Amazing God!

I have seen God in action. I see him in action. He is always working, moving, mending, healing, reviving, supplying, listening. My goodness God is so very faithful! Our house was broken into a few weeks ago, and while it was devastating at the moment, God worked it all out for good. I am actually thankful for the experience, it brought our family closer, it re-tuned our ears to God and it erupted in me a new spirit of thankfulness.

I have seen God heal my broken heart, and mend my torn soul, I have felt his comfort and experienced his amazing presence. I have seen him work things out, that looked really rough. I have heard his voice and experienced his discipline. He has opened my eyes to see my own brokeness and neediness only to show me that it was okay to be broken, in fact that was where he wanted  me, dependent on him, less of me and more of him.
God knows me, he sees me, he hears me, he knows my imperfections and hang ups, he knows my strengths and sorrows. I just want to give God praise and honor. I want to shout from the mountaintops how amazing he is! I want others to experience this gentle, mighty God that is alive in this world.
Thank you Lord for loving me, caring for me, making yourself known to me. I couldn't find you on my own, so you found me. I couldn't even believe in you on my own, so you gave me faith. I can't even live for you alone, so you give me your Holy Spirit to guide me and to strengthen me, I can't even praise you without your grace, so you fill my lungs with air and fill my mouth with song.
 You God are something else. You are Holy! Thank you for finding me and claiming me and loving me and providing for me and protecting me and being with me even when things don't always work out the way I want them too, you are always present and that's what your promise is all about.... in so many ways. You promise to never leave us or forsake us. Thank you Jesus!

The thief... and my smile

I don't know who
I can't say why
but I know
I wanted to cry
to come on home
with kids in tow
and see a big broken window
the glass was shattered
and my heart was hurt
they left footprints of mud and dirt
the computer was gone
and so was the Mp3
but thank God no harm came to my family
this is life
the good and the bad
however, I have peace
and for that I'm glad
so until a new computer I get
I will have to temporarily quit blogging
but just for a while
the thief took many things
but he didn't get my smile

until later,

Charissa

"Stop" in the name of love...

I've had bloggers block the last few weeks. Not so much because, I haven't had anything to blog, but because, there has been too much to blog. I really wanted to share some things, but it felt too heavy, I wanted to be super honest, here, in this blog, but it was too much to even type. So, I am going to share a little of my heart, in a nutshell on some changes in my life, good and hard, but necessary for sure.

My mother-in-law and her husband came to visit last week. I had been a mental, physical mess before they came and my status didn't change while they were visiting. I really wanted to be able to sit down, focus, visit, laugh and enjoy my company, but I couldn't seem to do it. I was in my last week of school, working hard to pass that math class that kicked my butt and challenged me like nothing else this last quarter. I was overwhelmed to say the least, my migraine headaches had come back, I was exhausted, me and my husband had become roomates again, not really having any time for each other, although we wanted too, our schedules didn't allow for it. It was like tag team for us, he would get home, I would pass him the family so I could do all the things that I "had" to do.

I was running wild. I wanted to stop, but I was afraid. I was fearful of letting things go. I was fearful of becoming less than what I thought other people thought I should be. I was motivated by fear, approval of others and plain and simply trying to escape the "just being a mom and a wife" dilemna, that I had struggled with for so  many years.

I was drowning inside, in the pool that I continued to fill and fill. I thought the stress, headaches, sleepless nights, irratibility were okay, becuase I was bettering myself, it was for a good cause. I needed this education, I needed to be doing something for myself, I needed to feel independent and pursue something that I wanted. My family was suffering, but it was only for a few years, and wouldn't they be happy that I got what I wanted out of the deal?

My mother-in-laws husband, is a quiet man. He doesn't say a whole lot, and when he does, he is pretty soft spoken. The night before they were to leave, I had a meeting and I also had my last final the following day. I came home from the meeting and immediately went zooming through the house, afraid to sit down, afraid to let go, afraid to be alone with my own thoughts. I was so, "in the zone" that I didn't realize that Tim, my mother-in-laws husband had been standing trying to get my attention. Finally he said in a loud, authouratative voice, "Charissa, just 'STOP' for a minute will ya!" I stopped for sure, I was very surprised that he was so straight up with me and loud. I stopped and looked at him. He and my MIL were standing there wanting to give us a gift, but first they had to get my attention, so that I could receive it.

I sat down for a few minutes after that, and a little while later they were gone. For the next few days, Tim's request for me to "just Stop" played through my head over and over. It got the ball rolling through my life and I was able to "stop" and examine my life. As I gave myself permission to stop and slow down. I began to become aware of my physical and mental stress. I became more aware of the lack of "family" in my family. I became aware of my fears, true wants and needs. I became aware that I was drowning, and I was also holding the hose that continued to fill the tank.

I knew, that I needed to reevaluate my life, my time, my priorities. I needed to excavate my fears and find out what was hiding in them, find their true motive. I needed to sit with God,and ask " Is this what you intended for me?" I needed to seek wisdom from friends that have also spent time drowning themselves in the chaos and so called " have too's of life" And so I did. I evaluated, I reflected and heard some of the things my husband, friends, mother-in-law had said in the begining  to me about time and what they see with me. You see I used to want to be a lawyer, I do have the gift of persuasion, if I need to turn it on. I think I often use it on myself to deny what I know I need or to smooth over the truth so I can do what I want to do in the moment.

I have learned so much about myself, in a good, growing, do I really want to know this, type of lessons over this past year. Attending school, the early morning bus rides the late night studying, the lack of sleep, becoming  just roomates with my husband, loosing connections with important relationships, feeling like I've lost myself to I don't know who. It has been a sacrifice for me and my family. I have been stirring too many pots and nothing tastes good in the end. I am thankful for the experience. I am thankful that I it only took one year for me to get a small grip, I know, God will have to continue to teach me and train me and refocus me, but I'm okay with that, because I know he isn't surprised by me, he knows me, he knows I will lose sight again, but this time, I will also be looking for the signs of this loss of vision, I don't want to have to wait so long to recover my sight next time.

I asked my kids," Do you want mommy to continue or to take a break from school?" Kamari, my eight year old looked at me, cocked her head and said in her compassionate voice, " Well, I want you to be able to finish, because, I know  you want to, but I really wish you were here to do my hair in the morning, I feel like I go to school looking all messy." She was right, I was sending her to school looking a little mess. Kamari, has beautiful, big, thick, curly hair, and she has tried really hard to learn how to do it, and she has done well for the most part, but I would do a style and then I would look at her a week or so later and tell her that I was going to do her hair, but then I would need to study or do this or that. Since I left so early in the morning it was left to her and my husband to figure out her hair.

I also asked my son Jamison, who is five. He said, " Stop! Stop! I want you to Stop! I said why? he responded, "because I want to snuggle with you all the time, I want you to be home" I was "home" most of the time, but I wasn't "present". I didn't have time for sitting and snuggling, I would do that later. At least that was my mentality at the time.

I for the time being, maybe forever am choosing to discontinue my schooling. I know at this time in my life, that I could,(but it would mean too many sacrifices), do both. I can do a lot of things. I am good at multitasking. However, I shouldn't at this time. My family is too precious to me. I want to be present and pour myself into my family. I married the love of my life. I want to love him, enjoy his company, laugh with him etc. I want to have time in the morning to see my kids off to school to do Kamari's hair and make sure she leaves with a smile on her face. I want to snuggle with Jamison and Jeremiah and be able to be consistent and present with my two wild little boys. And, for me I need sanity. I want to write poetry and short stories again. I have maybe written two things in the last year. I know this is the balance I need. I know God has given me this gift and I want to cherish it. I want to smile and laugh. Everyone keeps telling me that this time, when my kids are young goes by so fast. I guess I'm tired of watching from the sidelines, I'm ready to play the game, get in there and make some memories, get some team spirit going.

When Tim was trying to get my attention, and eventually told me stop. It made me think, about how many times, God has tried to get my attention and told me to "stop". The funny thing is, Tim just wanted to give me a gift. I called him the other day and told him, that the greatest gift he gave me, was his telling me to"stop" I told him it started a chain reaction in my life and I shared with him, all that had transpired since then.

I know God calls me to stop sometimes because he wants to give me a gift, and sometimes that gift isn't the obvious one, it's the one, that we have to have our eyes opened to see. I thank God for opening my eyes. I have so much peace in my heart. I am even breathing better. It's difficult for me to let go of school and certain things, but at the same time, God has my heart, he sees my future and I am trusting him to guide me in the path he has laid for me, as I honor him, with what he has already given to me.

The Great Sweep

I was sweeping the floor this afternoon, and although it didn't look too bad, I was surprised by how much dust, little pieces of whatever, food crumbs, toys and other miscelaneous items filled the dustpan. If someone just walked into my house, they would have been surprised that my floor was so dirty, even though it wasn't so obvious.

I love sweeping, because I love the before and after effect. Even when the floor doesn't look "really dirty" you know it is, and after you sweep, you see the difference and feel the difference when you walk on your hardwood floors and a bunch of crumbs don't adhere to your socks or bare feet. It's a good feeling. I will admit sometimes though, that sweeping is a bit overwhelming at times. At times it seems like I could sweep forever and never get every piece of dust or crumbs off the floor. I've had those times, when I swept the floors and then mopped, only to realize that I missed a pile or forgot to sweep one corner, then to clean that area only to find more stuff falling off the broom onto the newly swept and mopped floor.

I used to mop my floor a couple of times a week, trying to keep it clean, clean, clean. I usually sweep everyday, because if I don't it really builds up, with five people eating, walking and carrying things in from the outdoors on a daily basis, the dirt builds up.

So, as I was sweeping today, my heart made a little connection to, "The Great Sweep" that has happened in my life, and the mini-sweeps that happen on a daily basis. My life is the dirt, crumbs, toys, dust, little pieces of whatever strewn about. I try to keep myself together, dust the cobwebs of my life, pick up things that spill, throw away my trash, but even sometimes after I sweep really well, or mop with a good cleaner, there is still that pile that I miss or that dust bunny that just drops from the broom onto the newly cleaned floor.

And at times trying to keep my life, my heart, my mind all swept up and in perfect order is nearly impossible. It seems that my kids can go for days, even weeks without spilling something on the floor, that is until I decided to mop the floor, then for some reason, they will spill that day and the next, and I feel frustrated because, I just cleaned the floor, and now it's all sticky and messy, and I have to clean it again, and I don't want to...

For me, that is life in a lot of ways, we clean up really well, or so we think and then, we mess up our lives, or someone messes with our lives and we feel overwhelmed, or frustrated with ourselves and others, and we feel like we are a huge mess. I have by the grace of God accepted the fact that I  needed, "The Great Sweep" in my life. For me, " The Great Sweep" was Jesus and his death on the cross. When he died he took all my dirt with him, all my mess and swept it up, then threw it away. When He showed me the pile of  my life and asked me if it was mine, I agreed it was mine, but that I didn't need nor want it. He told me he could sweep it up and do away with it, something I could never do on my own. When he rose from the dead, not only was He alive,but I was made alive too.

His death and resurection changed the way I needed to clean my house (my life). Now that I have experienced, " The Great Sweep" in my life, I don't try to get every corner immaculate, every dust bunny cleared, every piece of dust swept up. I know that I can't, I will never be able to see it all. I know my eyes don't see me as God can. I can look at my life, and think, " oh, it's not that bad, I don't see too much dirt" However, I know God has seen all my dirt, and he has done away with it all.

Even though God has cleansed my life, I still collect dust, junk, crumbs, I still need a good sweep, but I don't do it myself. When I look around my life and see that it's all piling up again, or when I look around and think everything is just fine, and I don't have any dirt, it's a good time for me to ask God to inspect my house, my life and sweep up whatever he finds, that isn't pleasing to him, to lift up the rugs and show me what's underneath, to point out the piles, I have missed and to do away with it. This is my confession to God that my life apart from him, will always be a mess. It's also my confession of faith, that I believe He can handle my mess, and would like him to do so.

The Great Sweep is my salvation, it gives me the freedom to live my life with a desire to please God, to make mistakes, knowing the one who sees it all will not reject me, knowing, I can confess my mistakes, my neediness, my brokenness to God and he will act accordingly. He has given me the freedom to live a life of purpose and grace, knowing, I am free, forgiven, loved and that I belong.

Keeping my heart focused, when my world is a bit much...

I feel like I have been going and going, like the Energizer bunny the last few months. I have been overwhelmed and feeling a bit down. I am reminding myself again today, that even when my life feels like too much, maybe it is, and maybe that's okay. I am letting God in on my little secret, I'm going to share with him, that I'm overwhelmed, and in need of some TLC. I choose to keep my heart focused, even when all around me seems to be just a little bit shaky.

Your love

When life comes rolling at you, like a mighty tidal wave
and everyone around you, seems to have un-shake-able faith

You want to run and hide, but shelter can't be found
You finally surrender, on the cold, hard ground

And it's amazing, the grace that washes me
It's amazing, the beauty that I see
It's amazing, more than I can dream

It's amazing, your faithful love for me.

Charissa Carroll 2010

Little Miss Excuses has an " Aha" moment or two!

I am having " Aha" moments, left and right these days. I don't always like them, but I am thankful that I get them and most of the time am willing to learn the lesson being taught. This year my eyes have really been opened to the amount of excuses I make. I'm not saying the excuses I make aren't valid, most of them are... well, okay, just some.

The thing is, they feel very valid to me, based on the way I think and the way I like things to be. Deep down, I'm kind of a loner. I like being with friends and family, but I also like to be alone. I like one on one time with people and I like events that I can go to and get lost in, which means not noticed, but be there, without really having to be present.

When I am with someone, or doing something, I like to give my full attention. If I think that will be a problem, I usually try to not do that thing or be with that person. I realize I am always looking to make things perfect, I try to set everything up, to work out as planned and so that it is controlled. I have grown a lot in this area, I have learned to go with the flow a little more than in  my past, but this is a continual, situation by situation test for me.

Recently a good friend of mine was planning on coming down for a night and hanging with the family. We made plans months ago and it was pretty much a done deal. As the day started drawing near for her to come down, I started getting overwhelmed. Now, this is a friend I have known for almost ten years, we know each other, we laugh together, cry together, exercise together, she's watched my kids, and we don't feel the need to try and impress each other. We can just be ourselves. Well, I still had a hang up. My house was a mess, and my kids still wake up at night. I didn't have a plan for a good dinner, cause it was the end of the month and we were just eating what was in the house. I was overwhelmed with things, I thought needed to be done before she could come. I wanted to be able to be present, but it didn't seem possible.

I was certain that if she came, I would not be able to sit and talk with her, because there were so many other things to do, and she couldn't come for dinner, because we were probably just going to have peanut butter and jelly, and the house was messy and I needed to make up a place for her to sleep and what if the kids woke her up at night with their waking up. My plan was to call her and tell her that it wasn't going to work out for her to come, and that she should just come the next day in the morning.

I knew that canceling was lame, but it felt like the only option. I prayed and asked God to help me not sabotage our plans based on my excuses. I called my friend and told her that we have option " A" and option " B". I then began to tell her all my excuses as to why she couldn't come. She listened and we talked about it. As I heard myself talk, each excuse sounded so absurd, but I really needed to tell her my genuine concerns, so that I could hear myself say them and hopefully let them go.

She almost gave in to my excuses and said she didn't want to stress me out, but that she would just come the next day. She told me, she could help if she came and the she wasn't needy or expecting anything grandiose. I knew everything she said was true.I told her that I wanted her to come. I told her I needed her to breakthrough my excuses with me and tell me that it would be okay. I know it was kind of difficult for her, because this isn't the first time I have done this to her.

We talked some more and ended up laughing a little. She said she would come around 6:30 so that I wouldn't feel stress about making a dinner for her. We then got off the phone. I looked around in the cupboard and discovered that I could make spaghetti, I called her back and told her to come for dinner and since she offered earlier to bring something, I took her up on that and she brought a salad.

During the day I handled my business, all the things, that I thought I just had to do, and you know what? It wasn't as crazy as my brain hyped it all up to be. My friend came, we ate, we made some healthy treats, we laughed, we talked, and it was great.

Here are a few things I realized about excuses.
1. They usually only take the person giving the excuse into consideration. Although I thought I was doing her a favor by not having her come to my messy, low budget dinner house. I wasn't thinking about how she had set this time aside in her schedule, or how maybe she needed some time with me and my family. I originally only thought of myself.

2. The excuses are just that, excuses. Even when they are valid, if we sit down and ask ourselves what they are really about, it's usually, at least for me, about control, or just and excuse to not have to do something I need to do. If you really don't want to or can't do something, just say " no", I think we justify ourselves a little too much anyway, but when you say yes, do your best to keep it a yes.

3. Excuses, may excuse us from what we don't want to, or feel we can do, but they also excuse of from growth in those areas, when we just keep on making them.

This was just one example of my  "Excuse Aha Moment" I encourage you to have one of your own. Growth is difficult, because it stretches us, but it was great to see, that my excuses didn't really hold too much weight and I would have regretted missing that precious time with my dear friend. If you have a friend that makes excuses all the time, be a tough-love kinda friend for a minute and don't let them get away with it, they will thank you in the end and one day you may need the favor returned.

Woogie

My son Jeremiah knows his name. He is going through this phase where he only wants to be called, Jeremiah, or as he says, Weramiah. I say to him, " Hi baby!" and he says, No, Weramiah. I call him a woogie woogie, when he's doing something sneaky and he says, No, woogie, woogie...Weramiah. Somtimes, he agrees with me, that he's still my baby,and other times, he's just Weramiah.

I think it's so cute that he is taking ownership of his name. He's too young to take ownership of being a woogie, woogie, but he knows that he's acting out, when I tell him he's being a woogie, he even gets mad sometimes, and other times, he thinks it's funny.

I'm into thinking a little deeper these days. And, I think pretty much every moment of the day, we have an opportunity to grow a little more, learn a little more, change a little more. I started thinking about my name, or the names I have allowed myself to be called. When someone, or myself calls me by a name other than my own, I don't usually respond and say, No. My name is Charissa.

Too many times, I have answered to a name that didn't speak truth about me, or it spoke truth but only in a way to condemn me. We all have struggles, we all have to take ownership of the truth about ourselves, even when it doesn't feel good. I guess the difference is, there's truth about ourselves, that when revealed, can bring humility, repentance and growth, and there's truth's that are meant just to destroy us, because they are mixed with lies, but we don't know the difference. This is when we need to know our name, this is when we need to say, No, woogie woogie, my name is Charisssa! My name is forgiven, my name is overcomer, my name is...this is where we need the confidence of a two year old.

I am more aware of lies, lies from the world, the devil, myself, and others than I ever have been. It's so easy to slip into old identity's, ones that we have given up, or thrown away, or asked God to deal and heal. What do I really know about myself? Do I know enough to have a come back like my two year old son, and say who I am? When the urge to pretend I have control, comes in the form eating junk food, can I call myself a woogie, woogie and eat anyway, or can I say, " Charissa you are not on overeater anymore," don't give in to the false sense of control. When I hurt someone and they confront me, can I take ownership and apologize, knowing that my mistake doesn't define me, but how I respond will definetely leave an impact.

I'm just thinking about how we change and how easy it is to be labled even when the contents have changed. Have you ever had a nice jar full of jam or peanut butter, and when the jar was empty you washed it out and filled it with something else, but the label of what used to be in there was still on the outside? I think that's how life is, we are constantly changing, we get makeovers and new things spring up inside, old wounds are healed and sometimes new ones take their place.

However, the label that says " jam" or "peanut butter" is still on the outside, even though the contents have changed. And it takes a keen eye, and an opening of self for other's to see that what you see is not what you get. Often times, we want people to just automatically notice our change, but if you see a jar in the cupboard with a peanut butter label, unless you open the jar and look inside, you will never know it's not peanut butter.

I know it's important to be open, and share ourlives with one another. In this way, we can share our stories of transformation, growth, deliverance, healing. We can share laughter, hope and love, but only if we open up and recongize our name, and take ownership of our wooginess.

Tweeting God

I don't know why it seems so hard to pray. I have a few guesses, but I'm sure there are a lot of reasons. I think I sometimes avoid praying because, I'm afraid that God will require too much from me. What if I go into my room and plan on praying for five minutes and then a bunch of people come to mind and I begin to pray for them, and then things come to mind about myself and I have to face them, and then before I know it, hours have passed, and all I've done all day is pray. Would that really be such a bad thing Charissa?

I think the fear of praying beyond, a blessing at the dinner table, or a quick, help me Jesus, is really, at least for me and issue of intimacy. It's beautiful and scary in some ways to be close to God. He sees all things, knows all things, hears all things. He already knows what's on my heart before I pray it. Then why does he need me to pray? Why can't he just read my mind? I know when I hear myself pray, it reminds me of my brokenness, my pain, my joys, my needs. When I pray, I take ownership of my stuff and then I am able to ask God to heal me, help me, encourage me.

I pray all the time during the day, little shout outs to God, about this or about that. I pray before meals and when I'm stressed or struggling. These are my little one liners to God, these are my tweets to God. The thing about only tweeting God, is it's pretty shallow. Most people don't tweet their whole life story, they just give little blurps to the world.

I guess tweets are fine and good, for people you don't know or those whom you only associate with on a tweeting level. However, God is not just someone that I want to tweet. He needs my blog, he needs more of what's going on in my soul, not just where I am, or how I feel, or what I just ate.

Today, I wanted to be more intentional about conversing with God. I realize tweeting God is okay, but it's not enough. God is an intimate God, he wants relationship. He has things to share with us, and desires to put on our hearts.He has blessings and healing and deliverance, strength, encouragement and so much more.

I know, I need to allow God more space in my life. I want him to be active in my life, but I don't think the proof is always there. Today, I decided that my tweeting life with God, needed to go a step further. I know that I don't need to be afraid, that God is going to take all my time. That fear showed me, that I really needed to spend some alone time with God, because I needed to work through the barriers that kept me from fully opening myself up to God in prayer.

My husband and kids were all home, and I knew that if my kids saw me leave the room they would come find me, so I snuck back to my room, kept all the lights off, knelt on the floor and put the blankets over my head, this way when Jeremiah, my 2 1/2 year old came to find me, he wouldn't see me and distract me. I decided a good way to break the ice and deal with my fear was to pray the A.C.T.S.

A  is for Adoration it was good to just honestly sit and think over my life and praise God for who he is. I used to just say all the things, that I thought I was supposed to believe about God, but this time, I searched my heart and used words that were true and real to my experience with God, and it was different and good this time.

C is for Confession I again searched my heart and things began to come to mind, some things about myself, that I didn't really want to think about, but C is for Confession, so I confessed them and there was peace and forgiveness.

T is for Thanksgiving, I thought about  how God is so cool and a great listener, and how even as I sat there, he was there, he wasn't making me feel guilty about only tweeting him the last few months, he was accepting and open and forgiving and present. It was so good to feel and know that I can always come before God, regardless. I needed that reminder.

S is for Supplication, it's interesting after all of the above, it isn't hard to end with supplication. I need a lot of things from God. This was a time of being honest about my needs and fears and concerns for others. It was a great time of listening to my heart and verbalizing it to God. When we hear ourselves pray and ask God for what we need, an expectation is then created and that encourages faith and God is pleased by our faith. He's a good God, he knows how to give good gifts, and I 'm not talking about material things here, although God provides our daily needs too.

My time of prayer only lasted about 15 minutes( Wow, God didn't drug me and make me pray for hours (lol), I guess those fears were unfounded. I'm sure when people pray for a long time, they want to, and enjoy being in the presence of  God, it isn't burdensome.) This time of prayer for me was perfect and refreshing, it made my day worthwhile. I have experienced long prayer times and they are refreshing and life giving as well. I'm open God, to your time.

 We don't have to clock hours with God, but it makes sense to, if we want to know him and know ourselves better. I don't feel afraid anymore. My desire is to do this daily. I need it. I need God. Spending time with him, where I can share my heart  and listen to his, is what is going to hold this woman together, God give my life it's ultimate purpose.

Outside Hospitality Packs assembled...

I was out at the store last night. I saw a man lingering in the parking lot. It was late. I could tell he wanted to ask those of us getting in our cars for spare change or something. He seemed to pause them move on. I was trying to think if I had anything to give him, then I remembered that I said I was going to make O. H. packs, my Outside Hospitality Packs. It's the end of the month and I don't know about you but money gets tighter at the end of the month. I went to the store today to pick up a few things for Thanksgiving and knew I needed to buy some items for my O.H. packs. I wanted to, but at the same time, I was thinking that I couldn't afford to do it right now.

I decided I could afford to do something. So, here are my first O.H. packs. They are simple for now. Each one is in a ziplock bag, and on the outside, I wrote, "God Bless you!" the contents are; bottled water, Jack's links beef stick, crackers w/peanut butter, a granola bar and $2.50. I figured you need at least $2.50 to buy something decent to eat with all the new taxes on food. My goal is to make 10 of these a month.

Each month I will vary the contents, in December I would like to put in some gloves, tissue, maybe I will bake some cookies. My goal is to be, "ready to give," I know that I need a plan. I'm not saying I will never give anything besides these, but this is where I can start. This is my way of handling strangers who approach me for change and things. I want to give. I care about these people. I want them to know someone cares. I pray they sense God's love for them. Maybe I will include some resources for shelters, churches etc. too.

Because of who you are...

I threw a fit the other day. I'm glad I was alone in the dark car, because if anyone saw me, I'm sure they would have been wondering what was wrong with me. This week has been long and I have studied math more in the last few weeks than I have my entire life. I am really trying to do everything that I can to pass my math class.

I received a call the other day from a friend, and she was sharing some things that God had put on her heart. She really encouraged me by what she was sharing. She was talking about how, everyday we have a new opportunity to praise God. Each and every day God's grace and mercy are new for us. When we go through hard times, we need to remember it's not all about us. We need to stay focused and praise God daily.

I agreed with her and we talked a little more then we got off the phone. The next day I was coming home from getting some math help from a friend. My kids had been home all day, because they were sick. I was trying to hurry back home, so my husband could leave and do what he needed to do. I decided to stop by the store to pick up a roasted chicken, to make dinner easy. I ran in and went through the self-checkout. After I had rung my items up, I realized that I didn't have my wallet. I was frustrated, because I wanted something easy for dinner, and I was hungry and tired.

I looked in my purse and pulled out my checkbook. I wrote the check and was feeling relieved until the cashier asked for my  license, I thought I wouldn't need it at the self-checkout. I was wrong. She wouldn't take my check and I was frustrated again. I ran out in the cold rain to my car. I got in, turned the key and guess what ? My car wouldn't start. I tried a few more times and it still wouldn't start. I was even more frustrated. I was wondering , why is this happening? I'm tired. I''m hungry. My husband is waiting for me to come home. I have homework to do. I 'm cold. I  just don't need this. I hate this car.... I was thinking a  lot of things, and none of them were joyful.

I called my dad, cause he knows what to do in situations like these. However, the solution he gave me, was not what I was expecting to hear. He said, " Praise God Charissa." I said, " why?" He said, " just take a few deep breaths, calm down and give God some praise." I told him, that I didn't want to praise God right now, I just wanted my car to start, plus why would I praise God for this. I was talking to him and telling him how much I didn't need this to be happening right now. He told me to just do what he said and my car would start, he was kind of laughing at me, because I was so frustrated by his suggestion. He told me to call him after I praised God.

I hung up the phone and was not very happy. I told God, that I thought it was ridiculous to praise him for my car being broke down in the parking lot of Alberston's on this cold rainy night. I told God what my plans were and how this was ruining them. I told God, how tired and hungry and annoyed I was. I was stomping my feet as I was talking to God and wiggling my body in irritation, this was my fit. I was mad my dad told me to do this. I love God, I praise him, but not for things like this.

As I was having my temper tantrum with God, I felt myself relax a little. I knew there was truth to what my dad was saying, but it just seemed so out of place. What was there to praise God for right now? I continued to tell God, almost sarcastically why I wasn't going to praise him right now. I told him that I wasn't thankful that my car broke down or that I was cold etc...That lasted for about five minutes. I then was more calm and I started telling God what I loved about him, just a few words and I told him that I couldn't praise him for my broke down car, but I would praise him that he even though my car wasn't working, didn't change the fact that he was still reliable, and I thanked him that my situation didn't change his love for me. I thanked him, that he was still faithful even though I was struggling.

I then tried to start my car, my dad said that if I took some deep breaths and praised God, that my car would start. It didn't start. I called my dad and said, " there I did what you said, and my car didn't start!" he said, " praise God some more."  We got off the phone. It hit me then, that I still had an attitude and I wanted God to be a genie for me. I wanted him to be instant and under my control. I wanted him to be convenient. I told  God all these things. I confessed my desire for him to be a quick fix and I confessed how rebellious I felt towards him. I told God, that I was ashamed of how hard it was for me to praise him, when I didn't feel like it, when I didn't feel he was worthy of any praise, because he put me in this inconvenient situation.

Wow! was what I was thinking as I heard myself talking to God. I am pretty shallow here, I thought. I only praise God when things are easy. I don't think I love God as much as I trick myself into thinking I do. I began to give God some real praise, truth from my heart, not just words. I sang a few worship songs and felt a great peace. I turned the ignition and the car started. I called my dad, and he was not surprised. I drove home.

I am so thankful that God cares enough about me, loves me enough to teach me hard lessons. I really believe that  God set that situation up. He needed my attention, and I have been so busy. He got my attention and I was humbled. That time in the car has changed me, and I know it's just the start. I have a lot more lessons to learn. I am so grateful that my God is willing to go there with me and show me my deficits, while still loving me and showing me his grace and mercy.

I realize I need to praise God, because of who HE is, not based on how I'm feeling or what's going on in the atmosphere, but because He doesn't change based on the atmosphere. He is faithful, steadfast, holy, patient, caring, loving and a bunch  more things. So, I praise him because he is always who he is, regardless of what may be going on in my little world.

NAACP | Help Free the Scott Sisters

NAACP | Help Free the Scott Sisters

I encourage everyone to have a hand in justice. Now is the time to make a difference. All it takes is you signing your name and maybe, by the grace of God, these two women will be made free. Put your power to a good cause, imagine if this were you. Lord have mercy!

Please click on the link, to participate. This is a matter of life and death.

The Clouds and The Rat

The weather has been something else these last few days. The wind was quite a mess last night. I'm thankful, my power didn't go out. I love the sound of the wind. I'm so tired tonight. I will have to keep this entry super simple. Here are some poems I wrote just for fun, I think it was a quick poem writing contest with my little brother and sister and nephew a while back.


The Clouds

Full of rain and sun
and cats and dogs
and flies and frogs
my clouds
your clouds
so loud
shouting thunder
I'm down under my covers
so scared
but it's alright
the clouds have left for the night

Charissa Carroll 2009

Slick Rat

So slick, dirty
fat, greasy
catching you
never easy
so fast and ugly
so freaking fugly
come to me please
I have cheddar cheese
come slick fat rat
I wait...
tit tat
I got the rat
how's that!

Charissa Carroll 2009

Lessons in Living ( Gonna have to Push part 2)

I have learned a lot about myself in the last two months. More than I had really hoped to learn, and harder than I had hoped it would be taught. I have always known that I don't like to ask for help, I have tried to avoid needing help most of my life. That isn't to say I haven't received help or that I haven't needed it, I just have tried my best to not ask hoping  the need would  just goes away all on  it's own, or somehow get resolved without help.

I have a lot of deficits. I'm seeing them more and more these days. A few months back, I decided that I was going to say, " yes Lord," to God every morning.  I wanted to say "yes," to God's will for my life on a daily basis and "yes," to being obedient and "yes," to all the fun things of living. I hadn't planed on my "yes Lord," being taken so seriously by God. He took it seriously and  I didn't really recognize his hand in all of  what I call, " my madness," until my friend who has been tutoring me in math, said to me, that she really thinks that God is doing something in all of my struggles with math.

Surprisingly and really not surprisingly at all, God was and is at work in all of my math mess. I have had to honestly look at myself and my efforts, and determine if I really was doing all that I could to succeed. The answer, the honest answer was a big fat NO! I was stuck and didn't know how to figure the problems out. I was hoping that without studying or asking for help that I would just wake up one morning and it would all be clear to me. I woke up morning after morning and well, it didn't become clear. What did become clear to me, was that I was struggling and the need was beyond me.

My husband kept encouraging me to ask for help. I told him that I would, but then I wouldn't call the people I knew would help me. I didn't want to burden them with my problems, they were busy themselves, what if they couldn't help me? I didn't want to waste their time. What would I give them in return? What if I needed too much? These were all of my  excuses.

I usually give up when things get too tough, but I also don't usually start things that I can't do on my own. I was confident when I signed up for my current math class, I had gotten A's in the last two math classes, I figured I would be able to do this new class just as easily.

I didn't know what to do with myself when it got hard. I wasn't prepared for it to be difficult. I want things to be easy. I like being in control. I like people needing me, more than me needing them. I felt like I was in crisis. I felt overwhelmed. I felt too needy, and I didn't like the feeling at all, but the truth was... I was needy and I am needy. I  have been trying to fool myself all these years into believing that I am not needy. I can do things all by myself. I think subconsciously I believed that if I couldn't do it alone, for myself , then maybe it wasn't worth doing.

God has opened my eyes these last few months. He has shown me that I can't do everything by myself, I was never meant to. He has shown me that he can handle my neediness. I don't know if I am going to pass this class in the end. I do know however, that I can truly say from this point on that I am going to really do everything that I can to try and pass. I have been asking for help and it's been very rewarding. The connections are being made in my brain, and I'm understanding things in math, that never made sense before. I feel smart for the first time in a long time, even though I have failed three math tests. I feel changed and excited about trying new things, but most of all I feel liberated from the pressure I had been putting on myself. The pressure to be capable all by myself. I'm not. I'm not supposed to be.

I shouldn't, but I do still get surprised how involved God is  in our daily lives. He cares about the little things, just as much as the Big things. He's known this whole time that I was going to need to learn to ask for help, learn to trust a little more, and believe that He could handle my neediness. I am more aware than ever before, that we need God, we need each other and that this journey through life is not meant to be traveled alone. I see in a clearer way that I can trust God even more and that he won't fail me. I don't have to give up when things get beyond me, I have to give up the lie that tells me, that I have to handle it all  myself.

Wicked, Wonderful Words!

I'm not one of those people who believes, that I can speak my destiny into reality, but at the same time I am. Only in the sense that what I think and say about  myself does become my reality. What I think I can do, I do. What I think is impossible, becomes impossible to me, not because I couldn't do it, but because I never tried. I know from years of experience that my own thoughts have power, for good and for bad. The Bible says that life and death are in the power of the tongue.

I wrote the poem below back in August of 2006, I don't remember what motivated it other than my own thoughts around the power of words. Words do become our actions. We have all read stories, or have our own of being unable to move forward, or make change, or even believe we were smart or capable, based on what was or wasn't said to us.

I again, want to be more conscious of how I speak to myself and others. I would like my words to bring life and not death, encouragement and not judgment, hope rather than despair. Words have wings and they fly, and if they are positive they float higher and higher and bring insight and joy to the hearer. However, if they are full of hate or hopelessness they also fly and hide and cocoon themselves only to birth doubt, and despair. Let's use our tongues wisely and let's speak the peace into this sometimes crazy world. With each breath we have a new opportunity.

Life Spelled Out

It only takes a few letters put together to make a word
It only takes a few words in an orderly fashion to make a sentence
A word or sentence
Spoken or implied
Can speak paragraphs and essays
To the mind and heart
A word of  PEACE or HOPE, spoken in LOVE
Even a simple line of encouragement
Can change things, and lives, now and for generations to come
Words affect our lives
The HIT us!
RUN into us!
SMASH us!
and at times CRUSH us into itty-bitty pieces
They LIFT us
EMPOWER us
Help us SOAR or DIVE  and...
if they don't jive with the truth-
they infest our souls
They cause us to lose hope
and to stop setting goals for ourselves
Words can HEAL or CAUSE SICKNESS
They can SET FREE or ENSLAVE
DROWN US or KEEP US AFLOAT
Words, words, words
What do you say or speak into the lives of others?
What do you say to yourself?
You are speaking your D-E-S-T-I-N-Y
one
SYLL-A-BLE
at
a
time

Charissa Carroll
 2006

Flies, flies, flies

A bold fly came into my house today. I followed it around the house as soon as my two year old noticed it came in. I do not allow flies to roam freely in my house. In fact I will stop everything I am doing to hunt it down and kill it. That may sound cruel to some, but I do have a rule regarding bugs. I figure they have the great outdoors to fly, chill, sleep, they can hang around trees, or lakes or the mountains, it's their choice. I have my home and they are not allowed in, once they come in and violate our agreement, I open doors and windows and give them a chance to leave, but if they are unwilling, I take them out.

I think to much about what they are doing. Flies are so dirty. We all know what their favorite thing is and that's too much for me. I don't want them flying around my house, laying eggs, making themselves at home. I couldn't kill the fly that came in today,  I could only trap it. I will let my husband figure out how to kill the fly that's trapped between the window and the screen. I've at least quarantined it, and for the time being it was enough.

I sometimes make interesting connections to things and here  is one of them. I was thinking about that fly and what I know about it, how it makes me feel and it's motivations. I knew it would not be okay for me to let it roam freely in my house. I knew it would keep me anxious and unhappy. I don't always know when a fly comes in, but once I spot it, I go to work following it.

I know it's just a fly, but it made me think about the other seemingly harmless little things, I have allowed to float, fly, crawl, swim into my life. Things that I know aren't good for me, or helpful, things that I know in the long run won't benefit me, but I let them in anyway.

I am thinking specifically about this weight loss journey I am on. I'm thinking about the seemingly harmless food that has made it's way into my body, which turned into pounds, which turned into guilt, which turned into hiding, which turned into despair, which turned into more eating and self-pity. It reminds me of  the old story, " There was and old lady who swallowed a fly." Do you remember how it goes? "I know an old lady who swallowed a fly, I don't know why she swallowed the fly..." It goes on to justify her swallowing a fly to catch the spider and then she swallows a bird to catch the spider and a cat to catch the bird and it goes on until she swallows a horse. Let's think about that, the fly was one thing, but a horse is a whole different thing.

My song would go something like this:

I know a young lady who swallowed a lie
I don't know why she swallowed the lie
Perhaps she'll die

I know a young lady who swallowed some chocoalte
that made her feel happy and numb inside
she swallowed the chocolate to hide the lie
I don't know why she swallowed the lie
perhaps she'll die

I know a young lady who swallowed some chips
they go good with dip,
she swallowed the chips to balance the chocolate
that  hid the lie
perhaps she'll die....

I will just do two verses, I know where my weight comes from. It's not that I love food either. I honestly don't like food, it's just a means to an end. Food has been my choice of drug. It's been a comfort, and escape, something I could control. The access was great, food was everywhere, and it could be eaten in secret. I have lost about 20lbs since January, it's been slow, but it's been real. I have not only lost physical weight, but emotional weight as well. Each pound I lost had a story, one of sabotage, pain, even joy, food was always the answer to whatever I thought I needed. I knew it wasn't what it appeared to be, but it was consistent nonetheless and there whenever I needed it.

I don't swallow boxes of chocolates anymore and I don't chase them down with chips, but mostly I don't swallow the lies anymore. I know the truth of who I am. I know the truth of who I am becoming, and I see the vision of who I will be. She, me ,the one with freedom, doesn't swallow flies for anyone, she catches them as soon as they come in. She isolates them and is aware of the damage to her well being they can cause. This changing me, she is proactive and ready to combat the things that try to sneak their way into her life. She refuses to even consider  being like the woman who in the end swallowed a horse, all because she opened her mouth for the pesky little fly.

This changing me is not alone though. I am surrounded by a group of women, who also once opened their mouths wide for the flies, and lies of this world. Some of us eventually swallowed  our hopes and dreams with our horses. We have a united front now. We refuse to feed our pain, we now nourish our souls. We encourage each other, listen and build one another up. We refuse to swallow flies. Thank you ladies for walking with me, and being my fly paper.

If you love me...

My love language used to be gifts. And oddly enough, I could never receive enough gifts to feel the love. I think because receiving gifts was proof of love to me, I would always notice when I didn't get them. The result being that I would feel unloved. In my adult life, I would be part of groups where we would do "Secret Santa," and in college, we would choose someone's name and for the quarter, give them a note or small gift weekly, just to let them know we cared. I would usually come back from these events, broken-hearted. Why? because my pen pal/secret santa  would have forgotten my gift or forgotten the event all together. It was so sad for me, because I would spend a lot of time trying to make my person feel special and loved. I would be so excited for the day when we would reveal whose secret Santa we were and receive our final gifts. I'm sure the person, who I felt at the time just didn't care about me, had no idea how meaningful it really was to me. I bet their love language was not gifts.

Over the years, I decided that having "gifts" as my love language caused me more sorrow than joy. Gifts are a hard one, because, people forget, they don't always have money and sometimes you can get the wrong idea from a cheap or expensive gift, when they don't mean what they appear to mean.

I know that physical touch isn't my love language. I know I need physical touch, but I'm not what some may call a "Snuggle Bug," type of person, except with my husband and kids, and they could probably use a little more snuggling from me too.(I'm working on that) There are a few other love languages, but I think the two that are most meaningful to me in this season of my life are; Words of Encouragement and Acts of Service.

I don't want to be praised, but I like to know you see me struggling and care. I like to know you like that poem I wrote, or that subject I blogged about. When people who know me, or just meet me say nice words to me, it is the best gift. Words can give you wings, when you don't have legs. A kind word is like warmth to the soul and butter on some yummy bread. Words really do lift us up and in many ways spur us on to good  deeds. It doesn't even have to always be some joyful word  of  happiness or some acknowledgment of something great. I accept words of  wisdom, correction ( with the right spirit) and words that tell me who I am and pull me out of the muck, when I am believing lies about myself or others. I guess it's really the heart behind the words that is the true gift. When someone takes time to share with you a thought about you, good, constructive, or happy they are taking time to care for you, see you, hear you, and that speaks rivers of love to my soul.

The second one for me is, Acts of  Service. I am a get it done type of woman (most of the times, some time, well I want to be LOL). Anyways, I like to finish things and I like things organized, however, sometimes, I stay too busy and lose sight of what's really important. There are other times however, when I just have a lot that needs to get done, and I feel like I am the only one who can do it. I often feel that way because, I do not like to ask for help. I don't like to obligate people. I'm afraid that if I ask for help, I will have to reciprocate and then what if  I can't reciprocate when they need my help. I try to avoid those situations. I also hope that my, " need for help" will just eventually go away if I ignore it long enough. Well, it usually doesn't and I end up putting in way too much time, doing the job of three people or quitting something that I started because I couldn't finish it on my own. God is teaching me a lot this quarter about letting go of that pride and letting people help me. As hard as it was to receive it has truly been a blessing.

I need help, but I like it when I don't have to ask. Well, don't we wish people could just read our minds and figure out our need without having to spell it out? Not realistic. So, Acts of Service, simple ones mean a lot to me. It's not even what's being done, it's the fact that someone is taking a load off my shoulders. It means they know me and they know if they step in, I can step down. They know that I would love to sit and read a book, but I won't as long as the dishes are in the sink, or the room is a mess, or there are a million other reasons.

I guess my underlining desire is to be known and loved, some proof of that is responding to me in a way that I can understand and receive. It's one thing to love someone and another to love them in a way they can recognize. When someone knows you, they see your struggles, and weaknesses and they help, speak, sit with, correct, and encourage in various ways at various times. They assist when you are weak and see through the mask when you are hiding. They get you and you let them in, and then they love you, and you are loved. You know it, and it feels great, and you in turn love back.... and the gift goes on.
  

To give or not to give...

     She caught me off guard, and she was crying hysterically. Her naturally brown face was aged by the years and her open, crying mouth had little proof that teeth once resided there. She smelled of alcohol and was moving very quickly towards me. With tears in her eyes and agony in her voice, in a loud scream- like begging voice she said to me, " Do you have any change for me? Oh, God, do you have any change at all?"...
     It was late and I had just come out of the store. I was putting my keys in the ignition and was shocked when I heard a loud tap on my car window. He was asking me for change. I wasn't rolling down my window. I waved him off. I was irritated...
     I was getting Little Caesar's five dollar pizzas for the family, it was a rainy Friday evening. I was tired. I wanted to get home. The kids were hungry. I had a lot on my mind. The parking lot was crowded. I was turned around in my seat talking to my kids, they were fighting. I was startled when I heard a loud tap on my drivers side window. There she was, wanting me to roll down my window, all up in my window, face almost on the glass. She said, "I'm homeless... I looked at her and put my hand up, basically telling her that I couldn't help her. She looked at me and through the window said, "Wow!". I drove off feeling some kinda way...
     As I walked up, she and a friend were sitting on the ground. They waited until I passed and then asked for some change. I turned around looked in my wallet and handed her a dollar. She looked at it like it was a penny and smirked. I walked away, regretting the giving...

  I have been approached so many times by people asking for money. It doesn't seem to matter where I am. I think I am a beggar magnet. I can't imagine having to beg for money or food. I know it is not an easy thing to do. I'm going to tell on  myself here. I hate when strangers beg me for money, change, food. It really bothers me. I like to give. I consider myself a giving person. However, I think I like to give on  my terms. I don't like feeling obligated, and it's hard to say no to someone when they are just asking for change. Usually everybody has a few coins on them. Am I lying when I say no? Am I being stingy when I only give "the change," they asked for? Is it unchristian of me when I deny them outright? I struggle with this issue.
   Lately I have been trying to figure out what it is I need to do. What is Charissa's responsibility in this matter? What does my heart really say? What does God expect of me? What kind of example do I want to set for my children?
    One main issue that comes up for me is safety. I really don't like grown men approaching me when I am by myself or with my kids. I am a strong woman, so I don't worry that I can't protect myself, I just don't want to have to go there. I also struggle sometimes, because I may have some change, or a few dollars, but I honestly need them. Yes, I have a car and own a home, but there are still times when I am broke or need what I have to provide for my family. There honestly are times, when I feel like I can't just give away my change, because I plan on using the very thing they are asking for in the store they are begging in front of.
     I have given to plenty of people who have asked, but my attitude hasn't been right. I want a right attitude. I think God is more pleased by that than by how much I give. I know he loves these men and women who are struggling with alcohol and drugs and the ones who always need, " bus fare" but never ride the bus. I did decide a few years ago that I wont' give or not give based on what I think they may use the money for. I decided that I don't need to figure that out, it was really just an excuse so I could justify not giving when people asked.
    My husband, the brilliant man that he is told me to just be ready to give. Expect that people are going to ask and have a plan. I'm taking his advice. It's not a grand plan, but it's one that I think will work for me. It's a plan that I think will honor God, set a good example for my children and help me to have a "right attitude" about the whole thing.

    Here is my plan. I am going to make what I call  " O.H. Packs." I practice hospitality when people come to my house, so I will practice hospitality when people come to my car or approach me. The O.H. packs are my,  "Outside Hospitality Packs."
   The Bible talks about giving, (I'm paraphrasing here) it says, " Decide what you will give and then give cheerfully without regret." By creating these packs, I can decide ahead of time and give cheerfully without leaving the situation feeling obligated or angry. I might even begin to enjoy it and, who knows what will come of it.

What will I put in my O.H. packs? Good question. I'm thinking I will use a gallon size ziplock bag and fill it with these items:
 bottled water or juice box
 nuts/ beef jerky/ fruit/
mints/gum
toothbrush/ hand sanitizer
$2.00
maybe a note or something to read

I plan on making 10 O.H. packs a month and being open to giving them away. I'm not sure of everything that will be in them, but I will make them yummy and useful. I hope that the people receiving them will feel loved and valued. I know it's easy sometimes to think that people that beg are "less than," but they aren't they just "have less than we do at the time."

Just thinking

    I wonder what it really means to " seek God."  I wonder what it really means to " know someone."
I have sought God, but I don't know that I have sought him like I would if I were trying to look for something meaningful or precious to me. God is like an onion, he has layers and sometimes they make you cry, but they are good tears and worth it in the end. I know a lot of people, but what's missing. I have tasted, in fact feasted on the Freedom God gives, because I have experienced it firsthand in my life. I have also experienced true friendship, so maybe that is "knowing someone." I want to experiment with seeking God in a more intense way. There is a verse in the Bible that says, " Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you..." There is a context to the verse of course, but I also think there is something more. I want to know what that more is.
   
     I would like to study my Bible more. I went to Bible College and I have an AA degree in Biblical Studies. I think in the past, that I took that to mean, I know the Bible. I do know a lot of what the Bible says, but the Bible is not some book, you read once and then talk about. I'ts like the Never Ending Story, it's alive, as you read it, it speaks to you, it changes you... it's filled with life and  power.

Lord, show me what it means to seek you, and what the added things are. Amen

Struggling

   
   I'm honestly, kind of in a funk. I need some encouragement. I need to encourage myself. I'm getting a little too anxious these days. I'm carrying a few too many burdens on my own shoulders. I'm at times losing sight about what's really important. I know what's really important, but living like I do is not as easy. I need to manage my time better. I need to make sure the things, people, relationships, etc that are essential get nurtured in my life. I'm looking for more balance. I need to take some things a little more seriously, I need to chill out in some areas and I need to laugh more, that's a fact.

     I love to laugh. In my stress management class, it's the tool I chose to work on, to help deal with the stress of life. I tried to just laugh when my son threw up as soon as I cleaned the whole house and we were about to walk out the door. I try to laugh when I work on ten math problems, check the answers only to find they are all wrong, or when a surprise bill comes, or the car won't start when I come out of the grocery store and of course all my kids are in tow.
    Maybe that's not how the whole application of laughter is supposed to work. So, I'm still working on finding the humor in stuff that stresses me out. I have however, just a little bit more than I used too, learned that life will go on, and God is faithful, even in my crisis.
     I wrote the poem below a few years ago, but it's what I need to hear again right now. I'm in that season, where the things I need to do and the energy and motivation I need to have are not where I'd like them to be. I realize I am tired in a lot of ways and I need to give this season and all the baggage that comes with it to Jesus. I'm weary and I know I can't walk any further on my own. God is with us. I know he is waiting for me to admit it's too much. I'm not looking for him to swoop down and rescue me like some Superman, cause I know God isn't about instant fixes. Since he's in for the long haul and invested in our lives, like I wrote about in my post  "Note to Self.". I'm really looking forward to God to sitting with me and reminding me of how much he loves me, I need to do some more reminding of myself, but reading the Bible too. It's crazy how easy I can get sidetracked from what I deem important. I'm so glad God is gracious. I'm also thankful that he is consistent and doesn't mind reminding us when we lose sight of our focus.
     This poem is about resting in God, admitting you are weary, and that being okay.

Wait on You

I will wait on you God
when my feet are tired

I will wait on you God
when my mind is wired

I will wait on you God
when I think I have a better plan

I will wait on you God
when I can no longer stand

I will wait on you God
even if the sun sets and rises

I will wait on you God
I will be blessed by your surprises

I will wait on you God
even when its scary to do

I will wait on you God
You are faithful and true

Heal me, restore me, refresh my soul
You hold the blueprint to my life...I'm letting go.

Charissa Carroll 2010

Note to Self

     I co-lead the Confirmation class at my church. It's a class for mainly 7th & 8th graders to learn the basics of their faith and to better understand the Bible and why they believe what they believe. This year we are studying quite a few things, but one of them is, The Lords Prayer. We are taking it apart line by line to better understand what it is Jesus has taught us to pray.
     This week two words really stood out to me, " Our" and " Father," in class we talked about the significance of calling God, " Our Father." There is a lot to be said about that, but what I have been really thinking about since Sunday is the word, "Our." So many times in my prayers, I pray Lord help my... watch over my... provide for my...I realize I pray to God as if my life is some separate thing from him. I pray as if God is just a witness to my life, but not an active participant in it. I pray like I believe in God, but I don't believe he is with me. I pray like God is some distant figure in  the clouds, rather than a living wonder, a personal saviour, a friend that sticks closer than a brother, a father who cares for the needs of his children, a mother hen who gathers her chicks under her wings, my creator, who has numbered my days and knows the number of hairs on my head. I pray to God like he is just another being in my life.
     How do I do this? I do this by excluding him. I say my life belongs to God, does it really? I'm  not talking about perfection here, or everything in my life being mapped out and organized. I'm talking about my mentality about who God is, what role he plays in my life and how I truly view  him. I know God is powerful, caring, gracious, loving, forgiving, holy, mighty, wonderful. However, do I know that he cares about my kids as much, well even more than I possible could? If that is true, could I pray, " Dear Lord, please keep "our" children safe. Do I believe he wants my marriage to work? If so, could I pray, " Lord, keep "our" marriage grounded in you, and not ours, like me and my husbands marriage, but ours like, God, me and my husbands marriage. Isn't God invested in it too?
     If I pray "our" instead of "my" I'm saying something to God. I'm saying something to myself. I am making a statement about who, I believe God is in my life. I 'm declaring to God, that nothing belongs to me alone. I'm telling him that he is a full investor in this life. I'm telling him I know he's got us! I know he sees me and my life isn't just some recording he watches when he has time. He's not on the sidelines checking out my good plays, he's in the field with me getting dirty, making touch downs, he's with me when I get a penalty and when I don't score. I serve an active God.
    Does God being an active member, guarantee that there will never be any mess ups? Does it guarantee, that my children will never get hurt? That everything will always be perfect? That I won't experience any pain? By no means does it mean that. It does mean however, that each step of the way, I will  know that I am never alone. Each step of life whether good, or bad, painful or joyous, he is there sharing with me in that moment. It means that when rough times come, God is not up in heaven, feeling sorry for me, but he is right next to me,comforting me, singing over me, encouraging me, giving me strength.
     I guess it's just, well not just, but a paradigm shift for me. It's a new way of looking at the activity of this God, to whom I have committed my life. As humans, we half commit, but God, he's game. When he signs his name to us, it's in blood. We are his, through it all, he is faithful.
     I want to quit living life like I just got to survive. I want to live in confidence, that even though the seasons will change and the economy will have it's ups and downs and drama will come and go.... God won't go with that flow, he will stay true to his word, for God his word is his bond. I want to live like I believe.

Natures Goodnight

     I love being outside when it's sunny, but not too bright, windy, but just a little, cool, but not cold. I also love to lie on the grass and look at the stars, as long as there are no bugs.
    Here is a poem I wrote awhile back about nature being like a bedroom.

Natures Goodnight

The stars are out, and I'm ready for bed
I have nowhere to lay my head
So up on the hill, I see a patch
a comforting, inviting, luscious grass
It spreads its arms, and envelopes me
I sleep engrossed in serenity
The earth has made a bed for me
The wind sings me a lullaby
The moon is... my night light
As I wake in the morning, from a natural night
The sun welcomes me with rays of delight

Charissa Carroll
2009

Go with the flow...

     Last Friday, I woke up at 6:17 am. I need to leave the house by 6:30 am to catch the bus and  be on time for class. Lately, I have been slacking because I have not wanted to go to class due to the fact that I am failing the class. I half woke up, threw on some clothes, threw on some mascara, deodorant and quickly ran-walked to the bus stop. I made it on time. The bus was crowded again and some people still had an extra seat to themselves. I sat next to a guy that I remembered from high school. I didn't know him well, I just remember seeing him with the special ed teachers. He really likes to talk, even when no one is listening. He has a lot of good thoughts, but usually the bus driver and the passengers don't want to engage in conversation so early in the morning.
     A few minutes after sitting down, a big older man got on the bus. He was carrying a large bag and a large briefcase. There was  nowhere for him to sit, he really needed two seats. I sat for a moment, hoping one of the men sitting in the front would offer their seat. Another minute goes by, I don't think anyone is getting up. I know I don't like standing in the front of the bus, but the big man currently standing seemed to be struggling so much with all his stuff  that it was impossible for him to even stand comfortably. I said, " Sir, do you want to sit down?" I think he wanted to say yes, but didn't verbally get it out. I saw in his eyes, the answer was a desperate yes!. I got up and told him he could sit. The guy from high school sitting next to me, also got up. The man had a seat. I looked around for an empty seat. There were a few, but they were taken up by peoples bags. I moved toward one woman who was sitting on the outside seat, with her bag occupying the other seat. I asked her if I could sit with her. She kindly replied, "yes," and scooted over.
     We chatted a little and the chatting grew into full conversation. After all we had at least 35 minutes left  on the ride together. This woman began to share about her life with me, her faith in Jesus, her love for poetry, the mountains.The pain of losing her mother a  few years back  to Alzheimer's disease. We talked about ways God had spoken to us and found we had a lot in common. We talked about school. Remember, I barely wanted to go to class, I was feeling like a failure, wanting to give up. Here is this woman, I think she said she was around 50yrs old. She is going to school, accomplishing her dreams, reaching her goals one day at a time. She admitted that in her past she had struggled with  substance abuse, men and just living a decent life. 
     She told me she had a strong faith, that Jesus changed her life, he brought her out of all the madness she was in. I was amazed by this woman's quiet boldness, her shameless credit to God for what he has done for her. Her willingness to admit that the current math class she is taking, she has already attempted to take two other times, only to fail the class both times.
     She had a gutsy-ness about her that  I really admired. I thought about all the things she was saying. I thought about how at age 34, I want to give up cause it's hard. She said in the past, she would just give up when things got hard, but not anymore, she has a vision now for who she is, who she wants to be. After hearing her story, I was encouraged. I had a new hope again.
    Our bus was running late, and despite my quick wake up and jog to the bus stop, I would still be late for class. However, it was all worth it. This woman usually didn't take this bus, but she did that day. On the bus, I asked her if I could blog about her, she said that was fine. We exchanged emails and got off the bus together. We gave each other a hug and said goodbye, hoping to talk and see each other soon.
     I love to hear about peoples lives. I enjoy listening to their stories. I am thankful the bus was full that day, that I gave up my seat. I am thankful for the unexpected blessing of conversation with a stranger. I was encouraged, and challenged that day on the bus. I believe I ended up exactly where I was supposed to sit on that bus that day.
     To the woman on the bus, if you read this. Thank you. Thank you for sharing your seat. Thank you for sharing your life with me. May God continue to bless, encourage and strengthen you in all things.
    

Fear Not

     I think I'm pretty brave, but only when it comes to some things. I have fears just like everyone else. The older I get the better I understand myself and my fears. At this point in my life, I am afraid to fail. I know that at times it has kept me from even trying. The chance of failing sometimes outweighs the chances of succeeding. I have really struggled with my Algebra class this quarter. It's difficult for me, and I don't like that at all. I like to work hard, but I also like to know my work is going to pay off.  I took my Algebra midterm and got a 64%, that's not a good grade. I got a 54% on my last test, that wasn't good either.
     I really need to pass this class, this class is a prerequisite for the classes I really need. I'm afraid I'm going to fail, I almost want to at this point, because trying and maybe still not doing well is scarier to me. I failed and barely passed all my math classes after 9th grade. I admit, I was too social in high school and didn't really have a good understanding of the importance of education. I never asked for help with math outside of the classroom, I just assumed, I couldn't do it.
      Here I am again, 19 years later struggling with Algebra. Here I am again not wanting to ask for help. Afraid to fail. Afraid to obligate anyone to help me, I know people are busy and I know I'm going to need someone with a lot of  patience. I shared this struggle with my weight loss group on Tuesday. After the meeting a friend of mine approached me and offered to tutor me. She reminded me that I had no excuse because she offered and I am not obligating her. I really needed someone to pull me out this time. My husband kept telling me to call and get some tutoring, but I didn't want to put myself out there. I was willing to choose the alternative and just let it be. I'm so thankful my friend stepped up, God knew I was struggling to ask. I have a little hope now. She's a patient person and very nice. I think it's a great start to learning something so overwhelming. In the end whether I have to retake this class or not, I will not let it define me or  limit me( somebody remind me that I wrote this when it gets tough again..(LOL). I need help plain and simple and the fear has got to go, cause is sho' ain't the truth!

Fear ( This is a poem I wrote back in 2006, fear has been my companion way too long)


You cause us to believe you are bigger than Courage
You are able to cause us to be easily discouraged
You seem bigger than life
and hard as steel
You act as if you know God's will
but you don't
you are small
you exist only if I let you
your name is Fear
In Jesus name... I forget you!


2006 Charissa Carroll

A glimpse of salvation on bus # 1

     He was the third one within  ten minutes to not have the bus fare. The first guy stepped on the bus, digging around in his pockets looking for a way to pay, all the while still clutching his plastic bags full of possessions. One of the guys just stood there looking at the bus driver like... sorry, I don't have it. She let the first two on, even graciously gave the first guy a transfer, even though he only paid with an expired transfer in the first place. She loudly, but kindly reminded the second man to remember his card next time, however, I think we all knew that the card he was forgetting, didn't actually exist, but what man wants to claim he doesn't have what he needs to a bus full of strangers, let alone admit it to himself.
     Well... there was one, the third man. He wasn't as bold as the other two. When the bus got to his stop, he stayed on the sidewalk, slightly leaning forward, again with plastic bag in tow and a coat wrapped around his waist, even though it was cold and rainy. In a loud, child like, hopeful tone he asked the bus driver, " Do you... Do you want me to just catch the next bus? I only got a dollar." He dared not step on the bus. He knew he didn't have the correct fare, he knew his deficit. He was so vulnerable right there. Admitting to all, well at least the motley crew on the bus, that he was indeed short, and could not pay to ride the bus, after all, he only had one dollar and the bus fare was $ 1.75, going up to $2.00 on November 1st. Whether he continued to stand out in the rain and cold, was at this point completely up to the driver. She had the opportunity to show compassion or point to the sign and remind him that the bus fare was $ 1.75 and he was short. She looked at him, told him to come on up mumbling to herself ... "cause everybody else already did."
     He got on the bus and sat down. Before he got on,  I could see that he was hopeful and unsure at the same time. Now, I could see that he was surprised and relieved that he was not rejected there in the cold, on this wet morning.
     I call this A Glimpse of  Salvation on Bus # 1, because really in a nutshell, that is what Jesus has done for us. There we stand, cold, wet, hungry, needy, clutching what we have, holding onto it with dear life: our plastic bag full of doubt, shame, hurt, pain, desire, hope...  not really sure of what to expect. Not wanting to put ourselves out there but in some way desperate to be rescued from the place we are in. Then comes the bus... Jesus. It's already full of passengers, what do they think of me, will they want me? Not having the right amount of money, clothes, fame, personality will I be accepted? Then the driver, the one with all the power, to admit or deny, to show compassion or shame, is there and we are at the mercy of the driver.
     God knows we can't pay the fare, He knows we are not okay where we are, he knows we hold tightly to what we know, have...hoping it will be enough, but it usually never is, is it?
    God looks at us and sees our need, our pain, our hope, our doubt. He sees the expressions on our faces and reads our body language even when we don't know how we are feeling. The bus usually stops when they see a person standing on the sidewalk. They don't try and guess ahead of time whether or not the person will be able to pay.
     The bus just stops, cause that is what it is designed to do, pick up passengers, get them to their destination. We don't usually stand at a bus stop unless we want to ride the bus, and at times, we don't want to ride the bus, but we stand there anyway, knowing it's the only way to get where we need to go. That man stood there even though he couldn't pay, he admitted he didn't have what it took to ride the bus, the bus driver acknowledged that, let him on as he was, and never asked for the dollar he said he had.
     His ride was free, and so is God's love, grace, and salvation. Anyone need a ride?

When you don't know "how "to trust...

     A few weeks ago some friends and I were talking about trust. A few days ago my sister and I were talking about trust. I know for me trust has been a big issue most of my life. It's a natural God-given desire to want to feel safe. It's hard to be vulnerable,because it exposes us to pain. However, it also exposes us to joy. I have had to ask God to help me trust, to help me share my heart. God has had to have a demolition crew come and remove the barricades on my heart. I don't like being hurt. I don't like feeling emotionally abused. I don't like putting myself out there and feeling stupid. I want to be safe... always.
    It is not possible to go through this life without experiencing some type of pain. I tried for a lot of years to avoid pain. I did this by not really letting anyone get too close to me. It worked for quite a while. People would just think I didn't like them, and they would leave me alone. I didn't want people to feel I didn't like them, but I also knew it was an effective deterrent, and so I used it. Over the years a few people would slip through. They would see that I  "looked," disinterested in friendship, but they also had the intuition to know, it was just an act. They would keep coming back, engaging me in conversation, smiling at me, even when the smile wasn't always returned. They were consistent in showing me love, even when I looked like I didn't want it, or need it. These are my " soldier friends," the ones who ignored my armor and saw my  heart. It was bruised and broken, hard and dark at times, but their consistent love broke through. I have to joke sometimes with the friends I have given the hardest times too. I also have asked them to forgive me for hurting them with my armor.
      I brought this armor into my marriage, just as I brought it into many friendships. Over time, I have seen myself give up certain pieces, and replace them with peepholes into my heart. My husband and I celebrated ten years of marriage in August. As our ten- year anniversary was nearing, I found myself evaluating our marriage and myself as a wife. In doing so, I realized that most of my armor was gone and that I trusted my husband more than I had ever trusted anyone. It was great to realize some healing had happened. I didn't even really know it was happening as it happened, but just as I like to know how any and every bug enters my house, I also wanted to know what changed in my world of trust.
     I hadn't really tried to figure it out again after the first realization, it wasn't until my girlfriend asked me how I came to trust my husband, that the wonder of it all flooded my mind again.. As I was thinking about her question, I got a visual in my mind that helped me explain what my trust looked like.
     This is how I visual trust:

 1. I give my heart to God. He is literally holding me/my heart in his hands.
 2. I lend my heart to my husband, friends, family through the hands of God. Even when my husband has my heart, God wraps his hands around my  husbands hands as he holds my heart.

So Ultimately God has my heart. It belongs to him. I share it with the ones I love, but God still owns it. I go into this love/trust relationship with my eyes wide open.I also know that God is a fierce protector and that as I get his direction and listen to his leading, he knows when to caution me and give me the green light on giving my heart to just anyone. The other great thing is when someone messes with your heart, they will have to answer to God for that, and you can let God have that issue, so that your heart doesn't get hard and overwhelmed with the pain of  it all.
However, we live in a hurt world and hurt people (all of us) hurt people) so, I need to keep in mind  that;
1. I will get hurt, even if it's unintentional that's just the nature of relationships
2. I will hurt the ones I love, even when it's unintentional

I know it's important for me to go into relationships knowing that  my feelings might get hurt at times and I will at times hurt others. I need to be aware that no one is perfect and so there will, at times be pain and mending that need to take place.

How can I be okay with pain, brokenness, disappointment etc...? I can be okay with all of this, because God has my heart. When I held me own heart, even with the armor on, I still got hurt, experienced pain and needed mending. The problem was I didn't have the skills or tools to mend my own heart, heal my own brokenness or  protect my heart without also keeping love out.
    When my heart needs mending-God is healer
    When my heart needs safety- God is my comforter
    When my heart is getting hard- God massages it and brings back the life
    When my heart needs protection- God wraps his hands tighter around it

I can trust/love in a way now, that I have never known before. It's so liberating and amazing to me. I thank God that he was able to allow me to clearly see what trust can look like, when he's got my heart.



 

What's up with self- sabotage?

Sabotage: A deliberate action aimed at weakening another entity through subversion, obstruction, disruption, or destruction.

     Nothing is wrong. I'm happy. This week has gone well. I've been a little worried about midterms, but other than that, things are pretty good. The weather has been nice. I have exercised pretty consistently this week so far. Kids are feeling better.... but I'm eating like there is going to be a famine. I am ending the first phase of my weight-loss/ lifestyle change plan. For the past 5 weeks I have done pretty well. I have had those occasional times where I sampled something, that was off limits for me, or over-indulged at a restaurant, but for the most part, I have been feeling really good and making good choices. However, as I  am in the last week of the first stretch, something is happening. I liken it to starting a race and making it to the home stretch, seeing the flag for the finish line and then stopping, bending down, untying my shoe laces, then retying the laces from both shoes together, and then trying to run again, only to find that I can barely run, because I have just shortened my stride and removed my ability to run freely. That is what sabotage looks like to me. That is the only thing, if I'm honest with myself that I really think is happening with me right now.
      Most of my life, I have been trying to lose weight. I have not always been overweight in real life, but my mind, now that's a different story. In my own eyes, I have always seen myself as gigantically fat! I have never really seen myself as pretty either. I can look at myself now and like some things about me, but that wasn't always the case. Even starting this blog was a scary venture for me. It is very refreshing, but at times, I feel like I have put so much of "me" out there and it's a little scary. I'm still scared to be successful at weight loss. There I said it, that's my confession. My body is my best hiding place. It feels good to know you always have a place to go, a good excuse, a part of this grand world that you can control. It's scary to think of giving up my security, even though it's unhealthy.
     I want to give it up. I don't know why the feeling of doing well and staying the course and seeing results is so scary. I feel like in the last two days I have tried to gain back the weight I've lost in the last five weeks. It's crazy to me, but at the same time I understand it. I feel like I am trying to refill the space that is empty now, the space that the few pounds I lost use to inhabit. They talk about  muscle memory, I'm talking about fat memory.
     I don't have just extra fat on my body, it's not that simple. I have emotional fat. I have stories to my rolls, they don't just exist because. They have history with me. We were intentional about our growth together, me and my rolls. This sounds crazy as I write it, but it's just how I look at things. That's the great thing about this blog, it's my thoughts, some stuff I usually wouldn't share because it sounds so off. However, I know someone reading this feels me on this, they know their rolls have stories too. Their eating was for a purpose. The pounds at the time were not in vain, but necessary for.... you fill in your own blank.
     The struggle I'm having with all of this is...I'm ready to be done sabotaging my efforts, it hurts my heart that this battle is still so real. I want to finish this race and quit tying my laces together. This is me trying to keep it real. I'm struggling, but I'm calling the problem out, making it plead it's case. The jury is in. Sabotage is guilty of  deliberately trying to take me off course. The good thing is, he's been caught "trying," and now I know to watch my back...
   I get back on the path, separate my shoe laces, retie them and begin a slow jog to the finish line, but not before I grab the hands of some of my fellow runners, and together we make our way forward, careful to watch out for each others laces. For those of you struggling.... stay focused and watch my back, will ya.


   

My husband

     I'm going to brag for a minute. Just a little. I have the very best husband in the world. I can say that because he's my husband and to me he's the best. I wouldn't have any other.( I know, you all hope not) My husband has had to put up with a lot. God knew I would need a great listener. He knew I would need a man with a lot of patience, grace, kindness. He knew I would need a man who could see past the protective armor I wore so many years of our marriage. My husband is gentle, he is a wonderful father and a loving husband. He has forgiven me so many times, when hurtful things flew out of my mouth at him. I have not always appreciated him. I used to think if he would just stop doing this or stop doing that, I would be happy. I was wrong. I was the one that needed to stop doing some things, namely finding all his faults. I used to think that I  wasn't cut out for marriage, too much work, too much talking things over, too many disagreements, him not being perfect in every single way.
     I will admit, it took me a long time to have my " aha moment", I still need to have them on a regular basis. My husband is not perfect, but he's perfect for me. He doesn't do everything the way I want him to, but in a way I respect that because he doesn't need another mother. He isn't Mr. Romance, but I'm not Mrs. Romance either. We are a simple couple. Once we figured out that we could just be who we were together and not compare our relationship to others, we began to find our groove. I don't need chocolate's on Valentines' day to know I am loved by my man,( but honey if you decided to go on and show your love that way, get me See's Candy, the peppermint patties and cashew brittle.) Anyways, as I was saying I don't really need those things...
     I used to look for "proof of love", based on the world's ideas, commercials, movies, everyone else. When I  looked at love that way then I  never really felt loved enough, because that view of love was not true love. I became dissallusioned  looking for the commercial expression of it. When I closed my eyes to the allusion, and opened them to the man I love. I began to see what "his expression of love," looked like. I realized that "he" was the gift to me, and with that realization I was able to then see all the ways he expressed his love for  me on a daily basis. Gratitude fills my heart now instead of disappointment, my disappointment was there because of faulty, unrealistic expectations. It takes both of us to have a thriving marriage. It can't be all him or me. Learning that and taking ownership of that fact has really helped me mature as a wife.
     I have a good man. I love you Malcolm. Forgive me for the times I have taken you for granted, or made you feel less than. You are the one for me. Thank you for ten hard- working, love- filled, worth-it years.