Successful Failure, or Failing Success? Or Who Cares? (Can’t pick a title!) November 29, 2007

Joy very kindly bestowed an award upon me the other day – the highlight of my week!  I blog for very selfish reasons, but I am glad that others are able to glean something from what I type.  I will get back to that award and write more about it later.  I have too many other things pressing in right now, but thank you, Joy!  The fact that I make you laugh amazes me considering your fantastic sense of humor!

I’ve been quiet the last couple of days because I really don’t know what to say.  I have come face to face with the fact that I have to completely rethink life – completely and thoroughly.   I have been doing that for the last 18 months, beginning with the book So You Don’t Want To Go To Church Anymore.  However, my old and cloudy vision is still very much in place.  Let me explain.

I worked for five hours the other night.  I was scheduled to be there for 6 1/2 hours, but I left early.  I fought and clawed my way through those five hours, and ended up in a pool of exhaused and embarrassed tears in the break room.  I felt like a colossal failure.  The next day I briefly felt very successful that I had even lasted five hours.  I allow my emotions to dictate so much, but I also realized that my definitions of things are way off, especially when applied to myself.  If someone else was telling me this exact story about him/herself, I would rejoice with them that they got out there and tried something new and that they fought for it without throwing in the towel at the first sign of trouble.  Okay, so why does that not apply to me.  One of two things must be true: I believe myself to be better than everyone else and therefore must live by a “higher” standard, or I believe myself worthy of harsh and abusive treatment (which I dole out to myself).

I also realized that I feel responsible for everyone else: their emotions, happiness, etc.  So when I told the manager who was still there that I could no longer stay, I felt this terrible sense of guilt.  I could tell that he was very busy stocking the shelves, and my leaving was going to cost him.  The work ethic that was drilled into me growing up on the dairy farm was butting heads with the reality that I could not complete my job.  I could not follow through, and I was costing someone else.

So what is success?  What is failure?  Do either of them really matter – I mean really matter?  Success is nice, but most of my successes in life didn’t really teach me a lot except to keep doing that which brought me success.  It usually isn’t an agent for change. 

Even more than that, can I live with the fact that my flaws and “worth” (I now hate that word when applied to people thanks to Donald Miller writing about love and monetary values in Blue Like Jazz) are no more or less than anyone else’s?  I don’t have to perform better.  And I don’t have to earn love because the One who created this cracked pot already loves me.  Is that okay with me?  Can I just chill?  Honestly, I wouldn’t treat my dog the way I treat myself.

Losing My Patience – Sorry Papa November 26, 2007

It seems that every time I sit down to write recently, things have been so dramatic.  Is it my perception only that makes it seem that way, or are things actually a little dramatic for me right now?  I feel like my friend Sue – discombobulated. 

I posted recently about starting a new job in a grocery store.  My first night training on the cash register was the night before Thanksgiving.  At first I thought they had lost their blooming minds!   The place was crazy busy.  However, I actually found the customers to be very patient (except for one that I choose to forgive for her snottiness), and the time flew. 

On my next shift, my hiring manager informed me that his intention is to train me to work in the office with the cash.  Yippee!  In order to do that, I need to learn the system inside and out.  No problem!

So I went in on Saturday to keep learning the system.  It was a fun morning interacting with customers.  I’ve been raising children for 7 1/2 years and have not interacted like this with the public since my oldest was born.  I was actually enjoying myself.  I even waited on Cynthia’s husband.

Then – WHAM!  Panic attack!  I struggled through a couple more customers somehow without screaming at them to hurry up with their stinking credit and debit cards and get out!  I turned off my light, told the supervisor I wasn’t feeling well, and hid in the ladies’ room for a little while.  I tried to calm down and get out there again, but I just couldn’t.

So what now, dear blog friends?  Every time this insidious battle moves into another area of my life, I have to fight like hell to regain it.  I can’t very well ask the customers to hang on a minute while I stop hyperventilating.  A couple of them looked at me like I was acting strangely, and I’m sure they were right.  With  my shaky hands and sweaty temples, I looked guilty of something.

It was a crushing blow.  How do I let it remain a temporary blow and not a defeat?  After 3 1/2 years, I’m still left with so few answers.  I know that all of my answers lie in Father.  He knows my needs.  I don’t believe that He is into hiding answers from me.  So why can’t I hear them?  If He’s working on a “need to know basis,” I feel a little bit beyond the needing to know part.  What do some of you do when you are crying out for years and feel like you are spinning your wheels?  I know more now than ever that I am profoudly loved by the One who made me.  I just wish He would hurry up and fix me!

7 Random Things About Myself November 21, 2007

Sue has tagged me. 

Here are the rules I’m supposed to post:

1. Link to the person’s blog who tagged you.
2. Post these rules on your blog.
3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.
4. Tag seven random [?] people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog

To be honest, I probably won’t do steps 4 and 5.  I just don’t know who to tag.  Typing mundane things about myself is easy, though.

So, to the random things:

1.  I grew up on my grandparents’ dairy farm.  Yes, I drove a tractor, milked cows, and put up hay.  I have been pooped on by a cow (I was standing behind her when she coughed).  However, I wouldn’t trade this kind of childhood for anything.  I had a playground of 180 acres and my imagination was quite unlimited back then.

2. I have a chocolate problem.  It is seriously a problem.  I have called my husband at work in desperation yelling at him to tell me where the chocolate was that I told him to hide.  Not a pretty sight.

3. I have loved Jesus for as long as I can remember.  I lived like a heathen for a while, but I would still tell you that I loved Jesus.  It was that Father character that I was suspicious of.  Thankfully, that has been worked out and I love Father now, too!  But only because I let Him love me first.

4. My husband is the third person I was engaged to.  It would seem that I had trouble saying no to the wrong guys when they opened a ring box and popped the question.  I knew immediately that I wouldn’t be marrying the first two.  Thankfully, I have learned a powerful two-letter word since then: “No.”  When my husband asked, I knew he was a keeper.

5. Throughout my life, people have been confused about my ethnicity.  It was confusing when I first left the dairy farm and had that happen, and I even began to wonder if I was adopted (I wasn’t).  Genetics are an amazing thing!

6. I love dogs but not so much domestic cats.  Cats are interesting, but they make me sneeze.  I love big cats, though!  They are truly beautiful.  The day I found out that tigers were extremely endangered, I remember crying.

7. When I was 22, I left home and moved over 500 miles away.  Within four years of my moving, my parents and sisters were all living within 30 minutes of me.  So much for running away!

 Well, that was fun.  I probably needed to post something cheerier after the last couple!

November 20, 2007

I know you are all just aching to know how my first day of work went at the grocery store.  After all, what I have to say and how I experience life is just soooo interesting.

In order to fully appreciate the work experience, you have to understand the day.  It began with a sick 2-year-old and a call to the doctor’s office.  Once the appointment was made, I gave Nathan his school assignments that he could handle on his own.  Fifteen minutes later, Nathan informed me that he could not do his work because he “lost” his pencils.  I said, “No problem, here are two more.”  Fifteen minutes later he came to me and said that the eraser was stuck in the pencil sharpener.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my 7 1/2 year old purposely jammed the pencil sharpener by sticking the pencil in eraser first.

After my tremendously ugly moment, I told him that he had two seconds to find the pencils he had “lost.”  They were found immediately.  He then proceeded to do his assignments only because Mom was really angry.

At the doctor’s appointment, Nathan was lying on the waiting room floor and would not get up.  Of course we had an audience – this is the time of year when doctor’s offices are full.  Blessedly, our name was called and he finally got up.

Brianna was diagnosed quickly, though painfully.  Those finger pricks are the worst.  It seems that she has a repeat condition that is going to require further testing – possibly invasive testing.  Lord, could it be me instead?  I would take her place.

We leave the doctor’s office and I head to the department store to purchase a white shirt.  Yes, they asked me to wear a white shirt for my first week working in a grocery store.  Where is the sense in that?  Besides, I’m a mom of young children.  I don’t wear white.  Nathan side-tracked us at the store with a trip to the restroom, and I stood outside holding Brianna’s fevered 31 pounds against me.  When we finally returned to the correct department and I found my shirt, Nathan announced that he needed to use the restroom again.  I told him that he needed to wait because I was almost finished.  Two minutes later, I couldn’t find him anywhere.

When you can’t find your child, your brain stops working.  He has done this to me before, and my brain stops each time.  A “Code Yellow” was announced and people came running asking for a description.  What does he look like?  Think, think!  Oh, yes, now I remember!  After a few scary moments and me in tears, a woman came up and said that she saw a young boy running to the restroom holding himself.  I knew immediately.  Scary moment over.

So, in all honesty I must confess that my first evening of work was a wonderful escape from a day gone awry.  Would someone please remind me why I stopped the anti-depressants?! 

Ranting a Little November 18, 2007

The IKEA saga continues…

We opened the boxes of our new and beautiful furniture to assemble it.  The chairs are great, the table is beautiful, but what’s that??  A big freaking blemish on the table?!!!  Who put it in the box that way, sold it to us, and let us bring it home 2 1/2 hours?  I called them today.  “I’m sorry ma’am but you’ll have to bring it back with the receipt.”  Thanks.

In the past, I would have seen this as God doling out punishment somehow for something.  But you know what?  Sometimes s— really does happen. 

Oh, and I just got a job in a grocery store.  Got hired today and start tomorrow.  So I don’t know how well I’ll do at keeping up with my regular blog friends.  I have the kids all day, then I’ll go in a few evenings a week until close and some hours on the weekend.  You know, we need more money because we need more stuff!

Okay, I’m obviously in a mood.  Maybe I should delete this.  Nah!

P.S.  On a positive note, my dear son finally mastered riding his bicycle today.  I worked with him for two hours, then we rode the neighborhood together.  It was fabulous!

Feeling Hypocritical November 17, 2007

Yes, I blogged the other day about our appetite for more stuff.  The American Dream – greed, stuff, heaviness, stress.  It’s quite a cycle.  The day after I blogged about it, my family and I drove 2 1/2 hours to the nearest IKEA.  If you’ve never been to IKEA before, it reminds me of the Veggie Tales video titled Madame Blueberry.  She goes to Stuff Mart and buys so much crap that her house breaks under the weight of her new purchases.  That’s IKEA.  I love IKEA.

We are hosting Christmas for our extended family, and I had no dining room furniture.  I had to have it.  So we went.  Instead of lambasting myself for this trip the day after my high and mighty post, I have mostly laughed.  I found my dining room furniture which will be used a lot.  We love having people over.  We could have lined up a bunch of card tables and chairs, but the effect just wouldn’t have been the same.  I needed the real furniture!

While I had been purusing the IKEA catalogue, there have apparently been a lot of Woot-offs going on.  If you haven’t heard of Woot and you are a tech junkie, don’t even go in search of that site (I know you’re doing it – stop!).  My husband drives me nuts.  When they are having Woot-offs, he literally has me checking the site while he’s at work to see if anything good comes up.  Pretty silly considering that I am technologically challenged.  Why he watches it so much when he’s only made one purchase from it that I can remember is beyond me.  It does get a little exciting though with the sirens going off alerting you that the item is almost sold out and you must hurry!!

I feel like I am rambling now.  Anyway, I just needed to confess my hypocrisy after my last post.  I feel better already.  Better yet, even my hypocrisy and driving 2 1/2 hours just to buy furniture cannot separate me from Father’s love. 

American Dream? November 15, 2007

What is it about this “American Dream” that we Americans feel entitled to?  And at what cost are we willing to achieve it?

Let me explain.  I was raised like most other Americans with the knowledge that if you want to eat, you work.  The best scenario of all is that you work, get rich, and have a bunch of stuff that is ultimately meaningless in the end.  Oh, and your waistline expands because most of what you eat is junk.  So then you have to make more money so that you can join a gym to work off the junk that you eat since most of us in this country don’t perform physical labor anymore. 

My husband learned the lesson from his parents as well.  His dad worked two jobs and went to school at night.  He barely saw him.

I definitely have more now than I grew up with.  I look at what my kids have and my heart actually sinks.  I watched Finding Neverland for the first time tonight, and I wonder if my 7-year-old son can even still relate to such pretend.  He has so many gadgets that he doesn’t have to pretend.  I remember listening to Peter Pan on a vinyl record when I was his age.  I went to Neverland.

I assumed that when I went to school, earned my good grades, graduated from college, and married my engineer husband that we would be climbling the ladder of our own American Dream.  What I have found is that none of this crap really fills anything in my life.  It’s not evil stuff – the stuff is amoral.  It just doesn’t satisfy the thirst of my soul.  And the managing of more and more only adds stress.  It really is more like the American Disillusionment.

My heart’s cry is that Father would help my husband and I out of this vicious cycle and into His abundance that has nothing to do with the clutter around me. 

Strange Dreams November 10, 2007

I’ve been having some very strange dreams lately, and that in itself is unusual for me.  It’s probably not odd for me to dream, it’s just that I usually don’t remember them.

Two of my dreams recently have involved tornadoes.  I don’t know why.  I have never been in a tornado, and I don’t live in an area that gets that many of them.  In one of my tornado dreams, I was desperately trying to get my loved-ones to realize that there was a tornado coming straight for us.  Herding everyone into a safe place was so frustrating since they weren’t paying any attention to me.  As soon as we would all be in the best spot in the house, another scenario would start back up again with us in another location and nobody listening again.  Needless to say, I woke up tired.

In my other tornado dream we were all outside.  I think maybe we were camping, which I haven’t done in years.  We could see the tornadoes coming (there were more than one) and the only thing we could think to do was cling to the bases of the trees.  I’ve never heard that advice given out.  I’ve seen trees uprooted in conditions less than a tornado, but this was my dream and that’s what happened.  We were scared but all survived, clinging to the trees with everything swirling up around us.

Today I took a nap.  I’m not normally one to nap but I’m fighting something off.  In this dream it was a bear.  There was a bear prowling the neighborhood eating small pets and trying to eat the kids.  Well, the bear came after me (everyone else was inside).  The details are a bit sketchy, but it ended up in my house and I tackled it.  It must have been a very young bear.  Here I was, tackling and trying to keep this bear pinned, and no one was helping!  My dad, husband, and sisters’ husbands were all in this dream – just watching me fight the bear.  My mom was trying to call animal control or a vet, and no one was answering.  When I woke up, my hand was asleep where I was pinning him down.

If I’m working this hard in my sleep, no wonder I’m tired!!  These dreams are no doubt trying to tell me something, but I need some real rest to figure it out.

Some Grumblings… November 8, 2007

I feel like complaining today…  just to forewarn you.

This medication detox is terrible.  I feel rather like when you’ve been sleeping wrong on your hand and realize that you have cut off the circulation to it.  When the blood starts flowing properly again – OUCH!  That’s how my entire being feels right now.

We were driving down a busy road in town last night, and I kept having that feeling you get when you are at the top of a giant hill on a roller coaster and the bottom suddenly drops out.  I had that feeling every fifty feet down the road.  It was almost fun the first two times, but after that I was ready to jump out the door and run back home.  Too much sensation at once.  How could I not have noticed that I had been so numb?

Worst of all, I am seeing that I am not the sweet, patient parent that I had been over the last several months.  They really do irritate me at times.

I am really almost desperate to take the stuff again, but I know in my heart that it’s not the answer for me.  Besides, I so much enjoy not having cotton mouth all the time now!  I wonder why anti-depressants dry up all of your spit??  Deep thought for the day.

Open Heart Surgery November 7, 2007

I am FINALLY listening to the Transitions teachings.   What is up with me?  I’ve been crying the whole way through it.  I’m not usually weepy for no reason, and I’ve heard a good bit of this from The God Journey podcasts.  Father must be doing some serious surgery!

 If anyone happens across this blog and you have no idea what I’m talking about, the download is free and it will transform your life.  Just click above and prepare to discover Father’s love like you’ve never heard it taught before.