfully made, designed for greatness.  Are you ready to see the storm clouds move out of your situation?  Are you ready to go to another level?  Are you ready to let your faith arise?  I dare you, take a leap of faith, or a simple step, either way, there are gifts that have been placed inside of you by the One who designed you with love.

Posted at 12:57 AM in Confidence, Faith, Fear, Jo Ann | Permalink | Comments (0)

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No Fear - Part 2

P1020930 Last night I abruptly woke up in serious pain. I wasn't suddenly ill with the swine flu or some other dreaded sickness. I simply had moved to turn over in the night and my tender muscles didn't appreciate being disturbed. Pain is disturbing to me. Taken two years ago at Enchanted Rock, this picture is a humorous example of where I have been these last few weeks. In spirit at least.  I have been avoiding the climb to avoid the pain. As you can tell, I wasn't feeling very enchanted during the trek up 425 feet. A month or so ago, I announced my grand plan to face my fears by baring my blemished face and going to the gym. Not too long after publishing my intentions, I realized I had a mountain of insecurity to tackle.

If you recall, I'd planned on joining a water aerobics class. Luckily, my facialist warned me to avoid chlorine as it would only serve to agitate my skin further. I thought I had won a get out of jail free pass. But no, she recommended exercise to expel my blemishes along with eating better and taking mounds of vitamins. And so, after weeks of creative avoidance, off to the gym I went.

P1020956 There are some people that are naturally athletic. My husband is one of them. He can do anything related to sports and on the Enchanted Rock, he was indeed enchanting as he seemed to glide up its pink granite slope. In a sad comparison, day after day, I have sat on my couch saying, "Tomorrow I am going to the gym." While I'm sure it helped to visualize myself at the gym, it took a couple of my girlfriends, Cheri and Terri, to actually get me there. Once again I am learning that surrounding myself with like-minded human beings really does help me to be who I want to be. Even with the accountability of friendship, it's still been an exercise to get myself to exercise. For the last couple days, I hit snooze and woke up late only to waste another ten minutes debating whether or not I would bail on my friends. I am proud to say that I did indeed roll out of bed and faced my day with No Fear!

Ironically, I am nearing the end of reading Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge. It's a great read and has challenged my perceptions of what beauty is. It's politically and morally appropriate to say "Beauty is more than skin deep." Yet, as women when we look in the mirror and are confronted with blemishes, cellulite and all, we all sigh and frown just a bit. On my journey towards healing, I've learned that it really does take and inside out approach to be whole. For years and years, I received compliments on my beautiful makeup and my complexion all the while knowing that my beauty was at best surface level.

I need to rest I have also learned to appreciate the struggles of others. After all, we each have challenges to overcome such as being overweight, acne prone, pigeon toed, too short or too tall. What about our fellow sisters that are illiterate or bound by poverty? The list goes on and on. I must confess, my husband has patient ears. I griped and complained the entire way up a few mountains. At Enchanted Rock, I was gently rebuked by my environment. If you look closely, you can see a woman in braces on her descent. I have other pictures in which she was smiling and chatting her entire journey. And there I was, able bodied with full use of all of my limbs sitting on my backside.

I am happy to say that I am sore today and that it was difficult to be so vulnerable. Honestly, I look like I have chicken pox. To make matters worse, I am learning in my college studies that our ancestors believed that blemishes were a sign of unhealthiness. According to my facialist, it's true. Did you know that in the Old Testament, people could not serve God if they had pimples? Yes, indeed my insecurities become like mountains in my mind.

Ironically, as we left the gym, my friend Terri remarked on the fleeting of time. Just a few years ago, she participated in a few inner healing sessions of mine. I was a much different person then. I didn't believe in myself at all. So much so that I couldn't see myself having children. I had just begun to acknowledge the mountains of doubt in my mind. Four years later Terri and I are now both fans of inner healing and outer healing. Our capacity for change is remarkable. And I am now looking forward to being a mommy and I am changing my lifestyle to be the best mommy I can be. So, are you sitting on the couch? How about making some changes? Start seeing yourself differently and find a couple friends you can be vulnerable with. Move through the pain with No Fear and I promise you will experience a life that takes your breath away!

Posted at 11:34 PM in Body, Confidence, Growing, Identity, Marilynn, Soul | Permalink | Comments (0)

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No Fear!

Lahaina, Maui 218 Having lived in Hawaii for nearly a decade, I've often been asked if I ever surfed. Now anyone that knows me will laugh at that question. Hand-eye coordination I am not blessed with. I do admire the breed of men and women called surfers.  No Fear is a brand popular among the surfing community. Indeed it must take a man or woman with no fear to enter shark infested waters. Sure it looks easy, gliding above the water without a care in the world. The truth is, big waves carry bone crushing power and many have died for the love of their most favorite position in the world. Nevertheless, surfers live to lead their lives in the water. In a sense, surfers possess a form of leadership. Come rain or shine, whether with friends or alone, surfers charge into the unknown as leaders often must. As anything in this life, surfing is a position that a person takes.

We all position ourselves according to our desires. Sometimes the positions we take are an effort to run away from our desires. Hence, we all know wonderfully talented artists, teachers and entrepreneurs parked on the couch. One of my favorite positions is worship. There are actually many forms of praise and worship. Sadly, most believers think worshiping is singing. In ancient days, a person would sit on his or her knees, bowing so low that their forehead would touch the ground. This was a form of worship in which one's heart was physically positioned above the head. A lot could be said about that position. Positions are also postures of our mind: what we believe, our convictions and values. There are a plethora of positions to take, some beautiful as an act of worship and others degrading as an act of self-hate. The positions we take say a lot about who we are, or have become and who we may be someday.

Surfers, like many sports enthusiasts, gym members and such are familiar with the "rush" that accompanies physical activities. I must admit, I've owned a gym membership for over a year and haven't placed on foot inside the facilities. Just the thought of sweating and hurting leads me to a couch. Now, I know a few of you contend it feels great but my negative and perhaps faulty perceptions have kept me away from a position I know will benefit me. I haven't allowed my desire to be healthy to replace other desires to be comfortable. If you want the real truth: I don't go to the gym because I don't want others to see the real me. The me that hides under layers of clothes. More importantly, as I've mentioned before, I struggle with blemishes and I know I can't hide from the world as sweat pours down my face.

Pohoiki, Big Island 004  Ironically, the very positions that I know will help to clear up my face, namely exercise and eating right, are the very things I am avoiding. How crazy is that? Worse, over my lifetime I have spent hours in "prayer" begging God to change things for me all the while ignoring the power he's given me to change things myself. How silly we are! I greatly admired my husband when, without a moments hesitation, he accepted an invitation to learn how to surf. My friend, Eric Ahu helped Shayne gear up and took him out into Pohoiki Bay, a place where only locals surf. The shallow bay, lined with a jagged lava bed, is no playground for amateurs. Shayne tried and tried again until he experienced the rush of riding his first wave. Needless to say, he was bitten by the bug and I'm sure if we had more time he'd still be there. He knew what he wanted and he went after it. No fear could hold him back from his heart's desire.

This week I am going to a water aerobics class at the gym. Saying that, I know I'll need to check back in next week and I invite you to hold me accountable. Although I have a few pounds to shed, my heart's true desire is to live a vulnerable life no matter what. Why is it that in the safety of a church service I can worship my heart out but come Monday be so afraid to go to the gym? I have been living with much fear. It really just takes plunging into the fear to be free of it. There was a day that I could barely lift a hand in worship for fear of what others thought of me. After several services bound by my fear, the thought occurred to me to march myself up to the front row. If I was going to ever get over my fear I knew I had to face it head on. In doing so, I took a position that has dramatically changed my life forever as a woman of worship.

Many of us have much stress instead of no fear. Many times we blame our enemies, the economy or our situations for our stress. The truth is we are often to blame. When a person is under duress, either from a tragedy or a common fight with a friend or spouse, their body releases cortisol, a hormone designed to aid the body in producing the necessaryenergy to take action. The problem is, most of us never take action. We react, imploding or exploding emotionally without taking a responsive physical position. We worry. We fret. We get upset. We blame. We look away and all the while the cortisol builds in our system without any relief in sight. We are hiding from the very rush we desire.

Paddling Out Today I witnessed a roomful of ladies by design, courageously paddling out into the deep waters of trust. We never left Texas, but we certainly rode some waves and conquered a few fears in the process. As I look forward to positioning myself on Tuesday, bathing suit and all, in a  water aerobics class, I will be thinking about you. Where do you need to position yourself? Perhaps, as my dear friend Tricia is learning, a measure of healthy silence is the position. Like my friend Hannah, you may need to boldly approach and position yourself in the arms of the One who created you. Maybe you would do well to position yourself amongst a group of men or women that truly care about the restoration of your heart. Be sure that the position you take leads you to still waters, unless your seeking the joyful rush of riding a wave of course! Dive in this week and be free to live as the leader you are as ladies by design with no fear!

Posted at 11:19 PM in Body, Confidence, Growing, Hawaii, Identity, Marilynn | Permalink | Comments (0)

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Living Naked

North Shore Summertime has to be my most favorite time of the year. Surprisingly, this Hawaiian didn't always welcome the warmth of the sun. As a young girl I was a much different person than I am today. I was painfully shy and self-conscious of my flaws: flaws that were easily covered during winter months. A year ago my husband snapped this goofy picture on the North Shore of Oahu. We had spent the day exploring the coast and happened to catch the most amazing sunset before having to board a plane home. Ironically, I lived nearly a decade on the islands never once able to truly enjoy the beauty that surrounded me. In many ways, I was living in hiding. I used to hope that I would be magically redesigned by Cinderella's fairy godmother. The truth is, living vulnerable, and not perfectly, has proved to be a better design to live by after all.

As a little girl, I was often on my own. At least, that's what it felt like. Have you ever returned to your childhood home and noticed how short the walk to school was? As a child, it seemed to be such a trek. Much the same, I believe a child's feelings can be amplified. Thankfully, I enjoyed a lot of time in the safety of my parents presence as a little girl. My dad and I were inseparable and I was beautiful in his eyes. As responsibilities piled on, my hero found himself consumed by the rat race of the Silicon Valley. In his absence I slowly retreated into a shell.

I soon found my body changing, and not for the better. In fifth grade, my teacher, Mrs. Murphy, called me out into the hall to discuss my embarrassing weight gain. Not too long after, my arms, legs and hips began to itch uncontrollably. I scratched and I scratched until one horrible day I discovered the beginning of a web of stretch marks that would claim my body forever. To make matters worse, I developed a severe case of acne that I wrestle with to this day.

As a latch-key kid, I dealt with these traumatic events on my own. The only natural solution that occurred to me was to hide. I always wore a sweatshirt, even in the dead of summer to hide my body.  I begged my mom to let me wear makeup in an attempt to conceal my imperfections.  Most importantly, I covered my legs at all times with long pants and long skirts. I never wore sleeveless tops. I deftly veiled my true motives under the disguise of religious modesty.  My heart however, longed to be free from hiding.

I retreated from activities at school that I loved. Before my body began to change, I was addicted to the swimming pool. Knowing that I wasn't allowed to swim unsupervised, I'd sit by the edge of the pool waiting to hear my parent's car pulling into the driveway. That was my cue to dive in. As a teenager, I opted for home schooling knowing that I would be excused from mandatory swimming classes with my peers. The pool was no longer an enjoyable place to be. Isn't it amazing what extreme measures I took to hide even as a child?

Dad's Garden 025 In many ways, hiding was a lifestyle for my family. By the time my parents had me, they had been saved from reckless lifestyles. However, looking back I now realize that even after becoming believers, they continue a lifestyle of hiding. My father only had one arm and I am proud to say that he accomplished more with one arm than most men did with two. All the same, he struggled with an inferiority complex that drove him to mask his handicap with his ability. My mother, brilliantly creative and gifted in the arts, hid behind procrastination as most artists do. Of course, at church I was surrounded by a community of hiding beings that exhibited weight gain, workaholism, and gossiping to name a few. In all of our means to hide our inner hearts we effectively erect self-defeating signs to warn others: "Beware my heart can't be trusted. This is my property and my problem not yours."

Our proclivity to hide is indeed our greatest obstacle as human beings. Whether you believe in the Bible or not, the story of Adam and Eve mirrors our struggle to live vulnerably. They hid much like we hide. Sure we don't cover ourselves with fig leaves, however, we live in a world of hiding opportunities. Tragically, we are hiding from the very thing we crave: relationship. I challenge you to discover what you cover yourself with. Do you veil your insecurities with a false sense of pride? Do you bury your discontentment in chocolate? Do you hide your desires from your loved one? What signs are you sending your spouse, children, friends, and co-workers?

I wonder if my dad ever noticed the change in me? I am sure he must have on some level. I know it is often hard for him to read my stories now. He has the true heart of a father that breaks at my heartache. There are many women who have not had the blessing of knowing a father's unconditional love. You might be one of them. I must say, it wasn't supposed to be that way. My father, both physical and spiritual never once gave up on me. I didn't believe it then but I do now. No matter how hard I tried to hide myself, they both believed in the woman I was created be. I don't care how far removed you may feel from wholeness, purity, innocence or beauty. I dare you to reveal yourself, as you are right now.

As you do, be sure to find a friend that will lovingly help you to reveal your heart. In that aspect, my husband has been a source of healing for me. The moment I met him, I knew he accepted me as I was. I have learned that he loved me to much to let me stay where I was and who I was forever. Before our friendship, I never realized how many great adventures I had been hiding from. He's been a true friend, challenging me to not hide behind my flaws. Instead of passively letting me run away from intimate relationships, he's mirrored the heart of God, always leading me towards living without fear of anyone's opinion.

Upon our return from Hawaii, we were greeted with the typically brutal Texas heat. Today is no exception as the temperature is supposed to reach 104 degrees. In this climate, I have simply been unable to continue hiding. I wear shorts and tank tops now. Sure, I experience I brief panic at times to know my flaws are revealed. The trick is to keep moving. A couple of days ago, I even ventured out to a community swimming pool to meet a girlfriend. I still love being a girl and wearing makeup but my motives have changed. What a difference a motive can make. I urge you to search out your heart and find a friend who can help you to turn up the heat. Get uncomfortable with your hiding place.  There is a beautiful world that is anxiously awaiting your return!

Posted at 11:13 PM in Body, Confidence, Growing, Hawaii, Identity, Marilynn | Permalink | Comments (0)

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Embracing Rejection

Two weeks old The title, Embracing Rejection, seems oddly paired with a picture of a child tucked safely under the arm of a loved one. I was two weeks old in this captured moment, hardly a poster-child for rejection. In a sense I was blessed, although sometimes traumatized, to have been raised by two sets of "parents." That is another story altogether that I will save for another day. The point is, I was not an object of rejection but rather affection. Today, I'd like to share a little about where I have been these last few weeks. I did drop off the deep end, didn't I?

Not long after my last post, I found out that my friend found another illustrator for her book. She was ever gracious and her move made sense. A long time family friend offered to provide the watercolor paintings she desired. I'm not into watercolors. I want to work with graphic arts programs, a medium she was not into. Logically, it made sense for me to accept her rejection of my offer to help. On a heart level however, I felt the sometimes humiliating sting of rejection.

My first thought was, "Oh no. I shared my plans with so many people. What will they think?" In fact, a new friend has been inquiring about the illustrations. What have I been doing? Pathetically avoiding her. I have often withheld my convictions, opinions and thoughts for fear I may make a mistake. How apropos that my grand announcement of the end of my days just waiting, ushered in my first retraction. I am not creating illustrations for a children's book after all.

All the same, I am no longer just waiting. As God usually designs, and I sometimes overlook: a silver lining has been found among the clouds. Through my grand announcement, I learned that another friend would like my help on designing her book. She happens to want to use a graphics medium. Let me safely say, we may or may not end up working together. I haven't yet saved up enough to invest in the necessary equipment and software. The point is, I am now motivated towards what may happen, despite of and maybe because of rejection. I have also discovered another idea for a book based on my first car,  a 1969 yellow mustang. Forgive me, for I shall leave that story for another day as well. In short it is a story about the consequences of immaturity, or shall I say "engine overhaul?"

Just after embracing my first rejection of the month, another door opened, one that has brought immediate gratification to me in the last few weeks. I have learned that blessings often occur rather suddenly. For several years, my church family has prayed and sought out a new location that would allow us to operate in our giftings. Last month, we were suddenly offered to share the facility of our dreams. The hitch was, we had one week to move, renovate and prepare for a professional video taping that had been scheduled months ago.

As a creative problem-solver, I love a good project. While my heart is for all things creative, I am also an organizer. I am a master at skills developed while organizing my mom's beloved creative clutter. And so, I was able to co-coordinate a massive project with excellence. Each day, I'd wake up early in the morning only to return late in the evening, both mentally and physically exhausted. Sudden blessings can be a lot of work. All the same, I gleaned a greater blessing than our new found resource. I acquired a little self-respect for the first time in my life.

I have a weakness for caring too much about what others think about me. It's a dangerous condition. There are people who just don't like me, or at least not all of me. I am a highly driven, energetic woman. It's been surprising to learn that, even in a church, men can have issues with women who have the skill for directing, also described as "bossiness." I've certainly rubbed a few the wrong way and been thoroughly rejected. However, during this last project I learned that I am valued, by both men and women alike. In short, I've learned not to judge myself according to what anyone thinks: you never know what they might be thinking!

Of course, our lives are lived around those who aren't just anyone. As a relatively newlywed, I am learning that my husband, once the boyfriend who adored my every syllable, has no problem rejecting me on a regular basis. My thoughts, ideas and desires are equally mowed down by his rejection. Of course, at times he doesn't realize he has caused me to feel rejected. Not too long ago, we were enjoying the company of two close friends. The husband was gushing over his wife's cooking. They shared a laugh about a single meal involving monstrous amounts of blue cheese. As you can imagine, it was horrible. My husband relayed, "My wife has made more than one meal that I didn't like..." He meant to say that most of my meals were great. Nonetheless, his misappropriated words caused you guessed it, rejection. However, in that moment I had a choice to stew in a perceived moment of rejection or intentionally hear my husbands heart despite his words.

May was a busy month. It is the fifth month of the year and the number five represents grace. I suppose God knew I had need for grace. I ended the month learning to embrace rejection yet again. Several months ago, I knew it was time to release my official position at our church administration office. It was a scary move. I had enjoyed a sense of purpose and approval as a member of our church staff. On my own, who would notice me? Would my passion for writing cause me to be rejected or worse, unseen and un-respected? Recently, I perceived that a door might re-open. I really didn't know what my intuition was pointing to.

Just days ago, I sat in my pastors office slowly realizing that indeed I was before an open door. Only, I was being affirmed in my self-diagnosis:  I did not belong in an office. My pastor lovingly affirmed my value to the ministry while encouraging me to continue in my self-discovery process. He gently advised me that I would not be on staff, a member of the advisory board or the head of a department. Rather, he desired for me to function as a project consultant, assisting the ministries of others with my gifts.

Ironically, I was given, through another rejection, the very desires of my heart. I am a natural born leader. In our modern world, leadership equates to a title or a department chair. Men and women drool over positions. Organizations of all natures, including ministries, have been dealt a death blow by the all consuming desire for prestige. This too, I shall keep as a story to share on another day. At the end of the day, quite literally, I realized that I had been rejected, and I loved it! I have no desire to manage a long-term commitment of an administrative nature. I was not created for that. I am designed to be a giver. I have so many ideas to share, skills to teach and thoughts to reveal. I would hate being tied down to one location, department or ministry type.

The truth is that oftentimes we need to be rejected. It is a healthy person that embraces rejection. I will never forget a sermon taught by my youth pastor entitled, "Not If Only, But Next Time." Really, how much time have I squandered because I haven't had the courage, or maturity to say, "What's next?" As a lover of the church, I firmly believe we need more rejection in the church. So often, we sin, that is to say, we miss the mark, even as believers,  because we are trying to do things that God never purposed for our lives.

A friend recently posed the question, "What if God saw us the way we see ourselves, or others?" What a frightening thought! The truth is, God see's our potential. When we are stressing, He knows we have the capacity for peace. When we are operating out of our own strengths, he knows that one day we will learn to rest in him. As a believer, I have read countless stories of rejection. Our great hero's and heroine's embrace rejection. So, why is it that we spend so much energy avoiding rejection? I know I have. What are you avoiding because you are afraid to be rejected? Is it a chance at love? Or perhaps you too have a few books to write.

At two weeks old, I absorbed the affections of those around me. At two weeks old, I also had the power to affect those around me. I am thirty-two years removed from the embrace captured in the arms of one I love. However, I know that I can run to the arms of another One who will never reject me. But like the example of His son, I have the responsibility to embrace the potential rejection of this world. I know I can embrace rejection. I trust that you can too! Come on, open the door, speak your mind and share your heart. Perhaps you will find yourself making a course correction on this journey we call life as I have. It's all a part of the process!

Posted at 11:08 PM in Confidence, Creativity, Growing, Identity, Marilynn, Soul, Spirit | Permalink | Comments (0)

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Just Waiting

Graphite Pencil My normally tidy kitchen table has been littered with art supplies these last few days. I've been trucking around a toolbox filled with brand new markers of every color, crayons, oil pastels, pens and pencils galore. Sometime last July, a passion to create was reignited in me. I struggled for seven months, trying to balance being me with being someone everyone would approve of. Much to the amusement of my coworkers, nearly everyday I carried my toolbox to and from the office, in and out of my truck, faithfully prepared for "the moment" in which I could be me. I painted a pretty funny picture those seven months, just waiting. Truthfully, I have spent a grand total of fourteen years just waiting, and so has someone else.

My husband has long awaited to live with the woman he fell in love with three years ago. We met when I was living in-between three worlds. In one world, I experienced a great deal of pain and manufactured pleasures. I was a slave to a system that greedily absorbed my energy, leaving me depleted and alone, just waiting for the day I would be free from myself.

I secretly nurtured a second world, buried deep within my heart. In that world, I was loved and I was created for a great purpose. I would grow up one day and be free to travel the world. I'd love deeply and write books that reflected the heart of a good and living God. I shared this secret world I had buried deep in my heart with my future husband. We courted for three months on the phone: he in Dallas and I in San Francisco. Just waiting, I dazzled him with the woman I would be, someday.

The third world had always been with me. It too had been camouflaged by artificial sensations. In hiding, it waited to deceive me as it was designed to do. In this world, I lived to please others. It was a great mask of good intentions. Those that wear the mask easily recognize its true identity. I lived pending the approval of others, just waiting.

As my broken heart awakened through our courtship, I unintentionally began to sabotage our relationship. Through our human romance, I sensed a spiritual courting by a loving God I once had intimately known. Together, they penetrated my walls and probed deep within my heart. At some point, they got a little too close for comfort and invisibly I pulled back. We walked down the aisle together while I ran for cover.

It was in the world measured by approval ratings that I sought refuge. I worked and worked and worked until I was numb. I poured my life into serving others, to avoid taking care of myself. After all, it is a safe place to live, just waiting. Most people are easily deceived by good intentions. I am blessed with a man of integrity as my pastor. For three years he has incessantly confronted my proclivity to hide. My husband, as well as someone else, continue to wait patiently for me to simply be me.

If there is anything I have learned it is this: God is very patient. He is also wise. How God must have had a good laugh two years and seven months ago as I began to tote my toolbox around. He always knew I would arrive at this divinely designed intersection: discontent with just waiting and finally ready to open my toolbox.

For the first time in fourteen years I sat down, picked up a pencil and began to draw. By no means did I produce a great work. What I did was far more important. I stopped running, hiding and excusing myself from living, right now. I intentionally entered the story drafted by God's design. He always knew one day I would dare to be me. He was always waiting on me. I'd bet he's waiting on you too. Are you just waiting for the perfect moment, the right person or someone's permission? What is it that you love to do? I challenge you to just do it. Open your toolbox and cultivate the treasures of your heart. I pray that you experience the joy of being you, right now. My husband is a much happier man these days and once again, the romancing has begun.

Posted at 11:06 PM in Confidence, Creativity, Growing, Identity, Marilynn, Soul, Spirit | Permalink | Comments (0)

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Unfinished Stories

Journal I have no less than seven journals scattered on the floor around me.  They are bound and spiraled some colorful and others plain. Each one contains an unfinished story like links in a broken chain. I am quite familiar with chains.  Three years ago I was a barely beating heart wrapped tight by thick heavy chains. I was weighted down with key-less locks. I fought for my freedom with everything in me. I thought I was weak but once I embraced the power within me: I found the spirit I had long forgotten. It is amazing just how much we have the power to forget.

One particular journal has journeyed thousands of miles with me. It's seen the inside of countless cardboard boxes. It has migrated from Hawaii, California and Texas. It is a plain Mead Composition journal purchased in a moment of inspiration. Like the flame of a shooting star against a night sky, my inspired moments have always been brief and quickly swallowed by hopelessness.

Overlooking this journal has been easy to do. It definitely didn't look very significant tucked in a bookshelf jam packed with noteworthy works of literature. It's a miracle that it wasn't tossed out years ago like so many others of its kind. My bookshelf has been a dangerous and volatile harbor for journals. In every moment of hopelessness I would search out and destroy any written evidence of my beating heart.

Somewhere deep down my spirit has always known that I was a woman of value. My soul was altogether another matter. As a bridge between my spirit and body, my soul has always been under attack. The soul is that mysterious place in which a heart and mind reside. I've felt my greatest sorrows and deepest joys in my soul: the pain of a snickering peer, the joy of a father's love and the thirst for approval.

Moments of unconditional love are the birthing place of deep faith. The pathway from an artist's cherished inner vision becoming a work of art visible to the world is a series of measured acts of faith. Each time a canvas is prepared, paints are purchased and brushes cleaned: the artist is walking in faith. Then comes the first, second and possibly a third draft. The painting will be modified, plans will be changed and finally the artist must wait for the paint to dry. This is the journey of faith.

Faith is messy. It always has been and always will be. Models and manuals will never create a smooth road for the faithful. Greatness would be somewhat lacking in a non-confrontational world. Would we really value a superhero without a villain to defeat? A subtle lie has been planted on the pages of polished magazines offering lives served to perfection. That never-ending search for a perfect life has caused hopelessness to reign within imperfect hearts.

Most of my journals have been weakened at it's source of strength: the spine. It's nearly impossible to understand weakness judging from an outside cover. Sure, we can have a sneaking suspicion that something is not quite right. I've avoided opening chapters in my life afraid to be confronted by some hidden instability. What lurking monster may rise to shame me? Fear has caused me to be content with a cover designed to mask the story of my life.

Not too long ago, my newly recovered heart sadly discovered the source of weakness of my forgotten journals. The purpose of a spine is to bind together the pages of a book, journal and a life. Finding the remaining shreds of pages abruptly torn away was a sudden blow just as I courageously began to wonder: Who am I? Hopelessness never wanted me to know.

Although my heart was  tortured for not knowing who I was: avoiding faith, hope and love felt safer. Hopelessness was always crouching at the door of my heart waiting for an invitation. What if I believe one more time only to allow another page to be ripped from my spine? What if I had already destroyed the evidence of who I was, am and will be? Was I capable of finding my way on the journey of destiny?

Missing pages have intimidated me: causing me to obsess over what was lost. Consequently,  I have overlooked the hundreds of pages waiting to be touched by my inspired hand. Hopelessness would have me believe that I lost myself somewhere in my past. The truth is that inspiration rewards the heart that moves forward. While I may have lost much, glimmers of greatness have remained to remind me of who I am. What was forgotten will be redeemed to ignite the faith, hope and love destined to fill the pages of my life with measures of faith. My prayer for you today was bravely penned many years ago by a desperate and broken heart who dared, if only for a moment, to believe just how much we have the power to remember:

Dear Jesus,You are my redeemer, champion and savior. You replenish my soul. You challenge me to rise when I'm barely alive. You've given me so many chances to live: truly live. I hear you calling. You have planted a seed of hope in me. Or, perhaps you've rekindled the flame. I feel my heart changing. And when I feel discouraged and allow distractions from your glory and feel so unworthy, weak and broken you gently touch me and suddenly I am alive again: breathing once more. Teach me Lord, to be the daughter in whom you are well pleased. You have shown me your will and your way. Now, let me not turn from the path you have set out before me. Amen.

Posted at 10:33 PM in Confidence, Creativity, Growing, Identity, Marilynn, Soul, Spirit | Permalink | Comments (0)

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