Empty me, Lord

I've been in a barren valley of destitution and loneliness for quite a while now. Yes, life has continued to whizz by and I've remained functional, dare I say, even "put together" from the outside. 


What's going on inside is a different story though. Altogether different. A stark contrast. I'm a mess. A gross, ugly, hormonal, sleep-deprived mess. I feel like I'm barely keeping it together. Running to and fro, busying myself with life's "needs" and "have tos." And I was SO determined not to let this holiday season run rampant while I'm chasing behind it with one shoe on and tangled hair ... 


I've come to a realization. I. NEED. JESUS. But, wait, you might ask, I thought you were a Christian? I know, confusing, right? Well, let me break it down for you. Anyone who's been a Christian for any length of time will tell you that there are times we get too complacent in our faith; we talk the talk, but we don't walk the walk. 


For the last ever-so-many months, I've been talking a big game, but I haven't been walking it. I've been hitting the ground running in the mornings, when what I really need is to hit the ground crawling, as in, on my knees. Before the Lord. I need to thank Him for another day (because every day truly is a gift) and ask for His mercies and HIS will in my life for that day. 


I need to involve God more in my life all day long. Talk to Him, cry out to Him, sing worship to Him, and, most importantly, LISTEN to Him. I need not be so wrapped up in my to-do list that I don't have time for my Lord and Savior. After all, is He not the reason I have life and this to-do list in the first place? 


This realization is humbling. It's little ole stubborn me finally saying, "I get it, Lord. I'm not in control. You are. I can't do this alone. Take my life because I'm making a mess of it." 


Perhaps it was the Lord who caused me to spill that half-gallon of creamer all over myself and the kitchen a few days ago while pancakes and bacon were burning on the stove and who caused my tank top strap to pop right off as I was hurriedly getting dressed this morning. I think it was. He's trying to get a hold of me; to shake me and wake me up. To tell me that what should matter most to me is HIM. His thoughts of me. His plan for my life. His will. 


I've arrived. I'm present now at the Lord's feet and waiting for His will to be exacted on  my life. Fully. Vivaciously. Richly. I need you, Lord Jesus. Calm me. Carry me. Empty me. 


Make my face a reflection of Yours and my life a reflection of Your grace. Empty me of anything that is not of You, but is of me. I want more of You and less of me. Your grace is sufficient for me. 

Handing Over the Reins

I'll spare anyone taking the time to read this (hello, is anyone out there?) my quips about being away so long. I'm just going to own the fact that, for now, I'm a sporadic blogger. Consistency is not my strong point in anything. I'm working on that with several things ... 


I blog when it's quiet and I have time to think. For the record, that is not a lot a time with a husband that travels and a three-and-a-half-year-old mini-me on the loose. I swear, my kid's got more energy than that annoying Energizer bunny, but at least he's infinitely cuter. 


Right now, the house is quiet and I'm thinking. Who am I kidding? I'm ALWAYS thinking. It's one of my many quirks; sometimes I like it, a lot of times I hate it. My mind never. turns. off. Never. Hello, my name is Krystal and I'm an overthinker. I've been overthinking for nearly 35 years now ... I digress. On to the nitty gritty.


Do you ever think about who you are? Why you act/react the way you do? Why you function the unique way you do?


I am all too guilty of this. I am constantly obsessing over who I am, why I act/react like I do, and what in the world the Lord wants out of this semi-crazy, but functioning brain of mine.


I'll take a second to just lay it out there and pronounce that I am an overly emotional person. Meaning, I have enough emotions for at least two, maybe three, people. Nearly everything I do comes from emotion. Thus, you can see the obsession with how and why I act and react as I do.


Running on emotions is like walking a dental-floss-thin tightrope with no safety net. It can be the best of times, and it can be the worst of times. When I'm feeling secure in who I am, it is the best rush of my life. I'm reaching out to people, trying to bless everyone I come in contact with, and generally feeling vivacious and full of the Spirit. It's utter euphoria.


BUT, and that's a big, strong but, when I'm insecure (which has been my homeland of late), I become a recluse and just want this big, bad world to leave me in peace. I question my relationships, whether I'm good enough, and what my little gestures even really do to make this world a better place. 


Much of the time, I feel a tug of war between these two worlds. I can vacillate between security and insecurity with the snap of a finger. 


Is this a woman thing, or is it just a me thing? Anyone else out there feel this way? 


After having a pretty rough go of it last week (progesterone blues, anyone?), I've resolved that I want to live my life on the secure side. I don't want my actions and reactions to be dictated by my surroundings, relationships, mood, etc. 


I desire to be a consistent version of me. The best me, the Spirit-filled me. I truly believe that's what the Lord desires of us. To be steadfast, to be strong, to be unwavering in His spirit. 


After all, if Jesus could look upon his mockers and take the shame of their sins in order to save us all, I can surely go about my days with joy and thanksgiving in my heart. 


I've been given so much; I don't want to wander through life being fickle and insecure. In doing so, I'm holding God back from what He wants to do with me. I'm barring the door for His light to shine through me to others. 


I've got to realize that it's not about me, it's about Him. It's not about my try; it's about His will. I need to unclutter my heart so that He can furnish His space there and make it warm and welcoming. Only then will others be able to see Him shine through me and seek to know Him more. That is my ultimate goal. 

Search me, O God, and know my heart;

Try me, and know my anxieties; 

And see if there is any wicked way in me,

 And lead me in the way everlasting.

~ Psalm 139:23-24

Choosing Strength

I found this gem on Pinterest today. So fitting and so true.

Source

I choose strength. Because that's what the Lord wants from me. Strength in Him. 

Trust in the LORD with all your heart 

and lean not on your own understanding; 

in all your ways submit to him, 

and he will make your paths straight.

~ Proverbs 3:5-6

Looking for Forward Momentum

Lately, I feel like the life I'm living is in a constant state of "two steps forward, ten steps back." And not in some fun, Paula Abdul and MC Skat Kat kind of way. You know, "Two steps forward, two steps back, we come together 'cause opposites attract ..."


Like, for every molehill I surmount, there's a mountain ahead of me I'm going to tumble tragically down. 


My kid actually listens one day when I ask him to pick up his toys and does so without any whining, bickering, or ignoring. Then, the next day he pinches someone at preschool and gets sent to the office.


I make a new friend and feel an instant, I've-known-you-all-my-life connection. Two days later, doubt creeps into my mind and I question whether this new friend even likes me at all. 


I manage to finally get the house cleaned and feel proud of my accomplishments. The next day, I remember that it's my husband's birthday in two days and I haven't even thought about what to get him. Not to mention, I've managed to miss my brothers' birthdays altogether and now have to tuck my tail between my legs and send the "it's late, so of course it's from me" gift. 


Some days, I feel like opening my arms and heart to the world, and shouting, "Bring on the day! Let me be a light unto this world and do all the good that I can with all that I'm given." I am Superwoman, trying to be everything to everyone and sincerely wanting to do it all right.


Other days, I want to put on the heaviest, thickest body armor around and close myself into my house, barring the windows and the doors, removing any piece of myself from connection to the outside world. I'm wallowing in self doubt and seriously wondering if one iota of my being really even matters to anyone else.


I suppose I could lay "blame" for this stage of my life on many things. Maybe it's life with a 3 1/2 year old. Maybe it's motherhood in general, which is not the most forgiving of professions. Maybe it's my hormones and the PCOS that's ravaging my body. Maybe it's Satan, trying to attack me where both he and God know I'm all too vulnerable. Maybe it's because I don't love myself, so I don't see where others should either. Maybe I'm in a valley of life right now, instead of on a peak. Maybe, and this is the scariest maybe of all, it's all true and I just don't stack up as a person the way I should. 


I truly don't know. I don't have the answers. If I did, I would do whatever necessary to remove myself from this rut. 


Why am I sharing this? Is it just to get anyone who happens to read it (as if anyone's still paying any attention to this pathetic blog) down in the doldrums with me? 


Nope. I'm sharing this for two reasons. 


1) This blog is about my life and I want it to be honest, so I'm sharing my life right now. Pockmarks and all. This is my free therapy session.


2) I hope that it will encourage anyone who reads it and feels the same way I do, and remind them that they're not alone. Alone is not a great way to feel. I feel it often, whether in a crowd or at home. 


I long to tie this post up in pretty paper with a neat bow, but I just can't. It's where I'm at right now. I just have to trust that God will meet me right where I am. 

Prayer

By: Henry David Thoreau

Great God, I ask for no meaner pelf
Than that I may not disappoint myself,
That in my action I may soar as high
As I can now discern with this clear eye.
And next in value, which thy kindness lends,
That I may greatly disappoint my friends,
Howe'er they think or hope that it may be,
They may not dream how thou'st distinguished me.

That my weak hand may equal my firm faith
And my life practice what my tongue saith
That my low conduct may not show
Nor my relenting lines
That I thy purpose did not know
Or overrated thy designs. 

I choose to ...

Love. 


That's it. A very simple, short blog post to iterate something that's been on my mind and heart for a while now. 


We have two choices in this world: we can love or we can hate. We can uplift or we can demean. It seems in today's society, it's cool to judge, criticize, condemn. It's passe to uplift, encourage, love. 


Let's put love back at the forefront. Not just because it's 13 days to Valentine's Day. Because it helps us be the best version of ourselves.


I'll leave it with this, an excerpt from my favorite book of the Bible.


Romans 12:9-21, subtitled "Love in Action"


 ⁹ Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. ¹⁰ Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. ¹¹ Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. ¹² Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. ¹³ Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.
 ¹⁴ Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. ¹⁵ Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. ¹⁶ Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.
 ¹⁷ Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. ¹⁸ If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.¹⁹ Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. ²⁰ On the contrary:
   “If your enemy is hungry, feed him;
   if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.”
 ²¹ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.


Blessings,
Miss K

More hours in the day ... week ... year?

OK, I know it's not just me. Oh, please, tell me it's not just me. Here's my conundrum:

Am I the ONLY ONE who sees what other moms have time for in their days/lives and wonders how in the world they get it all done and remain sane and somewhat put together? 

I'm really struggling with this one lately. Really. My token answer for most things tends to be that "I don't have time." Why is there a pile on the kitchen counter of Christmas cards? I don't have time to put them away. Why are there four separate piles on the desk of God-knows-what? I don't have time to file it all and decide if I should keep it and where it should go shall I decide to keep it. Why do I have 14 (yes, probably 14) scrapbooks that are blank and just waiting for me to put my little hands on them and create? I don't have time for that stuff. Between the laundry, house, three-year-old tornado, etc., I JUST DON'T HAVE TIME. 

I know my husband's sick of this answer. Frankly, I'm sick of this answer. It seems the more I see people who seem to have an infinite number of more hours in their day, the more it drags me down because I just assume I'm doing something wrong. I'm spending too much time out of the house, I'm on Facebook too much, I'm reading blogs too much, I'm blogging too much, I'm watching too much TV, etc. 

There is an ounce (perhaps more) of truth to this. I have an addictive personality and tend to gravitate toward time-sucking activities. Words With Friends, anybody? Hello! So, I have to own that portion of it. I need to start really examining A) what I do spend my time on and B) what I would rather be spending my time on. 

Let's face it: I'm never going to be one of these "It's 4 p.m. and I've fed the children twice, washed the windows, baked some muffins just because, worked on little Jimmy's ABCs with him, darned my husband's socks, and sewed new curtains for the living room just in time to begin my gourmet dinner of ham, potatoes, and homemade bread with bananas foster for dessert." Ehhh. Ain't gonna happen. And that's not really what I'm looking for anyway. 

I want to have more control over my time. Isn't that paradoxical? I do have control over my time. I really do. Ouch. That stung. Telling myself that hurt. You know why? Because it puts the responsibility all on me.  

I need to bring this before the Lord, every day. I need to recognize time management as a weakness of mine and ask for the Lord's direction and provision every day. 

It's like when Leonardo DiCaprio says in Titanic, "You learn to take life as it comes at you, to make each day count." I want to make each day count. Because, in the end, I'm not going to reminisce about how many friends I had on Facebook or how many years I watched a particular TV show, that will all be dust in the wind. I will reminisce about the people closest to me, the experiences that shaped me, and the winding path the Lord took me down. 

I want to recapture what is mine: my time. Here's to making it count! 

Drilling down

It's been a while since my last post. Forgive me, for I've been doing a lot of thinking (which I'm guilty of too often) and soul-searching. Many things have happened recently that have jarred me and turned my proverbial snow globe upside down and shaken it up. Fortunately, this was just what I needed and now that the snow has settled, I'm feeling ready to press on to my goals.

I came to a huge realization after I had some time to mull over my last post. I recalled that I am not me apart from God. God created me. He made me who I am, with every nuance and peccadillo. Feel free to utter "Duh!" right now because I already duh'd myself. Sometimes the simplest things are right in front of our eyes. 

By holding myself hostage to self-loathing and despair, I was telling God, "You did something wrong when you made me." "I'm a mistake." Don't you know that's an insult to God? How dare I tell my God, my Creator, that He made a mistake when he made me who I am? Whoa! I'm just unbelievably thankful that He's a forgiving God because that is not a slight mistake. It's like a slap in the face. And I need to take it back. Immediately.

You see, God made me in His image. He made me just the way I should be and uniquely from everyone else on this planet. The truth is, because I have not taken care of myself the way the Lord has commanded me to do, I am reaping the pitfalls of my lack of care. It says clearly in 1 Corinthians 6:19-20, "Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies."

I am being disobedient. Ouch. Perhaps that's why I hit the rough patch I did. To come to a realization that I need to change. I need to get back to honoring God and treating my body as a temple of the Holy Spirit, instead of as a landfill. 

With that, I need to recognize that I cannot do it by myself. I need the Lord's help. I need his guidance to get me back on track. Why is it so hard for us women to admit we need help? Oh boy, does pride come before a fall! 

I've been privy to situations recently that are coming across to me as gentle nudges from the Lord that this life is a gift and to treat it with care. Tomorrow is not promised. Things can change in an instant. I need to make the best use of my time while it's here. No more messing around; it's time to get to business. 

If anyone reading this has felt or feels the same way and needs a reminder that they are a unique creature, here's one of my favorite pieces that lives on my refrigerator as a reminder.

Just think, 
you're here not by chance, 
but by God's choosing. 
His hand formed you 
and made you the person you are. 
He compares you to no one else. 
You are one of a kind. 
You lack nothing 
that His grace can't give you. 
He has allowed you to be here 
at this time in history 
to fulfill His special purpose 
for this generation. 

~Roy Lessin

Blessings,

Miss K

Time to clear out some soul clutter

I don't know what it is about the waning evening hours that beckons me to bare my soul via this blog, but it is so and thus I must. 

I've decided I want to be the person I want to be in 2011. How trite, right? Seriously though, as contrived as it sounds, I want to be a me that I am proud of and that I love. Right now, that's a harsh reality I'm settling into. 

I've hit this stride in the last year or so of not loving myself. I tire of my appearance when I dare pass a mirror, I loathe these extra 30 some-odd pounds I can't seem to shake, and I feel like a hamster caught in a wheel, just running my life away. 

This sounds so spoiled brattish, no? To me, it does. You see, I have no problems to speak of. I have a healthy son who begs my attention at every breath, a wonderful, God-given husband who takes all of me and somehow manages to smile, the ability to stay home with my child, and a well-provided-for life that affords me luxuries many in this country don't have. What in the world do I have to be sad about? Yet I am, or at least, was. 

I think I fell into the dreaded vat that many stay-at-home moms do of just losing myself entirely. I became the spit-up dryer, the butt wiper, the chicken-nugget microwaver, the nagger, the yeller, the whiner, the I-don't-have-any-time-to-myself-and-it's-killing-me woman. Ugh! The woman I said I'd never be. Yet here she sits. 

Let me tell you who I used to be. You may be surprised. I used to be a journalist, an editor, a writer, a wordsmith, a ballroom dancer, a volleyball player, a softball player, a poet, a music junkie, a bibliophile, a fashionista, a teacher, an artist, an actress. These are all roles I've had in my life and most, if not all, are dear to me. 

What happened to all of these roles once I became a mom? They stopped. They not only stopped; they screeched to a grinding halt like bad brakes on an '86 Nissan.  It's like I accepted this role of mom from God, with an understanding that that was all I was going to be from then on. Nothing more, nothing less. Note that this is not what God asked of me; this is the limitation I put on myself. 

In the nearly three years since I've become a mom, I've spent a lot of time reflecting on myself. I've realized that abruptly jerking myself out of the workforce and a career that had become every ounce of my being was somewhat shocking. I was filled with excitement at the thought of being a mom, but the only world I truly understood was now a distant memory. 

I understood my career. I was good at it. I could keep up with the guys like the best of them and was well respected for my knowledge and God-given eagle eye for cleaning up manuscripts. It fit me. I thrived as an editor. Deadlines were a rush. Life was fun.

I thought I understood what being a mom was about. I thought, "How hard can it be?" Boy, was I wrong! I recall several times within the first year of my son's life asking myself out loud, "Maybe I'm the wrong girl for this?" I definitely felt at many times that my son got the short end of the stick. 

I thought if I loved him, fed him, changed him, that everything else would fall into place. Naivete at its best. I was now raising a child (which I'm highly surprised the Lord felt me fit to do) and suddenly responsible for managing the household as well. What did I get myself into?

I like a good challenge, but this challenge has been like no other. I am so thankful for it though, and wouldn't trade it for anything. I have been forced to take a hard look at myself many times over these last three years and evaluate what I see, like it or not. I have made some improvements and have learned a few of the ropes, but there are mountains and mountains of learning yet to come. Being a mother has been a soul-searching and -stretching like nothing I've ever experienced. Incredibly painful at times, but overly blissful at others.

It's taken me some time, but I've realized that I can be all that I want to be and still be a mother. My son won't be missing out if I take care of myself, if I take a bubble bath once in a while or hit the gym and leave him in day care. If anything, my son will be all the better for it. What's the good of devoting myself to my son if I only become resentful at said devotion because I'm not allowing myself the time to be my own person? 

I need to make changes. Big ones. I need to make them for me, but I also need to make them for my husband and my son. I am my son's example of a woman. I want him to see me and know that women are strong, beautiful, healthy, fulfilled, and self-confident. Right now, I fear he sees in me that women are tired, unhealthy, sad, unhappy, and discontent. 

I am going to make great strides in 2011. I'll be posting my goals, for the purposes of sharing and accountability. I would love it if anyone wants to share with me their thoughts on this subject or personal goals. I believe we can lift one another up in prayer and in life to help each of us reach our potential. 

I'm not the me I want to be just yet, but I'm accepting it and making inroads to get there. 

This is your life. Are you who you want to be?