Once upon a mushy face

I title this photo: 

" When Good Faces Go Wrong" 

Or

"This Is Your Face on Motherhood" 

Or

"If Andrea Were an Alien"

I could write these things all day.  

Once upon the ramblings of a tired lady

I'm tired. It just came on out of no where. I was fine all day at work and then I got home and wham - I'm a walking (well actually not walking more like melting slowly into my comfy couch) zombie.

But I wanted to share a few things and give an update.

#1
I have decided that I am done with trips. We just had two fabulous trips. Salt Lake City and a camping trip. They were wonderful and memories that will last a life time (or so I hope. That was my mantra as I dealt with grumpy kids "These are memories that will last a lifetime) were made. I would like to tell you all about it. The hikes and food and friends and conference and adventures but I am too tired. See this is what memories that last a lifetime do to me. They wipe me out to the point that I can't even write them down for posterity. So basically I will probably forget them within in a year.

Also being tired makes me grumpy.

#2
I had a really awesome insight at church yesterday. It was amazing and new learning for me and I really want to share it. But I am
1. Too tired
2. Still sorting and making sense of it all. I want to spend some time journaling and will share when I can...

But the part that I really want to hang onto - is that if I would have left early, or stayed home sick or a million other excuses that show up when I want to escape the crowds at church and go home to my quiet sanctuary of a house - I would have missed out on that moment. I have a job that I love - but that takes a lot from me. There is a cost for sitting in the depths of others pain and trials. And I spend a lot of time with people - giving them my full heart and full attention. So weekends and time off work I have become greedy with.  And this new temptation has shown up. I can be at home alone - in complete silence. No one else's energy. No one asking anything of me. I can read.  I can think. I can sort.

And I can choose that.  Awesome thing agency.
And I won't get punished.
I spent a lot of years running from the punishing God - just to find out He doesn't usually work that way. Ever.
But I can miss out. I could have missed out on that clear moment when I KNEW something so clear and true that it changed me. A little bolt of intelligence that would still be floating out there -who knows how long before that opportunity would have been available to me again.
Not sure if this is making any sense to anyone else - but yesterday I got it. I don't want to miss those little gifts.

There is something magical about being in the right place at the right time. And we all know based on my obsession with Harry Potter - that I LOVE magic.





PS. Thought I should just offer a moment of silence for the poor Mr. Tyler who is really not enjoying school these days. It breaks my heart. And I feel that this face he is making not only represents his feelings about going to school but mine about sending him as well. I think we should just quit school and lay on the couch and eat chocolate pudding all day. This could be the fatigue speaking.

Once upon a heartbreak

I'm blogging on my phone. And I'm pretty leery about it. I've just barely gotten to the point that I feel capable of expressing my innermost thoughts and feelings, which is what usually ends up spilling out in my blogs, with my laptop. Now trying to dig into the crevices of my heart using the same device that's responsible for cat photos and Lol being sent out...it's just weird. 

We'll see what happens. 

I am in Utah today. Andrea + traveling = forgetful city. 

Thus the phone blogging and my beloved laptop sitting lonely in Arizona. 

I love Utah. I love the weather. I love the people, the scenery, the church buildings and roots, the memories I have here. 

And yet today there's this heaviness. 

I was sitting in the tabernacle when a text buzzed my phone. 

I am not surprised. I am not surprised. I am not surprised. I feel the need to show that I wasn't surprised, that I wasn't naive and gullible enough to believe that it would be different this time. And my brain wasn't. My brain was absolutely certain of the outcome. My brain knew with 100% certainty that this would end in pain. And my heart knew it too. Well 99% of my heart knew it.  98% percent of my heart knew. 

But then there was the 2% that was still holding on. Holding onto the hope that this time it would be different. That damn 2% that still waits for the miracle. If I had to guess- that believing 2% is an 9 year old girl who walks the long drive way to the mailbox everyday hoping there will be a letter from her mom inside. It's the little girl who tried to always be good hoping that eventually she'd be good enough to have a mom who loved her. 

If I had to guess that 2% that keeps going back is a tiny little girl who aches and so desperately needs her moms approval so that she can stop feeling so worthless. 

I get it. I know it's not about me. I really do. I could analyze it all the day long about the illness that creates this.  I spent a lot of years working to help that little girl find healing. To help her see that this was NOT about her. It's a good story about how this heart was healed...and one that i will someday share. 

But that 2% she doesn't get it. That little sliver of me that shows up every so often still wants a mom. Hopes for a family and all that brings. 

And sitting there in the tabernacle with hot tears welling up in my eyes I remembered a conversation with a client. 

 "Instead of judging how you feel, belittling,   stuffing, and running from it- could you try honoring it. Letting it show up and feel it. " 

And so I let the hot tears stream down my checks. Reality sinking in- I don't have a mom- and the sadness and loss that I have lived before with this realization hits again. 

And then the miracle comes. The lesson that took me years to discover. That after the pain, the emotion- that for a moment feels like it may swallow me up- passes (and it always passes) there comes the peace and clarity. The truth.

"You are loved" "You are good" "You are not alone...never have been" 

And I look down at the manly hand holding mine. Strong and protective. I look to my left and see these two boys who prove I'm the luckiest girl on earth. 

Me with the dashing Mr. Tyler. Seriously the fall colors were calling my name.