A Day To Remember...

March 28, 2012.  Today would have been my oldest sister Carol’s 70th birthday.  Hard to believe she has been gone almost 5 years.

She died way too young at age 65 in April of 2007.  Carol had respiratory  problems as a result of smoking for many years. Sickness got to her that year and she could not recover.  She left behind a story and its important to remember.

Carol had been living next door to us with my mom for several years when she died.  This came about after her husband died and she had to get rid of her house.  The plan was for her to help care for my mom (who was also ill with respiratory problems - damn cigarettes).  It was beneficial for both of them.  Mom could still live somewhat independently because she would have help and Carol needed a place to live.  But soon it was clear that Carol needed almost as much care as my mom.

Thinking of Carol brings so many memories to my mind, many of them painful and sad. Carol was married twice and neither husband treated her well.  She and her wife-beating first husband were a big part of my childhood.  No child should see or be exposed to the things I was witness to.  Seeing Carol’s abuse and chaos shaped and formed much of my world back then and the imprint is still with me to this day.  Even as a kid I knew that what they called “marriage” was whacked.  One year I gave Carol a sympathy card to commemorate her wedding anniversary instead of celebratory card.  I got in a bit of trouble with my mom for that one.  I may have only been 11 years old but I was sure that their relationship was nothing to celebrate.

Her second marriage was no better in my mind.  Her second husband beat her as well and abused her children.  During those years I was busy raising my own family and did not see Carol as often.  But we only lived a couple blocks away from each other and there were many a night she and her girls walked over to my house after Carol suffered a beating.  She and her girls would stay for a few days, he’d call and apologize.  They would talk on the phone for hours.  God how I wanted her to walk away from this marriage as well, but she never did.  She ended up taking care of him till the day he died.

I had the privilege of being Carol’s caretaker till she died.  I was not the “Florence Nightingale” type, I was more the “Nurse Ratched” style.  Of course, my heart was not made of stone as Nurse Ratched’s was.  While on the outside it appeared easy for me to bark out reminders to do her exercises, eat right and not throw her money away, on the inside I was mush.  My heart broke for her over and over again because I knew the wounds of her life.  Caring for her put me smack dab in the middle of her complicated life and personality.  Carol was a very complex individual and dealing with her complexities could stretch you till you were ready to snap.  There was many a day I wanted to throw in the towel with her because she seemed determined to continue on a destructive path. 

But God.  He gave me patience, compassion and determination in dealing with Carol.  Did she know of the many, many tears I cried after some of our conversations?  Not just tears of frustration, but tears of sorrow.  Even though I could get pretty angry at Carol, I was still very aware that while I may have witnessed the abuse, she was the one it happened to.  She bore the mental and physical scars and God made sure He reminded me often.

I was also very aware that Carol had to live with the knowledge that some of the choices she made were selfish. Because of that, others were hurt.  She allowed her children to be in harms way and that is something that I don’t think she ever truly got over. 

We talked many times about these things and as I said, my role was to stay strong and urge her to look ahead.  Be the best she can be now. All my pushing and prodding was to keep her moving and alive.  If I had anything to say about it, her latter years were going to be more stable and safer than her earlier life.

Carol’s life impacted me forever.  She was my big sister and I loved her.   On this day that would have been her 70th birthday I remember her with that love and share the eulogy I wrote for her funeral.

Carolyn Hartz Eulogy  April 2007

A funeral is a time to speak well of the departed, to remember the good times, the stories, the memories. But for me, funerals are more than just remembering someone’s past.  Since it puts in the forefront a life that has ended, it is also a time to look at the life I am living and asking the question “am I living it well?”

But first, we focus on Carolyn.  Even though I grew up calling her Carol, she loved being called Carolyn.  I have to say that I am sure Carol is in heaven now.  She knew God and loved Him I believe.  So, we rejoice that her suffering has ended as her eternity has begun.  She has left behind all that was dark in this world to embrace the love and acceptance of our heavenly Father.

Carol’s life was not an easy one, as it rarely is for any of us.  But hers was especially difficult and wrought with much heartache and struggle.  Some of the struggles were the result of the choices she made, but much of it was at the hands of others who mistreated her.  Finances were never plentiful and at times her relationships with family and children were full of friction.  But, Carol was a survivor.  And if put in the same circumstances she went through, many of us here would have given up long ago or been committed to an asylum.  But Carol kept going, getting up each day to face a world that could be very cruel.  And she did it with a smile.

Carol was my oldest sister, so she has always been a part of my life.  There were different seasons of relationship between us.  Sometimes I was just the “kid sister”, other times a friend and peer.  But mostly my purpose in her life was prodder, defender and sometimes rescuer. Early on in my life with Carol, because of the knowledge I had of her life and what went on in it, God put fierceness for her in me.  My Pastor describes it as “booger love” – you just can’t shake it off even if you wanted to.   And believe me, especially in her latter years, I am sure there were times Carol wanted to “shake” me off of her.

Because of her close proximity to my house as a kid, we started sharing things early.  She lived just two doors down from me, and she was the “cool” big sister who let us get away with way too much.  My life with Carol was one of sharing many firsts: first cup of coffee, first cigarette, first real serious thoughts about God.  Carol was raised in the Catholic Church and as a child I attended church with her.  I was mesmerized with many of the rituals she practiced, dipping of the finger in the holy water, kneeling at the pew, the mysterious act of communion.  Much of my early introduction to church and God was through Carol.

Some of you may not know it, but Carol was a bowler in her younger years.  As a child, I remember standing at the bathroom door, looking up at her with wonder as she would transform herself from “at home” Carol to “going out” Carol, while getting ready on her bowling night.  She would stand in front of the bathroom mirror, wearing her bowling shirt, applying makeup and teasing her hair into a “poofy” hill.  There were several steps in this transformation and each one done in a particular order each time.  I knew she was done when she would pick up the big, metal can of hairspray.  With a long, lit cigarette hanging from her freshly painted lips, eyes squinting from the rising smoke, she would apply large quantities of hairspray to keep it all in place.  I was fascinated, and stood close to watch, having no clue of the dangers of mixing aerosols and fire together.

It was one of many “rituals” Carol practiced.  Things having to be done in a particular way at a particular time and to deviate from that could bring much protest on her part.  It was one of the curiosities of Carol; regimented order in a life that at many times was composed of chaos.

Carol liked to have things around her, lots of things, close at hand.  Crochet projects, crafts, suduko books; STUFF.  For the last few years, Carol has lived with my mom in a house next door to mine, so I was in their home often.  Surely one of the things we had issue with between us was her insistence on having her whole existence within arms length – and Carol had a LOT in her existence.   But what I perceived as clutter were things that were important to her, and for some reason she always had to have them close; perhaps to keep them safe, to know they were there and would not be cast aside.  So, I imagine her now, in her heaven with unlimited access to yarn, unopened mail, Avon and puzzle books.

One thing I admired about Carol was that she never tried to hide the fact that she needed people.  She was very social and not afraid to approach someone she didn’t know to greet them and perhaps take the opportunity to “grill” them a bit.  She loved to know about you – it truly interested her and she had a memory like a steel trap and could recall information most people would have overlooked.  And if you discussed something with her and there were facts she did not know, you could be pretty sure in your next conversation Carol would be prepared and have the missing information at hand.

I must confess to you Carol’s assertiveness in her social dealings was not something I always appreciated.  About 8 years ago (1999), I had just begun to date my husband Bill and was bringing him to a family event for the first time.  Being scrutinized by someone’s family can be nerve wracking, and Carol’s aggressiveness could be a little daunting before you got to know her. I knew this guy was quite a catch and did not want to scare him away before we were solid!  So, certain family members were put on “Carol watch”, and were to be ready to intervene and divert Carol’s attention if Bill started to look scared by her “assertiveness”.  As it turns out, I had nothing to fear.  Bill held his own with Carol and they sparred many times on many different subjects.  He loved her and spent weeks renovating the home she shared with my mom.  He never balked at caring for her and welcomed her into our lives.

Carol, while small in frame, was strong in spirit and will.  People could be fooled by her petite looks, thinking that she was timid.  But anyone who had cause to deal with Carol could tell you that she had very strong opinions on a multitude of issues and had no problem telling you that.

As I said before, my role in Carol’s life was not that of a typical sister.  Nice was not my portion with Carol.  Kindness, caring, loyalty, protection, encouragement and of course deep love; but not always nice.  Her loving heart and her need to be loved resulted in not always using the best judgment in making choices for her life.   For some reason, God saw fit to allow me to see into Carol’s heart, to understand her, even if I did not always agree with her.  He gave me the strength to not care if I was not liked by other people (including Carol at times) in going to great lengths to keep her active and helping her make wise decisions.   Tough love it was at times, and I have no doubt she knew that even though it was tough, it was love nonetheless.

But God balanced my wrath with others who came along side with amazing grace and I want to say thank you to some people that I know made an impact on Carol’s life.  I am sure there are many more that I don’t know about, but these are the ones on my heart.

My sister Patty was actually a combination of both fierceness and grace for Carol.  Because this is a funeral, and a eulogy, some stories of Carol’s life are best told over a cup of coffee, or perhaps a stiff drink, so I won’t give all the details of the story, but just enough for you to get the point.  When we were kids, there was an incident at Carol’s house.  A madman broke into Carol’s home and, while I had run and hid in a closet with her young daughters Cathy and Mary, my sister Patty, a young teenager, stood holding only a broom as a weapon between Carol and this intruder.  I will never forget the image as I peered out of the closet I was cowering in, seeing Patty’s 5 foot frame facing this 6 ft plus man.  I could see the fierce look in her eyes and knew if he had taken a step closer, Patty would have defended Carol to the death.  But 40 years later, this same woman came as an angel helping Carol face yet another giant in her life, when Carol had to move out of the house she had lived in for over 20 years.  As it has been mentioned, Carol had lots of stuff.   She was moving into an apartment and had to downsize drastically.  I was losing patience in the sorting process because Carol was reluctant to get rid of most things for one reason or another, and I was ready to just throw everything out!  But then suddenly, Patty the angel appeared and as I, along with my daughter Shay and sister Jackie, worked at throwing things out in one room, Patty graciously listened to Carol’s stories about each possession and who gave it to her, the story behind it and what it meant to her, as they decided whether to keep it or give it away.  Because it was important to Carol, it was important to you Patty, and that is true love.

Then there is my Mom:  A mother always, caring for her child, always wanting the best for her.  At all times generous with your children, you gave above and beyond with Carol.  At an age when most parents are only thinking of their own retirement and Florida condos, you made sure the last years of Carol’s life were not a struggle and put her needs above your own.  That is the unselfish love of motherhood – that is the love of God.

Catherine:  Taking care of her in the most intimate way possible, bathing her, looking out for her, alerting me with health concerns.  You guys fought over housekeeping, but you know she loved it.  Your spunkiness gave her a reason to get up every morning.

Her Church.  Carol loved this church and it’s people.  It was a lifeline to her and gave her strength and community.

Many of my memories of Carol have the picture of a cigarette hanging from her mouth.  In the end, this would come back to haunt her and slowly, but surely steal something we take for granted everyday - the ability to breathe.  I have been asked not to preach on the evils of smoking; so I will not say all that I would like to on this subject; but I will say this:  I hear many excuses of why people can’t quit - stress in their life, I have been smoking so long, on and on, and having been a smoker at one time myself, sympathize.  But I must point out that Carol, after over 30 years of smoking and at one of the most stressful times in her life, while facing cancer, chose to quit.  Even though others around her chose to keep smoking, which as any smoker will tell you is one of the hardest roadblocks in quitting, she still managed to rid herself of cigarettes.

Carol’s life had purpose and meaning.  While not always the dream life I am sure she had hoped for, she still kept hoping, kept going in the best way she could.  She left behind many memories and shared much of herself with so many.  Without her in my life, I would not be who I am – and I LIKE who I am, and am a better person for having known her.  I have witnessed abounding grace to a depth I did not know was possible, I have learned that loving someone is not always easy and does not always include the word “nice”.  I have seen the power of God at work over and over in places that seemed hopeless; I have learned patience and compassion far beyond what was possible in my own flesh.

So, in closing, I go back to the beginning of my eulogy and ask, “am I living my life well?”  Have I fulfilled the purpose God put me on this earth to fulfill?  Am I at peace with myself and those around me?  What lives have I touched? Tomorrow is not promised to us and if this was my last day on earth, would I be able to say, “I’m ready to go”.  If I left this earth realm today, would I be pleased with what I have left behind?  Is God pleased with what I left behind?

As I ask these things, I not only think of myself, but I think of her children.  My mantra to your mom in regards to you was always this:  The best thing you can do for your kids is to get healthy and stay healthy.  Not just in body, but in mind and soul.  Be an example to them of a life lived well.  Put behind the past and live today; today be the best mom you can be.  The best thing you can do for your children is to be an example.  The example your mom left you is that she fought; she did not always triumph in the ways we would think a victory should look, but she did fight.  So, cry your tears of grief, but let them cleanse and refresh you - tears without purpose are just waterworks.  The best way to honor your mom is to live well, to live a life that is full of loving and giving.  That will bring a smile to her face.

Spring Has Sprung...

Spring has sprung in South Bend, Indiana. Or is it summer?

Its only March, yet the thermometer climbs to the 80s and at night I am running the fan because I am so hot!  Where am I?

The trees are budded for leaves, the magnolias are in bloom, crocus' are up, robins are nesting and the grass is green.  It seems like it was winter one day and spring the next, not the normal segue.

Now mind you, I am not complaining about it.  I live for spring and summer, as the winters in the Midwest absolutely exhaust me.  I have written before about how it seems the older I get the harder it is to get through the cold and snow.  But this winter was so mild it was hardly a blip on my screen.  I may have worn boots a few times and sure I had my winter gloves out, but I think my fall jacket got me through, never really needing to break out the heavy stuff.  We had a couple of storms, but one of them was while we were spending the holidays in San Diego, so we missed it completely.  Thank you Jesus.

Because of the "early" spring, we are a bit unprepared.  Our outdoor furniture remains in the garage, as does the grill.  In the back of our minds is the thought there has just got to be one more snow storm on the way, so we have waited.  I am thinking we should just take the plunge and haul it all out.  It will be able to take a beating or two in case our fears pan out.

Which brings me to my thought for today - being ready.  Ready for what you might say...well, ready for anything.  Not just ready, but willing and able.

As this warm weather hit, one of our first responses was to sit outside, especially if we were out to eat.  We go to our favorite local place, Fiddlers Hearth, and sit on their patio. We went to our regular wine tasting and sat outside with good friends Don and Kathy last week.  We watched the sunset, enjoy the bird songs.  Its lovely.  But we are amazed that no one else is joining us.  Really?  Its March and its almost 80 degrees!  You are content to stay inside?

I am a freak about eating outside anyway.  It "got" me years and years ago in Newport, RI.  I was there with my sister-in-law Billie for my brother Greg's "Officer Training School" graduation.  We had traveled from Indiana with their two young children one spring.  The weather was mild and many of the restaurants had outside seating.  The coolest ones were places where the whole front of the restaurant opened up, bringing the outdoors in.  I was hooked.  I never wanted to eat indoors again, especially if it was by a body of water!

I even have plans for one day having an indoor/outdoor kitchen.  I have seen beautiful pictures of kitchens that open to the outdoors not just for eating, but for cooking as well.  Not just grills, but stoves and ovens too.  Now, thats what I am dreaming of.

So, my love for eating outdoors is clear.  And I don't expect everybody to share that love.  However, in a part of the country where good weather is limited, I do expect people to embrace the gift we are experiencing right now. 

I have really been thinking about this, as it has happened several times since this warm weather hit. (I am working full time right now and not cooking much, so we go out often of late) Its just one of those silly everyday experiences that God uses to get my attention and teach me something.

Whats He saying now?  Be ready.  Things can change when you least expect it and you need to be ready.  Ready for what?  Well, ready to take advantage of whatever opportunity that change is presenting.  The change before you may not last very long, so enjoy it while its here.

See, I think thats one reason people aren't taking advantage of this warm weather.  They think its not going to last (like us not getting our patio set up).  Why get your hopes up for something that is fleeting?  Well, because you may experience something in that short time that will change your life, or someone else's.  Then a fleeting moment becomes an eternity moment.  But you have to be ready and willing.

Not taking advantage of this weather means you are missing some beautiful sunsets, bird dances and early blooms.  Of course, its not just the weather that is changing, but other things in our lives as well.  Are we embracing the changes or do we still have our winter gear on, shielding us from any fluctuation in our circumstances?  Are we staunchly looking at the calendar and saying "its not that time" or are we willing to bend and be open to something out of the ordinary?

My prayer is that God will help me to see those openings- the "worm holes" that will take me to another dimension to experience something unusual.  I am certainly out of my "normal" comfort zone lately with this working thing.  There are some things I love about it and some things I hate. But its gotten me to start paying better attention to a lot of things.  Its taught me that even though I have been "out of the mix" for quite a while, I still "got it" and I can run with the young dogs.  I am not too old to learn, not too impatient to teach and I still have lots of ideas yet to bring to reality.

The Glory...

I came across this recently while I was looking through my open mic folder. I have never shared it publicly, but must have thought about it since it was in there.

As I was reading through it, I was reminded of the peace that surrounded me as I wrote it and it came upon me again as I spoke the words. So many of my people need that peace right now, I thought I would share it.

This was written in January of this year while I was visiting my mother-in-law and Bill was home preparing to leave for Africa.

Glory

The glory of God surrounds me as I sit outside a coffee shop in Southern California. Even though there is a parking lot in front of me and a freeway below me, I sense the beauty and fullness of my creator.

It is in the sun that rises before me and almost blinds me from its brightness, but I will not move – because it is part of the glory. It represents the light of God that continually shines in our darkness. As it rises it reminds me that it is always there - sometimes we have to wait for it…be patient…know what time it is…have faith. His light is always there, we just have to make sure we walk in its path.

His glory is in the fact that it is January, yet here I sit outside. The “normal” calendar I am used to back home in Indiana has little effect here. It is winter, but yet it is not. It is chilly but there is no frost or snow in my view and to me that is amazing and glorious.

God’s glory is in the emails I have read this morning from my dear friend Daniel. His encouraging words that urge us to focus on the power of God inspire me and lift my spirit even higher. Is this possible?

God’s glory is in the voice of my beloved as I spoke to him this morning on the phone…so many miles away, but yet so near as there is no separation between our hearts that are linked in spirit, soul and body. That even though his location in body is far from mine at this moment, I sense his love for me and know it is true and strong. It is especially strong as I sit here because he is the one that introduced me to this wonderful place while we were courting. Because we share that bond, whenever I am here I am reminded of the early days of our love and it feeds the great love that we share today. It is a love that has grown and not stagnated, always expanding in its depth and purpose.

God’s glory is in the wonder in my heart as I contemplate how good God is to me - that He has always been good to me. That I am loved, I am favored, I am treated so well by a Father that is full of love for me. He cares about what I care about, He makes my path straight and eases my burdens with His kindness and love. This morning as I sit here I sense that He is saying to me “I know your life and the burdens you have carried. My eyes have never been blind to your pain and I was always there and had a plan. I knew my love would be enough for you and healing would be your portion. It pleases me that you are at peace and your life is full of good things. Accept my blessings and share them with others. Be the light that is my glory.” January 18, 2011

As I think back on that day, as I was sitting there and basking in what God was speaking to me, it reminded me that many times the measure of what we get from God has to do with how much we are willing to accept and receive. To believe that His love and blessing are not just for others, but are for US. To know that even in the midst of our turmoil, He has a plan, that there is purpose in our struggles. That just as it pleases us to see our children full of joy and blessed, it pleases HIM to see us that way as well. God desires for us to embrace His love for our own life - thats really the only way we can effectively share it with others. I know, these seem to be simple things and I am probably preaching to the choir, but I am troubled sometimes in speaking with friends how this concept seems so far from them. They will believe for others, but not for themselves.

So these are my thoughts on this cold November day in Indiana. They may have been formed while I sat in the sun of California, but they still live in the winter of the midwest.

Autumn Dance...

The season has changed and we are into Fall and not far behind will be Winter, cold and snow. It is the way of the midwest and if you live here you ready yourself to let go of the warmth that summer brings...or you move.

Letting go...it seems that is a word rattling around in my head and heart a lot the past few years.  Letting go of anger and disappointment, letting go of some people - not always by choice.  Just letting go.

Hopefully letting go of one thing opens my arms to embrace something else.  That is what I am hoping for in the coming season.

Sitting in the sanctuary of my patio recently, I wrote this piece.  I shared it at a couple recent open mics and it was well received.  Hope you enjoy.

Autumn Dance

The leaves are falling

Colors changing, the green leaving, replaced with orange and gold

I watch them as they drop from the trees

Just a few at first, then they fall in great waves

But before coming to rest on the ground

They dance upon the air

Some twirl and swoop

Others flutter and pause

They stop in mid air, just floating, floating

Enjoying the journey, seeming to say “whee, I am flying!”

There are some brave ones that hang on and wait for a strong wind

And as it catches them they fly high into the air before they give up the ghost and rest on the ground

Falling further than they would have

Had they just released when there was less turbulence

Or maybe, they are not brave at all, but hold on past their time, afraid of the fall

And the wind leaves them no choice and says “its your turn"

However they fall, fall they will and I love the dance as they go

It reminds me of a snow shower as they flutter by, so many at once

But instead of a cold wet kiss they bring a sweet scent as they brush past you

And all the falls of years gone by are stirred inside me and I close my eyes to embrace it

The sight of the turning leaves brings comfort and sadness

Comfort in the beauty and sadness in knowing the season of warmth is coming to an end

Soon the falling leaves give way to falling snow

And all that is left of autumn are bare branches

Branches that reach to the sky in surrender

Dark, bare, exposed – no cover to warm them

They are at the mercy of the season and I identify

Some seasons are dry and cold and you pray for the change

For now, I will just enjoy the dance

Sue Barnard

9-21-2011

A Table Of Friends...

This is a long one folks, trying to condense 30 years into a few paragraphs.  It is precious to me, so did not want to cut it short.  It is a story I hope you enjoy and can relate to.

Recently, we had a dinner celebration.  Our very dear friends Dan and Connie were in town and we had a dinner to give them a chance to see some old friends on their short visit to South Bend. 

We meet at Don and Kathy’s home.  They are marvleous hosts and their home is full of comfort and hospitality.  There are 14 of us in attendance - a great number to gather around their large dining table.

Set before us is Goat Cheese and Pesto Torta, Bruschetta and Crostini, Peppadews, German Bologna, Lasagna, and a beautiful Lettuce Salad with lots of goodies hidden in it.  For dessert we have NY style Cheesecake and Marce’s White Chocolate Fantasy Cake.  We mill around, casually nibbling the appetizers, preparing dinner plates, pouring wine and eventually we gather at the table.

It’s a complicated story how we all met and got hooked up, but I will try to make sense of it.  I would guess that all of us have different versions of the tale, so right up front I will say these are my recollections and I can't guarantee the total accuracy of my 52 year old brain.

I don’t remember exact dates after all these years, but know that several from this group have been in my life for over 30 years.  Some I met through a house church I was attending.  We were a small group, but had strong beliefs (the leader of the group was a devout follower of Bill Gothard) and the group was like a family.  We not only tended to peoples spiritual need, but financial needs as well.  It always amazed me at how generous this small group was and what we were able to accomplish.

While we were a tight knit group, we could also be a bit volatile, splitting several times over the years, losing a few and picking up others with each divide.  I was pretty young when a lot of that was happening, with two young children.  I have to admit I did not know what a lot of the “hubbub” was about during these bouts of turmoil, although there were times when I’d pipe up and give my opinion on some things.

The group was very male oriented in the leadership area.  Women had their place and it was pretty much to be at home taking care of their husband, house and children (Thanks Bill Gothard).  Not many worked outside the home.  If you were not absolutely thrilled to be cleaning your house and tending to your husband’s every need, there was a bit of a stigma that got attached to you (and I imagine a lot of prayers were prayed on your behalf).  This attitude really went against the grain of me, as I had some bad vibes from growing up around a dominant, abusive man and I was determined not to follow in some of my relatives footsteps.  I remember like it was yesterday at about 11 years old consciously making the decision after witnessing one of the many incidents of abuse my brother-in-law inflicted on my sister Carol, that no man would ever treat me that way.  And that was only a part of my story where men were concerned — so, I had a bit of a chip on my shoulder in this area.  I am sure the word “rebellious” came up behind a few closed doors when my name was mentioned.  I hold no ill towards those who may have felt that way at the time.  I don’t know if anyone knew my “whole” story and even if they did, still probably would not have known what to do with me!

I loved my family, being married and being a mother, but there were certain aspects of homemaking I did not excel in. I was only about 20 or 21 at the time.  (I had gotten married at 14 and accepted Christ at 15)  Being a mother came pretty naturally to me, but keeping house was a different story.  Eventually, I mastered cooking, baking and finances, but never quite got the hang of keeping a neat house. Often I felt inferior to the other women who seemed to have embraced the love of it, while I only dreaded it.  I thought that perhaps I had missed getting the “cleaning gene” that came with salvation.  Even though several of their homes were often in disarray, as mine usually was, many of the women appeared to get great joy in washing, cleaning and cooking all day.  This was not my story and I felt very guilty about it for years.

When we had fellowship times, I longed to be included in the “male” conversations that were taking place in the living room of the home we met in.  The women usually congregated in the kitchen and talked of canning vegetables, raising children and recipes.  While these things did interest me, the men were usually talking about Jesus and the things of God, and that interested me much more than water bath canning instructions.

The house church had been together a while when Dan and Connie came from California to attend the church.  Dan and the current "lay" pastor had long been friends.   Dan, an ordained minister, eventually took over pastoring.  With Dan and Connie as pastors, a whole new world was opened up to me.  Connie did not fit the mold of the usual pastors wife (she did not play piano).  She was a gifted teacher, as was Dan, and they would share in the pastoring.  While she was a very supportive wife, he was also a supportive husband and acknowledged and encouraged her gifts, which were not just in cooking and keeping house.   Their marriage was the first I took note of where they truly respected each other.  It was a turning point for me.  Dan brought an equality to the women of the church that had been missing and it gave me hope for something more.

As I mentioned before, it is a complicated story with heartaches as well as joys.  Anyone who has been involved in organized church for any length of time can imagine some of our struggles.  Dan was very different from Tom, the man who started the church, and those differences eventually came to a head and we experienced yet another church split.  This time, Dan left and started his own church.

This was a great struggle for my family.  My husband at the time, Dave, really loved Dan.  Dan was able to reach him in ways the other men had not been able to.  Now, I am not saying the men of the church did not try...they did.  But so many of the male bonding activities were centered on sports and Dave was not a sports kind of guy.  So sports oriented were the men that we would change our church service time to accommodate watching the Superbowl.  He would try to participate at times, but would usually come home humiliated, feeling much the same way I did when it came to housework.  He just was not good at it.  He liked debating with the men, but his ideas were usually challenges to the “status quo” and not readily accepted.  While we were in the same situation as the other couples in the church...marriage, job, kids, etc., we were several years younger and still had that push to challenge things...just because.

Dan also had a great influence on me.  As I mentioned before, he and Connie set a great example for respect and equality in marriage.  Her gifts were just as important to highlight as his and he encouraged women to participate in many areas.  I attribute my writing and public speaking today to Dan.  One day we were having a lively discussion on some things very dear to our heart in his living room (I had graduated out of the kitchen with Dan) and he said to me “Write that down”.  I said, “Write what down?”  He replied “What you just said, write it down.”  I did, and it became an article for a newsletter the church produced called “The Salt Mine”.  Not long after that, he asked me to take his place at an event he was scheduled to speak at and could not attend.  I felt very honored to be considered to stand in his stead.  I have not stopped writing or talking since.

We ended up attending both churches for a while.  The “old” church held great pull to us — we helped raise each others kids, got baptized together, shared our joys and heartaches with each other, prayed together.  As I said, I did not quite fit as well as some of the women did, but their influence and encouragement in raising my kids was priceless.  I cannot ignore that through this body of believers I learned to study the bible, the importance of community and witnessed the deep love of God.  It was a great foundation.

We eventually chose Dan’s church.  Some came with him, others stayed behind, new people were added. We grew and thrived there.  It was exciting to be on the ground floor of a new church.  This one was more formal in some ways than the old church, as we had a denomination we were under (Assemblies of God), but still met as a “house church”.  We rented a local hall on Sundays for our meetings and eventually converted Dan and Connie’s garage into a meeting room as well.

We kept connection with many of the people in the “old” church.  It wasn’t always a deep connection, at times only occasionally seeing each other through various events, but it was always good to see them.   Eventually, Dan and Connie left too, moving to a different part of the country (a total of three times in fact), and have settled in Seattle, WA.   We have kept in touch all these years consistently and I treasure their place in my life.

So, we fast forward to today, the table of friends.  Many of us now grandparents, some finding their way to attending the same church together again, others no longer attending any “organized” church at all, and Dan, now a newly ordained Anglican minister!  Talk about never seeing something coming...that would be it.

We gather at Don and Kathy’s house, one of the couples whose marriage was birthed in the “old” church and are still together - 33 years now I believe.  Amazing.  We eat dinner together, and drink wine and sangria.  A few of us that arrived early got to partake of Kathy’s famous “Cosmos”...something that probably would not have happened when we were attending church together “back in the day”.  While I do remember sharing a bit of wine a time or two all those years ago, it never flowed as freely as it does today.  Those of us who chose to partake appear to be moderate, responsible drinkers and it is one of the things we have “grown” in.  We also enjoy discussing wines and such and a few of us attend wine tastings together.  Some of our group choose not to drink alcohol (lips that touch wine will never touch mine), and no one thinks badly of the other for their choices.  Maturity is a wonderful thing.

Here are the names of those in attendance:  Dan & Connie, Don & Kathy, Chuck & Sue S., Barry & Cheryl, Jim & Maggie, Bill & Sue, Mike and Bill P.  I will attempt to connect the dots.  From the “old” days:  Dan, Connie, Don, Kathy, Barry, Maggie, Mike and Bill P.  Those grafted in by re-marriage:  Sue S., Cheryl, Jim and Bill.

Don and Kathy have a long dining table in their spacious country kitchen and in the middle of our meal, Father Dan encourages us to tell our stories of meeting Christ. We encourage him to start with his, and since another attendee, Chuck, was instrumental in that, we hear a bit of his story too.  Kathy tells her story, which brings her to her connection with Barry, who was friends with the man who would become her husband Don. (It was Barry who introduced them)  Maggie shares her story, and her husband Jim, shares his recent health struggles and the wonder of God through it.  Then we hear from Cheryl, whose story is quite amazing and reminds us all that it is the love and grace of Jesus that drew us.  Throughout the evening we all interject a bit of something, especially after we hear the details again of how some of us got connected.  A few help tell another’s story.  Believe it or not, I am not talking a whole lot, mostly just drinking it all in and smiling at the wonder of it all.

I think of how many there had an influence on me as I literally “grew up” amongst them. The connection with Dan and Connie I described earlier.  But many here are forever etched on my heart.  One of my best friends ever, is Bill P.  His story is very deep and early on in our relationship God placed a seed in my heart for him that has planted deep roots that are not easily moved.  He was in and out of my life for many years as he would leave church, come back, leave again and eventually left the area and moved to Seattle.  But we stayed friends, talking on the phone, writing letters.  He eventually found his way back to South Bend and we again went to church together for many years.  He is “Uncle Bill” to my kids and a part of most family dinners and events.

Barry was married to Evie at the time we attended church together and their house became a refuge for me from the chaos of my own.  My first husband and I were struggling on many levels and I confided our deep secrets to Barry and Evie, many times late at night after I finished my shift at a local Cantonese restaurant, “Marks”.  I would show up on their doorstep bearing leftover Egg Drop Soup and they would say, “Stay a while” and that was my cue to bear my soul.  Evie and I became good friends and she was one of the women who really encouraged me in raising my children. 

Barry is forever in my heart for many reasons, but one that stands out is an apology he made to me.  During the time we were attending church, we had a pool party at someone’s home.  At some point a few of the guys thought it a good idea to start throwing women in the pool.   After throwing a couple of the women in, they set their sights on me and grabbed my arms and legs.  As they were carrying me to the pool I asked them not to throw me in.  I did not do well in water and was not a great swimmer and especially do poorly when it comes to “horsing around” in the water.  When I was young, my crazy brother in law, the one that beat my sister, thought it was great fun to hold me under the water one year we were at the lake.   A six foot plus man holding a 10 year old under the water against their will and then laughing about it when they finally let the gasping child free can leave a mark - and it did for me.  The closer they carried me to the water, the more terrified I got.  They ignored my pleas and kept walking towards the pool and when I realized they were going to go through with it, I became hysterical; crying, begging and pleading for them not to.  My hysteria must have moved them, because they put me down at the pools edge, leaving me embarrassed at my outburst, yet grateful it had an impact.  It hurt me that they would allow me to get to that point and not listen in the beginning, but life went on.  Years later, at a church reunion, Barry came to me and apologized sincerely for that day.  It meant a great deal to me that even though much time had passed, he still remembered and thought enough of me to make it right.

There are so many more stories of these friends, these comrades, demonstrating true “agape” love for each other.  It was our common love of God that drew us together and it is that same love that keeps us coming back.  The years have given us the wisdom to know how precious true friendships are and that relationship is really what God is all about.  So many of the “rules” we once thought so important have faded, but what remains is the love.

So as I sit at the end of the table, listening to these friends, watching, observing - I am pleased.  Pleased at who they have become, pleased at who I have become.  I no longer consider myself second class because I hate cleaning house.  In fact, I have no shame in stating that finally, after many years of dreaming about it, this year I have on occasion hired a housekeeper. 

No longer do the men and women talk separately; we all sit together at one table, equally sharing what is on our hearts.  There are no judgements of the “new” spouses, all are welcomed into the mix.  I am witnessing dreams being fulfilled and dreams yet to begin.  Some of us are still struggling with many things, but some of us have found the peace we were seeking all those years ago.  All this warms my heart and I believe, makes God smile.  It is life, it is friendship, it is fellowship...it is God.

Long Road...

I wrote this piece while contemplating how quickly things can change our lives, especially a heartbreak.  One moment all is well and with just a few words, knowledge comes your way that changes everything.  Its at those times you just hope you can feel peace again.

Long Road

The storm that came through is one that rips hearts
It breaks your dreams and upsets your carts

I feel whipped and winded, dazed and confused
It came like a tornado and ripped me in two

It’s a long road back to the calm after the storm
Walking through debris that can cause great harm

Feelings, heartaches, pain strewn about
Seeing it all before me makes me want to shout

Shout to the heavens, cry aloud
Scream at the destruction that is all around

People have been wounded and lives re-arranged
Foundations have crumbled and everything is changed

The pain of it all seems too much to bear
The reality of it just seems so unfair

I look for my center, the peace and the quiet
But all I see are the remains of a riot

My world has been demolished by a raging fire
And there is no trace of the peace I desire

Where did it all go and can I get it back?
Why couldn’t I defend against this destructive attack?

Like most storms there was no way to control it
It came and went in what seemed just a moment

But the power it carried was considerable
The damage it left behind is miserable

It’s a long road back to the calm after the storm
Searching for the way that will bring me home

©Sue Barnard  8/2010

Change...

As we head into this new year I contemplated change.  I have always been a pretty "adaptable" person and count it as one of my strengths that I can accept and even thrive when faced with change.

In this new year I find myself anticipating great change.  I am actually excited at the idea of changes happening in my life and those around me.  I am not sure what those changes will be, but I sense they will be positive.

My contemplation brought about this poem.  I hope it inspires you to embrace the changes you face in your life.

 

Change

I am passing from one state to another

My form is being transformed, modified and altered

Things will not be as they are now

Nor will they be as they were yesterday

Life is changing

The future course will be different because it will not be left alone

Life is not about leaving things alone

My life is not a protected “eco system” that needs to remain in an uninterrupted state to flourish

No, PLEASE – interrupt my life as it is what keeps me alive

My environment grows from change and the constant flow of activity

My spirit is renewed at the prospect of something unknown being introduced

The challenge of change becomes my victory

There is security in knowing “I can change”

The change of faces in my life no longer saddens me

But is now a spring board to what lies ahead

I am changing

We can fight change and be stagnant

Or we can choose to change and expand

Go with the flow

As we embrace change we remain curious

We look forward to new things in our lives

We don’t fear what lies ahead

But we are excited at the possibilities

Change is coming

Change is here

Change is constant

Change is necessary

Welcome Change

© Sue Barnard

1/6/2010

Another Year...

I started this post in 2010 hoping to publish it before the new year. But, that did not happen. Here it is though, reflections on 2010 and hopes for 2011. Enjoy.

Another Year

Well, it’s a cold December morning and I sit in my living room with my coffee and Isabella by my side thinking it is time to do my year end review. About this time every year I look back on the months past and look forward to the new year ahead. And I always ask myself the questions “What did I accomplish and where am I going?”

Of course I think of what I did NOT get done either. I did not lose that 50 pounds I had intended, but I did manage to drop about 10 and keep it off. I will count this as a positive, since each year I seem to end it heavier than when it began. I have progressed in my exercise and now do so on a regular basis. The exercise induced hives that have bothered me so for the past few years are manageable and no longer hinder me to the point of inactivity. So while I did not reach my goal, I am at least heading in the right direction. We’ll carry this one over for 2011.

I did NOT transform my office from chaos to organization. Not even close on that one. I used to be such a filing mavin - not sure when I lost it. It now takes me forever to file things properly and usually happens at tax time rather than throughout the year (much to my husband’s dismay). Although I did purchase a calendar that has a huge “pocket” for each month and used that to put monthly receipts in, so I have some organization. I did however make progress on my photo collection and am 3/4 of the way done. Unfortunately I have been at that point for several months. I was hoping to work on the photos with Anna when she came home for Christmas, but that did not happen.

Ok, enough of the did nots.... move to the dids.

I wrote a lot this year, though you could not tell through my irregular blog entries. Most of my writing was journaling and poetry. So much of my poetry is a chronicle of my journey and reflects what I am going through and this year it still contained anger and disappointment about some things in the past, but it also included some fun things and healing. This year I have been even bolder and more honest with my poetry, not afraid any more of who I might offend. For sure the healing was helped along by the venting through my writing.

I got several opportunities through open mics to perform and hear other artists. I truly enjoy that. The creating of something definitely gives rise to want to share it. When I cook a meal I want people to eat and enjoy it, the cooking of it is not enough. It would be very unsatisfying to prepare a delightful meal and just set it on the table to look at, no one ever partaking of its flavor and nourishment. So too with my writing I find that most times I want to share on some level, even if it is just with Bill or my friend Pam. But usually sharing it with them gives me the confidence to share it to a broader audience and so through this blog or through open mics my creativity has an outlet and gets fed at the same time, as the giving of what I have done urges me to do more.

Just recently we have done bunches of improvements to the house. Painting in the dining room, bathroom, family room and kitchen. New floor, sink, toilet and shower in the bathroom. New counter tops in the kitchen as well as a new sink. We have begun to wade through our unending supply of “stuff” to try and simplify our lives. Possessing so many things seems to take away from my life rather than add to it and makes me a bit nervous. So we are trying to move away from being collectors of more and leaning into being keepers of less.

We had people in our home on a regular basis and I love that. Dinners, birthday celebrations, game nights. Family from the West coast came to visit us and I really love that. South Bend is not the fun capital of the world, but we are here so it makes it pretty special. You feel very loved when people come to see you for you. Note to Anna: I really would come to see you even if you did not live in New York ☺

Since we are heading into our third year of not attending an “organized” church, these times of gathering and fellowship are so important to us. It reminds me what real church is and feeds me more than sitting in a pew. It’s funny because a few years ago I could not imagine being without a regular church and today I cannot imagine ever going back to one. So many reasons for that, but I will only note a couple.  We were taught to be careful with those that were in the “state” I am now, perhaps thinking that they may have a negative effect on us. We were told people not in church “couldn’t take it” or were “out of order”. How sad that our ideas of how God moved were so small. Interesting how walking away from something gives you a clearer perspective. I think its that getting older thing. My over 50 eyes can’t see much clearly unless I hold it away from me...perhaps my older spirit is the same. I hold no ill towards those still part of organized church, in fact, quite the opposite. I remain friends with several people from the church we left and am happy that they find encouragement there.  A dear friend of mine is being ordained in the Anglican Church after being a part of several less formal churches. While it may not be my cup of tea, it brings something to him that is vital and I respect and encourage that.

I loved being in church for over 30 years and encouraged many to find a church they could function in. Without that experience I would not be who I am today. But who I am today is different from who I was before and to quote Stephen King “The world has moved on”, and so I now exist in a different world, just as important, but different. My view of how and where God moves has expanded. Its one of the cool things about God; He is so much bigger and has so many more ideas than we do. Expressing His greatness takes so many forms. So we remain committed to God with all our hearts and pursuing what true church is.  We fellowship regularly, give generously, seek wise counsel when needed and desire to do God's will - all because it is in our hearts to do so, not because we are pressured to.  If God moved me towards being a part of a church again, I would do so. It just has not happened.

In 2010, two dear people in my life left this earth realm, Karen and John. Both had been in my life for over 20 years. While I did not see them often the past few years, they were both at one time very present in my life and made an impact that lasts to this day. They both lived to share the love of Jesus and knowing they were walking this earth made me sleep a bit better at night. They died too young in my opinion (me and God have already had several discussions on this) but I rejoice that they are now in paradise with our Savior.

The year would not be complete without at least one rant, so here is mine.  I have done a lot of contemplating about relationships this year. They have always been so important to me and I can be pretty aggressive in my pursuit of them. If God puts someone on my heart, I stay in contact with them and let them know they are loved and often will try to spend time with them. The past couple years have changed that somewhat. I have become a bit weary of those who say they love me and want to see me, but yet don't return phone calls or are always busy.  While I accept and embrace my role as a gatherer, I am not as persistent as I used to be if I am always the one making contact. I have come to the belief that about 90% of the time, people do what they want to do no matter what excuses they throw out there. If people want to see me, they will make the time. Of course there are circumstances that can prevent this such as sickness, work, location and such...that is the 10% that is uncontrollable in our lives. But we decide what we will do with most of our time outside of work and if you care about someone or enjoy their company, you make time for it. So, if someone counts my friendship as valuable, they will tend to it. It may not be often, but if keeping in touch with particular people means something to you, it will happen if you want it to. It may mean a regular email, a cup of coffee or even just a phone call or note. It does not always have to be some deep, long conversation. Just letting someone know you are thinking of them goes a long way. So, at this time in my life, if after a couple times you don’t respond to phone calls, invites or emails, I am gonna let that go in most cases. There is a lot more I could say on that, but think I will leave it there.

I love to travel and did that this year. San Diego to celebrate my sister-in-law Susan’s birthday (which included a delightful stay at a B&B on a beach - thanks Mommy Barnard), Seattle to see our dear friends Dan and Connie Rice (and family) and two trips to New York to see my baby girl Anna. Bill took two trips to Africa for business and we hope that proves fruitful this year. While it is hard to think of him being so far away, it gives me great pleasure because he has such a love for and call to Africa. Seeing him so fulfilled brings me great joy.

How can I review the year without mentioning my children?  They are my heart and soul.  I wrote a very deep piece about my wonderful kids earlier in the year, so I won’t go on here about it. I just have to say I love them all to pieces and am so proud of them. Shay and Job have blessed with me grandchildren and they are awesome parents. It is a whole other post to do that justice, so I will leave it at that.

As I have written about before, seasons are very deep and moving to me and I make note of their coming and going. God uses them to teach me, remind me and encourage me. The great thing about seasons is that they always change, so as I go through a struggle it gives me hope as I know it will pass and change. It can also be sobering as well, as I see those around me change, move on and sometimes out of my life.  It can bring melancholy to realize something has ended. But then the newness of spring comes around the corner and I see that God will bring other things into my life that require my attention and love and the cycle of life continues.

I am very aware at the end of this year I am 52 years old. It is not just the calendar that reminds me of this - my body that aches more than it used to, my eyes that require ever stronger lenses to function properly and my mind that notes most likely I have more past than I have future on this earth. I am not anxious about that, but it does make me think more about what I am doing and where I am going. Tomorrow is never promised to any of us and no matter what your age we could be gone in a flash. So it is important that we live life always to the fullest and pursue our hopes and dreams. You can keep saying "someday I will do this" or you can just do it (I say as I look in in the mirror).  Live each moment with purpose and passion.

Whats in store for 2011?  More steel cut oats and less sugar.  Writing, writing, writing.  Taking my vitamins everyday.  Sitting less and moving more.  Cooking more but eating less.  The ocean.  Size six jeans.  New things, new places.  Getting rid of more "stuff".  Another hope for 2011 is to connect with you all more often through postings and in person. I love to get feedback from you and hear your thoughts on what I have shared and what is going on in your life.

I will leave you with a poem I wrote the last week of 2010. I really like for my work to be heard, as well as read, as much of the heart of my writing is in the way its delivered. So, I have included a link to the spoken version.

Stepping Back and Moving Forward

The day after Christmas, 2010
2011 all set to begin

This year as I sit the tree lights are dark
When I came downstairs I left them off

No candles are lit, no music is playing
Just the thoughts in my head continuously swaying

Presents have been given and presents received
Knowing that its over brings great relief

I love Christmas, don’t get me wrong
But once its over I’m ready to sing the “New Year” song

I want to move past the year thats ending
Lean into the new one just beginning

This year I will review several times in my mind
The events of my life will hit rewind

What did I accomplish, what did I learn?
Was the respect of my Father God earned?

I have no complaints, my life is grand
Most struggles I face I have the upper hand

The ones that still grip me I keep trying to rise above
Remembering I am surrounded by great love

This year I have traveled to both coasts, I have celebrated life
Had family visit our home, I remain a faithful wife

I get along with my siblings, my kids and my spouse
We spent lots of time improving our house

There is much to be grateful for in the life that is mine
Blessings I don’t have to look far to find

A few glitches remain, a few things undone
A family member sent me a letter that was pretty glum

I was told to “back off” and step away
So I will “step back 5” and give you your space

I am stepping back so I can move forward
Gain some momentum to get past the absurd

The older I get the less drama I need
“Life is short and I want to enjoy it” is my creed

You don’t have to like, love me or care
I have learned that life is not always fair

People will treat you like shit
Even if you don’t deserve it

All I can do is be who I am
Try my best to walk out God’s plan

You can share my life, or you can shun and forget me
Either way I’m not going to park inside your misery

I’ll love, help, pray and hug you
But I’m not going to sing the blues

God can light a path for us to walk
But we gotta choose it and do more than just talk

All that talk but nothing changes
Will keep our lives dark and estranged

Tomorrow is not promised and like I said life is short
My hopes and dreams I will not abort

The coming year brings promise and hope of new things
On that high my soul takes wing

So good bye old year, and all we’ve had to endure
Hello 2011, you’ll be good to us sure

© 2010 Sue Barnard

Letter to my 16 year old self....

A dear friend of mine, Joanna Roddy, and some of her friends have asked people to participate in a "simul-blog", where several people post on the same topic on the same day.  The subject is "A Letter To My 16 Year Old Self".  Here is a link so you can read the others who are joining in. http://seattleiteimagery.blogspot.com/    Her blog is Roddylife http://roddy-life.blogspot.com/2010/08/letter-to-my-16-year-old-self.html and I highly recommend it.


Wow.  That’s the first word that comes to mind when I think of my 16 year old self.  Wow.

Since I am 51, a bit more time has passed for me than most of you sharing in this “simul-blog”, so a lot more stuff has happened since I was 16.  Many of you are just starting families, my kids are all grown.  But I certainly remember being 16 and all that came with it.  So, I am going to give this a shot.  Well, first let’s think of where I was at 16....

At 16 I was already married and had a daughter, Shay.  We had settled into family life and had even purchased our own home (after I went to court and gave up my rights as a minor so I could legally sign the contract).  I was learning to cook, bake and make a home.

The home we purchased was just a couple blocks from where I went to middle school, so every morning kids just a bit younger than me walked past my home on their way to school.  I have to admit it was a struggle watching them go off to classes with cares that at the time you think are monumental (boyfriends, bullies, where are we going for lunch), but compared to the cares that came with marriage and kids, I looked at them and thought “they have no idea”.

But, what would I say to myself knowing what I know now?  Here goes:

The first thing my 51 year old self wants to tell you is that you will be ok.  There will be times when you will be ready to lose your mind, and you will even have a couple of nervous break downs, but you are going to get through them.  You will think you are alone, that no one understands you and that you are unloved, but are going to be ok.  The person I am now, is because of who you were back then.

God loves you.  No, Sue, I mean it,  He REALLY loves YOU - just as you are.  In fact, He made you the way you are...really.  He loves you as you are now and the person you will become. HE LOVES YOU.

Be grateful.  Be very grateful.  Don’t focus on what you DON’T have, but what you do and know that the possibilities ahead of you are endless.  Be grateful everyday, several times a day.

Right now, your meals consist of pretty simple stuff as your cooking skills are nil.  One day, you will be a wonderful cook.  And, you have taught each of your children to be wonderful cooks - so when you are old, you will not starve.

After you have your second baby (in about a year or so from now) your mom is going to tell you that you are too skinny.  Don’t listen to her.  In just a few  years she is going to do an about face and every time she measures your hips for a new garment she is making she will say “Oh Susie!” as she looks at the tape measure and your growing hips.  Weight is harder to lose the older you get.

Believe in yourself and don’t be intimidated by what you don’t know, but do everything you can to learn what you need to know.  You will not have many people you can identify with because of your early motherhood, but don’t be discouraged.  Even though it seems like many of the people around you talk “down” to you, underneath they really do admire your courage and maturity.  They respect you and you should respect yourself.

God loves you.

Your love of reading will pay off, so keep on reading whatever you can get your hands on.

You will be a great mother.  Hug those babies as often as you think of it because truly, it is the blink of an eye.  You don't believe that now, and nothing I say will convince you of it and thats ok.  But look at those sweet faces whenever you get the chance, tell them how wonderful they are and pray for them always.  Cherish these days of young motherhood.

You will never love cleaning house so don’t even start beating yourself up over it.  Just because you accept Christ does not mean you automatically become a perfect housekeeper, so stop thinking something is wrong with you. You are no less of a woman because of it and there are many other things you will excel in.  In fact, soon you will get the revelation that the term “housewife” is demeaning and tell people that call you one that you are married to a man, not a house.  You go girl!

Your kids will grow up to be wonderful, gifted human beings.

You will have great friends.  Many of them will help you be a better mother.

It's ok to ask for help, don't always feel that you are stupid if you don't know something.  ALL mothers need help, not just 16 year old ones.  You are normal.

Right now, you still have some issues with your parents.  Even though you are married and have your own child, a part of you is still that rebellious teenager that does not want to be told what to do.  But one of these days, a light will go on and you will appreciate them more than you can ever imagine.  They are about as scared as a parent can be right now, wondering if you are going to make it.  But you will make them proud and will gain a new respect for them in the not too distant future.  They love you more than you can see right now, but one day you will understand.

You have a purpose...several in fact.  It's a wonderful journey discovering them all.

Exercise.  All the time, make it a way of life and learn to love it.

Fad diets don’t work...don’t even waste your time.

Sometimes life sucks so bad you want to ask God if He really knows what He is doing - go ahead, ask.  Tell Him how you really feel because He knows anyway.  He is not going to strike you dead for being honest, He is not going to be angry because you said the "wrong" thing.  He is so much more merciful than what you are being led to believe. Think of the love you feel for your daughter and multiply that by a number too large to imagine...that is how your heavenly Father feels about you.  After your rant, listen to what He has to say.  He loves you and wants to give you the desires of your heart.

Know that everything you go through, every experience you have will add to you.  God will use the good times and bad to teach you, strengthen you and bring you closer to Him.  Soak it all in, write it all down.  Those journals are your story and it is a grand story.  You will gain confidence over the years and one day will be able to tell your story and there will be no shame.  God has done marvelous things in your life and you are loved beyond what you have ever dreamed.

Keep going...the best is yet to come.

Confessions...

It is said that confession is good for the soul. And I have one to unload. I really like the Dollar Store.

Many of you probably think, “And?” Why do you need to confess that?

Bill and I try very hard to be as locally minded, fair trade, fair wages and good for the environment as possible. What does that have to do with the “Dollar Store”? Well, maybe a lot. They now make things specifically for the Dollar Store, where years ago they were buy outs of last years products, overstocks and such. So to stock a lot of the stuff in a dollar store, people are working in a factory somewhere being paid to make things that only sell for a dollar...imagine what it actually costs to make them. Probably not the best wages, or the best products.

But last week I had occasion to go to the Dollar Store. I had a fundraising Gala to attend and needed new shoes to go with my outfit - which I had just purchased the day before the Gala - I know, not too bright, but shoe shopping is my least favorite thing to do. I have wide, flat feet and finding “pretty” shoes that fit and feel good does not happen easily.

I miraculously find a nice pair without too much stress and ended up buying two different colors (light gold and off white) of the same shoe to take home because I wanted to try them both with my dress (and get my daughter Shay’s advice on which color to choose). We chose the light gold ones, rather than the off white and I was actually kind of excited about wearing the shoes. I even purchased nail polish to match, thinking it would be a nice touch.

So, the morning of the event (Saturday) I wake up and enjoy the patio with coffee and my sweetie pie. It was a beautiful morning, cool and pleasant. We sat out there for about an hour and came in to have some steel cut oats for breakfast. As we walk through the dining room after breakfast, I take note of my dress laid out on the chair to be pressed. I want to show Bill my choice of shoes and my “accessories” (another Shay decision). Since I still have both colors of shoes, I also want to see if he would pick the color we did to go with the outfit.

I take the shoes out of the boxes and immediately he picks the light gold. I am relieved and decide to put them on to show him how they look. I put the left one on and fasten it. I put the right one on and...wait a minute...what’s up...I can’t...fit...my...foot...in...it. What!!!!??? I try again and I cannot fit my right foot in the shoe. Now, I swear I tried both shoes on in the store...but I pick up the right shoe to see if I have a different size. Nope, same as the left. Bill asks if I have been sitting on my feet (my favorite way to sit) and I say no, I don’t think so, but decide to sit for a few minutes, not on my feet, and see if it makes a difference. Try again. No go, this foot ain’t fitting in this shoe! It’s about 11 a.m. and the Gala starts at 6, so I figure I better get to DSW and see if I can correct this.

I get to the shoe store and explain my dilemma. One of the girls that I had chatted with the day before when I purchased the shoes was there and was very understanding and took me right over to where my shoes were. She looks for another 9M (I usually wear an 8, but that is also in sandals and flats, not heels) but there are none. However, she finds a 10 and I try it on. It actually feels pretty good, although it is a bit loose at the heel and I will have to punch another hole in the straps to correct this. The woman tells me the best way to punch a clean hole in the strap is with a dental tool that has a pick on the end of it (the thing they use to scrape plaque off your teeth). She says you can get one at Meijer for a few bucks. I thank her for the advice, exchange the shoes, return the off white ones for credit and I am on my way.

The DSW is on the south side of South Bend in a complex with a bunch of other stores, one of them being “The Dollar Store”. Now, I have not been in one for quite some time, for the afore mentioned reasons. But as I think of this little dental tool I was told about, realizing it will probably cost a few bucks, I look up and see the store in front of me and think “Hey, the Dollar Store probably has one”. So, off I go.

As soon as I walk in, I feel kind of comfortable - which surprises me. I take note of this and wonder why I feel that way.  All around me is just about anything you could ever need...and each item is only a dollar - or less! Even the smell of the store is kind of comforting and familiar...I don’t know if I can really describe it...nice plastic or something like that. It is the combined smell of a million different sundries all mixed together. It just puts me at ease. I know I am going to find something to work for the job of punching a hole in my strap. I decide I am not going to dilly dally though, so I head for the toothpaste aisle. But wait...what’s this? A display of back to school items that has magnetic dry erase boards....for only a dollar! Since it is magnetic, I could hang it on the side of my fridge and use it to make grocery lists and write notes. I used to have one but it was not magnetic and I had it rigged up kind of goofy on the fridge and it was forever falling down - and I had paid a lot more than a dollar for it. I have to have this one. I pick it up and continue on towards the dental aisle.

I find it and start down the row. The wall is lined with tooth paste, tooth brushes and such. But right across from that, on the left side, is make up and manicure supplies. Now, I don’t buy cheap make up anymore, as I have learned my lesson on that. But eye liner jumps out at me and I stop to look at it. I don’t use it often, so my pencils tend to get dried up or lost in some abyss between uses. I think I might want to have some for tonight’s event, so I look at them. Now, the thought does cross my mind that I might not want to put something on my face that only costs a dollar, but then notice that it is a brand name eye liner, so I figure it’s just discontinued shades or something like that. As I try to make my choice, I think I know why they are in the dollar store - no where on the package is there a color listed, only on the pencil, which of course is tiny and depending on how it sits in the package, almost unreadable. I am able to see the color on a couple and make my choice. Now if it dries up or gets lost, hey, I have only spent a dollar. And next to those are lip liner pencils...another thing I rarely use, but I like the color and its another brand name, so I pick one of those up.

I bring myself back to task, turn around and scan the dental selections on the other side of the aisle. I gaze through the tooth paste as well, just to see if my favorite brand is there, but am reminded that they found some kind of poison or something a while back in dollar store toothpaste, and even though the one I use is a brand name, I forget about buying that (which they don't have anyway). I continue looking and no dental tools. Paste, brushes, dental floss, but no dental tools. Damn. But hey, there are lots of other things to punch a hole with, so I don’t give up. I just turn back around to the other side of the aisle where the manicure supplies are. Here they have whole manicure kits for only a dollar. Many of them have little pointy scissors with tiny ends on them and I think...well those will work. I have a pair at home, but they cost more than a dollar and I am not sure I want to dull them with my shoe strap, so I pick out a kit from the 4 or 5 choices and am sure I have found what I need. I continue down the aisle and there are soaps, lotions, shower caps...so many things! I pick up some “Yardley” lavender soap and smell it...mmmmm. I notice the “Tone” cocoa butter soap and pick it up. The smell of original tone soap brings back a kind of nice memory for me from years ago, so I smell that as well. However, the memory is not one I need to be dwelling on, so I put it back in the bin.

Now, I have what I came for, plus 2, so I should be good, right? But it won’t hurt to look a bit more will it...there is just so much to see! So I peruse a bit more. Oh look, those cool super absorbent hair towel turban thingies! I have one, but it is small, so it does not fit my hair any longer, since it now grows beyond my shoulders. I pick it up and look at the picture on the box, which promises lots of twirl room, so I have to get it.

There are only 4 things in my hand now, and I still have a bit more time, so I decide to walk around. Oh, there are the wine glasses...a favorite of mine. Several times in my travels out of town, I have hit a dollar store to get some real wine glasses to use, and then leave behind. Wine always tastes better in a real wine glass (wine in plastic is the devils idea) and I rarely travel anywhere that wine is not involved. I am forever breaking mine, so it doesn’t hurt to have a few extras. I look over what they have and resist the temptation to buy. They are pretty nice, but the stems are a bit thicker than I like, so I move along. I look down the food aisle, but don’t go down it. I am still pretty convinced that I don’t want anything from the dollar store that I am going to ingest, so its not too hard to pass it by. Most of the food is crap anyway, and I am trying to be good.

Oh, but look, there are nylons! I don’t wear those very often, but it is nice to have an extra pair around, so I check those out. I pick out a pair that are control top ones, because they are nice to have to “smooth things out a bit”. On my way through the aisle, I remember I need light bulbs, so I detour to that aisle. Most of our lights now carry the compact fluorescent bulbs, which I hate, but I understand their value and purpose. But, for reading, they just don’t give me enough light, so I have a couple lamps I use the old bulbs in. I pick up a package of 75 watters and I am on my way again.

I head towards the checkout, but decide to take one more look at the manicure stuff. They have the 3 way buffers, that I like (file, smooth and shine) so I pick one of those up, as well as a regular emery board. Ok, now I am up to 8 items...all cradled in my arms, as I took no cart or basket when I came in (because I was just wanting that one thingy to poke a hole in my shoe strap). Oh, and there is a “smudger” brush for my newly purchased eyeliner. So 9 items...

I get to the check out (which is packed) and wait my turn. The nice clerk rings me up...“That will be $10.70”. Hmmm..that means I have 10 items...what else did I pick up? I don’t recall but I am sure she is correct and pay the money and head home.

When I get home I get the shoes out to show Bill and thankfully they BOTH fit my feet. I explain my need for an extra hole and that I have carefully selected a tool to do that and pretty please will you take care of it for me...but he does not see the need. “They look good” he says. He can tell by the look on my face I don’t agree and tells me he will punch a hole if I really want him to and yes of course I really want him to because I have just spent $10 getting a tool that costs a dollar to punch a hole! I continue to get ready in another room and leave him to the task, which he does, and they look great.

I use several of my dollar store supplies to ready myself for the evening. We attend our Gala and all goes beautifully.  We have a wonderful time, although my feet are killing me by the end of the evening as they are not used to wearing anything higher than a shoe sole. But it was worth it.

This now concludes my confession of being a secret dollar store junkie. I really did not think I was until I walked back into the store and realized I had missed it. I am hoping that I have not stirred something that cannot be reasonably controlled. You know what is the funniest thing about all of this? This morning, before Bill left for work I read my story to him and the first thing he said was...“Did you check to make sure you had 10 items” and the next was “I didn’t use the scissors, I used a safety pin”. Laughter is good for the soul too....