Who are you Screwing?

A horrible fallacy lies in the saying "sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me."

When I went through my divorce I got the nastiest emails from my loving Christian friends. Sticks and stones of bitter anger thrown at me labeling me with names. I was doomed to hell. 

I felt unlovable.

Dirty.

Judged.

Condemned.

Few loved me when I was "unclean" to them. 

The thread hair belief I had left in organized religion finally snapped. 

I wanted to throw my own sticks and stones right back on them. For years, I held their shared secret hurts and wounds in silence.

But I couldn't. 

My emotional strength was gone.

I harbor hate that I am trying to let go. I need to find a way to do this.

See names do more than hurt...they scar.

If you could see my heart there are a thousands scars tightly embedded that sometimes glisten so bright they sometimes easily cloud the good.

But I choose to not focus on the hate, but use it to help others who are making a change.

In a way it's the ultimate "screw you!"

Using my own wounds to passionately help others propel themselves through change.

To guide and protect them on their journey.

Because NO ONE deserves to be scarred for being what or who they are designed to be.

Change is often a solo journey.

With others laughing or mocking you as you evolve.

Because their own fears cloud their belief that you could be better off in a different job, living someplace else, not married to their son.

And you continue to move forward, and they continue to feel left behind.

But that's their choice.

And then one day you realize you finally feel at home.

You are where you are suppose to be, doing what you were meant to do, living with whom you heart was meant to love. 

And it looks a whole lot different than you ever imagined. 

And they still can't figure it out.

In fact, you scare them. 

Because you did something so many desire but never do.

You choose to live your life for you.

And sometimes the past haunts the present and you kick and scream it away.

Because the beauty of the life you have now really is your heaven on earth.

It took a walk through hell to get here, the loss of familiar things, a breaking free of family and friends, going against the common way of thought,..but there is no other place I'd rather be then where I am today.

Your world is full of others who want you to be something for them, but what is it you want to be? To do? How do you want to live?

You already know these answers. 

You have your reasons for not doing them.

I know what they are.

But, I also know you don't have to live a life less than you desire. 

And I pray this year you at least take one small step forward. 

Trust me, it is so worth it! 

And when others start to question you, to call you names---just call me.

Who really wants to stand in an oversized net with balls being kicked at them from every angle?

The soccer season ended with both her arms wrapped in casts. Perhaps a better story could have been told, but the truth was her Bolivian soccer coach had done this during a practice. A dive the wrong way by her and the strength and precision of a professional soccer players kick had this end result.

But the season was over and she could heal.

Indoor practices began and every one on the team took turns being goalie.

This was not a favored position. Who really wants to stand in an over sized net with balls being kicked at them from every angle?

After several practices he came up to her and said, "Sarah, I want you to think about being our goalie for the next season."

My blue eyes threw all sorts of trashy thoughts his way. Images of her broken arms stuck in my head. A crazy spiral of my own personal destruction played through my mind.

His hand rested on my forearm, bringing me back to the present.

"I believe that you can do this Sarah! I know you are afraid, but you are strong. Just think about it."

I would end up having one successful career as goalie the next season (we moved to NY the following year). Minus breaking all of my fingers at different times, I suffered from no other injuries.

I still have the write-ups from the newspaper about me. They remind me that when I put my mind to something, regardless of how scary it can be, great things can happen.

Looking back most of my greatest moments have resulted in letting go of fear.

My relationship with God started out of my fear of burning in hell. But like anything rooted in fear it was doomed to fail. Until I learned that God is full of love and grace for me.

Letting go of the comfort of a safe community and moving to the city has filled my once predictable daily existence with wonderment.

Choosing to work for myself from home without the security of a steady paycheck has broadened my skill set and I create things I never knew I could.

Learning to not worry about what others think about me has brought an inner beauty and peace.

Marrying one who many warned me not to continues to flood my life with love I never imagined.

I made a choice to follow my heart, to listen to myself, to believe, to let go of other's chatter that fueled my own fears and what has become is extraordinary.

Looking down at my crooked finger's typing these words, I smile. Knowing that Javier's belief in me touched me deeper than just soccer. I learned to believe in myself.

There is something you want to do today, tomorrow, or next year. You know what it is, but fear holds you back. How...lingers in your head while your heart screams but what if...

"I believe that you can do this! I know you are afraid, but you are strong. Just think about it."

________________________________________________________________________

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Wonder Woman Exposed

A shiny white doll sized casket rested on a pedestal cradling my nine month old niece. A pastor spoke though his words were inaudible to most of us there. I was transfixed on her casket. And when they started lowering her into the ground and the first bit of dirt was cast atop, a silent screamed stopped my heart.

Later that day as I held my four week old newborn the deepest love and the deepest despair wrestled one another within me.

Life was so unfair.

This week I learned that two of my high school friends had lost their husbands, unexpected and suddenly. This occurred within a matter of just a few days.

My heart breaks for them and their kids.

I am reminded again that life is so unfair.

We never expect that we will die at a young age.

Truthfully, I think most of us honestly never think we will die.

We live that way.

We believe that in two years we will get fit. We believe that in five years we can change jobs. Or in 10 years we can buy our dream vacation. Or in 15 years we can live where we really want.

We hold onto all this things we want for our life, for another time.

Oh, I know the thousands of excuses filling your mind. I don't have the money, I don't have the time, I will offend my family, I.....

A plethora of excuses you allow yourself to believe that immediately cut off your desires.

So we sit in a world we wish was different.

We hope for better days, but make no effort on our part to have them.

We allow our desires to be squelched.

We become like the majority.

We think we can't so we don't. We settle. We give up. We die before we take our last breath.

There is no reason for this. None!

Death reminds me that we are all fated the same final outcome.

What makes us different is what we do with the time we have.

Why do you wait for the life you want? Why do you wait to make the move? Why do you wait?

Sooner or later, your waiting time will end.

Do you still want to be where you are today? Or do you want something more?

It is not to late to have the wonderful life you deserve.

And if you need support join us for our December 100% online class "Doing the Right Things for You" (http://www.meellc.com/wordpress/onlineclass/) to get started.

"But, I am not like you Sarah." I hear too often.

I am nothing more special than you. I possess nothing greater than you.

I may pretend I am wonder woman, but I poop just like everybody else.

What I do though is choose to live my life loudly and largely today because my heart is filled with too many who never got that chance. Will you?

"Have the courage to follow your heart and your intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become."- Steve Jobs

Who Knew Santa was Mean?

I was 14, working as a waitress in the summer at a Bible conference.

Naive, unaware of my own beauty, oblivious I had talent, and enjoying freedom, I grew up fast.

I made lifelong friends that summer and we hold hundreds of stories to tell. Yet, a thousand more to never share.

It was a particularly busy week and I was serving three tables of 10 people each.

At the head of one table sat an elderly man and his wife.

He had snow white hair that he made no attempt to tame. His round glasses sat at the tip of his nose. His brown suspenders tightly hugged his robust round belly. And even though he was clean shaven his sunkissed cheeks hinted that he could be Santa.

But, he was not a jolly fellow at all!

He demanded this or that the whole meal with the continuous absence of a please or thank you.

His wife sat quiet the whole time.

I smiled and ran around like the energizer bunny that I was.

Lunch time was winding down and 28 people had left. Of course he remained with his wife.

He raised his hand again for me to come to his table.

I plastered the smile on and walked over to him.

Startling me he touched my arm, "You really are phenomenal. You kept up with every order and never complained. You made no mistakes. Smiled through it all. Plus you are beautiful."

Always sucking at compliments I started to walk away and said to him, "You are lying through your teeth!"

I went back to cleaning up to and only to see him raise his hand again.

Sighing, I walked back over.

He touched my arm again and said, "You really are phenomenal. You kept up with every order and never complained. You made no mistakes. Smiled through it all. Plus you are beautiful."

I started to walk away angry, yet he was still holding onto my arm.

Really?

And then I saw him slowly raise up his other hand which held his false teeth.

I laughed and cried.

While his lips parted, revealing his bare pink gums, and the most melodious laughter erupted from his soul. And I saw Santa's belly shake like a bowl full of jelly.

Bleeding Hearts

I stood outside the county courthouse in the parking lot surround by trees of yellow, red, and orange. The fall wind blew a chilly breeze that lingered in the air. It was Friday just after 5 pm and everyone was leaving work to rush home for the weekend.

"It will be okay," I said to one of my foster children. Really saying that for myself because I needed to believe that. The four foster children I had were moving to a new home.

I hugged myself, brushing my hands up and down my arms seeking more solace than warmth.

B stood there stone faced and lost in her other world where she was safe. R sobbed and sobbed wiping snot from his nose across his sleeve. M tried to mother the two younger ones and assure them that this next house would be better than mine. N looked me straight in the eyes, casting her hurt to the depth of my heart while single tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes.

It was a moment I wanted to never end and a moment I wanted to end so quickly.

I hugged them all goodbye and told them I loved them always. I watched them get into other vehicles and drive away. N the only one to look back with pure agony in her face.

I fell into the driver's seat of my car and wept.

Until I was able to bottle up all the emotions and bury them deep in my heart.

I returned home and was embraced by my three girls who had tons of questions where I had no answers. Of course I responded perfectly to them and they were pleased.

My heart still aches.

Not a single day goes by that I do not think of these four children. There are songs, moments, or sayings that keep them alive. Their picture hangs on our fridge.

I can remember every detail about the night I picked up these kids and met them for the first time. And I remember the moment I realized I loved each of them for who they were.

It is easy to love others in general terms and there is a place for that kind of love, but I think what we all desire is to be loved specifically. I do not just want to be another acknowledgement in someones life. I want to be something more, different, special because of me.

The pain I felt when the foster children moved created a barrier around my heart. If I didn't let anyone else get close, I would not feel the pain. It was an easy maneuver.

But, I cannot desire to be loved specifically without giving that back in return.

So this carefree, loving girl created a heart barrier that resides inside a woman.

There are several people who have managed to poke holes in that barrier and I have learned to love them specifically, but I still try to protect myself.

Truthfully, I have no problem being expressively passionate about things that frustrate me or I see as injustices, but I struggle being expressively passionate about the joys.

It is so much easier to live life in our safe places. Isn't it?

Where we think we control the outcome. Where things are consistent, predictable.Where we can love others because there are so few we love. Where we can get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch TV and go to bed. Where tomorrow is a repeat of today. Where we are neat and tidy and everything really does fit into a place we have created.

I have lived it too. Honestly, there are days I am tempted to retreat back there.

Yet, deep down I believe life is meant to be lived, tasted, savored, devoured, explored, and messily wonderful.

I contradict myself.

I don't want to hurt. But I think that really living life is intertwined with loving specifically.

So, I confess that albeit scary, I push myself daily to try to love this way and to break my heart barrier away piece-by-piece.

Unwritten Obituaries

His deep bass voice was easily recognizable and his laugh echoed the same beautiful tone. His snow white hair and beard adorned his large frame and gave off the aura of importance.

He would snap his fingers and his son would come running on command. I often felt compelled to do the same. That is how big of a presence he made.

I learned quickly that his domineering presence was not a reflection of his gentle loving heart. This big booming jolly man fought through kidney disease while never losing the twinkle in his eyes.

He became a welcomed "parent" in my world quickly.

When I graduated college, his alma mater, he made the 5 hour trip to see my commencement. By this time he was walking with a cane and limp and I know this trip was rough, but he was there.

I received news this week that Bill's body finally gave up it's fight of 17 years with kidney disease. What an amazing addition he is to the choirs of Heaven!

Bill was gifted 66 years and I honestly believe he wasted none! He gave, he loved, he shared, he encouraged, he supported. Pieces of him are reflecting in the lives of others because of the way he lived.

Naturally, when I hear of a death it causes me to pause.

When my life train gets involuntarily derailed and my inner demons taunt my worth, I often find myself reflecting on what will be said when I die.

In reality we are every day writing our own obituary. Not that our decisions should be based on what we want others to say when we die, but that our choices should reflect who we truly are and the legacy we want to leave.

Back in March 2008 I wrote the following in my journal: "Lately I have thought a lot about my life and I try to think what I want my obit to say. I feel it is insignificant to list my professional accomplishments, but I hope it says: on my tombstone- Now Dancing with Jesus, not resting in peace!; in my obit- full of love, life and compassion, shared a glimpse of Jesus with others through actions, mom that made us all feel like we were her favorite, wife who stood by me and loved me unconditionally, a true friend who enlarged others, Jesus lover and prayer warrior. Thinking of these things make me TRY to evaluate how I act each day. Oh I fail a lot- but I'm trying."

I am not sure what caused me to write this years ago, but much of it still rings true today.

It is all too easy to get bogged down in a job we don't want to do, or stuck in a place we don't want to live, or a trapped in a life we are not living. Because...well, we all think we have time.

In the future, I will..... we all say. We place core components of who we are on the back burner playing a twisted game of Russian roulette with time.

Why? Do you know your expiration date?

There are no guarantees in this life but this one...we are all going to leave this earth some day.

I don't know about you, but the sad solemn typical farewell service is not what I want. I want my leopard colored coffin (although I am debating being cremated and put in a bottle and thrown in the ocean to travel the world with a note to call when you find me to let others know where I am partying) to be surrounded with my friends who are dancing and alive. Who have tucked a part of me in the corner of their hearts to spur them on to keep living.

Too often we wake up too late. Too often we let fear hold us back. Too often we lose our enthusiasm for life.

"If you had permission to do what you really want to do, what would you do? Don't ask how, that will cut your desire off at the knees. How is never the right question, how is a faithless question. It means unless I can see my way clearly, I won't believe it; I won't venture forth."

Our world has advance so much that we are crippled. When prairie people hitched up their wagon to venture to a new land, they didn't check their GPS to make sure there were no accidents to avoid or bad weather to hinder their journey.

They saddled up and rode forward.

There are several people I am thinking of right now who have shared that they wish certain things for their life. I believe that these are true desires of who they are and the life they were meant to live.

And I pray everyday that their obituary doesn't stay unwritten.

My First Real Boss is Now my Husband!

Entering the bank looking lobby, I found a seat in as I sat waiting to meet the reverend. I tried googling him but this was before information was everywhere. I knew though that he was a large southern African American minister that was vibrant and a visionary. I was very excited to meet him.

As I waited a skinny, deeply tanned, pony tailed man dressed in granimals...(defined as khaki pants and a white or blue shirt)...walked by and said hello. I smiled and said hello back as he darted past. He looked professional but a little disheveled. I thought he was a maintenance worker or maybe drove the van to drop off people.

Five minutes later I entered the office of the minister only to see this skinny white man standing by a computer. It all made sense now, he was the tech guy.

Turning around a white Styrofoam cup was next to his lips and I hid my grimacing as he spat his chewing tobacco into the cup.

Who does that I thought.

"Nice to meet you Sarah," said the minister as I caught his blue eyes checking me out in my purple pants suit. Oh boy, he was that type of tech guy. Great!

Saving the awkward moment another lady came in. "Oh, I see you have already meet Micheal Elliott?" she said.

"Um...well...yes!" I said.

I grabbed the chair and used the moment to sit down and focus.

This was The Reverend Micheal Elliott. Oh boy.

He sat down, propped his sockless feet up on the table and spat in the Styrofoam cup again. Thank God he had on shoes!
"So, Sarah..." he said in his southern drawl...

"How much do you weigh?"  That's an illegal question to ask.

"I see you did an internship with the Buffalo Bills. Do you like football?" No. They are just people like the rest of us. We all poop.

"What are your favorite colors?" Black and red.

"Really, and you don't like football?" No

"Is your hair naturally blond?" Another illegal question, but no.

"Why do you what this job?" I need to make money. But, really I want to help others.

"Do you drink?" That is illegal to ask that question.

"Where do you see yourself in five years?" At home with my kids.

"How would you describe yourself?" What you see is not all you get. Honest, aggressive, always get the job done right. I am northern girl.

"What do you like to do in your spare time?" Read, travel, pole dance, cook and run.

"Where is your favorite place to be?" At the beach. I have always wanted to live near the beach.

"Cats or dogs?" Yes

"What is the last book you read?" The Bible

"Do you know who Frederick Buechner is?" Of course, just read Wishful Thinking

"What kind of music do you like?" Anything but rap, depends on my mood.

"You like country music?" I just said I like anything but rap. That is not rap, is it?

"Why should I hire you?" You can't live without me. Why should I work for you?

He swung his feet off the table, spat into his cup, and leaned closer to me. "Because Sarah, one day you and I will be unemployed because we have worked ourselves out of this job," he said as tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. "We will have ended homelessness in Savannah and replicated this program across the United States. And we will celebrate big!"

This southern boy lost his drawl as he fired random questions at me. And I fired answers right back. It didn't really matter what the questions were, but he needed someone that could keep up with him.

The next day he hired me to be his administrative assistant.

My second day of work he took me out to lunch and informed me that he fired everyone else before me. "Don't spell his name wrong," his wife at the time chimed in. "It's two l's and to t's." Don't..." And she went on and on and on. I tuned her out.

Later that day I saw him approaching my office wearing way too short red running shorts and a bandanna. "Employee fitness time," he beamed. "Either you run with me or you pay me $10." I laughed and said, "Can't show my boss up during my first month here."

He laughed and then sat on my desk. His itty bitty shorts were bothersome and I saw parts of my boss I never wanted to see. But at least he wasn't chewing tobacco and spitting.

"Sarah, what I need is someone to protect me. Protect my time. Everyone wants to meet with me, everyone needs me for something, everyone swears they are my best friend. You are the keeper of all that now. In one sense we are a lot like a husband and a wife. You tell me where to be and when and make sure I am there prepared."

I nodded. Please take your stuff off my desk I thought.

He bounced up off the desk and I shook my head in surprise and distaste and said, "Oh God!"

He chuckled and bounced away.

Everyone in Savannah tried to drop the old family names to me to get to see him, but they were all the same to me. I watched his time. Learned what his mood was for the day by what music he played in the morning. Listened to what he didn't say. Made distractions when he needed to get away from people. Scheduled empty time to protect his sanity. Said no often to others when they needed him. Told him the truth always. And never spelled his name wrong.

I know I surprised him in many ways.
He knew when he messed up. Often his apologies came with him dumping bags of chocolate on my desk before saying "sorry."

We made a great team for a year.

When I knew I was moving back to New York, I knew telling him would be the hardest thing. I rehearsed the most beautiful speech, full of admiration and thankfulness, but when it came time to tell him I couldn't find the words and just read my resignation letter to him.

"Damn you!" was all he said to me for the next 48 hours.

My last day they gave me a "Damn you!" party. We took one last stroll down the hallway..."Sarah, if you ever want to come back, the door is always open. Always!" he said as tears ran down his face. I nodded my head. There were no words.

It was a long time before I took him up on his offer.

But coming back was different and things in our lives both fell apart. And one day we both found ourselves sitting alone in the midst of hurt and alone. And we began deepening our friendship and discovering mutual respect and passions, and found a new door opened for us.

And we didn't wait to pass through it. And our journey has been the thrill of a world I never believed existed.

Love Lessons

The sticky late night August air swam through the crevices of the screened door. Shadows of sugar maple tree branches sprinkled across the entryway floor casting images of lovers entwined. Fireflies danced.

A small bench supported him as he sat down. He reached out and gently pulled her towards him. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he brushed the bare skin of her back accidentally as her shirt had come untucked. He placed his forehead against her stomach and sighed.

The wind kissed their skin as their hearts erratically beat. Silence loomed.

He moved his hands to her hips pulling her closer, and nestled his head deeper into her stomach.

"What do you want from me?" he whispered.

The question she had wanted for forever now made her mute.

Her head swarmed with visions of their life. Travel, adventure, simple joy. Laughter, dancing, unexpected bliss. Glimpses of beautiful, pure, wonderful love. In a moment they went from young lovers to parents to grandparents to holding hands as they rocked side by side in rocking chairs.

Her tongue wrestled to find the right words to say all this.

Time was now.

Somewhere in the distance a clock struck two times.

She placed both of her hands on the back of his head. Her deep breath made his head bob up and down for a moment.

"I don't know," she finally said. Her voice echoing eerily in the muted night.

His head shook in affirmation.

An unknown amount of time passed before he stood up, took her hand, and walked her to her car.

Before opening the door he took her face in his hands and turned her head towards him. Their eyes held mutual tears. He pulled her closer and hugged her goodbye.

She knew this was love lost.

She sat behind the steering wheel placing her keys in the ignition. He reached out and touched her through the glass of her window.

Wanting to touch her, but realizing that barrier now went deeper than a windowpane.

She would relive this night throughout her life. Not lamenting what might have been, but never missing the moment.

That night had given her an uncanny ability to face life with a force of bravery and passion that what do you want from me would never go unanswered.

And when just a little while ago, another he sat on top of the the dining room table, bare feet dangling off the side, and asked her the same question, she smiled. She walked to him, placed her hands on his knees, looked him in his eyes, found her words, and told him all that she desired.

And that was the life she received.

I stand in awe of the love I have been gifted. Knowing that I have never before felt the depths of pure unconditional bliss you have shown me. Thank you for the most beautiful life.

Living

Live. I think for many of us we think we are living, but what I have discovered lately is that often we become complacent in the safety of our lives that we forget to really live. I have always been a pretty positive person, but somewhere along the line, I started to become too practical. "We can't do that... because..." became more and more my response. Perhaps it was out of fear of embarrassment or lack of immediate resources, but my endless field of dreams started shrinking. Due to no specific set of circumstances I began to realize that living had become a checklist of daily routines and that needed to change.

Reflection. I have spent a lot of time reflecting on my life and have uncovered some "beliefs" I developed. I am not sure where these "beliefs" came from but I realized I am working hard so that one day I can retire and travel or learn a new hobby, that my daughters will have a better childhood because I am raising them in the country, that my marriage will be better because I live in a small "Christian" town, and that living a life of purpose means settling in comfort. I began to realize that these "beliefs" were faulty and also needed to change.

Change. I am uncertain as to what my future holds and yet I find myself gearing up for the adventure. Retirement will come someday, but I am not waiting until then to travel or learn a new hobby. And my daughters will have a great childhood because of the way they were raised and loved. And my marriage will be strong because I worked at it. I am not bound by fear of practicality or stifled by routine. I am ready to be challenged, uncomforted, and used for whatever God has in mind.

For I believe that in really living we can embrace our passions and find the true nature of who we were made to be.

The Voice of a Deaf Man

(A true story from 2000)

I had just left Wal-Mart and was going over my to-do list in my mind as I got into my car. Suddenly there was a knock on my window and I looked up to see a very scraggly looking man with his face pressed to my window. I was not sure whether to start the car and get out of there as soon as possible, since I was alone, or to roll down the window and see what he wanted.

In the split second I was debating what to do he held up a card and pointed to it. On the one side it said, “Pardon Me, I am deaf. Selling these for my living. Pay any price you will. Thank you.”

I shook my head no and watched as he turned around to leave. He walked with a slight limp and went up to the next person he could find. At the time I worked in a program to end homelessness and knew that many people tried to collect money to buy alcohol and drugs. I did not want to contribute if this was his agenda.

Had he asked for a coat, socks, or something else material I gladly would have given it to him, but I was hesitant giving money. I started my car and proceeded to head out of the parking lot when I was suddenly struck with guilt. We are reminded over and over again in the Bible to help those less fortunate, to not turn away another in need. Even though I was unsure what he would do with the money, I was reminded that giving is not about what I want or expect the receiver to do with the gift.

I decided to turn the car around and try and catch this man in the parking lot. I got out some money, rolled down my window and started driving up and down the rows of parked cars. Sticking my head out the window I started yelling, “hey” as I drove around beeping my horn like a maniac. I did get me some questioning looks from others, but continued my quest. And as my frustration rose and I was about to give up, I had to remember he was deaf and perhaps really could not hear all my racket.

I laughed at myself and finally parked the car and decided to walk over to him. I finally caught up to him, handed him some money, and smiled. He smiled back in response and nodded as he handed me a card like the one he had shown me at first. He signed thank you as I walked back to my car.

I laughed on the way home replaying the event in my mind. I must have looked like a crazy woman trying to chase this man down in the parking lot, but the feeling of guilt had subsided. I am not sure what happened to that man or what my money was used for, but I do know that this experience has helped me to not be so quick to dismiss others in need, no matter what they are asking for. And to this day I carry my “I am deaf. Selling these for my living” card in my wallet as a reminder.

Interpretation

Stress! Things have been rough the past few weeks and no matter how hard I try to have a positive attitude, my days still ends stressful. I think it is like Pavlov's classical conditioning--- even now hearing a person's name immediately brings me stress, a CR or conditioned response. Thankfully this is not everyday. And boy do I really look forward to those days.
Other the other hand I keep reminding myself that I do believe that the will of God will not lead you, where the grace of God cannot keep you. I just am trying to make sure that I am interpreting the will of God correctly.

Finding Me Again

I was looking back at the books I read over the past year and noticed a trend--- most were books on how to be a better mom, how to be a better wife, how to be better at time management, how to be a better Christian, etc. Now I am all for self-betterment (I doubt that is a word, but I like it), but when my stack of how to be better books was significantly larger than my reading for enjoyment pile, I got a little worried. Did I really view myself as needing that much betterment?
I have this mental list of things that I know I need to and have been trying to work on, but lately I have been realizing that perhaps my view of me is clouded too much but what I am not, than what I am.
And so now I am starting to become comfortable in my own skin. I am not completely abandoning my betterment list, just balancing the negatives with double the amount of positives and embracing (what I see as) my imperfections not as imperfect parts of me, but as who I am.
Somewhere between college, marriage and now, I had some tainted views of what I thought a wife, mother, etc. should be and how they should act. Instead of being Sarah as a wife or Sarah as a mother, I tried to be Sarah as the Perfect Wife, Sarah as the Perfect Mother and this led to not being Sarah.
I remember Ben once saying to me that he missed the old Sarah. He has no idea how much that comment has played over and over again in my mind. It has just taken me much longer to realize I missed her too.
So now I stand here feeling like I am no longer looking at my naked self through a magnifying glass, but looking at myself through eyes that have just looked directly into the sun- Seeing a blotch of shadowy imperfections yet knowing that my eyes will readjust and I will see myself again.