Sunday, March 29, 2015

This is kinda like our own version of a bad reality TV show - but without a TV show.

(warning... warning.... warning.... this is a long one folks.  So grab a snack, run to the bathroom if you have to, and please, find a comfy chair....)

What do pink eye, an irate neighbor, a fiery potholder, and a new $200 tent all have in common?

Well, me, of course - my week, to be exact.....  But don't look away in fright... I'm not the one with pink eye.  Just another kid thing to keep us on our toes and in the drive thru pharmacy about once a week.  And this particular kid can't remember to turn in his sick notes at school so it looks like he may be labeled a delinquent by the end of the school year.  A delinquent with pink eye.  Which is just a bad way to be. 

So y'all I haven't really written anything of thought and substance in a while.  Because I find it terribly hard to write at home when everyone is around - and they're always around.  And my mind has been scattered in a million directions lately - which is about half a million more directions than usual.  So trust it as truth when I thank you for sticking around for what has appeared to be a play by play of our family for the last few posts.  It's kinda like our own version of a bad reality TV show but without a TV show.

First, the news.....

I caught the potholder on fire this morning taking toast out of the oven.  But I didn't know it was on fire till both husband and I smelled something akin to roasting marshmallows and then I looked up on the wall, where of course I have the potholders hanging on coordinating flammable ribbons, and sweet baby Jesus... it was on fire.  But fireman Dave doused it in the sink as if it weren't a thing at all... and that is why I married him.  For just such an instance. 

Also,.....we are now the proud owners of a new $200 tent and will be trying to move it forward to another happy camper as soon as we can.  So if you love to camp and you love to spend all your disposable income on tents, we have just the one for you.  Why? you may ask....

Because kid 3 went on his very first independent Boy Scout camping trip last weekend which was all fine and good till he didn't know how to take down his tent  by himself - after a rain and mud storm  - and he ended up sticking all the parts that had not floated away, into a trash bag and returning them to the scout troop all an icky mess.  Which sounds like mistake #1 ... but, no it was not. 

Mistake #1 was actually when he thought this particular tent was the one checked out to him by the troop to use for the weekend -  when really it was a top of the line, mansion of a tent that belonged to another scout.  Another scout with an angry mother.  My kid just can't tell a luxury tent from a plain Jane, scout issue tent on a dark Friday night when asked to find his stuff in a giant pile and go forth to camp.

So a visit was made to me and kid 3 at our home after all was discovered.... and words were spoken that shouldn't have been, and patience was lost and demands were made - all that made this mom mad and kid 3 cry.  Which then made husband step in and offer to replace the wet and muddy tent with a brand new $200 replacement.  And that's how we inherited the old one.  Which turned out to be perfectly good, and all the missing parts were eventually found.  And we are super thankful for eBay where we may be able to sell it and recover the cost of the tent, but probably not our scouting reputation.

But the tent wasn't the big deal .... It was the words.  Once words are out, y'all, THEY ARE OUT.  And once a child has been made to feel the source of the problem, it can't be undone.  So much for scouts being a safe place to learn and make  mistakes. 

And I'm trying really hard not to be bothered by it all, but I really was and maybe I still am - as proven by the fact that I'm telling the world about it on the blog.  Because things can be replaced.  But the heartbreak of an 11 year old  boy who stepped out on his own for the first time and needed a little more help than what he got?  That takes a little more time to fix.   Y'all.... Amazon doesn't deliver confidence to your front door.  It is grown and taught and experienced.  

But I think the most interesting thing about confidence is that it doesn't always have to come from glowing success.  Maybe the best form of confidence comes from the most unexpected places  - when we mess up -  or have been labeled a walking, living mess ourselves.... and we prove to the world that it just isn't so.     

And I guess, really, the topic at hand here for me is the building up of a child's spirit. The spirit that will carry him through a lifetime of ups and downs.  And the strength of spirit that should - in a perfect world - be there as a bank of self confidence and courage  - enough to face a lion.  A lion in the form of a bully, a demanding teacher, or a parent who needs to take a breath and count to 10 before her words escape forever and stab a kid in the heart. 

So here we go.... and I never wanted this blog to be a place for dirty laundry... unless we're talking about my soon to be luxurious laundry room, of course.....

But this week I had an all new occasion to deal with hurts and disappointments of my very own.  From my past, but I just can't get those darn things to stay in the past..... Many of you know that I have been estranged from what is left of my family for quite some time.  Almost 4 years.  And we've talked around the issues here, but it just goes bigger than I could ever put into words.  And some of it?  Just doesn't need to be revisited in any shape or form.  Not yet anyway. 

I grew up in a verbally abusive home.  And lived with it even into adulthood.  There was the occasional physical incident, but mostly abuse of power and place and authority and trust - the worst kind of abuse.  The kind that stays in a kid's heart till she isn't even a kid any more.  But someone forgot to tell her that very important fact. 

So she still listens and believes all the lies that have been told to her every day... that she's ugly, that's she's fat, that she's whatever the deal of the day was.... that she will never amount to anything but bad, that no one could ever want to be with her for more than what she may cheaply offer for a time, and she hears the words that have echoed in her for years.... I wish you had died the day you were born.   And she becomes rock hard on the inside so she doesn't have to cry about it anymore.  And maybe she grows a terrific sense of humor so she can laugh during the attack of the mean lion. 

And for those of you reading this that know me personally..... don't be at all embarrassed for knowing this and looking me in the eye with this knowledge.  Because I am ashamed of the hurt and the people who caused it, but I'm not ashamed of me or for me.  It's who I am, it's where I came from, and though it's the power that, sadly, still tries to hold me back?  Mostly it's the power that has pushed me forward.  

Forward enough to leave the hurtful people behind.  And though I grieve my loss and wish forever and often that even at this late date something could change, I've learned not to count on it.  

And I've moved forward enough to reach out to those around me with all the love that I never got to share before now.  Love that has been compounded with time and interest to become big enough to block, for the most part, all the bad that I thought would forever live in me.     

And I will never repeat these hurtful words on here again.  Today was the first and the last time.  But it all came rushing back to me yesterday with a mistake phone call  - the result of a mis-dialed number - some angry words, and I was back as a kid again with a hurting heart.  

So.... all that being said..... I am thankful for new beginnings.  

I had a birthday a few days ago... and I was shown by friends and my sweet husband and boys that it is indeed a good thing to be Kristi.  

I was born many moons ago on Good Friday.  And brought home from the hospital on Easter Sunday.  And I've always remarked on the significance of those dates - first of all because I think my birthday has fallen on those holidays maybe once again in my lifetime... but mostly because I love their meaning. 

Good Friday being such a dark day.  The day that Jesus wrestled for who would win our very lives.  And for a time, the world turned dark, and shook in fear and anger.  

But y'all... Sunday came.  And the light came.  And the joy and the fulfillment of all God's promises came.  

And though my story isn't quite as grand as all that, ... it's faith that there is always something better that keeps me hoping and looking.  

Wishing a wonderful Holy Week to you.  This week may we find time to remember the sacrifices made for us.  May we find time to walk through the darkness of worry and regret and fear - so that the light on the other side shines brighter than any light we have ever known.  May this week be a week of love and celebration and the promise of greater things to come because of the love given to us as children of God.

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  1. So thankful for you sharing. I learn to lean more on our Lord each time I read your posts and see how you always find hope through your faith. Wish I could reach across the miles and hug you.


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