I told you in the last blog that this was at least a two part blog. Thanks for hanging in there with me as I share my thoughts with you.
As I said, things changed when one of my best friends suddenly told me that he wanted to date me. I was shocked, excited, and thrilled! Someone actually liked me as a girl and not just as one of the boys. We began to date and before long, he told me he loved me. He would tell me daily how beautiful I was and how much he loved me (still does to this day over 25 years later). I felt like a real, cute girl not a frumpy, fat elephant.
We eventually decided to get married. Things that could go wrong with this plan did for me. I couldn't find the dress I had dreamed of in my size or price range. I ended up having my mom make my dress. That caused the old ugliness of being less than pretty, fat, etc back up. This continued to reek havoc on me to the point that I eventually asked for a family only wedding because I was afraid of being the fat bride that everyone talked about. Everyone agreed and we got married.
As time moved forward we found out I was pregnant with our first. I loved being pregnant (after I got over the morning sickness). Unfortunately, I had a horrendous case of post partum depression once my son came. I felt fat all the time. I would diet and lose a bit but everywhere I looked, everyone was skinny. I felt like a whale once again.
We had 2 more boys and by the time the 3rd came along, I had decided that I didn't care anymore. But I did. I knew in my heart that if I didn't do something that I would lose my husband to someone prettier, skinnier, etc. That was far from the truth but it was my perception. I tried diets and exercise, weight watchers, and it was almost obsessive with me. My husband told me many times that he loved me the way I was and that I was beautiful. I just couldn't get that through my head. I thought that if I didn't lose 100 pounds I was doomed. Diets, etc. started up and failed.
One day, I woke up and decided enough was enough. I wasn't ever going to be a size 6. I was healthy. I was happy and I had a family who loved me. I was done trying to live up to the world's expectations. I started living life. It was a turning point for me.
Lately, I have been thinking about how I look and I would like to lose some weight. I am being realistic in how much I want to lose. The thing is this, someone told me recently that the reason that a lot of people gain weight is that they get into a relationship, etc and become happy so they eat more. I am pretty sure I took it wrong but it sounded like that if you are happy and are eating and exercising then you should be a skinny person. Why? Why do I have to be a size 6, 8, 10. Why can't I be happy, eat what I like in moderation, exercise, and not be a skinny mini? Another person told me that if I tried harder then I would actually lose weight. I didn't even know this person. Why are they judging me based on how I look? Why can't I be seen for who I am? Why is everything tied to looks, weight, etc? I hate that society ties everything to weight and looks.
When you see me, you will see that I am far from skinny. I am happy. I eat what I like in moderation. I do exercise. I live life fully. I am not a glamour girl. I don't wear a lot of makeup and I could care less if I have the latest style of clothes (I love my blue jeans!!). This is a far cry from when I was younger but there comes a time when you wake up and realize you are 47 years old and there are so many other things that are important.
My perception then was distorted and twisted. Now, I think I have it right. Time will tell.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Monday, April 28, 2014
My Perception--Part One
I have missed writing this past week. The State of Texas deemed last week as a testing week for students and as a result, there was no time for email much less blogging. I am back again though and I have to say that I am glad.
This post is one that is really hard to write. It needs to be written but it is hard to write because it is so personal. It is going to be at least two parts if not three parts.
I have always had an image problem. I have always been a large person even when I was little. I know this. As a younger person, I was active as much as any other child. I was outside more than I was inside. I ran, biked, climbed, etc. but I was still a large person. I know that growing up my parents tried hard to keep me eating healthy and not a lot of sweets. They didn't let me drink a lot of sodas and sugary things. As I got older, I knew I was not skinny like the other girls in my school. I knew that I was what people deemed "fat". I tried dieting from time to time. I tried all kinds of crazy diets.
I remember the summer between 8th and 9th grade. I decided that I was really fat so I managed to go several days without eating. I drank lots of water and juice so that no one would know and I almost pulled it off for 3 weeks but then at youth camp everyone got food poisoning except me and a couple of other kids. It was then that they discovered I wasn't eating and made me eat. Needless to say I contracted food poisoning as well because they made me eat the food everyone else had been eating. (In their defense, they didn't know until a couple of weeks later that it was food poisoning at the time.)
I hated high school (that's another blog) and having issues with how I looked just added to that. I was certain that I was the fattest person in school (I really wasn't but that was my perception). I went on to college and was paired with a wonderful, sweet girl who was absolutely beautiful. I was devastated. I felt like a large elephant compared to her and the other girls. I took a lot of my anger out on her indirectly. (Eventually, I went and apologized to her and we talked and today we are friends like I had hoped we would be). As time went on, my perception of myself got worse. I spiraled down. (Again, this will be another blog). My weight went up and down and I felt horrible. The first two years were hard for me because I couldn't seem to get away from this image problem.
My junior year things started changing a bit. I met two guys who became my best friends. We did everything together. They didn't seem to care that I wasn't a skinny person. They didn't care that I didn't wear the designer clothes. They liked me for who I was. I actually started thinking about things other than how I looked. I was actually enjoying college, life, and I felt like I was someone. I thought that I might actually be someone that guys would look at that think about dating and not as just a little sister. By the time my senior year started, I realized that I was just one of the guys. But things would change in a way I never imagined.
This post is one that is really hard to write. It needs to be written but it is hard to write because it is so personal. It is going to be at least two parts if not three parts.
I have always had an image problem. I have always been a large person even when I was little. I know this. As a younger person, I was active as much as any other child. I was outside more than I was inside. I ran, biked, climbed, etc. but I was still a large person. I know that growing up my parents tried hard to keep me eating healthy and not a lot of sweets. They didn't let me drink a lot of sodas and sugary things. As I got older, I knew I was not skinny like the other girls in my school. I knew that I was what people deemed "fat". I tried dieting from time to time. I tried all kinds of crazy diets.
I remember the summer between 8th and 9th grade. I decided that I was really fat so I managed to go several days without eating. I drank lots of water and juice so that no one would know and I almost pulled it off for 3 weeks but then at youth camp everyone got food poisoning except me and a couple of other kids. It was then that they discovered I wasn't eating and made me eat. Needless to say I contracted food poisoning as well because they made me eat the food everyone else had been eating. (In their defense, they didn't know until a couple of weeks later that it was food poisoning at the time.)
I hated high school (that's another blog) and having issues with how I looked just added to that. I was certain that I was the fattest person in school (I really wasn't but that was my perception). I went on to college and was paired with a wonderful, sweet girl who was absolutely beautiful. I was devastated. I felt like a large elephant compared to her and the other girls. I took a lot of my anger out on her indirectly. (Eventually, I went and apologized to her and we talked and today we are friends like I had hoped we would be). As time went on, my perception of myself got worse. I spiraled down. (Again, this will be another blog). My weight went up and down and I felt horrible. The first two years were hard for me because I couldn't seem to get away from this image problem.
My junior year things started changing a bit. I met two guys who became my best friends. We did everything together. They didn't seem to care that I wasn't a skinny person. They didn't care that I didn't wear the designer clothes. They liked me for who I was. I actually started thinking about things other than how I looked. I was actually enjoying college, life, and I felt like I was someone. I thought that I might actually be someone that guys would look at that think about dating and not as just a little sister. By the time my senior year started, I realized that I was just one of the guys. But things would change in a way I never imagined.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
My Daddy
Today, my daddy has been on my mind a lot. He is an interesting man. He is not tall but he isn't short. He has gray hair (probably a lot of it from me), ruddy skin, a contagious laugh, and a loving heart. He had a hard life growing up and not once have I heard him use this as an excuse for not doing something or accomplishing something. He was in one of the worst wars ever to be in and he came back from it scarred both physically and emotionally but he did not once take it out on us that I was ever aware of.
He shared his love of liverwurst and vienna sausages with me (not really a good thing but it happens). He found activities, tv shows, etc. that we could share and made time to do that with both me and my brother. He found time to be at piano recitals, choir concerts, etc. He made sure to take time for Saturday rides, chinaberry wars in the backyard, trips to the beach, and shopping for stuff he could probably have cared less about. He made sure that we were in church as much as possible. He also made sure that we had the things we needed and we never seemed to go without even when times were tough. He also showed me how to be someone who helped others without complaint.
My daddy taught me to look for a man who wouldn't hesitate to love me and tell me constantly that he loved me no matter what. My daddy taught me to look for a man who treated me like a princess. My daddy taught me to look for the good in people even when there didn't appear to be any good. My daddy taught me (although this lesson took a very long time) to know when to talk and when to be quiet. My daddy taught me to be picky about who I wanted to spend my life with. My daddy told me that if I was ever abused in any form then that person would have to deal with him first and last.
My daddy is really a softie at heart. He cuddled my boys when they were little, played in the floor with them, played silly games with them, and taught them how to cheat at UNO. He taught them how to love hot dogs and bologna (again not really a good thing but it happens). Even despite my own misgivings, he taught my boys how to shoot a BB gun. When my nieces and nephew came into the picture, he had no problem wearing a princess crown, playing Wii with them, or getting on the trampoline or scooter with them. He calls, texts, and emails us just to see if we are okay for no reason.
My daddy did try to find humor in things to get our minds off of pain or hurts. He was like that. Although, the one time he tried humor while I was in labor, didn't quite work like he hoped. I laugh about it now though so maybe it did work.
He cries over our heartaches. He laughs over our adventures. He gets angry over our injustices and wants to come defend us. Even now, he does all this. Through it all he prays for us every day. My daddy is one of the greatest heroes I have in my life.
He shared his love of liverwurst and vienna sausages with me (not really a good thing but it happens). He found activities, tv shows, etc. that we could share and made time to do that with both me and my brother. He found time to be at piano recitals, choir concerts, etc. He made sure to take time for Saturday rides, chinaberry wars in the backyard, trips to the beach, and shopping for stuff he could probably have cared less about. He made sure that we were in church as much as possible. He also made sure that we had the things we needed and we never seemed to go without even when times were tough. He also showed me how to be someone who helped others without complaint.
My daddy taught me to look for a man who wouldn't hesitate to love me and tell me constantly that he loved me no matter what. My daddy taught me to look for a man who treated me like a princess. My daddy taught me to look for the good in people even when there didn't appear to be any good. My daddy taught me (although this lesson took a very long time) to know when to talk and when to be quiet. My daddy taught me to be picky about who I wanted to spend my life with. My daddy told me that if I was ever abused in any form then that person would have to deal with him first and last.
My daddy is really a softie at heart. He cuddled my boys when they were little, played in the floor with them, played silly games with them, and taught them how to cheat at UNO. He taught them how to love hot dogs and bologna (again not really a good thing but it happens). Even despite my own misgivings, he taught my boys how to shoot a BB gun. When my nieces and nephew came into the picture, he had no problem wearing a princess crown, playing Wii with them, or getting on the trampoline or scooter with them. He calls, texts, and emails us just to see if we are okay for no reason.
My daddy did try to find humor in things to get our minds off of pain or hurts. He was like that. Although, the one time he tried humor while I was in labor, didn't quite work like he hoped. I laugh about it now though so maybe it did work.
He cries over our heartaches. He laughs over our adventures. He gets angry over our injustices and wants to come defend us. Even now, he does all this. Through it all he prays for us every day. My daddy is one of the greatest heroes I have in my life.
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
My Guys
I think I have said it before but family is very important to me. My world revolves around my husband and my boys. I know that people often think that I put too much into them but I love them so very much that I just can't picture my world without them.
My husband is tall, quiet, and keeps to himself until he gets to know you. Once he gets to know you then you find out that he is funny and smart. With me he is very loving and caring. I love that he wants to snuggle on the couch when we watch television or movies or such. He holds my hand all the time. He is constantly hugging me and showing me his affection. I know it sounds corny but he recently made me a mix of music for my ipod and he is continually adding to it. It is all music that reminds him of me. He even went so far as to listen to a country station one day for music. If you really know him, then you know that he is a classic rock guy and listening to country was an endurance test. He knows that I like country though so he made an effort. He helps me cook supper from time to time and I love that time when we are side by side doing that. He takes care of us, encourages us, manages our finances (which I am so glad), and is creative with adventures that take us to new places. We have been married for 25 years now and it still seems like we are still just coming off our honeymoon. He is the hero of my heart.
My oldest son is athletic, smart, and funny. He is such a people person which is a good thing since he is in the marketing business. He is a lot like his daddy. He loves with every inch his soul and he has no problem showing his love. He calls me regularly just to say hi and see if I am okay and let me know how he is doing. He has a strong Christian foundation and is such a godly man. Just like his daddy. He knows how to make me laugh and does it all the time.
My middle son is so very smart, musical, quiet, and funny. He knows that if he starts a certain quote then I will start laughing no matter what mood I am in. He is a genius with computer systems. He is also most like his daddy. He cares deeply and he is sensitive although a lot of people don't see that. He is kind, giving, helpful, and respectful to everyone. He is going to be a great catch for some girl and she had better watch out because he will sweep her off her feet when he realizes she is the one for him. (His daddy did that with me.)
My youngest son is talented in so many ways as well. He is musically inclined, theatrical, and knowledgeable about so many aspects of history and such. He is determined, personable, funny, and kind hearted. He treats people with respect but he also has an opinion for everything.
My kids are smart like their daddy. I am the cute one! (HAHA!!!). They are so different yet so alike in many ways. They make me laugh. They have no problem giving us hugs or showing affection. They are talented beyond measure. I am so stinking proud of all that they have done, are doing, and are going to do.
I could go on and on about my family. I love them more than words can say. They are my world. Be blessed.
My husband is tall, quiet, and keeps to himself until he gets to know you. Once he gets to know you then you find out that he is funny and smart. With me he is very loving and caring. I love that he wants to snuggle on the couch when we watch television or movies or such. He holds my hand all the time. He is constantly hugging me and showing me his affection. I know it sounds corny but he recently made me a mix of music for my ipod and he is continually adding to it. It is all music that reminds him of me. He even went so far as to listen to a country station one day for music. If you really know him, then you know that he is a classic rock guy and listening to country was an endurance test. He knows that I like country though so he made an effort. He helps me cook supper from time to time and I love that time when we are side by side doing that. He takes care of us, encourages us, manages our finances (which I am so glad), and is creative with adventures that take us to new places. We have been married for 25 years now and it still seems like we are still just coming off our honeymoon. He is the hero of my heart.
My oldest son is athletic, smart, and funny. He is such a people person which is a good thing since he is in the marketing business. He is a lot like his daddy. He loves with every inch his soul and he has no problem showing his love. He calls me regularly just to say hi and see if I am okay and let me know how he is doing. He has a strong Christian foundation and is such a godly man. Just like his daddy. He knows how to make me laugh and does it all the time.
My middle son is so very smart, musical, quiet, and funny. He knows that if he starts a certain quote then I will start laughing no matter what mood I am in. He is a genius with computer systems. He is also most like his daddy. He cares deeply and he is sensitive although a lot of people don't see that. He is kind, giving, helpful, and respectful to everyone. He is going to be a great catch for some girl and she had better watch out because he will sweep her off her feet when he realizes she is the one for him. (His daddy did that with me.)
My youngest son is talented in so many ways as well. He is musically inclined, theatrical, and knowledgeable about so many aspects of history and such. He is determined, personable, funny, and kind hearted. He treats people with respect but he also has an opinion for everything.
My kids are smart like their daddy. I am the cute one! (HAHA!!!). They are so different yet so alike in many ways. They make me laugh. They have no problem giving us hugs or showing affection. They are talented beyond measure. I am so stinking proud of all that they have done, are doing, and are going to do.
I could go on and on about my family. I love them more than words can say. They are my world. Be blessed.
Monday, April 14, 2014
Pope Francis
I saw a television interview recently on Pope Francis. In case you don't know him, he is THE head of the Catholic church and lives is a little place called "The Vatican". As I watched the interviews and the story unfold, I was more and more impressed with this man.
He is not a run of the mill Catholic Pope. He believes in service, being humble, living simply, and doing what God has called him to do. He expects the same from his fellow priests, cardinals, etc. He is having to clean up the mess that has transpired over the years in the Catholic church which is no small undertaking. The press talked about how tired he looked. They talked about him like he was under a microscope. It was during all this scrutiny that I realized something. People ask him to pray for them, heal them, bless them, forgive them, etc. He is responsible for leading these churches and the people under him. I wondered if there was ever a time when he just shed the robes, put on a pair of slacks and a shirt and took a vacation. From everything that was said in the interview, this is not likely. So, him having time off is rare or non-existent.
This then led me to think about something else. We pray for our pastors and leaders in our churches. The Bible instructs us to do so. God instructs us to do so. So, why can't I also pray for this man? No, I am not Catholic. I am very familiar with the Catholic church since I grew up with friends who were Catholic. That doesn't mean that I can't pray for this man. He carries a heavy "weight" with all that he has to do. I know that he is of a different denomination. Okay. He doesn't believe like I do. Okay. I am still going to pray for this man. He is just as deserving of prayer as anyone else.
I know that not everyone will agree with me on this and that is okay. I believe in praying for people. I believe that God has me pray for certain people for a reason. So I will pray for Pope Francis daily. If God places a specific person on your heart then I would suggest that you listen and that you pray for them. There may be a reason that you are unaware of that they need your prayer.
Know that I am always praying. Be blessed.
He is not a run of the mill Catholic Pope. He believes in service, being humble, living simply, and doing what God has called him to do. He expects the same from his fellow priests, cardinals, etc. He is having to clean up the mess that has transpired over the years in the Catholic church which is no small undertaking. The press talked about how tired he looked. They talked about him like he was under a microscope. It was during all this scrutiny that I realized something. People ask him to pray for them, heal them, bless them, forgive them, etc. He is responsible for leading these churches and the people under him. I wondered if there was ever a time when he just shed the robes, put on a pair of slacks and a shirt and took a vacation. From everything that was said in the interview, this is not likely. So, him having time off is rare or non-existent.
This then led me to think about something else. We pray for our pastors and leaders in our churches. The Bible instructs us to do so. God instructs us to do so. So, why can't I also pray for this man? No, I am not Catholic. I am very familiar with the Catholic church since I grew up with friends who were Catholic. That doesn't mean that I can't pray for this man. He carries a heavy "weight" with all that he has to do. I know that he is of a different denomination. Okay. He doesn't believe like I do. Okay. I am still going to pray for this man. He is just as deserving of prayer as anyone else.
I know that not everyone will agree with me on this and that is okay. I believe in praying for people. I believe that God has me pray for certain people for a reason. So I will pray for Pope Francis daily. If God places a specific person on your heart then I would suggest that you listen and that you pray for them. There may be a reason that you are unaware of that they need your prayer.
Know that I am always praying. Be blessed.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
God's 2x4
I am so blessed beyond measure! Recently, I was shown just how blessed I am.
I tell God constantly that He has to hit me on the head with a 2x4 so that I can hear Him. I know that He gives us signs and words and people in our lives to give us His message but I am not good at reading these things so I ask Him to really let me know loudly, so to speak.
This particular adventure all started with a message from a friend that there was an opening for an English teacher at a school close to my home. The message came as I was leaving work. I was so excited! I started praying immediately. I talked to God and I told Him that I seriously wanted the English job but if He wanted me to stay where I was then I would gladly stay there. I told Him that it was going to be totally in His hands but He was going to have to "hit me with 2x4" so that I was clear about what I was to do. I told Him I was going to go on faith and I knew that whatever He had for me then it was going to be amazing.
The next night, I had a dream. In this dream I could only see half of everything. I knew I was chasing a trash truck. All the sudden a police car came around me and over the loud speaker, the voice kept saying, "I have this. You can stop now." The voice said it 3 times. On the third time, I hit something really hard and everything went white. As the white cleared up, I could see through what appeared to be foggy glass. I could see my current co-workers but they could not see or hear me. I woke up feeling somewhat confused. I shared this dream with my husband because sometimes a dream is just a dream. He pondered on it for a bit and then told me that it was interesting and maybe we should just wait and see. My antenna went up. I started praying and asking God to show me the meaning of this dream.
On the Friday of that week, I was called into a meeting. I was given some news and told that I would have to make a choice. Without hesitating, I made the choice. I stressed over telling my family but finally, I did. Their reaction took me by surprise. They were so supportive and so comforting. The stress fell away and peace came over me.
I told God that I was in His hands completely on this journey and wherever He guided me to go then that would be it. I knew that this was going to be a huge step for me because I stress and worry and freak out over just about everything. This time, I wasn't doing that. That is when it hit me. The dream. This was God saying to me, "I have this. You can stop." It was such a lightning bolt! I was excited and I started just praising God for this.
I started applying for jobs. Job after job came open that I was more than qualified for. I knew it was early in the year and that there would be lots of openings as the school year came to a close. I prayed and thanked God daily for the opportunity to start fresh and to be closer to home. About 2 weeks later, I got a call. Could I come for an interview for Special Ed teacher? I said yes and prepared to get ready for this interview. (I hate interviewing because I feel so exposed).
Last Friday, I went to the interview. I got there early (Mrs. Sebesta always told us, "To be early is to be on time and to be on time is to be late."). They took me in immediately. The principals and I met and talked for what seemed to be a short time but in reality it was 45 minutes. (That is a good interview!) Towards the end of the interview, I mentioned that I had resigned and was walking on faith for a new job closer to home. They told me that one way or another I would be notified of their decision. I left feeling strange. Not happy or sad. I can't explain the feeling.
On Monday morning, I told God, I wasn't sure how I felt about the interview but that I would know in my heart it was His hand guiding me no matter what. At 9:30am, my phone rang. It was the school I had interviewed with. They offered me the job. Without hesitation, I heard a loud "yes" in my heart and so I answered, "Yes!" The principal gave me some information then she said, "You are right to let God guide your path like this. I am excited to work with you!" God had spoken through this lady to me. I had listened and He had answered my prayers. I started crying. Tears of joy, relief, and praise! I cried every time I spoke of this.
So you see, I am blessed beyond measure. God honored my faithfulness and my heart's desire to continue in the teaching field. He also showed me another lesson. I love English but I am really and truly a Special Ed teacher. I always go for the underdog and I have a burning desire to help those kids who struggle. Another heart lesson that He wanted me to learn.
I didn't let my fears, worries, freak outs rule me. I trusted in God and put my faith, hopes, dreams, and desires into His hands. That is the whole point here. We have to step out and know that "He has this."
Be blessed. I am always praying.
I tell God constantly that He has to hit me on the head with a 2x4 so that I can hear Him. I know that He gives us signs and words and people in our lives to give us His message but I am not good at reading these things so I ask Him to really let me know loudly, so to speak.
This particular adventure all started with a message from a friend that there was an opening for an English teacher at a school close to my home. The message came as I was leaving work. I was so excited! I started praying immediately. I talked to God and I told Him that I seriously wanted the English job but if He wanted me to stay where I was then I would gladly stay there. I told Him that it was going to be totally in His hands but He was going to have to "hit me with 2x4" so that I was clear about what I was to do. I told Him I was going to go on faith and I knew that whatever He had for me then it was going to be amazing.
The next night, I had a dream. In this dream I could only see half of everything. I knew I was chasing a trash truck. All the sudden a police car came around me and over the loud speaker, the voice kept saying, "I have this. You can stop now." The voice said it 3 times. On the third time, I hit something really hard and everything went white. As the white cleared up, I could see through what appeared to be foggy glass. I could see my current co-workers but they could not see or hear me. I woke up feeling somewhat confused. I shared this dream with my husband because sometimes a dream is just a dream. He pondered on it for a bit and then told me that it was interesting and maybe we should just wait and see. My antenna went up. I started praying and asking God to show me the meaning of this dream.
On the Friday of that week, I was called into a meeting. I was given some news and told that I would have to make a choice. Without hesitating, I made the choice. I stressed over telling my family but finally, I did. Their reaction took me by surprise. They were so supportive and so comforting. The stress fell away and peace came over me.
I told God that I was in His hands completely on this journey and wherever He guided me to go then that would be it. I knew that this was going to be a huge step for me because I stress and worry and freak out over just about everything. This time, I wasn't doing that. That is when it hit me. The dream. This was God saying to me, "I have this. You can stop." It was such a lightning bolt! I was excited and I started just praising God for this.
I started applying for jobs. Job after job came open that I was more than qualified for. I knew it was early in the year and that there would be lots of openings as the school year came to a close. I prayed and thanked God daily for the opportunity to start fresh and to be closer to home. About 2 weeks later, I got a call. Could I come for an interview for Special Ed teacher? I said yes and prepared to get ready for this interview. (I hate interviewing because I feel so exposed).
Last Friday, I went to the interview. I got there early (Mrs. Sebesta always told us, "To be early is to be on time and to be on time is to be late."). They took me in immediately. The principals and I met and talked for what seemed to be a short time but in reality it was 45 minutes. (That is a good interview!) Towards the end of the interview, I mentioned that I had resigned and was walking on faith for a new job closer to home. They told me that one way or another I would be notified of their decision. I left feeling strange. Not happy or sad. I can't explain the feeling.
On Monday morning, I told God, I wasn't sure how I felt about the interview but that I would know in my heart it was His hand guiding me no matter what. At 9:30am, my phone rang. It was the school I had interviewed with. They offered me the job. Without hesitation, I heard a loud "yes" in my heart and so I answered, "Yes!" The principal gave me some information then she said, "You are right to let God guide your path like this. I am excited to work with you!" God had spoken through this lady to me. I had listened and He had answered my prayers. I started crying. Tears of joy, relief, and praise! I cried every time I spoke of this.
So you see, I am blessed beyond measure. God honored my faithfulness and my heart's desire to continue in the teaching field. He also showed me another lesson. I love English but I am really and truly a Special Ed teacher. I always go for the underdog and I have a burning desire to help those kids who struggle. Another heart lesson that He wanted me to learn.
I didn't let my fears, worries, freak outs rule me. I trusted in God and put my faith, hopes, dreams, and desires into His hands. That is the whole point here. We have to step out and know that "He has this."
Be blessed. I am always praying.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
My Mom-in-Law
I had a great Mom-in-Law. She was anything but the typical Mom-in-Law. She was not condescending, hateful, or anything like you hear about in the media. She welcomed me with open arms from the very first time I met her and was introduced as "just a friend". (Later she told me that when my hubby introduced me, she knew at that moment that I was going to be her daughter-in-law). She may have been short but she was a powerhouse when it came to loving her kids and her family. She supported me, guided me, helped me more times than I could ever count. She would pray over me all the time. She never spoke an unkind word about anyone or anything. She was sweet and loving to everyone she came in contact with. She was such a Godly woman. She gave of herself willingly even when she didn't feel good. She was talented in art and she made many things over the years for the family. She was a great role model for me. She could cook for large quantities of people and never got flustered about it. She knew how to welcome people and make them feel special.
I try really hard to be like her. I want to be that kind of Mom-in-Law for my kids when the time comes. I want to be that kind of mom to my kids. I want them to remember me as a kind, sweet, loving, gentle, person. Not a snarky, crazy, angry weirdo. Unfortunately, there are many times when I fall flat and the weirdo in me comes out. It is in these times, that I have to remember and think hard about the words I choose, my actions, and my thoughts.
Unfortunately, we lost her to a hateful disease. It broke my heart. I realized just how much a part of my life she was. Even to this day, I can't think about her or talk about her without choking up and crying a bit. I know it is strange but I visit her grave often to talk things over with her and I write letters to her. I know that she is in heaven and I know that she won't answer me but just talking it out with her seems to help me. It helps me to put things in perspective.
I know that someday I will see her. I look forward to that day. I hope that I am making her proud of me and the way I am caring for my family and raising my kids. I know that by using her as an example, I have a great start. Be blessed. I am praying always.
I try really hard to be like her. I want to be that kind of Mom-in-Law for my kids when the time comes. I want to be that kind of mom to my kids. I want them to remember me as a kind, sweet, loving, gentle, person. Not a snarky, crazy, angry weirdo. Unfortunately, there are many times when I fall flat and the weirdo in me comes out. It is in these times, that I have to remember and think hard about the words I choose, my actions, and my thoughts.
Unfortunately, we lost her to a hateful disease. It broke my heart. I realized just how much a part of my life she was. Even to this day, I can't think about her or talk about her without choking up and crying a bit. I know it is strange but I visit her grave often to talk things over with her and I write letters to her. I know that she is in heaven and I know that she won't answer me but just talking it out with her seems to help me. It helps me to put things in perspective.
I know that someday I will see her. I look forward to that day. I hope that I am making her proud of me and the way I am caring for my family and raising my kids. I know that by using her as an example, I have a great start. Be blessed. I am praying always.
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