Good Enough

I heard a man say today that we are way more screwed up than we give ourselves credit for.

I think he is absolutely right.

We can never be "good enough". People can act as pious and as rightous as they want - but we all have a dark side- a sinful side- a guilty pleasure - it is the Nature of being Human. There are always parts of who we are or what we have done that we are not proud of. It happens to everyone - probably from the Pope and Billy Graham to the Dahli Lama to the Bible-belt housewife who lives next door. We all fall short - we all have flaws. I have said before that to love someone who does not acknowledge their flaws is a miserable business- and that both of you cannot be in love enough to make things work- speaking this from experience here) Understanding that each of us has weaknesses and that we need love because of our weakness - not in spite of it.

We hide in shadows - afraid that if someone sees who we really are - dark parts and all - that they won't like us - all the while the other person is in exactly the same position.

Until one of us decides to leap - to take the risk- to ignore the heart pounding furiously inside the chest and be vulnerable.

It is in that moment that we are the best version of ourselves. We dare to believe in possibilities- we open our heart to another person - we put our faith in the promise that God wants to show us He loves us -we are alight.

When we put ourselves in another person's place - when we strive to understand how another person thinks or feels - we are putting ourself second. We are becoming Christlike.

When Jesus was on the cross, He became the perfect example of what love should look like. Our culture talks a lot about give and take but it is just talk. Real love lived out looks like 1 Corinthians: patience, kindness, gentleness, forgiveness. Not much take in those words. No reference to whether the other person is also trying to do those things. No discussion about growing old or drinking Jello through a straw together when you can't find your dentures - not a word about wrinkles or sags. Just guiding principles that when followed lend themselves to a love and a life well lived out. And when we look to that example of Jesus on the Cross- there was no "take" about it - but there was a whole lot of give.

I am in the middle of a season of giving - it seems that all my time and energy and money are going to others these days - but during just a few moments today, I got to give the gift of healing and quite by accident, I received a peace and joy that just overflows my heart.

Coasting

The great experiment which involved telling all of the adults in this house that they had to have a job or be going to school as of October 1st has been a grand success.

Now I will digress for just a moment to say that the whole idea of having to put my children out without employment and taking the car and cell phones, thus eliminating their ability to get a job- was entirely a possibility - and the whole idea of it made me physically ill to think about. But good parenting means that you have to push sometimes - and the gentle pressure applied at the right location has worked.

Josh actually got 2 job offers today - and he was genuinely pleased about it. It was amazing to see the pride on his face when he realized he was awash in job offers. I am still pushing for him to be in school in January - but that is a battle for another day - today I am just happy for him.

Nicole got an offer last week for something that was okay, but seasonal- and today she got an offer from Home Depot - solid and with possibilities. A great blessing and a new beginning to start her life over again.

My brother has been working steadily doing odd jobs, but got a regular position a couple of weeks ago - and a raise just today.

And Jerra -will not be getting a job just now - she has about 60-days of work to finish her beautician's license and since that is where her talent is, I have asked her to go back full time so that she can graduate and make a lot of money doing what she is good at.

Mostly, I just wanted to post about how very pleased I am that God gave me the grace to push - that He helped me not back down when I wanted to - and that the jobs became available before my deadline - which is in less than 48 hours - allowing all of them to keep their dignity.

So thank you thank you thank you.

Tears

I will never forget Jim Davis hugging me in the morning.

Now before you get the wrong idea, Jim was happily married to a very beautiful woman.
When we first started working together, I knew Jim was a hugger. Nothing wrong with that- unless you are a person who has attempted to close off every bit of physical affection for anyone other than your kids - which I had done.

After Jake's dad left - making him one more in the great succession of men who left - I started to become jaded. I thought love was crap- a sham- a possibility for everyone but me because of some great cosmic bad joke. So I closed myself off. I was interested in men who either were totally not interested in me- or were totally bad for me. Nice. I found Jim and all his happiness and hugging annoying at first, and charming before I left - but it was the only physical contact I allowed myself to have with a man for many years after that.

I did cry - out of happiness and sadness for other people, but I no longer cried for myself. While I was there, though, I learned to love PEOPLE again. Not the singular, but people as a creation of God - people as a whole. And I cried for their pains.

Over the past ten years, the tears have come more and more freely and I haven't thought too much about it- older women get hormone shifts that make us more likely to cry- but I notice that not only are the tears more evident, but that I am genuinely sad about someone else's pain. I keep thinking about it long after I hear about it.

Which leads me to my story.
Two weeks ago we went on retreat with the teenagers. I have very mixed feelings about this - but I said I was all in, and I am, so I went. Dave Loner's daughter does not do things Half-Assed.

It was during one of the talks that it hit me - I profound need to pray to the Holy Spirit to give the speaker strength -to help her keep it together during a particularly emotional part. I got goosebumps and then: the tears started. I wasn't particularly sad, I was moved with sympathy, but not upset. But they just kept flowing.

Then during Adoration where we sat in the very presence of God ( akin to sitting next to the Ark of the Covenant) I was thinking about all the teenagers there - and I started to pray for them and for their families. And the stream started slowly - and moved into almost 45 minutes solid of praying and crying. Not like sobbing or even a loud cry, but those silent tears that bear witness to the depth of the emotion that overcomes you. I was a little embarrassed and tried a couple of times to dry them up - but they just kept coming.

Saturday we were at training for LifeTeen and we took an opportunity, again inviting the Holy Spirit, to pray specifically for our program and for each other. The tears started all over again.
Pam said that it was a gift of the Holy Spirit, like speaking in tongues. I guess I had never heard of that, or thought that something like that could happen to me. Apparently, it has nothing to do with your worthiness or your holiness - which then makes perfect sense!

As I read up on this, however, I see that it is a precursor to a period of great transition. Well, that could be good....or it could be not so good. Either way, I am looking forward to seeing what happens and I'll be sure to bring you along for the ride!

As the deer thirsts

Ever since I learned about the Native American Way of thinking about things, I have tried to pay attention to things that I would otherwise ignore - like little coincidences and that little voice in the back of my head.

But paying attention- which seems to be the command I hear the most lately - is paying off.

Monday of last week I drove out to a lady's home near Hartwell ( you know, the location of the Boatboy). On my way there, I heard the little voice to slow down. There are a lot of little farms and stands of trees that I had already zoomed past- but I slowed down just the same.

A fawn came darting across the road, just hopping happily. I came to a full stop and waited...... just a few seconds later, another fawn followed the same path. I looked into the stand of the woods and there was a doe, watching. Out of the corner of my eye came the two fawns again, loping across the highway and back into the thicket with their mother. I was transfixed on them- the joy of their hopping, the beautiful carmel color of their coats and the little white speckles on their fannies.

I slowly pulled forward, and they bounded out into the adjoining yard frolicking as though they had no need to fear anything in the world. It was wonderous. The mother never came out of the woods, but I knew she was there watching. I pulled away very slowly and was in awe of what I had seen.

Thursday evening, I getting into my car and all of a sudden there was a great crashing through the woods by our house, along the creek bed. A flash of white tail confirmed that it was a deer - in our yard! We haven't seen any deer since they cut down the 17 acres behind our house. The deer bounded into the brush and laid low until evening came. we walked back and forth by where he was laying, but never saw him - we have some pretty dense brush. He was gone by morning.

I saw another deer bounding across the road - but because sometimes I don't pay attention, I cannot tell you all the details - I only remember that when I saw the twins, they were my second sighting in a week and I thought it was interesting.

I have looked up a dozen references on what it means to see a deer- and several of them say it is a message to focus on gentleness and cautious awareness of my surroundings, like the doe. I don't know, though, I sound a lot more like that buck - dashing through the woods, making enough noise to wake the dead, knocking things over. Maybe he was my message: don't worry, you aren't the loudest member of Creation ever! I'll keep paying attention.

The moon is made of shiny paper...

Did you see the moon tonight?

I mean, I am not wholly sure that the moon you saw overhead was the same blue-white with a dark navy sky behind it and a little puff of white clouds at it's feet, just reflecting the irridescent white, but that was the moon we had tonight.

When I look up, I realize just how small I really am in the scheme of things. I will never be a great orator - or a great influencer of societal trends - or a movie star - but I hope, that to my little group of friends, I have led a life that brings value to theirs.

The moon casts its light on all of us, whether we are free or enslaved, rich or poor, in cool temperatures or in sweltering heat, in sickness or in health. It doesn't pick favorites- it is an equal opportunity blessing.

A few months ago, I had a falling out with one of my very best friends. We have been friends and struggled through single parenting together since Jake was a baby- so for over 15 years.

Our paths have diverged and during a visit to Indy last June, we fought over something stupid which escalated into something very serious and we haven't spoken to one another since. I have called to apologize and have tried to reopen the lines of communication - but to no avail. Sometimes there is just too much damage to repair, and I may just have to accept that we are at that point in our relationship. It is sad, though.

I remember when we lived in Arizona that the moon and the stars were so astounding that it seemed you could keep driving up the mountain and touch them. They were more numerous and clear there than anywhere I have ever been before or since. No valuables according to material wealth, but the beauty of the land and the sky are unsurpassed.

I loved to watch the moon and spent many hours staring up looking for answers when we moved to Georgia. I told the Ogre story today and was surprised by just how emotional I still am in the telling of it. Maybe I should write a book. As I was talking about my dad sitting outside on the porch at the lake house cleaning his rifle, I remember the sheen of the moonlight in the curls of his hair. I remember feeling so comforted by his watch over us that I was finally able to collapse and release the fear I had that day- and there was a LOT of fear.

Each day we are given the ability to start over - to make new choices - to have new dreams.

I once had a dream of a conventional life with a conventional man who loved me and three college-bound kids in tow. That didn't work out so well - so I have let go of that dream and sent it back to the moon for some other woman to fulfill. I dreamed then of an unconventional man as well, but that doesn't seem to be working out very well either. Tonight as I finish up my day, I will pray for a dream to direct me in this next chapter of my life - to help me see where I should be going and to help me be the best duck in my little pond that I can be.

Goodnight, Moon.

A rolling Stone gathers no Moss

This morning, as I am getting ready, I have the sense that this is the foundation work required to have a new beginning. Me and Ol' Saint Peter - we are all about the rocks and foundation. I like what is being built.

I have been nudging - and now am pushing - to get the people in my household to where I know they need to be. And as a result, we have had some real progress in the past couple of days. My middle son actually came to me about a problem - ten days before the crisis point - and worked out a compromise. He is growing into a young man I am really proud of.

I have found great peace in asking God to handle my love life- and in a big confirmation, when I posted something on Facebook about feeling loved, everyone thought it had to do with a man. Nope. And I am pleased about it. I made the decision to take care of myself the same way I take care of the kids. I know, it is about time, isn't it. It all started with collecting heart-shaped rocks, which are much more prolific than you'd think. These are the stones we did on our retreat this weekend- I love mine and have it in the kitchen currently.

What? Doesn't everyone keep stones in their kitchen?

I have miles to go before I sleep, but I sure feel better about the journey these days.

Backhoe and Lime 6 years later

September 17th is Loner Exodus Day.

I still have nightmares at times about the severity of the situation. They aren't as vivid anymore, and I feel somehow detached - but the faces and the emotions are still very much there. I cannot understand how someone I loved, completely lost his mind, hit Josh, hit me and then started sleeping openly with one of my friends, couldn't wait to divorce me, and then planned to shoot us one by one and bury us with a new water treatment system that he was going to install so that no one else could have us. (I still don't know if that was because he thought there was another man in my life or not, I haven't called to ask him)

The water pipes and bags of lime were there, stacked in a big pile by the treeline - and the backhoe had been rented. And the gun- well I know that his father's rifle was just inside the attic door and was easily accessible. I'd seen it before.

We have survived 6 years after the threat. Babies born that summer are in first grade now- that is a LOT of time.

Can you even believe it? Every day, women in the United States die as a result of domestic violence- killed by someone they think they love. Amazing, tragic, and insane.

And for some unknown reason, we were spared.

I can scarcely verbalize my deep thanks that in the moment where my human intuition failed me, I looked to the Heavens and He heard me. Not only did I have the inkling, but I had 2 phone calls which told me to go. Right judgement and wisdom compliments of the Holy Spirit because the Stacey spirit sure as heck didn't know what to do.

I was able to protect my children- first by having them brought to the Principal's office and then having them picked up by my parents - and later transported to Georgia with me. All of this completely by divine providence, because when I read my posts from the days before, I am still wavering about whether he was dangerous. I am still unable to believe that this horror is actually a reality. And sometimes when I look back, it is as though it was someone else who lived through this, and I am just retelling the story.

We had the support of amazing friends, the Indianos, and my parents who showed up to help pack our whole house in less than 48 hours - then showed up again as we moved our things from storage to the house we have now. I remember that it was like Christmas when we saw our things again after 6 months.

Georgia has indeed been an adventure. I still recall that it took 6 months before we stopped having regular nightmares about him trying to kill us- and in part, I think that ongoing trauma and fear in my mind was part of the demise of my relationship with Justin, but that is another posts all together. Despite a LOT of counseling, it is so hard for me to trust someone after that trust is broken. It is something I am working on, but I am not there yet.

In the story of our exodus, Justin is the hero. He unselfishly took us in- three kids and 2 dogs and 30 days of wages to my name. He just said "yes" when the time came and for that I will forever hold a special place in my heart for him.

I think that he is also the reason why my heart is still open to loving someone - why there isn't a fear of another person - because during this time where bitterness tried to plant seeds in my heart, he helped me be open to love - even if it didn't turn out like we planned. He kept reassuring me that I was in fact entitled to have someone love me back. I think we belong to the mutual admiration society - because there are aspects of each of us which have changed forever as a result of our time together. And leaving an indelible mark is admirable.

In six years, there has been a lot of loss- I really miss living in Indiana with all of my family.

Since the day we moved we have lost my Dad, the lake house, another marriage, and a couple of dogs. There are times where I have felt everything was restored to us - and others where I feel like our life was stolen from us. Either way, we are still here and not "eating worms" as Josh says- so it is a pretty good day!

But I have to believe there is a reason why I survived this - why the kids had to live through domestic abuse when all they really wanted was a family complete with a Godly father - why we survived in spite of the odds that we should not.

So I stand, today, on the precipice- going into a retreat weekend which is focused on the Holy Spirit's influence on our lives - and I hope that as a result of this weekend, I'll be able to determine where exactly the Good Lord wants me to spend my energy - and how this experience can help others hope and trust in Him.

He is the reason I am still here - that Josh is writing music, that Jerra is learning about love, that Jake's attitude is an inspiration to others. And it is for His Glory that I will remember this day, every year as long as I live as a testimony to His Love.

The Obedience Project

o·be·di·ence   /oʊˈbidiəns/

–noun
1. the state or quality of being obedient.
2. the act or practice of obeying; dutiful or submissive compliance: Military service demands obedience from its members.
3. a sphere of authority or jurisdiction, esp. ecclesiastical.
4. Chiefly Ecclesiastical .
   a. conformity to a monastic rule or the authority of a religious superior, esp. on the part of one who has vowed such conformance.
  b. the rule or authority that exacts such conformance.

Origin: 1150–1200; ME < OF < L oboedientia.
 
Let's be honest here, this particular noun is not a natural part of my persona.  If my friends were to describe me, the state of being obedient would not be in the list. In fact I find myself sometimes secretly pushing the limits to prove that I can do what I want as opposed to what I have been told to do - just to see how much I can get away with.  This is not always a conscious decision, in fact I think it is some subprogram that my subconscious runs in the background, but when I look back on situations, I see that it was running.  Maybe this is an attempt at proving I am special in some way.  Maybe almost everyone does this.  Hah- you know the line: you are special just like everyone else!
 
This morning at Mass, though, when this was mentioned in the readings it was like a punch to my chest.  I had the realization that a Loving Father would only give rules and ask me to obey them if those rules were in my best interest and designed to protect me. In essence, I realized that by not obeying the rules- by not being obedient - I have put myself in danger, or at least invited trouble unnecessarily.
 
Don't misunderstand me, I am not saying that all rules imposed by a Church or a Government are good rules, but there is a difference between just disobeying because you can and disobeying a rule on moral principle.  I am talking about those things I disobey just because I can.
 
When I was a young girl, and the emphasis on having a man in my life hadn't been linked so closely with my worth, I wanted to be a missionary.  I read endless volumes of the Maryknoll books that were piled in my grandparent's bathroom and when they came to speak at Mass, they spoke of a world that just entranced me.   They take vows, those missionaries.  Vows of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience. 
 
Well, we have been blessed with exactly what we need.  No more, no less - and that is not exactly poverty, but there are times that it feels pretty darn close. I think more than focus on a bank account, though, poverty means denying opulence and overdoing it in favor of sharing what you have.  It is a focus on people instead of stuff.  Okay, I am doing that one okay already.
 
Chastity has been a product of my current situation, not a choice I have made consciously.  This may be the next thing I work on- but for now, the obedience is the target.
 
So, I am going to work on being obedient: meeting my deadlines, paying bills on time, getting where I need to be early, doing what I know I "should" be doing.    It will be an experiment that I'll try until the end of October.  Let's see how it works out, if things change by trying to be obedient.

What is it that only God can do?

The email devotion this morning caught my attention because I can answer this one pretty easily. I have prayed for healing for Jake- and while I am not thrilled about the outcome, I know that now is not the time yet for this to be over for us.

Only God can fix the disaster area that is my love life.

I still talk to about a dozen men I used to date, mostly on Facebook, and we have stayed friend after a romance.I think that speaks to the friendship that was a part of the romance, but it has left me perplexed.
I wear my heart on my sleeve and totally stink at hiding what I am feeling.
I am going out for drinks and dinner with someone who has potential, but no spark, because he has potential and I wonder if that makes me a total jerk- I've been counseled that I need to give it some time to see if my feelings change.
I hurt the person I actually like back and he will probably NEVER ask me out. Super.

I seem to be attracting, at least historically, people with negative energy. I've gone back to meditative prayer to adjust that energy - hopeful that this will help! 

So this prayer, I will send to the Heavens:

Dear Lord,

I want to offer a prayer for the partner I haven't found yet.  Please be a balm to his heart because if his lonliness is like mine, it hurts him.  Please reassure him that I am coming and preparing myself to be a good partner when You deem the time to be right. I don't care about his looks, I don't care about his age, I only care that he has a heart for You and loves You above all else.  I would like him to be human, and have frailties, please, a saint might be a little overwhelming to a sinner like me. I do care that he has room in his heart, I do care that he is able to love me without major renovations, I do care that he can take care of himself.  Lord, I'll trust you to take the pain of this longing from me until such time as it is appropriate for me to look again. I love You - and I know You love me back. I felt that so intensely in Adoration last night.

Now if you could manifest that in physical form, that'd be great.
Thanks.

ePiC FaiLUrE

When my dad was dealing with Lymphoma, he started doing a lot of reading about possible medical, holistic, and dietary influences on the progression of cancers. We have always been proponents of good nutrition and supplementation. About that same time, I had read about Suzanne Somers and her remarkable ordeal with breast cancer - where she allowed the surgery to remove the tumor, but refused to have the subsequent chemotherapy. She used appropriate nutrition, supplementation and bioidentical hormone replacement therapy to make her body healthy.

I have always love her work, so when I found out that she had several books with deal with hormone replacement and aging, I bought them and read through them hungrily . While I am not a proud woman, and I am not afraid to grow older, I need to stay healthy because there are people who depend on me.


So over the years I have seen a couple of good holistic practitioners who have started me on a variety of meds based on my vitamin deficiencies: Tumeric, Vitamin D, Omega 3, CoQ10, Selenium and a multivitamin for good measure. I also added progesterone after my hysterectomy to assure that my hormones were in line- because before that they were not. I think they are working out well because I am rarely sick and I feel really good most all of the time - even if I don't get enough sleep.

I switched compounding pharmacies and in the confusion of calling my prescriptions in, the hormones got switched. About 5 weeks ago, when I met a man who I actually liked AND respected - I started taking estrogen twice a day. So by the third day on this regimen, I have roughly the hormones of a woman in her 7th month of pregnancy. Super. Emotional, crying for no reason, taking everything personally, having trouble sleeping and concentrating. I can totally see it now - of course, hindsight is 20/20.

I was talking with my friend, Mary, on Friday, and she pointed out that I was more emotional than usual- I called the pharmacy and asked about the Rx as it is the only thing I take by prescription. I had missed my Friday night and Saturday doses already- so when I got the message on Sunday morning that it had been just estrogen - I was....well I was upset.

It is very possible that I was at my worst-possible emotional state for the past month- the exact time when I needed to be strong for my family and take care of Jake and when I had the potential to get to know someone who had all the qualities I was looking for.

I read back through my notes to him -and I sounded like an ass - like a 12-year old who was mad about not getting her way and not getting enough attention. Not my best-self at all.

So I sent him a note and apologized - said I had been an ass - and hoped that he would forgive me. I don't know if he will - or if I will ever hear from him again.

That is something I will regret - or maybe think of wistfully as it certainly wasn't an error I made on purpose or with the intention of destructing things.

But I did learn an important lesson - that if something feels off, I should trust my instincts and not just blame the circumstances. I thought all the emotional blathering was a result of worrying about my son - but even though I am not thrilled about the outcome, I knew the entire time that God would watch over us - and He did. That was a poor explanation for my weird emotional state. I need to look deeper and more objectively if I doubt myself again. The lesson I learned is that I need to trust where I have been - and I need to trust myself.

This morning's readings were the story of the Prodigal Son - a do over, so to speak. I resolved in my heart that I am going to stop worrying about being alone - while still praying for my future partner and his well-being - because He is watching over me and He can make things work out in this next do-over even if I can't.

Season of Goodbye

This has been a week of goodbyes and it is never my favorite thing - even when it is necessary.

I said goodbye to the hope of a life without epilepsy for my son - and have embraced the reality of his future. I'm still a bit sad about this - in so far as I would like a brighter outlook for him.  But, he has a great attitude and a good heart and he should do well regardless of what is put before him.  There is the still, small hope that he might outgrow this when his growth spurt stops - and I am also considering taking him to Medjugorjia- but for now, where we are is where we are.

I said goodbye to our dog, Angus.  He hopped the fence last week when we left for Cleveland and by the time I got to the pound to pick him up ( the kids didn't have any cash to go get him) he had been adopted by another family.  Again, bittersweet because he has hopped this fence and gotten picked up about a dozen times in the past two years. It has become a real stressor for us- dropping whatever we are doing and going off to chase the dog - so ultimately it is probably a blessing - but I loved him and now he's gone.

Lastly, I said goodbye to being the Savior of this whole household.  I am in a bad spot with my older kids that is entirely of my own making, having allowed them to continually stay here without working or being enrolled in school.  I have found myself becoming my father this week.  Honestly, I wish I could be more like him- he didn't take any of my crap and as a result, I have been a hardworker - something that has absolutely saved my rear.  Every morning I am rousting people from their beds - reminding them that they need to get out and go look for work.  Yesterday I even had to confront my daughter about her school work - which is supposed to be self-study now- only she isn't doing it at all. My brother has already found and lost one job - and now has found another one in the 3 months he has been here - I just don't get why the kids are having such a hard time. They have been looking online - during a recession no less - and haven't found anything.  Really? I'm almost shocked.  They have to get moving and get on with their lives. 

There is a deadline - by the end of the month and going forward, they all have to pay me rent to stay here - well everyone over 18 does. I can't keep paying for everything except cigarettes any longer - Jake and I should be living like Kings on the income I make- but when you add in all the other people who need gas and groceries and car insurance and cell phones - the money gets stretched a lot tighter.  And that isn't fair to Jake.

My biggest fear in this season of goodbyes is that I will have to actually kick out my own kids.  But if I am truly Dave Loner's daughter - that is exactly what I will have to do so that they can learn the consequence of their actions - and it is not a nice consequence.

The nice thing about goodbyes is that they are a part of the neverending cycle of life.  This is one of my favorite things about God- something the Navajo understand so very well. Our lives and what we should expect play out in the natural world around us and give us a clear picture of how things work . We have summer where everything is lush and growing - then things start to cool and die off and we have to say goodbye.  Then the winter comes and we rest and rejuvenate and grow fat and happy, just in time for spring and saying hello all over again.

Why MENSA isn't doing you any favors...

I like smart people just as much as the next guy, but sometimes, they really frost me.

Growing up, my folks put a lot of emphasis on our education, but more importantly on humility.
It is great that Davey and I are intelligent - great that I did well in school, but after I stopped receiving report cards, who in the heck cares that I aced my SATs?  Exactly - no one.

In all honesty, I don't use big words on purpose - it can muddy the water and cloud the meaning of the message.

When I am with physicians, I often find myself speaking more simply and I can see that my lack of clinical language can impact the way they hear my message.  Eh, it happens and over time the realize that if my primary function is to explain things in layman's terms, that layman's terms will be my primary language.
Using lots of thesaurus-based words doesn't mean you are intelligent - and even if it does, what good is a high IQ unless you put that brain-power to use for the good of others?  I reminds me of that passage: if I can speak with the tongue of angels, but have not love, I am a clanging gong...

Does my IQ entitle me to more income?
Does it make my opinion carry more weight or validity?
Does my IQ mean that I know more than other people?
Does it mean that I am somehow more "right" than everyone else?

Um....no.

Measurement of IQ has been heatedly debated of late because it measures only one type of intelligence.  This is borne out in the number of people we know who are book-smart, but couldn't find their way out of a cardboard box outside the classroom.  Or the people who are great orators, but who cannot put those principles into practice because their emotional intelligence doesn't match their intellectual intelligence.

Everyone has their own strengths, and focusing on how brilliant you are can very easily lead to begininning to believe your own accolades.  It is a pride-fall in the making.

Be thankful for your gifts, utilize them for the betterment of mankind, but for Heaven's Sake, don't think that because you paid your dues to MENSA that you are the only person in your circle of friends who has any sense.

Knowing

I know things.  That sounds weird, but I have come to accept it.

When we talk about the gifts of the Holy Spirit, we include knowledge and right judgement - which, when aided by the Holy Spirit, become otherworldly gifts which allow us to navigate our world more easily - or at least more informed.

On Monday, I had the overwhelming feeling that I should get Nicole's things out of her apartment.  I cannot say exactly where this thought came from, because honestly, she is an adult and it is her responsibility.  I was just innundated with this thought that we needed to get her things out before she was in trouble with the police.  This is an urge which is NOT based on any information I had that suggested this scenario to be true. My brother gave me some flack about it - and said I was being silly.  We moved her stuff Monday night anyway.

Tuesday when I got home, I was told that her boyfriend had called her to say that the police had been to his house and that the apartment was a "place of interest" because of the number of kids hanging around there and that they thought maybe either he or she were selling drugs.  About an hour after that call, came the call that the police had come and placed all of her remaining belongings out in the street - and that anything of value had already been taken.   Spooky, I know.

I knew the night my dad passed away that it was time.  I had a conversation with my mom  while she was dropping off her car at the shop about how we needed to let him go and that our desire to keep him here was keeping him from passing over. We agreed that it was time and that he was in pain and deserved not to suffer anymore.   Not 30 minutes after this conversation, she called me as she arrived back at the lake house to find him taking his last breath.

I knew that the threat was real when we picked up and moved to Georgia.  There had been dozens of threats in the preceding months, but this time, when the threat was made, there was such a cold calculated feel to it, that I knew it was true.  You may remember that 6 months later I discovered that there had been the rental of a backhoe and 500 pounds of lime meant to dispose of us - completely lining up with what I had "known" would happen..   I took a lot of heat for that decision because I didn't have proof- but 6 months later, the proof showed up.

I've known things when I meet someone - like when I met Lora, I knew right away that we would be like sisters.  I knew the same thing when I met my friend Mary- and it has come to pass.  I've met people through work and been able to sort the wheat from the chaff pretty quickly.   When I met Dan and Justin both, I knew something was off - but I ignored it because I wanted proof.  Mistake.

I have met a couple of people, that I knew would be close to me, but that I wouldn't be able to keep.  That is a tough one, to go through with a friendship or romance knowing that you will lose them.  This isn't a fatalistic view of things, but rather an understanding of what is to come. I chose freely to love in spite of what I knew would be a negative outcome.  ( I think you can learn from each person you are befriended by and that knowledge is worth the subsequent heartbreak)

Sometimes, there is a man involved, like there is at present.  I know he is scared to let someone see who he really is -but he really wants to, deep down, be known and loved.  He is inherently a good man, and I have said as much- but he doesn't believe it. He doesn't yet believe that he deserves to be loved.  I understand that position, I have been there myself.  I know that fear is guiding some of his decision making right now- and that being who I really am and being honest is what is called for.

I had fireworks- ME - I actually had fireworks. I have kissed a hundred frogs since I was 13- and had some good kisses in return - but this tops anything I had ever experienced - the chemistry was off the charts. That is rare and was meant to get my attention - and it has.   It is risky  - mostly because it could go either way.  Either he will crush me, reject me, ignore me and break my heart - or he will be the love I have been waiting for all these years.   Should he choose to do the former, he is in direct conflict with what I have been shown,  but he has to choose, he has to lead, he has to be the man in this story.  If I take that role, the whole thing will be ruined.

My friend called to tell me about a suspicion she had about her spiritual battle - and immediately I knew that it was indeed as she perceived- I had goosebumps all up my arms and legs which confirmed the creepy suspicion she had verbalized.

I have the routine inklings - like when I know I need to throw a kind of infusion sets or a copy of a study that I never carry in my bag - only to be asked for them later in the day.  I have moments where I ignore this and don't pack something, or don't call someone, only to find that if I had, things would be easier on me.

So what are you to do about such a problem with intuition - or knowing  - or whatever you want to call it?  I have tried to ignore it - and that just comes back to bite me.  I am now learning to embrace it an handle it like a gift from the Holy Spirit to help with navigation - like a situational GPS. It sounds weird, doesn't it?  Or maybe it is something we all posess and just need to learn to harness.  I don't know the answer, I only know that I needed to share this tonight.

Trust and Peyton Manning

I love Peyton Manning for a number of reasons including his humility and candor.  He is accomplished and has been known to tell people that he and the offensive coordinator are the ones calling the plays - not the other members of the team.  And given his success, he has a right to trust his own judgement.   He told the following story starting at about the 5:30 mark on this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QZow3cuCOU

I've heard it in another interview as well, so this is paraphrased:

During the regular season, a  second-year back up tight end named Brian Fletcher got to rotate in the lineup.  The first time Peyton threw him a pass, they had a rhythm and an energy like guys who had been playing together for years. Brian really likes to give his ideas in the huddle for a number of offensive plays, mostly featuring him, so many of these suggestions go unnoticed.  Peyton fondly calls him "The Suggestion Box". After their first game together, several games went by and he never threw to him again for one reason or another. 

They still saw each other in practice, but Peyton's primary target was back to being Marvin.  Still on the same team and with the same goal, but not working together at each practice.

During the 4th quarter of the  AFC Championship game against rival New England Patriots,  Brian once again got his chance.  Brian came to the huddle and again suggested that Peyton put his faith in him and run a play that featured him receiving the ball.  Peyton described as vibrating with all-over- the-place exuberance.  Usually when Brian suggested such a play, Peyton said he was resistant, but this one time, he decided to try something different and use the suggestion.   

The play was run, and the pass was incomplete. Fletcher didn't hold on to it despite being hit right in the numbers, and a down was wasted, and only he was to blame.

There had been a mistake - and it was serious enough that it could cost them the game.

To his credit, Fletcher comes back to the huddle and asked Peyton to run a corner route and trust him to catch it this time.  Peyton told him that it took a lot of nerve to ask him to risk the game so that one person could prove himself.  Fletcher asked him to do it anyway. Peyton, despite having been disappointed by this person just moments before - took a step back and thought about the suggestion - and did what Fletcher asked him to do.

The rest of the story is predictable, Peyton throws, Fletcher catches it for a 17-yard gain and 6 plays later Joseph Addai runs it in for a touchdown, winning the game ( I told you it was a Peyton story, of course they won).

Peyton said later, that if he wouldn't have said "yes" to Fletcher and believed in him, even though he had failed at the very same task just minutes before, they might have lost the game. Having faith that both of them were after the same result enabled him to trust the young receiver and complete his mission.

Penalty Box

My girl Jeanna loves hockey.  Every year as the season grows closer, I see more and more notes about the forthcoming season.  When we were younger, we would go to the Indianapolis Ice games, waiting in the hallway afterwards for a glimpse of the young warriors on their way out of the rink.  Sometimes they would do autographs afterwards and people would would stand for an hour to get a puck signed.   I loved waiting in the hallway because all of the men were taller than me - even the short ones - because of those ice skates.  It was the only place I was not cognizant of my height differential -and that was a beautiful thing.

Hockey can be a rough sport, but the thing I love the best is the penalty box. It operates under the concept of forgiveness, mercy and reparation.  YOu behave badly, you go into the box and pay your time, you are released back onto the ice and restored to your former position more often than not.

There are no comments from the announcers about how you have done this a million times before.  No one listing hte littany of offences that have gotten you to the penalty box in previous games. And once the penalty is served, no one comments on how much of the game you spent there instead of scoring with your teammates.

Oh that life had such a penalty box, where you could go and pay off your time for your  minor infractions  - those not resulting in death - like high sticking and icing.

It would be so good if we could assume that people were doing the best they can and allow them to make a mistake and then get back in the game without apologizing for the same error time and time again.

Michael Finnegan

Do you remember the song about Michael Finnegan - he had whiskers on his chin again??

The chorus always said: Poor Old Michael Finnegan. Begin Again!

While I cannot take credit for this piece of literary genius, I certainly get the sentiment.  The same thing keeps happening over and over again - and you have to begin again over and over again. A bit monotonous, really.

Beginning Plan B all over again.  This includes training the seizure dog to get Jake more independence, applying for Disability and Medicare, joining the local epilepsy foundatoin, coaching for GED testing in November and most importantly, trimming the dead wood from my life so that I can get focused on Jake and getting his life launched in the right direction.

New meds were started on Thursday afternoon- and despite missing a dose this morning and an erratic sleep schedule, there have been no seizures.  Miracle of miracles.  This medication just might do the trick.  Ask me how I like it 6 weeks from now.

Again this weekend I talked to the adults in my household about getting gainefully employed.  This was followed by my promise to have EVERYONE up and moving before 9am and with the admonition that by the end of the month, I needed fiscal responsibility.

I need to get some things listed on Craigslist to get more positive cash flow - and tomorrow, before heading to the pool for sun and fellowship, I have to spray the yard for fleas again. 

Tuesday I will speak with the lady at our new church and help to coordinate an education program for people with chronic illnesses as a part of the health ministry. Looking forward to doing this in a local setting with the same people I see in the grocery store.

We have resolved the house cleaning issue satisfactorily - so the woman with the full-time job does not do all the housework as well - much better.

And finally, I concluded this week that ever since I decided in 2000 that I could raise kids and have a romantic life, things have gone awry.    I have been praying for God to bring me a man who loves Him and who has a good spirit and a good heart. Haven't gotten a man like that who loves me back - though I know it is possible - just had a couple like that who have left just like everyone else.   I am not feeling sorry for myself, only wistful for the longing of my heart: to share my overflowing heart with someone who won't cheat on me - won't lie to me about the important stuff - won't be afraid of accepting love in return.

And so, this last item on my list, is to drop out of the miasma of dating and thinking about love- and drop back into just being someone's mama.  Begin again the path of focusing on my calling. After all, that is what I am really good at anyway.

Hope Takes A Holiday

At 11am this morning, the neurosurgery team came into the room and discussed the results of the video EEG, the psychological testing, and the PET scans.  The doctor, who is the chief of staff of the top Epilepsy Center in the nation, told me that the results were conclusive and that Jake had generalized seizures.  This means that instead of having just one place in the brain that causes the seizures, there are many places.  This is not good news -unless you count having a surgery that doesn't work, good news.

Hope walked out the door when the staff did-
My heart is just broken- in a way that I cannot even describe-
More painful even than when Dad passed - because there was always the knowledge that the cancer would eventually take him- but this....this just hurts everything.
I am worried that I won't be able to get the tears to stop before he wakes back up- Jake has had some Ativan to help him sleep and relax after the last seizure - so I have a little time.

I can hear my dad running through the back of my mind: you don't have the luxury of falling apart, you have a family to take care of.  And I know that is true.

As I am typing this, the Nurse Practitioner came back in to check on me - apparently I am pretty easy to read.   She has his medicine ready - and they are going with a new combination based on what we saw.    I know, that is a good thing - I know they are doing what is best for him - and there is a glimmer of hope that it will give him the control that he once had.  Oddly, all I can think about is the number of people with Diabetes that I have had the same conversation with: hang on, don't lose hope, something else may work.  My head knows this is true, too- just my heart isn't buying it yet. God bless her, she is a kind soul and had a tough job this morning because she knew it wasn't the outcome I was hoping for.

There is that word again: hope
I know the plans I have for you, plans to give you hope and a future....
I allowed myself to hope in a future where Jake would be independent - where I could be independent.
I had thoughts about a life different from the one I am leading.

And as I type this, I realize that there have been some good things about today as well.  People have responded so positively to Jake - they have been so kind - and he has discovered that he is not at all alone in this.
I have met some new friends who also have kids with epilepsy.

Jake will get to keep his hair

I will go back to my previous plan which is to live in a way that Jake will be supported  - and to keep trying medications and doctors until we get it right and he gets his life back.

Oh, don't misunderstand me - I am pissed off at hope right now - thought about being mad at God, but logically, if I respect Him enough to be mad at Him, I must actually believe in Him- so being mad isn't going to help at all.

So for today, hope is on a holiday - don't ask me to believe in anything - I need a little time to recover.

Sur-reality

I have decided, in my sleep-deprived state- that this whole thing is rather surreal.  I have spent nearly every day of the past year trying to make sure the medication was taken on time, that the diet was sound, and that Jake got enough sleep. I have worried about these details to the point of making these issues the top priority in my life - and rightly so as he is my son and it is my responsibility.

Today, I felt as though I was betraying some ancient secret that would bring about the end of the world, as I explained to our Nurse Practitioner, Molly, what things would trigger Jake's seizures.  I just listed them off - and then felt like I had opened Pandora's Box by even suggesting that we allowed these triggers in his life to induce the very thing I have been trying desperately to prevent!

See, surreal.  I am inviting the same seizures that I have been blocking out for months now - like those people with Stockholm Syndrome who go from fearing their captors to actively entering into relationship with them.  And I feel a little dishonest about it.

Perhaps it is my lack of ability to embrace them - to welcome them warmly - that causes them to elude us.  We have withheld medication, played the game that required intense concentration, sat too close to the screen on my computer while a movie played and even stayed up until after midnight as lures for the seizure to show itself. But it remains elusive, like a big cat who knows he faces extinction and keeps hidden in the bush.

Jake is sleeping now - thank God because it is well after midnight. I am sure that tomorrow will bring the seizures to us so that this very accomplished staff can review the information and give us insight into how we can give him his life back.  For now, though, I will try to drift off to sleep like I did when he was a baby: listening for any sign of trouble while trying to recuperate for what tomorrow will bring.