Monday, December 28, 2015
Thrive In Gratitude: Landmines and Trolls
Thrive In Gratitude: Landmines and Trolls: This time of year always makes me pause and reflect. Looking back over the year, wondering how it went so fast. Seeing Trey and Teagan growi...
Landmines and Trolls
This time of year always makes me pause and reflect. Looking back over the year, wondering how it went so fast. Seeing Trey and Teagan growing and changing. Seeing Grandpa shrinking and also changing. Realizing that we all have changed, even if everything seems like it is the same. It seems "change" is a word most people just don't like. It must have some bad mojo to it. Most would prefer to hear it when someone says "Here's your change!" and that's it. To find a synonym that actually works to define the process and not so much the outcome, that's what I am looking for. We've all changed. But what happened in the meantime? So many people say "transformed" but I can't get Bumblebee out of my head when I hear it (from the Transformer movies- just to clarify). Maybe it's just me, aspiring to be moved. Moved to do..Moved to share..Moved to help..Moved to not gain 10 pounds of holiday weight! Moved to dig deep within myself to uncover, no, to excavate, those buried landmines. The ones that would bring me such restlessness and really, at the root of everything, fear. Fear is a sneaky, well camouflaged, and often times mean spirited little troll that hides under the bridges of our souls. An ankle biter for certain, and a relentless know-it-all that I sometimes have a hard time disproving. Not sure why. I could easily drop kick that garbage pail kid and move on with things. That wouldn't be right though. See- whether I want to admit it or not- it's been the troll that has buried those landmines. Buried them for me to carefully and gently remove in order to inhabit a better, and more safe, secure place in my heart. Shame, vulnerability, fear, perfectionism- these were just a few of the buried treasures (or landmines, call them what you will) that I found and blew to pieces. It's not easy to step away from the destruction of parts of yourself. Your coping mechanisms. Your security blankets. Your perceived freedom. What if I told you that the freedom you feel you have is really your prison? All those landmines within you are keeping your life smaller than it is supposed to be. Tip toeing around them, or maybe stomping right thru them, only to bury new ones. The prisons we lock ourselves in sometimes resemble our dreams come true. Having what we think we should want, doing what we feel we must, and being the passenger in the journey of our own lives. Life seems really beautiful. Unless you turn on the news. Unless you see something on Facebook. Unless someone comes along and shares with you something so powerful that your force field of indifference starts to crack. You start feeling the desire to move to do something. To help. To pray. To cry. Thankfully, that troll saves you from being broken by these things. Work, family life, and Facebook all return to normal in a few days, if not hours. You don't even realize that subconsciously you basically shrugged it off and said 'close call'.
You know what the beauty of blowing up those landmines and busting out of prison is?
Shrapnel.
Shrapnel embeds pieces of our struggle into our souls and reminds us of where we've come from and why coming so far has made all our dreams come true. Shrapnel gives us grace. Shrapnel holds our humanity in place. Shrapnel makes us stronger.
Stronger to look at the hard stuff that indifference never let us see.
It makes us stronger to live and love deeper, both ourselves and others, furiously.
May your life and love be furious in the New Year!
You know what the beauty of blowing up those landmines and busting out of prison is?
Shrapnel.
Shrapnel embeds pieces of our struggle into our souls and reminds us of where we've come from and why coming so far has made all our dreams come true. Shrapnel gives us grace. Shrapnel holds our humanity in place. Shrapnel makes us stronger.
Stronger to look at the hard stuff that indifference never let us see.
It makes us stronger to live and love deeper, both ourselves and others, furiously.
May your life and love be furious in the New Year!
Sunday, November 29, 2015
Little Miss Can't Be Trusted
If you've read any of these last few blog posts you know that I've been strolling through my mind and digging up things that have been hibernating just below the surface. I have been working with Jessica Tomlinson to help discover how to bring my big meaningful dreams into the world. One of the first things we did in Bali was release the self-limiting, bitchy name calling voices in our minds that try to tell us we don't deserve to even have a big dream, and even if we did it isn't a good enough dream to have in the first place. I never really grasped the intimate, co-dependent relationship I had with my "Little Miss Can't Be Wrong" ego, until these last few weeks. I thought she was the one who protected me for years with her various, mean spirited whispers :
"You are not the pretty girl. You're the funny one." (that's why you're alone, so it makes sense)
"You're not smart enough to have anything but an Associate's Degree." (I wouldn't even get into a BSN or MSN program anyway)
"Moving will be good because no one really considers me a friend in the first place." (I've been here for 3 years and I don't have close enough friends to exchange Christmas gifts with or who would want to help me if I needed something.)
"Maybe you should get a new job so that no one realizes you don't know everything." (One of these days someone will ask me something and I'll be expected to know the answer, but I won't)
"Sure, start writing that book, just like all the other ones you never finished." (Just like everything else you get excited about that goes nowhere, no reason to waste my time)
"No one would want to publish it anyway so you might as well stop writing that book." (They won't publish a new author unless the author has 2 or 3 manuscripts ready and I can't even finish one)
Little Miss Can't Be Wrong was the protector of my deepest fears, validating them and helping me foster these beliefs so that I would be prepared for the "I told you so" moments that inevitably always popped up because I was stupid enough to go against that bitch.
Do you know what "I told you so" means in my mind? It means I can't trust you. It means that I can't be trusted to make important decisions because they always end badly. Do you know what it means to me to hear "I don't trust you" in my mind? It means I can't love you.
And I wonder why I have had such bad depressive episodes.
And why I have believed for so long that I would never deserve a really good man to have and to hold from this day forward.
Why, now, I believe that I have never had children.
Do you know what it means in my mind to have no self-trust? It means I can't trust anyone else either.
It explains why my 2 closest friends live 3 -4 hour plane rides away, and not down the street.
Which is why Little Miss Can't Be Wrong was my best friend and constant companion for so, so long. She was the only 'person' I could trust.
Until I met God.
Charles Feltman says "Trust is choosing to make something that is important to you, vulnerable to the actions of someone else."
Brene Brown's research on trust shows that trust is built in the little, small moments. Of course there are the big moments-the moments when someone you trust answers "Yes, I'll come" when you call her during your darkest moments. Smaller moments like getting an apology when it is deserved. It's being able to apologize when you should and knowing that the other person truly forgives you. It's seeing in action what someone professes. It's broken when someone you shared things in confidence, tells you something that was told in confidence by someone else. It's saving a seat. Calling on your birthday. Knowing what your deepest heartbreaks are and making a point to be available when one might arise. It is built when someone is vulnerably honest. It's built when someone gives you the benefit of a doubt when you might have acted badly toward them.
A lot of these examples come from Brene Brown's Supersoul Sunday talk about Trust. She does not mention God.
Faith and trust- I think of faith as a belief in something unproven. Putting faith in God is such a difficult thing to do, I think, because of the belief that all that we assume we know, we assume is true. But faith quickly becomes trust when you live in God's word because you see His work in your life.
This healing insight is a manifestation of my trust in God. As vulnerability uncovered shame and shame uncovered trust I always had what I needed to understand, around these concepts, delivered straight to me. And that is good to my soul.
In praise of Him,
B.
"You are not the pretty girl. You're the funny one." (that's why you're alone, so it makes sense)
"You're not smart enough to have anything but an Associate's Degree." (I wouldn't even get into a BSN or MSN program anyway)
"Moving will be good because no one really considers me a friend in the first place." (I've been here for 3 years and I don't have close enough friends to exchange Christmas gifts with or who would want to help me if I needed something.)
"Maybe you should get a new job so that no one realizes you don't know everything." (One of these days someone will ask me something and I'll be expected to know the answer, but I won't)
"Sure, start writing that book, just like all the other ones you never finished." (Just like everything else you get excited about that goes nowhere, no reason to waste my time)
"No one would want to publish it anyway so you might as well stop writing that book." (They won't publish a new author unless the author has 2 or 3 manuscripts ready and I can't even finish one)
Little Miss Can't Be Wrong was the protector of my deepest fears, validating them and helping me foster these beliefs so that I would be prepared for the "I told you so" moments that inevitably always popped up because I was stupid enough to go against that bitch.
Do you know what "I told you so" means in my mind? It means I can't trust you. It means that I can't be trusted to make important decisions because they always end badly. Do you know what it means to me to hear "I don't trust you" in my mind? It means I can't love you.
And I wonder why I have had such bad depressive episodes.
And why I have believed for so long that I would never deserve a really good man to have and to hold from this day forward.
Why, now, I believe that I have never had children.
Do you know what it means in my mind to have no self-trust? It means I can't trust anyone else either.
It explains why my 2 closest friends live 3 -4 hour plane rides away, and not down the street.
Which is why Little Miss Can't Be Wrong was my best friend and constant companion for so, so long. She was the only 'person' I could trust.
Until I met God.
Charles Feltman says "Trust is choosing to make something that is important to you, vulnerable to the actions of someone else."
Brene Brown's research on trust shows that trust is built in the little, small moments. Of course there are the big moments-the moments when someone you trust answers "Yes, I'll come" when you call her during your darkest moments. Smaller moments like getting an apology when it is deserved. It's being able to apologize when you should and knowing that the other person truly forgives you. It's seeing in action what someone professes. It's broken when someone you shared things in confidence, tells you something that was told in confidence by someone else. It's saving a seat. Calling on your birthday. Knowing what your deepest heartbreaks are and making a point to be available when one might arise. It is built when someone is vulnerably honest. It's built when someone gives you the benefit of a doubt when you might have acted badly toward them.
A lot of these examples come from Brene Brown's Supersoul Sunday talk about Trust. She does not mention God.
Faith and trust- I think of faith as a belief in something unproven. Putting faith in God is such a difficult thing to do, I think, because of the belief that all that we assume we know, we assume is true. But faith quickly becomes trust when you live in God's word because you see His work in your life.
This healing insight is a manifestation of my trust in God. As vulnerability uncovered shame and shame uncovered trust I always had what I needed to understand, around these concepts, delivered straight to me. And that is good to my soul.
In praise of Him,
B.
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
Shame on me.
It's very dangerous to pray for God to prepare you for the plan He has for your life. For he will certainly oblige. Our deepest wisdom often comes from the dark, sometimes shameful and often times painful places we've allowed ourselves to visit. I think of God as my tour guide through those things, plus through a lot of things I had refused to even see. Hell, I didn't refuse them really, I straight up didn't even know that they existed.
I've prayed a lot of selfish prayers over the course of my 39 years. Most recently, I prayed before submitting a profile on a dating site "Please God, only bring someone into my life that will strengthen and support my life in service to you." Really- a dating site, I kid you not. Sheesh. In theory it isn't really that bad of a prayer, until you realize I was trying to talk God into doing things my way. What I see now is that there was a lot of emotion to that prayer. It wasn't very specific, but it felt a lot like hope. Firstly, I was hoping that I wouldn't come across the usual online dating profile of bathroom mirror selfies, way too tight t-shirts and hair gel (have I missed something? do they sale those as a package deal?). Secondly, I was hoping that the matches that did fit the bill for taking their religion very seriously, weren't from the Westboro Baptist Church. Lastly, I was hoping it wouldn't be a lot of dead end messaging that would inevitably dwindle away into oblivion.
What? Can't a girl set ridiculously high expectations for a free, no frills dating site? (Coffee Meets Bagel, in case you were wondering).
God has an interesting way of answering prayers. I have only gotten one match to this day. It was a gift from God. Of course, it didn't really end up like the gift I had hoped for, which made it even more necessary. Now, don't misunderstand me, Mr. Bagel met so, so many of the expectations I had and it was so refreshing to sit and talk for hours on end about, well, anything. I couldn't believe this intelligent, kind, and if I might add, gorgeous guy, would sit across from me and be legitimately interested in me. Isn't it just like life (read = my neurotic tendencies when it comes to fear of rejection) to rear it's shameful, hideous head? The anxiety of not knowing what would happen or how things would all turn out showed up in what I thought was an intuitive hunch. Yes, he had already been talking with another woman, that he met before me and they had continued to do so. How DARE he not see that I am the most worthy of them all.
What? Can't a girl demand such ridiculous validation in hopes of fueling one small spark of self worth? I think back and realize I've done this same thing with EVERY date and job application. I must be seen as the most desirable, qualified, fantastic person, and it must be known by those involved instantaneously. As if I was everything to everyone. Guess how many times in my life I've gotten that kind of validation? Well, ok fine, there might have been that one time, but I had to divorce him when he started destroying my soul. You would think I would've learned that receiving instant validation is just as much of a warning sign as wanting, no, needing the validation in the first place. The Lord is a top notch therapist.
It really was a great week. Yes, it took me one week to completely lose my shit. It's kind of like that project in school where we had to carry the egg around and make sure it didn't break. The overbearing, overprotective kids always broke their eggs. Eventually. Holding on tight for safety resulted in a broken shell. God was kind enough to put this humpty dumpty back together again. See, shame is a pretty difficult thing to deal with and I was ashamed because I was needy and weak and fearful. I was ashamed that I couldn't shake the emotional hangover of it all. I was ashamed for feeling like I was being "that girl" and I was ashamed for even caring in the first place. Then in some soul searching about my aversion to being vulnerable, I became ashamed of that too. Guess what shame does to us- it makes us bullies or it makes us withdraw completely. So, I proceeded to fill my thoughts and his cell phone with every detail of what HE did to mislead me. (It would've been nice to have someone elbow me and say 'Hey, your crazy is showing'. It was a testament to his character that he didn't do it). I mean, what guy doesn't get on his knees and beg forgiveness for something that was never done in the first place. What guy doesn't want to spend more time with the girl who was in essence pointing her finger and saying, you should be ashamed of yourself? Shame loves company. Misery tends to shuffle right up next to shame and it's all over except for the voodoo doll.
I have so much gratitude for this entire encounter. I would never have learnt that I needed to be patient with myself when I am vulnerable. I might never have recognized the behaviour as bullying instead of the passive- aggressive (ok, maybe more aggressive- passive) commentary that I thought I had every right to dish out.
I would never have known what it was like to be proud of someone for setting their boundaries and staying true to their needs. Admiring him for doing something I have never seemed to be able to do. And the strength of being able to say all of this with humility and grace. At least, that's what I'm aiming for.
Yes, meeting Mr.Bagel has certainly strengthened and supported my life in service of the Lord.
In great praise for Him, through which all things are possible.
B.
I've prayed a lot of selfish prayers over the course of my 39 years. Most recently, I prayed before submitting a profile on a dating site "Please God, only bring someone into my life that will strengthen and support my life in service to you." Really- a dating site, I kid you not. Sheesh. In theory it isn't really that bad of a prayer, until you realize I was trying to talk God into doing things my way. What I see now is that there was a lot of emotion to that prayer. It wasn't very specific, but it felt a lot like hope. Firstly, I was hoping that I wouldn't come across the usual online dating profile of bathroom mirror selfies, way too tight t-shirts and hair gel (have I missed something? do they sale those as a package deal?). Secondly, I was hoping that the matches that did fit the bill for taking their religion very seriously, weren't from the Westboro Baptist Church. Lastly, I was hoping it wouldn't be a lot of dead end messaging that would inevitably dwindle away into oblivion.
What? Can't a girl set ridiculously high expectations for a free, no frills dating site? (Coffee Meets Bagel, in case you were wondering).
God has an interesting way of answering prayers. I have only gotten one match to this day. It was a gift from God. Of course, it didn't really end up like the gift I had hoped for, which made it even more necessary. Now, don't misunderstand me, Mr. Bagel met so, so many of the expectations I had and it was so refreshing to sit and talk for hours on end about, well, anything. I couldn't believe this intelligent, kind, and if I might add, gorgeous guy, would sit across from me and be legitimately interested in me. Isn't it just like life (read = my neurotic tendencies when it comes to fear of rejection) to rear it's shameful, hideous head? The anxiety of not knowing what would happen or how things would all turn out showed up in what I thought was an intuitive hunch. Yes, he had already been talking with another woman, that he met before me and they had continued to do so. How DARE he not see that I am the most worthy of them all.
What? Can't a girl demand such ridiculous validation in hopes of fueling one small spark of self worth? I think back and realize I've done this same thing with EVERY date and job application. I must be seen as the most desirable, qualified, fantastic person, and it must be known by those involved instantaneously. As if I was everything to everyone. Guess how many times in my life I've gotten that kind of validation? Well, ok fine, there might have been that one time, but I had to divorce him when he started destroying my soul. You would think I would've learned that receiving instant validation is just as much of a warning sign as wanting, no, needing the validation in the first place. The Lord is a top notch therapist.
It really was a great week. Yes, it took me one week to completely lose my shit. It's kind of like that project in school where we had to carry the egg around and make sure it didn't break. The overbearing, overprotective kids always broke their eggs. Eventually. Holding on tight for safety resulted in a broken shell. God was kind enough to put this humpty dumpty back together again. See, shame is a pretty difficult thing to deal with and I was ashamed because I was needy and weak and fearful. I was ashamed that I couldn't shake the emotional hangover of it all. I was ashamed for feeling like I was being "that girl" and I was ashamed for even caring in the first place. Then in some soul searching about my aversion to being vulnerable, I became ashamed of that too. Guess what shame does to us- it makes us bullies or it makes us withdraw completely. So, I proceeded to fill my thoughts and his cell phone with every detail of what HE did to mislead me. (It would've been nice to have someone elbow me and say 'Hey, your crazy is showing'. It was a testament to his character that he didn't do it). I mean, what guy doesn't get on his knees and beg forgiveness for something that was never done in the first place. What guy doesn't want to spend more time with the girl who was in essence pointing her finger and saying, you should be ashamed of yourself? Shame loves company. Misery tends to shuffle right up next to shame and it's all over except for the voodoo doll.
I have so much gratitude for this entire encounter. I would never have learnt that I needed to be patient with myself when I am vulnerable. I might never have recognized the behaviour as bullying instead of the passive- aggressive (ok, maybe more aggressive- passive) commentary that I thought I had every right to dish out.
I would never have known what it was like to be proud of someone for setting their boundaries and staying true to their needs. Admiring him for doing something I have never seemed to be able to do. And the strength of being able to say all of this with humility and grace. At least, that's what I'm aiming for.
Yes, meeting Mr.Bagel has certainly strengthened and supported my life in service of the Lord.
In great praise for Him, through which all things are possible.
B.
Friday, November 6, 2015
November 6, 2015-I didn't know my own secret
It was this day- one year ago. I dwelled in the darkest
places of my mind, and even there felt empty, alone, unworthy. So, it scares me
what I have been feeling over the last few days. Not the heavy suffocating
darkness of depression, but of the fear of being alone, unworthy. Of the fear
that my mind has convinced me, from years of living, loving, losing and letting
go, that if I were to hope for love again I would surely fail and that failure
would be an abyss I would never ascend from. Broken heart, broken mind, broken
soul led me to being broken open by the grace of God. Accepting Jesus Christ as
my Lord and savior was the easy part. Believing in a love that would die on the
cross for me, well, it’s something I could not grasp. I surely would never be
that lovable. Surely that sacrifice was made for those in the front row, the
VIP section, not for me- looking in through a window to a world I only hoped
that SOMEDAY, I would be able to walk in. Let my deeds out run my words---
chronic loneliness becomes a comfort. It becomes usual and normal. It has
wonderful hiding places for dreams, desires, and hopes- So when I felt called
to go to Africa from the serendipitous experiences over the last 11 months, it
felt like a relief. To be thought of as so noble, so Christ like to put aside
my western home to be in service to my neighbor, who is only like me in that we
bleed the same way. I realized today that it was just another hiding place. A
safe place to place my heart and soul so that it would have less of a chance of
being rejected, hurt, and through my mind’s eye, a fatal wound.
What better place for me to be? No one would be surprised
that I remained single. No one would question if I knew what my purpose was
because the assumption, of course, would be that I was living out my purpose. I
would be able to convince people that I had it all figured out. Wouldn’t living
in chaos allow me to never fail in that arena?
I’ve been an imposter in my own mind. Thinking it was my high
standards, my relentless pursuit of nothing less than perfect that validated my
loneliness. That validated my refusal of being vulnerable.
All along it has just been fear. A fear that, yes, over the
years has been fed by insecurities, false hopes, manipulation and being broken
by what I thought was love from another person. To risk hoping for love, I
would have to accept the possibility of being irreparably broken. I haven’t
even had the courage to recognize this in myself until today, so there has been
no instance in the last five years that I hadn’t sabotaged, for lack of a
better word, every relationship I’ve ever had, except for with children. I
haven’t opened myself up even to friendships. Even at work, I have maintained a
façade that I’m so independent and carefree, confident and self- assured.
Eating sushi alone. Watching live music alone. Being out alone. As if it was my
choice and desire. In the small area of my heart where this secret has been
stored, there still exists one more defining revelation. I don’t know how to
NOT be alone. I don’t know how to have the courage to be the half of a
relationship. I haven’t figured out how to overcome that paralyzing emotion of
fear in being hurt, rejected by another person.
The only straw that I am grasping at is that God will show me the way.
That he will always love me, warts and all.
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Thrive In Gratitude: Are we all just 4 year olds?
Thrive In Gratitude: Are we all just 4 year olds?: Trey is my 4 and a half year old nephew. There's a large chunk of society that knows intimately what it's like to live with a 4 yr o...
Are we all just 4 year olds?
Trey is my 4 and a half year old nephew. There's a large chunk of society that knows intimately what it's like to live with a 4 yr old child or at least be very close to one. I'm not such a person. This is my rookie season and let me just say- wow. When my sister Kelly, his mother, asked him yesterday what he wanted to do he said "Maybe go for a walk down the road." Which sounded good to her and she started toward the preparation of such a walk. When she was prepared, she asked Trey if he was ready to go. By this time, maybe 5 minutes, he said he didn't want to go. You can imagine the frustration, right? But then he said "I didn't mean literally to go on a walk right now. You know, maybe later." Kelly and I just looked at each other and suppressed our laughter. Where does he come up with this stuff? Whatta kid.
The day before, when his father brought him out to help celebrate his half sister's 2nd birthday, his parents had a little discussion that went something like this-
Kelly -"He's still putting the heater on the side of the bathtub." (small electrical heater that sits on the floor to heat up the bathroom.)
Lance- "Buddy, you can not be doing that. What did I tell you about that? It could kill you."
Trey- makes no comment.
Lance - "He only did it that one time for me and hasn't done it since."
Kelly - "Well, the other day he about got himself electrocuted because he was dumping water out onto the floor, towards the heater!"
Trey- quite adamantly "No I wasn't!"
Kelly- "Yes you did, Trey."
Trey- "I did not!"
Kelly- "Oh really? Then how did the floor get all wet?"
Lance- "Were you making a lot of splashes?"
Trey- "NO! I wasn't dumping water on the floor! I was dumping it on the WALL!" He fiercely defended himself against the allegation that he was dumping it on the floor. We all sort of laughed under our breaths and tried to remain serious.
Lance- "Well, from now on how about we don't dump water on the wall or the floor?"
Trey- "Ok."
Whatta kid! Such logic! But such mischief!
He, and I'm assuming like most 4 year old children, tests the boundaries of his behaviors like a stealthy ninja, as was the case with the water dumping. I'm going to say that 99% of the time though, he tests those boundaries like a bull in a china closet. Defiantly doing the exact thing that he was told not to do, while looking at you of course. He's at the age that boundaries and limit setting are incredibly important but impossible to implement for this little bull. I can just imagine him thinking "You can't fence me in!" As if it were the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona. He barrels headlong toward whatever it is he has his mind set to at the moment. He wants to have fun, play, wrestle, but never anything that requires sitting still. He's in constant motion and living in the world of his imagination. It is so fun and yet so scary at the same time. Limits and boundaries, rules and restrictions- we all know they are for his safety (You're gonna hurt yourself) and for his health (You are going to sit and eat something). Both of which seem like cruel torture to him, as one can hear by his very vocal reasonings of why he knows better.
Which reminds me a lot of being a christian. God has given us the Bible, and therefore our limits and boundaries, for our safety and well being- mental, physical, and spiritual. We rationalize that because the world is so "different" now that God is somehow a grouchy old man that tells us all the things we should not do. We nod and smile, and do exactly what we are told not to do. As if the text written thousands of years ago couldn't in any way, shape, or form apply to our lives today. I don't know about you, but when I look around society, watch the news, or come face to face with my own temptations, I think that we have a little bit too much of the "bull in the china closet syndrome". Making excuses to defend our behaviors and actions (I wasn't dumping water on the floor!). Thinking that we know best and wouldn't do "too much" of anything that might endanger our safety and well being. Thinking that bending the rules is somehow different than breaking them. We use God for our needs but refuse to heed Him in our deeds. Then we have the absolute nerve to say "How could God allow such pain and suffering?"
Shifting the blame to someone else seems like it's an epidemic around here. I'll use school aged children as an example. Kids get disciplined in school for bad behavior and parents come in furious that someone was treating their child that way, that it's their job to discipline their own children. Kids do poorly in school, and parents come in furious that someone isn't teaching their child the right way, because it's the teacher's job to do it. Parents that set priorities to the wrong things (sports vs homework; taking and doing what they want vs self control, discipline, and humbleness) gives the wrong message, and it is my belief that the entitled, disrespectful, valueless parents and kids in this country need a grouchy old man in their life. The good news is that there is one who is always available.
The day before, when his father brought him out to help celebrate his half sister's 2nd birthday, his parents had a little discussion that went something like this-
Kelly -"He's still putting the heater on the side of the bathtub." (small electrical heater that sits on the floor to heat up the bathroom.)
Lance- "Buddy, you can not be doing that. What did I tell you about that? It could kill you."
Trey- makes no comment.
Lance - "He only did it that one time for me and hasn't done it since."
Kelly - "Well, the other day he about got himself electrocuted because he was dumping water out onto the floor, towards the heater!"
Trey- quite adamantly "No I wasn't!"
Kelly- "Yes you did, Trey."
Trey- "I did not!"
Kelly- "Oh really? Then how did the floor get all wet?"
Lance- "Were you making a lot of splashes?"
Trey- "NO! I wasn't dumping water on the floor! I was dumping it on the WALL!" He fiercely defended himself against the allegation that he was dumping it on the floor. We all sort of laughed under our breaths and tried to remain serious.
Lance- "Well, from now on how about we don't dump water on the wall or the floor?"
Trey- "Ok."
Whatta kid! Such logic! But such mischief!
He, and I'm assuming like most 4 year old children, tests the boundaries of his behaviors like a stealthy ninja, as was the case with the water dumping. I'm going to say that 99% of the time though, he tests those boundaries like a bull in a china closet. Defiantly doing the exact thing that he was told not to do, while looking at you of course. He's at the age that boundaries and limit setting are incredibly important but impossible to implement for this little bull. I can just imagine him thinking "You can't fence me in!" As if it were the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona. He barrels headlong toward whatever it is he has his mind set to at the moment. He wants to have fun, play, wrestle, but never anything that requires sitting still. He's in constant motion and living in the world of his imagination. It is so fun and yet so scary at the same time. Limits and boundaries, rules and restrictions- we all know they are for his safety (You're gonna hurt yourself) and for his health (You are going to sit and eat something). Both of which seem like cruel torture to him, as one can hear by his very vocal reasonings of why he knows better.
Which reminds me a lot of being a christian. God has given us the Bible, and therefore our limits and boundaries, for our safety and well being- mental, physical, and spiritual. We rationalize that because the world is so "different" now that God is somehow a grouchy old man that tells us all the things we should not do. We nod and smile, and do exactly what we are told not to do. As if the text written thousands of years ago couldn't in any way, shape, or form apply to our lives today. I don't know about you, but when I look around society, watch the news, or come face to face with my own temptations, I think that we have a little bit too much of the "bull in the china closet syndrome". Making excuses to defend our behaviors and actions (I wasn't dumping water on the floor!). Thinking that we know best and wouldn't do "too much" of anything that might endanger our safety and well being. Thinking that bending the rules is somehow different than breaking them. We use God for our needs but refuse to heed Him in our deeds. Then we have the absolute nerve to say "How could God allow such pain and suffering?"
Shifting the blame to someone else seems like it's an epidemic around here. I'll use school aged children as an example. Kids get disciplined in school for bad behavior and parents come in furious that someone was treating their child that way, that it's their job to discipline their own children. Kids do poorly in school, and parents come in furious that someone isn't teaching their child the right way, because it's the teacher's job to do it. Parents that set priorities to the wrong things (sports vs homework; taking and doing what they want vs self control, discipline, and humbleness) gives the wrong message, and it is my belief that the entitled, disrespectful, valueless parents and kids in this country need a grouchy old man in their life. The good news is that there is one who is always available.
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Thrive In Gratitude: God's Not Dead- my social experiment
Thrive In Gratitude: God's Not Dead- my social experiment: Yes, it was me. If you don't know what I'm talking about then I apologize for not being able to make you a part of my social experim...
God's Not Dead- my social experiment
Yes, it was me. If you don't know what I'm talking about then I apologize for not being able to make you a part of my social experiment. Either, I somehow skipped you when I was going through my phone or I don't have your phone number. See, the majority of the people on my phone's contact list don't have my new number (new as of Dec 2014) and after watching the movie "God's Not Dead" I felt compelled to send out my mass of text messages, saying that very thing (which is how the movie ended). Wondering all the while what would happen. I mean, if I got a text message at 1 AM saying God's Not Dead, from a number I didn't know, there would be a few interesting thoughts that would go through my mind. The people who knew it was me thought I was having a breakdown or something. "Are you ok?" "What's going on?" I love them for that. I wish I could say I had a divine encounter, but that is not the reality of, or the reason for, the comment.
My favorite response was Fuck Off. I chuckled because of course I knew who she was, right, so it was even more entertaining to get that one! Although, to be honest, I was surprised I didn't get more of that general sentiment.
Mostly, it was silent. My hope is that the message was read with curiosity and maybe even a tiny hint of goodwill. I only received three replies stating that I had the wrong number. I wish I could contrive some sort of statistical analysis that shows the much higher number of no responses over the negative responses shows that the people were not bothered to see God's name scroll across the screen of their smart phone. I don't think I would get away with taking that leap.
There was one group conversation that ended up making me confused...2 people asked who the sender was, and their confusion was apparent. Although, the one seems to have realized it was an opportunity to make the other person completely freaked out and said a few strange things about wishing he knew who and where he was, along with a pic of Yoda...then mimicked the other guy when he said he wanted taken off the thread.... Well played young man, well played.
If ya can't beat em- join em.
I didn't know what to expect. Maybe in some small way, I wanted to know if the unexpected intrusion of God into people's lives would lead to a positive outcome. I know, I know...this experiment doesn't even cover that.
I will say, that when someone that I knew didn't have my number, replied with 4 little words, I was happy-
"Who said he was?"
Maybe that is what I found out.. For people who know God, the false statement makes no sense. Of course he's not dead, might as well have just said "No shit Sherlock"; and for people who don't know God, they don't care one way or another.
My favorite response was Fuck Off. I chuckled because of course I knew who she was, right, so it was even more entertaining to get that one! Although, to be honest, I was surprised I didn't get more of that general sentiment.
Mostly, it was silent. My hope is that the message was read with curiosity and maybe even a tiny hint of goodwill. I only received three replies stating that I had the wrong number. I wish I could contrive some sort of statistical analysis that shows the much higher number of no responses over the negative responses shows that the people were not bothered to see God's name scroll across the screen of their smart phone. I don't think I would get away with taking that leap.
There was one group conversation that ended up making me confused...2 people asked who the sender was, and their confusion was apparent. Although, the one seems to have realized it was an opportunity to make the other person completely freaked out and said a few strange things about wishing he knew who and where he was, along with a pic of Yoda...then mimicked the other guy when he said he wanted taken off the thread.... Well played young man, well played.
If ya can't beat em- join em.
I didn't know what to expect. Maybe in some small way, I wanted to know if the unexpected intrusion of God into people's lives would lead to a positive outcome. I know, I know...this experiment doesn't even cover that.
I will say, that when someone that I knew didn't have my number, replied with 4 little words, I was happy-
"Who said he was?"
Maybe that is what I found out.. For people who know God, the false statement makes no sense. Of course he's not dead, might as well have just said "No shit Sherlock"; and for people who don't know God, they don't care one way or another.
Monday, September 14, 2015
Thrive In Gratitude: Where do you find hope?
Thrive In Gratitude: Where do you find hope?: I've been at the bedside of many patients, and their family members, having a crisis. They, or someone they love, may die. It happened y...
Where do you find hope?
I've been at the bedside of many patients, and their family members, having a crisis. They, or someone they love, may die. It happened yesterday. He wasn't even out of his 50's yet; he wouldn't qualify for AARP for another 6-7 years. The doctor was only giving him a 50/50 chance of survival. I immediately went into turbo nurse mode (making my assignment 3 ICU patients instead of 2). Hanging drips, pushing morphine, and trying as hard as I could to carry myself with confidence. When he arrived, he was colored like death. His face, his hands, his feet were all grey, cold, and horrifying. Knowing what I know, and having seen what I have seen at the countless bedsides I've been at, I knew without even a faint glimmer of doubt, that what I could accomplish in the next hour or two might possibly save his life. As you can imagine on a Saturday at 1 am, in a critical care unit, nurses are on their own. Sure call the doctor, get a feel for what his/her expectations are and essentially explode from there. 50/50 chance. What on Earth would sway those statistics in this patient's favor?
Me. His nurse.
Hope. What is hope? what do people mean when they say " I hope..."? I hope that my next contract goes smoothly and that I enjoy it. I wish? I expect? The missing qualifier is on the who or what, that one might expect to influence the subject.
I hope that the Universe?
I hope that the bottom of my Starbuck's coffee?
I hope that President Obama?
I wish that my parents? dog? friend? lover?
I hope my Dad's nurse keeps him alive.
Do you know what my theory is? The person who is doing the wishing and hoping, is also potentially the same "who or what" that is expected to influence the subject, situation, etc. So essentially, people are wishing on themselves, or maybe a cashier, a beautician, a doctor or nurse, possibly even a football team to influence things in their favor. So, does wishing on yours/ or someone else's ability instill the required faith to overcome the anxiety that prompted the hope/wish in the first place? When it seems that the very fact that you feel compelled to wish/hope in the first place, indicates that you don't believe you can do it; although it may mean you think someone else can.
I once wished that a certain Senior in High School would fall deeply and madly in love with me, so much so that I made my Mom buy a shirt he had lifted off the rack and looked at, but put away. He touched it, so it needed to be mine. (I'll be honest- I never even considered that he looked at in disgust. Or even worse, that he would see me wear it and think it was weird that I was wearing men's clothing.) I can only say this- it definitely didn't hurt.
I don't want to imply that wishing/hoping on someone's expertise, knowledge, skill, talent isn't effective. I only want to broach the subject/idea about the wishing and hoping that goes along with faith in God (Purely on a psychological level, for anyone out there that doesn't like "God talk".)
I conjured up an exquisite suicide plan while lying on the floor of my walk in closet, as well as standing in front of a critical care drug dispensing machine. In the months, days, hours leading to my breaking point, I never begged for insulin to do it's job correctly, or for medical equipment to be easily available when I needed to steal it from the supply room. These things, the functioning of insulin and equipment, relied on an outside force to be effective. An entire manufacturing team as a matter of fact. Broken down, it seems a bit infantile to place one's hopes on something one can't control. So, for all the things that can't be controlled or hoped for, what do people do? What is the natural, unbiased response to a crisis that can not be influenced by anyone?
Why have I spent all of my adult life looking for a definition and explanation of the feeling I had inside me that there was something missing? What is that? Some deep planted memory of when I wanted something I couldn't have that I got from a commercial or movie, or friend, neighbor as a kid? For me, it is seemingly impossible to imagine not having God to pray to. Impossible to put my faith in the environment around me; impossible to put my faith in someone who doesn't have miracles hidden up their sleeves.
So I challenge you- where do you find hope?
Oh, the patient? I left around 7:30 am and he was pink, warm and free of pain. He was going to live at least one more day.
Me. His nurse.
Hope. What is hope? what do people mean when they say " I hope..."? I hope that my next contract goes smoothly and that I enjoy it. I wish? I expect? The missing qualifier is on the who or what, that one might expect to influence the subject.
I hope that the Universe?
I hope that the bottom of my Starbuck's coffee?
I hope that President Obama?
I wish that my parents? dog? friend? lover?
I hope my Dad's nurse keeps him alive.
Do you know what my theory is? The person who is doing the wishing and hoping, is also potentially the same "who or what" that is expected to influence the subject, situation, etc. So essentially, people are wishing on themselves, or maybe a cashier, a beautician, a doctor or nurse, possibly even a football team to influence things in their favor. So, does wishing on yours/ or someone else's ability instill the required faith to overcome the anxiety that prompted the hope/wish in the first place? When it seems that the very fact that you feel compelled to wish/hope in the first place, indicates that you don't believe you can do it; although it may mean you think someone else can.
I once wished that a certain Senior in High School would fall deeply and madly in love with me, so much so that I made my Mom buy a shirt he had lifted off the rack and looked at, but put away. He touched it, so it needed to be mine. (I'll be honest- I never even considered that he looked at in disgust. Or even worse, that he would see me wear it and think it was weird that I was wearing men's clothing.) I can only say this- it definitely didn't hurt.
I don't want to imply that wishing/hoping on someone's expertise, knowledge, skill, talent isn't effective. I only want to broach the subject/idea about the wishing and hoping that goes along with faith in God (Purely on a psychological level, for anyone out there that doesn't like "God talk".)
I conjured up an exquisite suicide plan while lying on the floor of my walk in closet, as well as standing in front of a critical care drug dispensing machine. In the months, days, hours leading to my breaking point, I never begged for insulin to do it's job correctly, or for medical equipment to be easily available when I needed to steal it from the supply room. These things, the functioning of insulin and equipment, relied on an outside force to be effective. An entire manufacturing team as a matter of fact. Broken down, it seems a bit infantile to place one's hopes on something one can't control. So, for all the things that can't be controlled or hoped for, what do people do? What is the natural, unbiased response to a crisis that can not be influenced by anyone?
Why have I spent all of my adult life looking for a definition and explanation of the feeling I had inside me that there was something missing? What is that? Some deep planted memory of when I wanted something I couldn't have that I got from a commercial or movie, or friend, neighbor as a kid? For me, it is seemingly impossible to imagine not having God to pray to. Impossible to put my faith in the environment around me; impossible to put my faith in someone who doesn't have miracles hidden up their sleeves.
So I challenge you- where do you find hope?
Oh, the patient? I left around 7:30 am and he was pink, warm and free of pain. He was going to live at least one more day.
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Thrive In Gratitude: ISIS and the Westboro Baptist Church
Thrive In Gratitude: ISIS and the Westboro Baptist Church: There was a picture last week that circulated the internet news outlets. It was of the 3 year old boy, lifeless on the beach, who drowned wi...
ISIS and the Westboro Baptist Church
There was a picture last week that circulated the internet news outlets. It was of the 3 year old boy, lifeless on the beach, who drowned with his mother and brother when a small raft his father had secured from a migrant smuggler, capsized in the sea. The father and now widower, broken from grief, stated he wouldn't attempt to flee any longer because now he had no happiness to fight for. I think I held my breath the entire time I was reading the article.
I wondered why our leadership hadn't done something yet; why it seemed that NO ONE was doing anything. I also felt incredibly ignorant about the whole situation. What was happening?
Who were the good guys? Who were the bad guys? The best answer I could come up with is that it depends on what you need from one side or the other, and at what time you need it. At least that's how I see it from my vantage point here in the beautiful rural countryside of Indiana. In the country I call home, the one where some of our biggest news stories are about social injustices, I see little focus on the international crisis occurring right now. Ironic. I remember thinking that apparently all AMERICAN lives matter. Others, eh, not so much. I'm sick to my stomach thinking about it.
I liken ISIS to being the Westboro Baptist Church, those who have a faith in one God would likely say that the teachings and behavior of that particular congregation do not follow the teaching of Jesus Christ and this one commandment- Romans 13:9-10 "Love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no wrong to others, so love fulfills the requirements of God's law." Being left with this teaching from Christ, it shows that what the Westboro Baptist Church teaches is a contradiction to the teachings of Christ, to the word of God. Full of hatred, self-righteousness, indignation (or as ISIS has shown- murderous, disregard for life) for anyone who doesn't submit to their religious truth- it seems to be unjust that they can use the label of Christian, or Muslim for that matter.The Quran, based on the teachings of the prophet Mohammad, specifically refers to Jews and Christians as "people of the book" who should be protected and respected. I have heard groups described as Extremist Muslim groups or Extremist Christian groups. I feel these are such misleading titles and that in all honesty "Muslim" and "Christian" should be dropped. The religion they say they identify themselves as, is not accurate- it would be like calling a stay at home mom an extreme feminist. Or myself, raised in a meat eating family, part of an Extremist Vegetarian group. It just screams insanity. Hanging on to a defined group because parts of your group share similarities with some parts of the overall group, isn't even logical. I certainly don't claim to be a vegetarian because I eat fruits and vegetables.
Could it be that few countries have stepped in because they don't want to be identified with a particular group of people, who happen to have a religious affiliation? Both of which believe in one God. Being fearful of accusers who would call them anti-Muslim or anti-Christian. Would championing an international social justice cause hurt a country's belief systems? If people will champion the keeping of religious beliefs, traditions and historical references from any social aspect of our communities, does that mean we have no duty to intervene when human rights are being violated, even if those violations are based on religious ideologies? As America seeks to remove God and Christianity from being the cornerstone principle that this country was founded on, and instead promotes a moral ground work based on individual rights, above all, (at least the rights that the current majority agrees with) then what happens when the majority becomes less and less moral? What will be the touchstone for those rights? Will the evolution of human rights be a progression of a loving, caring, compassionate people? Or will the evolution of human rights be a progression of entitlement, individual promotion and narcissism? Does it have to be either or? Can a country of people agree that the moral compass of a nation should be based on the inherent value of all life and maybe stop tearing each other apart when it's actually a common goal both sides believe in?
I want to believe that all people see the value in everyone they meet, because we all bleed the same. How will we become the change? How can we live the basic belief that life matters?
I wondered why our leadership hadn't done something yet; why it seemed that NO ONE was doing anything. I also felt incredibly ignorant about the whole situation. What was happening?
Who were the good guys? Who were the bad guys? The best answer I could come up with is that it depends on what you need from one side or the other, and at what time you need it. At least that's how I see it from my vantage point here in the beautiful rural countryside of Indiana. In the country I call home, the one where some of our biggest news stories are about social injustices, I see little focus on the international crisis occurring right now. Ironic. I remember thinking that apparently all AMERICAN lives matter. Others, eh, not so much. I'm sick to my stomach thinking about it.
I liken ISIS to being the Westboro Baptist Church, those who have a faith in one God would likely say that the teachings and behavior of that particular congregation do not follow the teaching of Jesus Christ and this one commandment- Romans 13:9-10 "Love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no wrong to others, so love fulfills the requirements of God's law." Being left with this teaching from Christ, it shows that what the Westboro Baptist Church teaches is a contradiction to the teachings of Christ, to the word of God. Full of hatred, self-righteousness, indignation (or as ISIS has shown- murderous, disregard for life) for anyone who doesn't submit to their religious truth- it seems to be unjust that they can use the label of Christian, or Muslim for that matter.The Quran, based on the teachings of the prophet Mohammad, specifically refers to Jews and Christians as "people of the book" who should be protected and respected. I have heard groups described as Extremist Muslim groups or Extremist Christian groups. I feel these are such misleading titles and that in all honesty "Muslim" and "Christian" should be dropped. The religion they say they identify themselves as, is not accurate- it would be like calling a stay at home mom an extreme feminist. Or myself, raised in a meat eating family, part of an Extremist Vegetarian group. It just screams insanity. Hanging on to a defined group because parts of your group share similarities with some parts of the overall group, isn't even logical. I certainly don't claim to be a vegetarian because I eat fruits and vegetables.
Could it be that few countries have stepped in because they don't want to be identified with a particular group of people, who happen to have a religious affiliation? Both of which believe in one God. Being fearful of accusers who would call them anti-Muslim or anti-Christian. Would championing an international social justice cause hurt a country's belief systems? If people will champion the keeping of religious beliefs, traditions and historical references from any social aspect of our communities, does that mean we have no duty to intervene when human rights are being violated, even if those violations are based on religious ideologies? As America seeks to remove God and Christianity from being the cornerstone principle that this country was founded on, and instead promotes a moral ground work based on individual rights, above all, (at least the rights that the current majority agrees with) then what happens when the majority becomes less and less moral? What will be the touchstone for those rights? Will the evolution of human rights be a progression of a loving, caring, compassionate people? Or will the evolution of human rights be a progression of entitlement, individual promotion and narcissism? Does it have to be either or? Can a country of people agree that the moral compass of a nation should be based on the inherent value of all life and maybe stop tearing each other apart when it's actually a common goal both sides believe in?
I want to believe that all people see the value in everyone they meet, because we all bleed the same. How will we become the change? How can we live the basic belief that life matters?
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Why this from a raving lunatic?
I've probably discouraged a huge number of readers because people might believe, like I did, that I wouldn't get anything out of reading something Christian because I'm already smarter than the author because God doesn't exist. Throwing the baby out with the bathwater. It's all good though. If it is meant for someone to read, it will be.
I've often been thought of as the sarcastic,cocky, quick witted girl, with the raunchy, foul, racist, inappropriate against the human race, jokes. People may not describe me in those exact words, but if you've ever read my other blog 'So There I Was' you know that I've not always been particularly tactful with a clean use of vocabulary. I don't know how else to describe myself but as someone who sees it now. My intention in life was never to hurt someone's feelings, offend anyone with my view points, or ridicule anyone else for theirs. Trust me when I tell you that I failed many, many times at meeting those intentions. There will come a day when I will be called out on my past. I might be completely discredited by people because of the glaring contradictions that exist between the me of now and the me of then. I am not suggesting that I've somehow transformed into Pollyanna or Mary Poppins, or that I'm not the same person I used to be. Lord knows I can't sing. And as far as I can tell, I still have all those pieces of my personality.What I am doing is sharing my desire to be better. What I'm doing is inviting you to grow with me.
I'm incredibly ignorant about a lot of things. Calculus, Art History, Car repair, investing, raising children and cooking, to give you a taste of things I am poorly versed on. Watching the news is so confusing to me because it just leaves me asking questions. Most often questions about why any Kardashian is even worth the air time when there are so many more important things to cover. I've always been idealistic and opinionated. Yes, even about things I have no idea about. The word you are looking for is arrogant. That would be me.
The past 10 months have been incredibly humbling. I have gone from the perfect suicide plan to a passion for doing something that makes the world a better place. A desire to give of my time, treasures and talents to be the change I want to see in the world. Ghandi wasn't making a joke with that one. Neither was Jesus Christ when he said we are all loved by God and that we should love our neighbor like ourselves.
Talking about God seems to be such an uncomfortable, itchy, twitchy thing. This blog will talk about my faith, my walk, and my gratitude for every second of my life, then and now. It is because of God that I am happier, healthier, involved, and encouraged. I don't know exactly what the term "born again christian" means. I know it makes me think of schizophrenics and serial killers. On what basis I got this idea probably goes back to the list of things I am completely ignorant about. I've spent years avoiding Christianity because of my general belief that all Christians are born again and that they were all raving lunatics. (Judge much? Yep I sure did.) Having spent a large part of my adult life reading about various religions and beliefs, the one thing that lurked in the back of my mind was that I wouldn't adopt a belief with blind faith. I had the same catch phrase of a lot of other people, most notably on every dating site I have ever used. "I'm not religious. I'm spiritual." Which makes me a bit ashamed that I used such an easy way out. It was my way of saying "I want you to think I am a good person, who has the ability to think on a deeper, more meaningful level. A level that is socially acceptable to the world I live in and doesn't make people judge me as a raving lunatic." Modern day religions have had plenty of unsavory secrets that have been unearthed and crucified. People in such a high level of community engagement simply cannot be trusted and therefore the religion is just quackery and should possibly be taken out of society as much as possible. Who would ever put their faith in such a thing? Can I introduce you to Bill Clinton and the unsavory level of satisfaction Americans have with our elected officials in general? The damage, and unforgivable-ness, of uncovered misdeeds and outright crimes are treated very differently based on the social beliefs of a person. So on this "spiritual" quest, I hoped to find a religion that made sense, I didn't believe in any religious faith that promoted killing in the name of God. I wanted my religion to reassure me that I was a good, honest person and that life would transition, through the process of dying, into something else. I wanted a religion that didn't ask me for money or require me to actually do anything. As a matter of fact, I wanted a religion that was respected, morally perfect and socially trendy.
Yeah- that didn't happen.
The joke was on me.
In what world do people get to pick and choose what is right based on their own experience? Maybe that's where the Kardashians live, but not us common folk. Picking only bits and pieces of a religious tradition is like basing health insurance reimbursement on patient satisfaction. The reality is that if the patient would have listened to the expert and followed each necessary recommendation the patient would most likely be much better off and have lower healthcare costs. But apparently insurance companies would rather base the payout for health care on how quickly a call light gets answered or how good the hospital food is. Note that they don't care if the patient dies, as long as whoever answered that questionnaire was "satisfied". The one thing that I can tell you about patient satisfaction, having been a nurse for 19 years now, is that patients who are thankful for their care, and see their healthcare as something that should never be taken for granted, will always be more satisfied.
This blog is about trying to be less "SELF" centered and more grateful for the life I do have. Gratitude unlocks happiness and fulfillment; happiness and fulfillment can be contagious and before you know it, the world has changed.
A spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down.
In Your honor,
Brooke
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