Free

 

In the places we hide
And the corners we crouch
Pain and lies
Seem to protect
and we seldom see
Hope or light
As we cower and smile
Pretend and nod

But I know the truth
And I’ve lived in freedom
I've grasped to Him
And been set free
He came so I can go
He died so I can be
He lives so I am free

In the quiet ugly
Where we hold our hurt
Fear and anger
Seem like comfort
And we seldom feel
Peace or joy
As we cower and smile
Pretend and nod

But I know the truth
And I’ve lived in freedom
I've grasped to Him
And been set free
He came so I can go
He died so I can be
He lives so I am free

Hope and light
Peace and joy

Hope and light
Peace and joy

Step out of the corner
Away from the lies
Lay down your ugly
And no longer hide
For it is all true
And we are free
And we cling to Him
To be set free

He came so we can go
He died so we can be
He lives so we are free.

That's what I got today.....

The Start of Journey that Will Never End......

I've been on my faith journey since I was very young.....long before I even knew I was on it. I've shared bits and pieces and I've been processing it for a long time. My friend has inspired me to start to put pen to paper and write it down.  It is only my story and I speak for nobody else. No one else can tell it, so I guess it's time I do. (Insert a heart cry rendition of 'Unwritten'.  Seriously, it is my heart song.)

In the beginning.....


I grew up in a quasi Catholic home.  I say quasi because if anyone had asked me or anyone in my family we likely would have answered, "We're Catholic" but we really did not put into practice much of the Catholic faith or traditions.

We said grace.
My sister and I went to CCD.
We celebrated our 1st Communion.
We demonstrated the sign of the cross.
We believed the bible was true.

Because of weekly CCD, I knew, what I thought at the time, was a lot about God.  I don't like to say that these ideas were warped or wrong...because they were all that I knew at the time and they were the start of my journey....but looking back, so much was just slightly left field. But we don't get to the ending of a book and fully understand if we didn't read chapter 1, right?  So, here's my chapter 1.

Looking back on my very early years....I have several strong memories of what I believed.

There was God of course. And he was old and lived in Heaven and really didn't have a body but he would punish you if you did wrong and he judged us and he knew everything and he saw everything. He knew when you were behaving and when you were sinning.  I might be getting that a little mixed up with Santa Claus, I'm not sure.  I remember a CCD teacher telling us that we needed to watch what did because God was always watching.  I'm sure it was an attempt to 'scare' us into obedience...but for the next few months I could not take a shower or get dressed without hiding behind a washcloth and crouching over to shield my 'privates' from God. I mean, gross, God was an old man just sitting in Heaven watching all of my nakedness?  No. Thank. You.

There was confession of course.  I'm not sure how often, but I remember several times entering in the phone booth and waiting for the little door to open. I'd try so hard to use my peripheral vision to see who was next to me.  I also remember lying about my sins as I confessed them. I mean, did they really expect me to tell the truth of my ugly to that creepy Priest (or whoever it was sitting over there)  So I'd make up a few things and then go home and apologize to God for my 'real' sins.  I also never did my penance.  I kind of always thought that just saying I'm sorry had to be as impactful as 5 Hail Mary's. But, none of that mattered because confession was a must.

There was heaven and hell. God lived in Heaven and the devil lived in hell. We wanted heaven. We wanted the beautiful staircase to drop down when we died and carry us up to the pearly gates where we would be let in and live on golden streets in a mansion.  If you sinned too bad, killed yourself, broke the 10 commandments, well....you were going to hell. And you'd burn in that fiery pit for your sin.  Follow what God said and you could go to Heaven. Break the rules and you would be sent to hell.  This terrified me. And I didn't think it could be undone.

There were the 10 commandments.  Moses was incredibly intelligent and so God gave him the set of rules that we needed to follow.  And if we did, then we were good.  A list to follow and make sure we were living by.  And if we didn't.  We were....well, not so good.  I felt pretty good and safe about 8 of those rules. There were 2 that I was pretty sure I had broken or would break and that made me think that it basically was a wrap.  (see above paragraph)

There was Jesus. He was God's son but also the son of this teenager named Mary. He performed miracles and had disciples who helped teach everybody what they needed to do. Jesus was very handsome and he was destined to die. We had to believe in him to go to Heaven as well as do all of the right stuff. I always knew he was real. I'm not sure why because I really didn't understand how it all worked...but the mystery of how he was fully man and fully God...how he came to fulfill prophecy and show us the way to live....made me believe that his banner over me really was love.  (PS. First song about Jesus that I loved and memorized)

There was prayer.  In the middle of so much that I didn't understand...and so much that I wasn't sure I believed... There was prayer. And for as long as I can remember....before I knew anything about anything, I knew prayer was real. And I knew that God was listening. And I knew that there was something supernatural about trusting and believing that God had a plan and that he sent blessing. I talked to God a lot. I cried out to him for help. I yelled at him when I saw suffering. I thanked him. And I whispered hard truths that I couldn't tell anyone else. I truly believed that prayer changed things.

As I finished middle school....CCD changed. It became more and more of a place where you either fit in or you didn't. Just an extension of school. And as I switched to the Milwaukee Ballet School-Waukesha for dance classes....my schedule became increasingly busy. Between ballet, pointe, jazz and tap classes...I no long attended CCD on a regular basis.  I didn't experience this as a loss really, because I don't know that I ever experienced it as a gain.

Little did I know what I was headed into for chapter 2.

That's what I got today.

Tired. And enraged.

A few days ago it was announced that the officer that killed Philando Castile was acquitted.

We were getting ready to celebrate my youngest's son's graduation that day with a pool party--friends and family---LOTS of fun and laughter---and a divided heart.  So I pushed my anger, sadness and despair DEEEEEP into my psyche so that I could properly celebrate my son.

For those who don't know, I have three black sons. Yes they have Mexican and white heritage as well....but guess what, society sees them as black. And they, for the most part, identify as black.

So every time I read another article, hear another news story, shed another tear...I am constantly reminded that.....that could be my son.

And when I post that fear....I am really, really tired of white people I know telling me that I don't have to worry about that because

'your boys aren't trouble makers'
'your boys wouldn't put themselves in that position'
'your boys were raised right'
'your boys know how to act'

And the next day was Father's Day and so I kept all that anger, sadness and despair pressed DEEEEEEP into my psyche still so that I could properly celebrate my husband.

For those who don't know, my husband is black.  And he is a hard worker, intelligent, thoughtful, and a great father to our sons and father figure to dozens more.

So it's also incredibly frustrating to hear all the stereotypes, read all the memes, listen to all the blanket statements made about black men--specifically black fathers.

And when I post about that frustration....I am really, really tired of white people I know telling me that

'Blue Lives Matter'
'you got one of the good ones'
'statistics don't lie'
'of course cops are afraid'

To all of that bullshit I want to scream 'SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU IGNORANT, BLIND AND FOOLISH IDIOT!!!!  HOW CAN YOU STILL REFUSE TO HAVE YOUR EYES OPENED?!?'

But I don't.

At least not out loud.

For anyone who still attempts to hang onto the thought that there is no racial divide in this country, I am wondering how do they explain....

Not just that a cop killed Philando Castile....but why isn't the NRA in an uproar that a LEGAL gun owner's rights were violated and his life taken while exerting HIS LEGAL AMERICAN right and nobody is responsible?

Not just that a cop killed Tamir Rice....but why aren't parent groups OUTRAGED that a middle school aged boy was gunned down on a playground IN BROAD DAYLIGHT and nobody is responsible?

Not just that a cop killed Walter Scott...but why there aren't other officers stepping up to speak against a cop that would gun down a man running away, with no weapon; to set the record straight that this isn't standard procedure?


The truth is.

I'm tired. As much as I am enraged.

I'm tired of encouraging people to read Shaun King. I'm tired of suggesting people watch 13th.  I'm tired of the same conversations and tired of the same responses.

I'm tired of a society that does not value my son's or husband's lives.  And continues to show that by not holding the officer's accountable who take the lives of those like them. 

I'm tired of having to pretend I don't see, hear or know the deep, UGLY racist ass comments people say...but I have to pretend or I'd be sitting in Taycheedah.

But how dare I get tired.  Because as tired as I get...being the mother and wife of black men does not give me some kind of pass....if I'm not daily self checking my own biases and hatred....then I'm part of the problem.


Michael Brown wasn't innocent enough? Eric Garner either?
Tamir had a toy gun...so maybe there was reason?
Walter why did you run....Oscar couldn't you just shush?
I mean, what other choice was there? What else could they have done?
Please don't forget Sandra and most recently Charleena
Stories that don't add up....right? Do we care what's the reason?
And Philando....traffic stop gone wrong....what?
Please don't believe those tired old lines...
Used to justify and twist the truth so we don't believe what
we see with our own eyes.
We say---black man, don't be afraid of cops...but
make sure you say everything right
obey every command because you must MORE than comply
because we know the truth....if THEY  say they are afraid-
They will get away with murder.

That's what I got today.

2009 to 2017

 

 

It's amazing to me how alike and how different four people can be coming from the same home.  I can see my husband, myself in them definitely, but I can also see an independent spirit oozing from each of them.

 

When I look at these pictures, I can't help but smile at seeing the physical transformation that occurred between 2009 to 2017!!  Of course some of that would also be explained if you could see in each picture who is on their tippy toes, ha!

 

But I think the greater transformation has been in their character. While remaining true to themselves...they continue to mature into the adults they will be.

 

And I am inspired by them.

 

Jordyn is full of fire and love. She is finding her voice and learning how to face conflict and her fears. She is an ambassador for her beliefs and always roots for the underdog. She isn't sure  how what to make of all of the testosterone in the air when all of her brothers are together.

Isaiah is so compassionate and driven. He has always set goals with every intention of achieving them and puts others before himself. He is serious and intelligent and has high standards for himself. He expects greatness.

Elijah gives unconditional love like nobody else I know. He is quick to forgive and never takes life too seriously. He loves to make people laugh and is laid back. He is the person you want near by when you are having a horrible day.

Israel is a fighter. He will stand down for no one. He stands firm in his convictions and never compromises. He does not care what others think of him. He has learned to know himself well and challenge himself to be more.

 

They are not perfect. I don't want them to be. I want them to rise to the occasion, to dig deep, to roll up their sleeves.  I want them to remember things they've been taught and not to settle.

 

We were kind of strict.

I know at times others many thought too strict.

We didn't care.

 

The discipline they were taught.....they need as adults.

They will not always make decisions I agree with.

I don't want them to. (seriously, I know everyone thinks I'm joking but I don't.)

 

 

I want them to live honestly. Hiddenness leads to a darkness I don't want them to toy with.

I want them to live bodly. I don't want them to be afraid of showing the world who they are.

I want them to forgive. There is nothing but stress that comes from holding onto wounds.

I want them to love humanity. To see others with value. To cherish differences. To have compassion and connection with others.

 

I want them to continue to grow and discover and embrace. 

I want them to continue to live and learn and love.

I want them to remember they have a firm foundation.

I want them to remember not to give in or give up too easily.

 

My heart and head have been all a muck this past week or so.

 

But this is what I got today.

 

3rd glance? Just no.

I am fully aware that the blog I am going to write today is going to rub some people the wrong way. I am sure I will be called a hater or petty or an old lady and if this opinion makes me that, well, so be it.  Disregard the picture below for now. I'll get to that in a minute. And before your blast me with .....it goes both ways, double standard....please, feel free to write your own blog. This is my opinion and what I've got today.

Because of the number of times this has occurred in the last few days (well, it's a very often thing actually...but specifically brought to my attention the last few days) I felt compelled to write....

Men. Young and old. I have some advice.  Take it if you'd like. Write me off if you'd like. I promise you there are A LOT of us who share this opinion.

Can you please respect women, females, ladies, girls, chicks, babes, whatever vernacular you are using to describe us....and stick with the 2 glance minimum and avoid the 3rd glance, stare and once over?

We are not here to be your eye candy. And even those that may not have been taught yet that their worth does not lie in a man's approval of their appearance?  They aren't your eye candy either.

I see it like this.

There's the 1st glance. We are people. We notice each other. Many of us glance at the people around us. Might catch and eye and smile. Might give a nod.

Then there's the 2nd glance. Often this is just moments after the 1st glance. Occasionally it's a minute or two later. But we know when it comes. It is a little bit longer and could be for a number of reasons. Maybe we have a booger hanging out of our nose. Maybe we something in our teeth. Maybe you like our hair style. Maybe we remind you of someone. Maybe you think you know us. Maybe you find us attractive. Regardless. We know you have glanced twice. No big deal.

Then. There's the 3rd glance. Which becomes almost a stare and then definitely includes your eyes scanning our entire body.

3rd glance?

Stop. Just stop this. It's easy to do. It's called self control.

This 3rd glance includes looking at us from our face all the way down to our tootsies. And then, it often even includes the glance back up. Excuse me, but my toes, legs, hips, chest, and smile are not here for your viewing pleasure. And I don't know what is worse....pretending that you aren't doing it....or your gaze lingering longer on the body part you find attractive. 

This often has nothing to do with what we look like or what we are wearing. Now. Enter picture below. This is me today and pretty common of what I look like on a community work day. Dressed appropriately. Yes I'm in leggings but everything is covered. No make up. Looking all of my 46 years and minding my business.  Wearing open toe because summer.

And the number of 3rd glances had me ready to agree with my husband's request for me to carry a taser for my job. (Which, incidentally, is why I likely should never carry one. Today I might have just used it.)



Men.

Please. Teach your sons and the other young men around you to value us for more than our bodies. To respect that we are not an object to ogle. Exert the self control yourself and stop yourself before the 3rd glance. This is especially important

Maybe some of you already are 2nd glancers. You were either raised such that you do not do this or you realized that it really, at it's core, is disrespectful and learned to stop at 2. Then guess what, please help your 3rd glancer friends and family out.

Maybe some of you are 3rd glancers and this might be hard to stop. Maybe you've never even thought about the fact that this is unsolicited attention and that it isn't flattering.  (and to the those of us in the camp who think it is, of which I formerly was....that blog is coming too)  Maybe you think because you aren't whistling or cat calling that it's 'not that bad'.  That's an entirely different level yes, but the 3rd glance once over is what we're focusing on here.

1st glance? Yes.
2nd glance? Yes.
3rd glance? No. Just no.

That's what I got today.

Chapter 16

So some of you who've been reading for awhile might know that awhile back my therapist had me read Codependent No More. Because I truly believe that, for me at least, it's a work in progress...I occasionally need to revisit the book from time to time.

Today I settled on Chapter 16 'Set Your Own Goals' and it speaks to the fact that many who are in the throws of codependency do not or have not set goals. The odd thing, though is that we might not even realize that we have not been setting goals because we've made other's goals our goals.

With regards to goal setting the author writes:
'Many codependents don't know this joy,. I spent many years of my life not even bothering to think about what I wanted and needed, where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do. I wasn't interested in my life, expect as an appendage to other people. I didn't think about living my life; I was too focused on others. I was too busy reacting, rather than acting.'

I can relate to this. 

Don't get me wrong....it's not that I've never set A goal in the recent past....I've made goals with regards to writing, weight loss....but it's been quite some time since I've had a burning passion.

I do believe that this is because really the past 20 years were spent focusing on my husband and my children. And this was good. And I really enjoyed it.  And I wouldn't change it. My daughter had dance, girl scouts, summer camp, choir, weekends with her dad, the boys had sports and sports and sports, my husband had school, ministry and coaching. I helped orchestrate it all and hold down the fort. I do not regret being there and putting my focus there. I really don't. It was a privileged part of my journey that makes me smile even now as I think about it.

I am an incredible cheerleader.

I just forgot to cheer for myself.  And I'm both excited and nervous about moving into this phase.

My husband and kids are always encouraging me to try new things, to go out and do for myself.  My hesitancy has been a little about fear of failure, but it's mostly been about concern that I wouldn't be available if they needed me.

And part of the codependency mess in my mind.....is that I am valuable to them only by what I can provide for them, do for them, or how I care of them....rather than just for being me. So I make myself fully available, put myself on hold...and then the lack of goals and dreams of my own lead to a lack of self worth and the inability to love myself fully.

It's a vicious cycle.

Because as I lose myself....I'm not even realizing it....because I am so focused on others. And as I focus so much on others....I fear that if I venture out to pursue myself I will lose them.

And here's the really messy part in the midst of this. I do believe that God love me deeper than I can imagine. I believe that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. That He delights in me.  Most days I feel this love in real and deep ways that keep me afloat and draw me close to Him. 

But some days...the deceiver whispers in my ear......

That the kids are grown and all away....and they don't need me or my influence in their lives anymore.
That my husband is pursuing great things...and we'll drift apart without the connection of co-parenting together.
That things I try will fail because I most certainly don't have the skills, gifts and abilities I had when I was younger.

Those days? Those moments? I'm learning to stop and shut that out.  To take a deep breath and remind myself of my worth.  To remind myself of the goals I have for myself and that I am capable of accomplishing much. That I exist outside of my family and my job.

I am learning that this next stage of life is going to be full of new chapters.
I am also learning that this is good. 

I am ready for the joy of setting goals for myself, that I can pursue and accomplish just because I want to. It doesn't matter if it's a simple goal to walk everyday for a month or a big goal to go back to college.  Both have value. Because both are pushing me to achieve a goal and focus on myself.

I don't know where you are at. If you struggle with issues of codependency or not, but know that you matter.  The you that exists outside of your roles. The you that is deep inside of you and maybe has been on a shelf for awhile. Bring that you out and allow he or she to thrive and achieve.

It's time.

That's what I got today.