I fall on the sword of being totally transparent. I claim, share, and project the comfort being so open that anyone can distinctly see through the substance of my thoughts and heart.
For 98% of the time, I truly am. Totally transparent means 100% though. The 2% isn't shadiness, it is simply the fine line between personal privacy and total honesty. It is the 2% that I hold close to my heart.
For the first time in my life, I give bows and congrats to David for being smarter than the one who used to call me out on my blinks and heart beats. Once upon a time, my total transparency gave comfort and peace of mind to another who I thought was one of the smartest men I've ever known. David is highly, sometimes scary intelligent, and he just stepped it up a notch.
I love the mental stimulation of a smart partner in life and I embrace the role of allowing him to be the man in the relationship. I step down to allow him to step up.
Last night we were enjoying a quiet Friday night at home with no kids and spending time on the couch just talking. Not a talking conversation on a cell phone or texting, but just talking with each other. I don't remember what the topic was, but I was being open and honest sharing something when I claimed my total transparency that should give him peace and comfort.
He called me out saying I am not as transparent as I like to claim.
I had a millisecond to choose my response: Smile sweetly, wide-eyed and act like I have no idea what he is talking about or look him straight in the eye and confirm his intelligence.
In honor of complete admiration and respect I confirmed his statement. He is absolutely and officially the smartest man I know. I love his mind and I love having a partner in life that knows me.
I am transparent in life with the topics that I want to be transparent with, which for the most part is pretty much everything. There are very few topics that are off the table with me. It's my 'claim' to total transparency that provides comfort and total openness; however, there is 2% that is my personal privacy.
Just when I thought I have David figured out, he raised the bar to a new level, and I am dazzled and impressed with his intelligence. I respected his calling me out so much that I had too much admiration for him to deny it. Touche'!
Intelligence in a relationship is as important to me as sharing my faith, the must have of pure chemistry, and trust. It is the respect factor that I must have in a partner to survive in a relationship.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Tattered Flowers Tell the Best Stories
Flowers, textures, and all things floral, I love variety in shapes for home décor.
I long to leisurely walk in the sunshine strolling through gardens admiring their color and beauty. I enjoy planting flowers in the springtime fresh and new and admire their growth at the end of a hot summer appreciating the ambiance they provided at my home for a season.
I especially love to see a flower bloom when I thought all was lost and the plant was dead. I've been known to water and care for plants long after they look ready for the trash can to bask in pure joy when new life spouts and what looks dead comes back to life. They become my prize possession.
Of course, I enjoy flowers that are simple, easy, and take little work and attention, but it is my flowers I have to especially care for that I really care for.
Tattered flowers tell the best stories.
I long to leisurely walk in the sunshine strolling through gardens admiring their color and beauty. I enjoy planting flowers in the springtime fresh and new and admire their growth at the end of a hot summer appreciating the ambiance they provided at my home for a season.
I especially love to see a flower bloom when I thought all was lost and the plant was dead. I've been known to water and care for plants long after they look ready for the trash can to bask in pure joy when new life spouts and what looks dead comes back to life. They become my prize possession.
Of course, I enjoy flowers that are simple, easy, and take little work and attention, but it is my flowers I have to especially care for that I really care for.
Tattered flowers tell the best stories.
A Roar of Applause
Every evening I am responsible for giving the devotion and prayer prior to dinner for our staff, volunteers, shelter men, and dinner guests. In training, I am supposed to follow in the same devotional process of my predecessor while she is away on a 2-week vacation.
The process is to read a couple to several verses from the Bible straight through. Always choosing the next 5+ verses then reading the life application process. Reading the Bible is a hard read, especially a handful of verses at a time, more especially if you don't know God or He isn't a priority in life.
If this method is uninspiring to me as a Christian, my reading verbatim must be a painful process to sit through in order to eat dinner.
Lucky them that I am a boundary stomper!
I had to change it up a bit and flex my muscles to test the crowd. A couple of times I did an inspirational devotion that had touched my heart, it was well received. I've opened it up and let others say the evening prayer for variety sake and found a young guy from a Christian college, an excited, over-the-top Christian, and dynamic prayer warrior that reminded me so much of my brother starting off in his ministry. He was a breath of fresh air. On the days where I am reading straight through the Bible, I've searched and found funny Christian jokes to open up the evening with. Their laughter breaks what used to be former silence.
Last night was my crescendo.
I shared with them my experience when I heard Carrie Underwood and Vince Gill sing the duet How Great Thou Art in such a powerful way that I wondered who was the person and what was the inspiration behind the powerful words, "then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee, how great thou art ..."
Speaking for a moment on the gentleman who wrote the poem in 1885 that became the song and his inspiration walking home one day to have a thunderstorm appear and the sights, sounds, and colors of such a majestic display that followed. A moment of awe in nature that gave praise to God and birth to the words.
I asked the room to remember the moments in their lives that were so pure, peaceful, and fulfilling that they offered up a silent, "Thank you, Lord." While nostalgia filled their minds, I played the beautiful hymn sung by Carrie Underwood and Vince Gill.
I confess I was nervous and wondered if this was pushing the boundary too far. The song began and I looked across the room where my new friend Clarence was standing, smiling, and shaking his head "Yes!" He has no idea how comforting his confirmation and support was to me.
The song is filled the dining room and I began to hear a woman on my left softly sing along to the old familiar hymn. To my right, I heard a couple of my shelter guys join in singing softly. Across the room I heard others join in.
The song was powerful and inside I was jumping up and down, they were enjoying it!
Powerhouse, country singer, Carrie Underwood is bellowing out "... how great thou art, HOW GREAT THOU ART!" and a roar of applause broke across the room!
Not polite church clapping, but head-shaking, hard-hand clapping with admiration and thanks. Pure success!
Thank you, Lord.
I slipped into my office to put my things down and join my dinner guests for the evening meal, and made a call to David to quickly share with him my success, in the moment. I was *bursting* inside.
The process is to read a couple to several verses from the Bible straight through. Always choosing the next 5+ verses then reading the life application process. Reading the Bible is a hard read, especially a handful of verses at a time, more especially if you don't know God or He isn't a priority in life.
If this method is uninspiring to me as a Christian, my reading verbatim must be a painful process to sit through in order to eat dinner.
Lucky them that I am a boundary stomper!
I had to change it up a bit and flex my muscles to test the crowd. A couple of times I did an inspirational devotion that had touched my heart, it was well received. I've opened it up and let others say the evening prayer for variety sake and found a young guy from a Christian college, an excited, over-the-top Christian, and dynamic prayer warrior that reminded me so much of my brother starting off in his ministry. He was a breath of fresh air. On the days where I am reading straight through the Bible, I've searched and found funny Christian jokes to open up the evening with. Their laughter breaks what used to be former silence.
Last night was my crescendo.
I shared with them my experience when I heard Carrie Underwood and Vince Gill sing the duet How Great Thou Art in such a powerful way that I wondered who was the person and what was the inspiration behind the powerful words, "then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee, how great thou art ..."
Speaking for a moment on the gentleman who wrote the poem in 1885 that became the song and his inspiration walking home one day to have a thunderstorm appear and the sights, sounds, and colors of such a majestic display that followed. A moment of awe in nature that gave praise to God and birth to the words.
I asked the room to remember the moments in their lives that were so pure, peaceful, and fulfilling that they offered up a silent, "Thank you, Lord." While nostalgia filled their minds, I played the beautiful hymn sung by Carrie Underwood and Vince Gill.
I confess I was nervous and wondered if this was pushing the boundary too far. The song began and I looked across the room where my new friend Clarence was standing, smiling, and shaking his head "Yes!" He has no idea how comforting his confirmation and support was to me.
The song is filled the dining room and I began to hear a woman on my left softly sing along to the old familiar hymn. To my right, I heard a couple of my shelter guys join in singing softly. Across the room I heard others join in.
The song was powerful and inside I was jumping up and down, they were enjoying it!
Powerhouse, country singer, Carrie Underwood is bellowing out "... how great thou art, HOW GREAT THOU ART!" and a roar of applause broke across the room!
Not polite church clapping, but head-shaking, hard-hand clapping with admiration and thanks. Pure success!
Thank you, Lord.
I slipped into my office to put my things down and join my dinner guests for the evening meal, and made a call to David to quickly share with him my success, in the moment. I was *bursting* inside.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Your Battery Is Low ... 7%
It's been days since I have blogged. A thought and inspiration escapes me. I pour over my favorite websites for motivation and inspiration. Fuel for my day, a spark to ignite something, the energy I need to be 100% for everyone. Talk to me, Lord.
Looking ... looking ... nothing.
A blue box pops up on my screen "Your battery is low ... 7%."
Indeed it is.
It took this blue box to point out the obvious. It's time to recharge.
Looking ... looking ... nothing.
A blue box pops up on my screen "Your battery is low ... 7%."
Indeed it is.
It took this blue box to point out the obvious. It's time to recharge.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Welcome to Grand Central Station
As I unlock the door to my office, two follow me in waiting my arrival.
Welcome to Grand Central Station. My office.
Updates from the kitchen, confirmation that all is well as a smooth running machine. Translation: "I handled everything. Everything has been done and I've gone the extra mile as I do every single day. Lunch is ready and the meats are in the cooler thawing for the next couple of nights dinners." He shares all the details I should know and those he wants me to know. I warmly tell him I have no doubt when he runs the kitchen that every detail is tended to and I am so thankful for him. He runs the morning team, is well like and respected by everyone, and we have quickly formed an awesome working relationship.
Next ... [I'm thinking the deli does it best with its take-a-number system.]
Doctors appointments. Agency appointments. Health issues. They line up to talk, tell me, and share.
Many are from prison and they don't hesitate to share their stories of how they got there, lost their families, how they are doing the work to clean up their lives. The ones you wouldn't expect to share, get emotional. So many ashamed of the destruction they brought on their lives due to bad choices.
All day I hear about their appointments, said out loud so another person knows.
This community I have been welcomed into and quickly a part of where I don't have to have any magical words but to be someone to listen and encourage.
They share the damage they have done, I share I see what they are doing to make it right.
Several have jobs and they want to tell someone about their day. I remember being alone in the past and genuinely missing sharing daily details with another person.
I heard a loud commotion outside my office, bad language, and had my first drunken confrontation yesterday. He is a ring fighter, a thief, and sells drugs for an income [I'm still a bit shocked at how transparent and open they are]. He is in a bad place being kicked out of the shelter for being intoxicated and knows this violation will most likely have his probation officer shipping him back to prison violating his parole. He has no place to stay. He is frustrated and embarrassed that his new paper route pays nothing and he feels going back to selling is his only way to bring in money to support himself. He was drunk, crying at times, and scared to go back to prison. He was respectful and would apologize when he said a bad word in front of me.
I hear their stories of brokenness, I hear how they lost everything due to bad choices, I hear about prison. I also see so many who are utilizing the shelter and services to do the work to get back up on their feet. Grateful for clean facilities to sleep in, clean clothes, and good meals.
I greet all our dinner guests when they come in and I say kind words when they leave. Some of the roughest looking guys, I admit I wouldn't make eye contact with on the streets, when I acknowledge them will smile, warm up, thank me, and introduce themselves.
I have a job to accomplish and a meal ministry to enhance and grow, but I am learning every day the power of a smile, a kind word, and the gift of listening.
Welcome to Grand Central Station. My office.
Updates from the kitchen, confirmation that all is well as a smooth running machine. Translation: "I handled everything. Everything has been done and I've gone the extra mile as I do every single day. Lunch is ready and the meats are in the cooler thawing for the next couple of nights dinners." He shares all the details I should know and those he wants me to know. I warmly tell him I have no doubt when he runs the kitchen that every detail is tended to and I am so thankful for him. He runs the morning team, is well like and respected by everyone, and we have quickly formed an awesome working relationship.
Next ... [I'm thinking the deli does it best with its take-a-number system.]
Doctors appointments. Agency appointments. Health issues. They line up to talk, tell me, and share.
Many are from prison and they don't hesitate to share their stories of how they got there, lost their families, how they are doing the work to clean up their lives. The ones you wouldn't expect to share, get emotional. So many ashamed of the destruction they brought on their lives due to bad choices.
All day I hear about their appointments, said out loud so another person knows.
This community I have been welcomed into and quickly a part of where I don't have to have any magical words but to be someone to listen and encourage.
They share the damage they have done, I share I see what they are doing to make it right.
Several have jobs and they want to tell someone about their day. I remember being alone in the past and genuinely missing sharing daily details with another person.
I heard a loud commotion outside my office, bad language, and had my first drunken confrontation yesterday. He is a ring fighter, a thief, and sells drugs for an income [I'm still a bit shocked at how transparent and open they are]. He is in a bad place being kicked out of the shelter for being intoxicated and knows this violation will most likely have his probation officer shipping him back to prison violating his parole. He has no place to stay. He is frustrated and embarrassed that his new paper route pays nothing and he feels going back to selling is his only way to bring in money to support himself. He was drunk, crying at times, and scared to go back to prison. He was respectful and would apologize when he said a bad word in front of me.
I hear their stories of brokenness, I hear how they lost everything due to bad choices, I hear about prison. I also see so many who are utilizing the shelter and services to do the work to get back up on their feet. Grateful for clean facilities to sleep in, clean clothes, and good meals.
I greet all our dinner guests when they come in and I say kind words when they leave. Some of the roughest looking guys, I admit I wouldn't make eye contact with on the streets, when I acknowledge them will smile, warm up, thank me, and introduce themselves.
I have a job to accomplish and a meal ministry to enhance and grow, but I am learning every day the power of a smile, a kind word, and the gift of listening.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Men vs. Women
Being a single mom of 17 years, raising daughters, and decades of close female friendships, it is no wonder why I am drawn to advocating for women.
I advocate because I am a strong female and it is my nature on top of decades of personal experience that stirs something in me to charge to the battle line when there is an injustice.
Imagine my feeling that there must be a mistake in the universe when I accepted a job at a group home for girls (to have it turn out to be bogus), then the opportunity opened for me to be a volunteer at a crisis pregnancy ministry. It was me lining myself up to be willing to serve for significance sake in the areas I thought were my strengths, then to find myself working in a men's homeless shelter/meal ministry.
Wrong gender, God. I was 100% in the direction of advocating for women when I land myself in a position surrounded by men. I actually wondered if I was being tested for obedience ... Let's throw her in a position out of her comfort zone and see how she responds.
What I am finding is that while I understand women so much more, I am actually really good with men. I am very well received, liked, praised, and protected in my new environment and I laugh to myself because while I am more quiet spoken, the staff and men feel they need to protect me more.
The staff has questioned my comfort level being surrounded by men and often being the only woman present in the facility. I am absolutely, completely comfortable.
When I go to the podium in the evening for devotion and prayer before dinner, the staff has commented they hear how quiet the guys get to listen. That is a trick. If you speak loud to shout over the chatter, people don't care what they miss. If you speak in a normal to softer tone, they shush up pretty quick.
Stan is our resident body guard during meal times. I believe he feels he has to protect me and I smile to myself. I want to say, "Please do not confuse professional, sweet, warm and friendly as weakness." I simply don't feel as if I have to flex my muscles to prove anything.
I advocate because I am a strong female and it is my nature on top of decades of personal experience that stirs something in me to charge to the battle line when there is an injustice.
Imagine my feeling that there must be a mistake in the universe when I accepted a job at a group home for girls (to have it turn out to be bogus), then the opportunity opened for me to be a volunteer at a crisis pregnancy ministry. It was me lining myself up to be willing to serve for significance sake in the areas I thought were my strengths, then to find myself working in a men's homeless shelter/meal ministry.
Wrong gender, God. I was 100% in the direction of advocating for women when I land myself in a position surrounded by men. I actually wondered if I was being tested for obedience ... Let's throw her in a position out of her comfort zone and see how she responds.
What I am finding is that while I understand women so much more, I am actually really good with men. I am very well received, liked, praised, and protected in my new environment and I laugh to myself because while I am more quiet spoken, the staff and men feel they need to protect me more.
The staff has questioned my comfort level being surrounded by men and often being the only woman present in the facility. I am absolutely, completely comfortable.
When I go to the podium in the evening for devotion and prayer before dinner, the staff has commented they hear how quiet the guys get to listen. That is a trick. If you speak loud to shout over the chatter, people don't care what they miss. If you speak in a normal to softer tone, they shush up pretty quick.
Stan is our resident body guard during meal times. I believe he feels he has to protect me and I smile to myself. I want to say, "Please do not confuse professional, sweet, warm and friendly as weakness." I simply don't feel as if I have to flex my muscles to prove anything.
The gift of influence is the invisible power that women overlook.
Femininity is definitely strength under control.
Femininity is strength wrapped in a velvet glove.
It doesn't insist on its own way, but most of the time it gets it.
- Michelle McKinney Hammond
I am certain I will be put to the test many times in my new position and in those moments I will not blink or hesitate to raise my voice and command attention and authority. My downfall is that I am very brave, overly confident, and not easily intimidated.
While I thought I was ideal to serve working with women, God just may see it differently.
I've been known to be wrong a few (bzillion) times before.
Saturday, March 1, 2014
March 1st
March 1st.
Every news station is warning another winter snow blast is about to hit hard again for the next couple of days and it will; however, March is here which means no matter how hard and how much it snows, spring is near!
Freshly mowed grass, new mulch, and bright flowers.
Windows open and fresh air.
Walks in the parks.
Patio days and evenings.
Magical days and nights on a Harley.
To feel the hot sand under my feet at Headlands Beach.
Having coffee outdoors at a patio café with my girlfriends.
Watermelon bowls at the dinner table everyday.
I want to sweat on tennis courts, listen to the sounds of nature riding bikes through the trails, and feel the burn on those magnificent Monument steps.
To be outside under the stars listening to live music with my lover.
It is all very near.
A snowstorm may slow everything down over the next couple of days and I will admire its breathtaking beauty, but seasons change and the light of spring at the end of this winter tunnel is getting brighter.
Every news station is warning another winter snow blast is about to hit hard again for the next couple of days and it will; however, March is here which means no matter how hard and how much it snows, spring is near!
Freshly mowed grass, new mulch, and bright flowers.
Windows open and fresh air.
Walks in the parks.
Patio days and evenings.
Magical days and nights on a Harley.
To feel the hot sand under my feet at Headlands Beach.
Having coffee outdoors at a patio café with my girlfriends.
Watermelon bowls at the dinner table everyday.
I want to sweat on tennis courts, listen to the sounds of nature riding bikes through the trails, and feel the burn on those magnificent Monument steps.
To be outside under the stars listening to live music with my lover.
It is all very near.
A snowstorm may slow everything down over the next couple of days and I will admire its breathtaking beauty, but seasons change and the light of spring at the end of this winter tunnel is getting brighter.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)