And miles to go before I sleep..

It's March!  You wouldn't know it from the temperature and what seems like endless flurries around these parts, but the calendar and my basketball Spidey senses tell me it is true.  What is it about February that is such a giant drag?  The shortest month of the year feels like the longest to me.  Maybe it has to do with the post-holiday hangover, maybe it is just the waiting and anticipation for spring.  Of course, it's arbitrary - but I always feel a little better when I can flip that page to March.

Things have been unsettled for us lately.  It puts me in a funk and frankly, I don't like it.  I crave my routine and until I have that firmly under control again, I suspect I will remain cranky and just..off.  A couple more weeks at most, I am assured.  I apologize to anyone who comes into contact with me in the meantime.  I don't mean to be a grumpy old lady, I promise.

We recently passed our THIRD anniversary of leaving New Mexico and embarking on our big adventure to the unknown.  Three years.  Absolutely does not seem like that much time has past and yet, life now is nearly unrecognizable to that period of our existence.  Every single day brings new and positive change and I marvel at how God is working in our family.  But the day that we decided to pack all of our belongings into our old car and travel 2000 miles to a place I had never been, that day we were a disaster.  I will say a functional disaster, if you count breathing and existing as functioning.  How things never completely fell apart before then, I really have no idea.  Somehow, we left.  I remember anxiously wanting to pass state lines, to increase the mileage.  We stopped infrequently, despite the fact that the then 4 year old little man was packed like a sardine in the backseat, wedged in between hastily thrown in clothes and other odds and ends we decided not to leave behind.

Three days later, we ventured across the last state line into Kentucky and I can remember looking out into the snow covered landscape and wondering "what have we done?"  No turning back, no possibilities or bridges still standing behind us, we were here and we were committed.  Looking back now, I'm not positive I ever thought we would be here long, though I don't know what I thought we do as an alternative.  We were broke.  Even more than that, we were broken.  The lesson was learned through that period that running away is rarely an effective fix.  Issues tend to follow close behind and come back with a vengeance.  And they did, but that is only a small part of the story now.  Oh, it was everything back then, absolutely all encompassing.  Isn't it amazing how perspective can change?

In those three years, I almost always get the same response when I tell people where we moved from.  "Why?"  No one understands why we would make such a dramatic move, and to a place like this.  Here's the thing they don't understand - we love it here.  I came with an open mind and that attitude paid off.  I'm not sure this part of the country - Midwest, Upper South, Ohio Valley, whatever you choose to call it - is what you would expect, if you have never had the pleasure of visiting.  Frankly, I'm not sure what I expected.  It's cold in the winter.  It snows.  Sometimes into March, which can grow old quickly.  But when spring comes, oh my.  The flowers sprout, flowers I'd never seen in nature before.  The trees bud and oh, those trees.  I have a near unhealthy love for all of those green trees.  They grow thick and dense and when they are at their fullest, it's like a jungle, unpenetrable.  No, there are no mountains, at least where we live.  What there are in abundance are green rolling hills, beautiful and everywhere.  Spring is mild, the temperatures start cold (we are hoping for the 50's for Opening Day this year, which is April 1st) and don't really warm up until late May.  Summer is hot.  And humid, which is obviously a change for us.  Fall seems like it will never come but when it does, it's almost as magical as spring for me.  Colors changing, temperatures cooling off, football, playoff baseball, it's as prototypical as fall can possibly get.

My love affair with all things Cincinnati Reds is well documented, but as it happens in this story, the baseball experience is one of my favorite things about living here.  We are a small market team with fiercely passionate fans. Think Mikey and I fit right in?  People are all about sports here.  Another part of that is that we are firmly planted in the middle of college basketball heaven.  I can't possibly explain University of Kentucky basketball fans.  Despite the fact that we live 5 miles or less from Cincinnati, our area is definitely Kentucky.  You will know this by the omnipresent blue, wherever and whenever.  This is a fanbase unlike any other and I will admit to having more than one chuckle on their behalf.  I can't help it, it's far too easy.

I realize as I sit down to write out what I have been  ruminating over in my head for the last week that I could really go on and on.  Truly, I could work on the tourism board.  I remember the first time the kids came out, I was so proud and excited to show them as much possible.

One of my favorite spots, Newport (on the KY side) looking over the Ohio River to Cincinnati

I'm not sure they shared my enthusiasm on every little thing, but there was definitely more to do than they were used to.  So who wants to come visit next?  I promise to only show you the fun stuff.

Regardless of where we came from and why we came, I can say with certainty that this move was the best for us.  When I am asked if we will ever move back, the answer isn't no, obviously I have no way of knowing what God has in store for us in the future.  But I can say that we are not actively looking to leave here.  We struggled and fought hard to get to where we are now.  So I may moan and complain about another snowstorm, but then I remind myself of everything that I love, that God has given us in our life here, and I just grab another blanket and relax.  While watching a University of Cincinnati vs University of Louisville game, of course.

A Hazy Shade of Winter

I know we all have those periods of time in life where it feels like it's all we can do to pull ourselves together, throw together simple mono-syllabic responses and trudge through our daily life.  Luckily for most of us, those times are few and far between, but for us girls, this may also be accompanied by a raging desire to fight with someone for no reason or eat an entire tub of mint chocolate chip.

But what about when that feeling persists, becomes a squatter in your life?  I admit, I almost always panic.  The thoughts rush, the anxiety sets in and I'm already planning out how best to prepare the boys for my next foray into breakdown-ville.  We've had a series of challenges around here the last couple of weeks, and my thoughts have gone there.  I've been sleeping too little (on the couch, long story, but not so comfortable), having far too many nightmares and generally just surviving, not a whole lot of living.  I really had not understood how important routine has become to me in the last 9 months or so.  Routine or goal-oriented would hardly be a description most would use for me, and I accept that.  However, faced with routine disruption on an extended level really has me out of whack.

Slowly, I have made things part of my day that were not on the agenda before, so to speak.  Reading in the morning and before bed.  Studying, learning, absorbing.  Writing.  I have a journal by me at all times that I jot  things down in - ideas, quotes, prayers, links.  When I looked at my journal tonight, I realized the last entry was over a week ago.  My crafting, as silly as that sounds.  It calms me.  I developed a love for doing origami last spring, which always gives me and my sister a giggle.  Go fold your paper, you will feel better!  It's time for macrame in the rec room!  Really though, give it a try.  You might be surprised at how calming it can be.  Knitting, always.  My 2 projects have barely progressed this week.  See?  My routine, as small and seemingly inconsistent as it may be, settles me.  It helps me take a step back and refocus.  And at this point, those gorgeous colorwork mittens I have sitting next to me might be ready when it's 90 out and I'm ready for fall.

And then of course...we have this.

God, all of your world and its creations are beautiful, things to be awed over.  Some days the beauty of the winter sky are breathtaking.  Then there are other days where I check the tree branches once or twice to see if maybe, possibly, that might be a bud that I see?  Could it be?  Oh, how I love my green trees.  And is it a ray of sunshine I see poking through?  I am starting to long for spring.  Much as I long to be a new, growing creation.

So for now, I will force myself back into the routine, mentally check myself out of breakdown-ville, watch the first Spring Training game on TV tomorrow (!!) and enjoy the ice storm. :)

Your time is gonna come

I am having a bit of an identity crisis this week.  I don't know if it is too much introspection, too much reflecting or just my over-active brain spinning ceaselessly.  But the reality is that my brain will continue to do so and I will continue to be me and the questions I have still remain.

For so very long, I have defined myself by my past.  That's not unusual, certainly.  My problem lies in the staying in the past, defining myself by the wrongs that were done and the hurts that resulted - either by me to myself or what I perceive was done to me.  I can say that having that mindset for most of my life, coming to this conclusion was painful for me.  Continues to be.  That sounds ridiculous, right?  Sounds like therapy 101 and obviously I have had plenty of that.

It comes down to a simple truth.  I don't feel worthy.  It doesn't matter how much I read, how much I learn, how much I'm told over and over again that my sins are forgiven.  I can't forgive myself.  I try and try and sometimes I feel it, right there on the cusp, that glorious feeling of freedom from the burdens I have carried for so long.  But the doubts still creep in and whisper in my ear, "not you.  you have done too much."  I know that whisper.  Oh how I scream at that whisper, hate it.  That talk has no place in my life, in my soul.  Most days I can banish the whisper and find comfort in knowing that I am worthy.  I literally feel the weight lifting and I take deep, long, cleansing breaths.  I feel the Spirit filling me up until I am almost giddy.

This week I have been burrowing deeper and deeper trying to find respite from the thoughts.  I do not want to be known by my past.  I am so much more than mental illness, divorce, broken relationships, that ONE mom who left her kids behind.  I am more than suicide attempts, nervous breakdowns, addictions and failed careers.  I am Shan who is pulling it together and who can safely leave that past Shan behind...can't I?  Each day I grow and learn and thrive in His love.  I see that I was made for so much more, that I have so much to give - in His glory, for Him.

I know that the struggles are still many, and I know for a fact that I am not alone.  Despite the past, I see the future and it is more beautiful than I could have imagined.  What I long for most right now is to not cheapen the relationship I have found with the Lord with my doubts.  I know He is faithful.  All I can do is trust in that with all of heart and soul.  My past can stay right where it is.  

Look at them yo-yo's, that's the way you do it...you play the guitar on the MTV

A conversation with Mikey today reminded me of something that has been on my mind for the past few months. We were in a setting this morning where the topic of spending time together as a couple was discussed, including hours worked.  Afterwards, he admitted to me that he didn't want to discuss where he worked with the group.  This resonates so strongly with me, I hurt for him.  This is something I have struggled with for years.  Why does a job or a career have to define who you are as a person?  I grew up with this mindset, make sure you get the best education possible so that you can have a fabulous career.  I'm not sure where it even stemmed from, looking back.  But it was there, front and center.  If you have this standard to live up to in your head, isn't the opposite true?  If you don't have a fabulous career, then your life is somehow...less.  I have the education.  I *had* the jobs, I was working on it.  Life happened, I got divorced with 3 kids under the age of 5 to take care of and I had to get a flexible job making as much money as I could.  I went back to serving, it provided for my family.  Once I was in a stable enough place to try to get back on a career path, the jobs just weren't there for me.  That's a tough pill to swallow, but it's reality.  It's a  lot easier to hire and pay a new college graduate than it is to take a chance on a mom in her 30-somethings.

I have a job now that I really love.  A job that is perfect for my life and the restrictions I have with life and family.  Is it a career?  It could be.  But here's the thing - I don't NEED it to be, not anymore.  While I had the career-type jobs, I wasn't happy.  I was making money.  I was working.  I wasn't in the field I always imagined myself to be in, but I had myself convinced this was what was expected of me, so it was what I had to do.  I went in to college very idealistic and very, very naive.  I made poor choices, mostly based on boys. I admit it.  Regardless, the choices were made and the outcome was a hastily put together degree in something I had zero interest in.  Sounds like a recipe for success, eh?  I did attempt to make the dream of going to law school a reality, but I chose a different path.  I refuse to regret this path, as it gave me my children in the end.

So here I am.  Working, to work.  Pride makes me struggle with this, because I do worry about what other people think of me.  Fact is, most of my friends growing up who I still love and adore do have those fabulous careers.  It's only human nature to wonder what if.  That "what do you do for a living?" question is dreaded, because I think that people from my past are secretly shaking their collective heads, wondering "what happened to her?  she used to be so smart."  I've heard it from people that are closest to me!  I've been told I'm underemployed on purpose, and just not trying.  These are hurtful things, but if I didn't have that pride, it shouldn't bother me....right?  So again, I ask, why does a career have to define us?  I would rather be defined as being a good mother, a good wife, a good sister, a good daughter.  Someone who cared about others and felt passionately.  Someone in love with the Lord.  Someone who refused to let what other people may or may not think about me alter how I feel about myself.

Truth is, my priorities have changed so much.  Things that used to matter, goals that I felt I could never reach, those are intrinsically unimportant.  I continue to evolve, to learn and to change how I approach every day and I couldn't scream this loud enough to those I love - it is absolutely freeing.  Giving up that pride holding on, making me feel inferior, it feels like letting go.

What my goals are now are simple - to make myself better.  Better at all those things I mentioned.  And there is no reason at all I can't explore doing the things that I love, because I think they are somehow inappropriate or inferior.  I am writing a novel.  THIS is something I have loved since I was big enough to hold a pencil - writing, books.  I was born to be a writer in some way.  I've also decided to open up an Etsy shop for next winter, that was I can use my knitting obsession for good, and not just a way to fill an OCD need.  ;)  If I decide to do whatever, it's fine.  Because I do not need to be defined by what I do for a living, but who I am for a living.

Used to think that it was so easy...

Well hello there world!  Our not so trusty HP laptop finally took its last breath right around Christmas time.  We were terribly surprised considering it was on its 3rd hard drive and 2nd fan.  Yeah, needless to say, there will be no more HP purchases in this house.  Anywho, I am a firm believer that I can use my handy dandy precious Kindle Fire for everything interwebs related, but blogging and my writing are the two blaring exceptions.  So back to laptop it is, and here I am, in all my 2013 glory.

The beginning of 2013 has been uneventful, which is perfect. I don't make resolutions, I find them to be arbitrary this-is-what-is-expected types of goals that very rarely get accomplished.  Why set myself up for that?  This year I did make a very specific list of goals that I would like to reach, from the mundane (knit a pair of Fair Isle mittens) to the lofty (run a 5K in May and train for the 10K Warrior Run in October).  I would like to think I made a very manageable list, but only time will tell.  :)

More to the point of what I have been working on lately is this - I am striving to live an intentional sort of life.  Go ahead.  Roll your eyes and wonder why I am talking like a self help book.  I haven't completely lost it.  It occurred to me within the last couple of months that I have lived my entire life with a do what you want sort of attitude.  One of my favorite quotes perfectly sums me up - I'll think about that tomorrow.  Guess what peeps? I am not now, nor have I ever been Miss Scarlett.  It's nearly impossible to live life in a zero consequences sort of world.  Do what you want doesn't get you very far before you are scrambling to pick up the pieces the majority of your days.  I am not a genius, by any stretch of the imagination, but I am certainly an expert in poor choices and the inevitable aftermath.

Unfortunately, as I've also learned, most of these choices are not eligible for a redo.  So you live with them, you move on, you try to learn.  Here's where the intentions come in.  I want to make every decision that I make, every word I speak, every path I take mean something.  If I am making a choice that takes us nowhere, why make it?  If my words are not for good, if they are spiteful or just gossip for the sake of gossip, why speak them?  Once I had this in my head (just for the record, the idea is not mine alone.  It's more of a mashup of many well spoken, well written people I respect), it became nearly impossible for me to do otherwise.  That might sound exhausting, and if you don't like the incessant internal dialogue, this is not for you.  I am used to that non-stop chatter, so it doesn't bother me at all.  I actually think....before I act.  What a novel concept!  Not just on big things, but on little things. It's new and very different for me, but most of my life post-last Spring is just that - I am a new person through Him.  What I do in my daily life should reflect that.

I've come to have peace in places in my life that I never thought I would have peace again.  I can't explain what a refreshing feeling this is.  Imagine spending years and years waking up and having your first conscious thought be full of dread.  Now I wake up before dawn (not by choice, some things will never change!) and I look forward to what I can learn, what I can accomplish.  Which may or may not include that 10K and the bet I stand to collect on.

Next up:  what I have learned about forgiveness and how I woke up and realized, at 41, that I can be defined by more than my career choices.

God bless the child that's got his own

I began this day with a completely different post in mind.  Ironically, it had to do with how I was finding much joy in this holiday season compared to the last few years.  I still want to talk about that.  In fact, I think it's more important than ever to push that to the forefront.  But first, I need to talk about what happened today, this terrible day in a tiny picturesque New England town.  I just read a blog post that put it this way - I want to feel this to the core of my being.  (http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2012/12/14/a-day-for-hatred/)

I don't know if I would have that level of emotion, that need to FEEL, that I do if I were not a parent.  I would feel the loss, I would grieve with the families, there would still be tears for the innocent babies lost.  Something about having children that age takes this entire nightmare to a different level.  The first thing I felt when I heard the news: devastation.  Heart break.  And of course, the why???  How can you possibly begin to answer that?  The truth is, you can't.  We will never know why, we will never understand.  As many facts as may come forward in the next days, weeks, months, there is no understanding about this evil.  Pure, unadulterated, next level evil.  I did my very best today to stay far away from political posturing.  I've been nothing but consistent in my stance that I can completely disagree with a belief on an "issue" while still respecting your right to hold that belief.  Today, that was hard.

Because this was not about guns or mental health or anything but that evil.  How, I ask you, has our world become this playground for evil that we can't even send our kindergarden students to school safely?  As many parents, the first and only thought in my head after details began coming in was I need to hug my kids and never ever let them go.  I even suggested to my sister that we take the kids and move to a small Northern European country to finish out our days, me knitting clothes for everyone and the kids fishing for our sustenance.  After that reassurance that everyone is ok in my world, my next overwhelming need was to fall to my knees and pray.  Pray for the babies who will be spending Christmas in heaven.  Pray for their broken families.  Pray for everyone that had to see that crime scene.  Pray for the innocent children left behind who might never feel safe again.

Most of all?  Pray for our world.  I pray that we haven't gone so far past that next level that we can no longer be redeemed.  I pray that this horrible incident will drive more people to their knees and away from expressing their outrage over policy on social media.  I pray for everyone that hurts, that wonders, that is heartbroken.  More than ever we need to come back to basics.  Basic human decency, love, trust in one another.  Pray for these things.

Hold your love ones tighter than ever tonight.  And if you will, please pray with me.

This ain't no holiday, but it always turns out this way..

I am a sentimental sap, I admit it.  There was a time when I would have been (read: thought I was) way too cool to admit to such tripe, but I am a huge fan of Christmas/Holiday themed movies.  I watch them all, good, bad and too awful to admit to anyone that I actually watched other than my sister.  She gets the full lure of the Lifetime and Hallmark scene when you need a good Nora Roberts or Danielle Steel moment.

There are a few of these movies that I tape and watch over and over and over again until January.  For whatever reason, I don't own any of these movies on DVD.  I watch them on TV, because, well, just because.  It seems like the way to go.  This comes to mind today because two of them, lucky me, are on today.  Welcome to December folks, amateur hour is over!  I'm not one of those that starts the Christmas caroling and decorating in October - not looking at anyone that may or may not be related to my husband, certainly - but when it's time, it's time.

First up on my list, "The Family Stone".  If you've never seen this movie and you are prone to weeping, skip this one.  I sent a text to my sister when I started watching it this morning, asking if I was indeed a masochist.  The consensus is yes, yes I am.  To be fair, this movie came out the year before my dad died and I bet I first watched it the first Christmas after that.  So of course it's a tearjerker for me.  Other than that, I have no idea why I love this movie so much.  It's full of so much uncomfortable family dynamic that at times, even when I know what's coming, I have to put my fingers in my ears and go "la la la" during certain scenes.  And SJP?  She drives me insane!  Her character is maddening in this movie, so maybe that's why it works??  Dunno.  Regardless, I watch it every time it's on, even during the summer.  Yay me.

Second one I don't feel ashamed of, although I am a bit ashamed by the fact that I never actually watched the whole film until I was an adult.  It wasn't one of those family traditions when I was growing up and let's face it, it is a long movie.  Unless you are invested, maybe too long.  Not I, though.  Not even close.  I will watch "It's a Wonderful Life" at least 4 times during the month of December, and there have been a few seasons lately that I have watched it far more than that.  Black and white, traditional, honest to God character redemption at Christmas.  Sigh.  To me, all movies should be like this.

(on a completely random note: why does a picture of Bert and Ernie with a video camera come up when I search for this image??  Awkward.)

Who doesn't cheer for good ol' George Bailey?  He's the hometown boy, constantly overshadowed by his hero brother, with "all these kids" (I always giggle at that line), Mr. Potter, who truly is a giant ass; eternally plotting against him and a crazy uncle that loses money.  And I also don't know too many people out there that haven't had a George Bailey moment in their lives.  So let the angels get their wings, I will watch this movie and recite every word to myself every single year.  Strangely, I watch this one alone, no wonder why.

That's just the tip of the iceburg!  In conclusion, I watch entirely too much television.  The End.