But it's almost 11 and I need to go to the bank and figure out why my new ATM card hasn't arrived.
So I'll dazzle ya some other time. Have a lovely weekend.
Oh, shut up. You didn't come here to read. I have archives, you know. I'm going to shut this one down and reconfigure and start working on some typical Cari writing, more true to my style with publishing in mind, not blabbering.
Take now, for instance.
Medicated X One Year. Yeah, it's working.
Later.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Catching you up....
What can I tell you about my first year of ADHD medication? A few things. I still feel like a sell out, and in truth, I'm not taking it because I believe it helps curb the negative symptoms of ADHD. I am taking a pill so others can feel better about me. I am also taking it because I have lost 31 lbs. since October. I am ready for cooler weather so I can start walking and see if I can get back to losing, cause I've stalled out. Finally, I'm taking it because my kids say there's a huge difference. Especially in trips to Wal-Mart.
The only way I know how to explain my difficulty shopping is this: if you go to the store for a certain product, you will return with that product, maybe an impulse item or two. Not me. I will go to the shampoo aisle, say, and instead of seeing an aisle with shampoo and grabbing the ONE I like and always use, I see one million individual bottles in all the colors and sizes, and I have to inspect each one to make my decision. Now, you compound that with everything else on my normal grocery list, you'll understand. Many times I'll go for one thing, spend $200 on impluse items, and get home without what I went for anyway.
I did notice when I went sans-pill to WalMart, it was a very long and frustrating trip. And I lost my car. Sighhhh.....
The only way I know how to explain my difficulty shopping is this: if you go to the store for a certain product, you will return with that product, maybe an impulse item or two. Not me. I will go to the shampoo aisle, say, and instead of seeing an aisle with shampoo and grabbing the ONE I like and always use, I see one million individual bottles in all the colors and sizes, and I have to inspect each one to make my decision. Now, you compound that with everything else on my normal grocery list, you'll understand. Many times I'll go for one thing, spend $200 on impluse items, and get home without what I went for anyway.
I did notice when I went sans-pill to WalMart, it was a very long and frustrating trip. And I lost my car. Sighhhh.....
Monday, January 05, 2009
Radiate
Moses was a cool guy. I love studying the Old Testament, but I'm especially drawn to Moses right now. What a passion he had for people! If you read about God's anger against the Israelites in their idolatry, you then see Moses pleading for their lives, offering to give his own in their place. Paul did the same thing, but get this: Paul had the knowledge that God would not allow that; he knew that a man could only answer for his own sin. Moses had no idea. He only knew that God required death for sin, and that a sacrifice was acceptable. Moses really and truly offered to go to hell for those people in earnest. How heavy his heart must have been as he went to be with God, to offer his own life!
Moses spent a lot of time with God. In fact, so much so that he got to speak to Him face to face, like a friend. He didn't get to see His face, but He did get to have intimate conversation with Him! God even allowed Moses to see all of His goodness, and He proclaimed His name. The Lord! The Lord! The compassionate God! What must it have been like to hear His voice?
Later, the people stood at their tents to watch Moses go and speak to God. Moses, who radiated the glory of God, was going to speak to God for the people. It occurs to me that I am not content to watch someone else display the glory of God and to speak to Him for me. I want to be with God. I want to radiate His glory, and to stand as a witness of Him!
Moses spent a lot of time with God. In fact, so much so that he got to speak to Him face to face, like a friend. He didn't get to see His face, but He did get to have intimate conversation with Him! God even allowed Moses to see all of His goodness, and He proclaimed His name. The Lord! The Lord! The compassionate God! What must it have been like to hear His voice?
Later, the people stood at their tents to watch Moses go and speak to God. Moses, who radiated the glory of God, was going to speak to God for the people. It occurs to me that I am not content to watch someone else display the glory of God and to speak to Him for me. I want to be with God. I want to radiate His glory, and to stand as a witness of Him!
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Chemically Enhanced
Well, I decided not to blog every experience of every day. It kind of dawned on me that I was over-analyzing, so I've decided to just get on with the trial and look back and notice things. I've noticed that taking a stimulant with no sleep is stupid. Your body is exhausted and doesn't want to move but your mouth didn't get the memo. It's how I would describe being possessed, I suppose. I've also noticed that if I take it super early, then get home and take melatonin around 8, I sleep well. But still wake up spinning. And then there's the urge just to open my mouth and let everything in my brain spill out. I see more of a need for organization but really no ability to prioritize and do what needs to be done. It's like hyperfocus, all day every day. I seem to have lost the ability to jump from project to project.
I don't know if the omega-3 pill is doing anything, but it's good for my heart so I'll keep taking it. I love the idea of a daily vitamin.
My appetite is still gone. I eat a little each day, and then when the pill wears off I'm hungry and have to be careful about what I eat. I'll weigh at the end of next week to see if I changed any.
That's all. I'm good. Sunday was a great day, today not too bad, I'm just going to have to relearn some things. Honestly, if I can't work it out by the end of the trial and I haven't lost weight, I'll not refill. I feel like a sell-out taking it anyway.
I don't know if the omega-3 pill is doing anything, but it's good for my heart so I'll keep taking it. I love the idea of a daily vitamin.
My appetite is still gone. I eat a little each day, and then when the pill wears off I'm hungry and have to be careful about what I eat. I'll weigh at the end of next week to see if I changed any.
That's all. I'm good. Sunday was a great day, today not too bad, I'm just going to have to relearn some things. Honestly, if I can't work it out by the end of the trial and I haven't lost weight, I'll not refill. I feel like a sell-out taking it anyway.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Official Day One
7:45am. I took my first correct dose. By 9 I was happy and chatty. No racing heart, no rush, but by 9:30 I felt a little warm and euphoric. It's not enough to tell if there is a difference, or if I am feeling relief after my 2 crazy days (previous post), or if it's a psychological high from the idea of being high. I am extremely energetic today, talkative, and per a co-worker, intensely focused, and I seem to not tolerate distractions well. Where before I was resigned to quickly shifting focus from task to task and then forgetting to go back, now I feel like a pitbull with my jaws locked and no intention of letting go. Maybe not that intense. It is 2:15 and I have no interest in eating. I skipped lunch because I was too busy to eat (that does NOT happen in my world) and have no interest in eating now. I will eat dinner tonite and try to get myself on a healthy diet, so that I get nutrition. If this remains permanent I think I could probably get on a real-live healthy diet, eating only what I need to and not everything that looks good.
Seriously, I could turn down fried food right now and not blink an eye. Nothing sounds good.
Derek said that I was strangely talkative this am from the time I got up. I didn't sleep great last nite even after 2 melatonin-I kept waking up and feeling an annoyance that it was too light in our room. It's possible that I woke up just as the first lights were making the black sky blue, and after fully waking just remembered it as all night, but I don't think so. Could I have heightened senses? I remember also being really aware of scent. Not bad, not good, just scent.
Right now I feel really good, having a good day, am tapping and drumming a lot. This is not a magical pill that has caused me to become Martha Stewart, but last night I caught myself squirting toilet cleaner in the loo while brushing my teeth, which I did obsessively for several minutes. My teeth, not the loo. Turns out, when you do that and wait awhile to flush, it sort of cleans itself. This morning I was in a decent mood instead of my normal brooding self, and I just started doing the dishes before work. And again brushed my teeth obsessively for several minutes.
Even with the generally good feeling, I am suspicious and cautious. I am not comfortable feeling good. I know that may be hard to understand, but basically I was comfortable and accustomed to my life. A better me may not be me, and I do't know that I want to be anyone else. I don't want to have to relearn life skills such as socialization and how to clean a toilet. How come I didn't know that before? That seems pretty basic. It's like on the old Rugrats show where Chucky got tired of being conspicuous with red hair so he colored it black. Then no one noticed him, like he was invisible, which he hated. I guess I have a need for attention and fear just being "one in the crowd." Change is always viewed with suspicion, and I may actually have to go thru grief stages if the "me" I knew is dying. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. In any order, at any pace, and randomly switching from one to the other and back again until full acceptance is acheived. But that's just a medical/psychological thing that I may be reading too much into or making too much out of. I seem pretty preoccupied with this. Better get my mind back to work and quit dwelling.
Anyway, that's as up-to-date as today will get because I have church tonite. Unless there are important symptoms to report, this is all. Oh-no facial twitch today. Maybe that was stress.
Seriously, I could turn down fried food right now and not blink an eye. Nothing sounds good.
Derek said that I was strangely talkative this am from the time I got up. I didn't sleep great last nite even after 2 melatonin-I kept waking up and feeling an annoyance that it was too light in our room. It's possible that I woke up just as the first lights were making the black sky blue, and after fully waking just remembered it as all night, but I don't think so. Could I have heightened senses? I remember also being really aware of scent. Not bad, not good, just scent.
Right now I feel really good, having a good day, am tapping and drumming a lot. This is not a magical pill that has caused me to become Martha Stewart, but last night I caught myself squirting toilet cleaner in the loo while brushing my teeth, which I did obsessively for several minutes. My teeth, not the loo. Turns out, when you do that and wait awhile to flush, it sort of cleans itself. This morning I was in a decent mood instead of my normal brooding self, and I just started doing the dishes before work. And again brushed my teeth obsessively for several minutes.
Even with the generally good feeling, I am suspicious and cautious. I am not comfortable feeling good. I know that may be hard to understand, but basically I was comfortable and accustomed to my life. A better me may not be me, and I do't know that I want to be anyone else. I don't want to have to relearn life skills such as socialization and how to clean a toilet. How come I didn't know that before? That seems pretty basic. It's like on the old Rugrats show where Chucky got tired of being conspicuous with red hair so he colored it black. Then no one noticed him, like he was invisible, which he hated. I guess I have a need for attention and fear just being "one in the crowd." Change is always viewed with suspicion, and I may actually have to go thru grief stages if the "me" I knew is dying. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. In any order, at any pace, and randomly switching from one to the other and back again until full acceptance is acheived. But that's just a medical/psychological thing that I may be reading too much into or making too much out of. I seem pretty preoccupied with this. Better get my mind back to work and quit dwelling.
Anyway, that's as up-to-date as today will get because I have church tonite. Unless there are important symptoms to report, this is all. Oh-no facial twitch today. Maybe that was stress.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
I changed my mind. Sue me.
I know what I said. 100% against medication for ADHD. The counselor made a compelling arguement, though, and although I don't believe you should have to argue your patients into medications they are uneasy about, medically his research was mostly sound. I will not post or share his name as this is not a blog for or against him personally or professionally. And so I don't misremember, he wasn't inappropriately pushy.
This will be the objective (I hope) journal of my 30 day trial with Vyvanse. It is a way that I can have some sort of record of my experience. For those of you who know me and read me, I would love your feed back, especially if you see me a lot and notice any changes, negative or positive, that could be attributed to medication. My family is under strict orders to flush the meds if I seem unnaturally agitated or anxious after a few days of adjustment, or if I get weird, bad-edgy, lethargic, stupid, or turn into a Stepford Wife. My daughter is under strict order to shoot Derek and flush the meds if I become a Stepford Wife and he doesn't let on. My kids have permission to go stay at grandma's (any grandma's, preferably in another state) if they hear me complain about the wire hangers. (I don't like them for my clothes because you get shoulder-nipples in your sweaters, but they come in handy when I lock myself out of my car, an unfortunate and frequent habit of ADHD people. But really, they're just wire hangers. If I get freaky about it...)
If you are afraid of me for any reason and don't want to honestly tell me how you feel about my decision or any side effects you notice, you can tell Derek and he will anonymously post for you. That way, I'm getting feedback. I promise as your friend not to hold any comments against you or take offense for what you say. I don't need any help adjusting my personality, so this is not an opportunity for you to "fix" things about me that you didn't like before. I will know. And I will find you. I might add that I'm not sure this is the best time for strong negative opinions; if you feel you need to be ugly, then come to me personally and I'll show you why God gives some of us red hair, and why you're really lucky we're only 1% of the world. Seriously, though, I appreciate your honest opinion stated in love for me, your dear friend. Any fears about my taking medication are appreciated and understood, but you can't possibly be more concerned or worried than I am. Rest assured that I have been praying and seeking counsel, researching diligently, and have multiple plans with family and medical and mental health professionals in place should anyone (who knows me intimately) see any problems. Really, that is all the further you need to read unless you're interested in the minutae and tedium of what happened today. Should you decide to read on, note the following disclaimer-it may not be appropriate for the genteel with its vague hormonal references, and really, it's pretty dull and basically just a personal medical record of sorts. Absent the details, of course. I would be happy (probably disproportionately so) to answer any questions you have about ADHD as a medical issue (not at all psychological, though it has many mental and psychosocial manifestations) as it is a totally exciting, fascinating, and bewildering thing. But then, I kind of have this obsessive self-focus thing going on.
OK, so day one. I picked up my medication and even though the pharmacist said I should start fresh in the morning, I went ahead and took a pill this afternoon. One GLARING warning of this medication, which the counselor, prescribing MD and, disappointingly even the pharmacist deny, is a tendency toward addiction. This is an issue I will take up with them at my follow-up appointments. At about 5pm, a few hours after I took it, I did feel a little euphoria which was not at all unpleasant. I was seeing patients in their homes (literally, not hallucenogenically) and felt rather happy to see them, and extremely chatty. This is my way, to be chatty, but not with an elated euphoric feeling. If you've ever taken an opiate drug for pain (Lortab, Vicodin, hydrocodone, Percocet...) and LIKED it, this very much mimics the euphoric effects in strength but not duration. An addict may be prone to try and recapture or extend that feeling by over-dosing (not overdosing). Derek will be handling my pills for the duration of the experiment, because while I don't feel any kind of need or desire to take another pill, I rather liked the warmth and general feeling of well-being. By 5:15 I was merrily on my way home from my last patient's house about 5 miles from my own. Strangely, I chose to take South Western, which is best avoided at all times, but especially at this time. I had gone a full 2 miles when I realized I was going 35 mph behind an old man, contentedly tapping my fingers on the seat with no music playing. 3 extremely uncharacteristic traits-driving slowly without feeling road rage (the mild kind, not the murderous kind) drumming happily to no music, and not needing music blaring to take the edge off. Classic rock. BobFM or 107.7. Just in case you were wondering. I then realized that I felt hyper-aware of stuff going on around me: I noticed the car in front of me braking, felt the lanes around me that were clear or congested, and just had a level-headed feeling. I am an edgy, fast, and fairly dangerous driver. A recent news story said that there were questions about whether or not ADHD people were safe behind the wheel. For us, yes. For you, honestly, I have to say not. In my case, I have had several speeding tickets (I honestly do not feel I am going that fast, especially on open roads with little traffic, including rush hour) and a couple of accidents.
Well, by 6ish, I had come home and showered, (it's a nurse thing, I think) and Derek, who was off today, called me to dinner. Yes, we have Stepford Husband days. I came to eat the most perfect spicy grilled chicken on baby spring mix salad, with a corn and black bean dip and chips, and as of now, 9:10pm, I have been picking at a moderate serving for almost two hours. This is good food, and I have little appetite.
My kids have gone to their rooms because I am feeling this uncomfortable anxious feeling and things (noise, movement, activity) are getting on my nerves. It could be hormonal which is appropriate today (sorry guys-you were warned) or it could be because I have had a very long and exciting couple of days. Yesterday was chaotic and exciting, then as I began preparing for my appointment today, I called an old friend from my ER days who is a drug counselor and one of the most honest people I've ever known. We haven't spoken in about 3 years, since I left the ER and a little after, and I was devestated to learn he'd lost his battle with cancer. Last year. No one would have known to call me, so I can't be angry, but I cried myself to sleep with this tremendous sense of loss. I took melatonin as usual but couldn't sleep until around midnightish, and woke around 5:30. I say all that because on a good, busy ADHD day it isn't abnormal to have a type of depression or "day after Christmas" let down, and since I've been on sensory overload since about 9am yesterday, I could be facing that. Kind of like marathon runners who get depressed after finishing a race they've been preparing for.
See what I mean about chatty?
Right now, I think the agitation is wearing off. I looked at my plate just now sitting beside me and saw this strange wavy pattern, sort of like the reflection of fan blades, but not. Maybe more like gas fumes, but just on my plate. Ashton finally came back in to talk to me and I didn't feel at all bothered by her. That's not hormonal. Hormonal is all day. I've either chilled out from my long day, or it's the med wearing off.
I don't feel at all sleepy so I'm going to double up on my melatonin tonite to be sure I get a good night's sleep, and then start again in the morning. I can't believe how much I've written. This is like ADHD hyperfocus, but I can't say it's as great as hyperfocus, yet. We'll see when I am taking these pills regular. If so, look for my novel to be out later this fall.
Agitation is gone, strange vision has gone, and I feel kind of normal. My face has been twitchy for about two hours. I forgot to mention that. I feel like I could stay and write but I really need to make myself get on a good sleep schedule.
This will be the objective (I hope) journal of my 30 day trial with Vyvanse. It is a way that I can have some sort of record of my experience. For those of you who know me and read me, I would love your feed back, especially if you see me a lot and notice any changes, negative or positive, that could be attributed to medication. My family is under strict orders to flush the meds if I seem unnaturally agitated or anxious after a few days of adjustment, or if I get weird, bad-edgy, lethargic, stupid, or turn into a Stepford Wife. My daughter is under strict order to shoot Derek and flush the meds if I become a Stepford Wife and he doesn't let on. My kids have permission to go stay at grandma's (any grandma's, preferably in another state) if they hear me complain about the wire hangers. (I don't like them for my clothes because you get shoulder-nipples in your sweaters, but they come in handy when I lock myself out of my car, an unfortunate and frequent habit of ADHD people. But really, they're just wire hangers. If I get freaky about it...)
If you are afraid of me for any reason and don't want to honestly tell me how you feel about my decision or any side effects you notice, you can tell Derek and he will anonymously post for you. That way, I'm getting feedback. I promise as your friend not to hold any comments against you or take offense for what you say. I don't need any help adjusting my personality, so this is not an opportunity for you to "fix" things about me that you didn't like before. I will know. And I will find you. I might add that I'm not sure this is the best time for strong negative opinions; if you feel you need to be ugly, then come to me personally and I'll show you why God gives some of us red hair, and why you're really lucky we're only 1% of the world. Seriously, though, I appreciate your honest opinion stated in love for me, your dear friend. Any fears about my taking medication are appreciated and understood, but you can't possibly be more concerned or worried than I am. Rest assured that I have been praying and seeking counsel, researching diligently, and have multiple plans with family and medical and mental health professionals in place should anyone (who knows me intimately) see any problems. Really, that is all the further you need to read unless you're interested in the minutae and tedium of what happened today. Should you decide to read on, note the following disclaimer-it may not be appropriate for the genteel with its vague hormonal references, and really, it's pretty dull and basically just a personal medical record of sorts. Absent the details, of course. I would be happy (probably disproportionately so) to answer any questions you have about ADHD as a medical issue (not at all psychological, though it has many mental and psychosocial manifestations) as it is a totally exciting, fascinating, and bewildering thing. But then, I kind of have this obsessive self-focus thing going on.
OK, so day one. I picked up my medication and even though the pharmacist said I should start fresh in the morning, I went ahead and took a pill this afternoon. One GLARING warning of this medication, which the counselor, prescribing MD and, disappointingly even the pharmacist deny, is a tendency toward addiction. This is an issue I will take up with them at my follow-up appointments. At about 5pm, a few hours after I took it, I did feel a little euphoria which was not at all unpleasant. I was seeing patients in their homes (literally, not hallucenogenically) and felt rather happy to see them, and extremely chatty. This is my way, to be chatty, but not with an elated euphoric feeling. If you've ever taken an opiate drug for pain (Lortab, Vicodin, hydrocodone, Percocet...) and LIKED it, this very much mimics the euphoric effects in strength but not duration. An addict may be prone to try and recapture or extend that feeling by over-dosing (not overdosing). Derek will be handling my pills for the duration of the experiment, because while I don't feel any kind of need or desire to take another pill, I rather liked the warmth and general feeling of well-being. By 5:15 I was merrily on my way home from my last patient's house about 5 miles from my own. Strangely, I chose to take South Western, which is best avoided at all times, but especially at this time. I had gone a full 2 miles when I realized I was going 35 mph behind an old man, contentedly tapping my fingers on the seat with no music playing. 3 extremely uncharacteristic traits-driving slowly without feeling road rage (the mild kind, not the murderous kind) drumming happily to no music, and not needing music blaring to take the edge off. Classic rock. BobFM or 107.7. Just in case you were wondering. I then realized that I felt hyper-aware of stuff going on around me: I noticed the car in front of me braking, felt the lanes around me that were clear or congested, and just had a level-headed feeling. I am an edgy, fast, and fairly dangerous driver. A recent news story said that there were questions about whether or not ADHD people were safe behind the wheel. For us, yes. For you, honestly, I have to say not. In my case, I have had several speeding tickets (I honestly do not feel I am going that fast, especially on open roads with little traffic, including rush hour) and a couple of accidents.
Well, by 6ish, I had come home and showered, (it's a nurse thing, I think) and Derek, who was off today, called me to dinner. Yes, we have Stepford Husband days. I came to eat the most perfect spicy grilled chicken on baby spring mix salad, with a corn and black bean dip and chips, and as of now, 9:10pm, I have been picking at a moderate serving for almost two hours. This is good food, and I have little appetite.
My kids have gone to their rooms because I am feeling this uncomfortable anxious feeling and things (noise, movement, activity) are getting on my nerves. It could be hormonal which is appropriate today (sorry guys-you were warned) or it could be because I have had a very long and exciting couple of days. Yesterday was chaotic and exciting, then as I began preparing for my appointment today, I called an old friend from my ER days who is a drug counselor and one of the most honest people I've ever known. We haven't spoken in about 3 years, since I left the ER and a little after, and I was devestated to learn he'd lost his battle with cancer. Last year. No one would have known to call me, so I can't be angry, but I cried myself to sleep with this tremendous sense of loss. I took melatonin as usual but couldn't sleep until around midnightish, and woke around 5:30. I say all that because on a good, busy ADHD day it isn't abnormal to have a type of depression or "day after Christmas" let down, and since I've been on sensory overload since about 9am yesterday, I could be facing that. Kind of like marathon runners who get depressed after finishing a race they've been preparing for.
See what I mean about chatty?
Right now, I think the agitation is wearing off. I looked at my plate just now sitting beside me and saw this strange wavy pattern, sort of like the reflection of fan blades, but not. Maybe more like gas fumes, but just on my plate. Ashton finally came back in to talk to me and I didn't feel at all bothered by her. That's not hormonal. Hormonal is all day. I've either chilled out from my long day, or it's the med wearing off.
I don't feel at all sleepy so I'm going to double up on my melatonin tonite to be sure I get a good night's sleep, and then start again in the morning. I can't believe how much I've written. This is like ADHD hyperfocus, but I can't say it's as great as hyperfocus, yet. We'll see when I am taking these pills regular. If so, look for my novel to be out later this fall.
Agitation is gone, strange vision has gone, and I feel kind of normal. My face has been twitchy for about two hours. I forgot to mention that. I feel like I could stay and write but I really need to make myself get on a good sleep schedule.
Monday, September 29, 2008
A Significant Distinction
I was watching The Early Show while getting ready for work this morning and Bill Maher was discussing his new movie, "Reliculous" with Harry Smith, about ridiculous religion. I agree that we have our ridiculous ideals about how things should be, and while our actions are wrong, our motives are basically right-to want the world to be saved. At one point, Harry Smith said something to the affect of wanting Christians to actually act like Christ, and just love people, and Bill Maher agreed.
I got to thinking. It would be perfect if we'd all pull our heads out of our by-laws and book of don'ts and began to get active in the world and show some love. But the stark reality is that many people, while they say they want love, want simply a blind eye.
My children, when they were small, would be so angry at me for stopping them from doing things that would hurt them. Oh, they would scream as if I had caused them physical pain with the word 'no'. They were impetuous, and couldn't understand my love for them.
Not to call the people of this world children, but how many would really change if we showed them true unconditional love?
Does this require me to be parental, helping to guide someone to The Truth? Yes, I believe it does. Does this allow me to be militant, and a keeper of the law, passing out judgment to all who would dare to break a rule, or even bend one? No, I think not. The thing is, I can never know for sure how the world will react to God's love thru me unless I'm willing to show it.
I believe that for the most part the world genuinely wants love. But I also believe that there are impetuous people who would define that love as turning a blind eye.
Live by example, love unconditionally, and remember I'm not responsible for the action or reaction of another. I have my marching orders.
I got to thinking. It would be perfect if we'd all pull our heads out of our by-laws and book of don'ts and began to get active in the world and show some love. But the stark reality is that many people, while they say they want love, want simply a blind eye.
My children, when they were small, would be so angry at me for stopping them from doing things that would hurt them. Oh, they would scream as if I had caused them physical pain with the word 'no'. They were impetuous, and couldn't understand my love for them.
Not to call the people of this world children, but how many would really change if we showed them true unconditional love?
Does this require me to be parental, helping to guide someone to The Truth? Yes, I believe it does. Does this allow me to be militant, and a keeper of the law, passing out judgment to all who would dare to break a rule, or even bend one? No, I think not. The thing is, I can never know for sure how the world will react to God's love thru me unless I'm willing to show it.
I believe that for the most part the world genuinely wants love. But I also believe that there are impetuous people who would define that love as turning a blind eye.
Live by example, love unconditionally, and remember I'm not responsible for the action or reaction of another. I have my marching orders.
A Perfect Morning at Work
Chaos. Disorder. Everything flying at me, not a chance to rest. Continuous interuptions and demands for my immediate attention. The morning seemed to fly by in a matter of minutes. And then stopped.
I look at my IN box knowing that I have more to do, but unless it's flying right at my head, I can't seem to find the motivation to go on. So I glare at the papers and they just sit there, no matter how ferocious my gaze.
I know that lack of motivation is not and excuse. It is a reason. So I'm going to try my best and conquer a small part of my mess at record time and hope that I find something urgent that has to be done yesterday.
I look at my IN box knowing that I have more to do, but unless it's flying right at my head, I can't seem to find the motivation to go on. So I glare at the papers and they just sit there, no matter how ferocious my gaze.
I know that lack of motivation is not and excuse. It is a reason. So I'm going to try my best and conquer a small part of my mess at record time and hope that I find something urgent that has to be done yesterday.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Then there's the "are you kidding me" days...
10 applicants. 5 were felons. 3 had no driver's license. Of the two remaining, one didn't carry car insurance and the other showed up with a child for the interview. I had to make the one return when she chose to get legal, and the other I had a ball interviewing.
If I asked you, "describe a typical day," you would regale me with stories of the things you do in your day-to-day life, or just your basic...typicalness. But when I asked this lady to describe a typical day, she actually answered, "Oh, warm and sunny."
I waited for, like, twenty full seconds for the rest of the story. When I realized that was it, I had a belly laugh begin to roll up into my throat. I couldn't speak for fear of laughing out loud. I looked down at my notes and pretended to thoughtfully write, but really it took me some time to compose myself. I finished the rest of the interview smiling big, just ready to get her out the door so I could laugh!
Wow. Where are all the good ones? 2 marginal new employees out of 10. Sigh.
I hired her. I need a laugh.
If I asked you, "describe a typical day," you would regale me with stories of the things you do in your day-to-day life, or just your basic...typicalness. But when I asked this lady to describe a typical day, she actually answered, "Oh, warm and sunny."
I waited for, like, twenty full seconds for the rest of the story. When I realized that was it, I had a belly laugh begin to roll up into my throat. I couldn't speak for fear of laughing out loud. I looked down at my notes and pretended to thoughtfully write, but really it took me some time to compose myself. I finished the rest of the interview smiling big, just ready to get her out the door so I could laugh!
Wow. Where are all the good ones? 2 marginal new employees out of 10. Sigh.
I hired her. I need a laugh.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Hmphf
I am taking melatonin, a hormone that occurs naturally in the body to make us sleep. In the instance of someone whose pineal gland doesn't produce it, you would find someone who doesn't sleep well and is cranky much of the time.
New problem. I wake easier, happier, and can get things together quicker, but by midafternoon my hyperactivity level soars. It's like I got too much sleep and caffeine. I can't focus, I'm extremely fidgety, and get agitated about silly things, like verbal instructions, any comments that seem to question my abilities, or the fact that coffee won't stay hot for 2 hours. Right now I am hitting a place where I feel physically and emotionally beat, but mentally I am still spinning. I don't know what to do with this.
I love how much sleep I'm getting-or rather quality sleep I'm getting. I don't know if it contributes to the afternoon hyperactivity or in contrast makes me more aware of it.
I don't care, I just need to find an outlet. I may start taking workout clothes to the gym at the office and running from 1pm to 2pm. I may lose weight and get relaxed and refocused. Or I may get sweaty and offensive, I don't know.
Okee dokee. Time to make dinner. Yes, this late. I ate a late lunch.
Bye, now!
New problem. I wake easier, happier, and can get things together quicker, but by midafternoon my hyperactivity level soars. It's like I got too much sleep and caffeine. I can't focus, I'm extremely fidgety, and get agitated about silly things, like verbal instructions, any comments that seem to question my abilities, or the fact that coffee won't stay hot for 2 hours. Right now I am hitting a place where I feel physically and emotionally beat, but mentally I am still spinning. I don't know what to do with this.
I love how much sleep I'm getting-or rather quality sleep I'm getting. I don't know if it contributes to the afternoon hyperactivity or in contrast makes me more aware of it.
I don't care, I just need to find an outlet. I may start taking workout clothes to the gym at the office and running from 1pm to 2pm. I may lose weight and get relaxed and refocused. Or I may get sweaty and offensive, I don't know.
Okee dokee. Time to make dinner. Yes, this late. I ate a late lunch.
Bye, now!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
My Frontal Lobe
Finally, a scientific explaination for my head!
The frontal cortex of the brain is what controls impulse, organization, and motivation. Glucose (brain-fuel) is what kicks it into gear. My brain does not have a properly functioning glucose-secretion system (or something like that) and so when I try to concentrate, my brain goes to sleep. No joke! So telling me to focus is like telling the fat kid in gym to run faster. It's not that I don't want to, I'm just not able. I act primarily within the lymbic system-by emotion. This explains my ease in working in an emergency room. I simply react to all that goes on around me. Because of a lack of impulse control, I will say what comes to my mind without thinking of the implications of this action. So if I've ever said anything stupid or rude to you, I totally didn't mean it. This is also why when something funny comes to mind, no matter how inappropriate it is, I'll say it out loud. That's why I entertain you people so much. That's why you people get me at parties, not so much at work.
I don't have a filter!
Turns out, they make pills for that. I have been researching them for two days straight and I still cannot get on board with it. I understand the positives, but the negatives! I'm not sure it's a good trade.
I'm continuing to have the feeling that disorganziation and lack of focus and impulse control are actually not MY problem. Given free reign of my life, I find that I really don't mind it so much. For those of you who have a problem with me, I'm sorry if my behaviour affects you negatively. I certainly don't intend to be a burden on you-but I cannot compromise myself and take a pill for you, so that you'll feel better about me. I hope you understand that I will find a way to cope, and that I'm making it just fine in the world-even though no one actually reads my blog. That's probably a good thing right about now. If you are reading me, thank you, and welcome, and know that I'm not angry. In fact, I feel pretty good right about now.
I'm not at all hostile toward anyone. I really love people. Except teachers. They really don't get me. Wait, some of my dearest peeps are teachers. So just the ones who pass judgement on me. I don't like that.
So here's my decision, subject to change as soon as I post: meds are not for me. Thank you for reading.
The frontal cortex of the brain is what controls impulse, organization, and motivation. Glucose (brain-fuel) is what kicks it into gear. My brain does not have a properly functioning glucose-secretion system (or something like that) and so when I try to concentrate, my brain goes to sleep. No joke! So telling me to focus is like telling the fat kid in gym to run faster. It's not that I don't want to, I'm just not able. I act primarily within the lymbic system-by emotion. This explains my ease in working in an emergency room. I simply react to all that goes on around me. Because of a lack of impulse control, I will say what comes to my mind without thinking of the implications of this action. So if I've ever said anything stupid or rude to you, I totally didn't mean it. This is also why when something funny comes to mind, no matter how inappropriate it is, I'll say it out loud. That's why I entertain you people so much. That's why you people get me at parties, not so much at work.
I don't have a filter!
Turns out, they make pills for that. I have been researching them for two days straight and I still cannot get on board with it. I understand the positives, but the negatives! I'm not sure it's a good trade.
I'm continuing to have the feeling that disorganziation and lack of focus and impulse control are actually not MY problem. Given free reign of my life, I find that I really don't mind it so much. For those of you who have a problem with me, I'm sorry if my behaviour affects you negatively. I certainly don't intend to be a burden on you-but I cannot compromise myself and take a pill for you, so that you'll feel better about me. I hope you understand that I will find a way to cope, and that I'm making it just fine in the world-even though no one actually reads my blog. That's probably a good thing right about now. If you are reading me, thank you, and welcome, and know that I'm not angry. In fact, I feel pretty good right about now.
I'm not at all hostile toward anyone. I really love people. Except teachers. They really don't get me. Wait, some of my dearest peeps are teachers. So just the ones who pass judgement on me. I don't like that.
So here's my decision, subject to change as soon as I post: meds are not for me. Thank you for reading.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Do not drive Rhino
I am experiencing visual disturbances. I do this a lot, but sometimes it's funny. A few days ago I was driving to work, and saw a sign that said "Do not drive Rhino". I couldn't make sense of it in my head and so I turned and looked back. What I saw was a small sign that said "Do not drive on shoulder" and in the distance behind it a large sign advertising Rhino Linings, bed liners for the back of your truck. Somehow my brain put the two together.
Then yesterday we were at work watching TV during lunch. Rachel Ray was preparing something with raw hamburger but I really wasn't watching. We were all talking. As I turned and looked at my co-worker I saw her put a chunk of watermelon-exactly the same color as raw hamburger-in her mouth. My reaction was one of disgust and horror-for a second-until I realized what my brain had done.
That's just crazy.
Have you ever been eating breakfast with milk and orange juice, and while looking at the milk accidentally picked up the oj and drank it, and freaked out? Or is that just me?
Then yesterday we were at work watching TV during lunch. Rachel Ray was preparing something with raw hamburger but I really wasn't watching. We were all talking. As I turned and looked at my co-worker I saw her put a chunk of watermelon-exactly the same color as raw hamburger-in her mouth. My reaction was one of disgust and horror-for a second-until I realized what my brain had done.
That's just crazy.
Have you ever been eating breakfast with milk and orange juice, and while looking at the milk accidentally picked up the oj and drank it, and freaked out? Or is that just me?
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Alone with my thoughts
My thoughts are spaghetti. I'm not a waffle tonite. I never am, but tonite I feel particularly random. That's ok. I don't have to answer to anyone right now.
Today I began counseling-finally following up on my ADD diagnosis from five years ago. The diagnosis was a relief. Today, talking about it with an impartial someone who has knowledge of it, I feel mostly hopeful with a side order of apprehension. From the start I have been 100% against medication, opting for diet and behavior modification, but it doesn't seem to work. Now faced with a choice again, I'm waning. I wonder, what if I could be normal? And in the same thread, do I want to be?
All the what-ifs are there. What if I turn into a lethargic blob on the couch? What if I sleep all the time like my friend? What if I become this really fabulously organized but totally boring person? What if I lose the creativity, the zany humor, the easy laughter? Would that be a worse me, or even me at all? What if my writing suffered? What of passion and drive? What of adventure? Am I so tired of disorganization and lack of focus and motivation that I would compromise ME to have that?
My thoughts right now are that this is a Jekkyl and Hyde decision; the birth of one is the death of the other. I may be way off base about that. If I could keep both, I would be all for it. Mostly. The side effects seem minimal, but still frightening.
Logically, I have a biological problem that calls for medical intervention. Emotionally, I don't want to deal with this right now. Spiritually, if I am fearfully and wonderfully made, maybe there's a purpose in all of this and disorganization is my thorn. Wouldn't it be funny if we got to Heaven and asked Paul what the thorn in his flesh was, and we find out he actually had a thorn?
Dramatically, I am Batman standing above the city, (even though I'm a girl) and the wind is whipping my cape all around in the darkness. I am alone there with my tortured thoughts, glaring into the night. I want to give this all away and just be normal. But maybe the world needs my brand of hero. (This makes me feel good, and these are MY thoughts, as they occur to me. In my spaghetti.)
Humor is the easiest way to deal with this right now because even alone at the keyboard, I'm not as alone as I'll be when I go to bed in a moment and dissolve in a self-piteous flood of tears. There. That's the chink in my armor: a desperate longing just to feel like I'm not a failure as a woman and mom and wife; to be like the other women with their nicely decorated clean homes and who balance their checkbooks without throwing them across the room. That longing is warring with the strong opinion (opinions being a Chenoweth family birthright)that I'm pretty ok like I am, and my friends and family love me, my husband adores me, and the rest of the world can just go on tolerating me because I'm living life my way. (Cue music...)
But I hate the exasperated looks-from people who expect more of me, who don't get why I can't just pull it together and finish this task. I hate sensing that people are tolerating me, and after the antics aren't so funny anymore, I see their frustration or disappointment. I wonder, am I too old to have this crisis?
And I just keep hearing it in my head: fearfully and wonderfully made. He knew me. Long before I was knit together in the secret place. My name is tattooed on His hand. I wouldn't get a tattoo on my hand for just anyone. Neither would He. So I must be special.
Normal. Funny. Distinct and seperate, or can they cohabitate peacefully in the same body?
Wonderfully, even.
Today I began counseling-finally following up on my ADD diagnosis from five years ago. The diagnosis was a relief. Today, talking about it with an impartial someone who has knowledge of it, I feel mostly hopeful with a side order of apprehension. From the start I have been 100% against medication, opting for diet and behavior modification, but it doesn't seem to work. Now faced with a choice again, I'm waning. I wonder, what if I could be normal? And in the same thread, do I want to be?
All the what-ifs are there. What if I turn into a lethargic blob on the couch? What if I sleep all the time like my friend? What if I become this really fabulously organized but totally boring person? What if I lose the creativity, the zany humor, the easy laughter? Would that be a worse me, or even me at all? What if my writing suffered? What of passion and drive? What of adventure? Am I so tired of disorganization and lack of focus and motivation that I would compromise ME to have that?
My thoughts right now are that this is a Jekkyl and Hyde decision; the birth of one is the death of the other. I may be way off base about that. If I could keep both, I would be all for it. Mostly. The side effects seem minimal, but still frightening.
Logically, I have a biological problem that calls for medical intervention. Emotionally, I don't want to deal with this right now. Spiritually, if I am fearfully and wonderfully made, maybe there's a purpose in all of this and disorganization is my thorn. Wouldn't it be funny if we got to Heaven and asked Paul what the thorn in his flesh was, and we find out he actually had a thorn?
Dramatically, I am Batman standing above the city, (even though I'm a girl) and the wind is whipping my cape all around in the darkness. I am alone there with my tortured thoughts, glaring into the night. I want to give this all away and just be normal. But maybe the world needs my brand of hero. (This makes me feel good, and these are MY thoughts, as they occur to me. In my spaghetti.)
Humor is the easiest way to deal with this right now because even alone at the keyboard, I'm not as alone as I'll be when I go to bed in a moment and dissolve in a self-piteous flood of tears. There. That's the chink in my armor: a desperate longing just to feel like I'm not a failure as a woman and mom and wife; to be like the other women with their nicely decorated clean homes and who balance their checkbooks without throwing them across the room. That longing is warring with the strong opinion (opinions being a Chenoweth family birthright)that I'm pretty ok like I am, and my friends and family love me, my husband adores me, and the rest of the world can just go on tolerating me because I'm living life my way. (Cue music...)
But I hate the exasperated looks-from people who expect more of me, who don't get why I can't just pull it together and finish this task. I hate sensing that people are tolerating me, and after the antics aren't so funny anymore, I see their frustration or disappointment. I wonder, am I too old to have this crisis?
And I just keep hearing it in my head: fearfully and wonderfully made. He knew me. Long before I was knit together in the secret place. My name is tattooed on His hand. I wouldn't get a tattoo on my hand for just anyone. Neither would He. So I must be special.
Normal. Funny. Distinct and seperate, or can they cohabitate peacefully in the same body?
Wonderfully, even.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
The Race
Good days aren't just good days. They are incredible. I start the morning off with an "aha!" Word of God moment. I see something I haven't seen before. Or something old becomes new and relevant. I go into my day with a strength and resolve that just yesterday was more like exhaustion and resign. I get it today. I get that I didn't have to be perfect yesterday to accept the love of God today and to live it out as if I always have, in fullness of joy just like I was meant to. It feels good, and I want to share this love with the world! I want everyone to know the freeing, healing love of God!
And then, the voice.
Come on. Who are you fooling? What kind of witness are you? Just yesterday, you were a whole other person. Enjoy it while it lasts because it's temporary. The right temptation, the first sign of trouble, you'll be right back on board with me. Snub your nose at me, but you know it's true. That Cross has no power. You are who you are. Today, you are a fake. Tomorrow, you're mine.
I know it's true. I will be right back on the other side soon, messing up, failing, falling flat on my face and threatening to take the whole of the believing world with me. Only, it's not really like that at all. God's love and forgiveness are absolute. My Abba Father knows and understands my childishness, and while He expects me to love Him with everything I've got, He put a plan into place long before I ever was to help me to get back up and dust my knees off and join the race again.
I have a choice to make at every turn. I can obey my God, or I can get distracted by the unimportant things and eventually find myself upside down and off track, wondering how I got there. I praise God for the Cross, for the blood of His Son, my Saviour, who has His angels standing at the ready, and for the Holy Spirit who reminds me what choices to make-and for my Jesus who picks me up and dusts off my knees, who wipes away the blood and the tears, and holds me. Then He looks me in the face, and says, "Let's get back in there and finish this race."
I don't run the race because I fear death. Death has no power over me any longer, so I can run with boldness. I run for the love of my King! I run because I was created for that purpose! I run because I know He is running beside me, with His angels cheering in the stands, and God is at the finish line waiting for me to run into His arms!
And then, the voice.
Come on. Who are you fooling? What kind of witness are you? Just yesterday, you were a whole other person. Enjoy it while it lasts because it's temporary. The right temptation, the first sign of trouble, you'll be right back on board with me. Snub your nose at me, but you know it's true. That Cross has no power. You are who you are. Today, you are a fake. Tomorrow, you're mine.
I know it's true. I will be right back on the other side soon, messing up, failing, falling flat on my face and threatening to take the whole of the believing world with me. Only, it's not really like that at all. God's love and forgiveness are absolute. My Abba Father knows and understands my childishness, and while He expects me to love Him with everything I've got, He put a plan into place long before I ever was to help me to get back up and dust my knees off and join the race again.
I have a choice to make at every turn. I can obey my God, or I can get distracted by the unimportant things and eventually find myself upside down and off track, wondering how I got there. I praise God for the Cross, for the blood of His Son, my Saviour, who has His angels standing at the ready, and for the Holy Spirit who reminds me what choices to make-and for my Jesus who picks me up and dusts off my knees, who wipes away the blood and the tears, and holds me. Then He looks me in the face, and says, "Let's get back in there and finish this race."
I don't run the race because I fear death. Death has no power over me any longer, so I can run with boldness. I run for the love of my King! I run because I was created for that purpose! I run because I know He is running beside me, with His angels cheering in the stands, and God is at the finish line waiting for me to run into His arms!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Another bADD Day
Most days I do ok. But there are days when I just can't focus, and I can sense that people who need me to perform are simply tolerating me. I am not the brilliant girl I was just days ago. This inconsistency is glaring. No one knows it more than me. Used to, I thought I was a failure. Now, I understand why I am the way I am. The problem is, others don't. They love the good days! They beam at me, and tell me how clever I am, and it's so hard for me to accept the compliment because I know that in a few days, given the same opportunity, I will disappoint. Try looking at someone and telling them "it's not really my fault, I'm just not in that mode right now." That's right-sometimes the sun goes behind a cloud. And sometimes it's night.
I'm so frustrated that I want to throw my hands up. Sometimes, the bADD days really get me down-especially during heat waves. I know I'm not the only person in the world who has this problem. I know you lose your keys every now and then. I know you forget appointments and phone numbers. That doesn't make you like me. That would be like telling someone with cancer that you get colds so you know how they feel. Not by a long shot. Good news, though! There's help! And for about $150 an hour, I can get that help!
I know that the bad days don't last forever. I think that if I could take the good days and figure out what triggers them, I could perform on demand like the rest of the responsible adult world-the ones who don't forget to pay a bill, who make their beds, who don't get bored while brushing their teeth. Who can write in and remember to check, their day planners for better than one day in a row.
Some people are sympathetic, but they still don't really understand my frustration. A lot of them will offer to pray with and for me, thinking that this is the answer. Well, I need that prayer, but I also need help from someone who has been there-from a knowledgeable person who gets it, and who has better advice than making lists or keeping a planner. Well meaning people say, "Oh, no caffeine for you!" while the professional take on it is, I cannot get enough. (How many of you take no-doze before bed, and rest?)
Being diagnosed with a neurological disorder is not the end of the world-in fact, it's the beginning of mine. The last five years have been a wonderful mix of discovery and renewal. When my counselor told me to "only use my powers for good," I knew that there was a big advantage to ADD. In fact, I am trying to discover the key to hyperfocus (I've been told that there isn't one-it's as fleeting as a comet). I have learned so much about tapping into my creative side, and seeking jobs where ADD is a positive trait (the arts and entertainment fields are wide open for my kind). Now if I could just get the rest of the normal-thinking world on board with me, I might have something!
I'm so frustrated that I want to throw my hands up. Sometimes, the bADD days really get me down-especially during heat waves. I know I'm not the only person in the world who has this problem. I know you lose your keys every now and then. I know you forget appointments and phone numbers. That doesn't make you like me. That would be like telling someone with cancer that you get colds so you know how they feel. Not by a long shot. Good news, though! There's help! And for about $150 an hour, I can get that help!
I know that the bad days don't last forever. I think that if I could take the good days and figure out what triggers them, I could perform on demand like the rest of the responsible adult world-the ones who don't forget to pay a bill, who make their beds, who don't get bored while brushing their teeth. Who can write in and remember to check, their day planners for better than one day in a row.
Some people are sympathetic, but they still don't really understand my frustration. A lot of them will offer to pray with and for me, thinking that this is the answer. Well, I need that prayer, but I also need help from someone who has been there-from a knowledgeable person who gets it, and who has better advice than making lists or keeping a planner. Well meaning people say, "Oh, no caffeine for you!" while the professional take on it is, I cannot get enough. (How many of you take no-doze before bed, and rest?)
Being diagnosed with a neurological disorder is not the end of the world-in fact, it's the beginning of mine. The last five years have been a wonderful mix of discovery and renewal. When my counselor told me to "only use my powers for good," I knew that there was a big advantage to ADD. In fact, I am trying to discover the key to hyperfocus (I've been told that there isn't one-it's as fleeting as a comet). I have learned so much about tapping into my creative side, and seeking jobs where ADD is a positive trait (the arts and entertainment fields are wide open for my kind). Now if I could just get the rest of the normal-thinking world on board with me, I might have something!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Great Day
There are good days, and there are great days. Yesterday was the latter. I'll just tell you about it...
I was asked a couple of months ago if I would sing at the Cowboy Hall of Fame. I didn't ask questions, I just said yes. I knew it wouldn't be just me, but out of my choir of 400 women, I thought there would be more than 20 of us. NOPE. I don't know what the selection process was. Out of 400 women, I'm certainly not in the top 20 most talented. Alphabetically, there are more that 20 women ahead of even my Czajkoski. Did they draw names? Couldn't be. I never win stuff. So who knows? God just wanted to surprise me with a really amazing once in a lifetime experience.
I arrived at the time and place I was supposed to. There were a few people at the cash bar, but not very many. Most everyone was in formal attire. My uniform for this group is black dress and jacket, so I noticed that I fit in. I wandered around until I found the banquet hall with 20 other women dressed exactly like me, and was shocked to see that this was no small gathering...there were about 3000 chairs around the white-linen draped tables. There was a formal waitstaff placing salads and desserts on the tables, and lots of Chardonnay and Cabernet. Although I don't drink, it felt very sophisticated and important. So I asked our director what was this? (I'm quite the cracker) and he said that it was the Oklahoma Sports Hall of Fame induction ceremony, or the Jim Thorpe awards. My eyes glazed over...stars were shooting out my ears, and I thought, every guy I know will be SO jealous!!!!
It was a type of heaven for me. I love sports, and knew that this was an honor like few I'll ever have. I found out that this was a $150 a plate shindig, which is a lot for a cracker. I mean, I'm the cracker. For $150 we didn't get crackers. We got rolls. You don't choose between steak and chicken at these affairs...you get both. Well, anyway, we warmed up our voices and did mic checks, and then were seated at the back (we were guests, not patrons, after all) and then the people watching began.
There were many older men between 6 and 7 feet tall, and as it turned out they were former inductees. I knew the names, but the faces were older than you see in their pictures. Former OSU b-ball coach Eddie Sutton walked in. The Mayor (voted best dressed by GQ or Esquire or something), the Governor, the Lieut. Gov., a state Senator, many sports writers, newscasters, and such filed in. Beautiful people (whom I don't really like, but that's judgemental of me) were everywhere, none of whom were getting awards because beauty is apparently its own reward. Then these old men came, who turned out to be the Frederick, Oklahoma Bombers High School football team of 1956-the first integrated football team in Oklahoma, 10 years before integration was required. They were really enjoying getting together again!
Two inductees were there-B-baller Jim Shipp (what a story!!) and golfer Doug Tewell (a man for whom I have a great deal of respect). The third, Waddy Young, had been shot down in war years ago, but had fam there to accept. I had so much fun watching them, and staring at the people. I sat a few tables over from Jim Thorpe's granddaughter (WOW!) and was in direct eye contact with Bob Barry, Jr. So cool.
We sang about half way through. We sang America, The Beautiful and The Salute to the Armed Forces, and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. We had the best standing ovation ever. We don't often get the opportunity to sing in secular venues in our state, so it was really special to me. Our choir travels all over the world, and then we get an opportunity to serve and to sing in large concert halls. The last concert was in Romania and Hungary. The men have been to Australia where they sang as a group in the Sydney Opera House, and in small groups in tiny areas all over Australia. They have been to Brazil, China, Russia...many places. But I digress.
The whole program was about 4 hours long. It seemed like mere minutes. I got some souvenirs (not the alcohol...) and had the most wonderful dinner, good conversation with sports figures, and not one single photo. If only I had known!!!!! Oh, well. It was a night I will not soon forget.
As I walked out in the parking lot, a familiar voice called out to me. "You ladies sang WONDERFULLY!!!!" I turned in awe. I already knew sho it was...it was the voice of an angel-the voice of Your OOOOKlahoma Sooners, BOB BARRY!!!! And he was talking to ME!!! I turned to him, and yelled back thanks, and he said, "I'm an old Air Force boy, you know!" So I thanked him again, and yelled something stupid because clever travels out of the mouth so much slower. I watched him get into his car, and we smiled, and I walked away.
Wow. What a special night I had. I wish Brian Bosworth and Barry Switzer were there. I guess you can't have everything...but it was close.
I was asked a couple of months ago if I would sing at the Cowboy Hall of Fame. I didn't ask questions, I just said yes. I knew it wouldn't be just me, but out of my choir of 400 women, I thought there would be more than 20 of us. NOPE. I don't know what the selection process was. Out of 400 women, I'm certainly not in the top 20 most talented. Alphabetically, there are more that 20 women ahead of even my Czajkoski. Did they draw names? Couldn't be. I never win stuff. So who knows? God just wanted to surprise me with a really amazing once in a lifetime experience.
I arrived at the time and place I was supposed to. There were a few people at the cash bar, but not very many. Most everyone was in formal attire. My uniform for this group is black dress and jacket, so I noticed that I fit in. I wandered around until I found the banquet hall with 20 other women dressed exactly like me, and was shocked to see that this was no small gathering...there were about 3000 chairs around the white-linen draped tables. There was a formal waitstaff placing salads and desserts on the tables, and lots of Chardonnay and Cabernet. Although I don't drink, it felt very sophisticated and important. So I asked our director what was this? (I'm quite the cracker) and he said that it was the Oklahoma Sports Hall of Fame induction ceremony, or the Jim Thorpe awards. My eyes glazed over...stars were shooting out my ears, and I thought, every guy I know will be SO jealous!!!!
It was a type of heaven for me. I love sports, and knew that this was an honor like few I'll ever have. I found out that this was a $150 a plate shindig, which is a lot for a cracker. I mean, I'm the cracker. For $150 we didn't get crackers. We got rolls. You don't choose between steak and chicken at these affairs...you get both. Well, anyway, we warmed up our voices and did mic checks, and then were seated at the back (we were guests, not patrons, after all) and then the people watching began.
There were many older men between 6 and 7 feet tall, and as it turned out they were former inductees. I knew the names, but the faces were older than you see in their pictures. Former OSU b-ball coach Eddie Sutton walked in. The Mayor (voted best dressed by GQ or Esquire or something), the Governor, the Lieut. Gov., a state Senator, many sports writers, newscasters, and such filed in. Beautiful people (whom I don't really like, but that's judgemental of me) were everywhere, none of whom were getting awards because beauty is apparently its own reward. Then these old men came, who turned out to be the Frederick, Oklahoma Bombers High School football team of 1956-the first integrated football team in Oklahoma, 10 years before integration was required. They were really enjoying getting together again!
Two inductees were there-B-baller Jim Shipp (what a story!!) and golfer Doug Tewell (a man for whom I have a great deal of respect). The third, Waddy Young, had been shot down in war years ago, but had fam there to accept. I had so much fun watching them, and staring at the people. I sat a few tables over from Jim Thorpe's granddaughter (WOW!) and was in direct eye contact with Bob Barry, Jr. So cool.
We sang about half way through. We sang America, The Beautiful and The Salute to the Armed Forces, and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. We had the best standing ovation ever. We don't often get the opportunity to sing in secular venues in our state, so it was really special to me. Our choir travels all over the world, and then we get an opportunity to serve and to sing in large concert halls. The last concert was in Romania and Hungary. The men have been to Australia where they sang as a group in the Sydney Opera House, and in small groups in tiny areas all over Australia. They have been to Brazil, China, Russia...many places. But I digress.
The whole program was about 4 hours long. It seemed like mere minutes. I got some souvenirs (not the alcohol...) and had the most wonderful dinner, good conversation with sports figures, and not one single photo. If only I had known!!!!! Oh, well. It was a night I will not soon forget.
As I walked out in the parking lot, a familiar voice called out to me. "You ladies sang WONDERFULLY!!!!" I turned in awe. I already knew sho it was...it was the voice of an angel-the voice of Your OOOOKlahoma Sooners, BOB BARRY!!!! And he was talking to ME!!! I turned to him, and yelled back thanks, and he said, "I'm an old Air Force boy, you know!" So I thanked him again, and yelled something stupid because clever travels out of the mouth so much slower. I watched him get into his car, and we smiled, and I walked away.
Wow. What a special night I had. I wish Brian Bosworth and Barry Switzer were there. I guess you can't have everything...but it was close.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Getting Over It
I have mad days, and I'll lash out at things, people. And after I have a moment to think about it, I realize I'm soothing a tender spot on my soul.
You know that feeling, that God is speaking in that small voice, so you yell a little to drown it out? Maybe it's that. I know I want to go, I know I want to teach. I wonder, though, how to do it. I want to find that obedience in me, and I guess I mistakenly expect my church to magically bestow it on me. The thing is, our churches aren't there for any other reason than to corporately praise God, taking time out of our busy week to worship Him, and then to equip ourselves and each other to go out that week and reach others. But we find ourselves unwilling to bring people with real problems into our self-serving churches. I don't think our churches mean to be self-serving. I think they are full of people who love the Lord. Our love just gets selfish. We will go and reach out, but only if those we reach are actually deemed by us to be worthy of our love and charity. Do they have the potential to become contributing members, or will they be leeches, sucking away at our resources, just to move on? Is my ability to reach out and love people that greedy? Apparently. I have long lost the ability to love, expecting nothing in return, as if by loving someone unlovale I fear encouraging their bad behavior.
God said love. He meant love. I must follow His lead, because He loved me, the most unlovely of all. Of all the ones He could have invested His life in, I probably have the least potential for great return. And yet He not only loves me, but FIERCELY pursues me.
If I say I have love, but hate my brother, I lie, and there is no truth in me.
I will let go of my self-serving disgust with everyone who isn't enabling my agenda, and I will get over it, and get on with the work I'm supposed to do. Whatever, today, that may be.
You know that feeling, that God is speaking in that small voice, so you yell a little to drown it out? Maybe it's that. I know I want to go, I know I want to teach. I wonder, though, how to do it. I want to find that obedience in me, and I guess I mistakenly expect my church to magically bestow it on me. The thing is, our churches aren't there for any other reason than to corporately praise God, taking time out of our busy week to worship Him, and then to equip ourselves and each other to go out that week and reach others. But we find ourselves unwilling to bring people with real problems into our self-serving churches. I don't think our churches mean to be self-serving. I think they are full of people who love the Lord. Our love just gets selfish. We will go and reach out, but only if those we reach are actually deemed by us to be worthy of our love and charity. Do they have the potential to become contributing members, or will they be leeches, sucking away at our resources, just to move on? Is my ability to reach out and love people that greedy? Apparently. I have long lost the ability to love, expecting nothing in return, as if by loving someone unlovale I fear encouraging their bad behavior.
God said love. He meant love. I must follow His lead, because He loved me, the most unlovely of all. Of all the ones He could have invested His life in, I probably have the least potential for great return. And yet He not only loves me, but FIERCELY pursues me.
If I say I have love, but hate my brother, I lie, and there is no truth in me.
I will let go of my self-serving disgust with everyone who isn't enabling my agenda, and I will get over it, and get on with the work I'm supposed to do. Whatever, today, that may be.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Good Read
I am almost finished with a book that I started on Monday. If I had more time, I'd have finished Tuesday. It's called "Searching For God Knows What" by this guy named Donald Miller. I'm having trouble putting my finger on my feelings. I don't want this to be one of those situations where, I'm mad at the way things are going in my church so I'll subscribe to anything that's anti-what-my-church-does, but I have to admit it has me reeling.
I feel like we've lost it. We're repeating the sins of the Sanhedrin and expecting God to work within all of the legal boundaries we've set for Him. We see the crazy list of rules the Jews came up with in the early church, and then God shows up and they want to tell Him He's doing it wrong. But we do the same. We're waiting for Him to free us of the world we live in, but we don't want to be obedient and do what He sent us to do. We want to condemn sin and cry foul and blame it on contemporary music and homosexuals and insist we can't have church in chairs, we need proper pews, and if we don't have three hymns and a sermon with three points, and an offertory, then we haven't worshipped. (Don't get me wrong, I love hymns, and I think you can crank some real emotion out of the more somber ones...)
Have you ever been so excited about something that you couldn't raise your voice enough to cheer like you really really wanted to? Like a goal line stand in a crucial football game, or a 90 yard touchdown against Texas? Have you ever shown that kind of excitement in church? Yeah, me neither.
I cannot put enough emphasis to show the emotion I feel behind these words: WHY NOT????!!!! Where is the passion? Where is the intensity? Don't give me that crap about how sometimes God just speaks in a quiet voice...I already know that. But sometimes He doesn't. Sometimes He's in the thunder. Sometimes a flaming bush. I feel intensity in my marriage, and certainly a passionate love for my kids. Have I failed in not showing God that kind of love? Doesn't He deserve a last-second national championship touchdown kind of love? How much would it suck if, on a beach, one lover raced across the sand to the other, while the other just stood there waiting?
You think I'm confusing sensational excitement with love. No, I'm not. I am comfortable in the Abba Father warm affectionate love. But sometimes I feel like I just want to express myself louder, as one victim of The Fall who occasionally feels really excited about the fact that I've been saved from paying for it. I fear I have been holding back, not accepting the fact that God is PURSUING me and wants a relationship with me. One of the points of this book is that God doesn't act within formulas, but more in a relational way. Take a marriage for instance: signing a piece of paper and going thru some steps will make you legally married. But some things have got to change about my singleness if I want that marriage to work. It's not like signing an insurance form and then driving like I want. It's about focusing on the marriage and working at it. Giving myself up daily and enjoying the love of my husband. Working out my salvation.
Yes, I'm familiar with grace. That doesn't give me permission to "not worry about screwing up." Paul said that we don't test grace and use it frequently because it's there. Instead we try, we make an effort to love Him back. All He asks is our obedience, and He desires our love. Like we hope that some day, our kids who require our love will one day return it, free of selfish need. ( I don't care what you think...your kids have to learn to love you apart from just being a parent, and it means more that way...) When did you realize, if you have by now, that you would love your parents if they weren't your parents??
So this is how I "stew". My whole outlook may change tomorrow, and I may find peace. But I hope that soon I understand how to wrap my brain around how much God loves me. I don't have to understand it, I know. I just want Him to know that sometimes my heart is full of love for Him, and I feel helpless to express it, and wish that I would do what I know He wants me to do: to free that love up for someone who needs it.
Sigh. This is why people with ADD take Ritalin.
My doc said I didn't have to....
I feel like we've lost it. We're repeating the sins of the Sanhedrin and expecting God to work within all of the legal boundaries we've set for Him. We see the crazy list of rules the Jews came up with in the early church, and then God shows up and they want to tell Him He's doing it wrong. But we do the same. We're waiting for Him to free us of the world we live in, but we don't want to be obedient and do what He sent us to do. We want to condemn sin and cry foul and blame it on contemporary music and homosexuals and insist we can't have church in chairs, we need proper pews, and if we don't have three hymns and a sermon with three points, and an offertory, then we haven't worshipped. (Don't get me wrong, I love hymns, and I think you can crank some real emotion out of the more somber ones...)
Have you ever been so excited about something that you couldn't raise your voice enough to cheer like you really really wanted to? Like a goal line stand in a crucial football game, or a 90 yard touchdown against Texas? Have you ever shown that kind of excitement in church? Yeah, me neither.
I cannot put enough emphasis to show the emotion I feel behind these words: WHY NOT????!!!! Where is the passion? Where is the intensity? Don't give me that crap about how sometimes God just speaks in a quiet voice...I already know that. But sometimes He doesn't. Sometimes He's in the thunder. Sometimes a flaming bush. I feel intensity in my marriage, and certainly a passionate love for my kids. Have I failed in not showing God that kind of love? Doesn't He deserve a last-second national championship touchdown kind of love? How much would it suck if, on a beach, one lover raced across the sand to the other, while the other just stood there waiting?
You think I'm confusing sensational excitement with love. No, I'm not. I am comfortable in the Abba Father warm affectionate love. But sometimes I feel like I just want to express myself louder, as one victim of The Fall who occasionally feels really excited about the fact that I've been saved from paying for it. I fear I have been holding back, not accepting the fact that God is PURSUING me and wants a relationship with me. One of the points of this book is that God doesn't act within formulas, but more in a relational way. Take a marriage for instance: signing a piece of paper and going thru some steps will make you legally married. But some things have got to change about my singleness if I want that marriage to work. It's not like signing an insurance form and then driving like I want. It's about focusing on the marriage and working at it. Giving myself up daily and enjoying the love of my husband. Working out my salvation.
Yes, I'm familiar with grace. That doesn't give me permission to "not worry about screwing up." Paul said that we don't test grace and use it frequently because it's there. Instead we try, we make an effort to love Him back. All He asks is our obedience, and He desires our love. Like we hope that some day, our kids who require our love will one day return it, free of selfish need. ( I don't care what you think...your kids have to learn to love you apart from just being a parent, and it means more that way...) When did you realize, if you have by now, that you would love your parents if they weren't your parents??
So this is how I "stew". My whole outlook may change tomorrow, and I may find peace. But I hope that soon I understand how to wrap my brain around how much God loves me. I don't have to understand it, I know. I just want Him to know that sometimes my heart is full of love for Him, and I feel helpless to express it, and wish that I would do what I know He wants me to do: to free that love up for someone who needs it.
Sigh. This is why people with ADD take Ritalin.
My doc said I didn't have to....
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Serving the world on and off for...a few minutes now...
I'm back!!
I need an outlet. When I write to my friends, I write with a message in mind. But I need a journal, a place where I can get what's happening in my head out onto a tangible plane. That makes no sense, I know. But being clear to YOU is not going to be my goal today. Today it's going to be a little closer to free flow. What's that called? I don't know. Flight of thought or something. Mental diarrhea. Yes, that's spelled right.
Today I know that God has a plan for my life. But lately I'm so discouraged. I'm afraid I took the liberty to envision what God was going to do, and then sort of started "taking necessary steps" to make said dream come true. Here's the rub: (a phrase I'm so sick of...) I'm doing it by myself with little or no results, getting frustrated, and wondering what's taking God so long. Wait, it gets worse. I know that I am leaving God out, promising to make time, and then I just can't get it together to let Him take control. Too busy.
God wants some ME time. He doesn't want it for Himself, He wants it for me. He doesn't NEED me. He knows that I need Him, and He loves me so much that He keeps trying to impress on me that I can't do this alone. God says, "Look what I can do for you," and like Peter, I look down at my feet. Ever get that sinking feeling...yeah, me too.
My brain is noisy. Why won't it be still? Why can't I stop long enough to dwell on God, to seek out His goodness and who He is? I recently read something that asked if I had faith in God because of what He's done, or Who He Is? And only now am I seeing that when God is silent, I lose faith. I want only to be faithful, and I'm seeing how weak I really am. God doesn't need my agenda. He's sick of my arrogant self-sufficiency, and my pride is just getting in the way of seeing Him in everthing, every day.
He's silent because He wants me to seek, and to ask, and knock, and know. And I can't sit still long enough to let that happen. My heart is deceitful. While I know that it lies to me, I also know in my head that God is faithful and true, that He is there, and it would be so much nicer if I came along willingly as He is accomplishing His purpose in me.
My head is cluttered with the things that I can't fix. My church and my world aren't perfect. So what? Am I going to try to fix them anyway, or am I going to start praising God out loud, not caring if anyone follows my example? I need for a revival to take place in my heart. I need a renewed passion and zeal, and I need to get out there and start doing the work that I feel that we need to be doing.
I'm so convicted because one of my daughter's friends, about 20 years old, struck out on her own and went to Cambodia to serve in an orphanage. I'm a little envious. She had some valuable things stolen, but when we talk about it, I can almost see it in her eyes-"don't dwell on that. Those are just things. Ask me about how I spoke of God to people who didn't understand English. Ask about the work I did while I was there. Ask me about my passion for sharing the Lord in a real and needed way." I want to go, too. I want to stand on foreign soil and try to muddle my way thru a foreign language, and see a tiny spark in someone's eye. And then I want to come back saying I was far more blessed by God's work that they.
I think I do, anyway.
A friend of mine is teaching me spanish. I can tell you to shut up, and I can tell you when it's time to go. I can tell you if you're bleeding and ask you how many beers you've had. That should bring people to God.
Enough mental diarrhea.
I need an outlet. When I write to my friends, I write with a message in mind. But I need a journal, a place where I can get what's happening in my head out onto a tangible plane. That makes no sense, I know. But being clear to YOU is not going to be my goal today. Today it's going to be a little closer to free flow. What's that called? I don't know. Flight of thought or something. Mental diarrhea. Yes, that's spelled right.
Today I know that God has a plan for my life. But lately I'm so discouraged. I'm afraid I took the liberty to envision what God was going to do, and then sort of started "taking necessary steps" to make said dream come true. Here's the rub: (a phrase I'm so sick of...) I'm doing it by myself with little or no results, getting frustrated, and wondering what's taking God so long. Wait, it gets worse. I know that I am leaving God out, promising to make time, and then I just can't get it together to let Him take control. Too busy.
God wants some ME time. He doesn't want it for Himself, He wants it for me. He doesn't NEED me. He knows that I need Him, and He loves me so much that He keeps trying to impress on me that I can't do this alone. God says, "Look what I can do for you," and like Peter, I look down at my feet. Ever get that sinking feeling...yeah, me too.
My brain is noisy. Why won't it be still? Why can't I stop long enough to dwell on God, to seek out His goodness and who He is? I recently read something that asked if I had faith in God because of what He's done, or Who He Is? And only now am I seeing that when God is silent, I lose faith. I want only to be faithful, and I'm seeing how weak I really am. God doesn't need my agenda. He's sick of my arrogant self-sufficiency, and my pride is just getting in the way of seeing Him in everthing, every day.
He's silent because He wants me to seek, and to ask, and knock, and know. And I can't sit still long enough to let that happen. My heart is deceitful. While I know that it lies to me, I also know in my head that God is faithful and true, that He is there, and it would be so much nicer if I came along willingly as He is accomplishing His purpose in me.
My head is cluttered with the things that I can't fix. My church and my world aren't perfect. So what? Am I going to try to fix them anyway, or am I going to start praising God out loud, not caring if anyone follows my example? I need for a revival to take place in my heart. I need a renewed passion and zeal, and I need to get out there and start doing the work that I feel that we need to be doing.
I'm so convicted because one of my daughter's friends, about 20 years old, struck out on her own and went to Cambodia to serve in an orphanage. I'm a little envious. She had some valuable things stolen, but when we talk about it, I can almost see it in her eyes-"don't dwell on that. Those are just things. Ask me about how I spoke of God to people who didn't understand English. Ask about the work I did while I was there. Ask me about my passion for sharing the Lord in a real and needed way." I want to go, too. I want to stand on foreign soil and try to muddle my way thru a foreign language, and see a tiny spark in someone's eye. And then I want to come back saying I was far more blessed by God's work that they.
I think I do, anyway.
A friend of mine is teaching me spanish. I can tell you to shut up, and I can tell you when it's time to go. I can tell you if you're bleeding and ask you how many beers you've had. That should bring people to God.
Enough mental diarrhea.
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