The Necessity of Dignity

If there was one thing that I am taking from this experience, it is the beauty and necessity of dignity. When I first arrived at the hospital, I was completely helpless. I could not lift my hand to drink water. I could not dress or bathe myself. I could not cover myself with a blanket if I was cold. I was entirely at the whim of my caregivers...and I was fine with it. My body was so badly broken that I found comfort in being cared for. I felt valued. I began to bask in the needed attention that I was being given- until I grew stronger.

As soon as I happened upon the Rehab Ward, I realized that I had been given the green light to try. As I wheeled through the halls and glanced at the state of my neighbors, I soon realized that I was the youngest patient here. I saw the feeble wrinkled bodies of my peers. I saw where the atrophies of life had taken their toll. I realized that I was far from where I believed many of these individuals were- at a place of giving up...maybe even at a place of being ready and willing to die.

If I was to survive at all in an environment like this, I knew I had to set my heart and mind like flint in the direction of health and healing. I intrinsically vowed that everyday that I found myself to be here, I would give 100% until I was ready to go home.

As the days went by, I watched as the tasks that I had to complete went from the status’ of needing assistance, to me being able to complete the tasks with full independence. I passed challenges of eating, grooming, toileting, getting dressed and bathing. I overcame my fear of scalpels and going to the bathroom alone.

As these milestones occurred, I also noticed that I began to be treated differently. I became less of a patient, and more of a counterpart to the staff on the floor. They began to open up to me- sharing stories of their personal lives and hobbies. They shares stories of their dreams and ambitions, families and deepest sorrows. I was entrusted with hearts and was able to take a glimpse into the souls of these caregivers beyond their badges and titles. I felt human again. I felt like a traveller amongst friends.

I recall a time in this very same hospital, many years ago, when these pleasantries would have never been afforded to me. I had MRSA in my blood and found myself to be ostracized in a small wing of the hospital where patients recovered from hysterectomies.

I had recently given birth to my oldest son at 24 weeks gestation, and he was fighting for his life in the NICU. Little did he know that I too was fighting for mine. The strongest medicines the hospital were not working for me. I broke out in a painful rash on my body. I had many fevers, sometimes to 104 degrees and my husband was constantly fighting to advocate for my care.

There was even a time where I would call the nurses for help, and although a cheery voice came on the line, promising assistance, or a meal, no one would ever come. I was in that place for a month. I felt like a prisoner in this very hospital. I remember telling God that I never wanted to come back. I had been completely stripped of my dignity and did not get it back until I was well again.

Fast forward to the present.  The differences between then and now are like those of the night and day, but something happened last night that brought me back to that desperate place.

It was late in the evening, and I was hungry. I recalled how the nurses told me that since I was independent, I was able to check myself off of the floor and go get food, coffee or go shopping within the facility if I desired to. I was closer to going home, so i thought an independent outing would be a wonderful opportunity for me to prepare for “life on the outside.”

I checked myself out, and kindly declined a nurse to escort me. I would be fine. I rolled down the halls and could feel the chill of the night on my skin and in my heart. I was happy to be able to have a nice meal...but I was missing home.

I waited for 10 minutes in line and mentally chose what I would be ordering. Finally it was my turn to order. The woman behind the counter looked down at me and smiled. As her smile faded, she said these words, “Oh, I’m sorry. We don’t serve patients here.”

It was a simple phrase, but I was instantly crushed. In all my striving for independence, and the accolades of achievement, I couldn’t even order a sandwich for dinner. I figured it was because of dietary restrictions of patients there, but I couldn’t stop the tears.

I wheeled down the hall, hiding my face and tried the find the nearest bathroom. I spotted one, but the door was too heavy. Handicap accessible my butt! I rammed my wheelchair into the opening of the door until I could pass through. Immediately, there was another obstacle. I finally cleared it and retreated into the largest stall I could find.

I closed the door and just balled. I could feel my shoulders heaving from the deep sorrow that I felt in my heart. I yelled at the ceiling and told God how unfair this was. I told Him how frustrated I was. It was then that I decided that I wanted to go home. This was how I felt in that lonely ward so many years ago. Helpless and defeated. Broken and alone. I slammed my fist at the wall in anger and then I stopped... I suddenly realized that this time, something was different.

I didn’t want to put myself into an internal prison. I had worked so hard, why stop now? I said aloud “I refuse to partner with the lie of rejection. I am not rejected. This is just the policy of the hospital.” I immediately began to feel better. Why? Because I changed my mind. I changed the course of where the night could go. I had the opportunity to choose if I was going to cry myself to sleep that night or if I was to overcome.  It was time to overcome.

I left the stall behind and wheeled myself to the door. A stranger on the other side opened it up and smiled at me, saving me from the drudgery of the task. I nodded and went back to my floor feeling a little lighter.

After checking in with my nurse, I came back to my room. Others soon found out what had happened and offered to go and buy a sandwich for me. I thanked them for their regard, but was more than ready to turn in for the night. Their kindness reminded me that I was once again among friends.

What a tough lesson to learn when you face difficult situations! It’s amazing how painful or unexpected experiences can trigger feelings of the past. It was up to me to determine what I was going to do with them. That simple experience is a part of me overcoming my past and the challenges of the present. It was a part of me becoming stronger.

Today I choose to delight in the dignity that has been so graciously given to me. I will remember who I am and not shrink back to a place of weakness and defeat. If you ever find yourself where I was last night, I encourage you to do the same. Embrace bravery and bless everyone you meet with the gift of dignity.

Love,

-Mel

The Value of Heaven

I've been feeling the weight of loss lately. So many painful tragedies occur. So many lives are cut short. It seems to hurt worse when life is snatched away from the young. 

How can a heart cope? How do you reconcile the loss that you feel in your heart to the continuation of everyday activities when life must go on? Such a question. 

I recall when I was in the thick of facing my own losses. The only thing that would give me some sort of comfort was the reality that heaven had become a lot more valuable. I know it seems simple, but think about it. Many spout sonnets concerning the afterlife, cherubs and streets of gold. I happen to truly believe there is such a place as this paradise- although I don't know what it will look like. Because God reigns there, I know it has got to be good, as He indeed is. Because of His presence there and the presence of my loved ones, this "heaven" is valuable to me. I truly believe I will see them when I pass away. Although the pain of the waiting is tangible, joy comes in the morning. 

In the realization of the value of heaven, I rest in the knowledge that safety and security do not need to be sought down here. Because of His great love, there is no fear in death. I can rest in knowing that even if I pass away, things will turn out ok. I will be fine. My family will survive because they find a home in a loving Savior who can meet all of their needs. 

This tangibly looks like the overwhelming strength that one feels when plagued with sorrow. This looks like moments of great joy that carry you when you've felt like you have no tears left. This looks like community surrounding you and provision given when financial needs are present. 

In the midst of sorrow, God is Here. He is close to the brokenhearted and crushed in spirit. Because of the value of heaven and the precious gift of my life, I choose to hide myself in the wings of my Savior- the one who carries me and shows me daily, the true value of heaven.

Love,

-Melody

A Change of Perspective

Such a beautiful dance of life we live,

An intricate tapestry we roam. 

In the midst of days plummeting on,

and shadows cast of home. 

Dream with me friend, 

in this moment find ,

the one thing you can give.

A cherished belief 

in life and love,

and inaccurate perspective. 

God has been opening my eyes lately to how limited my perspective has been. I was driving around last week, after dropping my mother off at the airport and stumbled across a park. I've driven by this park a few times and had never taken the time to enjoy its beauty. Today, I would.

 

It was frigid for Las Vegas this particular day, but I decided to seek a place to write beneath the trees. I pulled my sweater close to my face as the cool wind swirled around me. My eyes began to water and I felt like I would find no resting place for myself or for my pen. I walked toward one spot as a young man decided to find his place a few feet away- too close. I turned in the opposite direction to find that the only places left were in the parking lot. Feeling a little saddened by the lack of shelter, I decided to walk in another direction. I almost retreated to the car when I saw something. Geese. Huge, fuzzy, fat, honking, orange beaked geese! I hadn't recalled seeing white geese before, so I went to take a closer look. Further into the park were all kinds of birds. Songbirds, pigeons, seagulls, mallards, larks and horned geese all waddling before me. A frigid landscape suddenly turned into a bustling habitat for birds! 

I looked even further to see something shooting into the sky. I assumed it to be a broken sprinkler. Wrong again. It was the fountain to a lake! A man-made lake equipped with a ramp for boating and a drop off for fishing. This outing was just getting better and better.

As I sat by the water, I felt compelled to get out a pen and paper and begin to compose a line drawing of what I could see. I scribbled a flurry of shrubs and conifers...gazebos, mountains and clouds. I smiled at my drawing and felt compelled to look again. My, had I been wrong! The mountains were in the wrong place. The sidewalk didn't extend as far. I'm pretty sure I had missed a gazebo altogether. Although the rendering was beautiful to me, it was all wrong. This was when God began to speak.

He reminded me that although the drawing was lovely, and that there was much truth in my depiction of the scene, my perspective was limited. My limited perspective prevented me from seeing all of the beauty that could be seen in my surroundings. How many more things in my life was I not "seeing" completely? How many more experiences were I not engaging in fully because I came with expectations that prevented me from seeing the beauty of all that there was? 

In the middle of my "aha" moment, I glanced behind me as more perspective shifts unfolded. A nicely dressed man approached a seemingly transient woman who was fishing on the jetty. I had greeted her earlier, not knowing her story. The man proceeded to join her, crouching next to her poles and inspecting the spoils.  They engaged in intimate conversation. It seemed that they knew each other well. 

After this, I heard a voice. A small group with clipboards approached the couple and asked them how their day was. I thought the group worked for the city or the park system. As they came closer, I saw them ask two women walking their dogs if they were interested in taking a faith-based survey. The women declined- one didn't believe in organized religion. The other said she was "spiritual" but not interested. I think this was the first time I had actually heard someone say those words outside of the television. 

I took a breath as the group came near to where I was resting. I looked a little closer to see two men, a young girl and a teenage boy. As they began to speak, my heart told me the truth- we were family in Christ. I answered their questions and they began to smile. They shared with me how difficult it was to find someone who believed in Jesus- they were war torn. They intended to continue to keep at it until "their bodies gave out." My heart ached for them, but I understood. 

I asked if I could pray with them and they obliged. I prayed for physical strength, divine appointments and great joy. I prayed for the young girl who was also an artist- that God would expand her gift. I prayed for the teenage boy- that God would increase his gifts as he showed diligence in pursuing the heart of God. It was a treasured moment, and I would have missed it all if I hadn't turned around to face another direction. 

Sometimes we live our lives without ever turning around. How much do we miss? How much do we leave untouched or unblessed by our influence? 

Changing perspective for me means leaving my past behind. It means being brave enough to move ahead, even when I can't see what is in front of me. The truth is that I am led by the hand of the One who loves me- a Savior who will never lead me astray.

Today I choose to let Him expand my perspective. To wash away the muck from my eyes painted on by past hurts and failures. To choose new lenses. To see as if for the first time. You can too. Try it. The view is so much better this way:-)

Love you dearly,

-Melody

The Aftermath

Take a little bit of life, throw in some tornadoes, an earthquake for good measure. Shake it up and light it all on fire. That's been life for the past couple of weeks... OK maybe not that dramatic, but things have been pretty intense. The most challenging test was to keep my faith strong and to remember that God is truly who He says He is.

What a crazy thing to hold onto when the lights are turned off, or 3 friends discover they have cancer. It's a tough promise to hold onto when the bank account is negative and you have mouths to feed. I  will never leave my children begging for bread...(Psalm 37:25 paraphrased) the whisper of the promise. I will never leave you or forsake you...(Deuteronomy 31:6) I have to believe it, even when I feel abandoned in my circumstances. Though a mother may forget you, I will never forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands (Isaiah 49:16)...Yes daddy. You see me.

Those truths are what cause me to rise up within myself, close the door on what I can see and believe what He says. Healing WILL come. Life will be found. Cancer will die...all of these curses have been broken for cursed is the one who hangs on a tree (Galatians 3:13). He carried and broke all curses once and for all so that we could be free.

When trauma occurs, one of the tale tale signs for me is forgetfulness and a lack of creativity. When the dust settled, I forgot what I usually feed my kids. Poor things. Their meals have been oatmeal, fruit smoothies, crackers and popcorn for the last week. I don't even know what I've been feeding myself. Thankfully, things are coming back to me now- hence the fact that I am inscribing these words now.

Although my life goes on, I still see from the outside the battles loved ones are facing. All I can do is pray and help where I can. I have moments of great rejoicing when sweet victory is held in our arms.
I've stopped holding my breath and have begun holding on to the promise that God will do what He said He would do and that everything will work out just fine.  This is not only a stance of peace, but one of strength. There is no need to strive in within the arms of promise and steadfast love. You simply dwell, set your heart and mind on Christ-breathed truths and wait...seek, steady yourself and watch as the promises unfold.

If you find yourself in the throes of great testing remember this:

My friends, consider yourselves fortunate when all kinds of trials come your way, for you know that when your faith succeeds in facing such trials, the result is the ability to endure. Make sure that your endurance carries you all the way without failing, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. (James 1:2-4)

So, wind waves be still for you must bow to the promise and command of the King.  Let us all find our place in rest as we wait for complete victories that are already on their way.

Love,

-Mel

SUPERSTRONG.

For as long as I could remember, I thought something was wrong with me. I've been known to binge on food. I've have a huge amount of aggression. I can lift very heavy amounts of weight...I've always been able to. I eat as much as my husband. I don't need a lot of sleep to survive. When I don't feel physically strong, I feel emotionally weak.

 Most of these things are concerns that I have been trying to change for the majority of my life. I wanted to have a "thin" body...but when I did, it didn't look right on me. I "needed" to have a bigger butt- whatever that means. I obviously have my grandfather's genes... on both sides. I'm a strong girl, and I like it. There is little that is dainty about me... unless I'm wearing a dress. I often try to hide the fact that I'm extremely loud and pretty boisterous. I throw my boys around in the air and we growl like wild animals as we crawl across the living room floor. That's what I do.

I used to equate this reality to being more of a "tomboy." Back in the day, there was no other definition. The reality is that you can be extremely strong, yet completely feminine. You can be breathtakingly beautiful and still have some big guns. (In that, I am referring to your arms.) You can be a hard worker, have dirt under your nails, feet that look like you've been climbing trees and still be so very lovely. You can be the complete opposite and still be very lovely. 

I don't know how the idea ever came to my mind that strength was bad. I freaked out one day when my husband and I measured our arms together. Mine was just about an inch smaller than his. I was terrified. In reality, I was just strong. I know if I really tried, I could probably be as physically strong as he is...but I'm sure he'd never let me get that close. He's too competitive.

We had a lovely moment the other night when I was feeling overwhelmed and wanted to run away to the library. As I approached the car, he looked at me with this huge handsome smile and dared me to jump in and join him as he was skipping rope. I almost felt like a kid again. My heart began to race and I found myself letting go and trying. It was the first time in a long time that I had actually tried something new. I'd never jumped rope with my husband like that before. As he twirled the rope, I felt my soul light up. I was connecting to him and to myself. It felt like perfection as we jumped beneath the stars... the kids staring at us from the car wondering what the heck was going on.  I realized then that I needed to stop running from me. I needed to step away from the norm, no matter how many judgments or awkward stares I get. I need to be me.

I happened to stumble across a website today that confirmed that there are so many other women just like me. Looking at the pages, I immediately felt at home in my skin. I felt joyful in my epiphany that I wasn't broken and that God had simply made me strong. Awesome.

Voicing these truths are new to me, so here it is: I am an aggressive, loud, very strong woman who is often messy, loves to paint and sing her heart out before God. I enjoy the burning sensation in my chest after an intense workout and I love to lift heavy weights off of the floor...sometimes to my detriment. I have a tendency to feel I have something to prove. I enjoy needlework, being outdoors and I don't particularly like washing the dishes. I have a tendency to avoid difficult things, drive too fast on city streets, blast my music extremely loud when I am by myself and watch ridiculously cheesy wholesome movies. I have high- sometimes perfectionist personal standards and I often have a really hard time fitting my thighs in my jeans. I love to make the souls of others shine and I can't walk by someone who is in tears without asking them if they are alright.  I have a hard time parting with sentimental papers but I love getting rid of clothes. That's me. That's who I am.

Don't be surprised if I write about joining a boxing gym to train for the next Olympics or enter into a strength competition. It's probably gonna happen this year.

I love the way God made me. I love the way He perfectly knit you together as well. Let's start seeing ourselves as we were truly made to be- Perfectly crafted in the image of a beloved God. Nothing broken. Nothing missing. Nothing to be desired. Just beautiful you.

Have a great weekend.

-Mel

The Anatomy of Love

When you walk into the room, 

Love's heart skips a beat.

He sees your beauty, 

And sweeps you off your feet.

You feel a deep sigh leave your chest,

As worries fade away,

In the embrace of love 

That takes your breath away.

Unadulterated and untainted,

This love is pure.

Birthed in the heart of God, 

Forever yours.

Take heed to this love,

For it will never leave.

Let it overtake your soul.

The only love you need. 

What does love look like? It comes in many forms. In the embrace of a lover. In the precious kiss of a child. In the bending of a loved one who brings fresh water to the lips of those who are parched and thirsty. 

One thing that I know for sure- everyone needs love. I feel we'd die without it. We were meant to be loved- meant to be held in deep regard. Whether this regard is begotten from someone we know cares deeply for us or from the hand of a stranger, we all feel it. 

Warmth floods the soul as something inside whispers "I'm valuable. I'm worth something." I hope you feel this feeling everyday. May your days be painted in dear moments of the purest regard, for you are dearly loved my friend. 

In the winter of your soul, you are loved. When you are deeply broken, you are seen. When you've failed again and again, love promises to be by your side, without judgement because your intrinsic value can never be diluted or removed. Remember this. Write it upon your heart. You are loved. 

This relentless, crazy love is and will always be for you. Love is what you were made for. This is the anatomy of love, and it's as mysterious as an iceberg:-) We've only just tapped the surface. 

Let your heart come alive in this truth today. You. Are. Loved. 

-Mel

A Real Marriage Killer

I want to touch on something important today. Because of it's importance, I'm going to be very candid with you. Here it is: Unchecked emotional baggage is a marriage killer.

What I mean by this is simple. Every one of us has a story. Those stories are made up of very specific experiences. These experiences can be good or bad. If the majority of these experiences are negative, or traumatic, our worldviews tend to mirror that reality. If the majority of these experiences are positive and healthy, our worldviews, in turn reflect that reality as well. 

Far too many experience trauma in childhood, adolescence or even adulthood that leaves undeniable scars on the psyche- scars that cannot be removed without great introspection, counseling, time and healing.  Far too many think that beginning relationships with healthy individuals, a change of environment or elevated social status will alter that reality, but this is not the case. If lives are lived this way- glossing over horrible experiences with "good" things, the results can be devastating. 

Take marriages for example. We finally get to a place in our lives where the trauma has stopped, time has lapsed or we "feel" better. Every now and then we may experience triggers to the past, but we chalk it up to getting over it. It's been ten years since that rape. It shouldn't bother me now...right? No. Wrong. Horribly wrong. That single traumatic event will paint a marriage a horrific shade of gray, (Not the 50 shades that most ladies wish it would...and no I didn't read the book. Don't even get me started on that one.) because there are no rose colored glasses for that kind of trauma. It MUST be healed. It MUST be talked about. A good marriage will not heal it. Time will not erase it. 

The same thing goes for emotional or physical abuse, addiction, incest or other sexual trauma, the loss of a loved one-no matter how seemingly insignificant, those events change our hearts and minds. 

Time for the candid part. Back in college, I was an emotional wreck. Key close familial relationships were so subtly and blatantly toxic that I seriously thought I was losing my mind. I remember having a conversation on the phone in my dorm room with my dad that left me reeling.  Not only was the content of that conversation unhealthy, but it was so influenced by years of trauma, unhealthy views about myself, God, others and life that I literally could not make sense of it. I was analyzing and overanalyzing the conversation. There was no remedy. There was no thinking my way out of it. I had to do something about it. I know this is very general, but let me be specific.

Because of the sexual boundaries that had been crossed by friends, acquaintances, strangers and extended family since the age of 4, I had no idea how to privately employ physical and sexual boundaries with men..or women for that matter. If I was ever in a one on one situation with someone who had sexual intentions with me, I was done for. I didn't know how to fight. I just knew how to reluctantly comply. Can you imagine how dangerous that was for a child? For an adolescent? For a newlywed if left unchecked? It was a very tangible horror for me. I would constantly find myself submitting myself to God. Building walls in relationships to the point that I got over spiritual and cold to good men because I was simply trying to survive...to others I was an open door. Take what you want guys, I have no boundaries and I am a victim.

Because of the unhealthy baggage that I was carrying, I would often attract individuals who would trample on my boundaries. I would go from friendship to friendship, relationship to relationship just looking for someone safe who would honor my body and heart. What I needed was to be healthy enough to do that for myself. 

Fast forward to a few years in while dating my current husband. An amazing man with baggage of his own. I had walls in all the wrong places, still hadn't dealt with that past junk. I'd read some good Christian books, but they only put a bandage on a gaping wound. I was plagued with so much insecurity in a pretty secure relationship that I couldn't rest until I made sure my environments were safe, so matter how unhealthy my methods.  I remember walking downtown with my love on a wonderful date and an attractive woman walks by. Much more attractive than me in my eyes. Immediately I began to shut down and get defensive. 

Here is the toxic conversation going on in my head. 

"Is he comparing me to her right now? I can never grow my hair that long. She is so beautiful. I wish I looked like that. He probably wants to be with her instead of me." All the while, he's smiling in my eyes and holding my hand. I finally blurt out to the oblivious boyfriend "Did you just check her out?!" The dumbfounded boyfriend assures me that he didn't. He is enraptured in his love and regard for me, but all I can see is my broken worldview. Way to put a damper on date night... or a marriage. 

The hard part for me was that I believed behind closed doors, he would choose her. This was because all that was perpetuated against me was behind closed doors. It was a horrifying way to live.

In college, Jon and I were two peas in a pod. Completely in love. Anyone on the outside or inside our close circle of friends and family knew that. What they didn't know was what was going on inside my head.

Jon and I worked together at the YMCA for many years as Youth Development Staff. In any employment situation, you work with all kinds of people. To this day when I think about a situation that I experienced, I feel so sorry for the poor girl that I confronted. A beautiful young woman, super bubbly and thin-pretty much everything I wished I was at the time, worked with us as well. 

My work was administrative while Jon's was more hands on with the kids. She was paired with him in their classroom. I often found myself leaving my desk to "check up" on their classroom. Was everything ok? Did they need any more supplies? AKA Is he starting to fall in love with her?! Really? How damaging and toxic was this way of thinking? Yeah, my exclusive, I love you to death, love note writing, I'll sing Jesus loves me for you at a drop of a hat, let me show the world my queen, 3+ year boyfriend would just kick me to the curb to be with a more beautiful and thin STRANGER. It was completely irrational...but it was so real to me. I was convinced that he would. Why? Because of my unhealthy mind painted by unhealthy conversations by people that I held in a high regard and unhealthy experiences that I lived through. 

It was eating me alive until finally I cornered her in the bathroom one day.  I blurted out "Do you like Jon?" Dumbfounded (I seemed to have that reaction on people because I seemed to be very secure) She was like "What?! Nooo!" She graciously overlooked my huge outburst and we actually became close friends and are still friends today. Thank God that interaction ended well. 

It was undeniable that my brokenness was seeping out of my ears. That time in my dorm room was when I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to get help or I would lose my mind or chase away the love of my life. Mind you, this one emotional category was one of MANY. If sexual stuff and insecurities were this intense, you could imagine how I felt about food, the role of a father, God, my body, racial and socioeconomic issues and countless more. There was no part of me that was left untouched. I was a wreck. So, I leu of keeping my sanity I began to seek out help. 

I went through a string of counselors until I found two that were a perfect fit for me. One was an amazing pastor at my church who laid the foundation of emotional health and loving well. He did Jon and my pre-marital and personal counseling and it was amazing. We were completely different people when we walked down the aisle from where we had been before because of his methods, but that was only the beginning. 

The other counselor an unlikely older, very wise, unattractive, soft spoken and amazingly direct Christian man, counseled me out of his living room. I paid with cash and began to dredge through the mess of my life. By this time I was married. I WAS MARRIED!!! With all of that crap going on inside. It was by the grace of God that I stayed that way. I could have single-handedly sabotaged one of most substantial gifts God had ever given to me. One counselor taught us how to love and how to stay married. The other unearthed the foundations of years of dysfunction and taught me how to rebuild them in the strength of Jesus... Brick by brick. 

Check this out: within my familial circle, 5 out of 7 couples ended up or are currently facing divorce. That's over 74%. 74% of MY personal family. Yes, there were many different circumstances that ended these marriages. Yes, with all of the baggage present, for many it seemed healthier to walk away...but in my heart I truly believe if the issues were dealt with prior to marriage or attacked relentlessly within the marriage, that 74% may have worked out just fine. I'm thankful things have worked out or are getting better for everyone involved in these relationships, but watching my parents and other couples go through it, I would never wish divorce on anyone. 

Now, opening up old baggage is no walk in the park. It looks like hashing out issues such as sexual abuse or rape...how you may still smell the stench of your attackers in your nose and remember very clearly what happened when you try to be intimate with your spouse.  It's talking about how a father abandoned you or how a mother screamed in your face everyday telling you how worthless you were. It entails remembering how you had no pretend you weren't hungry at school because you didn't want anyone to know you were living under a bridge and had no where to lay your head at night. It is speaking about how you may have been locked in a closet, beaten until you were bloody or speaking about years of entangling porn addiction. These issues are real, and time does not make them go away. Marriage to a good person does not make them go away.

I could have been there too-facing divorce. In the bliss of loving and walking beside my husband as the children came, autopilot began to take over. There were still heart-wounds in me that were unaddressed. My husband and I lived around each other. Because of schedules, there was little time to connect, and we were not intentional. We were burned out. The only way I woke up to this reality was through a dream.

In the dream, Jon and I were attending the wedding of a mutual friend. I was supposed to sing for the ceremony and he was my guest.  The event was in a huge barn and it was a beautiful day. I went up on the stage to rehearse and looked around to find him. I loved when Jon cheered me on when I sang and I was missing my man. I finally spotted him. He was dressed in a flowing white  tunic. I watched him as he flung open the double doors of the barn to a courtyard where he spread out his arms and began to dance, spinning and twirling...by himself. He had the biggest smile on his face. He was so happy. All of a sudden, out of nowhere,  a violent tornado ripped through the courtyard and snatched him away. There was nothing left. I just stood there with my mouth and heart gaping, terrified. Then I woke up. I felt like I couldn't breathe.

 My heart was beating out of my chest and I heard a still small voice that said very clearly, "If you don't change the course of your marriage, the results will be devastating." That's all I needed to hear. I frantically scrambled groping in the darkness for my husband. Once I found him, I just lay my head on his chest weeping...just listening to his heartbeat. He was alive and he was with me. 

I can't tell you how real that dream was to me. Needless to say things have changed. Date nights and coffee have been happening. We decided there would be no more kids for us...at least not for a long time. We'd experienced our limits. We decided it was time for my husband to change his profession in the near future. Living life like this was not worth it. It was time to love and grow. Most importantly, no more auto-pilot for us. It was time to be intentional.

Intentionality begets healing my friend. It means changing the way things have always been, no matter how foreign or taboo they may seem. For the sake of everything that you deserve and for everything you are to become please don't let any issues become water under the bridge. Sooner or later those waters rise up so high you may just find yourself drowning. Maybe you are already there like I was. 

The process of healing may feel like you were run over by a train. It may feel like heaviness on your shoulders and a lot of days wondering why in the heck all of this mess is happening to you. It takes painful realizations that you must forgive so that you may be free. It takes facing the difficulty of releasing pain or memories that you may have even found yourself proud to have endured. You don't need another bed buddy. You need healing. You deserve freedom.

It took many years, but my husband and I did the work individually and as a couple to be where we are today. Yes, things can always improve. Yes, issues come up sometimes that need to be addressed- hence my previous post. Life goes on, pain happens...but so does great joy when you pursue health in a marriage. So comes great freedom. You deserve that love.

If any of this resonates with you, sit in that reality for a while. When you are ready, move to change it. The solutions may not always be found "fixing" your spouse. They may just be rooted in healing yourself.  Something to think about: When you are truly healthy, inner turmoil shouldn't be happening. Are you there yet? 

Let's work on emotional health this year. It's time. For yourself. For your future. For your marriage.

Never stop pursuing health. Never stop fighting for love.

Love you,

-Mel

Buy Her Time

Photo Credit: Anthony Green

You see her on the streets.
Adorned in flecks of gold.
Glance into her eyes,
Her story is untold.
How did she come to be,
A woman selling skin?
In it for the money?
Her heart will never win.
She sleeps alone at night,
Her soul is yearning still,
For life to deal her a hand,
That can fit the bill.
She'll change it all one day.
She's worth more than a dime.
If only He would come,
Come along and buy her time.

There is a prostitution ring near my house. You can't miss it. Women walking around barely wearing anything. Lingering customers scouting the streets for the cops. Each precious life screams a different story. When I first witnessed the exchanges of these women, I was a little taken aback. Why so close to my house? Where are the cops? This is unacceptable!

As the weeks went by, my heart began to break. As I would turn the corner to get onto the highway, I would catch a glimpse of their faces. Daughters, mothers, sisters. Beautiful, bruised and searching. Some were confident, while others were hiding in their barely clothed skin. I wanted to help! If there was a way that I could set them free. Show them their worth! Change everything...although some do not want to change. Some think it's normal, but I know the truth. I want to tell them they are worth so much more than what can be found underneath their clothes, or the "favors" they can do. I want to tell them...no scream to them how beautiful they are. How dearly loved they are. How they can dance again. How they can dream again.

This led me to the thought of buying their time. Would there be a safe way that I could buy their time? Tell the cops and set it up. Come in a different car. Lavish them with blessings and take them out to lunch. We'd chat about life. Chat about their kids...talk about their dreams and hear their stories unfold. No judgement. Just love. Is it feasible? If not, I still wouldn't care, because I know of a Savior that will move heaven and earth to show me His great love- no matter how much of a mess I'm in. Everyone deserves this gift.

Now, I can't drive by these precious ones without being in tears. I can't hold it together anymore. My heart is for them, just like God's heart is for them. It's amazing how things change when you get a glimpse of God's heart for someone else. It's life-changing. I wonder what it would be like if I caught a glimpse of God's heart for me. Would I be more intentional? Love better? Try more instead of giving up? Pass less judgement on others? Maybe.

Know this my friend, God is going to use the prostitutes! Jesus loves redeeming the broken. Don't sleep on these beloved ones, because when His love rushes in, it's like a hurricane. I can't wait to see how He makes a beautiful mess of things... and I will be standing on the front lines when He does.

Join me in being intentional about loving well. Ask God to give you His heart for someone you normally wouldn't think about loving this week.

Be fearless!

-Mel

You Know Me

I want it. You probably want it too- to be seen. To be known. Personally and Intimately. Unfortunately, so many times we live out our days letting few people "in" to a place where they can get to know us. So many days we don't spend enough time really getting to know ourselves. 

Oh, to be known! How many times has someone observed your life and simply stated some fact about you that is a part of your likes, character or DNA? I know I have. All I can say when this happens is "Hey! You know me!" I can't tell you how much being known warms my heart. I spent far too many years of my life being misunderstood by those around me. There was a time when I didn't know how to maneuver through being fully myself while keeping my heart open long enough to let others in. That was a lonely and confusing place to be. 

I was sitting in my office this evening, and my heart was heavy. There were innumerable things on my mind. Burdens on my shoulders that I wasn't meant to carry. I was ready to dismiss myself into a closet and unleash my feelings on canvas when my husband began to linger around. He doesn't usually do this, and it was way past his bedtime. His mannerisms offered that I take on his pace. He bought us matching hoodies. He gave me his strawberry shake to try. He got a dry erase marker and urged me to join him in writing down our dreams and goals. He embraced me and just let me take him in. His love talked down my walls and completely disarmed the chaos I was feeling inside. Now I felt free to write, free to rest and free to think. His actions proved that he knew me. He knew just what my heart needed and met me where I was. Amazing. 

How much more does the Father know us? The One who created us with His hands. The One who breathed life into our lungs. The one who ordained our very days before they came to be. Such intentionality. Such great love. This "knowing" trumps all of our fears because we are safe in His arms. This "knowing" gives us a safe place to rest in the chaos of life because in His care we can be confident that every single need we have will be supplied. What great love. Nothing is hidden from His sight. Beautiful. Unconditional love lavished upon us even though He knows the most intimate details of our lives. 

If you feel misunderstood, alone or ignored know that God knows you! He hears every unspoken prayer, adores every facet of who you are and will always choose you. Remember that truth this week. Let His love change everything.

Love,

-Mel

Seasons Change Everything

As soon as the first leaf heralding autumn falls to the ground, you know that change is coming. The hues of the sunset become more vibrant, and days are filled with steaming mugs of happiness, football games and fireside chats. You can hear the crunching of the leaves underneath your feet... and the skies remind you of the signs that winter will soon arrive. You see the signs.

 Hmm... In your life when great change happens, do you see the signs? Are you able to feel the great anticipation of something new breaking over your life? Today, I was in a bible study and had a epiphany. It was sparked by recent events that have brought great change. I feel like my dreams are coming to life. I feel like I am being re-made into the woman that I have always wanted to be. The past me would have cringed within my skin and hidden herself amidst the piles of clothes in the laundry room or meaningless projects around the house. Not the new me. The new me realizes that I can never go back to that place, because there is nothing to go back to. 

Change is here and it is bringing every shade of beautiful joy I could ever imagine... but back to the question at hand- Did I see the signs? Yes I did, but I don't know if I fully believed them. I was in a place of desperation. I was thirsty for change. Here is what happened:

 Months ago, I was in a church service and Shawn Bolz, the Senior Pastor of Expression58 in Los Angeles, began to speak prophetically over me. He spoke of destiny, of promises fulfilled and of great change. The changes that he spoke of were so great, that in my state of chaos, I could not see myself walking out any of the words that were spoken during that particular season of my life. I wanted to do so, so badly, but I just wasn't ready. 

Back to the epiphany. Today I realized this: The thing about prophecy is that there is usually a place that God needs to take you through to get there. That is why such words of promise can mean so much to the human heart. It is because when we get the Word, it is the heralding of healing that is coming! There is great hope spoken to the broken heart in this, because that heart knows it will not stay as it has always been! It will be made new. Prophecy is a promise that we are getting an upgrade! I can't tell you enough how much I've needed one. I've lived sick and un-motivated, full of sorrow, exhausted with a poor outlook on life and an incorrect view of God for many, many years. 

What joy it brings to my heart to know that I will never go back to that place! I couldn't ask for a better gift. You know what, it doesn't end there. With every season that I traverse through, I will be given more strength and wisdom to move forward. The same is true for you! This is such great news for all of us. 

If you been wallowing in "sameness" for many seasons like I had been, know it will not last forever. God loves you too dearly to let you stay the same way. There may be a bit of death that comes with the changing of the seasons.  Old pieces of you that were no good, may fall away to the ground and get crushed underfoot like felled leaves, but know this-In such death, you are given new life. Rejoice in that truth my friend! Let's celebrate seasons of change today. 

Love,

-Mel

 

Letters to God: Part Two

Dear Savior,

Did you know that you are my dream? I want to be consistently like you. I love how when I stray away from the ideals of your heart,  you always go out of your way to show me what really matters. I am overwhelmed when I think about how patient you are with me. I make so many mistakes but your love for me doesn't change. Thank you for loving me enough to encounter my world. Thank you for changing everything. There is no better place I could be than with you. The more I am aware of your presence, the richer I feel. You are my treasure. I am eternally yours.

Love,

Mel

Letters to God: Part One

Hello friends! This post is the beginning of a four part series called "Letters to God."  I often desire to get away and have a little "Jesus time," but there are so many diapers to change, meetings to attend and dishes to wash, that in the busyness of life, quiet time can unfortunately become an afterthought.

For those who have taken the time to connect your heart to heaven, it is easy to find that there is a wellspring of strength in those moments that can set your heart and mind in the best place that it could be to begin your day.

The content of these posts will be simple. Just a letter to God as I drink my tea and the kids are watching Mickey Mouse in the living room. I am attempting to prove to myself that quiet times can be done with kids:-) I just took the time and I was immediately overwhelmed with His presence and love. I am too old to have excuses anymore, and the cost of omitting such moments is too great when I am raising warriors.

I would like to challenge you to do the same. In the midst of your day, take 3-5 minutes to write a honest letter to God- even if you have to do it while hiding in the bathroom:-) Here we go!

 Dear Daddy:

When I put to bed my striving and it's just me and you, I come face to face with my destiny-to be captured by your heart and hidden in the beauty of your grace. Held within your deep regard for me. Oh, how I can so easily miss the most important things in the hustle of life, but with a single moment, your love comes flooding in and I find everything that I need. Everything that I've been hungry for. My worries and issues become insignificant in the beauty of your love. My shortcomings disappear because I'm perfect in your eyes. Oh, if I could just live in the strength of these moments everyday! Just place everything that I carry at your beloved feet, then I would truly fly. Thank you dear Father for showing me that I  have purpose. That my life has meaning and that I am and eternally will be the object of your affection. Thank you for making me come alive and for washing away all that makes me feel guilty, dirty and worthless. You are everything I need. Your heart and character is what I desire to become. You. are. everything. 

I love you dearly,

Mel

 

 

 

Turn the Fire Up

You can always tell what someone is made of when they go through the fire. Some come out stronger. Some find that their resolve was as fragile as the chaff that they've become.

Some of the most painful and most difficult fires we encounter are those involving loved ones. Petty arguments, easy mistakes. They happen all the time. Their wake can easily leave us paralyzed in the decision of what to do next. Do we fall apart or do we fight? Do we run away or do we stay? Do we face tough conversations head on or do we build walls? It all depends on what you're made of. 

Today, the heat got turned up a little bit in my house. I woke up like a zombie- barely got a wink of sleep with a teething seven month old. The hubby wakes up peppy, peaceful and gorgeous. He makes breakfast and is ready to go to church. The kids are at the table. I put the baby in the high chair and  start feeding him in the midst shoving fistfulls of eggs in my mouth. No shower, wearing dirty clothes, no make up. Worn out, and functioning on little brain power. Here comes the heat. 

My husband  makes a comment about how he needs to lose weight- he has a very athletic build and desires to cut his body fat percentage down so his muscles can be more defined. I get that. My mind becomes overwhelmed with ways to respond- mostly centering around the "Are you freakin' serious dude?! You don't need to lose no weight!" Mind you- the brain's not all there yet. How do I respond? Pull up my shirt and motion to my recently stretched mom tummy, roll my eyes and pretend to flip the table over. Now, this is a gesture that my husband and I do often when we think something is ridiculous...but I forgot that the legs of the table need to be tightened. My pretend flip sent my husband's hot tea pouring all over his lap. Now the Fire is on. 

My brain sobers up real quick and I sheepishly cover my mouth with my hands, profusely  apologizing as he storms away to clean up the mess on his clothes. He mumbles something with the word "stupid" under his breath. I sit there with the kids who were watching the whole thing. I look at their stunned faces and say "Mommy didn't mean to do that. I'm so sorry." The oldest one tells me I'm in big trouble and that I need to clean up this mess.  As I rise to right this wrong, the thoughts come flooding in. More desperate than usual. I could tell I was burnt out. They sounded something like this: "I wish I could just run away...to the ocean...by myself...maybe forever. I need a vacation." 

I wipe up the tea and see my kids faces again. In steps the voice of shame. "I'm such a bad example. What the heck was I thinking?" ..."Wait, did he call me stupid? "Doesn't he know my love language is words of affirmation?" My hearts starts tearing apart. I cross the counter and in enters desperation. My eye catches a knife laying still on the laminate. I imagine where it could take me. I could never go there...right? I walk to the laundry room, close the door, and bury my head in the clothes on top a shelf. I let the tears soak the linens. It was time to bring it back to reality. 

I thought about how my husband was feeling. Anger came. We're his precious clothes more important than me? Can't he see how exhausted I am? Does he even care? Softening, I wonder: Have I broken his heart from my mistake? Does he have grace for me? I whispered a prayer to God "Lord, please help me to remedy this. I made a big mess." I was exhausted. I needed the courage to move forward. I hear my husband come out of the bedroom. Clothes changed, calm and beautiful. Carrying peace. In the waiting, you can feel the tension. In my fear of rejection, I quickly started to build walls around my heart. "He can just go to church without me. I'm not ready anyway..." Then I thought "No!" If I stay home, then there is no victory. There is no remedy. There are only walls. I can't have that."

 I thought I was doing nursery, so we agreed on driving separate cars. I felt more separation in my heart. We said our goodbyes, and in the embrace, the fire was over. The walls immediately crumbled to the ground. I said It was truly an accident. He said that he put himself in my shoes. He knew I was exhausted. We apologized for words spoken and deeds done. With a kiss, all was right in the world and I didn't want to leave his side. I later came home to dinner done, flowers on the table and kombucha in the fridge. That's a love worth fighting for. 

James 1:2-4 says:

"Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way."

The fire gave me a glimpse of my heart today. Yes, there are some things exposed that will one day become forgotten chaff. I will conquer them one counseling session with Jesus at a time. Until then, I make the resolution, that through every fire, I choose to be victorious. I will feel the heat. Through every moment of desperation, I must bring it back to the Love of the Father who enables me to stand. You can too. 

Love you,

-Mel

His Heart, Your heart

I've heard people say that the key to finding your calling, is to discover the thing that moves your heart and run with it. I know that there are many roles that we play, and our passions have a tendency to change depending on what season of life we may be in.

With so many things to be passionate about nowadays, it can be easy to lose sight of who we really are in the flurries of social media and hectic schedules. In the search to discover the true depths of one's calling, elusive results may only be found. Personally, I believe we will ultimately discover what we were made for, when we grasp the passion and heart of God.

I was out running errands today and saw something that struck me so deeply, I was overwhelmingly moved to tears. As I turned the corner near a popular highway that led home,  I saw a teenage girl walking with a friend. I first noticed her because she was dressed a little too provocatively for my liking. I began making a "kids these days" judgement in my head, when something stopped me in my tracks. What struck me was the precious cargo she was carrying in a harness across her body. A sweet little baby, that couldn't have been more than a few weeks old was swaying gently as its mama walked across an abandoned lot to the Seven Eleven.

Immediately my heart broke for her. I began to call out to God, declaring angels to protect them. I wondered if they had everything that they needed. Did she need a car-seat? A stroller? Money? Someone to lean on to learn about being a loving mom? I almost jumped out of the car and I realized that she may very well be doing an excellent job at taking care of the baby... that many of my questions were sparked by the judgement that I created upon viewing what she was wearing. I assumed that her heart and life would be more focused on getting the attention of boys than taking care a child. I had no proof of this. I had envisioned the baby crying alone with no one to console her in the corner of a room. I envisioned all of the children around the world that were without arms to hold them tonight. I was doing a bit too much.

My irrational fears may not have been merited at all. I started to wonder: Did anyone ever teach this young girl to dress? How to be a mother? Did she even have a female figure in her life?

It was then that I was reminded of my calling. I was created to mentor girls. Whatever state they come onto my path, I want them to know that they are loved, strong and beautiful. I want them to know that they can achieve anything. That they were not a mistake. That they will make indelible marks on the world. That no matter what they do, or what they have done, they are so very precious and so dearly loved.

I can't believe I had so badly lost touch of this passion-one that previously drove the vocational endeavors of at least six years of my life. The reality of it all broke my heart. It was then that the Holy Spirit began to speak louder into my ears. He told me that it's okay. That there are seasons for everything and this one would soon be coming back around. He reminded my heart that in choosing this path, not every story will have a happy ending. That on this journey, I will be pressed to erase personal boundaries, stay up late many nights and will need to give the precious lives that I encounter over to God on a daily basis.

I am willing to risk it all to love. It's what I was made for. Maybe this purpose was one reason why God gave me all boys- to keep my desire for daughters always alive in my heart.

Even now, I'm thinking about that girl and her baby. How I want to be there if she needs me or not. This is my passion. This is my calling. It is also the heart of God. To Love with everything that I am-even if it's messy. In the end, lives will be changed. Hearts will be healed. Destinies will come into view and passions will be realized.

What is your calling friend? What is the purpose that is inscribed upon your soul? What moves the heart of God? I encourage you to discover the answer to these questions and run with it. Don't waste any more time chasing the wind...for you too, were made for this:-)

Love,

-Mel

Come Alive

What makes you come alive? I mean truly feel alive? Is it the feeling of sand between your toes as the vast and mysterious ocean crashes upon the shore just beyond your reach? Do you feel alive laying on the cool grass in silence as you watch the stars dance in the skies? Does your heart rejoice when you hear the pure joy in the laugher of children as they run from you in an impromptu game of hide and seek? Does your heart skip a beat upon hearing the forlorn melodies of a symphony as the marriage of sweet notes crash upon your soul, moving you to tears? Or is it upon hearing the indescribable and unmistakable voice of God in your dealings that surrounds your heart like a blanket knit with threads of security and peace?

We go far too long without moments like these. As a child, when I would feel overwhelmed I would just run away. I'd run to the forest where no one would find me. I didn't have a cell phone and I didn't care. I would take off my shoes and run off the beaten path. I would chase the songs of birds, dance in the rain, wade into peaceful lakes, climb the tallest trees and find so much peace that I vowed in my heart never to return home again. Those were the moments that I felt truly alive. 

I don't always have the luxuries of significant moments of rest that I once had. Peace is sometimes elusive and equated to sitting alone a little longer in the car to sing along to a favorite song, or stopping to smell the candles at Target letting the fragrances take me away. I constantly crave the ocean, constantly crave more peace, yet I make few attempts to just get away. So few that when I finally do, I'm so numb to life that I have a hard time unwinding enough to enjoy them. 

It's time for us to come alive again. To make moments of peace and joy common practices in our lives.  The frigid winds of winter are on their way and they beckon your heart to remember the seasons. To seek out the changing of the leaves. To become aware of the fleeting seasons of your own life and the ebbs and flows that they bring. It's time to make them count! It's time to give yourself permission to seek joy and to share that joy with others. It's time to unwind your heart and truly forgive those with whom you have been estranged. To forgive yourself. To cultivate true love again. To dance. To dream again. To pick up that paintbrush. To put down excuses. 

I encourage you this week to find what moves you. Focus on that passion at least once this week. Remember who you truly are, or get to know yourself for the first time. Don't be afraid. Come Alive.

Love,

-Melody

A Change of Pace

Let's pretend for a second that life is a rat race...or maybe it's like being on a rowing team. Instead of the Coxswain yelling row in the megaphone, they are yelling "Strive! Strive!..." My goodness, this is how I feel at least 75% of the time. How I want so bad to dwell in the unforced rhythms of grace all day-100% of the time!

I was in the bathroom a few nights ago, trying to figure out my hair. I had this elaborate design planned in my head, but I was subtly racing the clock to have it done before my husband got home. I would begin a row of twisting my hair..."Strive! Strive!" Was all I could hear in my head...leading to epic hair failure. I undid my work. Began another row. "Strive! Strive!" ...epic fail. It looked so bad, I decided to change my hairstyle altogether. 

All the while, I'm thinking about what I'm going to wear at church the next day. Thinking about how I regret unfinished business plans. Thinking about how I still haven't cleaned the kitchen, finished the laundry, painted the boys bedroom, swept the dining room floor, or done my nails. Oh, my poor nails. I haven't given them proper attention in years, partially because of the incessant "Strive! Strive!" chant I've been coasting along to. The weight of it never really affords me the opportunity to get anything worthwhile done.

I remember once, I was spending time in prayer and I felt like God was tugging on my heart to change my pace. To stop striving all of the time. How do you stop when you've been moving at breakneck speeds for most of your life? Doing many things, but few things well? Just getting by and running on empty far too often. Bouncing from one task to another- to complete anything just to have even the slightest feeling of accomplishment. 

 Sometimes our peers can be the greatest teachers. For a while now, I have been noticing the life of my sister in law, Donna. She is a ballroom dance instructor, so she kind of glides when she walks, moves gently and deliberately- even when she endearingly punches my husband, (as his older sister) there is a certain grace to it. :-)

 One thing I love about her is that she is rarely in a rush. She allots more than enough time to get ready in the morning. She actually tastes her food when she eats. She sits at the end of the day with a glass of wine in her hand, lets herself unwind and begins discussing the happenings of her day. In contrast, most days I hop out of bed to the sound of my kids yelling for me to come and get them from the bottom of their bedroom door, maybe take a 5 minute shower and sometimes brush my teeth. I grab the boys, throw breakfast together, break up a fight over toy cars, let the crazy dogs outside, maybe even eat my eggs straight from the pan to fill my stomach before the baby wakes up and starts to cry to be nursed. You know, the life of a mom with young children. 

I was considering that maybe things don't have to be this way. I don't really have to strive and stress in the happenings of my day. Sometimes I get it right. Sometimes, I wake up early. Sit outside by the water and listen to the birds chirping with a steaming cup of tea- do a small devotional and get grounded to begin my day. Days like those are so much better overall because I start the day with intentionality. I want to begin every day this way. I need to. Not only for the sake of not losing my mind, but for the sake of hearing the voice of God.

If I'm moving so fast, I lose the beauty of the stillness that I find Him whispering to me about His great love for me and for my children. I miss Him cheering me on as a mother and wife when I feel like I'm doing a thankless job. I miss God's reminders of love written across the skies as I walk with the boys to the park in the morning. I miss what is far too valuable to ignore. I can't afford to do that anymore. 

Ecclesiastes 3:12-13 says:12 I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. 13 That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. 

So today, I will be intentional. I will taste my food. Even though I have many unfinished tasks to be done-many of which could easily overwhelm my heart with feelings of shame, I choose to reject striving in my dealings. I choose to believe that the goal of my life is far more than just to accomplish things. The goal is to enjoy the journey. To really know the love and heart of God. To really get to know and love myself. Out of these places will flow great beauty that will allow me to bless my world and the people in it. No more striving. Just grace.

 I challenge you to do the same. Be intentional today. Rest. Love well. Find delight in the works of your hands and throw striving out of the window. Bask in the love of Jesus. You can do it! I believe in you. 

Love,

-Mel

Oops, I did it again!

It has definitely been a week of far too many mistakes for me. Most of the mistakes have centered around my bad attitude. This week I found myself painfully regretting my words, screaming obscenities at the bathroom ceiling, not desiring to be around people in general...feeling like everyone is judging me...

The culprit? Well, there has been an issue festering in my mind for the past few months and it has been getting worse. An issue of white carpet. I know it sounds petty, but you'll soon see what I mean. 

One of things that makes me happier than anything, is having a clean floor that my kids can play on. The floors become wrestling mats, movie seats, places for sleepovers and impromptu picnics. A place where my littlest guy, Ethan, will soon learn to crawl... but in our house, there is a problem. 

You see, when we bought this wonderful house back in March, upon viewing it, my nose was immediately struck with the pungent odor of cat urine. Since we moved in, I've found myself on hands and knees scrubbing pockets of feces from previous occupants that I've discovered on the berber, and treating potty accidents that I can't quite seem to get out. It's been a constant battle that I've been losing. 

To add insult to injury, we recently added a new member to our family. His name is Cashew and he's a Chihuahua. Born with the providential "deer" head shape, instead of the usual bubble eyes and unsightly underbite most breeds have, he quickly stole everyone's heart. Everyone but mine...well partially...Why, because he pees and poops everywhere! I'm slowly working on potty training him, but he makes far too many mistakes in the house. 5+ a week! Can you imagine how things are starting to smell in here? Like a freakin' toilet. 

Ok. I digress. Back to the issue of mistakes. The dog has been making mistakes and so have I. Not on the carpet of course...in my attitude. In my character. Unfortunately, bad religion has left an indelible mark on my psyche, and this week, I've subconsciously employed the view that God will not bless me or draw near to me because of my dumb mistakes regarding my attitude. I can't think of a better lie to believe.  Even in my quiet time, as I breathed prayers to my Savior, I found myself subtly believing that I'd been just too bad for Him to answer the ones that were closest to my heart. I was believing lies. To remind me of His great love, guess what He did? Let me tell ya.

On Wednesday I was making dinner and was so angry about how disgusting the floors were- covered in the gamut of dog vomit, poo and urine with a slight smell of cat pee to tie it all together. As I'm trying to get over it, I catch sweet little Cashew eating poop out of a diaper he retrieved from the trash. That's when I HAD it. I stormed out of the kitchen to my prayer closet and just cried to Jesus, about everything- basically had an adult tantrum. This isn't how I planned my home to be! If it isn't orderly, can it at least be sanitary?! I remember specifically telling God that I would love new vinyl floors to fill the house at the cost of $250. I felt better. Got food on the table. Put the kids to bed without incident. Kinda forgot about it.

Last night I finally decided to end my pity party and dominate the white carpets.  I wouldn't be a victim any longer! I would shampoo them everyday if I had to...starting tomorrow. Well, I happened to jump on Craigslist before bed and what did I see? An ad for Vinyl flooring in 5 colors for 25 cents a square foot. There was a minimum of 1000 sq. feet to purchase to get the deal. What does that come out to? $250! Woo hoo! I am so overjoyed at this prayer answered. Seriously guys, believe me when I tell you this truly reminded me of God's love. 

So, no matter how far how bad you feel you've been this week, or how petty you think your prayers are, there is so much love and grace for you. God loves you no matter what and He will make sure you know it, even if you've had a crappy attitude. 

I grabbed samples of the flooring this afternoon. I'm picking up the lot in the morning. Hallelujah! So happy! Rant over. 

Have a great weekend! :-)

-Mel