Apr 27, 2012 |
You’ll recall that a few days ago, I received this
Which quickly turned into this
I’m a huge Billy Joel fan. Always have been. So while I really love the “Back to NEW Orleans” CD, the Billy Joel has been my go-to favorite for over 48 hours now.
It’s been out of my car only twice. Once to upload onto our home computer iTunes playlist, and the next day to upload onto my laptop playlist.
What surprises me is the song that immediately became my favorite. I was certain it would be “My Life” ~ remember it as the theme to Tom Hanks’ and Peter Scolari’s “Bosom Buddies”? Now that was a fun show to watch.
Or even “New York State of Mind”… because that pretty much sums me up most of the time.
But no. The song that has captured my attention more than any of the others is Track No. 7: “An Innocent Man”. And it’s not just the music that does it. It’s the lyrics. In the 1990’s the song was already a decade or so old. But I could relate to it. I always felt like the one he was singing to ~ a girl so afraid of getting hurt that I never even gave love a chance.
But now I’m listening to the song differently. Now I’m seeing that it’s not just about being open to a relationship; it’s about being open to the world. Billy Joel is the World, singing its serenade to me and beckoning me to let go of the past, of my hurts, of my fears and open the door to new possibilities, to new goals and achievements and dreams.
I have stopped blaming The World for not giving me what I want. I shouldn’t let one small piece dictate how I see the entire puzzle. There’s so much more that is fundamentally good and I have to stop looking behind me and tripping over my own feet.
It’s time to look ahead and see the horizons. It’s a beautiful world… and I want to be a part of it.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Apr 26, 2012 |
I’m not one to publicly complain or let others in on my troubles. I figure the world has enough problems, big and small, and my job is to make the world a better place… even if that means just keeping my mouth shut.
But a few times, I’ve seen this linky badge on Jenn’s blog and I’ve read what other people have to contribute. I admit, I admire having a Sanctuary of Sorts where fellow bloggers can go and expose their real self as opposed to the sometimes somewhat reserved public persona we display in our writings.
Granted, our blogs are mostly authentic. We wouldn’t be successful if they weren’t. But there’s still a part of me, a very private part of me, that I rarely let out.
But it’s been one of those weeks where I’ve avoided my Friends. We all have them: those people who can look us in the eye and we absolutely can’t ignore or lie to when they ask, “How are you doing?”
That’s not the Joey Tribbiani smooth chant, “How you doin’?”
I’m talking about the get-real, get-deep, and get-honest, “How are you doing?”
There’s only so many times I can hide, or recount my woes, without feeling sorry for myself.
And that’s not what I’m trying to do here. I’m not striving for attention. I’m also not trying to put on a brave face and act like everything’s ok. I’m not broken or shaken to my core. I’m just somewhere in between.
That’s it! That’s exactly where I am:
I’m in limbo.
And it sucks.
I know God loves me intimately. He has taken care of my family in ways I can’t even explain. He is faithful in keeping all the promises He has made to and for me.
And I feel really selfish and guilty for putting this out there… but sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.
Sometimes, I want more. Sometimes, I get jealous. And angry. And upset. And I cry. I cry a lot. I wish I wasn’t a crier, but I am. And that, too, sucks. Because it’s utterly embarrassing to be in the store and walk away from something with tears and a tight throat because I have to decide between an extra gallon of milk or a bag of popcorn kernels.
People I know have jobs, have relationships, have dates, have money to do things. Is it too much to ask for some jaw-dropping, never-thought-it-could-happen-to-me joy? What’s wrong with me, that everyone else is getting what I want?! Okay, not everyone-everyone. Just… everyone. At least the majority. Maybe three out of five.
Is it really all that wrong to want to be noticed and appreciated? To be able to do for my family what other Heads of Households get to do for theirs? Is there any time, any time, in the near or even distant future when I can actually have a savings account worth anything?
I’m so tired of planning out every drive around places we have to go; and how to get the most mileage around town. I can’t see you today, because visiting a friend just isn’t on my route. It stinks!
I’m a writer. It’s what I do. But writing doesn’t pay the bills… yet. And I can’t find a day job that will. I’m great in interviews. But the job offers themselves just aren’t around. Because I’m unemployed, people take that to mean I’m unemployable. How is the economy at large, the lack of business income, my fault?! How is the fact that my previous employer didn’t know how to manage the business and balance the books and sign new contracts my fault?!
And why can’t I write for a living?! Why does being a successful, marketable writer mean having a publisher, which you can’t get unless you have an agent, which you can’t get unless you’re marketable, which you can’t be unless you’re already being marketed, which you can’t be unless someone takes a chance, which they won’t because you haven’t proven yourself, which you can’t do because…
Why can’t I catch a break?!
I’m tired of waiting for the rest of the world to know what I’ve already learned! That life is worth taking chances. That life is good. That fundamentally, we’re all going to be okay, even if right now we don’t know what the definition of “okay” is!
And then, of course, I vent and get embarrassed that I even felt this way to begin with. Because ultimately, I am okay. I will continue to be okay.
But now and then, I wonder if God has forgotten about me because I’m not the squeaky wheel. If I throw a tantrum, will He notice and take care of me? If I cry harder, will He comfort me? Why are prayers being answered for other people and not me?
I asked Him that the other day. To which He replied, “You never really asked.” Ouch. Ouch. Ouch! But He’s right. I talk about God an awful lot, and sometimes to Him, but I’ve lost the ability to talk with Him.
I’m a failure. I don’t deserve the things I want. I mean, really. How much effort am I putting into achieving my goals? I thought I was trying, even striving. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m doing it wrong.
Maybe I’m just a failure.
But, no. That can’t be it. Because I’ve accomplished some pretty neat things lately like writing, publishing, and selling a Cookbook. I make ends meet each month. Barely, but they do meet.
Gah. I’ve even failed at being a failure.
Oh, God!
So this is me. Confessing that I am guilty of using God as a safety net. Of throwing emotional tantrums like I’m four instead of 44. I tell Him what’s wrong with my life, but I don’t give Him the chance to help me fix anything. I talk to Him, muttering, but lately haven’t gone to Him in prayer. Not real, deep, involved, here’s-what’s-happening prayer. I’ve successfully ignored Him and blamed His absence on everything but my own pushing Him away.
I never thought I would be one of those people! And He means so much more to me than that. I know I mean so much more to Him!
And now I’m really embarrassed. And ashamed.
Oh, GOD!
Never mind, God. I know you’re still in control. Still here with your arms around me. Still here, taking care of me and family in ways I’m not even aware of.
You haven’t forgotten me.
And I’m so sorry I forgot about you. Even just for a little while.
Forgive me, Lord.
Forgive me.
“For I know the plans I have for you,”
declares the Lord.
“Plans to prosper you, and not to harm you.
Plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11, NIV.
I’m gonna be okay, God. I’m gonna be okay, because you’re God, and I’m not. And even if I don’t know what Your definition of “okay” is, I still know I will be. Because You are God.
And I am not.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Apr 25, 2012 |
Welcome to the second “What’s the Word? Wednesday” blog hop!
This week’s discussion is, well, anything. We’re all just getting to know each other around here so go ahead. Link up, share, post, and tell your friends to join the party!
Are there any blog posts you’re particularly proud of? Any get-to-know-you statements you’ve shouted? Spill it (the story, not the coffee!).
I’ll link up a few of my favorite posts from the past few months to give you a taste of my writing styles. I’ve been lucky enough to be featured a few times on BlogHer.com, so I guess I must be doing something right!
Come on in, sit on down, grab your coffee or other favorite beverage, and let’s cyber-toast this great community of bloggers and commentators.
Remember, you don’t have to have a blog; you can leave a comment instead.
Ready? Cheers!
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Apr 24, 2012 |
I don’t watch Talk Shows. I try to avoid them unless George Clooney is trying to help the children in Darfur, or Michael Buble is singing through the commercials.
So today I wasn’t really paying attention as the TV happened to be tuned to “The View” on ABC. I wasn’t paying attention, until the topic began with the disappearance of Etan Patz in 1979 when he was six years old. Until I actually heard Whoopi Goldberg state make the following statement:
“Is it too creepy for me to say, we should, we maybe need to start thinking about one of those little tracking things in children? Because they put it in our animals… I know there’s all kinds of things in the Christian Bible that says don’t do those kinds of things, but I just, you know… I mean, is that too crazy? I mean, we confined our animals when they, when they wander away. Is it wrong to suggest something like that?”
Halfway through her statement, one of her earrings fell and caused a momentary distraction. But then she jumped right back on the horse with the support of her co-hosts.
A few things really bother me about this statement. And I’m here to tell you, Whoopi, that yes, it is too creepy for you to suggest we implant our children.
First, I am a Christian. And I resent your implication that a Christian who follows the Good Book lacks a certain something in society. I can’t figure out if you were trying to call us dumb, or ignorant, or stuck in our old ways… Secondly, you never finished that statement. I’m curious to know, had your earring not fallen, what would you have said about Christians and our beliefs? That we’re not doing enough to protect our loved ones? I’m pretty sure the person who kidnap Etan wasn’t a real Christian. Does he get a pass on his ugly actions for not knowing God? By the way, the Bible’s called Good for a reason. Read it, you might actually figure it out!
Your suggestion that we implant our children was offensive as you categorized our little people as being on par with four-legged animals. You in fact, recognized that we confine our animals. Is that what you want for our youth? To lock them in a psychological, voyeuristic jail where they know that every thing they do is tracked? Where’s Johnny? Oh, he had too much milk at dinner, he’s been in the bathroom for half an hour.
What saddens me more than your one comment, however, was the insane support from your co-hosts. Sherri’s suggestion that an implant be designed to dissolve once a person reaches the age of 18 has so many problems wrapped in it I can’t even get my head around it. Joy said parents need peace of mind. I absolutely agree. But does she really think having a tracking device in my child is going to give that to me? Yes, Elisabeth, that is “too Big Brother” for me.
Certainly there will always be ugly crimes against the world, against children. But your solution does nothing but lower their status to that of cattle branding. Why not have them tattooed:
“If found, please return to Mother.”
Even the best of families experience tragedy. Implanting a tracking device into our children is merely an invasion of privacy and alienation of human rights. If it’s allowed by the parents, where would it stop? School coaches would need to make sure their athletes aren’t getting into trouble. Government employees should definitely be kept on a tight leash so they don’t divulge secrets. We wouldn’t want them to keep unsavory company.
Perhaps we could include a low-volt shock to correct bad behavior. Don’t make faces at your sister, Johnny. Finish your homework, Martha. Watch your language. Change your clothes. I don’t like your hairstyle. Fix it. Fix it! FIX IT!
Where would it stop? The crazy idea that we can protect our children by belittling them, by lowering their status to the same classifications that we give farm animals and pets is ridiculous, insulting, and demeaning.
Let’s put an dog collar on you and place you inside an electric fence for a week. Then you can tell me how great it was that no one snatched you out of your yard. Sure, you wouldn’t be able to go out to coffee with your friends, but you’d be safe. You’d have to send people out to run errands for you, but you’d be safe. You might miss out on some great adventures, but, you know, at least you’d be safe.
I have an idea. Let’s try to keep our kids safe without forgetting that they’re kids. I don’t have the solution. I don’t know what will work. But I know implants won’t. Because guaranteed someone somewhere has already thought up the anti-solution.
But let’s at least not forget our kids are kids. And they’re entitled to feel like parts of their world is safe. Not dictated under the guise of being “for their own good”.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
This post was featured on the BlogHer.com network on April 23, 2012.
Apr 23, 2012 |
I admit, I didn’t jump on the whole “It’s Easy Being Green” bandwagon. I didn’t turn my power off for an hour. I didn’t recycle a million soda cans.
But I have enjoyed my earth today. I’ve fed birds and lizards. I’ve lightly watered drought-tolerant plants and trees. We tried to let our cats outside to enjoy some fresh air, but Lizzie didn’t like the wetness as I’d just watered the plants; Berry didn’t mind being held as long as we didn’t stray too far from the patio; Fluffy upchucked as soon as she passed the threshold, Sparkles was a bit explorative; and Little wanted to see the sights.
And then, since we had do a tiny bit of tree trimming, we snipped one thin branch about four feet long and brought it inside. The cats have taken turns playing with their newfound jungle.
All in all, I’m pretty happy in my corner of the world, and while I’m not an eco-activist, I am doing my part to take care of my part, my corner.
So. What did you do for Earth Day?
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
