Friday, November 16, 2012

Why I Ran Out of Bible Study (part 2)

So I was finishing up telling you why I ran out of Bible Study. Basically, I panicked.

Remember, I was supposed to pick my own small group. Well, I didn’t want to pick my own small group. I know that sounds childish, but hear me out on this one. There were to be two groups of about 35 women each; yeah, really large small groups. Kind of seems like an oxymoron to me. But anyways, I didn’t want to pick. I just wanted to be told which group to be in. To me, it just makes everyone on equal playing grounds. It keeps the woman that doesn’t know anyone (that would be me) from feeling like she is crashing the party of a group of friends sitting around a table. It keeps the woman that feels like she just doesn’t quite belong, even though she may know some other women, from feeling like she has to try to fit in as she contemplates which group would be more welcoming. It keeps the women from automatically going with their group of friends, resulting in no one really meeting new people. It keeps the women from staying with their own age group to where you look up and you have a small group of one generation in one room and another generation in another room.

Now, I’m not talking about a woman that might come with a friend for the first time, thus knowing no one in the room. I’m talking about women that pretty much know each other, because they go to church together and interact with each other enough to at least know most of the women by name.
I’m sure it probably seems like I have thought about this way too much and way too hard. Maybe I have. I honestly don’t think this long thought process is from deep seeded insecurities, although we all know I have insecurities. Again, it is out of habit. These were questions that we constantly were asking as we decided certain things for our ministry. We were constantly trying to find things, walls or barriers I guess you could say that might make a woman feel uncomfortable and not come back. We saw deciding the small groups for the women as one way to take away any barrier that might come up for a woman, because we all know how intimidating it can be for the “new girl” to have to walk into a room of other women that appear to already know one another and hope that you are accepted.

As I am typing this, I realize it might seem like I think the way we ran our ministry back home was completely right and perfect. I’m not trying to convey that at all-there were always ways we could improve it. These thoughts are just born out of things that we did, because we saw benefits for our ladies. These are simply things that we did that worked for us as a group. Picking your own small group in this church I am going to might totally work for them, but it was a new experience for me which totally resulted in panic. Maybe all of those women come wearing their big girl panties. And just maybe one day when I’m all grown up, I can pick my own small group like nobody’s business and rock it.
But not right now.

When it came time to get up and go to your small group, my eyes started seeing groups of women getting up and walking together to whatever small group they picked. It was as if my mind was watching women holding hands and skipping together out the door-BFF’s forever all around me!
I was sitting at my table with mostly the same women from the first week, and I was hoping beyond all hope that one of them would say “hey, would you like to come with me? I know you don’t know any of these ladies so I can help you get settled.”

And one by one, they got up and walked out together, heading to a small group.

And there I sat, alone.

I don’t know; maybe it had something to do with my “I don’t really want to be here” answer. Or maybe it was just my blank stare that scared people off. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because a lot of women are a little shy and don’t feel comfortable themselves asking someone to come with them to a small group. I know it is hard to reach out to someone, new or old, because we can face rejection. Maybe someone did want to ask me, because she knew I was the “new girl” but that was way out of her comfort zone as well (which is another reason why I go back to whole "decide the small groups for them" model).
When I realized that I was the only one left, I moved at the speed of light. I shoved everything into my bag as fast as my little hands could move, stood up, and darted out of there so fast I probably almost knocked someone over. I, of course, didn’t notice because I was too focused on getting out of there. I actually ended up tripping right next to my van as I was digging for my keys.

And then I stopped to get a really big diet coke (thank you Sonic) and cried all the way home.
I cried, because of my frustrations over me not being big enough to pick my own stupid small group. I cried, because I missed so badly what I had lost back home. I cried, because my very core missed teaching the Bible so much, I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut. And I cried, because I realized how unknown I was.
And as a woman, I long to be known. Not for awards or accolades; but, simply for the relationships that are born out of being known. There is power in feeling that you are known; for to be known says that you are important to someone.

When I got home, I put my pajamas on and cried quite a bit that day. (Hey, just being honest here.)
And as I put on my pajamas, I did, in fact, realize that I had forgotten to wear my big girl panties that day. But that’s okay. I’m learning to give myself the same type of grace I always wanted to extend to the women that I ministered too-we don’t always have to be in a place where we confidently put on our big girl panties.

Some moments in life all we can muster up is the courage to even put on panties, even if they are our little girl panties.

Hopefully, when we are in those moments, we realize that there is Someone right there, ready to take hold of our hand and say “come on, you can do this, because with Me, you are known. Now let's work together to put those big girl panties on!” 

p.s. Oh, and I never went back. I guess I'm still wearing my little girl panties.  

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

The Day I Ran Out of Bible Study (The Moving Series)

Yes, you read that right. I ran out of Bible Study. What's even worse is that I never went back. I can just see the headlines now:

Ex Women's Ministry Director/Bible Study Teacher Knocks Over Ladies as She Runs Out of Bible Study

You might be wondering how in the world can someone go from that to running out of a Bible Study. And you might even be wondering what sort of major insecurities does this woman have to force her to almost knock people over.

Well, I'll tell you the story so sit back, relax and get ready to feel better about yourself.

It all started when I decided to put on my big girl panties and sign up for Bible study at the new church we are going to. It's always good to get involved and meet people right? So I signed up even though, to be honest, I wasn't all that thrilled about the study being done. We were going to be doing a Beth Moore study on James.

Now, before you fall over, and I hear this collective gasp about not being thrilled about a Beth Moore study, let me explain. It isn't Beth Moore that I don't really like. It is more about the fact that it seems so many churches, especially Baptist, don't do anything but her studies. I find people that almost seem to worship her (which I'm sure she wouldn't want).

Also, I don't really like video series being done all of the time. I think it is just too easy to develop a ministry that allows women to not get that involved. I know there are women out in the audience that could teach the Bible, although it might be a little rough at first and hard to find them and train them. Yes, this is coming from a Bible teacher so maybe I'm a bit biased; but I have seen some awesome things happen in the lives of women at our old church, because we didn't do video series. I have seen women step out of their comfort zone to serve in various ways, because the ministry wasn't focused around video series (thank you Barbara for looking for teachers). There are women teaching now that use to think that they couldn't even get up and talk in front of people. It is a cool thing to see.

And when women see other women doing things, they begin to feel like they can do things too. They may not necessarily end up on the teaching route, but they end up doing something. I have had so many women say that seeing someone that they personally know and physically see every Sunday get up and teach the Bible inspires them. It inspires them, because they see the person doing life; the good, the bad, and the ugly. It inspires them to wonder what their gift's are and to seek them out. And all of a sudden, you have someone that wasn't all that involved in women's ministry getting involved, using her gifts.

Now, I'm sure there are many arguments to support the positive usage of videos, and I might even read them in the comments section as I'm sure I just opened a can of worms :)

But I truly digress. I'm supposed to be telling you why I ran out of Bible Study-and it isn't because of Beth Moore and videos.

The first day was okay. The room was full of round tables, each fitting about 10 women. I found a table in the back of course and sat down. The room began to fill up, and I estimated about 75-80 women were in there. My table quickly filled up, mostly with women that appeared to be my age, give or take 5 years. I did notice that one woman had sat down early on who was quite a bit older than the rest of us at the table. People appeared to know her though.

But, then she got up and left for the table in front that was full of women her age. Now, because of what I did at my old church, I view everything through women's ministry co-leader/Bible Study teacher. It's just a habit, I guess. I did it for so long, and I was always needing to notice things; things that worked, things that didn't work, ways to make the ministry better, etc. Actually, "needing" isn't the best word to use. I wanted to, because I love ministering to women. Anyways, I noticed this, and it made me wonder if the group wasn't fully connected; you know, the women stay within their own age group. This was foreign to me, because we had worked so hard at my old church to not let this happen. We wanted all ages to connect, as each generation can help the other.

The women that were left behind were quite nice and friendly. They knew I was the "new girl", because we had to introduce ourselves. Everyone else knew each other, but I didn't get the sense that they weren't welcoming. They may have been a bit shocked at my reason for coming, but they were still welcoming. You see, we had to answer one of two questions; 1) What is your favorite Beth Moore Bible Study and why? (I'm sure you can guess that I just loved this question) or 2) Why did you choose to come to this study? (This question was for us crazy people that have never done one of her studies which I'm pretty sure I was the only one that answered this question.)

So my answer was "Well, I don't really want to be here. I really want to be home, back in Richmond, to be honest. I really just came, because I know this is good for me." I've never been one to lie very well. Plus, I don't believe in wearing masks, especially in church. I could never win at poker.

I don't know if this answer turned people off or what, but the truth is what they were getting from me. It's not like I said it mean. I just really wanted to be home. It felt so odd to be in that room, sitting at a table. Not being able to teach the Bible felt like someone had cut my right arm off, took away my oxygen and told me to go on living. Watching someone else do it was just plain hard. I'm sure the expression on my face showed the complete discomfort I felt, like somehow I was sitting in someone else's body. And I'm pretty sure that expression wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy; think deer in headlights, someone plucking out your eyelashes, fingernails scraping on a chalk board look.

(I know this post is getting way too long, but it's my blog anyways. Plus, this is therapy for me as I process this whole moving thing. I'm trying to let Jesus crack open this new nutcase I've acquired thanks to moving, and that requires thoughts, lots of thoughts. Not to mention, my counselor is 6 hours away. I know, I know-I can just find a new counselor, but I have attachment problems.)

Where was I? Oh yeah, day one. It was almost over, and I was so glad. There was a glimmer of hope though, because the women were, like I said, friendly.

But that hope was dashed the minute the leaders said that next week would be small group week, and we were to pick our own small group! I about fell out of my chair in pure panic. What was I going to do?

You'll find out tomorrow. Yeah, I know I always say "tomorrow" and then it is like 3 days later, but really, I do plan on it being tomorrow this time.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Cracking My Nutcase (The Moving Series)

So, I know I'm behind on the whole day-to-day thing, but we've been sharing a virus over here at the Nutcase house so I have an excuse. And I should totally be cleaning, but I'm rebelling and going to blog instead. Priorities, people. Priorities.

So, with my priorities in order, here we go:

On being the new girl.

I find it a strange thing, being the new girl. I realize that I have never really had to be the "new girl". Because my parents still live in the same house from when I was 2, I went to school with the same people from kindergarten up until I graduated from high school. I mean, I guess in some cases I have been the new girl, like when I went to college, but so was everyone else. Plus, my college experience was not one in which I lived on campus. I lived at home, worked full time, and went to school full time. Everyone was doing that where I went to school so we all kind of just came and went, trying to balance school and work. So being the new girl wasn't a real experience. We were all on equal playing ground-no one knew anyone.

In these situations, I find that I do quite well. Put me in a line that is long, where no one really knows each other, and I will eventually meet some people around me, talk to them, and somehow find common ground. The lady that voted in front of me has a 4 year old, a new 6 week old baby, moved here about 4 years ago from St. Louis where she had lived all of her life, and had bought her first house 2 streets over from her parents. My best friend always laughs at my ability to do this with complete strangers. It makes me look like a regular old social butterfly with very little insecurities wrapped tight around me. I just really like learning about people and their lives. I don't believe that I'm nosy-I just truly like learning about people. I love questions-I find they open up a whole world in front of you.

But don't let that fool you.

Put me in a room of people that know each other, even a little bit, as the new girl, and I clam up. I immediately want to become a wallflower. I'm sure my facial expression looks quite uninviting; however, I don't intend to be. I remember visiting a church here, and someone told me I looked terrified when I walked into the Sunday school room. "Well, thank you. I'll take that as a compliment."

But the truth is, I am terrified. I immediately feel completely out of place, as I watch friends talking and sharing life. I imagine that everyone knows each other so well and has no place for a new friend. I know, I know; my nutcase wraps tight around me when I walk into a room of people that know each other. It tells me that they don't really want to know me, and even if they did, they probably wouldn't like me. Besides, they already have their friends.

I'm sure this isn't the full truth, and I'm probably making being the "new girl" way more complicated than it has to be.

But our culture doesn't really help the "new girl". Everyone is so busy with life that it does seem like no one really has time for new people. I guess the lie in this is that the truth is no one really has that much time for anyone, new or old. People stay so busy for various reasons, especially when kids' activities are involved. It seems community is lost, replaced by dozens of activities that just seem to leave everyone involved tired, over worked, and ultimately empty.

Isn't it ironic that our lives can be so full and yet so empty?

But I digress.

The funny truth about me though, when put into a room full of people that are at least acquaintances, is that if just one person would come up and talk to me and help me feel included, I would be fine. I wouldn't have a problem carrying on a conversation, because remember, I love questions. That's not to say that I wouldn't leave worried that I said something dumb. I would, but I would have at least talked to someone.

Now, some would say that by the age of 37, I should be able to do this on my own; just walk right up to people and introduce myself, full of confidence and completely unaware that they all know each other and I don't know a soul. I'm sure Tim could find all kinds of problems reasons why I can't seem to do this. I guess I kind of feel like I'm intruding or something. Maybe when I was really young, I walked up to 2 little girls talking on the playground, and they told me to go away; they didn't want to be my friend anyways. It obviously scarred me for life, so much so that I blocked it out of my memory.

Whatever the reasons may be, I just can't do it. Not now anyways. Maybe one day when I'm all grown up and wearing my big girl panties, I'll be able to.

But not now. Nope, I'm no good at being the "new girl".

Which is precisely why I ran out of Bible study.

That story tomorrow.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Cracking Open the Nutcase (or trying anyways)

So, yesterday was okay. I started the day on the couch. The Walnut had a really low grade fever Saturday night so we felt it best to not take him to church. Since I was feeling a little under the weather in various ways, I gladly stayed home with him while everyone else went to church. Once the afternoon hit, I gradually got off the couch and actually did a few things. I’ve been painting a lot lately. There are things in our new house that don’t really reflect our personality as a family so I’m painting them. I do really love decorating although I wouldn’t say that I’m really great at it. And I’m quite slow at projects, but I eventually get them done. I told the Other Nut that if I can’t teach the Bible to women, I guess I’ll just paint. I even dug way back to my art painting days and painted a tree on the wall in my study. Of course, I’m not done with that project so I can’t show it yet, but I do have a purpose with the whole tree on the wall thing. I’m hoping for it to be a reminder to “grow where you’re planted”, something the whole Nutcase family needs to be reminded of lately. We’re all at different stages of this journey, some further than others. Some days, some of us want to grow and just blossom here; other days, we (and when I say “we”, I usually mean me) just want to shrivel up, wilt, and die a slow death. It is only by the grace of God that I usually find my way out of those days, finding a renewed sense of “I can do this” mentality. I must admit, though, those moments don’t last too long. I feel like a kid on one of those teeter totters going up and down, except there isn’t anyone on the other end. It’s just me, alone, going up and down, wanting so badly to get off of this sickening ride.

After some painting, I decided to go with the Other Nut to the grocery store to have a small date. Yes, he does all of the grocery shopping. If left up to me, we would all starve. I think I would rather pluck out my eyelashes that make a list, shop, put it all away, and then have to get it all back out to cook it. I just don’t understand why we can’t all just live on almonds, smoothies, and other things that don’t require cooking. Before we even got to the store, I was complaining about how boring shopping is. Needless to say, I have been fired from going to the grocery store with the Other Nut. Oh boy, I’m really sad about that! I teased him and told him he tortured me when in fact, I tortured him.
We made it home and because of daylight savings time, it felt and looked like 10 pm. It was only 6:45. Not my favorite feeling. We (read- the Other Nut) got everything put away, the kids got ready for bed, and then the Other Nut and I set about to piddle for a while on some projects.
And then my cell phone rang. I answered it and was so excited that it was someone from this city that I have met. She was calling to say hi and invite me to her Bible Study (good Bible Study story coming soon that will make you feel really good about yourself and make you wonder why my counselor ever thought I was healthy enough to be released.) Tim, just FYI-you could totally retire on my mental and emotional problems right now.
But I digress. Where was I? Oh yeah, I was on the phone making a complete fool of myself. Yep, I talked this poor lady’s ears off. I decided I needed to tell her all about my life over the last 4 months when I’m sure she had other things she needed to be doing. But it was so great to be called by someone here; that could possibly be a friend that I could have lunch or dinner with. Like I mentioned, I just want a friend that is here, present, in this city. And she called me! I didn’t have to try really hard to get over my insecurities and call someone. That just intimidates me for so many reasons. I’ll write on that soon-the whole concept of being the new girl.
So, I talked and talked and talked to this poor lady. To be known is a good feeling.

Until I hung up the phone.

I ended up feeling like such a fool, that I ended my night crying in my closet as I got ready for bed. The Other Nut held me until I fell asleep on the couch.
So that’s awesome. I started my day on the couch and ended my day on the couch. So much for cracking open my nutcase (yeah, I changed the whole saying to go with my blog theme. Hey, I’m just trying to be a good blogger lady). I think it just wrapped itself around even tighter as I cried in my closet about how stupid I probably sounded on the phone.

Not sure how successful yesterday was. I’m guessing probably not much.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

In Which I Claw My Way Back (Day 1)

Well, technically, it is day 2 so I guess I'm not off to a good start. But I do have a good reason; the Walnut came down with strep, and I woke with a head cold so blogging about feelings and life just didn't seem that fun.

In view of this already happening on day 1 (which is now day2), I think in the future I'll skip the whole day thing and just write. Plus, I'm not all that great with consistency in some things, blogging being one of them. Maybe by not thinking about the days, it will have some kind of reverse psychology effect (or is it affect? I never have gotten that one down) on me, and I'll actually write everyday.

So today? Well, considering the whole head cold thing, I slept quite a lot. My son on the other hand, being on antibiotics, was already bouncing off the walls. If you didn't know, you would have no idea the kid had strep which is a good thing.

I didn't really do any deep thinking or any great attempt at clawing my way back (or I guess to go along with my whole blog theme/name, I should be saying "cracking my nutcase open"-maybe I'll change it in the next post, as I'm sure any good blogger would tell me to do so), but I have done a lot of thinking since I've moved. We all know I have plenty of time.

What are some of these thoughts? Well, I'm so glad you asked, because now I can tell you.

One is quite simple-moving S.U.C.K.S. Yeah, that is kind of a bad word, and we don't let our kids use it, but I think moving deserves such a description. Now, some of you might not feel that way about moving; maybe you've moved more than you've stayed. Or you have at least moved enough to not have moving be that big of a deal, but I'm clearly not one of them.

In some ways, I get the sense that people around me think I should be over the whole moving thing by now. Some probably do, and some probably don't (although I don't think I've met too many of them). I mean it's not like I moved that far (I'm at least still in Texas), and it's not like I moved somewhere awful. Here, I have every single amenity you could want, and it is pretty; but, I don't have the amenities that make it feel like home and community. All of those are back in Houston.

Here's the deal. I've realized that not many people have moved under my circumstances, at least not recently. My parent's still live in the only house that I know-we moved in there when I was 2. I'm now 37. My sister still lives about 10 minutes from them. I lived at home until I got married. With the exception of the first semester of college, I didn't live outside of a 30 mile radius from my childhood home. A lot of people at least moved away for college.

Needless to say, moving for the first time at the age of 37 was a bit of a shock. Not to mention that we left some of the best friends you could have. I'm sure everyone feels that way about their friends, but we had some pretty deep roots; numerous families that were like 1 big family. The husbands got along; the wives got along; and the kids were all so close. With each family, age didn't matter between the kids (although there was generally always a kid close to the age of each other-our church had large families)-everyone got along. We even sat around the campfire and sang Kum Ba Ya. (kidding on the last one) But it was pretty close!

I guess that's all for tonight. Not anything about my day, but some beginning thoughts of what I have noticed about moving.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

I Spoke Too Fast

(Clarification of this post-I must clarify that the part about me missing my best friend's smell is a compliment; maybe weird on my part, but a compliment none the less. You see, smells are important to me. They invoke memories, good and bad, and so I love smells. I always have. Well, not necessarily bad smells which brings me to the reason for my clarification. My best friend doesn't smell in the bad sense smell. She has a good smell; from her laundry detergent to just to her regular smell. So what I'm saying is that, Beth, you don't stink :) Yeah, I know I'm weird, but that didn't need clarification. We are all fully aware of that.)

 Well, since my last post, all things were just peachy. Summer was in full swing, and all was good. And it really was, good I mean. I had a great revelation that I was missing so much joy and beauty around me. Our door was revolving as visitors from back home came and went.

But then summer ended, and with that, reality set back in. I took about 10 steps back and found myself depressed again. The weight of the loneliness and loss was suffocating. It still is. Commitments have been forgotten, and emails have gone unanswered. A lot of hard things are going on. Many of my dearest friends back home are going through some really tough things, and I'm stuck here. I can't be there for them, and they can't be here for me. I, of course, am speaking of physically being here or there. Sure, we can talk and write. And surely, we all know that prayers span the globe. But I am learning that there is something about the physical. I miss my friends' hugs, their tears they cried with me, and I miss just seeing them. (and yes, Beth, I still miss your smell-it was comforting) I realized that in great depth when I saw my sister, mom, and dad. As my sister crossed the ball field, I just started crying, because I was actually seeing her with my eyes, not just hearing her voice.

There is something about being present.

I remember the time, just recently, for the first time since moving that I asked somebody in person to pray for my sweet little Hazelnut. I had already emailed my family and friends back home to pray, knowing they would immediately start praying. But when I walked away from that person, it felt so good. I had to hold myself back, because I wanted to just ball my eyes out and hug her. I'm sure that wouldn't have gone over too well, as I already feel like I don't quite fit in here.

And that is a bit hard, because I want to be known, messiness and all.

Right now, I'm unknown. I don't know about you, but being unknown is lonely.

Oh, I know there is One that knows me fully. But to be honest, I'm a bit upset with Him. I'm pushing back a bit, even though I know He is who can fix my brokenness. But I am. It's just where I'm at.

So I figured I would try to claw my way back even though I don't really feel like it. Living in a hole right now feels much better. I have a lot of feelings and thoughts floating around in my head, many which aren't that great, that need to be written down. I figured I would start writing every evening about my day; my thoughts, my feelings, my attempts at clawing my way back, my failures. The writing at times might be raw, because, well, I feel raw. And I might not write every night since I'm trying (for migraine reasons and sleeping reasons) to not spend too much time on the computer-but I will try. We'll see how it goes.

Here's to clawing my way back.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Blogging, Smogging

Well, I guess since moving, I just haven't been that motivated to blog. I keep thinking that I will, and still the motivation is nowhere to be found. I haven't even really been reading that many blogs. I'm not sure if I will keep blogging or not. Or maybe I will just blog when I feel like it, which will probably be twice a year at this rate. I find this funny since blogging is a good way to keep my family updated since we moved by posting pictures and stuff, but it just seems to take too much energy.

When I first moved here, I was so depressed, and that lasted for about 4 1/2 months. I was just in a fog and didn't care about anything, especially blogging. I hated this city. I had a hard time focusing on anything and didn't want to do anything more than the basic necessities.

It wasn't until about 5-6 weeks ago that God snapped me out of my funk. Maybe I'll write about that later. Just don't hold your breath since I don't blog that much anymore-you might die from lack of oxygen. So now that I'm not depressed anymore, why am I not blogging? Well, I just don't want to. I have had so much living to catch up on with my family that blogging just has taken a back seat.

We have had some really sweet family time and all I want to do now is play. I haven't even wanted to organize my home that bad which is pretty good for this OCD person. It's not that I don't want it organized and decorated (we did after all just remodel our kitchen)-it's just that I realize it doesn't have to be done today. I just slowly work on it. I mean, there are still some days where I freak out and what it all done, but they are few and far between. The other days I'm too busy swimming, fishing, walking, or riding bikes. And we watch a lot of family movies now. This house is set up differently so we have a lot of nights where we eat dinner and watch a family movie (we have the whole great room set up where the kitchen and living room are kind of like one big room which I don't recommend if you have OCD like me). Anyways, I don't want to do this with every meal, because then you don't talk about some things, but it has been nice. I would say that in the 6 months since we have moved, we have spent more time as a family than ever before. I guess that's what happens when you don't know anyone. I would say we are closer now, all of us. My oldest is a teenager now which is weird, but I have thoroughly enjoyed having one. It has been fun watching my kids grow up.

So, this is good. This move is good. Maybe I'll blog more, maybe not. And obviously when I do blog, it's just a bunch of rambling, but oh well. My brain just doesn't think as much lately. Unless I'm playing. And with that, I'll quit rambling.

Friday, June 15, 2012


Well, I changed my blog. I figured it was fitting with all of the changes going on in my life right now. I started changing it, because it felt too cluttered to me. It's funny-I'm searching for things to be simple, clean, free of clutter right now, because there are so many things that are cluttered. My house is still no where near where I want it in terms of organization and effeciency which, in turn, makes my mind feel cluttered. It's so bad now, my need for organization, that my van is even clean. If you personally know me and have ridden in my van, you know my van and clean don't go together. It's like oil and water. And yet, I have kept it clean for about 3 weeks now after having it detailed.

So I decided I needed something else clean too so I chose my blog. I started out with just a plain white background and just one other color, although that one color changed quite a bit in the course of the day. But the white felt so good and clean. I know, weird right? Everything felt cluttered on it. I almost just wiped it all clean, leaving just a title and the posts, but I refrained. I figured I would regret it later when I got my house organized (although I wonder if that will ever happen).

However, I'm drawn to color, mixed in among white so I found myself putting a background back on. Some of you reading this, mom, will be quite perplexed by my choice. I know, I know-it's in the red family, and we all know how much I just love red. I love it so much that was the first thing that had to go in my new house-the red bathroom which is now painted quite a lovely shade of soft gray. When we finished painting, it was almost as if the bathroom itself sung a chorus of thanks for it's new found brightness.

(Note: this section of explanation is solely intended for my mom and Beth, as they both are probably scratching their heads and ready to call the crazy control people due to my choice of color, because surely I've gone crazy.) And here I went choosing a background that kind of looks red. But, if you look real close, you can see it has slight pink undertones which fits a little bit better with my taste. I kept going back to it, loving it, but refusing to put it on my blog simply because it was, well, kind of red. And have I mentioned that I don't do red-even at Christmas time except for the homemade Christmas ornaments my kids have made. Putting this background on my blog felt like I was doing something illegal. But I went for it anyway. Besides, the color reminds me of a vintage shade of red and summer picnics.

So, I don't know if my blog looks cleaner, less cluttered, but I feel like it does so that's all that matters. And I know you can't really read the print I chose for most of the blog, but I liked it so I put it on here anyway. I'm sure I'll change it eventually.

Now, if I could just remember how I made my button and get it to match the new color scheme!

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

You Know It's Been A While and No Panties

You know it's been a while when you log onto your blog, and you don't even know how to get to "new post" when the format has changed. And you know it's been a while when you log onto your blog, and you didn't even know the format has changed! I hope this works.

Thank you to all who have left sweet comments and have emailed to check on me. Please know that my lack of response is not personal, but rather due to the fact that I have very little emotional and physical energy at times. Even reading is a chore right now.

Let me just say-moving is H.A.R.D!

Well, for me anyways. For some of you, moving might be easy, especially if you have done it multiple times. But my parents still live in the only house that I know, in a city that I lived for 37 years. I know I keep saying that I am going to do some blogging about moving, but then I just get too tired, physically and emotionally. For the shortened version of my health story, the stress and clutter has made my body not so happy at times as it has flared some diseases that have decided living in my body was a good idea. Some days are great. Some days are not so great, as in "I'm so exhausted and sore, I can't really move much."

Today is/was such a day. I made myself get out of the house though and just sit and read and blog. But I will tell you that at first I thought maybe it wasn't such a great idea as I stopped at a GREEN light. But alas, I persevered and made it to my destination without causing a wreck. And I'm glad (as I'm sure many others are that were driving around me), because I feel better physically. I feel like I can actually walk without feeling utter exhaustion set it.

I know this post will be long which apparently goes against blogging rules, but I'm feeling rebellious right now. Plus, it's my blog anyways, and I have a lot to say. Writing seems to be good for my mental status. I wonder why I haven't done much of it since the move since it seems to help.

Why do we do that to ourselves? Not do something that we know helps us?

Anyways, I thought I would start off my posts about this moving thing with a bang. Now if you don't like TMI stories, or reading about other people's undergarments (or lack thereof in my case), you might want to stop reading and wait for the next post. If you are feeling wild and risky, keep reading.

This story actually involves the Walnut's accident when we first moved, you know when he fell, knocked himself out and got a concussion. By telling this story, I don't mean to make light of what happened. It was a very scary 2 days, but if I don't find this one aspect of it funny, then I will find myself only thinking of the fear of that situation-and for me, that wouldn't be good.

So the Monday the movers showed up, I asked my children if they had remembered to pack themselves some clothes since their clothes would be packed in a box until Wednesday night. And in typical mommy fashion, I had reminded them to especially not forget to pack some clean underwear. Monday, they all assured me that they had packed whatever they needed so I just let the packers go about their business until the Other Nut asked me if I had packed myself some clothes. Panic quickly gripped me as I realized that the movers were in my bathroom with what appeared to be clothes boxes.

As I ran casually walked to my bathroom, sure enough every drawer full of my undergarments were packed, taped, marked off and sealed. This was a problem as I wasn't about to say "excuse me, I forgot to pack me some panties and bras. Could you kindly tell me which box you just packed them in?" And I couldn't just go and open the box myself, because 1). there was no box marked "Panties/Bras/Undergarments" and 2). since the move was insured my the company, I couldn't reopen the box without them knowing.

I quickly packed me some clothes just as he was about to pack up my closet and just figured I would run to the ol' Walmart down the road and buy me some nice new undergarments later. Well, moving is a little hectic so when Monday night came and went, I was still clean pantiless (is that a word?). Tuesday rolled around, the movers showed up again, continued their packing, and I still had very good intentions of running to Walmart. But, again, moving is hectic, and the Other Nut and the Walnut were actually leaving around dinner time with the movers, we had a lot of visitors saying their good byes, and well, time just got away from me.

When everyone had left, I did a little cleaning and headed to my parents for the night. I was completely exhausted, a little numb at the fact that I was really moving, and actually forgot that I was, by this time, wearing the same panties and bras since Monday morning (it was Tuesday evening).

I stayed up late in the night talking with my mom and then fell into bed exhausted. Wednesday morning arrived, I said good bye to my parents as they left for work, cried my eyeballs out, and headed back to my house for one last clean up and walk through. How I still forgot to stop at Walmart still beats me, but I did. I got to the house to start the cleaning, but that took a little longer than expected, because I did a lot more visiting with friends and neighbors than I did cleaning. By the time I got done, locked the door for the last time, cried my eyeballs out again, got all 3 dogs in the car, picked up my girls from a friend's house, cried my eyeballs out some more, I was just ready to get on the road and finish the inevitable. It was 3:30 p.m., and I had a 6 hour drive ahead of me with 2 kids and 3 dogs.

So, yeah, a stop at Walmart was out of the picture. I even remembered that I was still wearing the same undergarments since Monday morning, but I didn't care a lick about it. I was too busy crying all the way up 45 barely able to see the road. Who needs clean panties at a time like that?!

I pulled up to my new home in a strange city around 9:45 p.m. After saying I to the Other Nut and the Walnut, and the girls saw their rooms, everyone got ready for bed. By the time I started getting ready for bed, it was about 11 p.m. I was so tired, but I also desperately needed a shower (I hadn't bathed since Monday morning either-like a said, moving is a bit hectic). I took a shower, got out, and realized that I had NO IDEA which of the 50 boxes in my bedroom held my much needed clean undergarments-remember there was no box marked "panties". All I had was some clothes hanging in my closet and one pair of pajamas. I figured I had 3 options-1) look through a lot of boxes at midnight to find my undergarments 2) put back on the already 3 day old undergarments that probably just needed to be thrown away by now 3) just put on my pajamas "commando style" and find the box in the morning. I would have plenty of time in the morning right?

I don't know what choice you would have made, but I went choice #3. Who hasn't gone commando style before? If you haven't, you are probably lying. 

So the morning rolls around, we start going through boxes, get a little busy doing some things, look through more boxes (still can't find them), but no panic yet. I'm just at home in my really thin, light blue pajamas, but I'm home. Who would see me?

Well, apparently all of Dallas since around 11:30, the Walnut fell and about 3 minutes later, my house was full of EMTs, 1 neighbor, and 1 police chief. And me, in my thin pajamas, commando style. Oh, and no bra either.

Now, when your child is in the middle of an emergency like that, you don't normally care what you look like. And I didn't, but I did have this fleeting thought-"Oh my goodness, I have no panties or bra on with really thin pajamas!" And I knew we were going straight to the ER. This wasn't a "I think he is fine. I don't think you need to take him in." No, this was "we're taking him in and all the way into the trauma center in downtown Dallas."

I did the only thing I could think of doing-I grabbed the longest jacket I had available, threw on my flip flops, and jumped into the passenger seat of the ambulance. And then I spent the rest of the day terribly worried about my son, and a little worried that people around me could tell my little secret.

We finally got home around 10 p.m. that night with our precious little son who was going to be OK. After we got him settled in for the night, can anyone guess what I did?

Decided panties were totally overrated and went straight to bed. KIDDING?

Actually, I had to hurry to an urgent care clinic before they closed and get my broken finger taken care of. (I broke it when I fell running for the phone, dodging boxes when I needed to call 911 for the Walnut) Then when I got home (around midnight), I dug through every stinking box in that bedroom until I found me some clean panties and bras.

And it's a good thing I did, because we were right back in the ER with the little Walnut the next morning as his headache grew worse, and he was a lot of pain.

But that time I was a fully clothed, somewhat functioning adult.

Welcome to the new city! I walked around for 3 weeks with a splint on my right middle finger looking like I was flipping off everyone I saw; but I must say, that's pretty much how I felt.

The end!

p.s. The moral of the story-if you are moving, don't forget to pack you some panties!

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

The Where's and the Why's

I'm lonely here in the new city. I guess that is to be expected, but I didn't really know how it would feel-I've never moved away before. It's a different kind of loneliness. It is one that says "you have no friends here". And I actually do like my alone time-a lot in fact. But when you have no choice, because you can't call someone to meet for lunch, a different feeling sets in. I really miss my friends and family, but when you have such wonderful friends and family like I do, am I really surprised?

I feel lost, almost like I don't know what to do with myself. And I'm so blah that really I probably shouldn't be blogging, because I will probably just sound like I'm whining; but I'm going against my better judgment (because I don't have any "better judgment" right now anyways) and blogging.

Oh yeah, I almost forget why I even started this post (because of the whining). I was going to explain the where's and why's of my blogging sabbatical. Well, it all started with a class. You see, I had signed up to take a seminary class (something I had wanted to do for a long time), and then I started feeling like the Other Nut didn't really support me like I thought he did. Taking a class with 3 kids was definitely going to take the support of the whole family and so I dropped the class. And the dropping of the class, I realized how mad I was at the Other Nut-he was standing in the way of my dream. And my anger with him scared me. How could I be a good Bible teacher and hold such anger towards my husband if I felt he got in my way?

I immediately began to look at everything I was doing, blogging being one of them. I wanted my blog to be our story, not just mine, and he had started writing some posts from his perspective. But I was also spending a lot of time on my blog at night instead of with him. These two things combined just made me stop and pull back. I felt like I just needed to be willing to give it up without getting so angry at the Other Nut. So I just released it and didn't even really read other blogs. I went on a major blogging fast if you will.

And then life threw a curve ball, and I didn't even have time to blog or read. Right after this, I even began to feel like God wanted me to even stop teaching to our women at church. This one I couldn't understand at all. This was my one passion and why I wanted to take classes. I was (and still am) truly confused, but then it all became clear to me when I realized we were moving. And if you have ever moved, especially in the middle of the school year with 3 kids, you know that life becomes crazy during this time. All of my time was devoted to the whole animal called moving. I'm still waiting for this animal to take a hike.

Now during this time, I blocked my blog for a while. No one could get to it. I wasn't blogging anyways so I figured "why not". But the real reason was that something had happened that made the Other Nut and I feel like we had to look over our shoulder everyday. It was a strange feeling. I'm sure the stress of moving didn't help. I began to feel like I had this great need to protect my privacy and family,and I didn't want anything available to the public. I'm sure it was slightly irrational, but like I said, I wasn't blogging anyways, so I just turned it off. Things have blown over with this situation, and we don't live in the same city anyways so I figured it was safe to blog again-well unless I keep blogging under my current emotional and mental conditions (and since I don't see them completely changing immediately, blogging might be dangerous).

Well, there you have it-the fascinating where's and why's. I'll close for now, but I'll post again about the whole moving to a new city thing. And I'll try not to sound whiny, try being the operative word.  

Friday, February 10, 2012

prayer needed

please pray for my son aidan. he hit his head and has a concussion. we are in our new city so we don't know anyone right here. he is doing OK but please keep praying that there will be no more problems. also in the process of running for the phone i slipped and broke my finger. please pray for peace and healing. we are scared and feel alone here. i'm ready to go back home.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

So It's Been A While

So it's been a while-almost 6 months in fact. I actually wondered if I forgot how to post something. I will probably start blogging again, although not sure how frequently as many changes are happening in my life. I want to start blogging again as I think I need it, especially right now. I do miss the blogging friends I had made while I was blogging regularly. I will eventually write about why I stepped back from blogging, but for now I would greatly appreciate your prayers

because in 6 days we are moving.

I am moving from a city I have known for 37 years where all of my family and dearest of friends are to a city where I know not a soul. I feel all sorts of emotions, but some of them I haven't let myself feel fully. I'm afraid I won't be able to breathe. It all seems so surreal, and as the days count down, the weight is heavy. There are so many unknowns, and at times, I feel like a stranger in my own skin.

The Other Nut has already been living there for 3 months. He has been coming home on the weekends which is nice, but it's getting old. It isn't the best marriage builder in the world that's for sure. I don't want to give the wrong impression with that statement-we are doing fine and looking forward to being a family again. It's just that recently I have realized that we aren't as connected. I kind of feel like I don't know him as well right now which I think is normal because of the distance. He's doing his thing up there during the week, while I'm trying to do mine here. We haven't had any dates for a while and talking on the phone just isn't the same. Plus, I think we both feel so disjointed, like we are living a dream that we are just treading water right now. This process of moving has been so busy with many ups and downs that I think we are just so ready for it to be over. And yet, at the same time, we don't want it to end, because that means separation from so many people that we love so dearly. It's a strange place to be. There will be more blogging about this process, this total change in our lives, as I have so many feelings and thoughts about this journey.

But for now, I ask for prayers. Our roots run deep here.

Many blessings,


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