Sticks and Stones

A couple of weeks was long enough to hold onto these words.

long thread of stitches

Thursday I told you about my hurting heart.  Let's talk about it some.

There were these words, these words typed out in black and white.  But they felt more like red.  They felt like fire.  And knives.  They burned and they cut deep.

It was like someone lives inside this head of mine, knowing every bad thing I think and feel about myself and they said, "yes, you are right.  you are all of these awful, terrible things. plus a few more.  and no one likes you.  they tolerate you."

I read these words, til there were too many tears to see the words.  And then I put them down.  Those 2.5 pages, I put them down.  And I kept saying, "no. no. no."  Then with shaky hands and sobs and snot, I picked them up to continue reading and I hurt so bad.  Hurt like I've never hurt.

Do we even realize the power of our words to other humans?  Do we even realize?

I sat with those pages all day.  Reading them over and over.  And my friend said, "are you going to frame them?  You have to quit reading them."

I wanted an epidural.  An epidural for my heart.

That night I laid in my bed.  The words next to me, tear-stained, and folded on my night stand.  I wanted them close.  And I don't know why.  I was scared that in the night Josh would take them.  He had told me I needed to burn them.  Get rid of them.  And be done.

Not yet.

So I laid there with my head on his chest, his hand on my head in this protective way that he does.  And I couldn't quit murmuring.  There were these song lyrics that kept coming to me and so I would try to sing them, and then prayer and then verses and more lyrics and tears that just fell.

I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up with those pages, those words beside me and in my head but the amazing thing was that they were not in my heart.

I woke up feeling free.  Bruised and hurt, but free.  I would not own these words.  But more importantly, they would not own me.

Thursday was spent just kind of wandering.  Wandering about my house and my daily tasks and the girls just knew somehow that Mama needed to not be needed.  They took care of themselves, bless their hearts.

And my friends, they took care of me.  Bless your hearts.

Thursday morning Beth Moore tweeted, "When someone is cut to pieces, words of compassion and kindness loop together in a long thread of stitches woven by the caring hand of God."

I had friends send texts and emails.  One friend, one so sweet friend, knocked on my door, handed me Starbucks, hugged me and then left.  There was so much compassion and kindness on Thursday that my heart was overwhelmingly full.  I couldn't believe it.  I really could not believe it.

A kind word would come through a text and I would think how I didn't deserve it.

Grace.

The coffee and the hug?  Seriously, I just don't have words for that act of kindness and compassion.

Grace some more.

We went out of town for this Labor Day weekend and when we got home, in my mailbox, you won't believe this, but five letters.

Five.

Full of love.

And happy.

Instead of reading those 2.5 typed pages of hurt, I'm reading handwritten notes on colorful pages with wonderful handwriting.

Salve.

You have been salve to my wounded heart, friends.  I couldn't do these days without you.  These hard, hurting days, you make them doable.

My word how I love each one of you for being a long thread of stitches, for being Jesus to me these days.

Thank you.  Just, thank you.

bruised but protected

i fell while riding my bike two days ago.

i bloodied my knee.

bruised my wrist and elbow.

but i got back on my bike yesterday.

because you have to get back on.

you can't be afraid.

you cannot live life afraid.

yesterday i was a human punching bag.

assaulted with words.

i've had hurtful words, hateful words hurled at me before.

nothing like what i experienced yesterday.

i've never had my entire body shake the way it did yesterday.

i've never cried more tears.  i've never had my head and eyes hurt that way before from all the crying.

i've never ever hurt more than i hurt yesterday.

but today i'm up.

i'm out of bed and i'm going to live this day.

and love this day.

i won't live my life afraid.

for i have a shield around me.

psalm 3:3

Nose Sting

{You know, when you're about to cry but don't wanna and your eyes well up and your nose burns?}  Yeah.  Nose Sting.

Spice came down the stairs yesterday morning in tears.  When I asked her why she was crying, her response broke my heart.

"I miss *sob* Maugiieee."

Maugie is my mom.

The crying stopped as soon as I asked if she wanted to call her.  Her eyes lit up and she sniffed but smiled the smile only Spice can give.

She and my mom talked for a bit and that was enough to calm my sweet babe.

Later in the day my mom sent a text saying the box I'd sent her had made it.  Inside was a gift I'd left unwrapped. Something I knew she'd love more than anything else she'll open in that box.

A little wooden thing I got from Hobby Lobby that has Snoopy and Charlie Brown on it.  My mom, she loves Peanuts.  As soon as I saw it, I knew I'd have Sugar color it for my mom.

My mom loved it, of course.

I knew that she would.

Her text was full of emotion.

And I steeled myself not to cry.

But that nose sting was there.

In my busying of "stuff to get done before my surgery" I had it in my head that I needed to get our spare room ready for my mom to come stay for Christmas Eve as she has the last coupla years.  I was thinking of ways to make the room special for her.  Thinking about what dishes I was going to make that I'd need to make sure I kept the onions out of.  I was thinking about how I'd be neglected during any conversation because her and Josh talk so much.  And that we needed to bring the rocking chair downstairs so she had a place to rock.  Because my mom, she needs to have a chair that rocks.

And then as quickly as all those thoughts ran through my head I realized something that hurt my heart and made my nose sting again.

She won't be here for Christmas this year.

But yesterday it dawned on me.  It's not just hard on me.  Or just hard on my kids.

It's hard on her, too.


I'm going to miss her something fierce tomorrow night when we're opening up our jammies around the tree with Christmas music playing softly in the background.  Kids exhausted but wild with excitement.

But I know she'll be missing us.

I bet it makes her nose sting just a little too.

Being Normal is Completely Overrated. Having Fun is Not.

One of my favorite things about my husband is that he's always up for anything.

Often it's his idea to put the wild in hair.

Wait. What?

Nevermind.

Last year over Memorial Weekend he took our big speakers (like 70's big) and put them out on our deck to blast the radio on our deck. We (as in my mom, sisters and myself) stood on our picnic table and sang a little Queen at the top of our lungs.

Good times.

Almost three weeks ago my mom and Megan were coming over for the evening to eat (duh) and watch Leap Year (good flick).

It was a beautiful evening. So, Josh decides we'll watch the movie outside on our deck by the fire. He brought out the tv, dvd player and our 70's speakers. Of course it wouldn't be complete without the bench seat from the Chevy pick up or the driver's seat of a Peterbilt.

We roll Redneck.

Or is it White Trash?

Of course we had to wait until it was dark to start the movie, so there was a little bit of singing. And, maybe just a little bit of ridiculousness thrown in there too.

It's what we do best.



I wish I could remember what song they were singing. I just remember them looking for the nearest "microphone."




Since we had seats from two different types of rigs (Chevy and Peterbilt) why not pull out a steering wheel from a couple of other rigs? I mean really, why not?

First we went this way...


And then we went that way...




Then Mom got to drive. For a minute. We couldn't let her drive for too long seein' how she had a beer by her leg.



I took my turn behind the wheel. A different wheel I might add.




Apparently we witnessed a horrific accident.

It was almost time for the movie. But not before a little see no evil/hear no evil...





I'm not entirely sure what that last picture is. I just know my stomach hurt from all the laughter and I was ready to just sit back and watch the movie.

It was one of those nights where I was loving every minute of my life.

Crazy and all.