And Who Made Me God? A Public Apology

When we were younger, we had so many ideas about who we were and who we were going to be. We dreamt big, and in many cases, there was no one who could tell us otherwise. Whether those plans or dreams became reality is relative. Some manifested a bit different than we had anticipated, but we can’t really complain, because after all, “Ehn…close enough”.

Then, there were those things we projected on others. You know, the way we make comments about others and don’t really take into consideration the fact that they actually believe in that one thing with a faith that could move mountains. Sometimes we laughed, or even scoffed, when some told us their plans. Who we were to think we knew better still amazes me...I mean, really…my dream is mine; yours is yours, right?

Well, today, here’s to my public confession, almost 11 years too late. So, in my single, young days, I belonged to an amazing young adult group called Fusion. We were a mesh of cultures and interesting backgrounds. We were passionate, real, and had a great time together. At that point in time, the world was our canvas to draw on it whatever we wanted. Our leaders, an amazing couple, encouraged us to reach for the stars and never give up. We were pumped; we were ready to take on the world. No one could hold us back…well, except for one another, I guess.

And that is where I stepped in. As one of the older members of Fusion, I was the first to be engaged (if I recall correctly). I was excited and wanted everyone to be part of my big day. Well, almost everyone… There was a young lady who was amazing, always had a smile on her face and lit up every room into which she walked. She had shared about her background with family members who were deaf and how being hearing didn’t make her feel any better but helped her appreciate the gift of hearing the more. She was one bubbly young woman who knew how to get anyone from a funk to laughing uncontrollably. She had something special about her, and I knew she was going to make some man very proud one day.

Indirectly, I watched and waited to see who would approach her as a potential suitor, after all, she was nothing short of a great catch. Then he came along. He had been in the youth group I had been a leader in for a short while. He was tall, goofy, and I could hardly take him serious, but he was pretty cool.

Now, when he stepped to my girl though, I took on a role no one put on me. In fact, to show how much I didn’t think this budding relationship would work, when she was invited to our wedding, she was not given a plus one, even though I knew they were getting serious. She requested an additional invite, so that he could join us to celebrate our day, but I was certain what they had was a passing thing, and with our tight budget and ridiculously growing list, I wasn’t budging.

Interestingly, she helped with our wedding prep, giving ideas and the like, because of who she is. She never asked again, and I never brought it up. Apparently, I was a relationship guru and she would soon realize I was right. In the long run, she made the decision not attend our wedding, out of respect for her boyfriend, and to prove how serious they really were, I think (I’ve never asked).

This young woman never held a grudge or said a single negative word to me. She and that young man did eventually get married shortly after us and are happy with two children now. As I stalk her Facebook page from time-to-time, I laugh at myself and think, “Man, if she had listened to my foolishness, she would have missed out on the love of her life. Isn’t it awesome that I’m not God?”

Interestingly enough, shortly before my husband and I got married, I received word that someone I truly respected and had taken the time to introduce my fiancé to privately and who had expressed excitement and joy had told someone else later that it was unfortunate that we probably wouldn’t make it to year five.  That was like a dagger to my heart, but it simply goes to show that we aren’t the best judges of what our future holds, much less that of others.

For that reason and others, I’ll admit that never an apology have I uttered to that young woman, and for that I am embarrassed, which is why I believe she deserves a public apology. Mrs. Smith, you are an amazing woman. I’m happy to see that you are doing well and still very much happy and in love with the young man I didn’t take a moment to get to know, so I could catch a glimpse of the wonder you found in him. Mr. Smith, I apologize for never giving you a chance and for misjudging what you two had/have. I wish you both many more fruitful and joyous years in Christ, whose opinion alone matters anyway.

He's Listening

He’s listening, even when we don’t think He is. Even when we think it’s only something that matters to us and matters to no one else. When you speak it out and no one else is around, or when you speak it in the depths of your heart, He’s listening.

It’s funny, because about three months ago, while jogging one morning, I got to a point that I was super tired. I had just started being more purposeful about at least getting myself up and moving, and since running has always been something I enjoyed, I figured, why not? Well, that was probably week two or three, and I had just increased my distance from a mile to a mile and a half and was feeling like that was a comfortable distance to maintain. However, on this particular morning, as I headed home, about half a mile before reaching the house, exhausted and in need of water, I felt something within me say, “Just go a little bit further.” I was not having it. I was nearing the end of my jog, sweat was beading down my face, and the sun was starting to put its britches on. It was my first day attempting to push to two miles, and I was already feeling it. However, with about a quarter mile to go, I felt like calling it quits, but that same feeling said, “Come on; you can do it.”  I fought it and was certain there was no way I was going to make it that last ¼ mile, but as clear as one of my children whispering in my ear about needing to go to the restroom at a movie theater, I heard, “When you can’t, I can. I will. I am.” I looked around, wondering if anyone else was within sight, because as audible as it was, surely I was not the only one who had heard it, but nothing…no one.

Funnily enough, not only did I complete the ¼ mile, but somehow, my legs got to moving and I ran, not jogged, an additional ¼ mile. Granted, I ended up huffing and puffing like I had barely escaped being attacked by a pack of javelinas. As I bent over to catch my breath, I felt this overall sense of accomplishment, like “Oh, I just did that.” In that moment though, I knew I had not done it on my own. It’s just something I’ve been realizing more and more though: most of my achievements in life have not been of my own doing at all.

What’s interesting is that about three years ago, when I was an insurance agent, I was on my way to meet with a client at his home when I took a minute to look at the neighborhood I was in. I absolutely loved it, and under my breath, I remember saying, “I’m sure it costs a lot to live here. Who knows…maybe someday we can, even if all we can do is get a small place to rent. I just love it.” In my heart of hearts, that day, I decide that some day, I was going to live there. It was funny, because fast forward three years and our family was looking for a house to rent. Needless to say, I had totally forgotten about the car ride and that whole experience as a whole.

We looked at various zip codes and found a lot of nice homes. As we looked, I remember passing by the area with my husband and saying, “I’ve always liked that neighborhood”. He was preoccupied, so I don’t recall him responding. I just smiled to myself and thought, “Well…someday.” After all, we had a house that we were pretty set on and just waiting for the lease. Unfortunately, a week later, we were informed that they realized there was actually another application before ours, so we went back to searching, and I found a house that I wanted to check out within our price range, which was odd, because no house in that zip code was ever available in our price range before.

Well, I drove to it and couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably upon arrival. The house truly was not as beautiful as any of the other houses on the street (I should have been more specific), but it was in the exact community that I had passed by and wanted to live in three years prior. It was the only house within our price range in that entire subdivision.

Long story short, everything fell into place. There were delays that made us want to look elsewhere, but at the end of the day, here we are. The house suits our family needs just fine, and I’ve been jogging two miles 2 to 4 times a week since we moved here.

Since I realized that what was nearly impossible in my mind, He materialized, it hit me that the statement, “When you can’t, I can. I will. I am” was so evident even in that situation. I still have some areas of doubt, but I’m certain of the fact that He’s looking out for me, cares for me, and truly wants the best for me. On my down days, when I’m about to give up and lose faith, I realize all I have to do is speak to Him, in my heart even, when I don’t have the words to speak.                     

Remember: He hears us, you and me. Even the little things, those that may seem far-fetched or minute in the grand scheme of things matter. If it matters to you, it matters to Him. Nothing escapes Him, because He’s intentional, and He’s listening. 

What Do You Miss about Us?

This week was certainly another one of reflection. There were several moments of chaos and noise, but when I got away, in those rare moments, when it required me getting up early, changing into my shorts and tennis shoes and stealing away while the family slept, I got what I wanted – silence. It was during one of those moments I wondered where the last several years had gone.

I knew time had passed by, but I didn’t realize it had passed me as well. I tried to account for the last four, then eight years. It just all seemed to be a blur. Yet, I could remember the day my then-courter, asked me to marry him. I remember the place, the smells, the atmosphere that very day. Time stood still that day. My heart pounded just a little faster. At that moment, I realized my life would be changed forever.

Fast forward 125 months and here we are: three children, all in school and so many responsibilities. It’s no longer just us. It’s no longer just our love. There are no longer late night walks in the park or Saturdays in South Phoenix feeding the homeless. Times have changed greatly, and with it, so have we. In some ways, we have remained the same; yet, being that we are humans, we have grown…we have found new interests and discovered more things we dislike. Our goals have changed quite a bit. What seemed within grasp earlier in the story of us now sometimes seems somewhat lofty.

Two nights ago, on a rare night that my husband happened to be awake long enough after a long day, I asked him a question I’d been asking myself for quite a while: “Babe, what do you miss about us?” Truth be told, that’s something I think about quite a bit. At 25, the world was my canvas, and what I couldn’t draw on it, I wrote on the pages of my heart. I shared them with my new husband, and we dreamt together. Now, thinking clearly, using yesterday’s eyes, I see that so few of those dreams have materialized, and not because they were that far-fetched either.

As is usually the case, I answered my question first. I told him I missed dreaming. I missed sharing our visions and goals and working toward them together. We now have differing passions and interests, some which kind of meet at a point, but for the most part, they kind of collide.

He simply stated that he missed when things were calm, when there was little to no stress. He missed the more satisfied, happier, lighthearted version of me. At that moment, I interrupted him and reminded him that I asked about what he missed about US, not me. He clarified, stating that when I began to feel unfulfilled, I changed. He stated that that change changed us, because he then became more snappy and irritable, which then irritated me, and our changes in attitude affected our relationship.

We both just looked at each other and sat in silence for a little while. It was an honest question, and the answers were candid. It’s crazy how much we miss in life when we lose focus of what brought us together and instead focus on the here and now alone. We highlight our current issues, analyze them, assess and reassess them, then try to fix them. In trying to fix them, we tend to make a mess of things, which further stresses us out, and in turn, we lash out at those closest to us.

Well, that was that. We’ve decided to dream again, folks. We’ve decided to enjoy the moments we have together. When will we start? Well, we started today! We went to the circus; we were spontaneous. We found out about it this morning and decided right then and there that we were going. That’s totally different from who I am, being a planner and all, but we enjoyed ourselves. I enjoyed myself. I turned off the concerns about tomorrow and genuinely had fun.

We miss us, but we can get back to where we were. Baby steps...

                                                                                                                                                                        

I Already Pick Myself Apart

So, a few ladies and I were discussing a couple days ago about how we as women dress. One friend stated that she was tired of how women walk around with their flab hanging out and not wearing the proper undergarments to hold things up and right. She was of the opinion that if leaving one’s home, all precautions must be taken: Spanx must be worn, girdles, or even slips ought to be utilized. She expressed her dislike of exposed bra straps and fat spilling over one’s gut. She mentioned how such exposure is okay in one’s household alone.

Having been one who had body issues after having my daughter, I didn’t know what to make of this. I personally don’t care for excess spillage or women who wear three sizes too small, expose their flabby bellies wearing a medium shirt or mid-rift when they know good and well their behinds should be in an extra large. I also don’t care for the extra tight pants that give the illusion of a crotch.

However, I do have dear friends who find it difficult to feel beautiful in what is available for plus sized women, so I kinda understand the struggle. Not all women can afford or even pull off Spanx. Even those who can afford them find them uncomfortable or feel awful that they have to hide who they really are, or how they look, in order not to make others feel comfortable.

So, I’ll be honest…when I take a look at my undressed body, there are days I just stare and analyze every flaw and actually get grossed out. Those days became the better part of my week at one point in time, and I had to realize that I couldn’t go around feeling unpretty and think my daughter would grow up with a healthy understanding of what beauty really was.

What did I do to get where I am now, you may ask? Well, I started talking to a dear friend who informed me that although I enjoyed working out, if I did not watch what I ate, I could exercise forever and see no results. Let me tell you though…I like food. I’m no foodie or anything, as I’m one who could go a whole day on a spinach-banana-almond milk-oats diet, but when there’s nothing stopping me…a good ol’ piece of Popeye’s chicken, some mashed potatoes, red beans and rice, and a large Chick-fil-A lemonade does my body good.

We’ve just got to make an effort. We can’t get mad that people get disgusted by our spillovers when we purposely choose to expose them. Now, that’s on you/me/us. If you have the right sized shirt and when laughing with your friends, your stretch marked tummy peeks out from under it briefly, don’t feel embarrassed or get unnecessarily self-conscious. We’re women…even on our best days, most of us still struggle with stretch marks from yo-yoing weight, extra skin from childbirth, or sagging behinds from weight gain, muscle loss, or whatever. As long as we’re doing what we can to get ourselves to a healthier us, we need to embrace the bodies we have.

My take on it: if you need it and it makes you feel good about yourself, pad them. If you don’t mind the false illusion it gives, I guess you should go for it. I can’t and won’t, because it’s an additional cost and more time and work for me. Yep, call me lazy…I’ll own it. I’ve come to a place where I’m still evolving as a human being, a woman. I still have my good and bad days, and I can’t fault anyone for them but myself. I have days that I just don’t get around to working out like I’m supposed to or that I eat like I don’t have sense at a Nigerian party spread out with my favorite foods. Will I kick myself and starve myself the next day? Nope, I just ensure I don’t make it a habit.

We have but one life. Our bodies are our temples. We need to treat them as sanctuaries, as they have been given to us, and we can’t afford not to care for them properly. However, will I go overboard in order to keep other people from judging me? In the words of Bishop Bullwinkle, “Hell to thenaw naw naw”. I’ve done that in the past, and the more I tried to please others or put up a front that I had what I didn’t, the longer the self-loathing lingered.

Ladies, let’s be our greatest cheerleaders. Men out there are judging us. The media is telling us what we should look like and how ideal it is for us to look a certain way. Get those images out of your mind. I’m not stepping out for you. When I decide to leave my house, putting one foot in front of the other, you don’t know how I woke up feeling about myself that morning, so please put your bugged eyes back in their sockets, move aside and let me through. I already pick myself apart; I don’t need your help in that department.