Tracy’s view from the coffee cup

My Facebook feed is filled to overflowing with so many pictures and posts of random amazingness that I find in my family regularly. But it doesn’t show the absolute crazy mess that we all are – also pretty regularly. Well, the last two days were no exception to the crazy norm. I’m not going to lie. It was tough. And I failed my family miserably.

I don’t know what really was going on. Maybe the planets were in some crazy alignment. Maybe it was a full moon. (Who has the time to check on such things?) Maybe I was in some crazy hormone upside down-ness. I’m not sure why I didn’t handle it all properly. I yelled. A lot. I tolerated nothing. I’m pretty sure my daughter’s brain had left the building. We homeschool, so I’m not unused to random days of brilliance and random days of total cluelessness. Well, for whatever reason, for two days there was the random days of total cluelessness and general non-compliance of standard rules in the home. I yelled. She cried. My poor husband just watched in confusion.

Today is day three. I established a rule a while ago to get my child’s handwriting speedier that she has to write three sentences in cursive with proper capitalization and punctuation, including grammar rules she knows, before she’s allowed to watch tv or play games on her phone. The very first thing she decided to do was completely accurately (and unsolicited) write each of her very difficult spelling words before she wrote three beautiful sentences. She proudly brought her white board to me to see. She didn’t demand her screen time. She just smiled at me proudly.

I praised her. Oh, how I praised her. I told her how proud I was of her work and her effort as well as her beautiful attitude and respectful behavior. I have no clue why this morning was any different than any other morning. Maybe she got the proper sleep she needed. Maybe she just decided she didn’t enjoy the fighting anymore than I did. I don’t know.

But I then took the time to tell her how sorry I was for not handling our time and our struggle better. I asked for her forgiveness for my bad attitude and told her I would do so much better with God’s help. We hugged. She thanked me and apologized for messing up, too.

You would think, since we do a really good Bible study daily together, since we pray so often for guidance and for help with our attitudes, since we love one another so deeply, that we wouldn’t have days filled with bad attitudes and strife. I wish I could say we get it right all the time. But we don’t. It’s just the honest truth. My mouth and my foul attitude can get the better of me. Her youth and struggle to take control can get her into so much trouble. Daily we ask for help.

You know, the Bible tells me to ask for wisdom and it will be given to me liberally. I’m not on my own. When I ask for wisdom, I also include asking for wise friends who can help me and push me in the right direction. I ask for friends who are willing to confront me when I’m not in the right. One of my least favorite things to hear is, “Yeah, ‘cuz that’s what Jesus would do.” I know it’s most times in sarcasm meant to make me evaluate my actions or words. But it’s my favorite thing to know that my friends care enough to challenge me. If you’re reading this and were too afraid to speak up, just know that I treasure friendships that have a common goal of being more gentle, truthful, loving, honest, and generally happier. I’ll be good to receive correction with the right heart. I’m not perfect. But I’ll try my best. When I get it wrong, I’ll apologize.

Those two days in a row of craziness got me so upside down that I totally forgot about a commitment to serve a friend and my local church. I can’t let my emotions and situations take my brain away. I have a new morning today to get it right. It’s getting started on the right foot. I’m praying it stays that way.

I keep seeing reports of celebrities, teens, moms, friends, church people, just too many in general, people who have taken their own lives. I’m not responding to any one occurrence. There are just too many to choose from. Truly, this is something I feel so heartbroken about.

We within the church have failed. Do I believe that Jesus died for us all? Yes – a resounding Yes. Do I believe He died to heal us? Yes – another resounding Yes. Do I believe He died to heal us even from mental disease and disorder? Yes, I really do. But that does not mean our efforts as Christians stop at telling a person who is suffering that Jesus died to heal them of their troubles. We cannot drop it in the sufferer’s lap and hope for the best, sending love and prayers over the airwaves, so to speak. When will we step in and help the ones suffering through life’s traumas? When will we hear their cries for help and step in?

I remember going through some pretty horrific stuff in my life. We all have. I’m certainly not glorifying what I’ve been through. But I cannot speak about what others have been through, only what I have experienced. What I do remember is those that stepped in to help however they could. Some sat with me while I ate. Some ate with me. Some just sat with me. Do you know what they were doing? They were making sure I ate, not just asking the next day. Some called me and checked up on me to make sure I was at work and not home in bed crying. Some emailed (I know, that’s kind of passé these days). They emailed to pass along their love to me, so I wouldn’t forget that I have loved ones who care.

Do you want to know what I also remember about those times? I remember who wasn’t there. I remember those that family practically begged to step in and be there for me. I’m not pointing fingers at anyone. Life is busy and overwhelming. I get it. I assure you that this is a reality check and wake-up call for me as much as anyone. I’m so thankful that those that helped did. I’m so thankful for those that weren’t even what I would have thought of as close friends who came to me in my distress and reached out to help me up. Not once did I get a single person who told me that I didn’t need help or that Jesus was the only help I needed. I actually was given names AND phone numbers (come on, y’all. Being there means giving all the tools, not just a name) of counselors and people who would be willing to listen to my struggles.

I do realize fully that Jesus died and was resurrected for us so that we could have life in abundance. I do. But I also realize fully that He meets us right where we are to help us. He never once tells someone that they have to get everything right before He will help. Nope. It’s not how He works. Let’s stop telling Christians that it’s altogether wrong to see a counselor or use a medication for mental issues. There is a huge issue I see in the church where people using anti-depressants are hiding their struggles so Christians don’t wag their all-judging fingers at them for not leaning on faith to get them through life.

Yes, He can. Yes, He will. Yes, He is completely able.

But where were YOU when He found you? I don’t know your story, but I was a hot stinking mess. Never once did I hear from God that in order to obtain salvation, I must be cleaned up and be strong enough to handle all that life throws at me. No. God met me IN my mess. God meets us right where we are and begins to build us up from there. If my faith isn’t where I can lean on it to get me through something, then I must be willing to get help. Those around me who claim to care more than anyone, that’s us Christian warriors and people of prayer, must be willing to lead me to the right help without judgement or condemnation for what I may need to begin the process of being filled with His righteousness. It has to start somewhere. It has to even start in the church. We MUST be willing to set aside judgement and meet people where they are – IN their hot mess of trouble.

Somehow, we seem more willing to step out and rescue drug addicts and alcoholics but leave the mentally unstable to themselves. We preach at them about how anti–depressants somehow are against Christian standards. How many diabetics do you know? I know A WHOLE LOT! Most of my family is diabetic. Did you know that one of the side effects of medications for diabetics is depression? Is that their fault? Is that not walking in the Truth? So many medications have crazy side effects that most of us know nothing about, but we are very quick to say how anti-depressants are so against the will of God. What IS against the will of God is His people struggling alone and ashamed to ask for help. We are the ones to blame for that.

I know. Most of us aren’t really the ones to blame. I personally would tell anyone I know who is struggling to get help. Many of you would, too. But I think we all need a reality check on our own selves. Are we stepping in as much as we should for our friends and family we already know are struggling?

It doesn’t have to be much. We all have lives and money issues and general busyness. I’ll never forget how much it meant to me to have my employees (MY EMPLOYEES who heard me reprimand them when they were wrong or dock pay for stuff or……..when I didn’t have enough coffee that morning) sit with me in a pizza place watching me eat pizza just to know that I wasn’t alone and that I wasn’t starving myself in depression.

I’m preaching at myself. I’m talking to you. I’m talking to all of us. I’m hoping we can make a difference. I’m hoping we can together save lives. I’m hoping no one who knows my name disappears from life because I was too distracted with my own needs that I haven’t reached out. I know. I’m not that powerful. I can’t expect that of myself. I can’t. I know. I’m so heartbroken over the oh-so-many I’ve seen in the past few years take their own lives. It happens too much. It’s truly an attack from the enemy himself to take away those we love and care about. I’m going to do better. I would rather take the chance of being rejected or thought to be too intrusive than to find out later that I could have tried, never followed through, and now they’re gone.

If I reach out to you, please know it’s in love with the best possible intentions. I’m a big girl and will deal with it, even if you don’t receive it the way it’s intended. No, I’m not referring to any one instance. I haven’t even read the circumstances of the most recent one, the young pastor that was just reported. No. I just have a heavy heart for so many we’ve already lost and I just hope to make a difference. This just shouldn’t be happening.

Don’t expect the hurting to come find you. They’re hiding from life and probably hiding their mess from you.

I had a sweet friend a few years ago who was considerably shorter than me and very athletic. She was a personal trainer and health advisor. Every time I saw her, she was in sweats and tennis shoes. I mean, she wasn’t the traditional trainer in spandex and an itty bitty sports bra looking for attention. She dressed in fashionable matching sets of sweats that were probably from the junior section of her stores of choice, cute stuff. She had an adorable personality to match. But she was frustrated that she was single. She had been married years before and it wasn’t pretty. So, she only cautiously dated, and by the time I met her she had been single for about 25 years.

I was newly married to my current husband, so of course it was all I could talk about. She asked me one day about some advice a friend of hers had given her recently that she wasn’t altogether on board with. So, I listened. Her friend told her that she should dress differently and wear some heels to attract a man. By the time she finished relaying the conversation she had had with her friend, I was pretty sure this was a very misguided friend.

So, here was my advice. It’s still my advice for just about anyone ‘out there’ looking for that potential mate.

BE YOURSELF.

Dating is a road that can send you around blind curves with hidden driveways we never see coming, because we all put on our best when we date. Especially in the beginning when we are getting to know a person, we put on our best behavior, pick the best jokes (sometimes the cleanest, sometimes the not-so-cleanest), we pick the jeans that give us the look we want or we ladies…….come on now, be honest………..wear the push-up bras and maybe false lashes. We don’t reveal the strange family members until MUCH later on. It’s not until quite a bit later that the big reveal happens – when we show our true selves.

Oh, you know the ones I’m talking about. The ones that come home from a long week at work and eat nothing but Bagel Bites and ice cream for dinner, wake up looking like an atom bomb went off in our hair (oh wait, that’s just me), or wear the old yucky sweats with pizza stains on them from years of lounge wear. We save that reveal for when we are comfortable with someone and feel that it’s a safe person to show that side of us to.

Want to know a secret? I didn’t take off my eye make-up for the first five years I was married to my husband. Oh, I took it off every morning in the shower RIGHT BEFORE I put it right back on in my bathroom. Ha! Yep, I was terrified of him finding that made up face he dated, fell in love with, proposed to, and married………different. It was some of the damage I carried from my first disastrous marriage. Never fear! I’ve been completely make-up free at night since then.

So, if there is that much of us being ‘put on’ in order to attract a mate initially, why put on even more confusion by even dressing as someone else would? Why would you want someone who is attracted to something that isn’t who you really are? Let’s say my friend heeded that advice her friend gave her and went out dressed in something sexy and high heels. Say she found a man attracted to the persona she put out there. How long should she keep up with the facade before she shows who she really is? I don’t know.

Maybe he’d fall in love with who she really is on the inside……maybe.

With the divorce rate as high as it is everywhere around us all, why not start off on the right foot by showing who we really are in the beginning, so we don’t have to have the BIG REVEAL? My worry would be that this man that was attracted to the look I had portrayed in the beginning would be looking for that outside of our relationship if I removed that facade later. Maybe that wouldn’t happen, but why take the chance?

Be who you are. Be confident in who you are. Love who you are. Confidence is attractive. Self-assurance (not cocky arrogance) is sexy. Being uncomfortable in your own skin is something that cannot be hidden. It will eventually come out and destroy relationships all around you. Certainly, dress your best. I love to dress up. I also love to wear jeans and a T-shirt. I rarely leave my house without make up and clothes that at least match. It’s who I am. But it’s not who everyone is. I have plenty of friends who totally rock the all-natural look and can truly make the relaxed look be fierce! There’s nothing wrong with taking the time to put your best out there. But make it YOUR best. Don’t be trying to look like anyone but you. The right person will love YOU, not the person you’re trying to look like.

God didn’t make a mistake when He made you. He knew you before you were born. I picture God sitting on His throne dreaming up the perfect you. “I’m going to make this person today. She’ll have these eyes. She’ll have this color hair. It will be this texture. She’ll have this type of body and this type of feet. She’ll have this type of demeanor. Oh, how beautiful she’ll be!” Then, He rejoices over you! He created you in His image and He’s happy with you. He is even happy with the exact way He created you to look. Show Him that He did a good job and be yourself.

I’ve mentioned before that we are a blended family in many ways. When my husband and I first said, “I do,” we began our life with a teenager who lived with us half the time and her mother half the time. There were massive growing pains that we simply had to choose to get through. There were some pretty ugly times, but we have managed to come through to the other side with grace and maturity and a wonderful, strong, happy, love-filled marriage.

One of the things I was reflecting on recently was about the ways my husband and I parent so very differently. I’m all rules all the time. He’s happy with pretty much anything as long as the house doesn’t burn to the ground. (Those are his words, not mine.)

When his daughter would say or do something hurtful as a teenager, he would tell her that she must first apologize to the person she had hurt or offended. She would droop her shoulders and spend a bit of time pouting, but she would eventually suck up her pride and make the necessary steps to apologize. As a teen, they weren’t such heartfelt apologies as they were grudging obedience, but they were apologies none the less. It was a habit that was being established in her life that was to grow and mature into what is now a lovely character trait of hers that she handles so very well.

But back then, I would watch it happen from the outside as the step-mother and just cringe. I never really understood why it really bothered me so much, but I would just hurt for her as I watched her handle her emotions and pride and apologize. I would ask myself why he would require such a thing of her, even though I knew it was the right thing to do. It was my own struggle I was working through. Do you know that feeling I’m talking about? It was that feeling deep in my stomach that would ache for her struggle as I watched it all happen in front of me. I guess some would say I’m an empath. I don’t really know. I just know the revelatory information I have at this point so many years later.

I’m sure my parents made us kids apologize for things, surely. I don’t really remember. It was a very long time ago. I’m old. But what I’ve learned is that I truly stunk at apologizing. I was always searching for the ‘why’ of a situation, seemingly looking for a reason for my behavior. I always thought it was how to find the root of an issue and resolve it. What I was really doing was searching for a way to blame my bad actions on something….anything……just not me. I wasn’t just owning my wrongs and taking the time to suck up my own pride and simply say, “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Don’t misunderstand me. There is definitely a time and a place for digging up the root of a problem and dealing with it. It’s the only way to keep the same struggle from popping up over and over. Not dealing with issues is a sure fire way to go head to head with them again, and probably sooner than later. Deal with what needs to be dealt with, but take the time to separate the two issues. Apologizing for being wrong is a priority – or at the very least, makes another person feel the intention of their being a priority. Without apologizing for being wrong and blaming something or someone else, it causes the offended person to feel as if they don’t matter. They’re not even worth the time for a simple apology.

I’ve learned so much in my adult life that I guess I just had to learn the hard way. This is one of those things I had to learn the hard way. I’ve forced my youngest to apologize when she’s wrong. I still feel the same pain for her as she struggles with her pride to come to a place where she can apologize. But now, I can see that she’s coming into a healthy place where she can do it without being forced.

Recently, she had a neighbor friend over to play in our home. My daughter was just grumpy that day, I guess. She wasn’t grumpy before the little girl had come over. I wouldn’t have allowed her to have a friend over if she was grumpy ahead of time. That NEVER goes well with young children. But, she just wasn’t nice to the little friend………AT ALL. Well, of course I brought it to her attention. I also told her she was to apologize and fix her behavior or her friend would have to go home. Oh, the drama of getting to a place where she would apologize. You’d have thought I was telling her to kick a puppy, for crying out loud. Well, eventually she did. It ended well. But what a struggle!

But just the other day a friend of mine witnessed my child’s behavior and casually laughed it off as I “handled her” and “changed her disposition” as we mothers do. When she left, my daughter not only apologized to me but asked if I would call my friend so she could apologize to her as well. HALLELUJAH! I know it’s working. She’ll get there.

I’m not afraid to apologize anymore. It’s never fun, don’t get me wrong. But I do see how different it really is to own up to my faults, my mouth, my facial expressions of wrath (I went there, yes I did). I’m so very imperfect. And it’s ok.

I chaperoned a trip this past week to a week-long church camp so my 6-year-old daughter could attend without me having a stroke about her going away so young without me. Thankfully, I’m not the only helicopter parent out there, as our group had 6 chaperones for 13 kids. See, mom, I’m not the only one.

I am beyond exhausted, but learned quite a bit that I wanted to put into a blog post for you all to see and to share with me in my wacky life. I think maybe the biggest realization for me is that in the many, yes many years since I was a child, kids have not changed. There are still bullies. There are still the popular kids. There are still the teacher’s pets. There are still the jocks. And there are still the misfits. I was a misfit when I was younger. I was so painfully shy that, even if there had been those that wanted me to join their social group, I would have been too afraid to join in.

Enough about me.

I currently homeschool my daughter. I do love doing it and see wonderful results. This week I saw where homeschool has failed to give her the tools to navigate group dynamics. Her social skills have been honed successfully in one-on-one play dates or in groups that are only focused on some common task, like gymnastics or Tae Kwon Do. She showed that she had no idea how to share friends and how to be a friend to more than one person at a time. We will be working on that now. There are some groups that I think will be a serious focus for her moving forward. It was a real struggle for her and a real struggle for me to watch and not be able to fix it all for her. I had to sit back and see what she could figure out on her own many times and see her frustration leak out her eyes.

I noticed that all children have an amazing ability to force themselves to push through exhaustion and keep going for at least 72 hours before they begin to become grumpy, tired, non-moving lumps of unfocused emotions. These kids did an incredible job of putting effort and joy into everything that was asked of them until they just had nothing left to give. Kids have a limit, and that limit is farther than I thought it was. I’m a mother that relies on structure and habits. I know kids feel safe in an environment they understand and when they know what to expect. Bedtime routines are a must and established mealtime expectations are something I have in my household. This week, these kids were all pushed to their own extremes and gave it their all to have as much fun as they possibly could before they just gave out.

Something that was really a great encouragement to me was seeing that the morals and character put into these kids all their lives was pouring out of each of them in buckets full as they showed their sportsmanship, fairness, encouraging natures, and helpful personalities toward one another as well as to other groups they encountered. I will never give up on teaching my child the right way to conduct herself in sports, games, competition, teams, social groups, family, and church. These kids watched some very rude and unsportsmanlike conduct coming from others around them, and they showed nothing but healthy competition, respecting others the entire time. I may have sounded somewhat silly telling them each how proud I was to see their behavior, but I will not stop lifting up and rewarding good behavior in hopes that it will continue throughout their entire lives.

Food. Seriously, people. I love food. I was totally prepared to eat nothing but kid-friendly food or a protein shake. With a few new diet restrictions that I’m really hoping are temporary, I’m pretty limited. I knew what I was getting into. I was even more limited than at home. I never expect others to cater to my dietary needs, so I was ready. But my little one that eats nothing but home-cooked, hot food, no typical kid food, was going to have a time finding something to eat. I knew it going in. I talked to her about it ahead of time to prepare her for the fact that she would be forced to eat what she was served, just like when she goes to a friend’s house, but for all 5 days, all 3 meals each day. Holy moly, y’all! I don’t know if I need to have Mac-n-cheese, sandwiches, and baked ziti at home just to get her to eat foods she hates, but it was a SERIOUS struggle. She was the last one to eat at EVERY meal. She wouldn’t touch most of it unless I constantly returned to her table to tell her she had to eat it. She ate more Pringles to compensate than any human should be allowed to consume in their entire lives this week! Did you know that dehydrated, over-salted kids don’t poop? They don’t. Just so you know.

My other camp lesson (and one of my favorites) is that kids much younger than we all think are capable are developing a hunger and a thirst for God. Don’t discount them because they’re young. I watched God move in these kids like in a mature, Spirit-filled Christian. I saw pastoral giftings emerging, prayer flowing from their young hearts, worship taking over hundreds of young people, and adults being brought to their knees seeing it happen all around them. If you think your kids aren’t ready for the things of God, please reconsider. If they ask questions, please be ready and available. They are ready at any age. But they’ll only ask about it for a while before the world steps in to claim them as its own. Now is the time for a solid foundation to be built. If they have a solid place to always return, no matter what life throws at them and whenever it is thrown, your kids will have a foundation of faith to come home to. It really is important. A pastor friend once told me about an analogy that he holds fast to. He said that we parents have a job to equip our kids with the tools of faith to fill their proverbial tool belts with. When they are older and make their own decisions that could pull them away from their faith, they will always have the tools to bring them back home when they’ve exhausted the world’s ways. If we just let them “figure it out” on their own, we haven’t given them the tools they need to live life in faith. We haven’t given them the tools they need to return home. They will then be lost to the world around them. It’s a stronger pull than any of us really understand.

Oh yeah! One other take-away from this camp time for me was a personal one. I’m an aging woman. I’m real with myself. I’m 45 and showing signs of wear and tear. Ha! When someone my age needs reading glasses, but forgets to bring them, she is then left relying on others to read the oh-so-tiny-printed schedule on the lanyard card around her neck and any other paper given to her. The main reason I think it would behove me to remember my glasses would be realizing at the last day when packing that the lotion I’ve been using all week to handle the dry hands and moisturize my legs and arms………was really body wash. Yes, body wash. All week I’ve been moisturizing my dry arms, legs, and hands with body wash. I walked around all week long with body wash slimed all over me. Glasses, folks. Don’t forget your old lady glasses.