Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Changing of the Season?

Two and a half years ago, Seth and I set out on a faith journey.

This journey involved bringing another child into our family, and me leaving my career to be a full-time SAHM.  We crunched numbers based on Seth's current take-home pay, health-care coverage expenses, cost-savings from no childcare, etc.  It was going to be tight, but doable.  Ideally, the plan was for me to continue my MPA program very part-time, to keep student loans at bay, and finish around the time Christopher would start school so that I could go back to work.  Kelsey would be old enough to spend time with them after school until I got home, would I be working FT.

But that's where things have fallen short.

Seth's annual income has decreased by about $10k from our 2008 projections due to a harsh economy.  And then I tried to die, sans insurance.  That was NOT CHEAP - although, please let it be known that I'm quite glad to be ALIVE and well!  So, yeah, there've been some wrenches thrown our way.  Each month, our finances have gotten progressively worse, despite some serious downsizing of our lifestyle, to the point of having to decide what to pay [late], what not to pay, and what to catch-up on.

We've been praying for quite some time that God would show us what to do.  I've thought about getting a night/weekend job, to avoid incurring child-care costs, but Seth has not liked that option as it would strain our marriage, and he already works a hard, manual 50+ hours/week.  I've tried to garner some free-lance work, and only just recently have landed anything substantial, and yet still not at all steadily coming in.

And then, two weeks ago, I was praying about this very issue as Seth's body is wearing from his work - he'd had high blood pressure at Thanksgiving, some neck pain and extreme fatigue that disheartened me and left me with visions of him working himself to death -  when I received an e-mail.  It was from my old boss at the city.  She was announcing her departure from the city as she had landed an opportunity of a lifetime with the United Way.

Thus, her position, for which I was the assistant for 4.5 years and have very first-hand knowledge regarding, was open.

Could it be?  An answer from God?  Or an illusory trapping laid out by the enemy in which I could become self-important and lose priority again?  Hmmmm.....dilemma.

I've had many mixed emotions about this position, and as a result have done a ton of soul-searching, investigations re: hidden costs (both material/physical and spiritual/emotional), and had many a heart to heart with my husband.  I've cried at the thoughts of the confusion my little boy might feel when Mama leaves him all day every day all of a sudden.  And I've thought that if I have to work, and it sure appears it's going to be that way, that it might as well be something that I love doing, which I did.

Ultimately, we've decided, together, that I should apply for it, with the prayer being if this is not God's will, that He put up an undeniable road block in this path.  It is an unbelievable opportunity, one that may not come about for a very long time, and is in keeping with my professional goals/abilities.

Yesterday, I submitted my application.  With glowing references and a letter of recommendation.  Now we wait, as the hiring supervisor is out of the country until after the first of the year.


© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Thursday, August 26, 2010

On Owning Some of What [and Who] I Am

Headless Mom recently shared a blog post of Jodifur's on facebook.

And I am so glad that she did, because it was one of those resonating gems of the blogosphere, a post in which you read and find yourself saying, "I am so totally there, too!"  Well, maybe without the 'so totally," anyway.  And maybe just for me, anyway... This is a hint to just click over and read it, lest you be reading my thoughts without full contextual insight.

I don't know Jodi, but I relate to the whole undermining of one's self - be it in the realm of my hobbies, abilities, appearance, etc., I have the tendency to speak in 'I'm really nots' and dismissive notes of how old something I'm wearing might be.

But no more.

Inspired by Jodi's closing statement that she IS a runner - I'm going to write up a list of things I am, and own them free and clear of the debts brought on by insecurity.  That sounds a heck of a lot better than I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and doggonit, people like me, doesn't it?

I'm a sinner.  Saved by the blood of Jesus Christ, from whom I draw my hope for the future, but still a sinner who still makes the same stupid mistakes everyday.  I wish that I knew God better - and love the song below so, so, SO much because Jennifer Knapp does such a great job at capturing my heart - but the beauty is that there is always room to grow.


I'm a wife and mother to some pretty terrific people.  Which makes me pretty blessed overall, even on the tough days.  Someone PLEASE remind me of this on Sunday/Monday as Seth is taking 3 days off from Casa del Meyer to go archery hunting and I may just be going a little crazy by then.

I, too, am a runner.  I have a running mix on my ipod, see the same fellow runners on my route every other day (because I have a route and a time that I stick to, like other runners do), read running articles, have run a 5k, 10k, and now am training for a half-marathon.  I mean, what's it take, a full marathon to make someone a runner?  Enough hem-hawing about it, Heather!  You're a runner!

I am a writer.  No longer will I hesitate to say this.  I am now writing professionally, even if it is not the Great American Novel and is just grants and technical writing for now, it is beyond a personal blog.  However, should I ever revert back to just writing a blog, I will still realize that I'm a writer, regardless of brand or label.  I create with my words and always will.

And because it is so important to me....I am a red-head!  The shade may be mellowing due to hormones or the seasonal light change or whatever inexplicable phenomenon you to which you wish to ascribe this occurrence, but I paid my dues as a red-headed child and I am still a red-head!  Don't make me get the bottle.....

I am pretty.  That one is so hard to write, because I struggle to see it.  Always have, even when I was younger though I now can clearly see the beauty I had then.  It also seems kind of an arrogant thing to say - which I'm not quite sure how it got construed that way, I mean we [women that is, I've met men who have no issue with this, even when, maybe they, uh, should have] have no problem identifying ourselves as smart, but pretty?  Maybe because smart is measurable and beauty is in the eye[s] of the beholder and therefore it requires a certain assumption on a woman's part to say that she is pretty?  Anyway...I'm starting to catch glimpses of my outer beauty again.  Long-term weight loss tends to blur the mirror in this regard.  As of today, I've lost 53 lbs since Christopher was born.  40 of those pounds were baby weight and fell off relatively quickly (I think in 7 mos?).  The last 13 have been a b#$!h to shed.  But they're gone.  I have about 13 more to lose to get to my 'realistic goal' weight - the weight I was and maintained for 2 years while Colton was a toddler.  My 'crazy weight loss' goal is 10 more past that weight, as my doctor told me that was where I should be ideally.  If it is life consuming to get to that weight and maintain it, it's a no-go and the doctor can suck it.  As it is, I bought an Ann Taylor dress at a thrift store in May, a 'motivation dress' if you will, with the goal of wearing it by Labor Day.  I fit into it today!  I'll probably need to wear a shaper with it, as it is a sheath style dress and hugs my tum a bit more than I'm comfortable with at this point, but there's no more arm chub at the gathers.

I'm coming into my own, gaining new confidences everyday.  The 30s are by far the greatest decade yet.


© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Friday, August 20, 2010

Out of Context

Every year the night before school is an open house/ice cream social where the kids and parents can meet the teachers, unload the backhoes of school supplies, and snarf down a little frozen dairy goodness before the chaos is unleashed.

It's fun to see the kids' excitement as they find their friends and catch up on who's in whose class, what they did over the summer and details such as how exactly they broke their arm.

Seth hardly ever gets to go since it coincides with his last hour of work, so Tuesday night he was trying to get the 411 from the kids at the dinner table (which ended up to be a very late supper that night).

"Didja get the teacher you wanted, Kels?"

"Not really...." she paused.  Then very emphatically, she said, "I just wish she had some balls!"

It made me snort a little, the look on Seth's face.

"Well, ok, then?  Is she that much of a pushover?"  He asked, clearly on a different page than the one Kelsey and I were on.

"What?!?" she asked in the rare, but occasional 'dumb-blonde' tone of but I don't get it.

He went on to explain what a pushover was and she was still blank.

"But, Dad-deeeee, I know what a pushover is - I just don't get why you'd say that because she doesn't have balls, though."

I could have intervened, but the humor of it all was cracking me up.

Suddenly, it dawned on my daughter that she and her dad had entirely different pictures in their minds, thus she said, exasperated, "Dad!!!!!  I meant exercise balls - you know, to sit on??  Instead of a chair?!!  The other 4th grade teachers have balls but mine doesn't and it's not really fair because that would help* me."

* it's a sensory thing.

And then all that humor tension climaxed into a fit of laughter at our table.

******
Completely unrelated, save for the out of context theme....

I've been curling my hair for a little something different lately - contemplating a body perm, but that just wigs me out (pun intended - me so cheesey) and makes me think of the aforementioned fashion crimes of the 80s.

The other day I was curling my hair before church and Christopher was walking around the bathroom.  He was babbling and messing with his hair when I realized that he too was 'curling' his hair.  With a wrapped (read: unused and perfectly sterile) tampon!

Oh dear, that one had me laughing for awhile too..
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

The One Where I Relate to AC/DC

You know...as in, one of two heavy metal bands proclaimed by the t-shirts of the two poorly animated, infamous-for-their-utter-lack-of-conventional-values characters of the 90's known as Beavis and Butt-head.

Yeah....the 80's have their fashion crimes of which to be ashamed.  The 90's?  We had Beavis and Butt-head and the dumbing down of humor to fart jokes for an entire generation.  *sigh*

Anyway....so, I do this thing where I associate moods, happenings, etc. with music, quotes, TV and all other things pop culture, right?

Today it was AC/DC's Back in Black playing in my little mental concert for one.  Because I am one Klassy Babe when it comes to my musical repertoire - thanks to one former step-father who never could break free of the hold of 80's metal bands, and Blondie as well come to think on it, had on him and that he saw to it that we, too, were appropriately indoctrinated uh, educated re: their cultural significance; usually such education occurred while he was drunk.  Fun times.


Why, you ask, did you have Back in Black playing in your head today, Heather?

Because quite simply,
...
I've been too long I'm glad to be back
Yes I'm, let loose
From the noose
That's kept me hanging about
...
 
I'm coming back.  In ways that have been dormant for a good long time, I'm seeing glimpses of who I am and who God's teaching me to be along the way.

Kelsey and Colton started back to school Wednesday, and Heaven smiled down on me.  Writing that makes me feel like a bad mother, a bit.  Because I chose to be a SAHM in order to be more present with my kids and yet come July each year, I can't wait to be away from them for 40 hours a week.  Ok, so maybe that last part is hyperbole, but not by a huge amount.  To be fair, the kids were equally happy to leave me behind every day :)  I have been able to be productive and get my house in respectable shape again, there is a return of that blissfully quiet period, 2x/day!, known as NAPTIME, and routine, how I love thee.  School is good.

Colton was totally stoked that the new gym teacher (whom I foresee to be the object of many young girls' affections due to his youth and looks) was wearing the same Marvel comics t-shirt as he was.  2nd and 4th grades this year.
New School Shoes
While not going to school, little Chris was part of the obligatory 1st day photos.
Bus!!

I re-start my MPA studies, from which I took hiatus in 2008 and 2009.  I will only be taking one class this semester, but I'm excited.  I do keep cracking jokes about the class, as it is Leadership and Professional Ethics - joke being that there's a difference between personal ethics and professional ones?  Syllabus looks good and challenging, but not overly so.  Feels do-able.

As of today, we are caught up on our mortgage and all of our household bills - which is a place we haven't been since last November.  Medical stuff is still hanging out, but we've cut some serious fat out of our budget, finally saying goodbye to Directv, and hello to Hulu, Netflix, and a digital antenna, slashing our grocery bill with sites like CouponMom.com and GroceryGame.com, riding our bikes more than driving the vehicles, etc.  And, now that things are calmer at home, I'm really doing the free-lancing thing!  I got my first client this week - a local NPO seeking funding and yet lacking a grant writer.  Then, tonight I received an e-mail from a legitimate business in Denver asking me for my resume and references as they had a client in need of a funding researcher/grant writer. So, between the cutting of expenses and addition of some income, those medical debts are going bye-bye - no doubt about it.

A newer friend from church remarked how I was going to be superwoman this fall with 3 kids, going back to school, running high mileage, and starting a business.  Certainly, I'm not super woman, but for those of you who've known me since this blog's inception (or before) y'all know I like the busy, like the real busy and not the busy work.  I once worked FT, was in grad school, regularly volunteered in both the older kids' classrooms, took Kelsey to weekly OT appointments, cooked from scratch, etc. and did it fairly well.  Some situational things popped up occasionally, namely marital during that time period, that got me down.  And then I needed a break, so I slowed down and tried to follow God a little more closely.

The past 2 years have been huge in the growth department.  The latter part of 2008 being a preparatory season, 2009 being a sort of demolition/rebuilding year, and thus far 2010 has been further rebuilding with an unveiling starting to take shape.

I feel as if, structurally speaking, I have the same foundation, as in, I'm still the same stubborn, feisty, big-word loving kind of gal I've always been.  True, some parts of me have gotten those sort of whimsical face lifting reminiscent of HGTV's lower budget programs, such as the coupon clipping, cloth diapering, home-growing features that are new but not foreign to me.  But other parts of me have been completely gutted, refashioned, and repurposed...My kids are bearing the brunt of my stubbornness being channeled into my parenting.

So, Angus sings it for me in my mind...."I'm back.  In black".  Though usually not all black clothing, I can generally be found wearing black flip-flops on any given day.  
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Brought to you with a large serving of "air quotes"

The following is what my goofy little mind came up with when my brain crossed reading a Facebook friend's status about having Christmas carols stuck in his head (in August, the blasphemy!) with the joys of parenting at summer's end.  It is my [poor] attempt at parody, and in Weird Al fashion, I have a mental music video that goes along with it - primarily frazzled moms air quoting each 'wonderful' in the song, in lieu of jazz hands.


It's the most wonderful time of the year 
With the kids always yelling
And every mom telling you "It’s that time of year" 
It's the most wonderful time of the year 
It's the hap-happiest season of all
With those back-to-school greetings and PTA meetings 
When Busy comes to call 
It's the hap- happiest season of all 

There are routines to re-enlist 
New bedtimes on which to insist 
And children hollering “NO!” 
There'll be harried mom stories 
And tales of the glories of 
Back-to-schools long, long ago 

It's the most wonderful time of the year 
There is much limit testing 
And siblings contesting 
Poor Mom yearns for beer 
It's the most wonderful time of the year 

There are routines to re-enlist 
New bedtimes on which to insist 
And children hollering “NO!” 
There'll be harried mom stories 
And tales of the glories of 
Back-to-schools long, long ago 

It's the most wonderful time of the year 
There is much limit testing 
And siblings contesting 
Poor Mom yearns for beer 
It's the most wonderful time 
It's the most wonderful time 
It's the most wonderful time 
When the School Bus draws near!!!!!


In all seriousness, summer's been fun, but I'm ready for a little daily distance to make my heart fonder of the two older ones.  The whining and the sibling rivalry-esque competitions are wearing me down!


© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Monday, August 2, 2010

Pushing My Limits

Today marks the end of my summer hiatus from blogging.

My break was much needed, July nearly sent me to the loony bin, and just reaffirmed what I already knew: I REALLY need my laptop back, erm, to write.  :-D Often.  And with purpose.  More on that later.

In the meantime, I began to acquire a case of runner's doldrums mid-July.  Oh, I still went, and regularly enough, but that carrot of a yet-to-be-accomplished goal was lacking ever since my feet crossed that strip in Folsom Field.  Without a concrete goal, and the very-vague-yet-unconstrained-by-culturally-dictated-shapes-or-sizes aim of being a 'fit mama,' while noble, is sort of like telling a toddler to 'be nice' when really they need to quit biting every damned person they feel like, I just didn't have enough to inspire the runs for which my legs began to yearn.

I mean, have you met me?  Girl likes a challenge, and by challenge I mean, 'those feats which redefine impossible.' Pretty much anyway.  Oh and btw a perfect theme song for this is Natasha Bedingfield's Unwritten, since we are being all literary and redefining and all that....or, it is just a great dose of positivity.  You're welcome!

Anyway....so I had some chats with God about this - as some of you may know my whole running journey began as a desire for me to reflect the healing and other works He has done/is doing in my life - and asked Him, "What's next?  Because this is great and all, but it's not as dramatic as what you've done for me.  How can I even begin to show them?  I mean, without going all divine being and walking on water like Jesus, ya know"

So on the fateful day of July 14th I found myself at the grocery checkout staring down the cover of the August Runner's World.  The chick on the cover had enviable tone, for sure, but my gaze locked in on the words just to the left of her middle:  BREAK 2 HOURS (or any time goal).  Ok, so my Boulder (10k/6.2mile) time was 1:16 and change, which broke down to a 12:17/mile average pace.  And a sub-2 hour marathon (21k/13.1miles) equates to roughly a 9:09/mile pace.

So there I was looking at the [im]possibility of doing more than double the distance in less than twice the allotted time?!?!  Sold!

I started my training on the 17th and have been sticking to it.  I'm not quite at the performance demanded by the training guidelines - i.e. I did week 1 twice since my first attempt at an 8 mile run was only slightly more than two-thirds successful, I have not quite made the 'easy,' 10:30 pace over distance my own yet (oh, but I will...I did a 10:31 pace last Tuesday, SOCLOSE!!!!), nor would I call it an 'easy' pace for me at this time.  But I am getting there.  So far I have pushed myself beyond what I thought I could with:

  • my first time ever experiencing exercise-induced vomiting (during which all I could do was envision Biggest Loser montages)
  • an 8:00 mile!!
  • completing 8 miles, period, let alone at an 11:56 pace!!!

I don't have a half-marathon picked out/registered for yet, but there is a local on in November that I'm starting to see myself doing.

Turns out, I need direction in order to channel my energy.  Put another way, I need to be told what to do.  Heh, who'da thunk on that one, eh?

And, side bennie of running like a beast - my legs are starting to shape up (finally - I mean you'd think they'd have gotten the memo that we've been working HARD for OVER A YEAR by now!) and this 'fit mama' is starting to look the part as well as feel it!
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Friday, July 16, 2010

[Sticky] Bullets

My li'l Punkinhead received a handy little Nerf dart gun for turning 7, two weeks ago :gasp!: and I've YET to write him a birthday post - the HORROR!!! -  and he has been thoroughly entertained with aiming his darts, with velcro on them so they stick to clothing, at people, particularly on their bums.

Needless to say they stick quite well to my mesh running shorts du jour, thus I've been dodging sticky bullets all day.

But I miss writing, and have a TON of things to say but no time - what happened to all of the time?  It is mid-summer and I feel like it just started, like if I blink or sneeze it is going to be October and PTA.  So bullets will have to suffice for now.


  • Middle summer is a parenting plateau that pretty much sucks.  Regardless of any form of routine a mother would try to entertain, the fact that it is daylight until 9 makes it unreasonably difficult to keep peace, as it is an insurmountable feat to get Kelsey and Colton into bed before 10, due to said elongation of days.  The resulting crank factor - because a certain girl child just doesn't sleep in, even if her body desperately needs it - and accompanying triggers for a sensory meltdown, which lead to sibling blowouts and me playing referee rather than cook, maid, etc., pretty much make it impossible to accomplish the mundane and familiar, let alone the grandiose plans for us to capitalize on all the cultural/educational activities we can.
  • I'm returning to my MPA studies next month...I'm somewhat leery of it as I still often feel as if my mind is somewhere floating in the clouds.  But, I need to finish it - and when I do I'll [hopefully] have some more earning potential.
  • I've suddenly been seeing people and things in a comparative, albeit decidedly distorted, manner - and am not quite sure how to refrain from this trap.  E.g. all of a sudden, every woman at the supermarket is prettier, better dressed, thinner, better coifed, etc. than I may be at that given moment.  Or other people's homes are so much neater, well-decorated, bigger, etc. than my own.  Other kids are so much more respectful to their parents than ours have been with us of late, and so on down the road.  I know that this lens is quite simply, the wrong prescription through which to view life, but I feel stuck with it right now and am working on feeling content and competent with my life again.  Or should that say still?
  • Kelsey's going away to church camp on Sunday and we're all a bit apprehensive about that, given the above reference to an increase in meltdowns of late.
  • This funk I'm in has a bit to do with seeing the work I had the opportunity to be intimately involved with, but had to decline due to Li'l C's arrival time and the project start date being fairly simultaneous, take off.  It's a torturous game of coulda, woulda, shoulda and I need to quit playing, but I'm stuck.  And wonder of wonders, it happens to be occurring when Li'l C is at the age the others were when I started to work more out of the home - what does that say about me as a mother?  That I love babies but am ready to hand them off as toddlers for someone else to deal with?  Oh, it's more complicated than that for sure, and so there's a funk.


© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Monday, July 5, 2010

In the still of a waning gibbous night

Written last Tuesday/Wednesday, the waning gibbous reference is not me trying to be all Lewis Carroll with language befitting the Jabberwocky but rather points to the phase the moon was in that night.


My soul was restless today.

As a thought would enter my mind, another would pop out, begging a desperate, "Look at me!" plea reminiscent of that from multiple siblings competing for mother's attention.  "No, look at ME!"  All.  Day.  Long.

Focus and clarity proved elusive despite being much sought after.

Until tonight.

After running errands, we came home and put the kids to bed*, put a movie in and settled in for the night.  It wasn't long into the movie that Seth nodded off, only to wake and trudge upstairs shortly after.  I finished the movie, feeling a wakefulness creep into my mind, and while I enjoyed the story, the soundtrack and the scenery of the film are what really struck my heart.

The quiet of the house sat with me pleasantly after a chaotic, if only mentally so, day.

I needed to get the dogs and let them in, so I went outside, where my soul sang for the night sky before me exuded that clarity for which I'd been so desperately seeking.

Inky and dark the expanse glittered with stars who had no need to compete with the opacity of any clouds - for there were none.  Though the clock read 11:40, the moon was just venturing a stretch off the easterly horizon.  Though emptied some of her recent fullness, she still retained all of the luster present during her peak.  She continued to rise, radiantly and proud as I just marveled on my patio at the ministrations my Heavenly Father was orchestrating to my soul.
 O LORD, our Lord,
       how majestic is your name in all the earth!
       You have set your glory
       above the heavens.
 2 From the lips of children and infants
       you have ordained praise 
[b]
       because of your enemies,
       to silence the foe and the avenger.

 3 When I consider your heavens,
       the work of your fingers,
       the moon and the stars,
       which you have set in place,

 4 what is man that you are mindful of him,
       the son of man that you care for him?
* Right about now my reveries were interrupted by hearing Seth and Kelsey squabbling above in my bedroom.  I went and snatched my daughter, who matched my insomnia and later rose me with 3 additional wakeful nights that week, and we shared the evening in silence on the patio.  She drew as I wrote this post the old fashioned way, with pen and pad.

Thoughts from a recent sermon returned to me...

As beautiful and bright as the moon appears to be, in and of itself it is not actually a luminary.  Merely rock and dust, it glows in our night skies because it was made such that it reflects the light of the sun, the true light and center of our universe.  I'm certain that our Creator fully intended the moon to be a light in a darkened world, and yet He deigned it to forever be dependent on another being to display light, unable to generate light of its own.

Humankind is no different.  Made originally of dust, sometimes with hearts as hardened as rock, we cannot generate our own light, yet our sole purpose is to reflect the light of the Son.

Pure.  Simple.  Clarity.
You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden.
Would that we could always have a blank sky to twinkle on, but just like in the night sky, there are often clouds.  They all pass, in life and in the sky.  Sometimes they remain awhile, producing rain - vital to growth and life.  Other times these clouds merely drift aimlessly, shifting shapes, eventually blowing over.  Some follow a seasonal pattern and return year after year like the Santa Ana's.  Still others collide and cause friction, producing sizable storms; storms that sneak upon us and others that are easily predicted.  But, through all of the distractions that clouds bring to the night sky, one thing remains constant whether we can see it or not: the moon always reflects the light of the sun.

Unlike us, the moon doesn't have a choice to reflect the sun.

May I always be willing to reflect the Light of the world - come what may.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Befuddlement

So, uh, HI!!

It's been awhile.

Again.

But it's not just you, bloggies.

And it's not just my IRL friends, whom I've also been neglecting.

It's me.  I've been resting my fingers on the pause button of my remote control for life, wanting the world to stop spinning momentarily so I. Could. Just. Gather. My. Thoughts. Just. ONCE!  Seriously, I feel a bit ADD lately, starting chores, only to think, "Oh, but wait, I forgot to pray with God!," and turn to do that and then say, "Oh look, a Cheerio!  Hmm...I'm hungry," and that's just on my own, without the kids interrupting.

They magnify this distractedness I've been feeling about 10,000 fold.

I've gotta get a grip on summer.

And my head.  There's so much rolling around in it that I can't seem to grab a coherent moment with myself.

working on it.

But that means I may be taking a summer break from rambling.


© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Monday, June 21, 2010

Better Late Than Never, Right?

I, uhm, seem to have fallen behind in a lot of things lately.  It is hard to keep up with all of the kids at home 24/7!  Kinda miss school, but not terribly.  My kitchen floors, however?  Miss school in a BIG way.

Saturday was my IL's 40th wedding anniversary, y'all - can we get a hearty round of applause for that?  That is a serious milestone in today's day and age, no?  They're very real people who work for a love that shows, not all Ward and June and yet not that loveless couple that trudged on through, either.  They've been a great example to us of how to keep on keepin' on and have a good time while doing it.  We'd have loved to have been with them for this milestone, as previously was entertained, but the cashflow was an issue.  Besides, our inability to go lent us the opportunity to stay and be part of our church's marriage seminar (it is SO GOOD!!!  Life changing whether you are single, married, divorced, in a struggling marriage or one that rocks your socks...if you're local and want to know more, just shoot me an e-mail!) that kicked off yesterday - giving us yet more tools to match my husband's parents in longevity of matrimonial bliss.  Seth got to talk to them last night, while I was on a night run with a friend from church, and tell them both how he felt about their abiding love and its impact on us.  I did not, so better late than never - 
I love you too Mom and Dad.  Words fail me to describe the blessing you've been to us.
Also sitting on my to-do's was a tag that Headless Mom sent my way, about a month ago.  Can you believe me?  It's terrible I know.  SOooo...I have to answer her questions and then come up with my own...I may just answer the questions she gave me as so many of my bloggies are either on sabbatical or I have been lurking and not participating on their blogs much.


1- Which celebrity to you want to tell to "Shut up, already!"?  
Hmmmm...all of them?  Seriously, there aren't that many Hollywood voices that I listen to these days.  A few years back it would've been Tom Cruise in his whole public denouncement of post-partum depression and psychiatry in general.

2- What is your favorite happy hour drink? 
I do love a good margarita, white zins, and never met too many beers I didn't like.  But lately, I've been so health conscious that my happy hour drinks are the same as my all day drinks: WATER.

3- What is your favorite thing to cook/bake?  
Hmmmm.....I like to cook, so picking a favorite is going to be hard.  Probably homemade bread, it's so rewarding and smells the house up nicely.

4- What is one thing that you wish you had more time for?
Well, it's not so much that I don't have enough time for it, rather than I let other things come before it - but I wish I spent more time in prayer and meditation with God and His holy word.

5- What is the FIRST thing you would do with a jumbo lottery jackpot?
Give to my church so that they could pay it forward what was done for us last year.

6- What song/artist do you always turn off when it/they come on the radio?
I listen to Christian radio pretty much exclusively these days, so there's not much objectionable content, but I really don't like Mandisa's voice/style and will usually flip to another station when she comes on bellowing about it only being the world.  Also?  Michael W. Smith's New Hallelujah gets the click of death from me too.  Love him, hate that song.

7- What one household chore is your favorite? (Or at least the least hated?)  
Going with the least hated approach, vacuuming.

8- What is your favorite flower?
Oh dear....I love flowers of all kinds.  Not sure I can pick just one. I have a thing for big showy blooms like lilies, clematis, peonies, etc., but for smells it is hard to beat lilacs, roses, or honeysuckle.

9- What food do you like that most would say "Eeeeew!" to?
Spinach smoothies.  Almond milk (sweetened vanilla is really yummy, but plain is good too), honey, banana, spinach and ice = a clean tasting green for the palate.

10- Is there something that you refuse to blog about? Why?
Hmmm....I don't know if there is a topic I REFUSE to blog about, but certainly there are some that I tend to avoid now - marital strife and/or family fights between the FoO or the IL's .  Why?  Because I used to freely vent about them here and when the blog got more public that was very hurtful.  I'm a lover not a fighter.

Well....as for tagging more, think I'll pass for now.  



© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Friday, June 18, 2010

Foodie Friday - Un-souping the casserole

Foodie Fridays by Ramblin Red
This Foodie Friday is going to be a wee bit different, i.e. a simple link-up to the recipe/blog-post from which I gleaned the creamed soup replacement method.

This week, I'd signed up to make dinner for our church's Wednesday night "family night."  Family nights only go on in the summer, and we love them!  There is a meal, usually prepared by a team of people, and then later there is a more informal devotional time than we have during the school-year, i.e., we sing some songs of praise and then there is a speaker with a short message.  This summer's theme is 2nd Peter 1:5-9

I'd forgotten to grab a partner when I signed up - and then time got away from me, so I was cooking for 150 people on my own.  It was fun, in a culinary adventure sort of way.

I decided to make King Ranch Chicken, and sought out a good recipe for it.  I found the Homesick Texan's blog with a soup-free version (as most versions employ both cream of mushroom and cream of chicken soups), and made that, x15!

It was fabulous, and even my ever-picky Kelsey devoured it, despite the presence of peppers, onions and 'hot', that is cooked, tomatoes.  Sooooooo yummy and well worth the time.
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Slamming Doors Shut and Prying Open Windows

Yesterday   well, given that it is now almost two days later, MONDAY, I officially gave myself permission to say "This isn't working," regarding my stint as a lia sophia advisor.

I just didn't have the knack for getting the right people to host, much less attend parties for me.  And while I TOTALLY LOVE their jewelry, and stand behind their quality, the biggest part that didn't work for me was trying to sell people on the idea that they Needed. More. Stuff.  I mean, the whole Material Girl scene has never been mine, but this sale was especially hard to make when I myself have been in no position to buy jewelry, let alone store-bought laundry soap, new clothes that aren't second-hand, etc., and I KNOW that I'm not the only one given our knock-down economic state of affairs right now.

I've been praying for a long time about this, and I thought that a recent inquiry from out of the blue was a sign to not give up - but when my hostess went incognito on me and all other newly rekindled attempts to drum up leads were snuffed out, I kindly got out of the way before God let the door hit me in the heinie.

I'd pretty much made my mind up about this on Friday, but this weekend sealed the deal.

In a really ironic way, a simple phone call with my mom opened up a whole new world of opportunity for me. I was telling her about being on the verge of kissing lia sophia goodbye and she suddenly POOF! transformed into a veritable career advice fairy godmother!

Turns out, she's been moonlighting as a Court Appointed Parenting Coordinator and as she told me all about it, it is totally up my alley.  It's basically a free-lance case manager type of deal; parents have to pay a retainer to her and then she bills the hourly rate set by the judge from it as she works for the family (I for one love that paid in advance deal, don't you??)


Not only could I see myself doing this and being successful with it, but I WANT to do this and be successful with it.  And not just for my fiscal benefit.  You see, if I do a good job in that kind of venue, EVERYONE wins - me (cha-ching money never hurt anyone), the child[ren] in question, the family, etc.  And I do love me some good win-win set-ups.

So, to get started?  I am re-writing my resume and writing cover letters to query local attorneys about their need for PC's as well as for referrals. And, because I am all about diversifying the eggs and not putting them all in one conservative portfolio, I'm also using the same tactic with local therapists and counselors re: case management for their clientele.  I did it for the non-profit sector, but never thought to think outside that box and extend my services to self-payers in the private practice system.

Also in the back of my mind has been the dream of writing for keeps.  You know, to be a for-reals kind of writer, the kind I just knew I would be when I was whipping up some fantabulous 6th grade literature (some pieces of which my teacher confirmed via facebook is still in her possession because she used them for every succeeding class post-1991 as examples...now if only she would send them to me as she promised!) the kind that lands magazine deals and culminates with BOOKS.  Yeah, that.

So long ago I shelved that dream on the premises that I didn't get an English degree - nor did I really take all that many writing classes period since I placed out of them during college entry - that I hadn't done any writing extracurriculars (e.g. college newspaper), and that I simply didn't know how to get started.

And now?  Now I am saying to that logic, "SO WHAT?!?!"

I'm going to go for it!

Going for it, reaching for my dreams and all that other clichéd verbiage looks something like a wild maelstrom of the creative process known as brainstorming.

And know what?

It feels really good.

For a long time now I've lamented the feeling of having lost some of myself in this SAHM chapter.  Not losing my SELF as in "Me Time," or "Grown Up Stuff" or ambition or whatever guise that selfishness might wear - not that.  But that sparkle, that feeling of knowing that I'm competent at what I'm doing and what I'm talking about, because this parenting gig?  Isn't exactly the most affirming thing when you feel like you're just cracking out the how-to books 5 minutes after the exam began.

Right now, I'm visioning and trying to figure out branding myself.

I'd like to offer myself up as a free-lance writer, editor (seriously, I was so peeved that the Francine Rivers trilogy I've been reading goofed on a character's name - it was Octavia in book 1 and most of book 2 when she suddenly morphed into Olympia - because, DETAILS, people!  And, despite the conversational, informal grammatical style of my writing on this blog, wherein run-on sentences and those beginning with 'and,' 'because,' 'but,' and other improper introductions abound, I really am a syntax and spelling SNOB who, however wrongly so, tends to deduct IQ points when I see bad grammar, misspellings/typos and other butcherings of the English language), and case-manager - sort of an odd mix, but all have the purpose of bettering one's communications and relationships in the world, be they corporate, personal, or something in between.

I've thought about business names and I really am enthralled with the idea of playing off of the 3 R's of education theme that many are aware of.  Something like 3r Solutions, Media, etc., with a tagline/explanation that the 3r's I focus on are Reading (editing), wRiting, and Relationships (case management/communications focus).  I don't know if it is as catchy as I think though, as so many people are becoming less familiar with the original meanings of the 3R's.  So we'll see.

I'm meeting with a local information architect Friday to further discuss and brainstorm.

In the meantime, I'm drafting cover letters and have secured some prominent people's support in being references for me.

I had the passing thought when all of this started to form in my mind, "How come I never considered this all before?"  I mean think of the heartbreak we could have been spared regarding the finances!

But God answered in my heart almost instantaneously.  Not audibly [I wish!  wouldn't life be so much easier then?] but with that inexplicable sense of utter revelation. You needed to grow as a mother and re-set your priorities.  You're now at a place where the mundane tasks of SAHM-hood are just life and not giant and tedious obstacles.  Now the desires of your heart are prioritized and you will ask for them to be given unto you in the manner that I will, not how you will.  Besides, had you had a caseload and deadlines when you were so ill, what would have come of you then?  You've come so far, my daughter. 

Now it is time for a lot of hard work and fervent prayer!

© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Friday, June 11, 2010

Spontaneity is Overrated

So the other night me and some gal pals are sitting at my kitchen table, after a long day of me decluttering the house when I say," Ladies, I think it's time to go all Dave Ramsey and have me a garage sale.  I found a lot of unnecessaries today and we need the cash, right?  Anyone in with me?"

Friend #1 pipes up, "Oh yeah, I still have a stash in the basement from last year's To Be Garage Sold pile, count me in!"

I say, "Alright - well we should do it then.  Soon."

As in, give me a week or so and then we'll make it happen, when all of a sudden:

Enter Spontaneous Epiphany!!!


Friend #2 realizes that her swanky neighborhood is having their annual neighborhood garage sale This Saturday (as in some 8 1/2 hours from NOW)!  She won't be home, but her hubby will, so we could totally use their space, and it's already advertised, cool huh?

Friend #1 and I glance at each other, weighing the possibility.  She's gonna have her boy (nearly 2) since her hubby's got a golf date, and I'm gonna have my 3 as Seth has a date with his employer, but we shrug, yeah, we can do this!

Today after sorting, and tables and price tags, oh my! I'm thinking that spontaneity is highly overrated, if not the cause for some massive productivity, as our weather forecast is in the Garage Sale Pits right now.....



Praying fervently that all this work was not in vanity - that rain will go away (it can continue doing what it's doing tonight but move along in its merry way once we hit dawn, thankyouverymuch), and that we will have a successful sale tomorrow - I got me a lot of stuff to get rid of!

**Edited to add.... That forecast picture isn't accurate - it has changed every day to match the CURRENT forecast, which is now gorgeous, but last weekend was pouring buckets.  I made a whopping $4 and Friend #1 made $7.  Gonna try again this weekend.

© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Coming down from that runner's high

I did it!!!!!!

It's been over a week now, but what a HIGH.  It has taken me awhile to come back down.

I ran (as in ran the WHOLE way - well, barring two little walk steps on the hill as we all narrowed up and crowded into the stadium right after the 6 mile marker, wherein I then said, "Self, uh, what the hay-ell Are.You.Doing???  You have not RUN this far in the HEAT to WALK any or all of the remaining .2 miles, so no no no, none of that!  Get you butt back to running," and so I re-commenced with a gait that was running-ish until the finish line) the Bolder Boulder.

It was crazy - as evidenced in this stunning eyewitness footage:

BTW....does the creepy dude in the bathrobe, on his stationary bike, at 3:58 - 4:14 remind you of the same guy I thought of? :shudders:

Anyway, the day was not without glitches - I mean, we are talking about ME here, right?  When was the last time everything sailed smoothly???

First, Seth's stopwatch and I were so poorly acquainted that I hit the wrong button to start so that when  I looked down at the first mile marker I saw a big, fat 00:00:00 staring right back at me.  So there I was, running, intermittently looking and fiddling at my wrist instead of keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead of me - which is just begging for disaster, but lo! the Lord's angels were with me and a human stampeding calamity was averted - when I figured out the right button to push and time started ticking away.  I figured that I would just add the start time to current time and voila! I'd have the total at the end.  I never thought that perhaps the Boulder clock and mine might perchance differ in opinion with each other (which they did, come to find out) and felt pretty good thinking that my first mile was in the 9 minute vicinity.

Then there was the issue of my thighs.  They're uh, pretty meaty still.  Particularly on the insides.  And they pretty much always touch.  This led me to the observation of two things.

1.)When you wear shorts to run in, as opposed to spandex, when dealing with this particular plight, well, you wind up with what looks like a sort of wedgie in the front as the insides of the thighs push your shorts higher and higher.  When you're running a race, even with the full knowledge that you will not win said race nor even your wave of the race, you don't have the time to constantly be pulling your shorts out of your crotch.  Which led to some fantabulous photos of one Ramblin Red, bib number GK544.  But hey, at least I wasn't wearing a RED UNITARD WITH A VERY OBVIOUS BLACK THONG underneath, right? All I could think was, "That's a guaranteed recipe for a hemorrhoid!"  I mean, one word: FRICTION!  Ouch.  Or a stripper-style German Barmaid costume.  I kid you not!  Because this is a race and I was properly attired in athletic garb, even if it malfunctioned slightly.

2.) While I'd trained for this day, I hadn't given much thought to the impact on my performance when the sweat would inevitably begin to seep into the heat rash that is ever present in the summer months due to said thigh rubbage affliction.  I pretty much tried to shower at every hose/sprinkler offered along the course to keep the stinging at minimum.

This is just the first mile too - you see where it was distracting?

After mile 1 I got into a groove and hung there. Until midway between 2 and 3 miles when the hill came, along with the blazing sun.  I slowed and got hot.  Then kicked back up again.  At the 5k marker I started to get all dejected, thinking, "I still have another HALF to go!"  And shortly thereafter was a church, whose congregants had a tent with Switchfoot playing, which was SUCH a Godsend to me.  I meditated alternately on Philippians 4:13 and my rather paraphrased and personalized version of the introductory lines of the 23rd Psalm, "The LORD is my Shepherd, I shall not want.  He brings me to green pastures...called FOLSOM FIELD!"

And before I knew it, I was at mile 4, then 5.  And then began the ascent up that final hill, where I met with mile six.  My legs were rubber coated lead weights by then.  But I could SEE the stadium, and aside from that brief moment of self-sabotage, I was determined to finish.  Once I got into the stadium, and realized the finish line was not right inside the stadium, but 3/4 of a lap around the track, my heart sank a bit, but only momentarily.

And just like that it was over.

I'd crossed the line.  And slowed to a walk.

It didn't hit me until I'd walked up the stadium bleachers to the drink station at the top.  And whose bright idea is that anyway?  Sending people who are virtually drunk on endorphins - seriously, I felt as if I'd had 5 beers, ok, 3 as I'm a lightweight since I don't drink that much, and could hardly stand up straight - to navigate stadium steps with their elevation and weird half-step cadence and not a railing to be had to get water?!?! I got my water, and stretched my muscles, which were already stiffening, when I got the shakes.  Just like I'd had after each one of my babies were born, only with a fraction of the intensity.

And then the tears came.

And I lifted my eyes to the hills, those beautiful flatironed hills of Boulder, and hiccupping through the sobs, whispered, "My help comes from the LORD...my Deliverer, how much you've brought me through...thank you...thank you...thank you..."

My week after that was kind of a mixed bag.  Kind of like wowed meets "Now what?"  But I've decided that Monday wasn't the end-all for me, despite having been a destination goal.

Now that I've attained it, I say it is only the beginning.

I'm thinking if I could go from hospital bed to 5k in a mere 4 months, and double that in 7 months, there is no reason why I couldn't double it still and do a half-marathon next year.

For now, I've just been going when I can and loving it.
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Friday, May 28, 2010

Foodie Friday - Healthy Breakfast

It's been a crazy week, this first week of summer with all the kids at home, and I find myself trying to busy them in order to avoid the inevitable, "Maaaaa-maaaaaaa!  I am SO BORED"s but in doing so, I have neglected my normal upkeep of the house duties.  Turns out I do a hell of a lot each day.  Which means, after a week of attempting a summer activities routine, that I have a HUGE amount of catch up to do.

I do, however, recognize that it is Friday.  And I do have recipes (yes, that is plural!) for you today.  Without further adieu, bring on Foodie Friday!

Foodie Fridays by Ramblin Red

But, a recipe with no story isn't really a Ramblin' Red kinda thing, now is it?

Story first, food later.

So the other day I was asking what I should make for the next day's dinner, and Seth says, "We haven't done breakfast for dinner in a long time."

And we hadn't.  For a reason.  

Namely it is that I have come to the realization that while my activity level is high and I've lost not only weight but several inches upon maintaining my current poundage for some six months (which, by the way, how does one properly answer the question when someone says, "Hey, you look great, you've lost a bunch of weight, huh?" and the truth is that you're the same weight you've been but you have dropped a size in those same 6 months?) and while this is good and great, the fact remains that my diet is unchanged and thus I'm maintaining, and I'd really still like to lose another 25 lbs, and generally just take ownership of the whole shebang, food and exercise, in order to be a fit and healthy mama, like Jen is doing.  And Headless Mom.

(Disclaimer for all you who are about to say, "You're looking GREAT just. the. way. you. are!" : My BMI still registers me as "obese," and while I know that BMI alone places people with no body fat and obscene amounts of muscle mass - can you say body builders -  in this same category thus it is not a perfect measure, the truth is I weigh 25 lbs more than I did a few years back when my doctor told me I could stand to lose another 10 - so, I do not think I'm setting the bar too terribly high, thankyouverymuch :) )  

Aaaaaaaaaaannd our breakfast for dinner usually includes BACON, and eggs FRIED in BACON GREASE, and biscuits/gravy OR pancakes, and occasionally potatoes that are, uhm, FRIED.

So ya see where I was a little hesitant, now, right?

Plus I'm RUNNING a 10K ON MONDAY and I'd really like to detox and get in some optimum nutrition before hand.

After some consideration, I came up with a pretty darned good alternative, and this was affirmed by my children and husband.


I made whole wheat pancakes (mixed with apple sauce instead of oil) served with non-fat vanilla yogurt and frozen blueberries (warmed in the microwave), lean (1 g fat per slice) ham slices, and a 2 egg omelet with spinach, onion, and tomatoes.

I found this lovely recipe for the pancakes.  Only edits - I omitted the cinnamon (was after a "normal pancake taste), halved the "mix" (which was just shy of 2 cups), doubled the eggs/milk/applesauce, and added a hefty pouring of vanilla (2 1/2 tsp-ish?).  They were SCRUMPTIOUS!  I topped with my FAVORITE yogurt in the whole wide world: Cascade Fresh Vanilla, and heated up the remnants of a bag of frozen blueberries, pouring on top with their juices.  Didn't even miss the maple syrup and butter (which is what my fam had theirs with).

For my* omelet, I beat 2 eggs together in a bowl.  Chopped 1/2 C-ish of spinach, diced 1/2 a roma tomato, and made one paper thin slice of sweet onion, then chopped it up.  Spray 10 inch skillet with cooking spray and heat to medium, pour eggs into pan, place veggies on one half of egg circle.  When egg firms up fold empty half over the veggies, making a semi-circle.  Press down on folded omelet with spatula for about a minute, to seal it up.  Flip over and cook until eggs are firm.

* Yes, MY omelet.  I made poached eggs for the rest of the fam since they are picky about eggs being mixed with other stuff.

I'm not gonna lie, I'm a cheese and hollandaise sauce kinda gal with my omelets, so I was missing some of the "goo" factor, but I just shook on some tabasco and was pleased as pie.

Now, some people who are die-hards about fat and diets say that my whole egg content of this meal made it too fatty, but I don't think fat is BAD or EVIL and knowing that the fat content of my day had been nil thus far, I had no problem consuming it!


© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Penetrating Through the Shadows

Some people think that saying or writing the negative things we think just lends credence to irrational fears, giving them, the fears, the power to cripple oneself, sort of a reverse affirmation if you will.

And I used to agree with them.

But over the past year, so many fears and doubts have lurked in the back of my mind, all ambiguous and shadowy, intangible and so difficult to ascertain just what it is that is robbing my joy that I don't really know what I'm afraid of, just that there is a general sense of trepidation as mental bogeymen hedge about furtively in the depths of my soul.

They're just shadows, too, these bogeymen.

Some are completely warped, the sort that, in the room of a child who is afraid of the dark let's say, appear to be gremlins or hobgoblins and have the ability to not only paralyze a child with fear but also bring with them the gift of wakeful insomnia.  Given some time, explorations [often made by a loving parent], and a flip of the light-switch, these shadows are the ones that are eventually revealed as being the result of the neighbor's misshapen tree outside the bedroom window, blowing in a storm.  Nothing a rational person would fear.

Others may have a basis in reality, but are grossly exaggerated, as most actual shadows are.  For instance, my personal shadow, while based on my body, will at times - depending on the angle of the sun, time of day, etc. - illustrates me as having legs a mile long, with a teensy, tiny little head, and skinny arms that extend forever.  Clearly not a true picture of my actual form!

Anyways, sometimes identifying the shadows, speaking them and what you're feeling, is the first step to illumination and seeing them for what they really are.

[whew - this is turning into a lengthy preamble - who's still with me?]

All of this to say that yesterday, I went running for the first time since Thursday [on account of I had some knee pain last week and was trying to rest it a bit].  My knees felt great (Praise GOD!), I was feeling good, hit my mile right at 10:02 [which is not my fastest but is a good comfortable pace for me] and kept going.

Until about 1.5 miles.

Suddenly my legs were tight, my lungs constricting, my body burning with fatigue.  Out came the bogeymen, their shadowy appendages poking at my heart but never fully revealing themselves.  [in less flowery vernacular, and more concisely put - my stress level had a detrimental impact on my performance - but that is too simple and not rambly enough for this blog, eh?  Also?  You don't say? Stress can kill performance, well, how about that!]

So I walked.

But I didn't walk in defeat.  I was in tears, and some of the fears were really getting me.

You're not going to make it at Boulder.  All this hype, all this work for a YEAR and you are going to let your fears get you and paralyze you.

I cried out, like a child afraid of the dark, for my Father.  My Heavenly Father.  I begged Him to come into the dark, shadow-filled recesses of my mind and flood His light into the space - so that the cause of the shadows could be exposed, and I could see the hobgoblins for the trees they may have been.

I realized that as some of the fears shifted from the shadows into an actual form, that is a thought, that these thoughts were all in the 2nd person - YOU statements, not I statements.


And this is where I hesitate - as I always get self-conscious talking about spiritual warfare and "voices" having worked with people who audibly heard voices in their heads.  The need to disclaim "This is different," sits within me.

In the negative inner dialogs of my mind, I have plenty of I statements, more than I'd care to admit, so this is not just an observation of mental semantics, a rationalization made of split hairs.  No, as I realized this, I felt as if someone or something was feeding me these thoughts.

From the beginning of this journey, I have desired my running accomplishments to be a testament to God's redemptive work in my body, a way to open the door to talk about the greater works He has done in my whole life.  I didn't want the glory, but for God to have it, as He deserves it.  And yet, here was this voice, making it all about me, and what I could or couldn't do.

Meanwhile, my Father did as asked of Him and put His Word upon my heart: cliché as it may sound, scenes from David and Goliath flashed in my mind.

In regards to the voice of negativity, I was reminded of Saul telling David that he shouldn't even think of trying to take the giant down.  Also?  That I CAN run 6.2 miles, because I did it about a month ago.  And I will again, because I hadn't even made it for a full 3 miles before I ran my 5k.

Finally, regarding who gets credit - David's confidence in the Lord and words to Goliath just before he accomplished the most widely known TKO of history rang in my ears:

"... but I come to you in the name of the Lord of Heaven’s Armies—the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. Today the Lord will conquer you... and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel!  And everyone assembled here will know that the Lord rescues his people, but not with sword and spear. This is the Lord’s battle, and he will give you to us!”
There are half a dozen other bogeymen crouching in my mind's eye that I must shed some light on - so if I'm on the quiet side, just know that I'm working through some things.
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved