Rebekah's blog

I began my day this morning with my thoughts and my eyes fixed on transformation.

Thanks Rebekah.
*Her blog is listed as Rebs on this page.

Proof I'm really a Texan...

The live ones kiss back.


Notice the logo...

Therapizing myself...

This week was tough. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, but I think my family hit the change in schedule and my lack of availability like a brick wall. I also realized that the true introvert that I am is in need of alone time. It is important to know where you draw your energy. I dragged through this week like a slug. I had a difficult time accomplishing tasks, and couldn't focus. What is my answer to this dilemma? Well, I self-prescribed the symptom. I am going to give in to my desire to be a hermit. Today. I am going to read, write, watch TV, and whatever comes along without planning. I wore sweats today. I prepared myself for time alone. I even decided not to put myself in group situations (other than class, which I left promptly after).

I emphasized the word Today, because that is how long I am giving myself. Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow is the be organized and be productive green light. I am gathering energy and gaining momentum today. Tomorrow I will wake up with renewed strength and focus.

Tomorrow I will follow the advice of the wise sage Yoda. I will not try, I will do.

Good intentions versus Reality

Last night I came to face to face with the reality that I'm only a breath away or a word away from acting like my mother.

My precious 10 year daughter has autism. This disorder helps to explain some of the oddities of her personality or her behavior. However, it does not automatically make me an excellent parent of a child with autism. It does not make me an expert. In fact, I realize on a daily basis how little I know, how impatient I am, and how selfish I am. I find myself not doing the things I know I should do, and doing the things I know I should not do. I begin my day with Good intentions, and close my day with a petition to the Lord to forgive my many slip ups & and a chance to try again the next day.

I began this blog with the intention of explaining my opening sentence. However, I no longer feel inspired to do so. I'm not sure if it's laziness or if I just want to ponder the reality of my behavior a bit longer. If you are reading this then I have a question for you. Who is it that you try not to emulate? Who is it you try to emulate? Do you ever find yourself living out the reverse of your intentions? Just some random, hopefully thought-provoking questions for you today.

Perhaps later I'll post my additional thoughts on the matter.

Blessings to you.

The Seam-ripper

It seems to me that when I find myself struggling, whether that be with anxiety, loneliness, insecurity, or doubt, I can trace the problem back to a time when something was taken from me. I don't mean that it was taken from me right then. What I am talking about is deeper and more crucial to my being than a momentary embarrassment. I believe there are times in our past that contribute to our greatness and to our weakness. Talking about those times that contribute to our "greatness" is easier and more comfortable/acceptable. People smile as you tell them about the teacher who believed in you, the camp counselor who mentored you, or the day you were baptized. All of those things are vital ingredients to who you've become.

What about those times that contribute to our weakness(es)? For me, even though I am stronger and able to recognize when I am acting out of weakness, that weakness doesn't just go away. It's like the original perpetrator stole that piece of the puzzle from me. I believe Christ can patch the rip, tear, or gaping wound. However, just as he has scars on his hands and feet, I am left with a scar. This scar is usually a good thing that can contribute to "greatness". However, sometimes the scar burns like Harry Potter's forehead lightening bolt. Sometimes it is just too easy to hand control back over to the one who wounded me, instead of the one who healed me.

I confess I have more scars than most people. Some scars people know about. Some I haven't shared. I am getting closer to sharing the ones I've kept locked away. If truth is a pre-condition of freedom...I choose freedom, therefore, at some point I must also choose truth.

I don't understand why I have this intense need to protect the wound-givers. Yes, I am responsible for some of my scars, but the deepest ones, the ones only God can heal, the ones the devil seeps into...were not given by me. Yet, I am the one who continues to re-open the wound. Why is that? I don't sew, but I do know a little about the tools used. There's this little gadget called a seam-ripper. It does exactly what you think. When you make a hem or a seam you aren't pleased with, you take the seam-ripper and rip it out. I think that is what I do with the beautiful quilt that has become my life. Christ heals me with tender hands he carefully hand stitches my wound. I glorify him for his remarkable craftsmanship! Then somewhere down the line, something happens, something that fools my mind into believing the wound is still open. I cry out to God and ask how he could allow this to happen again, didn't he heal me? I bury my head and clench my fists...and that's when I realize I am the one holding the seam-ripper.

God is an excellent seamstress. He mends me all the time. I wonder, though, what would it look like to stop ripping out his progress? What role does truth play in that process? At some point, do I risk what others think, say, or do in order to be free?

These are all good questions.

No time to write right now.

So, now I have a blog. However, no time to write. Haha! I'm sure I'll have something brilliant to write before too long.