35 and lost
Alone and rejected.
Full of despair
and the pain of a
life nobody wants to live.
Three kids from nowhere
Taken and used.
Decieving and promised.
Blinding believing
And trusting in lies.
Wandering.
Drowning.
Alone and afraid.
20 and alive.
Full of promise and pride.
Ready to tackle
All of life's woes.
Depending on nobody.
Trusting even less.
Resilient and ready
To take down anyone in her path.
Wandering
Fighting
Cynical and closed.
Fifty and seeking.
Scrambling to survive.
Defying the odds
And every statistic
Because of passion
Persistence and
Strength beyond measure
Struggling.
Persevering
Sharing and learning.
Priveleged to know
women with stories
like these.
And I learn from them daily that
Jesus is alive
And it's much deeper than me.
What in the world do we know?
About purpose and faith...
Can we honestly say that we
would know His face?
Can we openly admit
That we're not worthy of grace?
Do we want to truly see what it means to live on our knees?
Are we ready to understand that His love is for more than me?
And if we claim to know that those statements are true?
Then where are our bruises and who are we reaching?
How are we sharing, what are we teaching and
Are we ready to NEVER stop until He says we're through?
35 and lost.
20 and alive.
50 and seeking.
It's not them.
It's not us.
It's Him.
And it's we.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Friday, August 10, 2012
Jordyn Ashley...
So when I was just a babe myself, I found myself pregnant with my daughter Jordyn. While it might seem that I should've been scared, sad or distraught...I was not. I was excited and full of joy and couldn't wait for her to be born! I truly felt that life was a gift and I know that she was God's gift to me and my family. She was quite the baby...didn't was until about 14 months...didn't sleep through the night until a 1 1/2 years old...and with all the grandparents around I'm quite sure she rarely had the chance to cry!
While she had a sweet disposition from the start...she's also always been a thinker. She would ask the most in depth questions. At times she almost seemed melancholy because she could sit in one place for hours. This would prove beneficial for the future hours she would spend doing homework, reading, writing stories and having move marathons with her friends. I am grateful that she's always enjoyed using her mind and imagination.
So it's possible that she might be a little dramatic! Ha! Just possible. Oh those little girl years. She didn't like pink, or dressing up, or having her hair brushed, or showering, or really anything that was, well, girlie. Jordyn loves to enjoy life. Music, books, movies, family, friends....she has so many different interests and immerses herself 100% to everything she does!
The ultimate big sister. Baby sitter. Protector. Homework helper and quite honestly, often, in her room hider. :) She loves her brothers (and her brothers and sister from her dad and step mom) While they drove her (ok, still drive her) crazy and love to pick on her...she would do anything for them and loves to give them advice and help them out. I don't know how our home would've functioned without her extra hands and help.
She's always loved to serve. She enjoys being able to help others. I see Jesus' love through her. In high school her relationship with Christ blossomed and poured out onto others as I saw her enjoy youth group, serve on missions trips, share the gospel with others, teach Sunday school, work at church and stay dedicated to growing closer to Him.
I thought that time was flying by when she graduated from high school...silly me what did I know! Jordyn made the decision to go to the University of Minnesota-Minneapolis. I remember many friends wondered if I was worried or if I would have prefered for her to have gone to a Christian university. Never. I knew she was heading to just the right place. It was a very prayed over decision. When we visited for orientation it was even further confirmed. An incredibly liberal school for an incredibly liberal girl. A diverse city for a young lady who had incredible love and devotion for all minorities. And as I thought, she found a great faith community that would afford her wonderful friends.
I love this girl so. And I can't believe she is 21 already. What an amazing gem of a person. What an incredible spirit. What a golden heart. As she begins her last year of school and then sets forth into the world, I am so excited to see where God is going to lead her. Praying that she listens to His voice, allows the Spirit to guide her steps no matter where they may take her and remains faithful to His call on her life.
Happy birthday Jordyn!!!
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Elijah's 15--whaaaaat???!!!???!!!
So Elijah is 15. This blows my mind. I am not sure where the last 15 years has gone. I look at this handsome guy and think...wow, what a ride so far!! This colicky baby that cried 4 hours a day the first months of his life...who would've thought he'd turn out to be one of the most easy going, free spirits you'd ever meet...lol!!
Sweet lil thing, wasn't he? Don't let those big ol' eyes fool you...lol...this boy cried and cried and cried!! I remember Marlon and I would pace back and forth, back and forth, taking turns holding him, rocking him. Marlon likes to say you could set your watch to it. 6pm every night...lol. We were willing to tr anything. ANYTHING! Grandma Calderon finally had the remedy. Rub olive oil on his belly, neck and ankles...wrap him tightly in a blanket, put on soothing music and put him to bed. Worked like a charm!
Elijah has always moved a million miles a minute since the day he was born. I can remember as a toddler...he would just run and run and run and run. In circles, up the stairs, after his brother, chasing a ball. It didn't matter--he was moving! It was not easy to keep up with him at times...lol. I remember when we'd go places-like the zoo, park, anywhere really we'd have to set a parameter. Holding his hand didn't work because he'd fight against it the entire way...so we learned that giving him a specific distance that if he stayed within he could walk alone, worked great. We used to say, 'You need to be within snatching distance...just in case we need to snatch you!" He wasn't afraid of anything or anyone.
Even at the age of 7 (as in this picture), he was already with the faces!! We have so many, hysterical pictures of this kid! He lives to make others laugh. It's such a gift. Because there is so much pain, anger, hurt in the world. But no matter what the circumstance...this kid somehow finds the silver lining, finds the way to stay positive, finds the way to bring joy. One time I was chaperoning a field trip of his and a little girl in his class asked, "Is Elijah always crazy at home too?" :) I was able to answer--why yes he is! He has this amazing wit and sharp mind. Always thinking. No filter. I pray that as he grows he continues to learn and remember that there are times we need to be serious. That it's okay sometimes to walk through the hurt without making jokes and that there are some people who do not appreciate humor. But I hope he never stops being himself. And never stops looking for the joy in life.
Elijah is a lover. He loves to cuddle. He loves to spend time with family and friends. He likes to make people happy. He's a good listener. This makes him a great friend. And it makes him easily wounded too. Even if he doesn't show it. Because when you wear your heart on your sleeve..it makes it a target. I love that he cares about others. I love that he knows when someone needs a hug. I love that he is affectionate and not afraid of showing it!
This is a kid that marches to his own drummer. Always has. And I hope always will. I love that he doesn't care what others think. That he does his own thing when it comes to fashion, music, style, etc. Urkel for Halloween. Complete with attitude and voice. That carried on for the rest of the day. And those glasses? Um, yeah. He wore them all day today. Funny voices. Silly songs. Crazy dances. He doesn't care if it's "in"...if he feels like doing it. Then he's doing it. Love that about him!
Love this kid. Blessed to be his mom. Amazed at the ways I see him grow and change and mature. Excited to see how his story is going to unfold. Grateful that I get to be a part of this life and so hope that our relationship stays close. Praying that he continues to look to God for strength and allows the Holy Spirit to guide and direct his steps.
The world is a much better place because he's in it.
That's what I got today.
Sweet lil thing, wasn't he? Don't let those big ol' eyes fool you...lol...this boy cried and cried and cried!! I remember Marlon and I would pace back and forth, back and forth, taking turns holding him, rocking him. Marlon likes to say you could set your watch to it. 6pm every night...lol. We were willing to tr anything. ANYTHING! Grandma Calderon finally had the remedy. Rub olive oil on his belly, neck and ankles...wrap him tightly in a blanket, put on soothing music and put him to bed. Worked like a charm!
Elijah has always moved a million miles a minute since the day he was born. I can remember as a toddler...he would just run and run and run and run. In circles, up the stairs, after his brother, chasing a ball. It didn't matter--he was moving! It was not easy to keep up with him at times...lol. I remember when we'd go places-like the zoo, park, anywhere really we'd have to set a parameter. Holding his hand didn't work because he'd fight against it the entire way...so we learned that giving him a specific distance that if he stayed within he could walk alone, worked great. We used to say, 'You need to be within snatching distance...just in case we need to snatch you!" He wasn't afraid of anything or anyone.
Even at the age of 7 (as in this picture), he was already with the faces!! We have so many, hysterical pictures of this kid! He lives to make others laugh. It's such a gift. Because there is so much pain, anger, hurt in the world. But no matter what the circumstance...this kid somehow finds the silver lining, finds the way to stay positive, finds the way to bring joy. One time I was chaperoning a field trip of his and a little girl in his class asked, "Is Elijah always crazy at home too?" :) I was able to answer--why yes he is! He has this amazing wit and sharp mind. Always thinking. No filter. I pray that as he grows he continues to learn and remember that there are times we need to be serious. That it's okay sometimes to walk through the hurt without making jokes and that there are some people who do not appreciate humor. But I hope he never stops being himself. And never stops looking for the joy in life.
Elijah is a lover. He loves to cuddle. He loves to spend time with family and friends. He likes to make people happy. He's a good listener. This makes him a great friend. And it makes him easily wounded too. Even if he doesn't show it. Because when you wear your heart on your sleeve..it makes it a target. I love that he cares about others. I love that he knows when someone needs a hug. I love that he is affectionate and not afraid of showing it!
This is a kid that marches to his own drummer. Always has. And I hope always will. I love that he doesn't care what others think. That he does his own thing when it comes to fashion, music, style, etc. Urkel for Halloween. Complete with attitude and voice. That carried on for the rest of the day. And those glasses? Um, yeah. He wore them all day today. Funny voices. Silly songs. Crazy dances. He doesn't care if it's "in"...if he feels like doing it. Then he's doing it. Love that about him!
Love this kid. Blessed to be his mom. Amazed at the ways I see him grow and change and mature. Excited to see how his story is going to unfold. Grateful that I get to be a part of this life and so hope that our relationship stays close. Praying that he continues to look to God for strength and allows the Holy Spirit to guide and direct his steps.
The world is a much better place because he's in it.
That's what I got today.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
This morning I am enjoying the house to myself. All children and hubby are off involved in some kind of activity away from home and so I asked if anyone cared whether or not I just sat at home. Yay. It's these quiet kind of mornings that this season of life doesn't afford me often...but so help me keep a calm that doesn't come naturally to me.
So I sit down to watch a couple of episodes of Our America with Lisa Ling. I love people, even though they often frustrate me. I love learning about why they live how they do, where they draw their lines in the sand and how they view and filter the world around them. I think it's part of what draws me to this show. Whether or not I agree with how someone is living their life, raising their children...there are times that I might find myself having very strong opposition to something that I see or having a strong reaction to it. This is usually a conviction of my own self. That happened this morning.
While watching an episode about pageant families I found myself becoming irritated and sad whenever one of the moms was on screen. Trying to figure out why I was having such a strong response I realized what it was about. The father had made it clear that he did not approve of this and that he didn't want his daughter to be a part of it and the mom basically just totally ignored his comments/opinion and went ahead and kept planning/preparing, etc. for the pageant.
When have I been that wife? Ladies, when have we chosen to ignore and disrespect our husbands?
Believe this. I am not talking about abuse and domination situations. As I've shared, I was in an abusive relationship and so I know that there are many other issues going on in those relationships.
But if I'm honest. Then there are many times that I've disrespected him through ignoring his viewpoint, rolling my eyes that he doesn't "get it" or simply circumvented him entirely by leaving him out of plans--especially things to do with the kids or the house. This is something that as a strong, independant woman happened often when we first got married. I'm much more conscious of it now and so quite honestly, I was suprised at how strongly I reacted. Because I realized what a long way I have to go. And I could almost hear God said, 'Got off your knees, huh?'
I love when God does that. Takes an area where I might start to feel self-righteous, like I've conquered shortcomings and then rips it wide open and reminds me...uh, yea, about that.
Oh, it's easy to justify. It's all around us. On TV, magazines, movies...relationships around us. But it's not an excuse because I know better. And when I stray from that. Then that's MY problem, my issue. Not his. And as a strong woman? It is wayyyy too easy to pass the buck.
If he didn't...
Well, he nevers...
But he always...
If I don't then...
Can you believe....
I know that...
I want him to...
He needs to...
Shame on us. Shame on me.
Marriage is hard. Being with a person for the rest of your life is hard. And there is great truth to respect and love. It's biblical. Men have a desire to be respected. Women have a need to be loved. This is not to say that men don't need love or women don't need respect. But innately, at the core, most men feel loved when they are respected. Most women feel respected if they are loved.
And I show such great disrespect when I circumvent his opinion, his involvement. Even over little things. And I do nothing to grow close to him when I focus on all of the ways he's not doing, being, acting as I'd like. Like a friend once told me...try for one week to not focus on how he's not meeting your needs but instead worry only about meeting his needs. When I am feeling frustrated or angry with my husband in general...THIS is usually where I need to start.
He is not perfect. And showing him respect as the leader of our home doesn't mean that he isn't accountable for his sin, behavior. To me, it means I am going to stand by him even then. I do not always behave in loveable ways. But I expect and hope that he is still going to love me. Why do we feel that respect is different?
I love my husband and I want him to know that I respect him. I would never want to disregard his thoughts or opinions because I think that I am 'right' or know better. I'm thankful that this morning I had opportunity to process through all of this and remind me what kind of wife I'm called to be. Kinda crazy that a tv show about pageant kids took me there. But that's the way it goes sometimes.
That's what I got today.
So I sit down to watch a couple of episodes of Our America with Lisa Ling. I love people, even though they often frustrate me. I love learning about why they live how they do, where they draw their lines in the sand and how they view and filter the world around them. I think it's part of what draws me to this show. Whether or not I agree with how someone is living their life, raising their children...there are times that I might find myself having very strong opposition to something that I see or having a strong reaction to it. This is usually a conviction of my own self. That happened this morning.
While watching an episode about pageant families I found myself becoming irritated and sad whenever one of the moms was on screen. Trying to figure out why I was having such a strong response I realized what it was about. The father had made it clear that he did not approve of this and that he didn't want his daughter to be a part of it and the mom basically just totally ignored his comments/opinion and went ahead and kept planning/preparing, etc. for the pageant.
When have I been that wife? Ladies, when have we chosen to ignore and disrespect our husbands?
Believe this. I am not talking about abuse and domination situations. As I've shared, I was in an abusive relationship and so I know that there are many other issues going on in those relationships.
But if I'm honest. Then there are many times that I've disrespected him through ignoring his viewpoint, rolling my eyes that he doesn't "get it" or simply circumvented him entirely by leaving him out of plans--especially things to do with the kids or the house. This is something that as a strong, independant woman happened often when we first got married. I'm much more conscious of it now and so quite honestly, I was suprised at how strongly I reacted. Because I realized what a long way I have to go. And I could almost hear God said, 'Got off your knees, huh?'
I love when God does that. Takes an area where I might start to feel self-righteous, like I've conquered shortcomings and then rips it wide open and reminds me...uh, yea, about that.
Oh, it's easy to justify. It's all around us. On TV, magazines, movies...relationships around us. But it's not an excuse because I know better. And when I stray from that. Then that's MY problem, my issue. Not his. And as a strong woman? It is wayyyy too easy to pass the buck.
If he didn't...
Well, he nevers...
But he always...
If I don't then...
Can you believe....
I know that...
I want him to...
He needs to...
Shame on us. Shame on me.
Marriage is hard. Being with a person for the rest of your life is hard. And there is great truth to respect and love. It's biblical. Men have a desire to be respected. Women have a need to be loved. This is not to say that men don't need love or women don't need respect. But innately, at the core, most men feel loved when they are respected. Most women feel respected if they are loved.
And I show such great disrespect when I circumvent his opinion, his involvement. Even over little things. And I do nothing to grow close to him when I focus on all of the ways he's not doing, being, acting as I'd like. Like a friend once told me...try for one week to not focus on how he's not meeting your needs but instead worry only about meeting his needs. When I am feeling frustrated or angry with my husband in general...THIS is usually where I need to start.
He is not perfect. And showing him respect as the leader of our home doesn't mean that he isn't accountable for his sin, behavior. To me, it means I am going to stand by him even then. I do not always behave in loveable ways. But I expect and hope that he is still going to love me. Why do we feel that respect is different?
I love my husband and I want him to know that I respect him. I would never want to disregard his thoughts or opinions because I think that I am 'right' or know better. I'm thankful that this morning I had opportunity to process through all of this and remind me what kind of wife I'm called to be. Kinda crazy that a tv show about pageant kids took me there. But that's the way it goes sometimes.
That's what I got today.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
3,2,1 what???
There's this mom I know. She has three litte guys, stairstep in age. 3, 2 and 1.
They are constantly moving. Running. Jumping. Screaming. Fighting. Pushing. Laughing. Crying.
One is almost always poking another in the eye.
One is almost always pulling on her clothes.
One is almost always trying to run away.
And she is frazzled. Beside herself.
Oh my do I relate.
Isaiah was born 5/20/96. Elijah was born 7/17/97. Israel was born 10/20/98.
It makes my head spin to think about now!
Today one of her son's threw a cup at someone because he was angry and she said, "I bet one of your boys would never have done that!" I laughed and told her, "Done that? They might do that NOW!"
But it got me thinking.
About being a mom.
And the stages we go through.
And what the 'world' tells us is "right".
I so want the women around me to know that there are no easy answers. I so want them to know that the trendy moms they see on TV shows who have things handled perfectly are not reflective of real life. Real life? Well, for some, that's nothing pretty.
Confession #1: I did not cherish every sweet moment. Quite honestly, I don't remember a ton of 98 or 99 athough I KNOW there were sweet moments in there! (I have pictures to prove it) I had three in diapers, a new husband, a young daughter and worked. I am not saying that as a badge of honor. In fact for a long time I felt bad that my kids had somehow missed out because I didn't nibble their toes every time I changed their diapers. In fact. We did diapering as an assembly line. If one was getting changed-everyone was getting changed!
Confession #2: I yelled and lost my cool. I once threatened to leave my 5,4 and 3 year old in the grocery store if they did not stop saying, "Momma". And I think I just might have been serious. I once snatched up two of my boys and marched them over to their dad at Chuck E. Cheese; shoved them at him and said, 'I need to leave before something goes through the window' and then walked out without another word. I once locked myself in the bathroom crying from despair as they knocked on the door wondering what was wrong. Which of course made me cry harder because they were so sweet. (ok. that happened more than once)
Confession #3: I likely neglected my daughter at pivotal times because of the three lil hooligans I had to chase after and the exhaustion I felt. She never complained. And she's loved me greatly in spite of it. I am so grateful that 5 years we had alone seemed to carry her over during the next 5 when I was likely a crazy woman. It always made me so thankful that she had her dad and his family so fully engaged in her life. I know that's not the norm. I do not know and likely never will know how that might've affected her.
Confession #4: I do not know how I did it. Now of course I give as encouragement...this stage will end, they won't always be in diapers, you won't always have to dress them, they will stop picking their nose. But at the time. It sure as heck did not seem like it. And I had a husband who was a big help, right in the trenches together. And. He was a big comfort to me and quite honestly kept me sane. But I do not know how because it seemed like it would never end.
I look at my kids now and I know that God equips and He makes beautiful things out of dust.
That's what I want to encourage moms with.
You will mess up. You will lose your cool. You will forget some milestones. You will want to run. You will be overwhelmed. You will leave your house unshowered. You will have throw up on you. You will cry. You will worry that you aren't doing it right. And there will be times you won't be.
But you get on your knees day after day and you ask Him for forgiveness and to give you what you need for the day. And time after time he does. And then some.
That's what I got today.
They are constantly moving. Running. Jumping. Screaming. Fighting. Pushing. Laughing. Crying.
One is almost always poking another in the eye.
One is almost always pulling on her clothes.
One is almost always trying to run away.
And she is frazzled. Beside herself.
Oh my do I relate.
Isaiah was born 5/20/96. Elijah was born 7/17/97. Israel was born 10/20/98.
It makes my head spin to think about now!
Today one of her son's threw a cup at someone because he was angry and she said, "I bet one of your boys would never have done that!" I laughed and told her, "Done that? They might do that NOW!"
But it got me thinking.
About being a mom.
And the stages we go through.
And what the 'world' tells us is "right".
I so want the women around me to know that there are no easy answers. I so want them to know that the trendy moms they see on TV shows who have things handled perfectly are not reflective of real life. Real life? Well, for some, that's nothing pretty.
Confession #1: I did not cherish every sweet moment. Quite honestly, I don't remember a ton of 98 or 99 athough I KNOW there were sweet moments in there! (I have pictures to prove it) I had three in diapers, a new husband, a young daughter and worked. I am not saying that as a badge of honor. In fact for a long time I felt bad that my kids had somehow missed out because I didn't nibble their toes every time I changed their diapers. In fact. We did diapering as an assembly line. If one was getting changed-everyone was getting changed!
Confession #2: I yelled and lost my cool. I once threatened to leave my 5,4 and 3 year old in the grocery store if they did not stop saying, "Momma". And I think I just might have been serious. I once snatched up two of my boys and marched them over to their dad at Chuck E. Cheese; shoved them at him and said, 'I need to leave before something goes through the window' and then walked out without another word. I once locked myself in the bathroom crying from despair as they knocked on the door wondering what was wrong. Which of course made me cry harder because they were so sweet. (ok. that happened more than once)
Confession #3: I likely neglected my daughter at pivotal times because of the three lil hooligans I had to chase after and the exhaustion I felt. She never complained. And she's loved me greatly in spite of it. I am so grateful that 5 years we had alone seemed to carry her over during the next 5 when I was likely a crazy woman. It always made me so thankful that she had her dad and his family so fully engaged in her life. I know that's not the norm. I do not know and likely never will know how that might've affected her.
Confession #4: I do not know how I did it. Now of course I give as encouragement...this stage will end, they won't always be in diapers, you won't always have to dress them, they will stop picking their nose. But at the time. It sure as heck did not seem like it. And I had a husband who was a big help, right in the trenches together. And. He was a big comfort to me and quite honestly kept me sane. But I do not know how because it seemed like it would never end.
I look at my kids now and I know that God equips and He makes beautiful things out of dust.
That's what I want to encourage moms with.
You will mess up. You will lose your cool. You will forget some milestones. You will want to run. You will be overwhelmed. You will leave your house unshowered. You will have throw up on you. You will cry. You will worry that you aren't doing it right. And there will be times you won't be.
But you get on your knees day after day and you ask Him for forgiveness and to give you what you need for the day. And time after time he does. And then some.
That's what I got today.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
What's color got to do with it?
I would like to start this post by saying this is my opinion and my experiences and things I recognize as being hindrances. I know that I can come across a little bold and angry. Some things make me angry. I am okay with this. You may not be okay with that. I understand and hope we can love each other anyway.
Just this past school year my son's class was "informed" by a teacher that the reason black people can run so well is because they have an extra muscle in thier leg.
Does this statement bother you? If so, why? If not, why not?
The class responded to it in various ways...some kids believing it. Some kids upset she would say something so ridiculous. Some kids questioning it.
Someone actually said they didn't understand why a few of the black kids were upset that she said this. Didn't they realize it was a compliment?
Even my own son, who is black incidentally and who has never heard such absurdity from us, came home and had to ask, that's not true-is it? His gut told him no...but he figured a teacher must know. Alas...we told him he's just a good athlete because he works hard-there's no magic extra muscle that's going to kick in
We see and hear statistics. And then we accept them.
We might even begin to form opinions as a result of them. And we blindly jump on bandwagons and make assumptions and spew out all kind of divisive thoughts. Often times because we do not engage in life with people who do not look like us, we can only base our viewpoints on statistics, the news, etc. because we have no real life experience.
Here is something you may have heard:
There is a higher percentage of minorities in prison than white people.
What do we do with this?
Do we accept that as truth and then leave it as that.....so that it subconsciously peppers our thinking? Do we question why it is true? I mean...are minorities more 'prone' to committing crimes? Could there be some merit to the line of thinking that our judicial system might be biased and quality counsel not readily available to everyone? Could minorities really just be lacking some moral conduct gene that makes them want to break the law? Do we really think that minorities commit more crimes than white people? Did you know that minority youth arrested for drug possession for the first time are incarcerated at a rate that is about 50% times greater than white youth arrested for the first time? Why?
Here are things I know to be true.
Racism exists. And it should matter to all of us to reach deep into the pits of our souls to examine our biases. Because it is an ugly truth that plagues our country and if white people continue to turn a blind eye to it....nothing changes.
It's of great detriment to bridging gaps for people to say things like, 'Why do they always have to bring race into it.' um. Who is 'they'? We can recognize that white privilege runs so deep that we often don't realize it is ingrained into our thinking.
'Slavery ended a long time ago...so why can't people just get over it.' The average person does realize this. Do you know the year? Especially those that are so quick to spout off this sentiment. Do you know the year? There are arguments that based on state laws that were put in place to block the Emancipation Proclamation of 1863 that it wasn't fully abolished until 1928. Also many don't think of or realize or maybe don't even know that Jim Crow laws and then segregation lasted a long long time after slavery ended. There were still lychings up to 1968. Not 1868. 1968. That is only 44 years ago. Um I'm going to be 41. This is not a long time people. Can we at least please acknowledge that? And can we acknowledge that there are many people groups who are racially discriminated against that aren't black.
Indigenous people groups. Latino people groups. Asian people groups. Middle Eastern people groups.
'People have the same opportunities and can be whatever they want' Anyone who thinks this statement is true has never set foot out of their comfort zone. Opportunity is not the same depending on the color of your skin. It should be and people of color must continue to break down walls. But opportunity is not the same.
'The color of your skin doesn't matter. We all bleed red.' Inherently we know this doesn't matter. Praise God that we are all created in His image and it doesn't matter what color you are or what your background it. But unfortunately many do not live as if this is true. The fact that you know minorities who are wealthy and educated is not proof that racism doesn't exist. And the fact that our President is black isn't proof of that either. Please believe that.
I could go on and on. I so love to think and pray and discover about people, justice, opportunity and lack of it...think and dream about what this world could be like if we just cared enough to educate ourselves on things we struggle with as much as things we enjoy.
I'm including some links to some wonderful articles/pieces that I think are of great value in reading. I pray they make you think. I know they have done that for me. Take from them what you will.
Diversity vs. White Privilege
What White People Can Do About Racism
America's Public Schools: Still Unequal and Unjust
Follow God where He leads. Just strap on the suitbelt for the ride.
Share. Give. Listen. Laugh. Pray. Grow
That's what I got today.
Just this past school year my son's class was "informed" by a teacher that the reason black people can run so well is because they have an extra muscle in thier leg.
Does this statement bother you? If so, why? If not, why not?
The class responded to it in various ways...some kids believing it. Some kids upset she would say something so ridiculous. Some kids questioning it.
Someone actually said they didn't understand why a few of the black kids were upset that she said this. Didn't they realize it was a compliment?
Even my own son, who is black incidentally and who has never heard such absurdity from us, came home and had to ask, that's not true-is it? His gut told him no...but he figured a teacher must know. Alas...we told him he's just a good athlete because he works hard-there's no magic extra muscle that's going to kick in
We see and hear statistics. And then we accept them.
We might even begin to form opinions as a result of them. And we blindly jump on bandwagons and make assumptions and spew out all kind of divisive thoughts. Often times because we do not engage in life with people who do not look like us, we can only base our viewpoints on statistics, the news, etc. because we have no real life experience.
Here is something you may have heard:
There is a higher percentage of minorities in prison than white people.
What do we do with this?
Do we accept that as truth and then leave it as that.....so that it subconsciously peppers our thinking? Do we question why it is true? I mean...are minorities more 'prone' to committing crimes? Could there be some merit to the line of thinking that our judicial system might be biased and quality counsel not readily available to everyone? Could minorities really just be lacking some moral conduct gene that makes them want to break the law? Do we really think that minorities commit more crimes than white people? Did you know that minority youth arrested for drug possession for the first time are incarcerated at a rate that is about 50% times greater than white youth arrested for the first time? Why?
Here are things I know to be true.
Racism exists. And it should matter to all of us to reach deep into the pits of our souls to examine our biases. Because it is an ugly truth that plagues our country and if white people continue to turn a blind eye to it....nothing changes.
It's of great detriment to bridging gaps for people to say things like, 'Why do they always have to bring race into it.' um. Who is 'they'? We can recognize that white privilege runs so deep that we often don't realize it is ingrained into our thinking.
'Slavery ended a long time ago...so why can't people just get over it.' The average person does realize this. Do you know the year? Especially those that are so quick to spout off this sentiment. Do you know the year? There are arguments that based on state laws that were put in place to block the Emancipation Proclamation of 1863 that it wasn't fully abolished until 1928. Also many don't think of or realize or maybe don't even know that Jim Crow laws and then segregation lasted a long long time after slavery ended. There were still lychings up to 1968. Not 1868. 1968. That is only 44 years ago. Um I'm going to be 41. This is not a long time people. Can we at least please acknowledge that? And can we acknowledge that there are many people groups who are racially discriminated against that aren't black.
Indigenous people groups. Latino people groups. Asian people groups. Middle Eastern people groups.
'People have the same opportunities and can be whatever they want' Anyone who thinks this statement is true has never set foot out of their comfort zone. Opportunity is not the same depending on the color of your skin. It should be and people of color must continue to break down walls. But opportunity is not the same.
'The color of your skin doesn't matter. We all bleed red.' Inherently we know this doesn't matter. Praise God that we are all created in His image and it doesn't matter what color you are or what your background it. But unfortunately many do not live as if this is true. The fact that you know minorities who are wealthy and educated is not proof that racism doesn't exist. And the fact that our President is black isn't proof of that either. Please believe that.
I could go on and on. I so love to think and pray and discover about people, justice, opportunity and lack of it...think and dream about what this world could be like if we just cared enough to educate ourselves on things we struggle with as much as things we enjoy.
I'm including some links to some wonderful articles/pieces that I think are of great value in reading. I pray they make you think. I know they have done that for me. Take from them what you will.
Diversity vs. White Privilege
What White People Can Do About Racism
America's Public Schools: Still Unequal and Unjust
Follow God where He leads. Just strap on the suitbelt for the ride.
Share. Give. Listen. Laugh. Pray. Grow
That's what I got today.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Abuse...
I hope that anyone reading my blog has realized through my posts that I certainly do not think I have the answers...at best, I somehow always seem to ask more questions!! Being inquisitive by nature and a learner by choice, I often find myself viewing life differently than many around me. Not better or worse...but different. And I know that my heritage, my crazy life before Christ, my raw way of seeing things can bring a different perspective than many. So. I share.
Abuse.
You could talk about abuse for days, weeks, months on end and still never put a dent into fully understanding the ramifications it has on an individual. There are so many kinds of abuse and so many individuals who have experienced some kind of abuse...I am one of them.
I certainly didn't set out to be in an abusive relationship. In fact, if anyone had told me prior to that relationship that I would be I would have laughed. I certainly wasn't "that" woman. That woman that is so dumb, so blind, so naive to what's really going on. But I was.
I actually didn't have a lot of relationship experience. A couple of very short, very high school relationships which weren't very "real" and then Jordyn's father. We were together quite some time, obviously very intimate and he had proposed. That was the depth of my knowledge when I first met this man.
Too clingy. Too nosy. Too demanding. Moving too quickly. I was only 20 and just out of a 2 year relationship I wasn't ready for full blown "wifey" status. We'll call him
Fred. I was able to cut my ties quickly because I moved to Whitewater, had my daughter and school to think about and wasn't ready. Whew.
What followed were several years of mass chaos and destructive behaviors with men. It aches my heart to know what I chose to be a part of and the negative that still at times affects me today. I share that simply to say that I believe it played a part of what led me to return to him. And also to acknowledge the amazing power of redemption.
As I slowly began to realize that being an 'around the way filet' might not be for me and certainly wasn't going to lead to anything meaningful Fred began to pop back up. Because I still went out in the same circles quite honestly he was always still there...I just didn't see him. But he began to pursue me. And because it was what I thought I was looking for at the time...I allowed myself to be pursued.
Our relationship moved quickly. And honestly, painfully. From the beginning there was emotional abuse. Withholding affection. Belittling. Name calling. But there were also some good times so you overlook. And you make excuses. And you choose to be blind. After all he wasn't physically abusing me.
That 'honeymoon' phase you read about...it's real. And so we got engaged. I know. Can't explain other than to say living a lie is very hard to come out of.
The first time he put his hands on me we were arguing over something. I can't even remember what. But whatever I said made him so mad that he grabbed me by my shoulders and slammed me into the kitchen wall. So hard that my shoulder blades left holes in it. I got so scared and angry myself that I began to grab his face and scratch him. So bad that I knicked his eye. This of course caused great drama at how angry and abusive I was that I would mark him and led to me apologizing over and over. The decision was made to get help.
That never got to happen before the second time. The second time is hard to write about even now. It began leaving a party celebrating my dance team's opening night of our show. It ended with me being unconscious in a lot next to our parking lot with him on top of me trying to revive me and the police arriving after a neighbor called them.
I never went back. After the hospital. The police station. My parent's fear. I couldn't. And I slowly began to come out of the fog.
Here's the piece I think that can make cycles. If you don't own up to your own part of the experience (now I'm not talking about child abuse where a child does not have control over the situation) and your choices in the situation....you are prone to repeat. And you are still living the lie.
The reality is that I don't know whether or not someone speaking up would have made a difference. After the fact several friends and family let me know that they were wondering what I was thinking and they were worried. Not one person said anything to me. It might not have mattered. It might have made me mad. It might have made me stop and think. I do not blame anyone. Not any of them. Not me and not even him. I see only the ramifications of our choices and why we need to so openly and honestly live. We need to ask the hard questions. We need to say things that aren't easy to say. We need to sometimes err on the side of hurt feelings to get to the truth. I never want to say 'I told you so'....but I never want to hear someone say 'Why didn't you say anything?'
Domestic abuse happens for a bunch of reasons and it hurts and hinders for a long time. Without Christ in my life to help show me how to forgive and live in freedom...I know I wouldn't be in a good marriage with a man I trust with the deepest, darkest parts of me. It creeps in from time to time....the fear, the worry, the worthlesness...but I know that is not of God and I know to claim those thoughts and give them to Him. I know that it is only by His grace.
Women in abusive relationships should know they can leave. They should be safe. They should put their kids first. They should know they are worth more than what they are getting. But sometimes they don't. And sometimes they can't see how. And sometimes they don't know any different. And it's easy to make it a made for TV movie or expose' on Primetime rather than a real woman living in real fear while searching for real love.
But real love is what she needs. The redemptive, powerful, forgiving, never ending well of love that Christ can offer and we as the body can show her.
We are salt and light. Where do we stand in the gap?
Share. Give. Listen. Laugh. Pray. Grow.
That's what I got today.
Abuse.
You could talk about abuse for days, weeks, months on end and still never put a dent into fully understanding the ramifications it has on an individual. There are so many kinds of abuse and so many individuals who have experienced some kind of abuse...I am one of them.
I certainly didn't set out to be in an abusive relationship. In fact, if anyone had told me prior to that relationship that I would be I would have laughed. I certainly wasn't "that" woman. That woman that is so dumb, so blind, so naive to what's really going on. But I was.
I actually didn't have a lot of relationship experience. A couple of very short, very high school relationships which weren't very "real" and then Jordyn's father. We were together quite some time, obviously very intimate and he had proposed. That was the depth of my knowledge when I first met this man.
Too clingy. Too nosy. Too demanding. Moving too quickly. I was only 20 and just out of a 2 year relationship I wasn't ready for full blown "wifey" status. We'll call him
Fred. I was able to cut my ties quickly because I moved to Whitewater, had my daughter and school to think about and wasn't ready. Whew.
What followed were several years of mass chaos and destructive behaviors with men. It aches my heart to know what I chose to be a part of and the negative that still at times affects me today. I share that simply to say that I believe it played a part of what led me to return to him. And also to acknowledge the amazing power of redemption.
As I slowly began to realize that being an 'around the way filet' might not be for me and certainly wasn't going to lead to anything meaningful Fred began to pop back up. Because I still went out in the same circles quite honestly he was always still there...I just didn't see him. But he began to pursue me. And because it was what I thought I was looking for at the time...I allowed myself to be pursued.
Our relationship moved quickly. And honestly, painfully. From the beginning there was emotional abuse. Withholding affection. Belittling. Name calling. But there were also some good times so you overlook. And you make excuses. And you choose to be blind. After all he wasn't physically abusing me.
That 'honeymoon' phase you read about...it's real. And so we got engaged. I know. Can't explain other than to say living a lie is very hard to come out of.
The first time he put his hands on me we were arguing over something. I can't even remember what. But whatever I said made him so mad that he grabbed me by my shoulders and slammed me into the kitchen wall. So hard that my shoulder blades left holes in it. I got so scared and angry myself that I began to grab his face and scratch him. So bad that I knicked his eye. This of course caused great drama at how angry and abusive I was that I would mark him and led to me apologizing over and over. The decision was made to get help.
That never got to happen before the second time. The second time is hard to write about even now. It began leaving a party celebrating my dance team's opening night of our show. It ended with me being unconscious in a lot next to our parking lot with him on top of me trying to revive me and the police arriving after a neighbor called them.
I never went back. After the hospital. The police station. My parent's fear. I couldn't. And I slowly began to come out of the fog.
Here's the piece I think that can make cycles. If you don't own up to your own part of the experience (now I'm not talking about child abuse where a child does not have control over the situation) and your choices in the situation....you are prone to repeat. And you are still living the lie.
The reality is that I don't know whether or not someone speaking up would have made a difference. After the fact several friends and family let me know that they were wondering what I was thinking and they were worried. Not one person said anything to me. It might not have mattered. It might have made me mad. It might have made me stop and think. I do not blame anyone. Not any of them. Not me and not even him. I see only the ramifications of our choices and why we need to so openly and honestly live. We need to ask the hard questions. We need to say things that aren't easy to say. We need to sometimes err on the side of hurt feelings to get to the truth. I never want to say 'I told you so'....but I never want to hear someone say 'Why didn't you say anything?'
Domestic abuse happens for a bunch of reasons and it hurts and hinders for a long time. Without Christ in my life to help show me how to forgive and live in freedom...I know I wouldn't be in a good marriage with a man I trust with the deepest, darkest parts of me. It creeps in from time to time....the fear, the worry, the worthlesness...but I know that is not of God and I know to claim those thoughts and give them to Him. I know that it is only by His grace.
Women in abusive relationships should know they can leave. They should be safe. They should put their kids first. They should know they are worth more than what they are getting. But sometimes they don't. And sometimes they can't see how. And sometimes they don't know any different. And it's easy to make it a made for TV movie or expose' on Primetime rather than a real woman living in real fear while searching for real love.
But real love is what she needs. The redemptive, powerful, forgiving, never ending well of love that Christ can offer and we as the body can show her.
We are salt and light. Where do we stand in the gap?
Share. Give. Listen. Laugh. Pray. Grow.
That's what I got today.
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