Tag: #overcoming

Choices

Posted on by mrsmonarch

Hello my friends!

A couple of months ago, an event occurred in my life that has had a ripple effect. It’s taken a while for me to process through the many layers of emotion it brought about. Much like an onion, I’ve had to peel away at it, layer by layer, shedding a few tears along the way. I think I am finally ready to share the experience with you, though I give you fair warning—it’s quite different than most of the cutesy, feel-good things I write.

I’ll spare you all the boring personal details of the “who, what, when and where” and get to the nitty gritty. I set off on a journey, with the intent of doing something nice for someone I am close to. But when I arrived at their home, I found myself in a very uncomfortable— and potentially dangerous— situation. There was a third-party there that evening; someone I have had negative encounters with many times before. Everything in me bristled. I wanted to leave—but my friend begged me to stay. She had planned for us to watch movies and share snacks. She’d really put herself out. Plus, it was her birthday and I hated to disappoint her.  So, I fought back the pulsating waves of common sense and settled in for the night.

As the evening progressed, the situation I had been concerned about continued to disintegrate. Before the night was over, I found myself in a life-threatening situation that was completely unacceptable.   You see, the “third party” in the home that night is an addict, who had seriously over medicated himself and become a raging lunatic. He was throwing things and cursing up a storm. Seething frustration welled up inside him and bubbled over. About that time, he tore his shirt off, threw it to the ground as if to challenge me. He began beating his chest like a giant, silver-back gorilla.  All the while, he was screaming at me to shoot him!

If it sounds like an insane course of events— it was.

So by now, are you probably asking yourself why on earth I would walk into a situation like that? And if I hadn’t known in the beginning it would be like that, why I didn’t leave the moment things started to unravel?! Those are fair questions.

Well, my friends— not all things are clear and simple. We each have a filter we run our experiences through. A clean relationship filter gives us the ability to accurately assess a situation and quickly determine if it meets our relationship criteria. Oh… but a dirty processing filter is like driving a car with a filthy windshield. It blurs our vision, making it virtually impossible to safely navigate the roads of life!

And mine? Well… I have come to realize that my filter —the way I process human interaction—needed a serious cleaning! That’s the only sane explanation. People with healthy boundaries and clearly defined rules of engagement don’t allow themselves to be boxed in to interactions like that. It’s just that simple!

But I wasn’t ready to accept that a few months ago. I just kept pretending that if I tried a little harder, put myself out there a little more, kept pretending things weren’t as bad as they were… well… then eventually, the scene in front of me would change. Now that is the very definition of a dirty filter! I just didn’t want to see it that way…

You see, that raging lunatic— he’s my kid brother. And worse yet? The “friend” who begged me to stay— in spite of how insane the situation had become—she was none other than my elderly mother.

I know. I started off saying that the “who” didn’t matter, but the reality is— it matters. A LOT. Dear friends, you should never have to feel unsafe. EVER. Particularly not in the home of close friends and relatives. They should be your first line of defense; your “go-to” people when you have a need. So yes. The “who” matters. If I can’t face the ugly facts, what kind of a hypocrite would I be to expect more of you?! That’s why I’m bringing this story to light.

When I told my mom that I was uncomfortable staying in the house any longer, she offered a solution—“Go into the bedroom and lock the door. He won’t bother you there!” I was so dumb-founded by her response that I stood there with my mouth wide open but no words would come out. Why on earth would I stay over night in a house that required me to sleep behind locked doors?? My mother grew up in an abusive home. She knows better than to encourage behavior like that.

I remember looking over at my dad, who was standing two feet away from me while this barbaric scene unfolded. He had always been the voice of reason in an otherwise dysfunctional house. I expected him to say something— DO something. But he just stood there, looking down the steps at my brother with the strangest look on his face. I’m not sure what mixture of emotions he was feeling. He didn’t seem consumed with fear. Perhaps, looking back as a parent myself— it was sadness. Despair. Defeat. Hopelessness.

I don’t know because we don’t talk about those kinds of things in my “family of origin”.  As a side note here, I want to say that I really like that term, “family of origin”. A psychologist friend of mine gave me that one! I like it because it helps me distinguish between the family I came from (and had no choice in) and the family that I have built and created for myself, as an adult. There is a huge difference— and I make the distinction every chance I get!  

I was faced with a really difficult situation that night. It was one I didn’t want and one I did not bring on myself. Yet it forced me to make a choice. I had to ask myself if I was going to deny reality and pretend there was nothing wrong, or… if I was going to take a stand against the insanity that has hoovered over my family of origin for decades.

I took a deep breath. Whatever choice I made, I knew it would be “expensive”. You see, we have an unspoken rule in my family of origin. We don’t speak about dirty things like addiction, especially not when it comes to my brother’s ‘problem’. Breaking the rule makes him “feel bad” and has serious consequences. On the other hand, getting into a physical brawl with my brother, who out weighs me by fifty pounds, probably wouldn’t end well either! What’s a girl to do???

My wild-eyed brother was blocking the front door, still screaming and beating his chest. I had to threaten to call the sheriff before he wised up and cleared my path. It was a call that I was absolutely prepared to make. Thankfully, even as stoned as he was, I guess he could see that. He snarled, bent over to retrieve his shirt and stormed off to another room.

I begged my parents to leave with me, but they refused. They said they couldn’t /wouldn’t leave him like that.  If all that wasn’t bad enough, my mother turned on me that night, and screamed nasty things at me for daring to take action against my own brother. I knew the rules! How dare I threaten my brother with consequences for his behavior! I was a guest in her home!! I “had no right to call the sheriff,” she screamed. Didn’t I know that would get him in trouble?! My dad? He stood stoically silent through the entire ordeal.  He never said a word. Not one word. To me, that was the worst part of all of it.

Whew! O…….kay now. Where do I go from here??! I’m known the world over as “the Butterfly lady”… the lady who always tries her best to strengthen, encourage, and inspire others through her simple, light hearted analogies. So really— where do I go from here??! This is anything but light hearted!!

Well my friends— this one has been really close to home and painful to write about. But I believe with my whole heart that any experience can birth something useful. My painful life experiences are not exempt from that truth. So, here’s where I’m taking this…

I want to talk to you about Choices. The situation I was in left me with a choice to make. My brother made a choice. My mom made a choice. My dad made a choice. We each made choices that evening. Mine ended with me rushing down the stairs and out the front door as fast as my legs could carry me. I haven’t been back since. My mother has chosen to continue to pretend there isn’t a problem. My father has chosen to remain silent. My brother? He’s chosen to continue to blame everyone but himself for his current life circumstances.

I don’t like the choices they made. I don’t think they were right, or fair, or justified. I don’t even think they were logical or sane! But the only choice I have control over is the one I made. Me. My choice. And I stood firmly and made my choice! My brother wasn’t going to bully me out of my choice. My mother wasn’t going to manipulate me out of my choice. And my father? Even amid grievous disappointment, I was not going to allow his silence to invalidate my value as a daughter or human being. Nor was I going to allow his silence to void my right to feel protected. And I absolutely was not going to allow his silence to quelch my choice.

Friends— I have a saying. It’s kind of crass considering I’m a “conservative, Christian, home-school mom”. (Geeze! I hate boxes SO much!) But the saying—however crass you feel it is— is still entirely true. Ready? Here goes: “So much of the time, people think we have a choice between ‘Good’ and ‘Sucks’. But that’s not always the case. Some times, we simply have to choose between Sucks and Sucks WORSE!” 😛 Was that crass? Probably. It’s also true! 🙂

And that was the case in this situation. I didn’t get to choose between “good”, “better”, “best”. I got to choose between “sucks” and “sucks worse”! 🙁 But at least I was finally brave enough to make a choice!

My choice didn’t change my brother. My choice didn’t wake my parents up. Their world is still every bit as dysfunctional as it was the night this happened. But my choice DID change ME! It kept me safe. It was a step towards establishing healthier boundaries in my relationships. It drew a line in the sand and clearly delineated what I would—and would not— accept.

And guess what? My world hasn’t fallen apart the way I have always feared it would if I broke the “rules”. In fact, there is a peace that has settled over me that I have never had before. Almost like a spell was broken.

Friends, it wasn’t easy—- but I am pleading with any of you who are in the middle of a chaotic, unhealthy relationship— even if that relationship is with a parent, a spouse, a child or your oldest, dearest friend— consider making a choice and getting free! If you need help finding resources to do that, please reach out to me via email. Remember—change always starts with a choice! And the choice is YOURS.

 

Until Next Time,

 

 

 

What Is Success?

Posted on by mrsmonarch

I have been struggling with a troublesome question the past few months. It’s whirled around in my mind like a harsh winter wind, sneaking around the corner and rustling the dead leaves in a fitful fury.

The burning question is: What IS “success”???
Maybe it seems like an odd sort of question. I mean… success is… ummmm….. it’s…. ummm…

Exactly! You see, the meaning of “success” is an elusive thing; deeply personalized, according to our own unique set of priorities.

“Success” in the corporate world means “climbing the ladder”, from position to position, each increasing one’s responsibility, importance and financial compensation.

“Success” in the business world means finding wildly popular goods or services which will bring the company popularity and financial reward.

“Success” in the educational world equates to fancy pieces of parchment paper with words written in fancy print that declare you an expert in a specific field of study.

“Success” in the worldly sense usually translates to “stuff”. A big house. A new car. Exotic vacations. Stylish clothes. A bank statement with lots of zeros– in the right places, of course. 😉

To a writer like myself, “success” could easily be defined by numbers. “How many books have you sold?” or “How many subscribers do you have?”, a potential supporter might ask. If the numbers meet or exceed their expectations, they would consider me a “success”. Yes, even in a field like mine, “success” all boils down to “the numbers game”.

Occasionally, you will find people who define success in less materialistic ways . Those people will equate success as a happy marriage; a close-knit family; healthy children and grandchildren who are walking in the ways of God.

Each of these different definitions of success is accurate— at least by the world’s standard. The problem is… Believers aren’t supposed to be judging themselves according to the world’s standard! We are supposed to be lining ourselves up with the Word of God!

“Oh, Come on, Ledonna. We already KNOW that!”

To that, I’d say—- “Then why aren’t we living like it!”

Friends, I know that “ouches”! And trust me—I’m preaching to the choir here! I’m struggling with this… and have been for some time now. 🙁

You see, recently, I’ve been trying to determine what success means to ME— mostly because how we define it has a huge bearing on whether or not we experience the peace and deep satisfaction of a job “well done”.

The reality is— there is nothing wrong with corporate success. There is nothing inherently wrong with money in the bank or the nice things it can buy. A formal education can open a lot of exciting doors for a person. And I could make a strong argument for the fact that YHWH WANTS us to each have a strong, vibrant marriage, good health and abundant prodigy; proving that these non-monetary blessings are “successes” in their own right!

But the big question is: How does our Heavenly Father define “success”?? And more importantly— Does OUR plumb line for success measure up to His?!

  • Joshua 1:8 says, “This book of the law shall not depart out of thy mouth; but thou shalt meditate therein day and night, that thou mayest observe to do according to all that is written therein: for then thou shalt make thy way prosperous, and then thou shalt have good success.”
  • “Do what the LORD your God commands and follow his teachings. Obey everything written in the Law of Moses. Then you will be a success, no matter what you do or where you go” 1 Kings 2:3
  • 1 Timothy 6:10-12 tells us, “For the love of money is the root of all evil which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. But thou, O man of Elohim, flee these things and follow after righteousness, holiness, faith, love, patience and meekness. Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life whereunto thou are also called, and hast professed a good profession before many witnesses.”
  • “My son, do not forget my teaching, but let your heart keep my commandments, for length of days and years of life and peace they will add to you. Let not steadfast love and faithfulness forsake you; bind them around your neck; write them on the tablet of your heart. So you will find favor and good success in the sight of God and man” Proverbs 3:1-4
  • “What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?” Matthew 16:26

It seems pretty clear: Spiritual success is defined as obedience to His precepts. It’s possessing and modeling the fruit of the Spirit which resides in us, granting us the gifts of love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23).

The ultimate spiritual “success” is the attainment of eternal salvation, made possible by the atoning blood of His Son. Everything else in this world pales in comparison to “success” in this area!!!

While transformation of our spiritual life is God’s goal for us, He is still faithful to abundantly provide good things to His children in the physical realm (good health, food, clothing, houses, family, etc.). In fact, He loves to do these things for us! Matthew 6:25-33.

But He also warns us to be prudent because: “Where your treasure is, there also is your heart” Matthew 6:21.

So—-I’ve been asking myself…. “Where is my treasure?” and “Does my idea of success line up with the Father’s??”

Here’s some real transparency for you! I am a writer; and like most writers, I have a dream of publishing a book. To those of you who know me, that’s no big surprise. But humor me a few minutes and take a walk down this little path we’ll call “What If”…

Let’s say that this future book is destined to become a New York Times bestseller, but the publisher won’t agree to publish it with the chapter on salvation intact because she doesn’t agree with my statement that Jesus Christ (Yahshua the Messiah) is the only way into the Kingdom of Heaven.

What if getting my manuscript into the hands of a world renown publisher means that I have to water down my message to the point where its original purpose is lost? If I agreed to that chapter being removed, and the book went on to sell a million copies, and I made enough money to have that condo on the beach I’ve always wanted— would I be “successful”??

Hmmm. The world would say “YES! Of course! A million books is a HUGE amount of success! Your book will help soooo many people! That one chapter being removed won’t even be noticed!”  And maybe that book would help a lot of people, even without that particular chapter. I can certainly hope for that. But remember… I’ve invited you to play “What If..” with me…

What if my life’s PURPOSE was to write a book that ministers to the spiritual needs of an unsaved lady named Susan—a mom in her early 30s, living in rural Kansas, who’s struggling with depression and the weighty demands of raising children in the scary times we are living through?

What if — in the big galactic picture—Susan was scheduled to walk through a Goodwill store one day and pick up a 69 cent paperback book on the clearance shelf that’s cover caught her eye, and in that book she would see the glorious, life-altering plan of God clearly laid out before her for the first time in her life?

What if Yahweh’s perfect will for His precious child, Susan, was for her to find salvation through a cast-off paperback book, sitting on the clearance shelf of a local thrift store? That is inside the realm of possibilities. He has certainly worked in grander ways than that!

Now, consider this: What if she walks through that Goodwill store on that faithful day and that book isn’t there? What if that particular life-changing book was never written the way God intended because…. the publisher insisted on excluding the most important chapter and I agreed to that change because I was so eager to attain worldly “success”?

Would I be “successful” then? I mean … I’d be sitting on the balcony of my high-rise condo, clad in my sage green straw hat, clutching my favorite flavored coffee, looking out over the emerald blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico. And friends, that scenario certainly checks a number of boxes on my bucket list, for sure!! But could I consider myself “successful” if it comes to me at the cost of missing my purpose???

It should be no surprise that the Messiah left a warning about such “success” in his words to the Laodicean church found in the book of Revelation (v 3:17). This church was full of people who had money and lots of “stuff”. Yet he told them that they were “wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked” because their “success” came in ways that contradict His truths. Those are sobering words coming from our King!

As I have pondered that warning and its implications in my own life, I have come to understand that if attaining my ideal lifestyle means selling-out—- altering the words the Father gives me so that they will be popular instead of effective— then no!!! That’s not success!

If I have to write in such a way that sin is over-looked or perhaps even glorified— No. I am not successful. If I have to trade the life giving, eternity-altering words of the Living God for fluffy, feel good, best selling ones? Nah—- I’ll pass. Not only would that make me UN-successful, it would make me a total failure in the one area that is more important to me than anything else!

So as I have pondered the question of what success means to me, I have come to the conclusion that I would prefer two people read the uncompromising truth the Father has given me than have a million people purchase a book that misses the mark, defies the law or promotes sin.

But why has getting to that conclusion been so HARD for me???

My bible fell open to Matthew 8:19-20. Scripture is pretty clear. The Messiah—the Son of the Living God—and the very One I am supposed to pattern my life after—lived a life of miracles, yet had no place to lay His head. He was despised by those in “high places”, yet never let that distract Him from His purpose. He was never concerned about “the numbers”. He spoke to that solitary woman by the well just as passionately as He spoke to the crowd of five thousand the day He broke the bread and the fish. (John chapter 4; Mark 6:44)

Dear friends, I am writing today to confess that I’ve really struggled with this. I want to be “successful”— to be considered “good” at what I do; and able to use my God-given talents to provide for the needs of my family!! There’s nothing wrong with that!

But I am equally desperate to say that “It doesn’t matter!! Whether 2 people or 2 million people read this blog— I have been faithful to do what the Almighty has asked of me. The words are HIS— He can do whatever He wants with them!”

I WANT that kind of steadfast dedication! I LONG to be confident that He is using me in WHATEVER way He deems appropriate—without doubt and insecurity sneaking in and toying with me just because I don’t have a long subscription list!

But the enemy is a real pro at knowing how to attack us! He has snuck in to my little world and filled my head with all sorts of lies: Lies like:

  • “You’re not making any kind of difference here!”
  • “Nobody reads this stuff!”
  • “People aren’t interested in spiritual things any more!”,
  • “If you were actually DOING something for the God’s Kingdom, as you claim, shouldn’t it be OBVIOUS by now?!!”

Yep! This past year, Satan has been busy sowing discontentment, discouragement and even envy into my spirit because I feel I’ve been faithful and yet I’ve not experienced any sort of worldly “success”. The enemy has used these unchecked emotions to taunt me— to the point where I’ve found myself wanting to give up! Have you ever found yourself “there”???

That’s pretty sneaky!

But friends—during this difficult season, the Father has blessed me with a small but powerful inner circle of trusted believers. Occasionally, He prompts them to call or text me with scripture and life giving words of encouragement. This has been like … receiving a cup of cool water in the middle of the desert!!! The words are always just in time…and have been just enough to keep my tank from running empty. If you are one of those dear souls, thank you for being open to the Spirit’s prodding and making the time in your busy day to reach out. Please know that you were used to make a difference— and I am so very grateful for you!!

You see, we have to keep reminding one another that this exhausted, defeated, discouraged, rattled, overwhelmed, terrified, disorganized, brain fog we are struggling with is a crafty spiritual attack perpetrated for one purpose—-TAKING US DOWN!!! And that’s why I write with great passion and painful transparency— because it pains me to see so many WORN OUT saints, feeling like they are trudging through quick sand, without recognizing why!

The truth is— whether Almighty YHWH uses us to win over thousands of souls for His Kingdom… or … whether He chooses to use us in our own homes, quietly ministering to the needs of our immediate family— we are HIS. We’ve been created for a purpose; and bought with a price. We need to get okay with Him using us however He wants!

**I** need to get okay with Him using ME however He wants!

I’m going to end with this: What is success?? It’s getting to the throne of the Almighty God and hearing the words “Well done, good and faithful servant!” (Matt 25:23) So my friends— let’s pull ourselves up by the boot strings and strive for that! Any thing else is fluff that will eventually get blown away by the wind!

(Personal Note: ***Dear friends, In the 5 years that I have hosted the BuiltToBeAButterfly website, I have never charged for my material. But there are costs involved in maintaining the site that I can no longer cover without receiving some outside help.

If this website has blessed you at any time in the past several years, please consider making a small donation to help me cover those costs. There’s a PayPal link on the home page that should make that easy. I am also asking you to take a few minutes out of your day to lift me and my family up in your prayers. Those prayers are the “gas in my tank” that keep me going. And when my tank is full, I am better equipped to help fill the tanks of others! Thank you in advance!)

Until Next Time!

 

 

The State of Being Replaceable

Posted on by mrsmonarch

I was putting the finishing touches on an article I was writing, when the door swung open and one of my grown kiddos rushed over to the table where I was sitting. She stood there— hovering— anxiously shifting her weight from foot to foot, the way she’d do when she was little and about to burst to tell me something.

I stopped typing and shifted my eyes to hers. Immediately, she announced that an old episode of the TV series “Wife Swap” was airing that evening. It was the only episode that was really ever of any interest to me– and only then because it featured a family from the small Tennessee town we had raised our family.

Their family and ours were part of the same home-school group. Our children grew up playing together. We attended many of the same functions. The couple, my husband and I shared many of the same parenting strategies; as well as many of the same hopes, dreams, concerns, etc.

My husband set the DVR to record it, and later that week, during a rare moment alone, I decided to take a deep breath and travel back to 2006— the year the episode was filmed.

I caught myself smiling as the episode played out. Nodding in agreement with comments that were being made. I even broke out in laughter a time or two. The kids on my TV screen were all … familiar. The house, and the furnishings, were exactly as I remembered them. My friend, and her husband, responded to the challenges of the show exactly as I would have expected them to— even when so many of their core beliefs and life-style choices were under attack. Everything was — consistent. Everything was— exactly as I remembered, as if it had all been… frozen in time.

What makes that significant? Well…. in the 15 years since the show’s original taping, my friend—-the small town, Christian home-school mom, has passed away. Our children have grown up, moved out and started families of their own. My husband and I got tired of the fickle Tennessee weather; packed up, left the comforts of the quiet little town we shared and moved to the “way south”. Life has continued … and nothing… absolutely NOTHING… has stood still and passed the test of time. EVERY thing has changed.

I was scrolling through Facebook a few months back and stumbled upon the post of a mutual friend. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Well—if that’s true, this particular post was a novel— social media style.

Our friend’s husband had just gotten re-married. I scrolled through the post. There were big smiles, beautiful dresses and pretty flowers. Some of the children attended. Others did not. I’m not judging him. He had experienced 2-1/2 decades of a loving, mutually satisfying marriage with my friend. Married life suits him, and after her death, he had to be terribly, terribly lonely. It’s reasonable to think he would long to share that type of bond with someone else instead of grieving himself to a premature death.

The woman he married is someone I know; someone who had been active in our small town community and our home-school group. She is a woman of good character; gentle and kind. They will compliment one another well, and comfort each other in this new and challenging season of life. I am happy for them. Truly. But….

Yeah. There’s almost always a “but”, isn’t there?? LOL.

Here’s the thing: My friend is gone. There can be no restoration in this life time. Logically, there is no reason for her husband to spend the rest of his days on this earth navigating the dark and painful waters of life alone. But as a wife and mother myself…?? Well, I have to admit that thought of being “replaced”— of life just… continuing forward… is a bit painful. And yet, just within my own circle of friends, I’ve watched this happen several times.

It isn’t just the fact that life “goes on” —- that men tend to remarry and children grow up— that bothers me.    It’s…. ??? It’s the speed in which it happens; and the reality that time is so harsh on the legacy left behind that is difficult for me!

Shouldn’t the dust be allowed to settle? Shouldn’t the memory of a devoted wife and self-sacrificing mother be immune to the ravages of time?! Can’t anything be placed in a time capsule, treasured and preserved exactly as it was in its glory days??

The harsh answer? My nasty, alter-ego quips: “Only in photo albums; home movies; and 15 year old TV series that are archived and only see the light of day every few years!”

But my spirit knows the truth! The more complete answer is… Our loved ones are preserved in the hearts and minds of everyone they ever touched. The child they rocked for hours while she had a fever? Though the child herself can no longer feel the arms of her mother wrapped around her, or smell her perfume, or even remember those moments with clarity, the memory of the love her mother shared with her is etched deep into her DNA.

The husband who has buried his life partner and “moved on”?? Perhaps it wasn’t as “easy” as social media makes it seem. After all, we all realize that what is put on social media is usually a sanitized, unrealistic, bird’s-eye view of reality. It is rare that someone will post snapshots of their tear stained pillow or agonizing struggle with depression. The world simply doesn’t want to see those things! In addition to that, we have become a society who shares what is pleasant—- comfortable— “light-weight”. We have allowed no place for “heaviness” on Social Media.

The cold hard truth is: Some times, disagreements occur that cause rifts which separate loved ones. Occasionally—messy, painful divorces occur. Children grow up. Houses get sold. Death can unexpectedly burst through our life like a wrecking ball; turn our world upside down and change the course of our life forever!!! We can’t stop that…

Yet, even when those kinds of things happen—eventually— there will be new experiences. New friendships will be made. New relationships forged. Homes that will be purchased. Gardens that will be sown and harvested. Little children will leave our homes and make families of their own. Some times, we will get to be a part of those experiences… some times, not. But life… as a cycle… will continue. The sun will rise and set, whether we would prefer it to or not!

But that doesn’t change the fact that NONE of us is truly “replaceable”. We are each the uniquely made children of our Supreme Creator. We each have a purpose… and an impact … on all the lives we touch while we are here. And… our impact often goes forward and continues to touch others long after we are gone. (Grief is proof of that!!)

So, my friend—if today finds you struggling with the heaviness of loss, I want to gently remind you that life is for the LIVING. Those of us who have been “left behind” have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

What that looks like will be different for each of us. For one mother of a child killed by a drunk driver, it was the establishment of M.A.D.D. (Mothers Against Drunk Drivers). For John Walsh, the father of Adam Walsh, the little boy who was kidnapped and murdered in the 1980s, it was a TV series called “America’s Most Wanted”, where he could put his passion to good use locating criminals and putting them behind bars.

Some aching hearts create foundations that offer help to those experiencing situations similar to their own. Others throw themselves into community service. Many of the rest simply hold their memories close to their heart and walk down the isle— into the hope of finding happiness again.

As I sit here pondering it all, I finally realize that it usually isn’t “replacement” that we are striving for. (The wise realize that isn’t possible anyway.) We simply want to feel alive in the way we did before our loss. And some times, moving forward—while holding fast to all the love we have ever known— is the best way to do that.

Until Next Time,

 

 

Today, It Was ME!

Posted on by mrsmonarch

So…You’ve headed in to your local grocery store. You’re in a hurry and you’ve only come to grab a few things. There was no need for a basket. However, “a few things” has turned into two armfuls of things and you and your bumbling necessities are headed towards the finish line, spying out the closest free cashier, growing desperate to unload your items.

You’re 10 feet from the cashier— when— seemingly out of nowhere— an elderly man zooms up to the check out line in his battery powered shopping cart and begins unloading his items.

Talk about blind-sided! He literally just appeared out of NO where. He turns and gives you a polite, innocent smile…. nods his head and bids you a gentle “Good morning”. He has no idea he’s just cut you off; that your hands are full OR that you’re obviously in a hurry.

You’re a bit tiffed… but you take a deep breath and regain your composure. After all, he’s old; and frail; and he’s having a hard time with the simplest tasks of just being mobile. You remind yourself that it’s not his fault you’re in a hurry anyway.

So… you stand there, juggling a gallon of milk, a loaf of bread, the toilet paper your husband reminded you to get as you rushed out the door and a package of fresh chicken you needed for tonight’s dinner (that is most certainly oozing e-coli from its bloody packaging.) You stand there— and do your best to offer him a pleasant smile. After all, it’s not like you’re an ogre or anything!

The toddly old man reaches deep into the side pocket of his brown polyester pants and slowly pulls out a handful of dollar bills. One by one, he pulls them from the stack, counting slowly as he stretches to reach the waiting cashier.

“Five. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.” He places the bills on the conveyor belt in front of him, and begins the painful process of reaching back in to his pants pocket for the change that will complete his purchase. She smiles and looks up at me. I look back at her and return the smile.

The teenage boy who has been bagging the man’s items is standing at the end of the check out counter, shifting his weight from side to side, holding two bags of groceries. The old man pulls his hand from his pants pocket a second time.

“Twenty-five, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two….. OPPS!!!” He drops a coin, and a dozen customers watch helplessly as a run away penny rolls across the floor and comes to rest under a shopping cart 15 feet away. The teenage bagger never takes his eyes off the penny. He watches it roll, spin, fall over and flop around a few seconds but makes no attempt to intervene. If I didn’t know better, I’d have guessed his feet were nailed to the floor.

(In hindsight tho… I realize that what I was watching was the physical expression of the “generation gap”. To the teen-aged bagger, it was “just a penny!” There was no sense in stressing over a worthless penny!)

The store manager sees what’s happened and makes a bee-line towards the shopping cart, to retrieve the run-away penny. After all… he is older and has the experience to recognize that none of us are going ANY where until that penny is captured! LOL.

That’s happened to you—right?? (Oh my gosh—PLEASE tell me it’s happened to you!! I don’t want to be the only “ogre” in the making out here in cyberspace!) LOL.

In truth? You don’t have to admit it. It happens. To me. To others. (Probably to you too, even if you’d prefer to not admit it.) I know because I’ve watched it many, many times. Usually, I’m not on the receiving end. I’m the one who is 20 feet back, observing quietly.

Typically, the “offended” party sighs that frustrated sigh of resolution; they realize they are not going anywhere any time soon. The realization forces them to maintain their composure and they put on a slim disguise of a smile. But— (and this is a BIG “but”) —they shift their eyes from person to person, eagerly looking for “validation” in the eyes of someone— ANY one— nearby.

There I am. We lock eyes. I smile. Not that sincere, genuine smile that you give when you are actually happy about something. But that polite, “I get it” kind of smile you give when you wish to grant someone the validation they’re looking for while still maintaining a pretense of politeness that is required in civilized society.

Oh it’s nasty! Yes indeed! The worst side of humanity—hidden under the disguise of a warm (but insincere) smile. We’ve all been guilty of it at one time or another. But somehow, it had always seemed…. I don’t know… understandable. Justifiable even!

Well… today? Today, I was the “old” one who was fumbling around; frantically trying to fumble my way through a process that might have been ridiculously simple for me —30 years ago. But the problem was— it wasn’t 30 years ago! It was in the here and NOW. In real time; as a crowd of younger folks stood around and watched, uncertain of what I needed or how to best help.

I shook. Fumbled. Stuttered. And if that wasn’t bad enough?? I am not so far “gone” mentally that I was oblivious to the environmental tension around me. THAT probably would have made it easier. No. I was way out of my element; floundering around like a lost puppy dropped off on a busy road. And I knew it. They all knew it, too. There was the same smile. The same moment where I could sense eyes staring through me, searching for validation of their frustration from others in the group.

And … for the first time in a very long while… I was on the outside looking in. The circus had come to town and I found myself the sole performer. I was way out of my league and ever further outside of my comfort zone. I wasn’t making people laugh on purpose. It was more like I was the clown in one of those bull rings at the rodeo, running around frantically, just trying to stay alive. The only kind, responsible thing to do was to toss me out of the ring.

The “toss” was intended to be merciful and gracious. But my temperament doesn’t lend itself to gracefulness. LOL. I flew out of the ring like I’d been shot out of a circus cannon! Imagine for a moment— middle-aged me— in slow motion— flying through the air— eyes wide open from shock, arms and legs flaying around, dressed only in my clown suit, big red nose and Bozo hair!

Just so you get it— Being spread out like that allows you to hit the ground fully—- so that you make that giant POOF of dust rise into the air when you land. It’s the very foundation of slap-stick comedy. Except … this wasn’t Hollywood. This was a real day… in a real life. My life.

In the end? I escaped… “and nobody died.” (That has become a kind of catch phrase I use a lot in this season of life. It helps me keep the ups and downs of middle aged life in perspective. LOL.) If “nobody died”, then all the pieces of the situation will eventually work themselves out—no matter how scattered and broken or painful they might appear at the moment.

The catch phrase is true. And it literally took me DECADES to figure that out, so I share it freely and often now, like a shiny metal I’ve earned in the contest of life. It was hard earned … and is pretty solid counsel, if I have to say so myself. I hope it helps you prioritize the junk that takes up space in your head, too! (The earlier you learn to classify events with that perspective, the less “dust clouds” you will form when life “shoots you from a cannon”! haha)

I tried something new and scary. It bombed— in a most embarrassing, public way. It STINKS! But, Life is like that sometimes. At least now I know that being a “circus clown” isn’t for me! LOL. I can now safely mark that experience off my lengthy Bucket List!! hahaha.

I will spend a little time brushing the dust off, smoothing my hair down, tending my “boo-boos” and recapturing my courage. It stinks. And I am disappointed that it didn’t work out. I will allow myself a little time to catch my breath. But— I won’t let it scare me to the point of not trying new things!

I mean—seriously! Even as old as I am, there are still dozens upon DOZENS of new things to try. And something wonderful always tends to come at the end of our comfort zone! Anyway— this week finds me “back at the drawing board”.

I’m not sure what tomorrow holds, but— I will promise you this: If it happens to include a toddly old man who is fumbling around to find pennies in his pocket… I’m going to give him the genuine grace and kindness his age has earned him. I will remember what it feels like to be out of my element; fumbling my way through something others find a breeze. There will be no facade. No patronizing false kindness. I have no business being in that big a hurry anyway.

I will keep this experience tucked away and pull it out whenever I need a refresher. It was “that toddly old man” last week— but today, it was ME. “Me” makes it personal. And personal lessons are always the ones that make the most lasting impact. Don’t you think?!

Until Next Time,

 

 

 

Healing Tears

Posted on by mrsmonarch

She didn’t WANT to cry…. but her heart was broken.

She took a long, slow breath and tried to shove the pain into the deep recesses of her soul where it would be hidden from the world… but the sobs broke through and the tears came in spite of her best efforts.

She was angry with herself. How could she be so…Weak???!

But my friends, she wasn’t WEAK— for weakness is a CHARACTER flaw! And this young woman had tremendous character!

No— she was anything but weak! She was…. Vulnerable… and THAT is an entirely different thing.

You see, “Vulnerability” is a temporary season that we ALL have to occasionally walk through. It’s a “momentary, light affliction”; a season where we withdraw from the battle for a short time, lick our wounds… and give ourselves a chance to heal.

Why is it that tears are considered “weakness” and stoicism is considered “strength”?? I’m tempted to pass the buck—shake my head and declare that I don’t know. But that would be a lie!! I do know.

Our society considers tears a weakness because this world is a fallen, broken mess! What is wrong is now being called right. And what is actually right is being labelled as wrong. But truth is truth— even when it’s not appreciated, readily accepted or followed.

And the truth is—- tears are HEALING. They are a release valve for the stress, anxiety, sadness and grief that build up in ALL of us. They truly cleanse our weary soul. And I think that is why this miserable, broken world discourages us from crying. You see, the enemy doesn’t WANT us to rest and cleanse ourselves. And he darn sure doesn’t want us to HEAL!

So how does the enemy stop a body function that is designed to be our natural, built-in, personal-defense system? Ah— he twists it and calls it “weakness”!! That’s how! He whispers doubts, insecurities and fear into our ears and leaves the rest to us! Then WE run with it. (We humans are SO good at that!)

Convinced that crying is for the weak, we scramble to find any way possible to numb ourselves and prevent the tears from escaping—-EVEN IF WE MAKE OURSELVES SICK IN THE PROCESS! It’s actually a Brilliant strategy!

At this point, you might be rolling your eyes and saying, “Ugh! I HATE to cry!” Followed by a curious, “Hmmm. Could she be right? Are tears actually healing??”

Indeed they are!

Most of us don’t realize that the human body makes three different types of tears, and they are each unique. Let’s take a quick look.

First, there are “Basal tears”. These keep our eyes lubricated and protect them from infection. Next, are “Reflex tears”. They are the result of a physical catalyst, like exposure to freshly cut onions. They clean out dust, dirt and other contaminants that get into our eyes. And last–but not least— are EMOTIONAL tears. These are the most interesting of all! And since they are the ones society frowns heavily on, they are the ones we need to talk about today.

Many years back, Dr William Frey, a biochemist from the Ramsey Medical Center in Minneapolis, MN discovered that “reflex tears” are about 98% water. They effectively clean contaminates from our eyes. But his study also showed that EMOTIONAL tears, like those we shed while watching a heart-wrenching movie, are made from an entirely different composition! And they have now been proven to have numerous critical functions!

During his 20+ years of research, Dr. Frey was able to scientifically prove that emotional tears help us shed toxic biological byproducts that build up during times of stress in our life! Plus, it is only our emotional tears which stimulate the production of endorphins, our body’s natural pain killer and “feel-good” hormones! These hormones show up just when we need them the most! Is that not the coolest??!

(As a side note: Scientists claim that human beings are the only creatures on the planet who cry for emotional reasons. But I watched a documentary on elephants where a mother elephant helplessly watched as her baby took its last breaths… and she moaned in a way that broke my heart!!! So…. I’m not convinced that is true— but I don’t want to get off topic here.)

INSERT BIG, DEEP SIGH HERE.

At this point, I’ve typed—and deleted— several lengthy paragraphs about the production and release of hormones like ACTH and cortisol during times of stress. (They were pathetically boring and the only people who would have been compelled to read them would be the nurses on my mailing list, and they already know all this stuff! *smile*)

So—let’s just be content to say “Stress does horrible, no-good, ugly things to our mind, body and spirit” and that grandma’s advice to “Go have yourself a good cry! You’ll feel SO much better!” has now been scientifically proven to be true!

If you’re interested in looking into it further, I’d suggest you google “tears” and do some research on all the many benefits of having a good cry! Then maybe… carve out a couple of hours alone. Grab yourself a box of tissue. Put on that sappy chick flick and let the tears come.

Admittedly, it’s never EASY to let our guard down and allow the tears to flow— but it just might be the answer to the stress relief that we’ve all been overlooking. And frankly? I suspect there is healing on the other side of that river of tears!

Until Next Time, 

 

The Storms of Life

Posted on by mrsmonarch

 

Meet the Zebra Long-Wing Butterfly. Isn’t that just the perfect name??!

I took this picture myself— in my garden last summer.  She’s beautiful, isn’t she??!  She’s pretty unique, too—At least in my area of the country.

You see, this specimen lives in Central and South America. They don’t even belong in my neck of the woods. So how’d she get here?? Ah…. Grab a cup of tea and let me tell you a story…

There was a storm brewing. Not an average, every day sort of storm. But a full fledged hurricane… and it was heading straight for us! The wind was howling. The enormous trees in our yard were swaying to and fro. Then, the heavens opened up and a stinging cold, blinding rain began pounding the dusty earth. The ground couldn’t drink it fast enough, so the standing water began to rise. Flash flood warnings began blaring out on the radio.  As the water rose, we became increasingly concerned that it might ruin all the work we’d done remodeling our new place. 

It was our first hurricane in our new surroundings, and honestly… it had us looking at one another with that “Oh my word!! What have we DONE???!” sort of face. You know—-the one that you only let those closest to you see you make.  In truth, we were pretty freaked out.

Over the course of the next few hours, we huddled up together as the wind howled and the giant trees creaked. We prayed. We peaked out the window, wondering how much longer it would all last and whether or not our little cottage would prove to be stronger than the storm.

At some point, exhaustion set in and I fell asleep. I awoke the next morning to crystal blue skies hosting white, puffy clouds. I opened the front door and cautiously stepped out on to the porch. The air was clean and refreshing. I wandered through the yard assessing the damage. It was littered with limbs and branches. But remarkably? Our house sustained no damage. Relief flooded my soul!

Out of the corner of my eye, something caught my attention and I turned towards my butterfly garden. To my amazement, there was a flurry of activity. Dozens upon dozens of unusual black and yellow butterflies were hovering over the plants there! I grabbed my phone and rushed closer, hoping to capture their beauty. 

I was stunned by how uniquely beautiful they were. And perhaps a bit surprised that I had no idea what kind they were. The storm had brought more than brutal winds and fallen trees. It had apparently also brought a species of butterfly that wasn’t even native to these parts.

I stood— mesmerized— as I tried to soak in all their features. Amazingly fragile… yet powerfully resilient, they were fluttering around as though they didn’t have a care in the world! 

And you know what?? They didn’t!!

Even when the winds of change blew them to a new place they hadn’t wanted to go… their needs were provided for.  And? They blessed ME in the process! That’s right! In the midst of unsettling events— even in the aftermath of a violent storm— I was able to watch the clouds part; the skies clear; the roaring wind become a gentle breeze and… a kaleidoscope of exotic butterflies gliding around amongst the lantana.

Life is filled with such contradiction. My soul and my spirit often play tug-o’-war with one another, trying to incite me to fear. My mind often tries to fill my head with scary scenarios that I can neither control or change. And, honestly? There is —-more often than not— some sort of very real and scary “storm” brewing on the horizons of our lives. We can’t always avoid the storms. We can’t always quieten them or even contain the damage they bring. But… (and this is a very big but!) we CAN be confident that the storms in our life clear the way for new beginnings.

Yes, the storms might bring dark clouds and blinding rain. They may blow us around; Rattle us to our core. But in time, they will give way to clear skies and sunshine again.  And on the other side of the storm… we just might find that they have also brought us new opportunity… new people… and new blessings.

Until Next Time,

 

 

A Package of Discontent

Posted on by mrsmonarch

The other day, a package arrived. It was one of those auto shipment things that I had forgotten to cancel. My curiosity got the best of me though, and instead of immediately rejecting it and sending it back for a full refund, I decided to open it and take a look.

It was from one of those clothing companies that pick things out for you based on a lengthy style survey you take. I find it odd that someone I’ve never met can send me things through the mail— and capture my style so accurately, based solely on a couple of dozen questions. But they did.

It didn’t matter though. I mean… geeze. It’s 2020. I don’t have the extra money to spend on luxury items like fancy clothes right now. And… even if I did… where exactly would I wear them?? Nobody needs a new outfit to check their mail box, and that’s about as far as 2020 allowed any of us to go. <Insert a BIG eye roll here>

But something happened as I stared at that box. I can’t really say with certainty what exactly. But before I knew it, I had opened it. Inside, were five neatly folded pieces of clothing, each carefully wrapped in tissue paper, held together by a shiny gold-leaf sticker. I carefully unpacked each piece and laid it out on the bed in front of me. I noticed my pulse quickened a bit. (Looking back, that probably should have been the first clue that opening that box was a mistake. But I ignored it.)

As I unfolded the first blouse, I was taken back by how soft the fabric was. (I’m a very tactile person so how something “feels” against my skin is a really big deal to me.) I decided to try it on. You know… It was already right there, in front of me. What was it going to hurt?

“Of course, I’m sending it back! I just wanna LOOK at it first!” (And other lies we tell our self.)

The blouse slid down over me and caressed my shoulders. Oooooh how delightful the fabric felt against my skin! The sleeves were loose and flouncy. I ran my right hand against the left sleeve. The fabric felt soooooo nice!

One by one, I found myself opening up the seal on the tissue paper which encased the other four pieces. One by one, I found myself longing to try them on—“just for kicks.” Piece by piece, I found myself staring into the mirror, questioning how the stylist could match my personal tastes so perfectly. They were cute! Perky! Stylish! And, they all felt so darn good against my skin! But mostly… they made me feel… HAPPY. It was going to make sending them all back really—really—hard.

So I didn’t!

Well, that’s not completely true. I DID send four pieces back. But I kept that initial blouse— the one with the flouncy, embroidered sleeves and delightful fabric. It had been “so long” since I had treated myself. It had been “such a tough year!” It was “sooooo CUTE”!! And … “I could count it as a birthday gift to myself.” Yep! There were LOTS of justifications that went in to keeping that silly blouse!

So I did.

That was about six weeks ago, and I’ve worn my “most favorite” blouse every week since I ripped open the package it came in. Funny thing though… When I went to put it on today, it didn’t feel quite as welcoming. Oh, it’s still comfortable… but not quite as “delightful” as I described it when it first arrived. It’s been washed several times now and I guess the “new” has worn off. Today, when I went to put it on, instead of feeling stylish and perky and wrapped in delectable comfort, I felt… discontent, deceived, even… down right silly. That may sound Odd— because— it’s the same shirt!

But then it hit me! The package had arrived on a cold, damp, dreary day. I had felt … yucky. Heavy. Sloppy. And I was longing for a “pick me up”. As I opened the box those clothes were delivered in, I was woo’d by the packaging— by the crisp, folded tissue paper and the fancy gold-leaf seal that held it closed. I was woo’d by the thought of “new” and “shiny”. I was temporarily convinced that I could be “pretty”, “stylish”, and “happy” IF ONLY I POSSESSED WHAT WAS IN THAT BOX!

I know, I know. It sounds pretty ridiculous. But at that moment—it seemed that the contents of that box really could indeed fix all my ills. I allowed my temporary state of mind to tear down the walls of rational thinking and— in a state of weakness, I made a VERY emotional purchase.

Now let me be clear. It’s not “wrong” to buy new clothes. It’s not inherently “wrong” to want pretty things or even to treat ourselves to something special every now and then. But when we are using material things to medicate and comfort our self… Well, that’s when we have to take a few steps back and re-evaluate things.

In truth, I knew all along that a new outfit wasn’t going to “fix” all the things I hated about 2020. I am old enough to know that tangible things can’t really “buy” happiness. But I was in such a state that I didn’t really care about “buying” happiness. I was willing to … RENT it for a little while. (smile) And I guess in some small way, I succeeded in doing that.

But as I looked at that blouse today, all I could feel was disappointment. Well… that and frustration with myself! I mean, I’m really too old to fall for marketing tricks! Right??! Well, apparently not. Apparently, we never really get “too old” for temptation to sneak in and tap us on the shoulder. Apparently, we never got “too old” to fall victim to our emotional state of being. In fact, we never get to a place where we can let our guard down because our frail, fallen, human state is always waiting for an opportunity to rear its ugly head.

For me, it was a stupid blouse. For you? I don’t know. Maybe it’s a remodeling project or a new house. Perhaps it’s “just” new living room furniture, but it could just as easily be that promotion you’re hoping for, or maybe a different job all together. It could even be the hope of finding that “special someone”. We each stumble for different things.

I wish I could say that now I’m aware of my short coming, I won’t ever fall for into this trap again. But the reality is, there will be more cold, dreary days in my life! There will be seasons when I feel heavy and frumpy; lethargic and discouraged. Why? Because I’m human!

It’s also quite possible that every once in a while, when I am feeling particularly down, a flyer will show up in my mailbox, promising me that I can be thinner, more youthful, more beautiful, less wrinkled, more stylish, more fit, have more abundant energy or be all around “happier”… if only… I had what the flyer was peddling. It’s inevitable. That’s how marketing works!

When that day occurs, my spirit and my soul will most likely start a new game of tug-o-war with each other. My insecurities will sit in the bleachers and scream out all my short comings, while the glossy flyer will attempt to woo me with glitzy promises and the hope of happiness all over again.

I think next time, I will save myself the disappointment and send the package back unopened. And that pesky flyer filled with stumbling blocks and discontentment will wind up in the trash!

Until Next Time,

Writing a Story of Courage in the Face of History

Posted on by mrsmonarch

I really try to bring a snippet of encouragement … a little ray of joy… into the lives of others through the words I share here in my blog. I make an effort to focus on what is “good” and “right” in the world… even when that is a bit of a struggle because of my personal short comings.

There have been many times when this goal has made me the blunt of people’s jokes; a modern day “Mary Poppins” that some believe is completely blind to the ills of this world. It makes me sigh and shake my head. If only they understood. If only they took the time to really look DEEPER… They might SEE more.

I’ll admit— these days DO look heavy and dark. They ARE filled with apathy; hatred and great evil. It would be easy to fall victim to the anxiousness which seems to be rolling in like a thick fog and covering everything in its path. And yet…

As I look back on the annals of history, I am reminded that these times really aren’t any darker than the ones relegated to the pages of history. There have always been times of great battles. There have been years of plagues. There have been grievous famines and economic failures. The only difference? They occurred in a different time… and… they affected SOME ONE ELSE.

Yes. That ouches. But seriously. Go back and read that again. THE ONLY DIFFERENCE IS… THEY AFFECTED SOME ONE ELSE.

We really don’t want to go back through the historical accounts of those before us, do we? We don’t WANT to read about struggles, hardships, disease… invasion… starvation… DEATH. We don’t want to read the accounts of those who have faced grave injustice; of those who have suffered horrific crimes against humanity; or of those who have been martyred for their faith. And we don’t want our children to have to hear “negative” stories, either, do we??!! We want to turn a blind eye to the events of the past.

Even those of us who claim to appreciate history don’t really want to read the events as anything more than “stories”. We certainly don’t want to HUMANIZE them and read them with fervor and emotion, for that is too painful. Too scary. Too dark. Too “negative”.

But what if … what if our take on that is wrong?

Bare with me for a minute. Take a deep breath… And let’s look at this topic from a radically different perspective. Can you muster of the courage to at least glance at this from a different vantage point? Please? I want to share something with you that has been on my heart recently and I believe it may help us see the events that are unfolding in a different way.

Yes, the pages of history are stained with blood. They are filled with horrific stories of mayhem; brutality and great sadness. This is true. But those pages are ALSO filled with acts of great courage; of selflessness; of strength and of overcoming!! The pages of history are filled with stories of those who did not lie down and allow the rushing waters of the coming flood to drown them. No, my friends. They SWAM! They FOUGHT! They CHALLENGED! They PERSEVERED! Through great hardship and much suffering, they learned to show mercy; compassion; dare I say they often learned the deeper meaning of LOVE for their fellow human. And they probably also learned the immeasurable value and beauty of life as well.

It was through great hardship that they learned how to rally around one another and protect their livelihoods. It was living in dark times that taught them to help one another. It was in great strife where they fed one another; where they learned the importance of bearing one another’s burdens. It was in dark and perilous times that their strength of character was forged, much like a lump of coal can only become a diamond while being crushed in the belly of the earth.

The character they grew was purified through trials and much hardship. And yet, without this inner strength, they would have never been able to “endure to the end”. They often stood… alone… in the face of tremendous evil… and mustered the courage to cling tenaciously to their faith … even as they faced certain death.

This wasn’t just big, burly men either! There were women, children… elderly. The faith and courage that were cultivated in dark times were enough to strengthen even the weakest, most frail, most fearful of humans. It was in these perilous times of great uncertainty that even children like Anne Frank went on to become the heroes and heroines of our time.

We really need to let that sink in!

It is ironic, yet tremendously encouraging to me that the very things that we whine about living through are the very things that strengthen and prepare us to “endure to the end”!!

My dear friends, through the pages of history, our forefathers are longing to show us that IF we awaken from our slumber— we, too, have strength!!! We, too, have the ability to stand. To help. To fight. We have POWER—- untapped power— but power none the less!

At some point, we were told that one person can’t make a difference—and we believed it— and we allowed our spirits to grow apathetic and indifferent. We have timidly chosen the easy road … and we have done so because it appears “cheaper”. Less costly. And yet… this choice has bankrupted our very souls!

Today, we are at a cross road. We each stand somewhere in the middle of our life’s journey … torn between fear… and glory! Where we end up depends on the steps we take TODAY.

Realizing that, I’m going to be rummaging through my boxes of books again, looking for biographies of men and women of faith. I’m going to be immersing myself in the presence of those who exemplify the character and strength that I long to have. I will be purposefully choosing to feed my spirit the things which I hope manifest in my life.

Then, I’m going to get back to writing the story of my life. It will be a saga filled with great adventure. Oh, it will have some tears and uncertainty for sure. But thanks to the valiant believers in history who have strengthened me with their testimonies, MOST of its pages are going to be filled with Confidence; Courage; Strength of Character; Purpose.

And FEAR will have no place in it!

Friends, every day, we open the book of our life and turn to a new page in our journey. We have 24 hours to write on it. The words and actions we carve out will become our story. When the sum of our life is over, all that we leave our progeny is our name and the testimony of what we have stood for. That reality should give us the courage to write our stories with great purpose and a faith that can endure to the end.

Yes indeed! If “history repeats itself”… so can the courage of those before us find its way back into our hearts and spirits!

What stories are YOU going to write, my dear friends??

Until Next Time,

 

 

A Less Than Perfect Life

Posted on by mrsmonarch

   

^^THIS  ….. vs  …….THAT^^  Am I willing to be seen as a styrofoam cup versus a cherished, vintage tea cup?? 

My dear friends, 

Please forgive me. I haven’t written in a while. I just couldn’t find the strength to put all the emotion that has been swirling within me into words. My “well” has felt dry, and what little “water” that is in the very bottom has felt stagnant– undrinkable— and not at all capable of offering “life”.

You see, in the midst of all that 2020 has brought us, I have longed to be a bright light— a source of encouragement– perhaps even “joy”. But each time I have tried to write with that end in mind, the words would just not come. Every time I have sat down to encapsulate the feelings, what has come out has felt…. forced. “Fluffy” and “candy-coated”. But most of all…. they have come across as DISINGENUOUS — an inaccurate assessment of what life is really like in my heart and in my home, and I would rather not write at all than to give in to that!

So…. what has changed?? Well, the circumstances have not! I’m still stuck in the same season of 2020 that each of you are— This proverbial “Ground Hog Day” that brings the same seemingly endless array of struggles and frustrations.

I haven’t won the lottery. EVERY speaking engagement since April has been cancelled. Our savings has dwindled. The remodeling on our house is still less than half way completed, but our energy and budget are spent. My (grown) kiddos are still making choices that often make me cringe. The news still makes my soul feel anxious. The separation we’ve all been forced to endure has brought a grief to my heart that feels like iron chains. Yes, 2020 has been a heavy year, for sure…

And in the midst of all of this, I have been taunted by the same question over and over and over again:
“How can I make a real difference in these dark and uncertain times?” For that has truly been my life’s goal.

And my precious friends— Slowly…. oh ever so painfully slowly…the answer has started to come into focus.

But… Because it hasn’t been what I wanted it to be, I’ve tried to ignore it— in hopes that a “better”— more “glamorous” answer might be revealed.

Ah… but our Heavenly Father seldom chooses to work through the glamorous, sparkly, spit-shined versions of our self, does He?! Nope! He does not! Instead, He works through our messy, dirty, uncensored lives— using the raw, nitty-gritty aspects of our day to day struggles to bring His glory into focus. And THAT is where the “hope” and “encouragement” I seek to bring you must come from!

I am realizing that MY well IS dry! I AM depleted! I have absolutely NOTHING to offer ANY of you in and of myself. All my natural, instinctive, maternal nurturing is numb. I am paddling as hard as I can to stay afloat myself, so unlike past seasons of my life… there hasn’t been enough left over to throw out a life raft to others.

My “writer’s block” has been a result of that. All this time, I have been convinced that you guys needed sunshine and butterflies, and because I couldn’t offer you that, I have not written at all!

But the truth is… You have needed my TRANSPARENCY. Each of us need the assurance that we are not alone. That others understand. That others are struggling; enduring; and striving to figure this season of life out, too. We each need the assurance that we are not “less than” simply because we can no longer keep up the facade.

And yet Transparency is such a VULNERABLE state to live in!! It’s emotionally expensive to be vulnerable. It’s kind of like living in a glass house, and I haven’t really wanted to live in such a place. Society throws too many stones to make such an existence pleasant— and we ALL want “pleasant”, don’t we???! (insert faint smile here)

You know, every single aspect of this ministry has been a challenge for me. I am not technically inclined. Learning to secure a domain and build a website was extremely challenging! Convincing my husband that paying to maintain this website would be a worthy and fruitful use of our limited resources wasn’t exactly easy. Even though I am an extrovert by nature, putting myself out here in the public domain was (IS)… both scary and way outside of my comfort zone. And, hitting the “publish” button on this blog is always a challenge, too, because each post brings the possibility of rejection— and none of us like rejection!

But longing to make a difference means putting yourself out there! It means being willing to be HONEST. TRANSPARENT. VULNERABLE. It means being willing to admit that we have a beautiful life— that is filled with cracks and chips and flaws. It is being willing to say “My cup over flows”… even if the contents comes from a styrofoam cup instead the delicate, antique china tea cup we’d prefer!

No my friends—The encouragement that I seek to bring can’t come from a picture perfect life. It must come from a LESS THAN PERFECT LIFE. It must come from the well spring that my Heavenly Father brings and fills me with— one that will accentuate my own personal shortcomings and failures and focus on HIS perfect and unfailing character! The world needs more of HIM and less of ME, and that is what I hope to bring you in the days ahead.

Until Next Time,

 

 

Lessons From A Peace Lily

Posted on by mrsmonarch

Hello my friends!

I’d like to introduce you to Polly—- She’s my peace lily. She is currently living in our guest house, comfortably positioned in front of a 1930’s window, overlooking the porch. She absolutely LOVES it here and her shiny, deep green leaves and new growth are testimony to that.

She’s always been such an “easy keeper”; able to live in low light conditions without much of a fuss. All she required was a cup of water a couple of times a week and a few minutes of my time each month where I would wipe the dust from her luscious leaves and cut away any old, withering growth. On occasion, she would thank me with the most unique white blooms that would jettison out of her foliage.

But last summer, we sold our house and made a radical move. I left her with one of my grown children—-just until we got settled in. I promised I would be back for her then. 

The days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned into a few months. It’s not uncommon for life to happen like that. But for Polly, the time was unbearable. She had not just lost her favorite spot on our bathroom counter… she had lost the steady dependability of someone noticing the “little things” in her behavior. My daughter meant well, but she was taking a full college load of classes and holding down a full time job, so she didn’t have time to notice that Polly’s leaves were drooping and turning yellow.

By the time I settled in and came back for my plants, Polly was almost unrecognizable. Most of her foliage was brown and crusty, and what wasn’t dead was certainly in need of life support. I brought her to the new place and immediately cut away all the dead and dying leaves. There was more cut away than I was able to leave. Then I watered her and watched with deep sadness as every drop was swallowed up by the desperately thirsty soil. I really don’t know how long it had been since she had received a good soaking that had quenched her roots.

I took a step back and looked at her. She kind of looked like a shy six year old who had given herself a hair cut. It was bad. I mean…. really, really, really bad. She looked pitiful. Almost un-salvageable. I really wasn’t completely sure I could save her. But… I was certainly willing to try.

I found her a special place, on a tiny dresser, parked between two stately Queen Anne chairs in the living room of our guest house. She had a window view that overlooked the porch and back yard. I watched her intently, and at the first indication of her leaves drooping, I would water her generously. I even went so far as to take the strands of hair from my hair brush and gently tuck them in to the soil around her roots. (This might sound gross but it adds nutrients to the soil.) I rotated her pot occasionally so that each of her leaves received the benefit of sunlight.

I waited. And waited. And…. I waited some more. You see, trauma care is like that. It requires “patient enduring”. It requires an understanding of what she needs to be healthy. In Polly’s case, it was just frequent and adequate watering, and a comfy indoor spot where she could get a little bit of sunlight. She just needed me to offer faithful, tender care —even when it appeared that nothing was happening.

It took several months, but Polly has recuperated and is almost back to her old self. I’m confident that it won’t be long before she is once again vibrant enough to send up shooting blooms of gratitude. I’m eagerly— but patiently— awaiting that day.

You know, plants aren’t so different from humans. We need an environment where we can thrive, too. What that environment looks like is going to be a bit different for each of us, but we each need food, water, sunlight. We each need kindness and a little TLC every now and then.

When the balance in our life is “off”, it shows. Our health declines. Our emotional state suffers. Even our most valued relationships can be victimized by how well— or how poorly— we prioritize our time and energy.

If you can see the correlation between yourself and Polly… I want to assure you that Polly is doing well. I also want to encourage you with the reality that you can reach a place where you are healthy and thriving, too! Yes, it takes making some changes. Like in Polly’s case, I had to take the scissors and literally cut away all the dead and dying leaves that were sucking her energy. I had to remove her from an environment where her needs were going unnoticed… and plant her in a place where the things she required for optimal health were offered.

I can’t say what your specific needs are. But I bet you already know what isn’t quite “right”. Like Polly, it might require that you “cut away” some dead weight from your life. If that sentence causes you stress— don’t turn away. Let’s explore a few practical things that you might try.

Maybe your environment is too cluttered? If we’re each honest with ourselves, we probably don’t need MORE space; we most likely just need to purge from the excess we already own. We can usually do a better job of choosing the “best stuff” from all the “good stuff” we surround ourselves with.

I do this by asking myself what I would save if there were a fire. Seriously! If your house were on fire and family and pets were safe, what would be the first things you would try to get out of your home? What ever those things are? Built your decor around them. Be purposeful in your selections. Make your home a place that is filled with things you love; not just a sleeping and eating space that is cluttered with stuff!

Dig out treasured things that make you smile and display them in unique ways. Maybe that means making a shadow box with some of your children’s old toys, shoes or pictures? Maybe it’s using grandma’s quilt as a throw over the couch? Maybe it’s putting cherished photographs under glass on your coffee table. Get creative! But choose things that make your insides happy!

You might need to brighten up your space. It doesn’t cost a lot to clean and paint, yet the results can be SO refreshing! And personally, I believe a few plants always cheer a place up! If you don’t really have a green thumb, you can choose from easy to care for plants that require very little but give an awful lot. New gauze curtains are an easy way to brighten up a room, and throw pillows are a great way to add color and style without breaking the budget.

Maybe your home is in order, but your body is not?! Polly wouldn’t have regained her health with out the proper amounts of light and water—-and neither can we! Get out! Get active. It doesn’t require a gym membership. Start slowly with a walk down the road after dinner. Take your shoes off and let your toes play in the grass. Go ahead and Laugh! But if you take a few minutes to try it, you might just be surprised at how refreshed it makes you feel.

Be purposeful about what goes into your body, too. Make it a point to eat more fruit and veggies and to ditch the junk food. We all know this … we just get busy… and lazy… and try to pretend it doesn’t make that much difference. But it does! Polly would have died if I had substituted wine for water and TV time for sunshine! Please don’t get offended. Just ponder it a bit and see if any of this rings true in your life. If it does… let it motivate you!

Let me leave you with this: Environment matters. We can kid ourselves all we want. We can keep pushing ourselves until we drop. We can keep making excuses. We can keep living in denial. But it’s the truth. If we want to thrive—- we have to take a serious look at our environment and be willing to make some changes. In the end, it has worked for Polly. It is working for ME, and I’m willing to bet that it will work for you, too.

Until Next Time,