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.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
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
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
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
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?
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?
Monday, October 25, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, October 18, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Finding the Perfect and the Beautiful
At the end of September, I attended a women's retreat. I had a great time. I was able to connect with old friends and make deeper connections with the friends I had come with. The speaker was a woman by the name of Judy Howard Peterson. She was an amazing speaker. She spoke with humor and passion. She shared about her life and some of the struggles she had gone through. One major struggle in her life was a series of miscarriages, about ten total. She talked about struggling with God and her journey through the trying times. The message from her "mess" that she shared with us was, to look for the "Perfect and the Beautiful", that in everything look for the perfect and the beautiful. It seems like it would be hard to find those two things in the midst of such grief and loss, but she did. At the retreat she gave each one of us a copy of the mini footprints, of one of her babies that she lost. Those footprints were so precious, perfect and beautiful.
Her courage to look at something so painful and find something so beautiful really has encouraged me in my everyday life. I often miss the perfect and the beautiful. This past weekend, I finally was able to get into my yard and tackle the madness that the front lawn had become. I finally got the parts to fix our electric lawn mower. I finally borrowed my dad's electric hedge trimmer, I was ready. The sun was out and it was a perfect day to beautify the yard. As soon as I cut one piece of lengthy ivy, I realized to my dismay, that I had also cut the extension cord. As you can imagine, I was frustrated. I went in the house, shoulders drooping to whine to Malcolm and tell him my sorrows. He thought it was funny, he said, " Oh, Charissa you got to see the humor in it," I didn't. I left to get a new extension cord. I went to the local hardware store by my house, I think it's been around since the 1940's. They were so great. I had a new extension cord in my hand, I told the guy working what had happened and he told me to bring in my old one and he would fix it, he said that I didn't need to buy a new one.
It was a beautiful money saving surprise. I ended up working in my yard for about six hours straight. I was like a crazy woman pulling weeds, cutting grass, raking, sweeping, you name it. It became a community event. My neighbors were coming out of their houses and when they noticed that I had one recycle bin for the mounds of yard waste I had piled up, they offered me the use of their yard waste bins. I really enjoyed being outside with my neighbors and their willingness to offer yard waste bins was beautiful to me. I'm sure they were also thankful that I was doing something with my yard too.
Finding the perfect and the beautiful isn't always some grand discovery. Sometimes it's just in the small things, that we take for granted like, neighbors and community. Seeing a need and offering a helping hand. The owner of the hardware store could have let me purchase the $20+ dollar cord, but he didn't, he spoke up, helped out and saved me about $20 dollars.
For me finding the perfect and the beautiful is going to be about finding a reason to be thankful, rejoicing in the midst of the chaos, pain, and dissappointments of life, and always keeping one eye open to spot that flower among the weeds.
Listen
Listen, no I mean close your ears so you can really hear
shut your eyes so you can really see
listen to the beating of you own heart
listen to the air swish
listen to the spider spin its web
listen, listen
not with your ears, but with your heart
see, but not only with your eyes
if you really listen
if you really see
then you can hear the thump and rhythm
and
you can see- if you really see
the sorrows, joys and issues of the heart
of a stranger
as you pass them by
but if in passing- you see the need
let compassion guide your new sight
and live
be
give what is needed
then you will hear the ant walk
and receive the rain like a refreshing shower
while the sun still shines.
Charissa Carroll
6/1/04
Her courage to look at something so painful and find something so beautiful really has encouraged me in my everyday life. I often miss the perfect and the beautiful. This past weekend, I finally was able to get into my yard and tackle the madness that the front lawn had become. I finally got the parts to fix our electric lawn mower. I finally borrowed my dad's electric hedge trimmer, I was ready. The sun was out and it was a perfect day to beautify the yard. As soon as I cut one piece of lengthy ivy, I realized to my dismay, that I had also cut the extension cord. As you can imagine, I was frustrated. I went in the house, shoulders drooping to whine to Malcolm and tell him my sorrows. He thought it was funny, he said, " Oh, Charissa you got to see the humor in it," I didn't. I left to get a new extension cord. I went to the local hardware store by my house, I think it's been around since the 1940's. They were so great. I had a new extension cord in my hand, I told the guy working what had happened and he told me to bring in my old one and he would fix it, he said that I didn't need to buy a new one.
It was a beautiful money saving surprise. I ended up working in my yard for about six hours straight. I was like a crazy woman pulling weeds, cutting grass, raking, sweeping, you name it. It became a community event. My neighbors were coming out of their houses and when they noticed that I had one recycle bin for the mounds of yard waste I had piled up, they offered me the use of their yard waste bins. I really enjoyed being outside with my neighbors and their willingness to offer yard waste bins was beautiful to me. I'm sure they were also thankful that I was doing something with my yard too.
Finding the perfect and the beautiful isn't always some grand discovery. Sometimes it's just in the small things, that we take for granted like, neighbors and community. Seeing a need and offering a helping hand. The owner of the hardware store could have let me purchase the $20+ dollar cord, but he didn't, he spoke up, helped out and saved me about $20 dollars.
For me finding the perfect and the beautiful is going to be about finding a reason to be thankful, rejoicing in the midst of the chaos, pain, and dissappointments of life, and always keeping one eye open to spot that flower among the weeds.
Listen
Listen, no I mean close your ears so you can really hear
shut your eyes so you can really see
listen to the beating of you own heart
listen to the air swish
listen to the spider spin its web
listen, listen
not with your ears, but with your heart
see, but not only with your eyes
if you really listen
if you really see
then you can hear the thump and rhythm
and
you can see- if you really see
the sorrows, joys and issues of the heart
of a stranger
as you pass them by
but if in passing- you see the need
let compassion guide your new sight
and live
be
give what is needed
then you will hear the ant walk
and receive the rain like a refreshing shower
while the sun still shines.
Charissa Carroll
6/1/04
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Gracious Grace, poetically speaking
I've tried really hard most of my life to be perfect. They call people like me perfectionists. I have failed most of my life at being perfect. They call people like me imperfect. I don't try to be perfect anymore. I have actually been liberated from the desire. I don't think it's about perfection anyway, I used to. I believe it's about intent, the intention of our hearts. I know some people still believe that God has given us the ability to be perfect on this side, and I will have to, from experience respectfully disagree. He has given us the ability to be intentional and that with desire makes a pretty good team. I desire to honor God with my whole life. It is my daily desire and I am intentional about it. However, I also have days where I am not so intentional and my desire is sleeping. I find peace in knowing that God sees my heart, even when my actions don't always line up with my original intent. I call it grace. Below is a poem I wrote earlier this year about life, sin, and Gods Grace.
Gracious Grace
You and me, and that crook-ed tree
all meant to be straight, following the path
from the narrow gate.
She ain't supposed to be selling her body to anybody!
And he ain't supposed to be filling his veins with liquid death!
And I ain't supposed to be stressing this heart with these excess pounds of fat!
And they ain't supposed to be sexually amiss!
And he ain't supposed to be tripping as he walks down the street intoxicated!
So wait, let's see! How are we supposed to be?
He knew, He knows, He saw, He sees
that we can and do as we please
that deep down if we look around, it will be found
in our pockets, on our sleeves, on the ground, in the eaves...
It grows with the fierceity of Morning Glory, it's subtle
and pretty, not even thorny, it's sleek
it hides among the flowers, deceitful, it slowly grows
for hours and days, slowly creeping up windows
Because He knew, He knows, He saw, He sees
we don't have to be-
condemned by our weeds
we try to be perfect, we fail, we can't!
it's in our blood, we're natural deviants
Rebellious,, unable, sinful, impure.
The Cure?
He in his glory, sent down his son
He died on the cross
for everyone
The freedom is ours for the taking
there is no line, no ticket, no waiting
come as you are; crooked, dirty, fat, drunk, gay,
even if you sell your body everyday
On level ground, we all kneel before the Lord
He cleanses and washes lives-He restores
In perfection He loves us
in brokenness we love him back
fighting our own demons
trying to keep sin off our back
Wanting to " do right,"
leading, "doing wrong"
in humility we offer him our song
In him there is no condemnation
His blood covers every sin-sation
and it reaches to every nation
seeps through every crack
can dismantle
the sin on our back
In the end at least on this side
we will struggle with sin and anger
with pride and lust
battle our bodies and minds
aim for peace and be way behind
So if you are without sin
cast at me the first stone
and then cast one at yourself
and it will be plain to see
we all walk around scratched and dirty
But.....
because of
G ods
R eedeming
A ttitude
C easeless
E ternal
we will not be consumed by the inferno
His blood is enough
No additives necessary
So in imperfection, and brokenness we serve our God
In humility, in love
we bring him our junk
and our funk
and He loads it
on a truck
and drives away to the dump, deep as the sea
Bumper sticker proclaiming : You are Free!
By Gods gracious grace we can stand
and be.. truly imperfect and wholly redeemed.
Charissa Carroll 2010
Gracious Grace
You and me, and that crook-ed tree
all meant to be straight, following the path
from the narrow gate.
She ain't supposed to be selling her body to anybody!
And he ain't supposed to be filling his veins with liquid death!
And I ain't supposed to be stressing this heart with these excess pounds of fat!
And they ain't supposed to be sexually amiss!
And he ain't supposed to be tripping as he walks down the street intoxicated!
So wait, let's see! How are we supposed to be?
He knew, He knows, He saw, He sees
that we can and do as we please
that deep down if we look around, it will be found
in our pockets, on our sleeves, on the ground, in the eaves...
It grows with the fierceity of Morning Glory, it's subtle
and pretty, not even thorny, it's sleek
it hides among the flowers, deceitful, it slowly grows
for hours and days, slowly creeping up windows
Because He knew, He knows, He saw, He sees
we don't have to be-
condemned by our weeds
we try to be perfect, we fail, we can't!
it's in our blood, we're natural deviants
Rebellious,, unable, sinful, impure.
The Cure?
He in his glory, sent down his son
He died on the cross
for everyone
The freedom is ours for the taking
there is no line, no ticket, no waiting
come as you are; crooked, dirty, fat, drunk, gay,
even if you sell your body everyday
On level ground, we all kneel before the Lord
He cleanses and washes lives-He restores
In perfection He loves us
in brokenness we love him back
fighting our own demons
trying to keep sin off our back
Wanting to " do right,"
leading, "doing wrong"
in humility we offer him our song
In him there is no condemnation
His blood covers every sin-sation
and it reaches to every nation
seeps through every crack
can dismantle
the sin on our back
In the end at least on this side
we will struggle with sin and anger
with pride and lust
battle our bodies and minds
aim for peace and be way behind
So if you are without sin
cast at me the first stone
and then cast one at yourself
and it will be plain to see
we all walk around scratched and dirty
But.....
because of
G ods
R eedeming
A ttitude
C easeless
E ternal
we will not be consumed by the inferno
His blood is enough
No additives necessary
So in imperfection, and brokenness we serve our God
In humility, in love
we bring him our junk
and our funk
and He loads it
on a truck
and drives away to the dump, deep as the sea
Bumper sticker proclaiming : You are Free!
By Gods gracious grace we can stand
and be.. truly imperfect and wholly redeemed.
Charissa Carroll 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Just breathe....
I am a mother. I love being a mother most of the time. Honestly though, I struggle with the time commitment. I like to have alone time on a daily basis. My brain is easily overwhelmed. I don't enjoy being in a large crowd. I prefer one on one conversations as opposed to large group interactions. I like to "zone out" and not have to think about anything. I have struggled with balancing my needs and the needs of my children. I have often asked God if I was really cut out for this mothering thing. I feel so selfish with my own neediness of self. I know that God cut me out for this even though I am overwhelmed at times. I am kind of in that place again, with being in school and my involvement in other activities and my home responsibilities. It all feels like a bit much. I was looking through some of my poetry from earlier this year and found a poem I had written about this very issue. It was good to read again, it centered me and reminded me about what was really important. I know taking care of myself is also important, and I am working on that. I think just like other intense times in life, it's usually seasonal.
Honestly
Please tell me that you struggle too
You've woken up unable and blue
With worries deep as the sea
Wondering, "What will become of me?"
Unfocused in my youth
Too social, to tell the truth
Couldn't see the future clear
A deep canyon from here to there
Wasted time, wasted space
I wasn't sure how the world was laced
Grown up now- wondering how
To redeem the time wasted
Don't want the past duplicated
Three kids in tow, a husband too
Should be happy, feeling blue
Unfocused, with sleepless nights
and sibling fights
and cooking dinner, grocery shopping
and paying bills
mounting up like the hills
just want that education
Going slowly, class by class
Ten years down the looking glass-
that seems lost in the canyon of time
I have a dime, need to make a dollar
Makes me wanna holler!
I want to stand upright, screw my head on tight
Get a restful night and be- free
But, " what will become of me?"
What do my kids see?
I want to be available, and capable
to love, give and sit and play
give thanks and pray
I open the jar that holds my dreams
I hear the wind, it's silent screams
I see the reflection in the mirror
new lines have appeared that were never there
What will become of me?
Not old, only thirty-three
Ungrateful I have been
Not able to see
The beauty of life
been blinded by strife
I shake my dreams from the jar
and hold them in my hands
I call my children
"kids," I say
There's a game I'd like to play
"What is it?" they shout out with glee
It's called, "I'm so glad to have you!"
They look at me strange, confused and confounded
but that's okay
because now I'm grounded
and with a new understanding, now I see
three dreams surrounding me.
Charissa Carroll 1/30/10
Honestly
Please tell me that you struggle too
You've woken up unable and blue
With worries deep as the sea
Wondering, "What will become of me?"
Unfocused in my youth
Too social, to tell the truth
Couldn't see the future clear
A deep canyon from here to there
Wasted time, wasted space
I wasn't sure how the world was laced
Grown up now- wondering how
To redeem the time wasted
Don't want the past duplicated
Three kids in tow, a husband too
Should be happy, feeling blue
Unfocused, with sleepless nights
and sibling fights
and cooking dinner, grocery shopping
and paying bills
mounting up like the hills
just want that education
Going slowly, class by class
Ten years down the looking glass-
that seems lost in the canyon of time
I have a dime, need to make a dollar
Makes me wanna holler!
I want to stand upright, screw my head on tight
Get a restful night and be- free
But, " what will become of me?"
What do my kids see?
I want to be available, and capable
to love, give and sit and play
give thanks and pray
I open the jar that holds my dreams
I hear the wind, it's silent screams
I see the reflection in the mirror
new lines have appeared that were never there
What will become of me?
Not old, only thirty-three
Ungrateful I have been
Not able to see
The beauty of life
been blinded by strife
I shake my dreams from the jar
and hold them in my hands
I call my children
"kids," I say
There's a game I'd like to play
"What is it?" they shout out with glee
It's called, "I'm so glad to have you!"
They look at me strange, confused and confounded
but that's okay
because now I'm grounded
and with a new understanding, now I see
three dreams surrounding me.
Charissa Carroll 1/30/10
Monday, October 11, 2010
Gonna have to push
Got quittin' in my bones
Angst in my soul
Know I got to push myself to places I ain't been known to go
Feeling the weightiness of struggle
the darkness of doubt
My mind is shut, my heart is hurt, I want a way out
Will I push this time?
Or will I quit?
I'm known to say " the hell with it"
It's a mental quit, justifiably excusable
slightly real and partly truesical
Am I gonna push?
I don't wanna!
I want to go- sit in a sauna
and let the heat warm my soul
cause I'm feeling cold and out of control
I need to fight this lie- that's clinging
It's sounding true- in my ear ringing
I know it's false, but it's a way out
I won't have to push, just listen to the doubt
What if I don't give up?
I don't feel I'm able
the cards are stacked
against me on the table
My hubby says to" push"
don't suffocate this life
fight Charissa! Fight, don't give in to the lie!
but honestly I want to, cause it's easier that way
no push, no effort, no new day
It's funny this feeling- when you feel so small
and the world seems so grand
and you struggle to walk, struggle to stand.
I quit when things get difficult. Not all things, but a lot. I make great excuses and they sound very reasonable and most of the time I can get people to agree and then I feel like I did the right thing. I know the truth though. I'm lying to myself ,but when I do it feels safer than pushing through and asking myself the real reason behind my giving up. I feel too old sometimes to be going back to school. I feel like I am just starting my life, when I should have ( there go those should have's again) done this stuff a long time ago. I know I don't have to go there, but this is one of the lies that taunts me when I'm feeling weak and vulnerable and honestly stupid. In the last few years, I have for the first time really felt smart. Completing my certificate in Nutrition really helped me. I did very well in the course and scored high on my tests. I remember feeling smart and it was a new feeling, a good feeling. I have been back in school now again for a while and that feeling was still strong and it motivated me to press on and work towards my BA in Social Work.
I am currently in an Elementary Algebra class. I never did well in Algebra in High school. I either failed the class or barely passed with a D. I tried too, really hard, but I just never got it. Here I am age 34 back in High school algebra at the community college. I am doing horribly. I feel very stupid. Smart girl has been replaced. I took a test last week and got the score today (54%). I didn't pass. I feel like I did in high school and it feels miserable. The rest of the classes I need to take to finish this transfer degree are all math and science courses. I realize I'm gonna have to push to succeed, but I usually don't push. I make a great excuse and quit. I want to quit. I don't want to quit.Quitting takes away the feeling of stupidity, but it also takes away the joy of accomplishing. If I push, I will need to ask for help. I really don't like asking for help. I don't want to need help. And I typically don't ask for something that I can't reciprocate on. What will I give to someone who helps me? What will they want from me? My husband says they will want me to succeed and not everyone expects something for something. Some people just like to give. I will admit I'm struggling. I'm sharing all of this today as a way for me to be accountable. I want to quit, but I know if I don't push this time, it will just get easier and easier to not push the next time and the time after that. I do stand in this world small,and regarding algebra I am weak.Pushing this time is going to be a group effort and as hard as it is I'm thankful that I can ask for help and know many are willing. This is my year of new things, and new things usually come at a price.
Angst in my soul
Know I got to push myself to places I ain't been known to go
Feeling the weightiness of struggle
the darkness of doubt
My mind is shut, my heart is hurt, I want a way out
Will I push this time?
Or will I quit?
I'm known to say " the hell with it"
It's a mental quit, justifiably excusable
slightly real and partly truesical
Am I gonna push?
I don't wanna!
I want to go- sit in a sauna
and let the heat warm my soul
cause I'm feeling cold and out of control
I need to fight this lie- that's clinging
It's sounding true- in my ear ringing
I know it's false, but it's a way out
I won't have to push, just listen to the doubt
What if I don't give up?
I don't feel I'm able
the cards are stacked
against me on the table
My hubby says to" push"
don't suffocate this life
fight Charissa! Fight, don't give in to the lie!
but honestly I want to, cause it's easier that way
no push, no effort, no new day
It's funny this feeling- when you feel so small
and the world seems so grand
and you struggle to walk, struggle to stand.
I quit when things get difficult. Not all things, but a lot. I make great excuses and they sound very reasonable and most of the time I can get people to agree and then I feel like I did the right thing. I know the truth though. I'm lying to myself ,but when I do it feels safer than pushing through and asking myself the real reason behind my giving up. I feel too old sometimes to be going back to school. I feel like I am just starting my life, when I should have ( there go those should have's again) done this stuff a long time ago. I know I don't have to go there, but this is one of the lies that taunts me when I'm feeling weak and vulnerable and honestly stupid. In the last few years, I have for the first time really felt smart. Completing my certificate in Nutrition really helped me. I did very well in the course and scored high on my tests. I remember feeling smart and it was a new feeling, a good feeling. I have been back in school now again for a while and that feeling was still strong and it motivated me to press on and work towards my BA in Social Work.
I am currently in an Elementary Algebra class. I never did well in Algebra in High school. I either failed the class or barely passed with a D. I tried too, really hard, but I just never got it. Here I am age 34 back in High school algebra at the community college. I am doing horribly. I feel very stupid. Smart girl has been replaced. I took a test last week and got the score today (54%). I didn't pass. I feel like I did in high school and it feels miserable. The rest of the classes I need to take to finish this transfer degree are all math and science courses. I realize I'm gonna have to push to succeed, but I usually don't push. I make a great excuse and quit. I want to quit. I don't want to quit.Quitting takes away the feeling of stupidity, but it also takes away the joy of accomplishing. If I push, I will need to ask for help. I really don't like asking for help. I don't want to need help. And I typically don't ask for something that I can't reciprocate on. What will I give to someone who helps me? What will they want from me? My husband says they will want me to succeed and not everyone expects something for something. Some people just like to give. I will admit I'm struggling. I'm sharing all of this today as a way for me to be accountable. I want to quit, but I know if I don't push this time, it will just get easier and easier to not push the next time and the time after that. I do stand in this world small,and regarding algebra I am weak.Pushing this time is going to be a group effort and as hard as it is I'm thankful that I can ask for help and know many are willing. This is my year of new things, and new things usually come at a price.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Understanding my "why?"
In my effort to bring about some healthy changes in my life, I have been trying to become more in tune with the " why" of what I am doing as well as trying to better understand the "why" of my emotional responses to things. I guess I can classify myself as one of those people who have high expectations of myself and others. I want life to be easy and things to always work out. I think at times we all want that. I do know however, that those are not realistic expectations. It took me quite a long time to come to this realization. And before I saw the light, I would say I was pretty unhappy, because I was disappointed most of the time. I see the light now, of course not fully because this life is about new discovery everyday. I wish I could say I never get disappointed anymore and I never judge and I'm perpetually happy, but that wouldn't be true, and I promised to keep this blog honest, so I will stick to the truth, even if I tell on myself a little.
I want to be loved. I am loved. However, sometimes I don't feel it from the people I think I need it from the most. I don't love like I ought to, at times I hold back. So, this questioning of myself has been quite rewarding, emotional and I think the start of a much needed internal renovation.
I had a conversation the other day with someone and I kept thinking about what we talked about. The "subject" wasn't the issue, it was " how" I was talking. I was talking in a way to try and prove something about myself. The person I was talking to wasn't even aware of this, but reflecting on my own tone and words, I realized I had an insecurity in that relationship and I was reacting to it, unbeknownst to me at the time and unbeknownst to the person I was talking to.
I asked myself "why", and then began to piece together the reason, then I was able to go to God and ask for some help and healing in that area of my life. The same rule applies to emotional eating for me. I thank God, it is far, far less than it used to be and I am begining to see it as a thing of my past, but when it rears it's greedy head, I need to be prepared to ask it "why are you here?" I need to be honest with myself and admit that I am not about to eat a snickers bar because as the commercial says, "it satisfies," I'm about to eat a snickers because I want to stuff the situation that just happened, the feeling of anger that's rising up in me, or the hopelessness I feel and the voice of doubt that tells me I will never change. Those are the truths I have to face if I am going to have that internal renovation I so desire. The amazing thing is the willingness to be honest with myself brings about the most amazing internal healing, one "why" at a time.
Below is a poem I wrote back in 2006, but it feels appropriate for me today. I need to constantly remind myself, that I can't live, breathe or even have to strength to ask myself hard questions without God. His love sustains me and gives me the freedom to examine myself with no fear, because all the"dirt" that I discover inside, is what God will use to create some beautiful piece of art in my soul. I know He already knows, what I am only beginning to discovering.
You Are
Jesus, I know you walk, talk, sing and breathe today
I know you are gentle and fierce
Loud and calm
I know you know what you know
I know you know who you know
I know you will always be
I know you love me
Speak to me
Carry me
Give me life and speech
I know your hands formed this mud
I am yours
Lord of Glory, how I love thee
Lord of Mercy, how I need thee
Lord of Passion, how I seek thee
Lord of Justice, how I see thee
Lord of Glory
Lord of Hope
Lord of Trials
Lord of All
Charissa Carroll
I want to be loved. I am loved. However, sometimes I don't feel it from the people I think I need it from the most. I don't love like I ought to, at times I hold back. So, this questioning of myself has been quite rewarding, emotional and I think the start of a much needed internal renovation.
I had a conversation the other day with someone and I kept thinking about what we talked about. The "subject" wasn't the issue, it was " how" I was talking. I was talking in a way to try and prove something about myself. The person I was talking to wasn't even aware of this, but reflecting on my own tone and words, I realized I had an insecurity in that relationship and I was reacting to it, unbeknownst to me at the time and unbeknownst to the person I was talking to.
I asked myself "why", and then began to piece together the reason, then I was able to go to God and ask for some help and healing in that area of my life. The same rule applies to emotional eating for me. I thank God, it is far, far less than it used to be and I am begining to see it as a thing of my past, but when it rears it's greedy head, I need to be prepared to ask it "why are you here?" I need to be honest with myself and admit that I am not about to eat a snickers bar because as the commercial says, "it satisfies," I'm about to eat a snickers because I want to stuff the situation that just happened, the feeling of anger that's rising up in me, or the hopelessness I feel and the voice of doubt that tells me I will never change. Those are the truths I have to face if I am going to have that internal renovation I so desire. The amazing thing is the willingness to be honest with myself brings about the most amazing internal healing, one "why" at a time.
Below is a poem I wrote back in 2006, but it feels appropriate for me today. I need to constantly remind myself, that I can't live, breathe or even have to strength to ask myself hard questions without God. His love sustains me and gives me the freedom to examine myself with no fear, because all the"dirt" that I discover inside, is what God will use to create some beautiful piece of art in my soul. I know He already knows, what I am only beginning to discovering.
You Are
Jesus, I know you walk, talk, sing and breathe today
I know you are gentle and fierce
Loud and calm
I know you know what you know
I know you know who you know
I know you will always be
I know you love me
Speak to me
Carry me
Give me life and speech
I know your hands formed this mud
I am yours
Lord of Glory, how I love thee
Lord of Mercy, how I need thee
Lord of Passion, how I seek thee
Lord of Justice, how I see thee
Lord of Glory
Lord of Hope
Lord of Trials
Lord of All
Charissa Carroll
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Intentionally intentional
Intentional- done with purpose, with intent.
The following is a poem I wrote to myself on my 30th Birthday;
Leaves turn colors
Pancakes burn
Kindergarteners are eager to learn
What happens when a girl turns thirty?
When the flirting is over
And the ring is on
The babies are born
And the dawn has come
What happens when a girl turns thirty?
Everyone told me that turning thirty was a major turning point in a woman's life. They told me that I would see the world differently, my opinions about certain things would change, and as by some sweep of a magic wand, I would be all the wiser. I do believe it was a major turning point in my life in a lot of ways, but it wasn't magic, and it wasn't always graceful. I am thirty-four now and I think I spent the first three years of being thirty pretty dissatisfied and angry with life. I felt like such a loser. I compared myself with too many people. Feeling inadequate because in all my years of schooling, I still only had one Associates Degree and a Certificate in Nutrition. What had I been doing all those years? Why hadn't I done more? Why was I still trying to lose weight? I had a certificate in Nutrition and still I couldn't figure it all out, but I tried. I have been trying for a long time. I have done counseling, and I have been in school for a lot of years, I just didn't have a real focus. I have done lots of diets too. However, looking back I realize, I wasn't a loser and I didn't and still don't need to compare myself to others. A friend of mine recently posted on my FB page that she wishes she had my gift of writing and poetry. I responded that I wish I had her gift of service and humility. We all have gifts and they are meant for sharing and encouraging and sometimes surrendering, so they can be given back to us and used for a different purpose, or sometimes with a better attitude. I realized that over the years I may not have done everything I wanted or thought I should have. I am still working on my Bachelors degree and I could have had my Masters by now, but that really doesn't matter. The real question for the present is, Am I living an intentionally intentional life now? Am I still snoozing, and making excuses? Am I still scared to step out in faith? I am scared at times and the occassional snooze is going to happen, but I am focused in a new way. Turning thirty did change me, the previous years of experience have provided me stepping stones on the path to my intentional life. The past is what it was, today examine your steps, if you don't know where to go ask God, he has already marked your path.
The following is a poem I wrote to myself on my 30th Birthday;
Leaves turn colors
Pancakes burn
Kindergarteners are eager to learn
What happens when a girl turns thirty?
When the flirting is over
And the ring is on
The babies are born
And the dawn has come
What happens when a girl turns thirty?
Everyone told me that turning thirty was a major turning point in a woman's life. They told me that I would see the world differently, my opinions about certain things would change, and as by some sweep of a magic wand, I would be all the wiser. I do believe it was a major turning point in my life in a lot of ways, but it wasn't magic, and it wasn't always graceful. I am thirty-four now and I think I spent the first three years of being thirty pretty dissatisfied and angry with life. I felt like such a loser. I compared myself with too many people. Feeling inadequate because in all my years of schooling, I still only had one Associates Degree and a Certificate in Nutrition. What had I been doing all those years? Why hadn't I done more? Why was I still trying to lose weight? I had a certificate in Nutrition and still I couldn't figure it all out, but I tried. I have been trying for a long time. I have done counseling, and I have been in school for a lot of years, I just didn't have a real focus. I have done lots of diets too. However, looking back I realize, I wasn't a loser and I didn't and still don't need to compare myself to others. A friend of mine recently posted on my FB page that she wishes she had my gift of writing and poetry. I responded that I wish I had her gift of service and humility. We all have gifts and they are meant for sharing and encouraging and sometimes surrendering, so they can be given back to us and used for a different purpose, or sometimes with a better attitude. I realized that over the years I may not have done everything I wanted or thought I should have. I am still working on my Bachelors degree and I could have had my Masters by now, but that really doesn't matter. The real question for the present is, Am I living an intentionally intentional life now? Am I still snoozing, and making excuses? Am I still scared to step out in faith? I am scared at times and the occassional snooze is going to happen, but I am focused in a new way. Turning thirty did change me, the previous years of experience have provided me stepping stones on the path to my intentional life. The past is what it was, today examine your steps, if you don't know where to go ask God, he has already marked your path.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Is my life one big snooze?
To snooze or not to snooze that is the question. I usually wake up at 5 am hit snooze, go back to sleep, wake up again at 5:30 hit snooze about three more times and finally get out of bed at 5:45 am. The other day I repeated this cycle past my usual 5:45 am and went all the way until about 6:15 am. At that point I would not make the bus to school, so I dismissed the alarm altogether. I use my cell phone as my alarm and it has the repetitive snooze button that will go off every five minutes until you dismiss it. It makes me wonder, how useful this type of alarm really is. I mean I can follow it's prompting and wake up at the set time or I can keep on, forever it seems pushing the snooze button, and if that isn't enough I can dismiss the alarm altogether. I usually succumb to the bleep of the alarm and refuse to push the snooze button when I feel the fear. You know that feeling of, " Oh No!" that instantly rouses you from your smooth warm sheets and into the cold atmosphere outside your bedroom ( it's cold because you only heat your room at night to save on the heating bill) and into the " I gotta make it on time" mode. So this snooze button made me think about my life. How many times have I pushed snooze when I should have woken up? Where in my life am I still pushing the snooze button, and where have I dismissed the alarm altogether? I know that for a long time I pushed the snooze button on my weight issues. The diet was dismissed every weekend and the alarm set for Monday, only to push snooze when I was offered cake or, was just so hungry I had to eat the bag of Dorito's. The snooze button became a regular fixture in my life. It was easier to pretend I was asleep than wake up to the reality that I had a problem that wasn't going to be a quick fix. So here I am painfully aware of my excuses and willing to face them one snooze button at a time.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
New things
I'm ready to try new things. Step out of my comfort zone. After all I have been an adult for quite some time now. I think blogging will be good for my soul. I will keep it honest and kind. Those are my two goals. My friends encouraged me to do this, and I think it will help me set my voice free. I have been afraid, ashamed even at times to speak the truth. I want to be honest, so no more excuses for me. I'm tired of limiting myself because of my fears, yet even though I am tired of giving into my fears, I can't always see how to stop the cycle. I'm on a weight loss journey. It's a journey because I have an destination in mind. I'm not aiming for a perfect body, I don't think those existed since Adam and Eve. My end goal really doesn't have a whole lot to do with my physical image to tell you the truth. I want to be content with myself. I want to know who I am and be willing to stretch the limits of who I can be. Okay well I have made my first official entry. This feels good. This is me trying new things.
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