Friday, March 13, 2009

Why I do what I do

Below is a post that I wrote in March and the perfectionist in me said to wait and work on it some more.  Then the procrastinator in me put off  working on it for 2 months.  Finally the pride inside of me drifted away and said "this needs to be posted- don't delay".    

"Why do I pray- do I pray to say I prayed an hour?
Why do I love- do I want you beholden to me?
Why do I help- do I want to hear my name called?
Why do sing?
Search me and know my heart, oh God.
See if there is any wrong thing in me.
All I have really wanted are clean hands and a pure heart."

~Sara Groves (Know my Heart)

Above are lyrics from an artist that is dear to me.  That song reached into my core, especially so because I've made many of my ministries very open for public view!  Why do I do what I do?  Is it to be noticed?  To edify others?  To have people tell me that I am good at something?  To find worth?  All of these questions and more I am constantly seeking to answer, honestly.

Last fall when I was considering starting my own jewelry line I struggled with so many thoughts.  Do I really think that I am any good?  Would anyone buy anything?  I'm just putting stuff together, not even making anything from scratch, I'm not a true artist.  It was about that time that we headed out to see Michelle Tumes in concert.  Small, small church.  We sat maybe 6 rows back.  Beautiful, soft spoken Australian lady.  She is such an amazing song writer. Able to compose for an entire orchestra.  Such a person with her talent and here she was in a small church taking time to minister to me.  She has had her own struggles with sharing her songs publicly, wondering how people would view her music that she had poured her heart into.  Then she realized that it didn't matter.  This was what God had given her to do.  She had songs that she needed to share and opportunities eventually opened up for her to do so.

This encouraged me as I thought about my business, my writing.  I have such a need to share.  I am fearful at times that people will misunderstand me, my motives.  I am fearful that at times my motives aren't what they should be or that I will fail in someway.  The truth is I am terrified of opening myself up for public scrutiny.  I know others will see right through to my imperfections and question what right I have to serve.  I serve the Creator of the universe.  I truly believe that.  The Creator of the stars, the flowers, the fish in the sea.  Have you been to a pet store lately to see some of His unique creations?  

I believe that the desires I have in me to create are from Him.  I can't say that I "enjoy" the process of creating, of actually writing, or performing a song.  I tremble at the thought of standing before others ready to share my vision through song, at standing behind a table with my designs spread out for people to see, of organizing my photographs for others to view and even now sitting at a computer typing my rampant thoughts knowing they will eventually be read by another set of eyes.  I think surely there are others that do these things so much better, why do I spend my hours toiling away on what will not last?  There are days when I have to will my mind and hands to work... because I know the toll it takes on my body.  It takes work- most of it in my mind, pushing aside my fears.  Yet, it's what I am compelled to do.      

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

SIGN UP TO RECEIVE MY BLOGS VIA EMAIL

Here it is, the final word.  I will no longer be sending out group emails or notification links.  I finally figured out the easiest way for me to handle it in a non-stressful or added steps way.  I recently subscribed to be on Elanas Pantry email list.  I looked at my confirmation email and noticed it was run by FeedBurner.  To make this as short as possible I was able to put FeedBurner on my blog site so I no longer have to do anything.  FeedBurner takes care of it all for me...  I write and eventually you should receive!

*******You will need to type in your own email address where it says SIGN UP TO RECEIVE MY BLOGS... only if you would like to have them emailed to you.  It's all up to you now******* 

That's it.  I'm done bugging and "testing" you.  It was fun while it lasted.  Greener pastures up ahead! 

Monday, March 9, 2009

My soul is filled

I just finished up a full weekend of concerts.  Classical.  19 piece orchestra plus organ accompanied a chorus made up of almost 90 voices.  There's nothing like having your feet go numb for the sake of singing with strings playing only a few feet away from you.  Nothing can compare.  Except in my dream world I would be paid to sing with the strings instead of the other way around.  In comparison to the food world it would be like eating a Friendly's Reese's Pieces Sundae as a food critic and receiving reimbursement upon completion (along with only half of the calories counting).  Side note:  Upon looking up how to spell this particular sundae I found a list of healthier alternatives from Friendly's.  The healthiest alternative listed was Spanish Rice.  I'm not sure how eating that would take the edge off of desiring a sundae or even coming close to replicating any part of the Reese's Sundae.  Then again, perhaps I am underestimating the power of this particular rice.  I'm obviously not Spanish.

We performed the Faure Requiem which was just beautiful.  Our director, Katie, managed to get most of the soprano section to hold their wobble.  She worked hard to make us sound more angelic-like.  I was always so moved by the second movement.  It is written for the altos to begin and then the men come in and there is this playful banter.  It is very moody.  In parts of the Poulenc Gloria I was transported to movie land.  I recently rented the movie musical Sweeney Todd.  Yes, a bit graphic in spots.  I did quite a bit of shielding my eyes from the spurting blood.  The score was absolutely splendid, imaginative, playful.  If you could get over the fact that Johnny Depp was singing then all was well.  During the fifth movement of the Poulenc I was the star in my own movie, the sequel to Sweeney Todd.  Less blood in this one. 

The first night I looked out into the audience to see that the youngest ones attending had managed to stay awake for the whole concert.  That is a first.  Before leaving the house I suggested to my children that they take something along to color.  They all said they didn't need to, they would be listening to the music.  So thankful that they have supported me over the years through my chorale involvement by attending and finding ways to make me feel special.  They brought me purple tulips.  The same tulips that just days earlier I had longingly gazed upon in the grocery store- without my dear husband's knowledge!  

I can only hope that as the older generations pass away that my children will be first in line to take their place as patrons of excellent music.  There is something about notes placed in just the right spot and performed with such sensitivity that has great power to stir the soul.  My soul is filled. 

Thursday, March 5, 2009

May I never stop noticing the walls

As I was doing some fixing up here on my blog site I got to thinking.  How long will it be before I stop noticing my blog "wallpaper"?  When I started this blog I clicked a few buttons and there it was, all set up for me.  I had quite a few backgrounds to pick from and then I could customize even more after picking one.  I have been back and forth on what to use.  Light polka dots, dark ones.  Plain background, colorful.  Start from scratch and make my own... ouch, that would be work.  

When we first moved into our tiny home almost 7 years ago I had visions.  I didn't want white walls.  Green.  I searched for months for the perfect shade of green.  Took even longer to finally give the ok to Andy to start painting.  We finally covered over the green snowman that had become our painted friend on the wall.  It was only recently that I started noticing the walls again.  Dirty from years of touching, the paint has chipped off in places.  Character and memories yes, but...  How often do I do that, not notice what has been there all the time?  How often is it that I desire to take the time to think about change?  Or do I think about it for a fleeting moment and think it will be too hard to improve upon, and proceed to neglect it?  I think it's time for me to start noticing the walls again and to think about what I can do to improve upon them.  The same could be said about me.  

For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks at his natural face in a mirror: for once he has looked at himself and gone away, he has immediately forgotten what kind of person he was.
James 1:23-24 

Yes, I may end up keeping the light polka dots because that's what I have decided upon.  May it never be because I have forgotten about them or the desire I had in the first place to create something of beauty.  

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Is there greener grass to be found?

I'm sitting here staring at an open bag of Twizzlers, contemplating a minor victory.  I never thought I had it in me to say no.  I did- I opted instead for tea, cashews and cantaloupe.  After being basically sugar and gluten free for the past 5 weeks that when I read down through the ingredient list (for Twizzlers) their appeal was lost on me.  For those of you that know me well this minor victory is actually quite a major breakthrough.  One day at a time.  That's what I keep telling myself.

There's no mistaking it- life is hard, for everyone.  I'm reminded of that truth every time I go for another test and see that I am not the only one there.  Just a couple of days ago while getting 14 tubes of blood taken I ran into 2 people that I knew.  They were giving their blood up to be tested as well.  I chatted a bit with my one friend from the chorale inquiring as to why she was there.  Truth be told, it's not often that I let myself become lost in the hardships of others.  I tend to think that my brain will explode if I take in too much sorrow, if I feel compelled to care, then get overwhelmed when I don't know how to reach out past my own sorrows.  Most days my energy is consumed overcoming my own struggles.  

When Caleb was born and I wanted to throw him out of a window to make him stop crying, I knew something was wrong.  Each pregnancy brought new challenges and symptoms.  After Moriah was born I finally decided to seek out some answers as to what was going on with my body.  Little more than 5 years ago I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's disease.  I was told that there was an easy fix.  All you have to do is take a teeny tiny little pill for the rest of your life. Then the stomach pain and bloating started and the numbness and dizzy spells got worse.  A couple of years ago anemia was thrown into the mix.  As for the stomach problems those were put into the giant sphere of irritable bowel syndrome.  Did I mention I have food addictions as well???  The past few years have been spent scheduling tests and more tests to get at the root of the problem- what has caused so much to go wrong?  There is always a part of me that is optimistic that something will be found that will give insight into why my body betrays me at times like it does.  I recently started down a more natural path in hopes of healing my body.  Because of doing this I thought I was ready to ditch my medical field approved pill.  Yet I just got the call that I was dreading, my thyroid isn't working.  Now what.  I've been told to start taking the pill again.  In my gut I believe that it was doing more harm than good...  So desiring to come to a place where I can accept that this is as good as it gets for me in my earthly body and then learn to live fully in this place.  There are days when I am so close to being there, then there are days like today when frustration sets in and the tears flow.  So confused as to where to go from here.   

I am so blessed to have such a supportive family.  At such a young age Caleb was put in charge of caring for his sisters when I was having a "bad" day.  He is still so watchful of them, wanting no harm to befall them.  They have endured countless dr. visits with me.  Just the other day they sat with me while I chatted with my nutritionist.  I looked over at Lily to see that she was flossing her teeth with a fluorescent kid flosser.  She had taken 2 along, one for the top teeth, another for the bottom.  The kids can tell you which offices they like the best.  The place yesterday would have to be rated right up at the top.  I had an electronic dizzy test while Andy took the kids exploring.  There was a waterfall and elevators in the building.  The highest kid-ranked items when it comes to any location, water and elevators.  Found out afterwards that they played hide and seek using the elevators- by themselves!  I have watched everyone adopt my new way of eating by coming on board with me.  Some days the kids awake with more excitement than others about the foods we will be eating. At the store they now squeal with delight as they press their faces up against the glass to peer at the sugar- laden cakes, cookies and doughnuts which they know better than to ask if we can buy...

Times of laughter through the tears.  Moriah saying "mommy doesn't want to eat because she doesn't want to get a fat tummy".  There is truth in her statement.  There is always a fear that what I am doing is harming myself further.  The foods that I eat, the pills that I swallow.  Being careful how I dress myself to "hide" what is so obvious to me.  Through it all I have learned much about myself, about the God that I desire to serve, about the people that He has created in His image.  I have had friends reach out to me at just the right times.  I have been moved by hearing similar stories of others suffering in ways that they to find hard to express.     

When there isn't a name to what you have it's easier at times to not share, thinking that others can't possibly understand what you going through, the pain and frustrations it causes when you just want to feel normal, whatever normal feels like.  The games your mind chooses to play.  Never sure which advice to heed or where to go next.  The dr. who says there is no shame in taking drugs to treat depression, another telling you to learn to live with it if it's not killing you, the expert expressing concern over prescription drugs causing long-term problems.  I'm taking one step at a time, one day at a time, seeking to find greener grass.  Not certain that even if I did find greener grass if it would be at all like I envisioned... yet I still need to believe that it's out there for me to find.  I have a hope beyond tomorrow but it's that hope for living tomorrow that I need to get me through. 

 

Friday, February 27, 2009

"I have a dream." Yes, but, rent the helmets.




I learned to ski in the 7th grade ski club.  My parents had the right idea- sending me off to learn on my own when I was old enough to pick myself up.  I'm not sure at what age my husband learned his way around on a snowboard.  I do remember seeing pictures of him jumping off of rooftops as well as great "air" pic's.  He takes great pride in sharing those memories with me.  Before we were married was the last time I went skiing.  Winter of 1996.  Andy and I met to ski/snowboard together at Hidden Valley.  It was supposedly the halfway point between our homes, though I recall it took me quite a bit longer to get there from Lancaster than it took Andy to get there from Butler. 

This past Christmas my kids opened up gifts from their grandparents (gifts that were highly suggested and actually purchased by my husband) that were a complete shock to me!  They all got boots and a snowboard to share.  That's when the vision was revealed to me.  Andy told me about 4th and 5th graders skiing free in PA and thought Moriah might be free as well certain places since she's 5- so wouldn't it be a good time to learn?  2 out of 3 children were excited.  I was concerned about having to use muscles that have long since been forgotten...

Yesterday was the big day.  Caleb's cyber school was taking a group, we loaded up our family and drove to Hidden Valley.  Thankfully by this time Lily was on board with the whole skiing thing.  It was decided that Lily and Moriah would rent skis and Caleb would use the snowboard.  We pulled into the parking lot and concerns came up.  "What if I fall?"  Lily replied, "I've got band aids!"  Sure enough, she did.  She had packed her bag with proper medical necessities and was prepared to use them. 

 I know that you are more than ready for me to skip to the good parts.  Like when Moriah was crying and refused to put her skis back on 10 minutes after being outside.  Or when any grand thoughts about stealing off for some skiing time alone were squashed after realizing that I would have to stay with Moriah and Lily for their 1 1/2 hour lesson.  I was told by the instructor that they start lessons around age 8, 5 was too young for most kids because of their lack of hip strength.  I laughed.  I looked him in the face and said that she was a very good gymnast.  He said OK, but you need to stay with her during the class to help her.  Lack of strength... my dear little package of explosion who spends 2 hours in the gym each week and countless others at home perfecting her walkovers and handstands, dreaming of the Olympics.  Was I out to prove him wrong?  You bet. 

Many falls later and fortified with food, Andy decided we were ready to progress off of the bunny hill.  This involved moving up from the standing, creeping paced carpet lift to a 3 seater, high in the sky faster lift.  I went first with Caleb who moaned about his foot hanging in the air, wishing it to be over.  We got off but Caleb didn't move fast enough away from the lift before one of the girls crashed into him.  What were we thinking? I was focused on looking for green circle signs.  The easy trails.  Lily announced that now she had to go the bathroom.  We had to get down off the mountain somehow.  Survival mode had kicked into gear for me.  I went first a bit at a time to show them where I wanted them to go and to catch them.  Andy stayed behind to help restart the fallen ones.  More than an hour later (including one potty stop behind a tree for Lily) we finally almost all made it down the mountain.  After falling many, many times, Caleb declared that he wanted to try skiing next time.  Moriah got up after a tearfully hard fall and I expected her to be done.  She surprised me by asking if she could go back to the bunny hill.  Lily was crying the whole way down. It didn't help that right near the bottom of the hill she disappeared into a hole taller than herself where one of the snow making machines was placed.  I was on my way up the creeping carpet lift when I saw her gracefully ski right into the hole.  Andy, who was at the bottom of the hill didn't notice.  I was yelling down at him.  He went up to fetch her, reached his hand down in and pulled her out.  Needless to say, Lily said she was finished skiing and I was bummed that I stopped video-taping right before she slid into the hole.

Funny thing is Lily did eventually put on her skis again and continued up then down the bunny hill until we had to pull her off to go home.  She put into practice the slow (with emphasis on the word slow) controlled turns that she learned in her lessons.  After getting a close up look at the snow making machine she told me she wanted one to have here at home.  Caleb pushed himself despite his many falls.  Determined that he would get the hang of it.  Moriah almost beat her Daddy racing straight down the hill and managed to finally learn how to stay standing up when turning to stop herself at the bottom.  Amazingly hard day.  No, Andy and I didn't get to do much on our own and the main muscles that I worked on weren't in my legs but in my arms from picking the girls up!  There is something incredible about working with your family to overcome fears and frustrations.  It was time well spent in learning valuable life lessons.  It was priceless- the money spent on helmet rentals. 

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

If anyone finds my mind, please return with upgraded version installed.

My day so far... only as it can happen to me.  I left to go the dentist to get my teeth cleaned.  I just went last month but I get my final pic's taken at my orthodontist tomorrow and I've been taking vitamin filled shakes that have chosen to stain every little nook and cranny they could find- hence the much needed cleaning.  I got to the dentist early (which I was quite proud of) and even made sure to point that out to the receptionist as she looked at me quite quizzicly.  She said "I believe we scheduled you for next Tuesday".  My ego quickly deflated as I realized instead of being 10 minutes early I was a week and 10 minutes early.  Yes, I do remember now on the answering machine it was a March date that was given.  Thankfully they had someone cancel so in I went for some scraping action.  40 minutes later after many assurances to the very nice hygienist that I was OK and having to pull out the "big guns" (think super soaker loaded with baking soda and you get the idea) my teeth were better than new.  My face was feeling quite worked upon too after being spackled with super soaker residue. 

Last stop before home, the girls and I head into Target for cashews.  Not just any cashews but the only ones that I can find roasted without added oils.  Just sea salt.  My son who would not touch a nut 4 weeks ago has fallen in love with sea salt roasted cashews.  On the way of course we get side tracked looking at pretty dresses and clearance tights.  Armed with new dresses and tights we head to the cashews.  On sale even!  My face all of a sudden doesn't feel so tight anymore from the dried on baking soda.  Off to pay and get home before Caleb realizes that we aren't there when I said we would be.  Reach the check out only to discover that Lily's tights are missing.  "I think I left them at the cashew aisle".  That's only a walk back through the dress section and cards and videos and then past electronics- there's the aisle and yes the tights right on the floor.  Hurray.  Off to pay, again.  Now there is a line, and we are waiting.  Which gives me time to get out my wallet which I realize isn't with me, it's in the car.  Nice fellow lets us leave our stuff in a pile while we run out to the car to retrieve wallet.

Return home to find that since we are 30 minutes late, Caleb has called his Dad and stressed his concern.  He then rushes over to me and gives me a sincere warm hug.  If being 30 minutes late gives me that kind of welcome I may have to be late again...