Ride the Wave

I'm starting to dread writing this blog.  I feel like I am running out of things to say or I keep saying the same thing.  I have to remind myself I don't write this for myself.  If I wrote for myself I wouldn't write on the blog, I would write on a piece of paper.  I wouldn't think about what might be hurting you and dragging you down.  I wouldn't think about what might encourage you.  I would only think about what is in my own life and write things that would free me.

Here I am, writing this even though I don't feel like it, hoping you will be encouraged.  Maybe you'll be encouraged by the fact that I'm doing something I don't feel like doing. 

I spent most of the past week being sick.  It was mostly a cold except for the on and off fever I had on Christmas Eve.  I didn't want to talk about it.  I just wanted to quietly feel bad and I knew eventually I would feel better.  I kept waiting each day to feel better, then I didn't.  Some days I did what was on my schedule because I was tired of waiting to feel better, but most days I rested and waited for my health to return.

On Christmas Eve I exercised.  I didn't feel great, but I didn't know when I would feel better so I took the opportunity to exercise while I could.  Within a few hours, I was sweating and shivering with a fever.  It took 5 days to feel well enough to exercise again.  I started getting tired of feeling badly.  I had plans for my break.  My plans weren't to lie on the couch.  So often our plans are interrupted or changed.  How do we handle it?  How do we adapt?  Do we accept the change or do we fight it and complain about it?

We are on the cusp of another change.  The new year begins soon.  Will the change bring anxiety and frustration or will it bring promise and hope?  Sometimes I think it would be better for us if we were like the albatross I have seen on the Oregon Coast.  They sit out on the waves and let the ocean move them freely.  They aren't frantically paddling away from or into the waves.  They enjoy the ride however it comes.

As that next surprise comes sneaking up behind you try to sit back and relax.  Try to enjoy the wave even if it is big and scary, it can also be exciting.  Find the beauty in the water and the scenery.  Find peace even in the midst of chaos.

Now you can see why I write.  I don't feel anything important or valuable, but as I type, the words you need to hear come flowing out of my finger tips.  Whatever the week brings, ride the wave.

All I Want for Christmas

Over the past few weeks we have been listening to a lot of Christmas music.  The older songs lyrics focus on coming home for Christmas, being with the family and, of course, white Christmases.

I haven't been "home" to where the rest of my family lives for Christmas since my daughter was born 17 years ago.  I went one year in December to try and get there close to Christmas.  Many years driving the trip over the mountain pass and risking snow was not wise.  Other years I couldn't afford a plane ticket.  Ultimately, neither of those reasons were the main reason we didn't travel.  I wasn't willing to drag my children from house to house during Christmas.  I wanted them to wake up in their beds, have a peaceful and calm day and to cherish the moments we have together.

Not everyone agrees with my decision.  My decision isn't right for everyone, but it has been right for us.  We have spent all our our children's Christmases in our home.  Each Christmas has been precious, special, peaceful and full of love.

As I hear those songs, I have two thoughts.  Is it required that we return home on Christmas?  Who is our family? 

Of course it is not required.  I choose to be with the family that lives here with me.  I love my family that lives far away and it is wonderful they can get together with each other.  I will visit another day.  On Christmas I will be home with my family.

I've been thinking about family.  Technically, family are the people we share DNA with.  I don't think that is what we mean when we say "family."  When we talk about our families we talk about people we can depend on, people who accept us for who we are and have no expectations from us.  Sometimes the two different definitions of family are met on the same person, sometimes they are not.

If you are blessed to be welcomed unconditionally into your DNA-sharing family's arms, celebrate!  If they know all about you and accept you anyway, if they let you make mistakes, celebrate your achievements and stand by your side no matter what, you are blessed. 

If you have found your family in the form of a friend who doesn't share your DNA, it is okay.  It is okay to spend time with people who treasure you the way you treasure them.  It is okay to give your energy to people who see your true colors and wouldn't change a thing.

I am blessed to have a little of both of these families.  I am blessed to have found people who accept all of me for who I am and don't try to change me.  They may call me on my crap, but they accept it at the same time.

We can't change our DNA-families.  We aren't always blessed to find non-DNA families.  We do have the power to be family to others.  We have the ability to love unconditionally and accept without expectations. 

This holiday season I know we are all thankful for the blessings and gifts we have been given.  We are especially thankful for the people that walk by our side and help us along on our journeys.  Take some extra time to love on those around you.  It is all we are asked to do and it is all any of us really wants for Christmas.

Snail slow

It is mentally straining to travel down the treacherous and difficult parts of our journey.  As I look back at some of my difficult journeys I can see small gifts God gave me during that time to make things easier.

I remember reading the story of Job and all the treacherous things that happened to him.  Through it all, God was there.  He wasn't causing the loss, He was there protecting Job, making sure Job wouldn't break, knowing what his faith could handle. 

I was thankful I had my cancer treatment in the winter.  I wasn't able to wear a bra or shave my arm pits for almost 2 months.  It's much easier to hide large breasts under bulky sweaters and sweatshirts than small summer shirts.  I also didn't have to worry about anybody staring at my harry armpits.  These things aren't extremely important, but they were things for me to be thankful for. My girls went to school with their dad during that time and were completely taken care of while I ran around to my appointments and treatments. 

I was diagnosed with MS during one of my best teaching years.  I had sweet students who worked hard all the time.  They were thoughtful and patient.  Being a little less present didn't cause a hardship at my job.  I also had a considerate boss at the time who adamantly forced me to go home when he could see I wasn't feeling well.  He never made me feel bad for taking a sick day or leaving my class.  I've had very few bosses encourage me to take care of myself they way he did.  I had also just started my master's degree a few months earlier.  During my diagnosis, I happened to be taking the easiest class on my list.  During the first month after my diagnosis I wasn't able to move my left arm or hand normally.  It wasn't getting the message from my brain soon enough.  I often dropped things because I had to think about the fact I was holding them.  If, for a second, I thought about something else like walking, I would drop what I was holding.  I couldn't type with both hands.  Writing papers for my class took much longer when trying to type the word "the" meant waiting for my left hand to find the t and e.  If I had a more difficult class, I may have had to drop the class or I would have fallen behind.

As I lived in the recliner last year awaiting back surgery, I could only think of how thankful I was to be living in our new house.  In our old house with 3 levels, I would have had to rearrange the furniture in order to be on the same floor with the kitchen, bathroom and the recliner.  I would have been stranded in one part of my house away from my family.  Our old house was also mostly heated by a wood stove.  We had propane heat which we tried to avoid using due to its cost.  Each morning, we chopped kindling, stuffed the two stoves with paper, start a fire and repeatedly bring in wood to feed the fires all day.  While trapped in my recliner, I would not have been able to do any of that.  The fire would have gone out and I would have been cold or been forced to run the expensive propane heat.  In our new house, all our rooms were on the same floor and I can start the heat by pushing a button.  In addition to it being easier to function, I was blessed to have a friend and walking partner down the street.  I wasn't going to avoid back surgery, I tried, but I could be thankful for the timing of it. 

Whatever the bump in the road, the steepness of the cliff, or the difficulty up ahead, there is usually something to be thankful for.  There is something that could be worse.  There is something that is easier because Someone is watching over you.

I'm not telling you to think positive or look for the silver lining.  The middle of these moments is horrible and sometimes all I can think about is how much it sucks, but it helps my sanity to notice the mini blessings.  It helps me to think about how it could be worse and I am forever thankful it isn't.

I keep talking about this because I can't get over how nice it is to be able to do almost whatever I want right now.  I don't have the extensive limitations on me I had a year ago.  I don't have to say no to everything.  I remember how difficult it was, but I also remember how it could have been more difficult and I made it through.  One step at a time, keeping my mind clear and in reality, and looking toward what I could do and what I was thankful for helped me keep moving through each slow and laborious step.  And my steps were very slow a year ago. I know all about slow, but I just kept moving and I'm not so slow anymore.

What are you looking at?

Last week I celebrated my 42nd birthday.  I don't have a problem with my age increasing each year.  It is a number.  My age doesn't define what I can or can't do and it definitely doesn't define who I am.

Last year, on my birthday, I was recovering from back surgery and feeling ill all over from the  medication I took for almost a month to numb the searing pain in my leg. 

This year I was busy, but I was thankful.  I was able to go to work.  I wasn't left on the couch.  I was able to go to my daughter's orchestra concert, which I missed last year.  I went out to dinner with my family, successfully sitting at the table the entire time. 

Whether your day is good or bad is determined primarily by your perspective. 

Last year, while recovering and feeling sick, I was thankful the pain was finally gone.  Prior to back surgery, I had debilitating pain down the entire length of my right leg.  It was as if my leg was on fire and shot needles throughout each of my muscles every time I moved.  So, last year on my birthday, even though I was uncomfortable, I was thankful the pain was finally gone.  I knew I would eventually get stronger and my stomach pain would eventually subside. 

This year I was incredibly busy doing normal daily tasks, but I couldn't have been happier.  I could walk freely without limitations.  I could go to work.

Perspective is essential.  Remembering where we have come from on the most difficult days can help us take another step.  Knowing that most moments in our lives are seasons which will eventually pass can help us endure.

Today might suck, but tomorrow could be amazing.  This year may have been the most difficult, but how many small blessings were hidden in the hardships? This week may have been too busy, but next week may be full of rest.

One year there isn't enough money and you find joy in the simple pleasures.  The next year, you are amazed at how you are able to bless others because the money isn't quite so tight.

The first 10 years we were married were lean.  I made as many things as I could.  I bought the cheapest food.  I kept life simple.  It was difficult on the days I had to decide which bill to pay first in the hopes more money would come in for the other bills.  I was thankful for each tiny blessing.  I looked forward to the day when I didn't have to say no because I couldn't afford it or I didn't have to choose what I would go without. 

We don't experience those lean years anymore, but the lessons and values I learned from that time are something I would never trade.  I've had difficult jobs, but they have taught me values and I was always thankful for better jobs when they came along.

It's all about how we look at our lives, how we view our past and what we hope for in our future. 

What is good and beautiful today?
What are you blessed with today?
What is making you stronger?
What do you hope for?
What are you looking at?

December

December is here! 

There are many things I enjoy about the year.  I enjoy each of the seasons: the flowers in the spring, the summer fun, and the leaves in the fall.  But there is something special about December, not about winter, but December. 

December invites change.  We put up a Christmas tree and add extra lights and decorations around our house which spend 11 months out of the year in boxes.  We listen to music about family and togetherness and love.  We drink hot drinks by a cozy fire.  We stop a bit more, play games a bit more and choose us a bit more. 

Sometimes it snows.  The white blanket and flying flakes are my favorite.  They bring silence and peace.  The white flyers disguise anything attempting to bring chaos.  They are in no hurry to land, unlike raindrops which rush to the ground.  They will let the wind push them along, not fighting, but floating and settling wherever they are laid.

I am reminded how important it is to maintain our values during this time.  We still have to choose what makes us strong.  We still have to choose what gives us peace.  We still have to choose what identifies us and determines our next step. 

Enjoy each moment of each day.  This season, this month, is not about the number of things you can accomplish.  It isn't about the number of things you can buy or the number of events you attend.  It is about family and peace and love like every other day of the year. 

I love December because it often looks different than other times of the year.  The snow in January never quite feels or looks like the snow in December.  I love December because we change things around us for a moment and get a different vantage point on our lives.  I love December because it is different and for a moment, everyone welcomes the difference and celebrates together.

Whispers

One of the battles I deal with daily is wondering what people are saying about me.  I know about the phrase that people probably aren't saying anything at all.  I wonder, when people treat me differently, if they are having conversations about my decisions behind my back.  I wonder, when people's actions change, what has been said while I'm not around.  When they talk about others behind their backs, I know there is a chance they talk about me.

I am not innocent of this.  I've been working hard to tell people what I am thinking and ask them questions about what is going on in their lives rather than make assumptions.  I try to be upfront and honest, but fear of other's responses, caution to not overstep, and my own shyness often cause me to hold my tongue.  It is important that if I choose to hold my tongue I don't loose it later when that person is no longer around.

I believe strongly that my actions and my true character will ultimately defend me from those who speak untrue things about me.  I believe, as they share those negative words, the listeners will think about who they know me to be and decide for themselves, based on evidence, whether those words are true or not and not simply believe because it is easy.

As I stand firm in my position and work to have a true and good character no matter what anyone says, I still find myself fearing people are talking about me behind my back.  I fear they are sharing one-sided stories without considering my side.

I remember feeling this way when I was sick.  It didn't matter if I had cancer or a fresh MS diagnosis, people often looked shocked I didn't look worse.  Their surprised, "You look good!"  implied I wasn't really that sick since I didn't look sick.  People forget we want to put on our best face.  I will feel horrible and relax my smile when I am alone.  When I am with you I will put on a positive and strong face.

My family has been through a number of difficult moments ranging the entire gamut of problems.  Each time we overcame a new difficulty, we made decisions about our lives that made sense for us in our season.  Our decisions may not have made sense to anyone else.  Others may have looked at us and thought we were making a large mistake or a poor decision or we would regret our actions.  Honestly, during all those situations there were very few people who told us any of those things.  I know they thought it, but no one said a word.   First, if people share their doubts, we are given an opportunity to explain ourselves.  Our explanation may remove other's doubts or we may stop and think about our decision and be certain it is wise.

We bought a house after only being married for 3 years, with one teacher income to support us.  No one told us our decision might not be completely wise. 

We sold everything we could and prepared to move to Canada to start a church.  We made it 40 miles down the road and bought another house instead.  A few people supported us completely.  The rest didn't speak, in fact, they stopped speaking to us altogether.  We learned who our true friends were. 

We started going to CrossFit.  Plenty of people gave us the stink-eye about that.  We stopped attending a physical church.  I still have people who judge us about that, but they've never asked why.

We had a list of reasons for all these decisions.  We talked about it, we prayed about it.  Today, there are people who whispered behind our backs for each of these decisions.  There are others who stayed by our side and supported us because they cared about us no matter what decisions we were in the middle of making.

What is my point?

You can't keep people from talking about you.  You can stop people from gossiping about your life and your decisions.  You can't affect change on those who stand by and doubt and question your actions.  But you can be the person who doesn't do these things.

You can be the person who doesn't entertain judgments about other people.  You can be the person who looks to your neighbors character above everything else.  You can be honest and real in the face of doubt and pretense.  You can stand tall whenever you feel others are trying to knock you down.

We just celebrated Thanksgiving.  Daily, I was thankful I could walk, cook dinner, play games and participate with my family and friends, all things I couldn't do a year ago.  I am thankful for the special people I shared the day with.  I'm thankful for the blessings I couldn't count because they are too numerous.  I am also thankful for the people in my life that are real, honest and accepting of me and all my imperfections.  I don't pretend to be perfect or have it all together.  I hope I never sound like I am.  I have plenty of doubts, fears and questions.  I try to be honest with you, it is something I am daily working on improving.

I fear what certain readers will think or say.  I fear people will stop reading.  I fear people will look at me differently or treat me differently because I tried to be a little more honest.

I hope you can see beyond each other's facade.  I hope you can see the real person buried underneath and work to encourage that person to come out.  Let them know it is safe to be themselves.  You won't judge them or talk about them.  You will talk to them and stand by their side.

Money Plant

We have quite a few plants in our house.  We used to have about 5 Heartleaf Philodendrons.  We were free to ignore them until they began to wilt and whither.  Those wilting leaves told me it was time to water them and they would graciously come back to life.   We  tried to send them to my husband's classroom and they ended up freezing in the car.  

After some research confirmed the health benefits of having certain plants in your house to take up the toxins in the air we bought some new plants.  These ones weren't as forgiving as the Heartleaf Philodendrons.  They required good light and regular water.  

We've been living in our house for over a year now.  We have two Money Trees, a Peace Lily, a Palm and a Snake Plant.  It has only been the last 4 months that these plants began to thrive.  We finally found the optimal place for them where they got the exact amount of light they needed and discovered the right amount of water.  We set a day to water so we wouldn't forget.   

These plants have grown 3 times their original size and haven't shown any signs of stopping.  

We gave them light from the beginning, but until it was the amount of light they needed, they struggled to grow.  We gave them water, but until we gave them enough water so they never felt lacking, they became healthy for moments, then weak. 

Those plants are a reminder to seek out our optimal environments for our growth.  We want to do more than survive.  We want to do more than thrive one day and struggle to stand the next.  We want to grow to our fullest potential and have our greatest strength.

I'm still looking for that optimal environment.  I found it this summer.  I spent every moment of every day making choices that benefited my health.  Once school started and I began teaching again, I tried to stay healthy and make healthy choices, but my environment didn't always let me.  By the 3rd week in September I had a bad cold that lingered for 3 weeks.  I've noticed I gain weight throughout the week and lose it on the weekend.  The only factor that is different between weekdays and weekends is my job.  

I love my job.  I'm good at my job, but it is exhausting.  I've described it as running uphill on a treadmill at too fast a speed for 8 hours straight.  My mind and body don't get a break throughout the school day.  I'm doing everything in my power to educate 29 seven and eight year-olds, to motivate them to do all the things they don't want to do, to encourage them to work hard when all they want to do is nothing.  I have to know what I'm teaching, see all they are doing and motivate and engage them at the same time.  Many people find it exhausting to do these things with one child, I do it with 29 each day.

On top of the normal exhaustion that comes with teaching, I have MS.  As much as I'd like to ignore my MS and pretend I am capable of all I was capable of before, none of that is true.  By Wednesday, if I haven't managed my energy, I feel the weight of 10 semis on my shoulders.  My face is tired of talking and my brain struggles to find words.  I move slowly through my evening like I have spent 12 hours doing hard labor.  

So how do I find my optimal light and water so I can grow like my plants?  I don't know.  I'm still trying to find it. I give my students more responsibility so they work harder than me.  I try not to do unnecessary tasks.  I give my self flexible deadlines.  I let myself sit.  I go to bed as early as I need to.  I keep exercising.  I keep eating good food except that moment when all I want is chocolate and  no amount will satisfy me. 

Try to find the right light and water so you will grow and be strong and shine, but if you struggle, enjoy the moments when you thrive.  Keep track of what works and keep trying.  A dried out leaf signifies you need something more, not that you are dying.  

Look Behind You

This past week I kept remembering my situation a year ago. 

One year ago I had a herniated disc.  This disc was putting pressure on my sciatic nerve.  My sciatic nerve was firing so intensely I couldn't walk, stand or sit without tear-inducing pain.  I had to take a 6 week leave from teaching while I waited for my surgery date then spent 3 weeks recovering from surgery.   I was forced to spend my days in a recliner or lying on the floor in order to get any relief from the pain. 

Today I have none of these limitations.  I can do my job.  I can walk, even run.  I can freely exercise and function like a normal human being.  I remember that season a year ago.  I remember how painful and difficult it was.  I also remember I spent much of the time knowing my pain would end.  The pain, the immobility, and the limitations wouldn't last forever.  I kept telling myself this was only a season as I spent each day watching every possible show on Netflix.

Today, many of you are in pain.  Some pain is emotional, some physical, some spiritual.  Some of you have a date when the pain is scheduled to end or ease up, but most of you don't know when the pain will end.  You may be in a season, but no one has marked on the calendar when your season will end.  You can't see the end, you can only see where you are today and it hurts. 

I want to encourage you to keep moving.  When you can, look back at the journey you have already passed.  Look at the mountain you climbed.  Remember how steep and difficult it was, you made it.  Look at the mire you trudged through.  It was dirty, slow and you felt you might be stuck there indefinitely, but you made it through.  Remember that river.  It was cold and swift.  You had no choice but to swim across it.  Sometimes you felt strong, sometimes you were simply treading water and weren't moving forward at all, but you are here looking back on it now.  The sun glistens off the water taking away the feeling of dread you had when you were standing on its shores.  Remember the time you lost the trail.  You spent weeks walking in circles.  You had to climb over rocks and crawl under stumps.  You can clearly see the trail from here, but then, you felt lost and alone. 

No matter how difficult the journey looks right now, remember what you have already overcome.  Since those difficult parts of the journey are now behind you, they don't look as terrible and you now know you were strong enough to continue through them.  Gather your strength for the journey ahead from your victories from the journey you have left behind.  You are strong.  You are resourceful.  You are amazing.  I know this is difficult and scary.  I know you feel overwhelmed and defeated.  In those moments, take a moment to look behind you.  Let your past victories give you strength and hope and courage to keep walking.

A year ago I went through one of the most painful periods in my life.  I was suddenly forced to stop doing everything that defined my life.  I had to give up my classroom of second graders to someone else.  I had to give up the care of my home.  I couldn't even completely care for myself.  I was dependent on those around me while I waited for this difficult part of my journey to end.  I am thankful I can look back on that time and rejoice at all I can do today.  I am thankful I have almost fully retained my strength and mobility.  There are brief moments when I feel a hint of pain to remind me of what I have overcome.  It brings me back to my path and reminds me of the victories I have left behind.

New Normals

Normal is a difficult word.  It implies there is something typical and anything deterring from the typical is abnormal and perhaps not okay.

Numerous events in our lives bring us new normals: a marriage, a baby, a new home, a new job are a few of life's obstacles which will inevitably turn our expected schedules upside down.  We tend to adjust to these changes willingly, in part, because we often have a choice in them.  We say yes to the marriage, we plan for the baby, we pack up and move our belongings to the new home and we apply for the new job.

However, when the new normals are thrust upon us without our consent, we fight them a bit more. When disease sneaks into our lives or loved ones breathe their last and leave us, we morn.  These aren't situations we asked for.  We fight these moments or question them or both.

I am continually having conversations with myself about my new state of normal.  It has changed multiple times over the past 20 years.  The past 6 years have brought more health changes than I thought I would have to deal with in a lifetime.  I try to tell myself it is okay that I have less energy.  It is okay I can't accomplish the number of tasks I used to be able to accomplish.  It is okay I can't eat whatever I want.  It is okay I must exercise in order to have energy.  It is okay I must take rest days in order to function highly all the other days.  I try to remind myself not to get weary in the battle and not to be down on myself if I need to sink into a chair for a moment.

The culture I grew up with was one where you work.  You take care of the people and possessions around you no matter how you feel.  You don't sit and read a book for hours or watch a series of television shows in one sitting.  You pick up a broom and sweep the floor.  You work and are productive all the time.  It didn't take long for me to realize I couldn't maintain this lifestyle.  It also wasn't healthy.  It is healthy to take breaks and find peace.  It is healthy to say "no."  It is healthy to have balance in one's life.

The key to accepting these new normals is to stop comparing the one I am currently in to the one I have been in before.  I also must stop comparing my normal to the normals of others.  I am my own person with my own journey.  I have my own strengths and my own weaknesses.  I find my way down my path, sometimes making mistakes, sometimes celebrating victories.  I need to determine what each day will look like for me and proudly walk in it without guilt or question.  I need to celebrate my uniqueness and accept my differences.  I need to rejoice in my strengths and refrain from putting myself down, questioning my actions and repeating my list of "shoulds."  My list of "coulds" is long enough and it frees me up to make a choice without any feeling of obligation.

Each moment in my life is a choice.  I choose to enjoy and celebrate and accept rather than question and doubt and wonder what should be.  Bring on the day, normal or not.

Stubborn

I'm stubborn.

I was the first born and watched and copied all the adults around me. I followed the rules and expected everyone else to do the same.  I was the first to draw inside the lines and the last to think outside the box.

I see things a certain way and don't understand why you don't see it that way too.  I like my day to run smoothly and predictably.  I can go with the flow when it comes to the big things, but when it comes to the day to day moments I can control (like the way the laundry is folded, how the dishes are put away and which towel is used for what), I like to have things my way.  I realize this is not conducive to healthy relationships with other people since these tiny things are only important to me and no one else so I've been working on my stubbornness.

For as long as I can remember, at least my married life, I've tried to soften.  I've tried not to care about those little things.  My solution is I think about them in my head and notice them, but never speak of them and don't require those around me to change their ways.  In the meantime, I see it all. 

I like to be right and I usually am.  I don't rub it in your face.  I stop talking, knowing that eventually the proof will reveal itself and you will see I was right all along. 

My stubbornness won't let you see me when I am crashing and need a couch more than anything.  It also won't let me tell you I'm falling apart because I've learned that I should be strong.  If I don't tell you I'm weak, I can fake it long enough to get to the moment where I'm alone, then I can rest and recover and next time I see you I won't have to fake it.

What if you see me weak, then you forget what I can handle and treat me like I'm weak all the time?
What if I'm wrong and you think I'm always wrong?
What if I show you my true self and you don't like me or can't handle all that I am?

I dig my heals in and put on my happy face and make peace with you so I don't have to risk any of my "what ifs."

I'm thankful for the few people I can be raw and real with.  I'm thankful for the few people who have seen me at my worst and still see my strength.  I'm thankful for the people who will tell me I'm being ridiculous.  I'm thankful for the people who will be real with me.

I'm aware of my stubborn weakness like I am aware of my nose.  Some days my stubbornness holds me back.  Some days my stubbornness keeps me walking and gives me victory over my day.

I share this to be real with you, but I also want you to see how your weakness or perceived weakness can be your strength.  It can be the engine that helps you win the race.  Don't beat up yourself for the one thing you can't change.  Choose to see how your weakness might be your strength. 

Lies

Why do we pretend for others?

Why do we put on our best face no matter what?

Why do we fake our feelings?

If we are having a bad day, we should feel free to share it and be honest and real with our friends.  If we are having an amazing day, we should feel free to be excited about it with those we care about. 

Instead, we moderate our feelings.  Our bad day becomes okay.  Our great day becomes good.  That event we are terrified of gets ignored.  The appointment we are excited about is kept quiet just in case it doesn't work out.

I watched a couple of movies with my girls recently where the main female character was unique, honest and confident in her uniqueness.  She wasn't swayed by those around her.  She had a positive outlook on life that drew everyone in and brought light to other's lives.  I know this is a character in a movie and not a real person, but the question screams, "Why are we drawn to these characters?  Why are these characters our favorites?"

My answer is because they are honest.  Even if you take away the positive aspect and look at a character like Clint Eastwood in Gran Torino.  We love his character because he is honest and real.

Why can't we be more honest?  Why can't we be more real with one another?  Why is it so difficult to wash away the fake smile and greetings that fill our list of "supposed to's?"

I am challenging myself to be more real each day.  I believe I am better than I used to be, but I know I have plenty of room to grow.  I'm trying to remember to tell you how much you mean to me and to give you an honest answer to your question rather than always deferring to what you want.  You are asking me what I want because you want to know.  I want to be better at stating my weaknesses and celebrating my strengths and accomplishments.  I also want to be better at accepting your weaknesses and rejoicing in your strengths and accomplishments.

Sometimes, I get tired.  Sometimes I get tired of always being polite or kind even when no one else is polite or kind.  Sometimes I get tired of always being positive or cheerful or helpful.  Sometimes I am simply tired.  I want it to be okay to be tired.  I want it to be okay to sit quietly.  I want it to be okay to struggle.  I want it to be okay to succeed.

Perhaps when we begin being completely honest with ourselves we will begin to be more honest with each other.

I want to challenge you to be honest.  I want to challenge you to put your foot forward even if it isn't your best.  I want to challenge you to be the unique person you were created to be and stop copying your neighbor.  Walk proudly in your own shoes.  Walk confidently on your own path.

Everyone will notice when you are uniquely you and perhaps they will be encouraged to be uniquely themselves as well.

Definitions and Mistakes

Your mistakes do not define you.

Those decisions you determine are poor decisions once its too late to take them back do not determine your character.

Your character is determined  by how you handle the difficult news the stranger told you on the phone a few minutes ago.  Your personality is revealed by your deepest desires, dreams and wishes.

The brief moment when you were selfish does not mean you are a selfish person.  The brief moment when you got angry at injustice does not mean you are an angry person.  The brief moment when you couldn't wait your turn does not mean you are an impatient person. 

It is okay to own your mistakes.  It is okay to apologize for missing the mark.  You are not admitting to being a bad person, you are admitting to a mistake and owning up to your actions.  You are requesting others forgive your mistake and recognize it was an action or a possible reaction and not the essence of who you are. 

You are not your mistakes.

Life is constantly surprising us.  As much as we would like to be in control and think we can handle each surprise and each new turn in the path or each rock that trips us along the way, we can't.  We get overwhelmed.  We get tired.  We become weary in the battle and sometimes we let our guard down.  Sometimes the first thought pours out of our mouth when in reality we wanted to swallow it and forget it.  Sometimes our self-control shows up late to the party.  While we are waiting for it to arrive, it feels like someone is controlling us with a remote control and laughing at the results.  Sometimes we are certain we are correct and bury our feet in certainty, until the light shines and we are proven incredibly wrong.

Dwelling on these mistakes only creates pain and regret.  Expecting to never make the mistakes in the first place is unhealthy and unrealistic. 

Dealing with mistakes is comparable to dealing with obstacles.  You assess them.  You move around them, over them, under them or through them.  Then you learn from them.  You learn how to handle the future.  You learn how to make better decisions next time.  And sometimes, you make the same mistake a hundred more times.

I remember times when my girls were younger and they could push each and every one of my buttons.  I was exhausted and overwhelmed, they were simply normal children doing what children do, but I would blow.  The room was finally too messy, the noise was finally too loud or they were too needy.  I don't remember all I said or did, but I know I overreacted.  I inevitably came back apologizing for my actions and telling them I loved them.  They never labeled me a bad mom for those moments.  They saw me as a human being.  A human being they could trust to let them make their own mistakes.

My reactions didn't define me, but my actions did.  They knew and still know it is okay to be a human who makes mistakes. 

The secret to a successful journey is to walk, when you trip, get up, and keep walking.  The scratch on your leg is not the sum of you.  It is a small scratch that will heal.  It may leave a scar to remind you of where you have been and what you have done.  That scar is not a definition of your whole self anymore than a dog's tail determines what kind of dog it is.

Rejoice in your mistakes because your journey is not over and you get to try again.  Rejoice in the strength of your character and personality which stands and endures all the bumps and bruises along the journey.

Problems

What is the worst that can happen?

More than likely, whatever is happening now is far from the worst.

Life is about choosing which problems you'd prefer and accepting our problems our actually our choices.

These thoughts were inspired by words from Mark Manson. 

Let me explain by sharing a couple of personal examples. 

When Jenny called me on October 1, 2012 to tell me I had breast cancer, I had no choice in whether or not breast cancer would be one of my problems, but I did get to choose which steps I would take and how I would think about this problem.

I chose to keep moving.  I decided going to work everyday, being with my family and attempting to continue to do my daily tasks, although difficult, was a better problem for me to face than sitting around waiting for the cancer to do whatever it wanted to do. 

I chose to embrace my thoughts of fear of the unknown and doubt about my ability to stand in the face of the emotional and physical attack constantly berating me.  I wrote down my thoughts.  I acknowledged them then I daily, hourly, minute by minute surrendered myself and my situation to my Daddy.  The daily emotional battle was a better problem for me than holding my emotions in and pretending to be okay until one day I had nothing left.

When I was diagnosed with MS in February of 2015, I didn't get to choose whether or not MS would be a problem I would deal with for the rest of my life, but I did get to choose what my future days would look like and how I would choose to prepare myself for this disease.

I chose to keep moving.  I chose to go to work.  I chose to listen to my body.  When I was weary, I rested.  I chose to eat food that would strengthen my body.  I chose to exercise to increase my balance, strength and awareness of myself.  I choose to embrace what I could control about my health.  All these choices took extra work and energy and didn't always mean I was doing what I wanted, but they were better problems than sitting back and letting MS do whatever it wanted and passively allowing it.

I chose not to dwell on the possibility that MS could come steal whatever it wanted from me in a moment's notice and instead deal with the problem of fully embracing each moment and each ability I had.  If today I can run, I am blessed and thankful.  If tomorrow I can't run, I am thankful I didn't take my ability for granted while I had it.  Then I hope for another day of running.

Last November when walking, sitting and standing was too painful, my herniated disc pressing on my sciatic nerve could have been the problem that consumed me and made my quit trying.  I chose to lie down and remind myself that this was temporary.  As my strength disappeared because of my new completely sedentary life style, I reminded myself I would be strong again one day.  I simply had to pass through this storm.  Once I was allowed to walk again, I walked.  I chose to deal with the problems of snow and cold in order to walk and gain my strength back.  I celebrated each step further than the day before.  I rejoiced at my faster times each time I journeyed into the cold.

Our new house was one of our greatest blessings.  We relinquished problems of needed repairs, high utility bills and long commutes when we moved.  We have new problems in our new home: higher mortgage, new cleaning products to buy, and large windows to clean.  Quite honestly, the problems in our new home aren't problems at all to me, but they technically are.  They are the problems I choose.

I choose my problems and in the midst of problems I can't choose, I choose my reaction.  MS taught me to fully embrace what I can control and surrender to what I can't.  I can control my actions, my reactions, my thoughts and my choices.  I don't have time to waste my energy and thoughts on what I can't control.

Braking

"It's harder to go down hill.  You have to keep your brakes on all the time."

My husband's great grandpa often said this quote.  It may seem obvious, but I don't I'm not sure we think about it all the time. 

When we travel from our house to visit family we have to go over a mountain pass any direction we go.  There are some steep grade downhill areas coming out of the passes.  In each of those areas there is a runoff truck ramp.  The creators of these roads know that semi trucks weighing many tons are coming down these hills.  Truckers have their foot on the brakes and sometimes these brakes can't take any more pressure and give out.  Trucks then turn onto these gravel roads and slow down.

The only relief for these trucks is to drag their tires uphill through deep, difficult gravel.

A few years ago while in Bozeman, Montana we had the opportunity to hike the M.  The M is a destination at the mouth of Bridger Canyon.  There are two trails up to it: one is windy, the other is extremely steep, traveling straight up the 820 feet in elevation.  As difficult as the steep trail is, the most difficult part is coming down.  Your toes try to jam themselves into the ends of your shoes.  Your knees ache from the extra force on them.  You have to be careful not to let your speed get away from you or you will go down the hill faster than your feet can keep up with.  Your head will have reached the end of the trail while the rest of your body is frantically trying to keep up so you don't get hurt. 

The only relief comes in the bends in the trail that attempt to keep you on a more level plane on your way down.

My husband's family shared a story where they took his grandma up a steep trail to use the restroom.  The adventure included some creative teamwork to get the wheel chair over roots and rocks and through the grass and dirt.  They succeeded in reaching the restroom then the most difficult part of the journey began: the trial back down.  They had to hold the front and back of the wheelchair to keep it from rolling uncontrollable down the hill. 

The only relief came from keeping the brakes on and going slowly down the hill.

Our journeys are full of hills.  Often times we think of our difficulties as a steep hill we traverse hoping to get to the top where we can enjoy the amazing view.  We forget the journey back down the hill may be difficult also.  Your brakes might fail and you have to climb back up the hill to slow down.  The trail down might be slow and windy, full of bends taking you far from where you think you should be going, but each bend is intended to keep you from hurting yourself and running faster than you are ready for down to the bottom.  Sometimes you feel like you are traveling with your brakes on.  The pace feels too slow, but you know if you let up on the brakes everything will pass you by and you may fall when you finally reach the bottom.

Journeys are unique.  The view changes with each new step.  The trials and difficult bends come and go.  We get scared about the steep climb up the hill, but we should also be cautious about the downhill journeys.  If we think we can coast to the bottom of the hill, we may either miss out on some important parts of our path or we can hurt ourselves along the way.  "It's all downhill from here" does not mean the rest of the journey will be easy.  It means we have to be careful and slowly take one step at a time.

My solution to these up and down journeys is to focus on where I am right now.  I try to watch my step.  I try to enjoy what I see.  I try to prepare myself for surprises, but ultimately I can only walk the path in front of me.  I can only see my next step.  I walk my own path.

These past few weeks I had to put on my brakes.  I caught a cold that refused to leave.  I have spent 3 weeks resting then working then resting.  I got excited when I started to feel better and took my foot off the brake then I started to fall down the hill and had to put on my brakes again.  I may have ended up in the gravel at some point when I failed to use my brakes when I should have.  I'm finally starting to feel better again.  This time I won't let my foot off the brake so quickly.

Enjoy your journey with all the ups and downs, races, and slow strolls.

Lawn Mowers

This morning my husband read me an article about lawn mower parents.  I had heard of helicopter parents, parents who are always watching over everything their kids do.  They hover and and are ever-present.  I hadn't heard of lawn mower parents until this morning.  These parents are constantly clearing obstacles out of their child's way.  Anything that might hurt them is removed.  This constant lawn mowing teaches children they can't handle adversity or stress.  It teaches them they are not strong enough for the obstacles life throws at them.

I've seen the evidence of this.  As a teacher, I hear students tell me they can't do things because they have been told they can't.  They can't handle stress.  They can't focus.  They can't do math.  None of these can'ts are true.  They simply haven't learned how yet.

As he was reading the article, I thought about the person I would be now if I hadn't passed through so much adversity in my life.  It didn't start with cancer diagnosis, but that was a big moment in my transformation.  I began to see people more clearly and had better priorities.  Each obstacle I encounter is another opportunity to become stronger, not to give up.  Each trial that falls at my feet is an opportunity to learn a better way rather than retreat in failure.

You can go back and read old posts about how I handled adversity in the big, difficult moments, but I still get excited about the little moments too.  I've had some form of a cold or left overs of a cold for two weeks now.  I've spent 3 different weekends resting to some extent so I can do my job during the week.  I could easily quit.  I could easily say "I don't feel well, see you when I do."  But I don't.  I rest when I can.  I make the smartest choices I can about what I eat and what I spend my energy on.  I don't run myself into the ground, but I also don't give up.  I took almost a week off of exercise when my cold was at its worst, but I am back to it now.  Some would use their illness as an excuse and refuse to exercise.  I have found that as long as I can, it can't speed up the healing process.  Yesterday, after my workout, I threw up.  I threw up a bunch of crud that was sitting in my chest and would have remained if I hadn't exerted extra energy.

I still get tired.  I still have days of pain.  I still have to take a day at the end of the week to recover.  However, I have overcome more obstacles than I can count in my 41 years and am thankful for each one.

I believe my adversities have made me more grounded, compassionate, understanding and peaceful. 

As you face your own difficulties, I pray no one mows them down for you so you can see how strong and amazing you are.  I pray you overcome every adversity and look back at what you can accomplish.  When the next trial comes you will know you can handle it because of all you have already accomplished.

Colds

After taking 6 weeks off of teaching last year due to back surgery, I was determined to have a healthy school year this year.  I was determined not to get sick and not to have to take a bunch of days off. 

So this past week I caught a cold.

I only had to take one sick day, but I was sick all week.  I spent most of the past two weekends on the couch trying to rest and heal so I could make it through the work week.

A little bit of pride snuck in.  I thought I could will myself to remain healthy.  I was quickly reminded I do not have the power to will health on myself.  I can only make the best choices available to me and when illness sneaks in anyway, I have to succumb and give myself time to heal. 

You can't ignore illnesses and pretend you are well, you will simply get more ill.

You can't ignore fatigue and keep moving, you will eventually collapse.  

You can't ignore a needed rest, it will catch up to you in the end.

You have to care for yourself.  

You have to eat food that makes you feel strong and powerful.

You have to exercise and let you body move and gain strength.

You have to sleep and let your mind and body rest.

I know these things.  I've been fighting against them for years.  I've been deciding between work and rest since I was in high school and choose homework or friends over sleep.  I chose motherly and wifely duties over rest when my girls were little.  I choose school work over rest for many of my early teaching years.

Then cancer came. . . then MS. . . then debilitating pain leading to back surgery and I learned that my health isn't greater than any other choice.

I'm stronger than I've ever been.  I can run and move without exhaustion.  I've learned how to eat so I have more strength and energy and I love what I get to eat.  Most importantly, I know how to rest.  I know when my body needs a break and I take it.  I know when I am catching a cold and take precautions to let my body repair itself.  I don't put myself in jeopardy by neglecting sleep.  Most importantly, I don't feel badly for taking care of myself.

If your health slips away it takes a lot of time and a lot of work to get it back. I have mine.  It doesn't matter what my medical record says.  I am healthy and amazing and having a cold for a week simply gives me a chance to remember how grateful I am for all I can do.  It reminds me it is okay to take sick days and it is okay celebrate healthy days. 

I feel like I talk about how important it is to do everything you can to remain healthy a lot, but as I look around, so many people are unhealthy.  Just 4 months ago I weighed 15 pounds more than I do now.  I didn't know I had that much weight to lose.  I didn't know I was eating food that helped to keep my mind foggy and maintain lethargic energy.  I didn't know until I changed, until I started to make different decisions.  

I want everyone to feel strong and healthy.  I want everyone to have energy and to be happy in their own skin.  I've been to all the other places of health and want to stay where I am for as long as I can.  In fact, this past week I was unable to exercise and I still lost weight (fat, not just muscle) and I still PR'd my bench press today.  I was extra fit before I got sick so I didn't lose my health.  In fact, my level of fitness probably helps me heal faster.

Take the time and energy to invest in yourself.  Your health is worth more than anything else you can invest in.

Weak Strength

I am strong and I am weak.

Sometimes I am strong.  I celebrate all I am capable of doing.  I am great at my job.  I can function physically.  I ran an easy mile the other day.  I am a good mom.  I'm a good wife.

Yet, at the same time I am weak.  I may be good at my job, but I still feel tired.  I am more capable than I should be, yet I still have so many weaknesses.

Paul said, "When I am weak, then You are strong."  He was speaking about how he can overcome his weaknesses because God gave him the strength to do so.

Perhaps that is why I feel my weaknesses and strengths simultaneously.  It isn't really that I am strong, it is that my Daddy makes me strong in my weakest moments.

So, here's to celebrating strength and weakness. 
Here's to each victory and each difficulty.  In the end, I passed through and am still here. 
Here's to moving forward every day. 
Here's to being strong when we really just want to lay down. 
Here's to being weak and not being afraid of what will come next.
Here's to our weak strength.

Beneath the Surface

This week I've noticed that the deep, dark, strong feelings life brings around on the days we are strong enough to handle them are never truly gone.  They sit just beneath the surface. 

Like a needle digging out a splinter that goes too deep, events can poke into those buried feelings and spring a leak. 

If I watch a movie or read a book about grandmas I remember and miss my grandma.  Pansies, tractors, cows (especially calves), dragonflies and the simple life remind me of her.  I remember my visits.  I remember hot chocolate and Almond Roca.  I remember walks, talks and days in the garden.  The memories are as clear as yesterday and so are the tears flowing up from the deep places where I keep them buried because my sadness is simply to painful to bear for more than a moment at a time.  Even now, the tears have returned.  My husband is going to wonder what is going on as I work to push them back to the dark place and come back to the present where Grandma is no longer here.

I read or hear stories about people fighting cancer and quickly remember the pain I bore, both physically and emotionally.  I am forever thankful that pain is in my past, but the memory of it and the scars it left behind are still very much a part of me.  I suppose the pain is why I am so happy to try to bring hope to others who are on the same fighting journey.  I have not forgotten.  I know how difficult each breath and each step becomes in those dark places and hope to provide light.

I understand loss and I understand pain.  The other day, we watched a movie that threatened to tap into my dark place.  The tears tried to overtake me and all the pain and sadness tried to wash over me.  I held it at bay.  I don't know if it's healthy to keep it buried so deep.  I haven't forgotten it.  I know it is there every moment of every day, but the flood of pain and sadness is too great for me to bear.  I see glimpses of it when life pricks a little too deep or a memory opens a window, but for the most part, the pain drives me to find healing and the sadness drives me to find joy.

I know in the midst of your difficult journey, the layer keeping your pain and sadness from overtaking you is as thin as an onion skin.  It wouldn't take much for it to fly away, to be punctured, or for others to look too deeply and see through it.  I know the pain and sadness are ultimately healthy, but the weight of them is too much to hold all at once.  You learn to feel it in waves.  I used to feel it in the restroom.  No one was going to interrupt me.  I took a moment to feel.  I breathed deep, cried, then gathered myself to go out into the world once again.

Unfortunately, the beautiful memories driving us and giving us hope are often buried with the pain and sadness.  I pray you learn how to access both and to let the memories remind you of the beauty that has formed you and the sadness will give you strength to remember in the end the sadness will also be beautiful.

It's okay to be strong and it's okay to feel every little thing coming your way whether it's beneath the surface our spouting like a geyser. 
You are okay. 
You are amazing. 
You will be victorious.

Cans and Can'ts

Yesterday was the first day in a long time I was able to sleep in a little bit.
I drank my coffee outside in the cool morning then began my morning exercise.  I do CrossFit.  If you don't know anything about it, it is functional fitness.  I exercise in a way that makes living life easier.  I'm not trying to simply strengthen one muscle at a time, I'm trying to make moving easier and more efficient and in the meantime I get stronger and leaner.

But that is not what this post is about.

When I finished my workout, which consisted of hang power cleans with a barbell, push ups and air squats, I felt amazing.

I didn't feel amazing because the workout was easy, in fact, I was lying on the ground trying to slow my breathing when I finished.

It was amazing because I did it.

I moved a barbell from my hips to my shoulders efficiently, with strength and amazing form.  I did my push-ups quickly and didn't have to take breaks whenever my arms refused to move because my arms kept moving.  I squatted with near-perfect form and sped through them. 

It felt amazing because I could move.
It felt amazing because I could push myself to be better.
It felt amazing because I could breath.
It felt amazing because I could.

Over the past 10 months, I have graduated from lying in a recliner feeling pain with every movement to walking slowly to adding a few new movements, but doing them slowly, to beginning to pick up light weights to moving faster to the amazing workout I finished yesterday. 

Each and every step was a small victory.  When I could walk pain free I was thrilled.  When I was allowed to do my first squat I was ecstatic.  When I got to pick up my first barbell, I celebrated.  Everything I am capable of doing is a celebration.  Every strength I have is a gift.  Every weakness I have is simply something waiting to be a strength.

I tell you this story to encourage you to celebrate all you CAN do. 
I don't know what your can'ts are, but I know they can threaten to pull you down.  They can threaten to make you feel "less than" or weak.  They can send you into dark places.

Today celebrate all you can do.  If you are reading this I know you can breath and read.  Find every little ability and celebrate. 

Today my cans outweigh my can'ts.  I still feel my weaknesses, but all I want to focus on are my strengths.  When I focus on my strengths I feel stronger.  I don't see my weakness like blinding neon signs and I am excited to keep moving and potentially overcome any and all obstacles threatening to stop me.

I know you wish you had nothing you had to say you can't do, but don't forget all you can do. I know you have medical struggles or family struggles or work struggles.  I also know you are victorious over so many other things.  Live in the victories and they will soon increase.

Another Step

I don't have anything to say I haven't already said.

I know life is difficult.  I know you can do more than survive the difficulties.  I know you feel worn out and tired and overwhelmed, but there will be a day when you feel victorious.

I know sometimes you wish the path you are forced to walk wasn't yours.  Sometimes you wish you could sprint through it just to get it over with, but it is too steep, too rocky, too windy.  You find yourselves crawling and are tempted to lay down.

Some of you have passed through a difficult section of your path and are enjoying a peaceful stroll for a time.  You are stronger and have a moment to refresh before the next difficult bend tries to break you.

Wherever you are, please keep moving. 
Keep hoping. 
Keep dreaming. 
Keep believing that the difficult part of your journey will not last forever. 
It will end. 
You will find your strength. 
You will find your breathe. 
You will look back at the most difficult part of your path and you will finally see how strong and amazing you are. 
You will know that nothing will take you down. 
Nothing will be too big for you.

Dig in, find your strength.  Lean on those who love you . . . and take another step.