Stuff I don't feel guilty about

RW did a post about things he doesn't feel guilty about. I don't feel guilty about stealing his idea.

1. Not liking Henry Rollins (who is pictured above)

I was once a fan of his spoken work, quick wit and funny stories. Nowadays, I find him grating. I can't take all the f-bombs and assorted swears. I just can't take it. Plus, I believe there is a time to be a punk ass then there is a time to grow up. To revel in the complexity and beauty of life. And stop saying the f word. He is older than me, he needs to grow up. Until then Mr. Rollins, we'll always have 'Get in the van'.

2. Buying those stupid products from PAMPERED CHEF, AVON, MARY KAY, MICHE BAGS, SCENTY OR ANY OTHER CRAP from my friends who are 'selling it'.

I am a girl. I have friends that are also females. Females think that if they sell things like pampered chef or avon, they will make money. IT DOESN'T WORK LADIES. These types of sales are pyramid schemes. You need to rope people in to be your sales staff and take a cut from their sales to even break even. So no, I won't be supporting that kind of scam. Plus the prices on that stuff is overpriced. I realize they are trying to generate a second income for themselves but just ask for money instead. Be honest with me and maybe I'll help.

And stop inviting me to your 'parties' with these products. A real party is a gathering of friends with wine, cheese and giggles. Where you don't try to sell me anything. :(

3. Saying no to stuff like PTA

I like my life on the lazy side. I will only give so much to extracurricalar activities. I really, really like my family. I like lounging and relaxing with them. I like not having my kids in three sports each. Sure, I co-lead some church groups, work almost full time and work out. But, beyond that, I need time to decompress and have quality, monkey love with the Mister. So no, I'm not volunteering for anything more.

4. My religion

Like any group of people, Christians conjure up a lot of images, thoughts and stereotypes in peoples' heads. These are influenced by the images in the media mostly. The media has a job to emotionally provoke the viewer by showing them images of hate, fear and intolerence. If the media can scare you, or make you mad . . . . you'll watch longer. And thus buy more products. . . It's a fact jack!

So, when people think about Christians, sometimes they think not so nice things. But here, in this cyberspace, let me be a shining example of God's love towards all my brothers and sisters. Let me show what God has done in my life, how rich and awesome His power is.

So there ya go.

Stuff I don't feel guilty about!

What don't YOU feel guilty about?

Lots and Lots

Lots and lots of things have been happening in my life. All of which have made me aware of this: I can't do this alone. For instance, I can't fill out the foster parent application alone. I have bad handwriting and can't spell worth a fudge. However, Mr. Hall can fill it out. His handwriting is aces!

I can't study God's word alone. It's easy to draw your own conclusions when reading the bible. So I read it with groups. That way, not only am I held responsible for actually reading the reading, but I hear what others have to say. How the passage affected them. It's a win win really.

I can't parent alone. Not only is Mr. Hall fully invested and involved with his children, he acts a sort of "Mrs. Hall Whisperer" when I am going off the deep end. Which happens more often than I would like. I am prone to being fearful, overwhelmed and befuddled. Not to mention short sighted. Mr. Hall has the long view, he guides me to better places as a Mom.

I also gather with other Moms. We moms are not meant to mother alone. And while Mr. Hall can guide our family, he can't guide all my mom-ness. If you gather a group of mothers together, with the intent to grow in God's word, it's pretty powerful. I highly recommend it.




I can say this. My emerging faith is like a big experiment for me. I feel like a scientist, testing what will happen if I purposefully reach out and grow my faith with others. In these groups, I feel my faith grow in leaps and bounds. It's pretty amazing.

Then, this morning, the Tribe Called Hall all gathered in the four year old room at church. The four year old room is Mac's room. Mr. Hall and I volunteer to help teach the four year olds once a month. Pancake forgoes the eight year old room to be with her family. SO, we all gathered together. Churching in the same room.

I saw my daughter gather 'round the littler four year olds, hugging and cuddling them. She colored with them. All the while praising and cheering them on. "You are coloring so GOOD!!", she'd say :). She even pushed out of her shell, dancing and singing "Jesus is my superhero!" with them. She loved on them something wonderful. :)

I saw Mac stand next to his Daddy while he taught the bible verse to the kids. Mac was Daddy's assistant. Which means he was being bossy and getting in the way :) I sat near the back, helping the shy kids speak up and use their voice. Also, my lap was free for kids who missed their Mommies. My arms were good for hugs too. :)

So there we were, talking about God and Jesus and the Bible to little four year olds. We are not trained to do these things. We just raised our hands and volunteered to do it. And they let us.

It felt wonderful. It felt whole and home. It was awesome. :)

SO, what was the verse you ask?

"Be kind and loving to each other"

It's as simple as that!!

funny family photos

The one in the middle is my mom.


just like every other person on the planet, or rather, every other WOMAN on the planet, i have issues with my mom.

until I gave up life to Jesus anyway.

After I was dipped, I prayed. I prayed to heal stuff from my childhood. Like my relationship with my mom.

AND NOW even though we fundamentally disagree on pretty much everything, we don't fight anymore.

Which I've tried to do before, I've tried not to fight. Tried to use all my mental health provider skills on me and/or my mom and we would still fight. I'd yell at her and be bossy.

I'm not proud of these things, but they are what they are. I was borne of a selfish mom, and i grew into a selfish girl.

BUT

then. as I said.

I gave up my life to Jesus.

Nowadays, when she struggles, and gets bossy---- she can't help but call herself out in front of me. She'll know when she is selfish and she'll feel bad about it. She'll verbalize that she is being a meany bossy pants, and feel bad about it.

She tells me these things because she knows I am changing. Jesus is by my side every day, changing my life in every way. Prayer is changing everything. This faith I have is blossoming and I am becoming more than could have by myself.

SO.

When she realizes she's being mean, petty and selfish. Instead of yelling at her, or belittling her (these things I am not proud of btw), I launch myself at her. Hug her. Love her.

Because God loves her and so do I.

amen to that :)

I washed people's feet all day, then this happened

(this post is a long one, but if you stay to the end, it will be worth it :)

I recently took part in an event sponsored by "Samaritan's Feet". This organization hands out socks and shoes for free. All you have to do is show up to the tent.

In the tent there were ~ 150 volunteers. We all had different jobs--foot washers, runners, ushers, greeters etc. I volunteered for 'foot washer'. My choice surprised me. I'm not a fan of feet. But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized-

I'VE BEEN DOING FOOT CARE ALL MY NURSING CAREER. Of course I should be a foot washer.

People sat down in front of me and I'd say, "Welcome, my name is Holly. Thank you for coming. Today we hope to provide you with a new pair of socks and shoes." Then Mr. Hall would ask what size shoe they needed and would run to get it. (He was my runner :) Then I'd say, "While we're waiting, can I wash your feet?"

Why wash the feet? Because Jesus did this.

This was my day on a Saturday. Greeting people and offer to wash their feet while we were waiting for their shoes. Some people didn't want their feet washed, some didn't want the shoes we brought, some didn't have any idea what we were doing. What we were doing- was spreading the love of God.

It's important to note, they didn't have to have their feet washed. They didn't have to do anything to get the shoes. Except show up to the tent :)

While I was washing or just waiting, I'd ask them if they went to church. I'd ask them what brought them to the Samaritan's Tent. I'd get a variety of responses. Some would be upset, some would be confrontational. Some would embrace the experience and share their journey with me. Some would tell me about their baptism. Before everyone left, I would ask if I could pray for them. And if they said yes, I'd give it my best shot, take their hands in mine and pray my heart out.

It was a day of awesomeness, this day of washing feet. It was very natural and easy going too. I like volunteering. Especially with Mr. Hall.

Then.

This happened.

The next day, in church, at the very end, I was drifting off in my thoughts. The service had gone long, something like 2 hours long. The pastor of my church can get quite worked up. :) Then, I felt something like a shift. Like an opening inside and I thought to myself, "I'm done." It was just like that: "I'm done.", painted in gentle, yet unmistakable letters in my brain.

It took me a moment. I had to figure out what I was done with.

I figured it out. I flashed to an image that's been haunting me. I see myself, laying there, on the exam table, getting the ultrasound and not seeing my baby's heart beat. Then being told her heart wasn't beating. This is how I learned of both my miscarriages, through ultrasounds.

But, I was done. And this image, it was different. It was like I was in the room with my former self. Like I was standing next to me. I could embrace myself. I could comfort myself as I spasmed and choked on my tears. And that scene, it no longer haunts me. Because I'm done. I'm done hurting about it. I'm done. I'm not the same woman laying there on the table. I am healed.

And I figured out even more.

I've been cranking my thoughts like a spinning top, cranking on it so hard. My thoughts have become torturous, thoughts of "Should we try to get pregnant again?" or "Should take the IUD out?" or "We need to stop trying/wait no. . . " These thoughts, they would scare me and drive me nuts. BUT I AM DONE. I took my hand off the crank. I am done. I am not bound up in want and fear anymore. I'm done. Just done. I am healed.

So we drive home, and I feel calm, peace and happiness. I feel 500 pounds lighter. I praise Jesus for this. It is amazing the relief I feel.

Then, I put the kids down for the nap. I curled up to Mr. Hall and told him all of this. And I said, whatever you need, how ever you need it, I am here for you. And we hugged and wept.

Burned by wild desire

I had a dream the other night. It was like watching a movie of the week. Bette Milder was reunited with her infant son. She had decided to join with her son, her husband and the inlaws and live in duplex. She had had other children, they were older, but, they were well taken care of and she didn't need to go to therm. Somewhere during the dream, I started to morph with the actress and then the story was happening to me.

It was so emotional. I found myself crying in my sleep. I woke up crying.

I worked really heard on trying to figure it out. I believe this dream was sparked by the Fisher Price Nativity set up there. I found that set at Goodwill the other day and gave it to my kids to play with. They love it. They make all sorts of stories up about baby Jesus. That he can fly, that he's from Mars, et cetera. It makes them all curious about Jesus and God. Which is awesome.

So I thought the dream was about my emerging faith. The infant was my faith, in the newborn stages. And the older kids, these were my first, older experiences with faith. Mainly Buddism and Asian philosophy. These were the first brushes with letting a higher power into my life.

However, Buddism was more of a philosophy for me. Not a religion. Not a surrender. Not a belief. And while I will always carry the lessons and tools it gave me, the ways of calming my mind, knowing I am connected to much more then myself. . they are older kids I don't need to take care of anymore.

But then there was this morning. This morning changed my interpretation of the dream a bit. But before this morning, there was last night.

sigh.

It's been four months of trying to get pregnant. It's starting to wear me down. I realize that it's me and my thoughts wearning me down. Not the process of trying. I am impatient, I am a type A person who acheives goals, I am ovulating and timing things to produce another child. But last night I knew wasn't pregant again. I knew before I officially checked this morning, that the pregnancy test would be negative. I knew it and I sobbed really hard while Mr. Hall held me.

Desire is a burning thing. I am sure that having two miscarriages plays a role here but my body, my mind, my heart and my soul all want to be pregnant. But I'm not, and it hurts like hell.

So my next task it to back up and see where I am causing this hurt. I have to remember there is no way I am in charge of this. No matter how many ovulation sticks, no matter how many cervical checks, I am not in charge of becoming pregnant. We can make love, but God makes life.

And my timeline is not God's.

2 Peter 3:8

But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.

Then I hand myself over. Surrender. Say to God that according to his plan, I am exactly where I need to be. And I turn towards Him, embrace his love and grace, letting the hurt dissolve. Letting his love heal.

And I'll pray, and worship and repeat this in my heart when I feel the ebb and flow of hurt. And it's awesome this faith. It is beyond anything I've ever had before.

And the wonder of it is, if this is my faith in it's infancy, what will it be like when it's full grown?

:)