That's why it's called a shortcut. If it were easy, it would just be "the way".

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Seven Year Blog Itch

Since childhood I have had a sense of things to come, a harbinger in my soul. It's intuition that often plays off as empathy although my antenna for someone's mental state is usually assessed quickly. As a child, this made me highly manipulative with usual success at gaining my goals. As a teenager, I tried to fix all the broken people and ended up broken myself. It's as if I have an invisible tether to something I cannot quite explain and I have had it from my earliest memories. An awareness that things are connected, that things are not what they seem, and that sometimes things are not to be done with logic as much as with that gut feeling. This last week, I stopped in the shop to see Jeremy and Pastor Randy was there. He was bouncing ideas around for this passage in Ephesians that's talks about how Christians main struggle is not with tangible things, people and ideals but rather something much bigger, the spiritual realm. I was sort of surprised to hear a Baptist dude talking and openly giving credence to all that goes on in life that's just not visible to us. I mean, it's clearly in the Bible but it can be a tricky thing so sometimes people like to brush the tough or weird stuff under the rug. For me, not only is my struggle with things unseen, maybe like jealousy or fear that gives to panic, laziness, bitchiness (I know that's not in the Bible but I certainly suffer from it somedays) but it seems deeper that I am like a weather vane and something grabs me and I can know things more than if I had facts and experience that got me there. This is getting more personal and weird so if you're still reading, either it's like watching a train wreck or there's something here you identify with. I'll plunge on further. Growing up I thought I had ESP. I knew things with clarity and conviction before they happened. Being raised in a conservative church, ESP was of the Devil and I didn't want to be tainted so I pretty much ignored this part of myself. I have some really weird stories I could tell you over coffee or a beer sometimes but let's say that even though I ignored my connection to the unseen it didn't always ignore me. Then fast-forward to about late 20s when I stumbled into a charismatic church. Man did I love that church! God was so alive. So real! So refreshing. Things in the Bible were not old stories. God is living and moving and still powerful. I seriously can't believe I'm sticking all of this in a blog. But basically, there was a night after a pretty great church event that I lay in bed and thinking of a verse that reminded me of another Bible verse and my whole thought process took on this otherworldly perspective. It was if the words that I learned from pages were suddenly alive and linked and this organism that all made sense. The vibrancy of that episode still sits with me today. It was kind of like the beginning of a second awakening. What I discovered is that some churches (like the one I was attending) believe in the Holy Spirit and that what the Holy Spirit did through people of the early church was completely possible to do through the church of today. With a very verdant, live, and rich spiritual soil I was in during that season I found my so called ESP actually had a place in Scripture and had a purpose. Ahem. When I pray for people God puts on my heart, I suddenly see and know so many things God wants to reveal to their hearts. Some call it the "Gift of Knowledge" or "Prophecy" but one thing I figured out is that it was not of the devil. Also, when I'm with people who accept this way of God using His people, my acumen increases. My depth of knowledge, frequency and details gets bigger. Again I have so many stories I could tell but maybe in another blog but over coffee anytime! To keep this shorter than a Tom Clancy novel I will tell you where I am now. I am in a multi-year season of hard pruning. My gift is pretty dormant right now as far as one on one revelations. My intuition is still off the charts and I often make no sense to anyone because of it. The reason I wrote this long, personal story (that I am sure many people would doubt or scoff at anyway) is because I wanted to state my intent. I have an idea that I thought I could start "someday" but I realized that those somedays don't always come. By forcing all these words as a small beginning, maybe it's the first step on a path. The path is simply my recent impression that tells me that maybe I'm to help others who have this same peculiarity and help them connect in a healthy, powerful way. The truth is I firmly believe the ability for this crazy intuition, word of knowledge or prophetic bent, whatever you would call it..I believe the source was hardwired into me by God and the true, most pure way of being a conduit for this is by going to the source. Therefore, I conversely believe that this gift can be plugged into other power outlets (if you will) that can greatly tarnish or harm the person who carries the peculiarity because it is sort of facinating, it is prevelant in the occult, and when mishandled I've seen "psychic" after psychic have their personal relationships blow apart and they live almost more of a gypsy life and are separated from others because of the proclivity instead of made stronger in long-term powerful and meaningful relationships. This is not how (I believe) God intended for people to go about His business in this particular arena. I'm pulling up short because that's probably a lot of mumbo jumbo for most people to take in. Yet, for those who identify with what I'm saying, this weird post is for you. I will be exploring and sharing more about some lessons I've learned and maybe call it "best practices" or a "blueprint" to help you learn more about how this crazy intuition fits into your life and how to be mentally, emotionally, and relationally healthy while practicing your gift. Not sure if the next step is just one more blog or some ongoing discussion or what. If nothing else, I will have followed my intuition so as always, I'll just hang on and follow the proverbial path. HMU in comments. Let the tin foil memes begin! 😄

Monday, November 22, 2010

I No Longer Have Teens to Try This Stuff On...

Life is short. We of all people should know that. There is no guarantee of tomorrow. It's today. Today, this moment, the present choice that counts. It's not what you plan to do when you grow up, retire, get "that" job, have a family, have kids, move. It's all now that matters, this moment. 

But what about my friends, my relationship, my coworkers? What about school? I have too much going on. My responsibilities are too much. I can't quit now. I have to ease from one life to another. 

Maybe for you the excuses aren't the present variety but the past. 

If you only knew. I'm holding back because of my:

The way people treated me
Lack of Opportunity

Jesus said, leave what you are doing this moment and follow me. For some, it's the things you love holding you back. For others, the responsibilities of life trap you into feeling like you can't do anything. And some want to never get up & move because the past taught them they cant love, they can't trust or there will be "someday" to do what they should. Luke 9:57-62

There are 3 stumbling blocks for people to follow Jesus in this passage: possessions/security, people they don't want to let go of now (shown by needing to say goodbye to family), and the past/responsibility (shown by needing to bury someone).

Here's my challenge. Wipe away all of the excuses. Forget the past (and press on to what God has called you to), remember that the people are not more important than Jesus. Disregard how you will get where you are going. Just go. This is the only moment you have. 


Friday, March 06, 2009

The Blanket

I don't know how to sit still and be quiet.

Writing was my way to focus my thoughts, still my mind and quiet my soul. Once I had Karsten, I stopped writing. Not only did I stop blogging, I stopped journaling. I used to journal my prayers, my conversations with God. Now most of my conversatons with God are done on the freeway at 85 MPH, in between tasks and duties or while playing with my son, amazed at who he is.

Busy-ness is a poison that robs the soul of beauty. When I cannot take time to stop and reflect, to channel my emotions, impressions and feelings through to my Maker everything gets too busy. I get so busy that even when my son manages to get my attention and we are sitting on the floor without the TV on, two other projects playing out and things needing to be done, I suddenly have to go pee or I remember the forgotten load of laundry in the washing machine.

I do not rest.

It's not so much fixing the 100s of tasks I have to complete in a day. It's not reducing the amount of hours I work. It's not cutting out anything.

It is making time for something.

It's making time to sit in a place and rest. Rest with my weary thoughts, my heavy load, my joyful moments, my new experiences. It is feeding my roots so deep in the ancient path of the Word of God that will slow everything else down so I can grasp every moment in every task that is laid before me. If I try to do every task and then stop, I will continue to run, to pant and to grow weary. If I start off in the depth of ancient wisdom, seek out paths that my soul craves and explore the beauty of the life I have been gifted with, I will find rest. I will be at peace.

This is my pause. This is my break. This is what truly binds my life together, encompasses every detail. I must take time to acknowledge the Maker of it all and see the beauty in the weaving he is creating through my life. As I stop to see where He is taking me and watch how He pulls it all together, I can finally rest in the knowledge that I am right where I need to be.

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

Recounting SLIP: Part II

I met 'Boy with Sweaty Hands' and 'Creepy Sidekick' within an hour after being permanently left at SLIP forever. Well, if forever meant until Labor Day, then forever. At any rate, watching the brake lights to my dad's car before he turned onto the main road and drove way gave a sense of finality to the fact that I was starting a new journey in life. I was stuck. I think my parents established an 800# at home while I was away so I could call but there was no way I was wimping out. I'm way too tough. After my dad's car faded into a heat wave behind a wall of traffic, I turned to my dorm room.

I felt the walls closing in as I began to unpack my meager belongings. My roommate had shown up with her ultra-preppy belongings as if she had just come from the country club after finishing her tennis lessons and refreshing herself with a cool glass of iced tea with a sprig of mint. Looking back, I'm mildy surprised that an entourage of pool boys did not carry her well organized boxes, freshly done dry cleaning and down comforter in to the room. She reminded me of a 55 year old in an 18 year old body. Her parents lived in Malaysia for a lot of her teenage years as her dad was a "muckitymuck" for his company. She drove a Lexus with leather interior. She was a college student. I had no car. I would later find out that her car was nicer than even the staff and faculty at SLIP. I think she left her silver spoon at home. "Spoons" was my roomie.

After being in the same room with her for about ten minutes, I was ready for some fresh air. I decided to wander away from my dorm room with all the unpacked belongings. Procrastination becomes an art form in college. I started early.

I opened the door to the dorms and stepped into blinding, hot, white light. A heat wave rolled over me and instantly every pore of my body poured forth sweat. Luckily, I'm a girl and I only glisten and it smells rosy.

I descended the stairs and turned to my right. I know now I should have turned left. 'Boy with Sweaty Hands' and 'Creepy Sidekick' were about five paces to my right and closing in. There they were, physically looking somewhat like Laurel and Hardy. Their personalities were not nearly as cool or amusing. Creepy Sidekick started in by introducing himself. He had a weird smile plastered on his face and looked at me as if I were his long lost best friend. After saying "Hello" and giving my name, I felt like I was expected to say or do something more than the occasion called for. Awkward. I stood there with nothing more to say and they stood staring at me. They had the look in their eyes that boys get when they want to be dashing and daring but end up saying something like, "I'm madly in love with a school boy."

No exaggeration, as soon as I was able to extricate myself from the moment of great awkwardness and continue to peruse the grounds solo (not that they boys hadn't offered to escort me), I realized that my unnamed fears of not being able to relate to anyone at this Conservative Christian school may be very, very well founded.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Recounting SLIP: Part I

My dad drove me to SLIP. I think perhaps it felt a bit like summer camp. My meager belongings were crammed into his car for the drive to a new place where I had apprehensions about the people I would meet and what this would be like.

I vaguely remember as I arrived and registered, I was recruited to play volleyball. Growing up I vehemently opposed any form of action that required coordination. In high school, I was heavily recruited by the basketball and volleyball coach to play in sports. I am tall. I am not coordinated. I had a huge fear of making a fool of myself. I'm good at making a fool of myself without moving and having objects whizzing about. I tried to put the person at the registration desk off but they were having none of it. I figured I was trying something completely new in life, and as I had a new found respect for myself due to a good decision about eight weeks earlier, I decided "What the heck!". I agreed to at least show up for the first practice.

As I walked out of the main building with my room assignment and papers in hand, I felt a knot form in my stomach as I pondered what kind of person the school assigned me to live with and what it would all be like. I also realized as I read the list of college rules, none of my clothes fit into the school's dress code. Let's say I had a bit of a "working lady" wardrobe happening as I was quite fit, men liked me and I liked to be noticed. This was great when walking around my small hometown with the bottom of my butt cheeks hanging out of my shorts, barley concealed behind the ruffles sewn on the hems but not so much when a person joins a small Christian school. These are the things I did not really consider when deciding on SLIP.

I was committed. I had already paid the registration fee and filled out the FAFSA Forms. My dad was proud. There was no turning back.

Luckily, my first test of this resolve was not until after I had placed my belongings into my room and my dad took me on a shopping spree to deck out my dorm room and then left me there.

It was just after that that I encountered my first serious doubts about having decided upon this course of action for my life. I met 'Boy with Sweaty Hands' and 'Creepy Sidekick'.

To Be Continued.

Set the Stage

I have decided to undertake a writing project for as long as I'm interested in finishing it out and depending on how well I can recollect little stories from my past. My memory used to be razor sharp, now it is a bit more loose than that. I'll try to pull some gems out and dust them off and place them in a way you can appreciate. We will see how it goes!

I'm specifically targeting about 2 years of my life when I attended a small college in the U.S. We shall call it Small School with Lots of Interesting People. That's a little long. SSLIP? Haha. Yes. SLIP!

I think I will start at the beginning with SLIP: Day 1. Or maybe a prequel? Hmmmm....

Sunday, February 22, 2009


I am just wondering if anyone else feels the way I do?

I don't fit in. Anywhere. Not completely anyway. I am a mom and I often feel completely inadequate in that realm. I work and often don't have enough hours to be successful at the job (sales). As a wife, I am often forgetful of my husband's needs or too tired to even care. At church, I am not the Proverbs 31 wife. I am not patient. I like to sleep in. I frequently am caught being snarky. Anyway, I just don't feel like I fit in.

To add insult to injury, I have to go through a class on a book called "Captivating" which describes the universal heart of a woman and how that fits into God's plan. Now, my brain often gets in the way of understand the subject matter, especially when the case that is built upon a questionable foundation. Such is the case of Captivating. The thing is, it has valid points but my brain is so busy trying to justify what they are saying, that I miss the whole point for the holes in the logic.

To compound the issue, I don't relate to women in general. I only had a best friend or two at a time growing up. The rest of the people I hung out with were usually guys. I thought other girls were mean and catty. When I started college, my impression on other females started to change as I was in a dorm with 40 other females. Turns out women are a great part of life. Being a mom now, I don't know what I would do without other moms. The most tender and nurturing people in my life are women. I aspire to be more like many of them.

However, Captivating seems to draw out this femininity factor in other women I think I was made without. Or perhaps, growing up being a complete daddy's girl, looking up to my older brother to the point of trying to do everything the way he did (I mean everything), and being a tomboy in general who would rather solve disputes with my fists than tears, I just feel like I'm missing it.

In the book's defense, I went in with a chip on my shoulder after deciding that the video clips remind me of vagina monologues and the opening chapter was so "girlie" that I felt defensive right away because I wasn't the girl twirling in dresses or dreaming for a knight in shining armor.

Anyway, as I continue to bear with it (because I'm forced to) there are things that speak to me but I'm afraid that it is misleading in some ways and so on the points of inaccuracy or poor fact gathering, I don't want to "buy into" the book in case it is a bunch of malarkey and the God they describe in the book is not the one of reality.

The key takeaway for me at this point is simply that we have a desire to be seen, noticed and cherished. Those desires are good desires that can be fulfilled through things here on earth but really should primarily be filled by our Creator. That I can agree with. I guess from here it's a journey for God to reveal my own heart to myself and how he fulfills these questions/longings/needs that are innate to who I am. Should be fun. I'll go pursue God. I like him!!

Anyone else out there that would like to understand the book but really have a hard time delving into it and seeing themselves in a lot of the descriptions or molds that they assume women share?

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

I don't care about fashion anymore. I rarely even put my clean laundry away. It sits in a pile, a single article waiting to be discovered and donned once again.

I have been peed on. I have been pooped on. I have been puked on. Two years and two months ago, none of these things had ever happened. I now will leave my house without doing anything to my hair; not even blow-drying it. If I don't have to go into public, the chances of taking a shower are slim. My house is usually a disaster of sorts or has just had emergency work done and is anxiously awaiting the next hit. There is a mop drying outside. It is almost 9 o'clock at night. My shower has not been cleaned in many, many months. It's the same story with the dogs. Exercise? Once a week on the treadmill on average. Grocery shopping? I buy three things here and four things there.

Wow this is depressing me.
There is a break in my life, not a gradual undoing of things. The break is before birth and after birth. (Let's not talk about after birth though. It's a bit gross.) I was never convinced I wanted to really be a mom. The reason was because I thought I would end up doing all of the things I just listed and never be able to sleep past 8 am. It happened. I became a mom. It seems all I'm missing are the jeans.
For me, being a mom is a balancing act. I don't balance well so it is tricky. I tend to get caught up in one aspect of life or another. The beauty of my child is that he helps me keep everything in perspective.
I am maybe a typical person. I work 40+ hours a week. I have a house to clean. I have dinners to cook. I have a husband with whom I enjoy this life. I have bills to pay. I have clothes that need to be put away. I have laundry that needs tending to. I have a relationship with God. I have an iPhone to update. I have dogs to feed. I have volunteer work to do. I have a family I love.
Do you ever feel like you never wholly fit in any one place? There are certain ways that I fit well with one part of my family but then some other things that aren't quite the same. I then have some areas I fit in with another part of my life, such as work, but then there are areas that I just don't quite click. Same thing at church. In fact, this might be more exaggerated at church. I obviously have some things in common with other people I attend church with but then there are a lot of traits that don't mesh well in that situation. There is no place that 100% of who I am is 100% understood or accepted. I don't even 100% understand myself sometimes!
I guess if I stop and think about it (as I am freestyle writing), I may only feel completely comfortable around my 2 year old. Except that I often feel inadequate or lost when mothering my child. I wonder what traits of mine he will end up having imprinted upon him. I hope he is able to see life from a "half full" perspective and has a great hunger for God.
I am a very happy and content person but a skeptic too. Is that possible? Well I guess so because it's true. I like things to make sense. I will analyze things to death but then I also fly by the seat of my pants and make compulsive decisions. This is all a bunch of fun, huh? I guess it's no wonder I don't really fit in anywhere totally.
I'm done rambling for the moment. At least I'm done rambling in prose.