Thursday, October 31, 2013

The root of it all


For as long as I can remember I’ve been told that I am inherently evil. That at my core, I’m corrupt. Not just that I am capable of making bad decisions, but that I - the essence of me - am naturally, unavoidably, offensively flawed. I grew up knowing that this “evil nature” is unacceptable to my Creator, embarrassing to my elders and utterly exasperating to me. This all came to me as a permanent label, a reality of life. Perhaps my youthful ears exaggerated the message or perhaps I misunderstood some key caveat to the concept. Either way, these are the exact words that my soul chewed up and swallowed, over and over again: You are evil. 

(clearly there were many other messages of love, hard work, etc, but that's not what this blog post is about...)


Having always needed to please and live up to the expectations of those around me, it was devastating to live with the reality that I was inherently corrupt. I needed to do right in the eyes of leaders, teachers, parents and peers in order to feel at ease in my own (quite evil) skin. I needed to accomplish to feel some sense of worth and meaning in life. My young mind repeated a message to me that sounded something like this, “You may be evil, but look how happy they are when you do XYZ. You’re not enough just being, but do XYZ and they’ll notice you and approve.” I couldn’t escape my inherited nature, but I sure could work my ass off and prove my worth through academic accomplishments, discipline, beauty and service. This was my truth, my reality, from a very young age.

It was this “truth” that catapulted me into my first spiritual awakening at age twelve. Having experienced a healthy dose of middle school meltdowns (moving to a new school, bullying, body image issues, eating disorders and a bout with mono), I was desperate for something to help me “fix my life”. I so needed to be perfect, to be capable, to be accepted. It was in light of this empty longing for perfection that the Christian Gospel first connected with me. As best as I can recall, and with a healthy dose of hindsight, this is the message my soul heard: You are evil, which you clearly know. You are broken and corrupt and hopelessly flawed. It’s not completely your fault, but you are stuck with it nonetheless. You are corrupt and that’s not okay, with anyone. But, there’s good news; there’s Someone who can build a bridge between your evil nature and the perfection you long for. If you’ll admit how evil you are and how incapable of perfection on your own you are, that Someone will graciously accept your flawed self and give you power to become perfect. 


And so I admitted and accepted…and spent the next 15 years working my ass off to be perfect. Perfection took on a new meaning, of course, shrouded with Bible verses and missionary service and endless meetings. And, yes, it was a bit messier and much more spiritual than that. And yes, it did include true grace and kindness and forgiveness and connection and understanding. But it also included an endless sense of guilt, of “not enough-ness”, of trying and proving, of blacks and whites and silenced questions, of empty relationships, of faking it or hoping for it or not following my emotions or thoughts or anything else that could be labeled as “me”. After 15 years, I was still inherently evil and perfection still loomed far in the distance.

I started wandering away from all of that a few years ago. The perfect self crumbled so painfully small that I could no longer make out what it was I was aiming for. Somewhere in the mess of my pain and questioning, I connected with flawed humanity and fell in love. Without all the striving, I started to connect with my true self - my longings, my thoughts, my feelings, me - and realized there was much more good there than I’d ever been lead to believe. I started to question that age old wisdom about my nature, my core. What am I inherently?



“Evil nature” no longer resonates with me. I see goodness and kindness and a struggle to connect and find meaning. Of course there is imperfection and brokenness, yes, even evil. But is that my truest self? Or humanity’s core? I wrestle with the concept of calling something corrupt before it even takes a breath and with the consequences of repeatedly denying that I could in fact be trusted, that my deepest desires may in fact be life and truth and beauty. I question what a Savior means for someone content in their flawed skin, satisfied with being imperfect. 

I’ve had this saying on my wall for a few weeks now and it resonates so deeply with what I’ve come to believe about life and love about myself and appreciate about humanity: "I am imperfect and I am enough." Where was that message all those years? And what is the Gospel in light of it? So I question and wrestle and wonder still, but I carry along with me peace and self-compassion.


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Thursday, October 24, 2013

Am I enough for You?

I have wrestled over the decades with a deep soul cry that relentlessly wants to know, “Am I enough?”. The questioning comes in the form of, “Am I enough for you?…Mom, Dad, brother, sister, husband, friend…am I enough for you?”. But most often, the question has taken the form of, “Am I enough for You?”. 

A pivotal moment in my soul came in a dark night a dozen years ago as I wrestled with the weight of, “Am I enough for You?”. I sensed that allusive, rule-enforcing, righteous seeking You reverse the question and ask, “Am I enough for you?”. It felt like the answer I’d been looking for…an answer that left me feeling guilty and tired and trying to let that You be enough. 

I’ve sat with that question, frenzied in religious activity, repenting and trying again, confused and exhausted. I’ve tried so hard to let You be enough. I never thought to simply answer, “No. NO! You are not enough! I am not satisfied. This is not what I’m longing for. This is not life to the full. This cannot be it. My soul longs for more!”

You are not satisfying and maybe it has nothing to do with me trying harder or letting go more or following more rules or reading or saying or being more or less of anything. Maybe You are not enough because You were never meant to be enough. Because You are a fabricated divinity of traditions and comforts and You came to me in a box, reduced to something that could never, ever satisfy. You came to me as should-be’s and have to’s and try harders. You came to me in blacks and whites and tight spaces, with no room to breath or life left to satisfy any soul. So, no, You are not enough for me. 

And in saying “No” to that You - that guilt-inducing, disillusioning, unsatisfying You - maybe I can finally say yes to me. Am I enough? Why, yes. Yes. I am enough. This wild, longing soul within me is enough. I am enough. 



This questions then remains: Is there a You that’s enough, too? 

  
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Tuesday, October 22, 2013

A worm & I


Sometimes I'm amazed at how much I enjoy nature. Now that I'm a stay-at-home mom, I have the luxury of getting to indulge my desire to be outside. Thankfully it feels like a luxury most days, because for my kids, it's a necessity. There is a very obvious change in their behavior if they don't get to play outside. They are grumpy, much harder at hearing, whiny and unhappy. We all suffer. That's why I've been known to throw on rain boots and extra jackets and let them stomp around in the rain (mud fights and all!) or bundle them up and head to a park even though the slides are still covered in dew. And I always join them. Because we all need the fresh air. We need the open space. We NEED the outdoors. I know this about my family and I. 

Another thing I know about myself: I'm not very good at keeping my heart connected throughout the day. I often feel like I'm just keeping up with the necessary logistics of raising two toddlers, maintaining a home and running a small business. Soul work is often last on the list, or if I do try to pull it into my day, my brain just seems stuck in "do" mode. I can't seem to slow the wheels or speed them up or whichever it is that's keeping me from having clear, heart thoughts when I want to.  

And I'm desperate for those quiet moments; those rare chances to connect with myself and refocus my day; the possibilities of discovering something new and growing. 

As I was thinking about the chilly days quickly sucking the hours out of our outdoor playtime and thinking also about how stuck I feel in my own spirit, I started to wonder if my soul often feels like it's trapped indoors. Like there's not enough fresh air to breath or enough space to move; just grumpy and confined and whiny and in need of a good dose of the great outdoors, "soul-style". What does that mean? What would it look like for my soul to get that fresh air, open space, outdoor experience that my body so thrives on? 
Time. Surely time would help. Maybe new input…new books, new music, new art. Good conversation. Ah, yes, a good, soul-connecting friend.
My kids and I dig in the dirt pretty regularly. It tends to be my 18 month old daughter and I sitting in a pile of dirt and slowly exploring to our hearts' content, while my 2 1/2 year old son runs around kicking his ball, then stops by to see if we've found anything worth seeing, then repeats the cycle a dozen more times. We usually end up with a couple good rocks, an ant or two and always a worm. The worms are our favorite! Usually they are pretty calm creatures, especially once they've been unearthed and removed from their moist, warm home underground. 

Last week we found a wild one. This was no ordinary worm. He was small (a "tiny baby" as my daughter calls everything under the age of 10!) and he was non-stop motion. We must have taken turns holding him, laying him on the ground and carrying him around on our shovels for a good twenty minutes. He squirmed the entire time. We tried laying dirt back on top of him to see if that would calm him down. Squirm, writhe, thrash. My son found a second worm - a typically calm worm - and suggested we lay them together so the wild worm would have a friend. Squirm, writhe, thrash. 

I really never have soul moments in the midst of playing with my children (remember, I'm not great at keeping my heart connected), but something about that crazy worm connected with me. He took me out of the logistics of digging and connected me to myself. My crazy, writhing, squirming, thrashing self.  And I clearly thought, I feel so much like that worm! Constant motion with no lasting calm. Spinning my wheels, going, going, going - but nothing (or little) changes in the depths, where things really matter. Life often feels like such a struggle for survival and connection and even in the midst of the struggle, I'm keenly aware that somehow I'm working against myself. That there has to be a better way, a freer way, a quieter way. That all the spinning and going has gotten me little. That I must often look like a crazy worm, kicking around for no good reason at all. 

The compassionate side of me is reminding myself that I have stopped some of the spinning. I've known myself enough to know that increased activity will not lead to increased happiness or wholeness or any such thing. I recognized the squirming a while back and so, 3 1/2 years ago I left a leadership position at a church, and largely left the faith altogether. The leave was for a myriad of reasons, but an encompassing one was that my soul just couldn't keep up. I was so tired, so confused, so disillusioned, and I desperately needed some soul-style fresh air.  I needed open space and room to squirm or question or to just lay still for a while. I really needed a good friend, too. 

But the crazy thing about giving up an addiction (i.e. zealous religious activity), is that it leaves a hole, a wound, an empty place longing to be filled. So even as my soul has calmed and quieted in ways in the past few years that it longed for, it yells and squirms and writhes all the more in other ways. All that religious activity was filling a hole and now there is just a hole. And a worm. Squirm, writhe, thrash. 


I started an eCourse this week, which is a very atypical endeavor for me. It's a Brene Brown/Oprah course on wholehearted living and so far, so awesome. We were asked to take a picture of ourselves (this is my first ever "selfie") with the saying 
"I'm imperfect but I'm enough."  
My image, with no shower, no makeup, having just cleaned the house during nap time, is fitting. It's raw and imperfect and messy. Like the real me. The me I want to let be. 

Oh, and about that worm. I still can't get him out of my head. I see his tiny body squirming and our vain attempts to calm him and I wonder if someone has ever tried putting dirt over me - comfort or empathy or support - to help me feel calmer, quieter, more at home. But I've just continued to squirm. I wonder if someone has lead me to a friend or tried to be a friend  but I've just writhed and thrashed about the whole time and missed it. 
I wonder what I've missed in all the motion. 
And I wonder if I can ever slow my soul enough to see it.  

**Some of these thoughts were inspired by a book I just finished reading, Thrashing About With God, by Mandy Steward. Thanks, Mandy, for your honesty in the mess.**

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Monday, October 14, 2013

Let's Party Ya'll: A Cowgirl Birthday!

I've been limiting the number of events I accept this Fall in order to focus more energy on my Etsy business and family. But I absolutely couldn't resist the opportunity to help throw this fabulous outdoor cowgirl themed birthday party. Rustic and girly, this is one of my absolute favorite events to-date! I'm so excited to get to share the details with you today!

I love getting to do individual place-settings. This table included bandanas as napkins, embellished milk bottles with paper straws and a burlap runner the entire length of the table. 

Some of the yummy treats on this cowgirl dessert table: cowgirl hat cakepops by April's cake pops, cowgirl trail mix and a S'more bar! 

 In addition to all the custom banners and cupcake toppers, I made two very special, custom decorations for this event. The first is the ribbon banner strung behind the dessert table. I LOVE this banner! The second is the "Ashtyn" name plaque made out of rope and coordinating pink paisely fabric (also a present for the birthday girl to keep!). 

Close-up view of the "Ashtyn" name plaque. I used spray adhesive to apply the fabric background and then hot-glued the rope in place to create her name. 

Close-up of "ribbon" banner behind dessert table (these are 1 inch wide  by 10 inches long strips of fabric tied around a rope).


For favors, each guest got their own tumbler, ready for a night of hot chocolate sipping! There were also supplies available for the kids to be able to personalize their tumbler inserts. 

Full view of the favor table with custom "Cowgirl" banner. I was fortunate enough to be able to borrow lots of great cowgirl gear for the party, including boots that doubled as vases!


 I always add lots of pennant banners to my events to tie in the color & theme. This event had the added benefit of being at a beautiful, rustic home that made a perfect backdrop! 



Full on view of the dessert table. I always try to find items of interest to layer with, such as a large metal tub turned upside down, stumps cut into pedestals, old wooden crates, miniature hay bales and boxes wrapped in coordinating paper.  

 Close-up of the tree stump pedestals...loved these as mini cupcake stands! 

This was my first time making these adorable fabric ball cupcake toppers. They took a bit longer than the traditional paper ones, but I love the special touch that they added! 

No party is complete these days with a good 'ole Photo Booth...at this party, the girls even got to try on real cowgirl gear and sit on a real saddle to have their pictures taken. "Yeehaw"!!

One last dessert table view. Happy 8th Birthday, Ashtyn!!



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