I Wish I Liked Coffee

Coffee is so trendy, and everyone is doing it. People are using their Keurigs while killing the environment, and spending the equivalent of a house payment at Starbucks every month. But I’m guessing, besides addiction, people actually like coffee. Me, on the other hand, I hate coffee. I hate the scent, I hate the taste, I hate the hot. Somehow coffee brings people together, like it’s some sort of club that only cool people who wear thick rimmed glasses and expensive costume jewelry can be a part of. It speaks a language, it does something, “Let’s have coffee.” “Do you want coffee? Yes, I would LOVE coffee, that’s so what I need right now!” And I’m standing there like….Sometimes I wonder if I liked coffee, perhaps I would have more friends, or different friends, or more intelligent conversations, or be able to tweet a pic of me sitting at a tiny table in a cool coffee house, with my computer, or book and a glimpse of my coffee in the background. Maybe.

I Wish I Was A Morning Person

One of my biggest struggles in school was the fact that my internal clock didn’t really start ticking until 5 or 6 in the evening. I would gain and still do gain a crazy amount of energy and be up until 3 or 4 the next morning. But then the alarm would go off at 7 and there was no possible way I could make myself get out of bed. Even now as a “grown up” (and I use that term loosely) I would much rather work in the evening and sleep during the day. But I sincerely wish I was a morning person. The world moves in the morning. Things happen. There is an energy and excitement that comes with the morning person club. Besides the fact that most of them drink coffee and are already in that club, now they work with others, do life as other do. No matter how I try I can’t force myself to like getting up in the morning. I can do it, but often need a nap at some point during the day, and I don’t like it. I have never ever, not once, ever was excited to be up early. I don’t spring out of bed, I crawl and moan and calculate. My morning thoughts are always figuring out when I get to go back to bed. I’m not sure if the whole thing is about me not being a morning person, or if I just really like to sleep. I really like to sleep.

I Wish I Was A Runner

cardio

Another club I just don’t belong to is the running club, or the Crossfit club or any fitness club for that matter. I absolutely hate working out. It’s not my thing. I’m envious, though, of these women who can get a workout in, between selling their at-home business products, having their coffee, dropping off and picking up kids and cooking an all gluten-free-paleo-vegan dinner that everyone in the house just absolutely loved! I sincerely wish I could enjoy an hour on the elliptical and see the gym as a stress relieving environment. However, I do absolutely love yoga, but I’m normally too tired from staying up late the night before, and not drinking coffee to actually go to a class.

I Wish, I Wish, I Wish.

We all have those clubs we don’t belong to, or those talents we don’t have, or that time we never get. OR we can just love our non-coffee drinking selves, enjoy sleeping until 10 because your husband is awesome enough to take the kids to school, and proudly count walking up and down your stairs as your daily exercise.

It’s exhausting to constantly think of all the things we can’t be or just aren’t. Somedays are harder than others, all the pressure, all the pretty people. And that’s not something that I wish: to be more exhausted.

I mean, I love that that we are all created by this artist and there are these seeming flaws that are really intentional perfections. Dont’ wish, we can just be.

LG|LP

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What I Am Learning As I Get OLD

About this time, 8 years ago, you would have found me curled up on the floor in the fetal position, weeping. As I celebrated my birthday this weekend, I was reminded how much has changed in my life, my heart, since I turned 30.

Thirty was traumatic for me.

For 29 years I told myself that 30 was old. For 29 years I set high expectations for my life. For 29 years I carried the weight of regrets, and mistakes and sin. And then I woke up and was 30. I was old, with no direction, and lots of baggage.

So I wept.

Every day…

For weeks.

weeping

My husband came home from work to find me unshowered, back against the wall, sitting on the floor in a daze. I had to get some help, I had to sort it out. If my car broke down, I’d go to a mechanic. I was a mess, I needed a shower, a washing machine and Jesus!

I dunno, I think we all go through those times in our lives, where we realize that life isn’t what we thought it would be. Someone wrote on a status on FB something like this:

“One day things will go as planned.”

I didn’t want to burst her bubble, but I really wanted to say, “Umm never. Things never go as planned.” Well not never, but almost never. And I could use the first 29 years of my life as case and point. And the last eight years to just throw it all in your face.  Nothing as planned.

I’m still wondering how my plans and God’s plans align, if ever. I think most of the time I simply stumble, and then ooopsey, I find myself some place God can use me. There is always more month than money, I find myself walking places more now than ever, I went an entire year without a haircut, I don’t know the last time I bought clothes. My husband works 70 hours a week, my kids are growing up and moving on and there are days I simply feel like I’m standing still.

But somehow, I no longer weep, I only cry a little.  I don’t curl myself in the fetal position, but there are days I do stay under the covers. I don’t live with too many regrets, only dreams that I keep pressing toward.  I don’t have it figured out, I still question God at times, and I have moments of hopelessness, Then there is God’s grace…  I find that as I am aging, I am so much more grateful for the little things:

A roof over my head

Food in my kitchen

Healthy children

I am taken care of.

Jesus loves me.

All is well.

Until I’m 40…

What are you learning as you grow older? Share with me.

LG|LP

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No Money Back Guarantee For You

I’m driving to pick up kids the other day, one hand on the wheel, the other scooping sugar out of a packet with a candy stick. My youngest bought Fun-Dip to give out for his Valentine’s Day party. I couldn’t resist, so I grabbed one as I ran out the door, so I could shamelessly eat it in the privacy of my car.

fun dip

I remember when I was a kid how old and ancient it seemed the age thirty was. Now that I’m a few days away from being one year closer to FORTY, I realize there are certain things that aren’t guaranteed as you grow older.

  1. Sophistication. I would watch the grown ups, the ancient people on the Awards shows and my grandmother’s Soap Operas during the day, with their long cigarettes, and love lives and Bermuda love triangles. Every adult seemed to have some level of sophistication that someday, when I was thirty I would acquire. As I was driving with my Fun Dip sugar trickling down the front of my dirty shirt, my hair in a bun, I realized that I am anything but sophisticated.
  2. Wisdom. I am at a place in my life where I have no idea what I’m doing. For the first time in a long time, I’ve exhausted all my ideas of what my ideas were. I’ve run out of any type of solution to any and all of my problems. Although I am wiser, I have by no means gained near enough wisdom to successful live the rest of my life. The more I  “mature adults” I meet, the more people devoid of any type of deep knowledge become my friends. Our age does not define our level of wisdom.
  3. Career. I thought by this age I would be on the downside to retirement. My mom worked for the same company for 28 years. By now I should have some sort of idea as to what I’m going to be when I grow up. For the last 14 years I’ve served in full time ministry in some capacity. But, sister, let me tell you, there isn’t a whole lot of financial return on that . Yah, yah, I’m making an eternal investment, yah, yah, I’ll have my reward in heaven. Even though I am completely content with what God has for me, I sincerely expected to be a little more stable in this particular area at this particular time of my life.
  4. Future. It seems every few weeks I hear of someone I know, who’s husband has a heart attack or has passed away. More women are getting cancer. When you are young, there is a switch in your brain that hasn’t been flipped, and you’re in this state of bliss where you actually believe…not so much that you will live forever…but that you won’t ever get old enough to die. But as your friends become grandparents and your own kids move out and go to college, the reality sets in. Today could be the only future you ever know.

My closet eating Fun Dip escapade was a reminder that even though I’m getting older and there is nothing in life guaranteed, that I’m not sophisticated or even wise…I can enjoy small moments. I can taste the sweetness of life. I may be acting a fool at 38, but I appreciate every moment of it. In a way that I didn’t appreciate things at 15 or 25. I definitely didn’t appreciate straight up sugar on a stick the way I do now. And that’s growth my friends. That. Is. Growth!

LG|LP

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Life Is Not Worth Living

It’s been a long, long, long week. After ignoring my cough for two weeks, it turned into bronchitis. And bronchitis is some real stuff! Like for real.

I have had my share of antibiotics, Mucinex, and Poise pads. (Ladies! After three kids, my bladder just doesn’t have it. Don’t act like I’m the only one!) I’ve spent entirely too much time alone, with my thoughts, while on drugs, feeling sorry for myself- trying to solve the problems of not just the world but my life. I’ve fought with God and the devil. I told you this bronchitis is some serious -ish!

I kind myself completely aggravated with people on Twitter and Facebook…borderline judging people –ok full out judging people–for the life they choose to reflect. I really haven’t been able to put my finger on it. I haven’t been able to figure out why people just Annoyed me…

Then, in an effort to use my brain I streamed a few TED talks (if you never have you MUST). A journalist who became a hemiplegic during an accident, went on a pursuit to find the man who instantly forever changed his life. He wanted some sense of remorse, instead he found something worse. He found another man’s life that was not worth living.

As I scroll through feeds, and have discussion and sometimes even arguments I find that what irks me most –most than anything — is the person who lives an unexamined life.

I’ve been examine by a doctor to discover my bronchitis. I was weighed (don’t even ask) and prodded– the cute little Serbian nurse shoved a toilet bowl cleaner up my nose to check for flu. The doctor talked through possibilities and treatments and options. He gave me some drugs & said hey if that doesn’t work, come back so we can figure something else out.

We aren’t really willing to do that, to shove toilet bowl cleaners into our spiritual lives or emotions or past choices. We aren’t Ig to let someone else in with their perspective, in fear they may judge us… Because judging is only God’s job. We don’t really want to change. When someone comes at us with conflicting view points, or makes us feel uncomfortable with their statements or challenges what we have known to be true for 20 years we defend and yell loudly:

YOU CAN’T JUDGE ME!
YOU DON’T KNOW EVERYTHING!
THAT IS NOT POSSIBLE!
NO
NO
NO

(As a counselor I hear this so often, it’s almost epidemic.)

I am learning that I want to be uncomfortable. I want people to challenge my thinking. I want to take all that is offered and seek out the Scriptures so I am always sifting my beliefs through truth.

Admittedly, I have unfollowed several people this week–not out of judgement –but because I want to be surrounded by people who are truly willing to live an examined life–even on Twitter and Facebook.

I’m not perfect, I have my blind spots and much, much, much room for change and growth and improvement… But I’m willing. Because I want life worth living. I don’t want to ignore things and they turn into Bronchitis– have I mentioned it’s some serious stuff?!

“The unexamined life is not worth living.” -Socrates

No Mercy, Kids! No. Mercy.

Zac’s been home sick a few days. I was so over hearing “I’m bored!” “There’s nothing to do!” “I don’t want to be sick anymore!”

I decided to be a great mom, like a super great mom. We turned on some National Geographic Show about polar bears brutally eating innocent little baby seal, ate pizza and played cards. When playing games with my kids, my rule is: No Mercy. (Well okay, maybe a little.) But the one thing I will NOT do is let my kids win.

Sounds mean, doesn’t it?

We were playing Skip Bo and Zac only had one card left in his pile, I had four. He was so arrogant, just knowing he was going to win. But then mom AND

Boom

 

But the thing is, Zac doesn’t lose well:

skip bo

 

He was so mad, he threw the cards everywhere and stomped his way upstairs.  I sat and patiently waited for him to come back down and pick them all up. It took a good 20 minutes or so before he worked through his tragic loss and picked up the cards.   I thanked him and we moved on.

I just don’t “get” the everyone deserves a trophy, where we don’t take score, and all kids are winners. Life doesn’t work that way. Life is way harsh and mean. Losing well is a necessity in life. We spend way more time on this earth losing, than winning. If our kids can lose well, even at a game, then they will be more prepared to deal with the real losses, the ones that actually matter.

What do you think? Do you let your kid win at games? Comment below.

Let’s Chat!!

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