This week has been so enlightening. Well actually, this is far from the first time I've been graced with unsolicited analysis on social media, but this is the first time I've actually found it entertaining. The situation was so choreographed, I just couldn't take it seriously, but I stepped into the dance. I don't usually appreciate being singled out in a thread comment, even for something good, but admonition and analysis, double score! And by more than one participant!
Although you might not guess it from the amount of writing I do, I don't write lengthy comments on social media. I've been called "Queen of the One Liners." To make a point in the midst of a thread started by another, doesn't need to be a full dissertation. Basically, when it comes to forums and social media, even the old yahoo groups, one agrees or disagrees. Some of the old groups used to actually raise a discussion or two, but they didn't last long. As for forums, it didn't take long to see where everyone stood on most issues and they began to fizzle out as well. As for the latest in internet socializing, it's time to face facts, most of us on the computer aren't really all that sociable. We're not anti-social, it's just obvious that our social calendars are not full.
Social media does seem to accommodate those looking for their fifteen minutes of fame. Anybody can claim any authority they choose and run with it on social media . . . and although I've made some genuine friends, I also tend to draw wannabe leaders and amateur psychologists. Now the wannabe leaders, have their initial humble and "hung up" schtick, with lots of rules in dealing with them. See that's the key right there. They claim to want no attention, yet want plenty of focus, and it has to be done properly. A lot of "my wall" rules. I do my best to even refrain from comment, but when I agree with something, just hit "like" because that seems important to that individual.
As a socially awkward individual, myself, I still stumble and struggle through "real time" interaction both on and off line. Except when sharing information, I prefer to simply listen or read. I think we can speak the truth on specific matters, and should; but the bottom line is, everyone doesn't have time to hear everyone's details. That's not uncaring, that's just time management. Of course, I'll share a praise report, or some goat and gardening insight. I definitely sound warnings through this publication, and I've written some very personal information for those who struggle, but I believe everything including my words, should have purpose. I simply do not feel the need to comment on everything, nor do I desire to know all the personal details of another person's life. When someone feels the need to analyze that, I realize they are coming from their perspective.
The instruction to love our neighbor as we love ourself has been weighing heavily on me lately. Being real seems to be defined now, by "airing dirty laundry." I'm of a different opinion. To air all "my dirty laundry" would be a facade and not who I am at all. I love to laugh and I enjoy stimulating discussions, but I am horrible at small talk. I'm a good listener when it comes to folks desiring counsel, but I no longer serve as a place to vent so they can stay in their mess. If I truly love my neighbor, which applies to anyone interact with, both real time and internet, I must be honest. In that honesty is the fact, I don't care to make comment on everything and most of the things I do say are not aimed at anyone specifically. Also in that love of neighbor, I must realize, everyone does not share my perspective. We don't have to agree on everything to be nice and love can be tough, but it doesn't have to be continuously confrontational or analytical. Love thy neighbor as you love yourself seems to hold the standard of the Golden Rule. Perhaps I've been missing something . . .
This just occurred to me. Maybe all the confrontational folks and amateur psychologists would like others to reach out to them in the same manner.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Monday, April 20, 2015
Self-Control
Self-control seems to be pretty rare when it comes to the fruit of the Spirit. There are so many ways we seem to be able to justify a lack of control by calling it "righteous anger" or "protecting others" or even "the truth hurts." Sometimes any and all of those can be the case, but not nearly as frequently as we like to rationalize. I've heard some very harsh things said, cruel actually, and the person just shrugs and says, "I was only being honest." There are also many behaviors in our society that are "excused" by labels, as if that removes the personal responsibility. Sadly, in many cases, we spiritualize "the flesh" and that is far from producing the fruit of the Spirit.
The area of self-control in which I struggle the most, is my tongue. Between some personal situations, and of course social media, I've come to understand the power of silence, but it takes a great deal of self-control at the time. Actually, the self-control I've been gaining through the Spirit, is the absence for the need to be understood, accepted, or have the last word. The only thing about my entire life and being that needs to be understood by another, is the amazing awesome message of the Good News. YHWH says His Word is final. When that sank in, I realized, trying to have the last word is playing G-d . . .
I once wrote a poem about the fruit of the Spirit, and the last verse went something like this . . .
Dear Father, it seemed as if there's been no progress,
Producing the fruit of the Spirit cannot be done by mental fortitude or "turning over a new leaf," but by surrender to YHWH. I'm not sure I have the words, yet; to accurately convey what I mean, but I'm going to try. I cannot make myself produce the fruit of the Spirit, none of us can. I can, however; discipline myself to "stay out of the way" and not become defensive or offensive. I can be disciplined by Torah [the school master] as Paul called it, to want to observe Abba's Instructions more than I want to defend myself or my own ideas . . . but it truly takes the mind of Messiah and the words of Torah written on my heart, which are both given by the Spirit of YHWH not produced in my own power.
In my case to control my tongue, I have to be very careful what thoughts I entertain. That is up to me! When I surrender my right to ruminate and discipline myself to take my own thoughts captive, the thoughts no longer hold me captive. I have found the previously listed fruit of the Spirit have been instrumental in producing self-control. They appear to be in an order . . . Abba does all things decently and in order.
We so often, at least I do, picture gentle rains and glorious sunshine for fruit production, but there's more. My heart has to be "good soil" and like it or not, there is fertilizer involved. It's so easy to remain calm and appearing to produce beautiful fruit, but when circumstances stink, the real production takes place, or not . . .
It's easy to love someone who loves me. It's so easy to have joy when I'm out for morning chores with birds singing and animals surrounding me as I say the Shema. With no television and no rush hour traffic, peace is nearly a given. The first three in the list seem easier, in that we can find a "happy place," often alone or with our special folk, but then . . . in the list is longsuffering. Some translations use the term, patience, but that's a rather flowery way to gloss over the true meaning. Longsuffering, is much more accurate. I can tell you, the longer you kick against that lesson the longer the suffering situation will remain. It seems in my life, longsuffering and self-control are quite intertwined.
There are two things I say for victory, when the temptation to lose self-control of the tongue is presented. First and foremost is the prayer of Psalm 141:3. I ask YHWH to "put a guard over my mouth." The second, I try to say to myself, but a couple of times, it's actually been stated aloud in the circumstances. "I do not want what is bouncing through my head to come flying out my mouth."
The Spirit of the Living Creator has really brought me to the point I do desire His Will over mine, even in circumstances I find adverse. It hasn't happened all at once, and it still doesn't happen 100% of the time, but it truly has become my heart's desire.
The area of self-control in which I struggle the most, is my tongue. Between some personal situations, and of course social media, I've come to understand the power of silence, but it takes a great deal of self-control at the time. Actually, the self-control I've been gaining through the Spirit, is the absence for the need to be understood, accepted, or have the last word. The only thing about my entire life and being that needs to be understood by another, is the amazing awesome message of the Good News. YHWH says His Word is final. When that sank in, I realized, trying to have the last word is playing G-d . . .
I once wrote a poem about the fruit of the Spirit, and the last verse went something like this . . .
Dear Father, it seemed as if there's been no progress,
When I lipped off the other day.
I know it appeared, I still lack self-control,
But You know, I had so much more to say!
In my case to control my tongue, I have to be very careful what thoughts I entertain. That is up to me! When I surrender my right to ruminate and discipline myself to take my own thoughts captive, the thoughts no longer hold me captive. I have found the previously listed fruit of the Spirit have been instrumental in producing self-control. They appear to be in an order . . . Abba does all things decently and in order.
We so often, at least I do, picture gentle rains and glorious sunshine for fruit production, but there's more. My heart has to be "good soil" and like it or not, there is fertilizer involved. It's so easy to remain calm and appearing to produce beautiful fruit, but when circumstances stink, the real production takes place, or not . . .
It's easy to love someone who loves me. It's so easy to have joy when I'm out for morning chores with birds singing and animals surrounding me as I say the Shema. With no television and no rush hour traffic, peace is nearly a given. The first three in the list seem easier, in that we can find a "happy place," often alone or with our special folk, but then . . . in the list is longsuffering. Some translations use the term, patience, but that's a rather flowery way to gloss over the true meaning. Longsuffering, is much more accurate. I can tell you, the longer you kick against that lesson the longer the suffering situation will remain. It seems in my life, longsuffering and self-control are quite intertwined.
There are two things I say for victory, when the temptation to lose self-control of the tongue is presented. First and foremost is the prayer of Psalm 141:3. I ask YHWH to "put a guard over my mouth." The second, I try to say to myself, but a couple of times, it's actually been stated aloud in the circumstances. "I do not want what is bouncing through my head to come flying out my mouth."
The Spirit of the Living Creator has really brought me to the point I do desire His Will over mine, even in circumstances I find adverse. It hasn't happened all at once, and it still doesn't happen 100% of the time, but it truly has become my heart's desire.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
An Interesting Dream
Most of my dreams seem fairly insignificant. I do have a few that I recognize to be of spiritual significance, but I really don't have all that many memorable dreams. I do, however; dream in color. Having now used three sentences to say nothing, let's get to the point.
I dreamed I was speaking to a group of young women. In the dream I was aware that all of these young ladies had some sort of inferiority complex in regard to their appearance and/or shape. The group, as I remember, was basically average. No one was dramatically beautiful or intensely homely. The young women were not what I would call obese, but all indicated they were not pleased with their weight or their appearance. They were all in search of "something" that would make them more attractive, which was to be the topic of my presentation.
As I spoke, I produced past photos of myself through the years. This would be very out of character for me, in that I consistently hated to have my picture taken, always feeling fat and ugly. With each photo, I gave my age and basic life circumstances at the time. The presentation was somewhat interactive, so the girls made comments and asked questions throughout. With each explanation on that trip down memory lane, a different girl would raise her hand to offer some sort of acknowledgement or insight. It was amazing how many of the girls just couldn't understand why I had such low self esteem in those photos. I responded with the same question and comment to them.
In the dream I seemed so natural and relaxed, which in and of itself is odd . . . One photo, stood out amongst all the others. It was a wedding photo in which I was so thin, my complexion was ashen. They asked me how I felt about myself at that time, and I answered honestly. It was the one time and last person who made me feel desirable, but . . . I was really sacrificing my health to be that size and more importantly, by then I realized, I was counting on him to make me feel like a woman. Ultimately, when the new wore off and it was time to just be a couple, I blew it. He loved me, or at least tried to love me, for who I truly was. My youth and weight made no difference to him, but my inferiority complex was so deep, I couldn't grasp that. As I shared that with the girls, they fell contemplatively silent. I could see their wheels turning.
In sharing the last wedding photo, I shared with the girls that I truly thought I "had it together" spiritually, emotionally, and was physically comfortable in my own skin, until . . . my honeymoon was a disaster and I found myself hanging on by a thread, spiritually. I clung to Messiah. Many times over, I found myself quoting the Psalm about the Rock that is higher than I. Something had to change, and I was obligated to my circumstances. It would take me a full 10 years to realize my self-image was not based upon how someone else, that man, looked at me. In 2012, I looked in the mirror, finally happy with the reflection looking back.
As I moved out from behind the podium, I stood there 57 and full figured, and simply stated. "I like myself the way Abba created me to be. Being content is beautiful!"
As I spoke, I produced past photos of myself through the years. This would be very out of character for me, in that I consistently hated to have my picture taken, always feeling fat and ugly. With each photo, I gave my age and basic life circumstances at the time. The presentation was somewhat interactive, so the girls made comments and asked questions throughout. With each explanation on that trip down memory lane, a different girl would raise her hand to offer some sort of acknowledgement or insight. It was amazing how many of the girls just couldn't understand why I had such low self esteem in those photos. I responded with the same question and comment to them.
In the dream I seemed so natural and relaxed, which in and of itself is odd . . . One photo, stood out amongst all the others. It was a wedding photo in which I was so thin, my complexion was ashen. They asked me how I felt about myself at that time, and I answered honestly. It was the one time and last person who made me feel desirable, but . . . I was really sacrificing my health to be that size and more importantly, by then I realized, I was counting on him to make me feel like a woman. Ultimately, when the new wore off and it was time to just be a couple, I blew it. He loved me, or at least tried to love me, for who I truly was. My youth and weight made no difference to him, but my inferiority complex was so deep, I couldn't grasp that. As I shared that with the girls, they fell contemplatively silent. I could see their wheels turning.
In sharing the last wedding photo, I shared with the girls that I truly thought I "had it together" spiritually, emotionally, and was physically comfortable in my own skin, until . . . my honeymoon was a disaster and I found myself hanging on by a thread, spiritually. I clung to Messiah. Many times over, I found myself quoting the Psalm about the Rock that is higher than I. Something had to change, and I was obligated to my circumstances. It would take me a full 10 years to realize my self-image was not based upon how someone else, that man, looked at me. In 2012, I looked in the mirror, finally happy with the reflection looking back.
As I moved out from behind the podium, I stood there 57 and full figured, and simply stated. "I like myself the way Abba created me to be. Being content is beautiful!"
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Getting My Hum On
I've sort of wandered away from music and that's not been good, but it's been so hard . . . I've let the enemy steal from me. Musical talent is certainly not my long suit, but I do or I should say did have a song in my heart and was usually humming. Years ago, I prayed to be able to play the piano in a little country church. Adonai answered that prayer, and that's where I met my last husband . . . Music just hasn't been the same since.
Mr. B has perfect pitch. So perfect, apparently, he can't be bothered with actually serving in some sort of musical ministry capacity. He is, however; perfectly aware if I hit the wrong note or don't include enough notes. So music waned severely for me. I did have a small sound and broadcasting system, and several CDs, that played continuously, but he tweaked it, so it doesn't work anymore. After taking forced piano lessons and school choir growing up, it hasn't taken much criticism for me to just avoid the keyboard all together, and you know what. That's not anybody's fault but mine.
Upon giving up keyboard and CD sing alongs, I began humming. I used to go into the Tabernacle alone and play and sing, but I don't do that anymore, and I should. I can't blame others for what I'm simply choosing to not do. Even though I'm not terribly talented, I truly miss music, but I just can't bring myself to not worry about who is listening. My self-consciousness is quite deeply rooted. I've told myself that being self-conscious is still a focus on self, but I haven't made much headway.
Zephaniah 3:17 spoke to me some time back as I saw that Abba sings over me. I truly do want to bring pleasure to Him, and singing seems to be significant. It's time that my joy in YHWH overflows into joyful noise! Recently, however; I've noticed myself humming, once again. He doesn't require perfect pitch or four part harmony, just a joyful noise. That I can do!
Mr. B has perfect pitch. So perfect, apparently, he can't be bothered with actually serving in some sort of musical ministry capacity. He is, however; perfectly aware if I hit the wrong note or don't include enough notes. So music waned severely for me. I did have a small sound and broadcasting system, and several CDs, that played continuously, but he tweaked it, so it doesn't work anymore. After taking forced piano lessons and school choir growing up, it hasn't taken much criticism for me to just avoid the keyboard all together, and you know what. That's not anybody's fault but mine.
Upon giving up keyboard and CD sing alongs, I began humming. I used to go into the Tabernacle alone and play and sing, but I don't do that anymore, and I should. I can't blame others for what I'm simply choosing to not do. Even though I'm not terribly talented, I truly miss music, but I just can't bring myself to not worry about who is listening. My self-consciousness is quite deeply rooted. I've told myself that being self-conscious is still a focus on self, but I haven't made much headway.
Zephaniah 3:17 spoke to me some time back as I saw that Abba sings over me. I truly do want to bring pleasure to Him, and singing seems to be significant. It's time that my joy in YHWH overflows into joyful noise! Recently, however; I've noticed myself humming, once again. He doesn't require perfect pitch or four part harmony, just a joyful noise. That I can do!
Sunday, March 29, 2015
When "They" Forget
Do you ever have one of those days or weeks, or even months, in which the folks you deal with forget "they" are dealing with royalty? What do we do, when that happens? I've pretty much run the gambit on reaction and response and I am here to testify today, a soft answer that requires no further discourse is, of course the best, as it turns away wrath. I can also testify today, I don't always choose that, but I always regret when I don't. I now have a confession to make that I really do think could get the better of me . . . I'm not opposed to receiving the silent treatment. Way back when I was a new bride the seventh time around, Mr. B told me the worse thing I could ever do to him, was to give him the silent treatment. He asked me to please never do that, it was just so hurtful. Imagine my surprise when I soon experienced the silent treatment from him. At first, I wanted to get angry, and did; knowing he was trying to be mean, but in time a light came on!
When people do what they don't like done to them, they are acting out of their own unhappiness or shortcomings, and not necessarily something the other person has done at all. The opposite of "the Golden Rule" is the "Tarnished Brass Rule" and many people these days, live by that! Rather than doing unto others what they'd like done to them, they do unto others, that which most offends them . . . It happens more often than we realize and the lesson I've learned in this, is clear. I don't want to live by the "Tarnished Brass Rule" even when I'm dealing with someone who does. The temptation is, of course, right there! To yield to that temptation would be disobeying the words of Messiah, therefore; it would be sin . . . is sin, has been sin.
Surprisingly, most of the big religions have some form of the Golden Rule, and yet the world tends to operate by what I now call, the Tarnished Brass Rule. The Tarnished Brass Rule is upheld entirely too much. So many are determined to get even, seek vengeance, and make a point, while treating others as we'd like to be treated goes by the way side to make our point. I've found myself in a strange situation just the past few days, and there have been a few times I've yielded to the temptation to operate by the Tarnished Brass Rule.
I've repented, asked forgiveness, then turned right around and behaved tarnished again! What a struggle it's been, but I've also come to a realization.
The only way to remind myself and those who forget they are dealing with royalty, is to behave like the royalty that I am, and that means even when faced with the Tarnished Brass Rule, the Golden Rule is the rule of my King.
When people do what they don't like done to them, they are acting out of their own unhappiness or shortcomings, and not necessarily something the other person has done at all. The opposite of "the Golden Rule" is the "Tarnished Brass Rule" and many people these days, live by that! Rather than doing unto others what they'd like done to them, they do unto others, that which most offends them . . . It happens more often than we realize and the lesson I've learned in this, is clear. I don't want to live by the "Tarnished Brass Rule" even when I'm dealing with someone who does. The temptation is, of course, right there! To yield to that temptation would be disobeying the words of Messiah, therefore; it would be sin . . . is sin, has been sin.
Surprisingly, most of the big religions have some form of the Golden Rule, and yet the world tends to operate by what I now call, the Tarnished Brass Rule. The Tarnished Brass Rule is upheld entirely too much. So many are determined to get even, seek vengeance, and make a point, while treating others as we'd like to be treated goes by the way side to make our point. I've found myself in a strange situation just the past few days, and there have been a few times I've yielded to the temptation to operate by the Tarnished Brass Rule.
I've repented, asked forgiveness, then turned right around and behaved tarnished again! What a struggle it's been, but I've also come to a realization.
The only way to remind myself and those who forget they are dealing with royalty, is to behave like the royalty that I am, and that means even when faced with the Tarnished Brass Rule, the Golden Rule is the rule of my King.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Late Bloomer, Coming of Age
Finally, what I see in the mirror is a reflection of who my Creator made me to be, and I like it. He's still working on me, I haven't arrived, but I'm happy with the light in my eyes, the laugh lines in my countenance and the permanent furrows in my brow from thinking. Granted I have some wear and tear that I'm not so proud of, but that's all in the past, the distant past, and the only time that comes up is by virtue of the adversary. As I looked in the mirror this recent birthday, I was happy to see the injuries from my fall were healing nicely and appeared to be leaving no scars. I was beyond delighted that Abba had comforted me through that difficult time of recovery while I was trying to keep up and tend to newly arriving livestock.
As I looked in the mirror, the single regret I had was that I had not appreciated the way Abba created me, sooner. All of the things that had made me stand out in the past, are a part of who I am and I'm just so sorry, I was always trying to diminish my uniqueness and fade into the wall paper. I am who I am. I am a tribal, earthy woman, who is creatively practical, and a noticeable presence. My hair is long and silver and I have no desire to dye it or cut it. I like what Proverbs says about silver hair. I like what Paul said about a woman's long hair. It does feel glorious! I've been self-conscious about being brown and buxom for over 40 years, and suddenly, at 57, it's great! There really is a point to this, beyond "loving my self" in print. I got to thinking what an insult it must have been to our Creator to always be trying to change His handiwork or not being content in my own skin.
Was I being covetous of what He'd given others and how He'd made them? Without a doubt, I could be a little lighter, not in skintone, but weight wise, however; I cannot be a size 6 without being self abusive, and unhealthy. There's absolutely nothing wrong with fuller figure sizes, and for those like myself, not all bodies are a perfect match top and bottom, either. There's nothing wrong with different sizes between a top and skirt, or altering a dress to accommodate our figure. Scripturally, we are called to be modest, but thankfully, model sizes are not required. I read an article this week about the CEO of Abercrombie & Fitch. He says he doesn't make large sizes because he doesn't want his clothes on imperfect bodies. Here's a quote from one article . ". . . A lot of people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely.” I'm happy to be excluded and I wouldn't encourage kids and grandkids to want his clothes either!
Back to being gracious and grateful regarding our Creator's handiwork. This is not a new age notion that we must all love ourselves, but more importantly to be content with what G-d has given us, including our body. I wish I'd have appreciated my uniqueness sooner. Unfortunately, like so many for so many years, I bought into the social definition of what it is to be beautiful, and the pressure to have the perfect body. I don't need physical perfection when I've been blessed with the presence of the One Who is Perfect. He's placed in me a wholeness that I didn't even understand a person could have. He made me specifically for a purpose and a plan. Nobody else can be who He made me to be!
As I looked in the mirror, the single regret I had was that I had not appreciated the way Abba created me, sooner. All of the things that had made me stand out in the past, are a part of who I am and I'm just so sorry, I was always trying to diminish my uniqueness and fade into the wall paper. I am who I am. I am a tribal, earthy woman, who is creatively practical, and a noticeable presence. My hair is long and silver and I have no desire to dye it or cut it. I like what Proverbs says about silver hair. I like what Paul said about a woman's long hair. It does feel glorious! I've been self-conscious about being brown and buxom for over 40 years, and suddenly, at 57, it's great! There really is a point to this, beyond "loving my self" in print. I got to thinking what an insult it must have been to our Creator to always be trying to change His handiwork or not being content in my own skin.
Was I being covetous of what He'd given others and how He'd made them? Without a doubt, I could be a little lighter, not in skintone, but weight wise, however; I cannot be a size 6 without being self abusive, and unhealthy. There's absolutely nothing wrong with fuller figure sizes, and for those like myself, not all bodies are a perfect match top and bottom, either. There's nothing wrong with different sizes between a top and skirt, or altering a dress to accommodate our figure. Scripturally, we are called to be modest, but thankfully, model sizes are not required. I read an article this week about the CEO of Abercrombie & Fitch. He says he doesn't make large sizes because he doesn't want his clothes on imperfect bodies. Here's a quote from one article . ". . . A lot of people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely.” I'm happy to be excluded and I wouldn't encourage kids and grandkids to want his clothes either!
Back to being gracious and grateful regarding our Creator's handiwork. This is not a new age notion that we must all love ourselves, but more importantly to be content with what G-d has given us, including our body. I wish I'd have appreciated my uniqueness sooner. Unfortunately, like so many for so many years, I bought into the social definition of what it is to be beautiful, and the pressure to have the perfect body. I don't need physical perfection when I've been blessed with the presence of the One Who is Perfect. He's placed in me a wholeness that I didn't even understand a person could have. He made me specifically for a purpose and a plan. Nobody else can be who He made me to be!
Sunday, March 15, 2015
The Best Birthday in Years
Birthdays have never been easy for me, and I'm not talking about aging. My birthday made me uneasy as a child. It was a day focused on me, and being the center of attention has always made me uncomfortable. As an adult it was easier to have my birthday alone, and play it off as "just another day," but it wasn't "just another day." Being alone with nobody looking at me, was my birthday gift to myself! That's what I wanted! I do appreciate the effort of others, but it was always just truly painful to be "looked at." As I got older, I loved the fact my birthday celebration would be relegated to the nearest convenient weekend or even better just a card and phone call. My recent birthday, 57, became very freeing of something I've carried around since my worst birthday as an adult, my 44th.
We should celebrate life, as well as assessing accomplishments and goals, and a birthday serves as a good mile marker in life for each of us. I now see, however; why birthday parties in the Bible are rarely mentioned and the ones that were, ended badly for someone . . . When planning my last wedding, we chose the day before my birthday. When discussing it, I told Mr. B, I wanted to get married before my birthday or wait until after his . . . but we'd both already been married in June, so we should then wait until July; his response was succinct. He said I was too logical to be looking at it so emotionally and illogically. I shrugged and said, "Well, if I'm usually logical, will you just cut me some slack on this one?" I was thinking we would marry in July, before he made the life changing statement. He said, "Let's get married before your birthday. If we don't keep moving forward, we'll start going backward." I can't count the number of times, I've rethought that discussion, as our constant direction has been consistently backward and perpetually moving away from the covenant vow.
I'd already shared with him, my desire to spend my birthday alone, or not on display, and he seemed to understand that, so here I think an anniversary/birthday back to back he'd protect me from ever having to be the center of another birthday party. I got it partially correct . . . On the evening of March 4th, the day before my 44th birthday, we exchanged vows. I had no idea I'd be in the ladies department of Wal-Mart at midnight ushering in my 44th birthday. Nor could I have realized that would be the highlight of the day.
After the guests had left our wedding, he suddenly wanted to go to Wal-Mart to purchase a nightgown for our "special night." I had purchased a tasteful negligée at Dillards before the wedding. Nothing amazingly sexy, and it was on clearance, but it was nice, a great price, and had a gorgeous robe . . . As I stood in Wal-Mart watching him look through the chintzy sleepwear, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind. The one that just kept "sticking" turned out to be worse and truer than I could have ever imagined. Although I'm low maintenance and appreciate a good bargain, I'm about the farthest thing from "off the discount rack" you can get. He was used to a much different type of woman than the one he had just married, and in the coming months, the recounts of his sexcapades would prove that.
As midnight turned into morning, after voting and telling his mother he'd gotten married since she had already stated she wanted no invitation and would not attend, we headed to one of the grandest Old Hotels in the midwest; only to have the day end very anticlimactically . . . Not only was this birthday horrible, I was trapped out of town with a man who was more than obviously not desirous of me, and thanks to the restaurant scene in "When Harry Met Sally" my marriage was now on a very firm, dishonest foundation . . . Definitely the worst birthday of my adult life! I'd made some bonehead decisions in my late teens and early twenties, but this caused me to doubt the very foundation of my faith.
As the years moved from my forties to my fifties, I asked politely, I cried, I begged, I demanded, I even gave an ultimatum one year . . . to have a birthday in which I was simply left alone, but it all fell on deaf ears. I finally came to realize, what I wanted simply made no difference to this man. He could look at me, he could look at my tears, he could hear my cries, and simply stare back in cold disregard. He simply did not care what I wanted.
This year, I took the bull by the horns, looked at myself in the mirror and said to myself, "Self, it's up to you! You can keep whining for what you wanted all those years ago, or you can embrace a new desire!" To that, I realized, I can have a positive day, a productive day, if and when I do not give someone else the power to ruin my day. Since we are not equally yoked and joined, we are not one. With that, I decided to go to the goat auction and if he tagged along, it would not make or break my day. Naturally, Mr. B insisted upon going and having lunch out. It wasn't my first choice, but then again, I don't have to cook, and realizing my birthday is finally just no big deal, I agreed. When I went to the restroom, he informed the waitress that it was my birthday, so at no cost or effort on his part, long after the lunch crowd has dispersed, I received a nice birthday dessert, which I graciously shared . . . There was no crowd staring, no cameras, just a simple reality that my life has moved on and it's seriously time to just focus on what is important!
I'm setting aside and allowing all the past failures to be just that . . . The Past! My focus, now, is to spend the rest of my life and energy on that for which I have been given talents and gifts. At 57, I'm 18 years younger than Abraham when he received his call and 23 years younger than when Moses saw the burning bush!
We should celebrate life, as well as assessing accomplishments and goals, and a birthday serves as a good mile marker in life for each of us. I now see, however; why birthday parties in the Bible are rarely mentioned and the ones that were, ended badly for someone . . . When planning my last wedding, we chose the day before my birthday. When discussing it, I told Mr. B, I wanted to get married before my birthday or wait until after his . . . but we'd both already been married in June, so we should then wait until July; his response was succinct. He said I was too logical to be looking at it so emotionally and illogically. I shrugged and said, "Well, if I'm usually logical, will you just cut me some slack on this one?" I was thinking we would marry in July, before he made the life changing statement. He said, "Let's get married before your birthday. If we don't keep moving forward, we'll start going backward." I can't count the number of times, I've rethought that discussion, as our constant direction has been consistently backward and perpetually moving away from the covenant vow.
I'd already shared with him, my desire to spend my birthday alone, or not on display, and he seemed to understand that, so here I think an anniversary/birthday back to back he'd protect me from ever having to be the center of another birthday party. I got it partially correct . . . On the evening of March 4th, the day before my 44th birthday, we exchanged vows. I had no idea I'd be in the ladies department of Wal-Mart at midnight ushering in my 44th birthday. Nor could I have realized that would be the highlight of the day.
After the guests had left our wedding, he suddenly wanted to go to Wal-Mart to purchase a nightgown for our "special night." I had purchased a tasteful negligée at Dillards before the wedding. Nothing amazingly sexy, and it was on clearance, but it was nice, a great price, and had a gorgeous robe . . . As I stood in Wal-Mart watching him look through the chintzy sleepwear, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind. The one that just kept "sticking" turned out to be worse and truer than I could have ever imagined. Although I'm low maintenance and appreciate a good bargain, I'm about the farthest thing from "off the discount rack" you can get. He was used to a much different type of woman than the one he had just married, and in the coming months, the recounts of his sexcapades would prove that.
As midnight turned into morning, after voting and telling his mother he'd gotten married since she had already stated she wanted no invitation and would not attend, we headed to one of the grandest Old Hotels in the midwest; only to have the day end very anticlimactically . . . Not only was this birthday horrible, I was trapped out of town with a man who was more than obviously not desirous of me, and thanks to the restaurant scene in "When Harry Met Sally" my marriage was now on a very firm, dishonest foundation . . . Definitely the worst birthday of my adult life! I'd made some bonehead decisions in my late teens and early twenties, but this caused me to doubt the very foundation of my faith.
As the years moved from my forties to my fifties, I asked politely, I cried, I begged, I demanded, I even gave an ultimatum one year . . . to have a birthday in which I was simply left alone, but it all fell on deaf ears. I finally came to realize, what I wanted simply made no difference to this man. He could look at me, he could look at my tears, he could hear my cries, and simply stare back in cold disregard. He simply did not care what I wanted.
This year, I took the bull by the horns, looked at myself in the mirror and said to myself, "Self, it's up to you! You can keep whining for what you wanted all those years ago, or you can embrace a new desire!" To that, I realized, I can have a positive day, a productive day, if and when I do not give someone else the power to ruin my day. Since we are not equally yoked and joined, we are not one. With that, I decided to go to the goat auction and if he tagged along, it would not make or break my day. Naturally, Mr. B insisted upon going and having lunch out. It wasn't my first choice, but then again, I don't have to cook, and realizing my birthday is finally just no big deal, I agreed. When I went to the restroom, he informed the waitress that it was my birthday, so at no cost or effort on his part, long after the lunch crowd has dispersed, I received a nice birthday dessert, which I graciously shared . . . There was no crowd staring, no cameras, just a simple reality that my life has moved on and it's seriously time to just focus on what is important!
I'm setting aside and allowing all the past failures to be just that . . . The Past! My focus, now, is to spend the rest of my life and energy on that for which I have been given talents and gifts. At 57, I'm 18 years younger than Abraham when he received his call and 23 years younger than when Moses saw the burning bush!
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