To Tell Ya the Truth

If you ever want to know the truth about something, ask a biddy. Kids will tell you the truth whether you want to hear it or not! Several years ago when I decided to try my hair in it's natural state for school one day, a biddy came up to me and asked, "What happened to your head? It looks like you were in a wreck!". If that wasn't enough, another biddy came up and rubbed a little salt in my wound by adding, "Yeah, a tornado wreck!". I'm not even sure what that meant, but I was pretty sure that wasn't a compliment. Kids will tell you when you look great, when you look tired, when they love your shoes, when they like your shirt, and when you have in two different earrings (don't ask, it had been a long morning apparently). Kids will tell the truth. I remember a professor one time telling us that kids lie to get out of trouble, not into trouble. Kids, for the most part, are brutally honest. 

Telling the truth isn't always easy. We have these little ways of candy-coating our lies, our fibs, our masks. Somewhere along the way we learn to skirt around the truth for various reasons; to please others, to keep from hurting others, to fool ourselves. The truth. Does anyone even know what that is? 

When you are in counseling you often hear and say things like, "Well, what is true for you may not be true for him" or "What is your truth?". There is a TON that could be said for all of this "truth" talk. We all have different truths, like it or not, we do. We are skewed by our beliefs, our experiences, our fears, our determinations. Our experiences shape what we see and how we see it.  

Believe it or not, this isn't about your truth or mine or who's is right or wrong or what. 

Really. 

So if you were looking for an argument. Look on. 

You're welcome. 

I was reading one of my devotionals recently and it talked about truths. Not in the sense of a lovely little biddy telling you that your clothes didn't particularly match or your own child making fun of the fact that you still had culottes in your closet, and how uncool that made you. But truth... telling the truth. About yourself. Being honest. Brutally. About. Yourself. YIKES. Let's just talk about my bad hair and wardrobe... Ok? 

To tell the truth. Ever hear someone start a sentence with that? "Well, to tell the truth..." I've heard it a thousand times at least. That, or "Want to know the truth?" (ummm yeah.... of course I do! No, wait, lie to me....) The truth. Talk about a word that is used and abused. 

So, I was challenged to tell the truth. It seemed easy enough until I started thinking about it. Telling the truth... How much truth should I tell? For heaven's sake the public can only handle so much! Will my mom be reading this? My kids? The truth? Really? It's not that easy. Telling the truth makes us incredibly vulnerable. It puts us on a level playing field with, well, everyone. We don't like that. Some of us seem to appreciate being a little higher and pious than others. I know. I've been there. But to tell you the truth, I've blown it time after time. There is no higher and pious for me. And now that I can tell myself the truth, I can sniff it out pretty easily. I don't call it out (but there are surely those who feel it is their place to put others in theirs. Are you being truthful if you make yourself the judge?). To tell the truth.... I want to be real to you, dear reader, because hiding behind a mask of, well, anything, is exhausting and is, in all honesty, a lie. 

So.... To tell ya the truth... 

My hair really does look like a tornado wreck. I can't help it. It's curly underneath and straight on top and I can't figure it out. I get self-conscious about it. I straighten it, let it go curly; it's getting gray now (sorry, it's getting natural platinum highlights) and I'm like "What the heck?" Because I can't figure when this all happened. 

The truth is I can't figure why I don't feel my age. I'm 46. I'm pausing for your shock. I know, right? I used to think 40+ was old. Dear sweet spring babies, it isn't. In fact, when you are in your 40's you are beginning to wonder what you want to do when you grow up. The middle age generation looks at you young whippersnappers and, well you may have the bodies we want, we have the minds and wisdom that we wouldn't trade for anything.  I was so smart back in the day. I was such a great mother and teacher when I started out teaching, and before I had kids. To all those I knew back then, I'm sorry. I get it now. Yeah, I know.

Truthfully, I am an enigma to myself. I don't understand why I am where I am in my life. In all the "plans" I had (plan A, plan B, plan C, etc) there wasn't a plan on my story board that looked like my life right now. How did that happen? How did I get here? I have been divorced for nearly 10 years. I am very content with myself and my life with my children. I never imagined I would be here. In all honesty, I would never have grown this much, come this far, and become who I am if I hadn't taken so much time to myself. And honestly, it was scary making myself take time alone. It was scary preferring to be alone on holidays than in a (not so great) relationship sometimes, but I learned that I was worth more than just settling for, and my kids were CERTAINLY worth more than that. Honestly, all the fear of being alone has paid off because I have raised two most amazing young people ever, made phenomenal friendships, and learned who I am in ways that I couldn't have if I had fearfully clung to those relationships that were not healthy. To tell the truth, I have never felt alone. 

To tell the truth, I have a terrible diet. I do try, but I prefer chips to fruit. I have to torture myself to make 'healthy' a choice. It is my professional opinion that pita chips (or on a casual night Cheez-Its) and chardonnay make a delightful dinner if the kids aren't here.

To tell the truth I am terrified of what I'll be like when my oldest goes off to school next year. My little family has been fantastic. We don't fight, yell, slam doors... we talk, laugh, get along wonderfully. While a far cry from perfect, we have found what works for us. But to tell you the truth, I am strangely excited and scared about finding our new normal. My daughter is aware that we will have to find our new niche as her big brother has been her best friend and buffer for years. Relationships aren't easy and moms and daughters are different, no matter how you slice it. It's wonderful, but different, and about to be just 'girl' in our house. Break out the popcorn and chick-flicks. I'm sure we'll be fine. 

To tell the truth my faith falters and I have tantrums at God like a toddler when he doesn't get a treat while checking out in line at Wal-Mart. I have a tremendous amount of patience. I really do go with the flow, but every now and then I look up at God and I'm like, "Really? What are you thinking? Did you just forget me? Am I not important down here anymore?" And I'll go through a series of reasons God should be listening to me; things I do or don't do that make me worth listening to.... then I realize I'm judging myself, for better or worse, which means I'm judging others, and I'll shut up. I figure things could be worse and I'll wipe my eyes, blow my nose, and take a nap. 

Another truth is that I can't stand to hear people smack food. My daughter says that I crunch sometimes, but that doesn't bother me, I can't hear it. I can't stand to hear smacky smack smack eating. Can't. Stand. It. 

Passive-aggressive competitive people really grate on my nerves. I am one. How's that for the truth? I am not always that way, but I have caught myself being totally hypocritical. I have to laugh at myself, but at least I can say that I blow it sometimes. I do. Totally. 

A harsh truth is, I want a re-do with 50% of my life. I suppose that's what life is all about? Learning and doing better next time. I want to have done better with my kids, my friendships, my job... dear heavens those kids I taught when I first began over twenty years ago! Bless! Bless! Please wipe their memory! Did I really say and do those stupid things? Yes! Heavens. I want to re-do some relationships. Some I would focus on more and to tell you the truth, there are others I would have terminated much earlier. Another truth is that I keep changing the % up there at the beginning of my paragraph :)

To tell the truth I would have started saving money a lot earlier, listening to what my mom told me, exercised a lot more, and cleaned out clutter. I would have asked my grandparents more about their past. Truthfully, I wasn't as interested as I should have been then, but now, I wish I knew more and I miss them.

To tell the truth I would have learned lot earlier in life to keep my mouth shut about things that aren't my business, to speak kindness into people who appear not to need it (they need it most), and to put myself in other people's shoes.  

To tell the truth I would have stopped trying to please people who don't really hold a lot of weight in my life, I would have stopped trying to be what everyone else wanted me to be and pursued my passions regardless of what anyone else thought. 

To tell ya the truth I would have started writing a long time ago and a lot more consistently. The fear of failure stares me down like I am it's only prey sometimes and I cower. And I hate it. And I struggle with it. But I am determined. 

Yesterday our Building Leadership Team went to a system wide meeting and the keynote speaker asked how many people had a blog. I was really shocked that more people did not. Writing is such a powerful outlet. He gave every excuse people give for not trying, for being afraid. I heard myself in those excuses. To tell you the truth this blog entry has been saved in my computer for over 2 weeks. It wasn't until I realized how many excuses I make to NOT publish, that I knew I needed to power through some of this fear and get back on to what I love doing. I want to not be afraid of what people think. I want to not be afraid of negative feedback and just write what I love. I want to touch the lives of others who may feel the same but aren't sure how to express it. I want my words to move lives. That's pretty big for my little blog, but to tell you the truth, that's my passion. 

Now, that didn't hurt so bad...

Truthfully,

Becky

November 4, 2015

Really?? Get real!

So I wrapped up the millions of (ok, the 3) things I had to do today and was scrolling through, oh, I don't know, let's say Pinterest. I enjoy reading the humor quotes, looking at decorating ideas, and occasionally realizing that I'm not alone in some of my sick, twisted sense of humor and wishful thinking on the housing decor.

As I scrolled, and as I have noticed more and more on social media, there were so many quotes and posts that were SO incredibly passive-aggressive, 'victim mentality'-ish, or for heaven's sake were 'trying' to be evasive. Now, I remember someone questioned me once regarding something I had posted and I was like, "Good heavens! That's a quote from (insert name of movie) I watched this weekend! It had nothing to do with me, I just thought it was a good thought!" So I GET where people put things that may be quasi pertinent to life, but not explicitly to theirs.

Here's my rant: (You're gonna have to hold on because I have to look for some of them. I accidentally ended up in Pins where apparently Johnny Cash said something about having coffee with someone. I don't know, but it just makes me like him more and I'm not a huge Cash fan, but we're talking coffee here! Oh, wait... ok....here we go) MY immediate thoughts will be parenthetical... big word, eh? Parenthetical. You're welcome. So, here are some quotes and here are some of my thoughts:

"You took away everything good that was left in me" (Except my keyboard, and I can type really crappy passive-aggressive posts that you will never read and I will die a lonely death... here...at my keyboard)

"The only people I owe my loyalty to are the ones who never made me question theirs" (Wow. Betcha got lied to or hurt, eh? I'm right, aren't I? You are the FIRST person that's ever happened to! Sorry!You're probably even hoping they read this are so, ever so sorry. They won't. Sorry!)

"I'm mature enough to forgive you, but not dumb enough to trust you again" (see above thought)

"Sorry I'm not perfect, but I'm not fake either" (I'm bettin' you're a teenager)

"Life was different this time last year" (yeah.... a year has passed. Big. Fat. Duh.)

"I'm not the girl that got away, I'm the one you failed to keep" (I understand this, I really do, but this really needs to have Dear________ from ________ on it. Get real! This is "to" someone!)

"My mouth says, I'm ok, my fingers text, I'm fine, My heart says, I'm broken" (I'm sorry for your pain, but get off Pinterest and call a counselor. This clearly is a cry for help)

"I sometimes miss people in my life, I wonder if they miss me, too?" (well, let's just ask people on social media! Oh, wait! If they miss you, you'll freakin' know!!!)

"If I said hello, who would say hello back?" (Do you place your value on the people who are on social media at this time? Please don't, dear Lord you're worth more than that!)

"You call it jealousy, I call it fear of losing you" (I saw Fatal Attraction 3 times. Run dude, run!)

Oh.... Here's a good one...."I wish I had the power to ignore you like you ignore me" (Who the hell posts this and thinks this may be effective? Like some guy or girl will read this and think, 'Babe! Wow! I didn't know! I love you so much! I'll never ignore you again....umm..... ummmm.... what's your name? Babe? Babe?')

And finally, because I hope you get the point here, "I will always be yours, even when you don't want me" (yes, yes this is a real quote. Someone actually thought this and WROTE IT DOWN! PERSON! GET A GRIP! GET SOME SELF-RESPECT!!!! Get THERAPY!

Reading these makes me sad a little. I realize we are a hurting world in need of love. We really are. I have posted some stupid *stuff* without realizing how it may sound. What gets me is when people post this stuff, or similar and then have the nerve to question 'why' anyone would ask them about it. Really?? Well, hell, today you posted that you hated your ex and last week y'all were in love. Yep, there'll be questions.

Get real. I've been on social media less and less lately. There isn't a lot of happy out there lately and that makes me sad. I will say that I DO love quotes, funny, inspiring, silly, and yes, sometimes sarcastic. But when something is clearly geared at someone, get real and have that conversation with them. Conversation and clearing up problems is a lost art. That's too bad really. How many issues could be cleared up if we all only get a little more real and less socially-medial (I think I may have created that word) passive-aggressive? Just some thoughts.... not so passively :)

Last quote "You will be my forever and always" (unless you drink my wine)
Becky
July 7, 2015

What I Choose

I assure you you won't have to hold your breath to read this. There is so much hate on social media right now that it absolutely breaks my heart and disgusts me with every fiber of my being. I have tried to avoid making any statements about things, but most of you know me and know keeping my mouth shut is darn near impossible, so here I go....

I did not choose to be born white. I did not choose to be born with blue eyes. I did not choose to be born to Neal and Mary Alice Douglas (I'm just one of the luckiest kids ever born to have them as my parents). I did not choose to be born in the richest, most beautiful country in the world. I did not choose to be 5'6". We won't talk about my choice in my weight or hair color at this point because this is my blog and I DO choose that much, okay?

We make choices every day but there are some we don't make. We are all clearly created differently. I'm glad. When kids come in to my office and talk about differences of any kind, I liken it to a box of crayons. How boring would it be if we wanted to color a picture and with excitement, opened a box of crayons and they were all the same? We were all created differently, on purpose, by Him, with love.

I choose what clothes I wear on a day to day basis, how to wear my hair, and what to eat. I really need to talk to myself about making better choices there, but how blessed are we that most of us live where we CAN choose these things? I choose to talk to my kids about things that are uncomfortable because I would rather us have an open forum than for them to be raised in 'ignorant' bliss, that isn't bliss at all. I choose what comes out of my mouth. Wait. I take that back. I USUALLY choose what comes out of my mouth. Sometimes I do have filter malfunctions and have to apologize or restate some things.

I have made some poor choices in my life. Really poor. I have hurt people with my actions and my words. But this is what I choose now. I choose to love people. I choose not to be a doormat to anyone, but I choose to REALLY love people. ALL people. I have learned that people who have been through hurt, hate, loss of spouses, children, freedom, and hope are the very people who have learned to fight for love and fight hard. I have learned that when we all step down off of our high horse (and I used to be on mine, too) we realize we're all just bumbling around down here trying figure this all out, the best we can, with the people we love.

When my son was little he was trying to describe a child in his class. He couldn't quiet figure out how to explain him to me. He finally said that his skin was kind of dark. Brown. I realized my kids really hadn't distinguished 'black' and 'white'. I was glad. I don't want them seeing people as a color, a race, straight, or homosexual. I want my children to see people as human. Human beings with hearts. I want them to love and love big.

I don't identify with liberal or conservative. I don't like political talk. What I do like is when we stop talking hate and start talking love. Positive. I realize there are bad things and bad people. But isn't it time we take ourselves out of the judgment seat? I'm not sure why we feel if we disagree on things it means we have to hate and to hurt. I choose not to engage in the craziness of what I'm seeing on social media. I choose to love my friends, all of them. If I read correctly, Christ died for us. All of us. He chose me. I choose to love and be grateful. It's easier and helps my blood pressure stay down. And now I choose to go get more coffee.

Choosing Love,
Becky
June 27, 2015

"Just" Sayin'

My friend Joe unknowingly gave me a better title for this :)

It amazes me the times that these postings come to my mind; while I'm driving with my roof open, cleaning my house, brushing, flossing. You never know....This one has been whirring around for a while, but I really feel compelled to write about it tonight.

How often do we pray or ask or make a request while using the word "just"? For example: Just let me get through the week. Just let my kids get through this school year! Just let me pass this exam. Just let me find someone kind. Just don't let me kill him! Just.  Just. Just.

Just is such a limiting word. It wasn't that long ago that I was praying and I used the stale and highly-overused word "just". The sound of it in my mind for some reason really stung that day. I won't say what it was about, but I really had to pause and ask myself, "Is that really all you want? Just that? What if that's all you're given?" I had sort of an epiphany on that 4-letter word that day.

Just. I realize we say it all the time and it has become all too common for us to say things like, "Lord, just get me to the weekend!" (and I have NOT said that 45 times this week. Not. Me. Have not.) But I'm talking about when we seriously ask for things. Especially when we ask God for things.

I'm not God. (Pausing for whatever reaction you may have) Seriously, I wonder what reaction the creator of the universe has when we put the "just" limits on Him. Think about it. God scatters the incredibly beautiful stars. He causes the sun to rise and set daily. He breathes life into nature in such a way that we ourselves are nearly breathless and we "just" want to make a passing grade in biology?!!? Just? Just let me be on time... Just let me arrive safely... Just... What is supposed to happen after the Just???

Here's something a little closer to home.... I grew and gave birth to two amazing children whom I absolutely adore. I can not imagine my life without them. If they came to me and said, "Ya know, Mom, I just need some food and a little water to survive,...I'll figure out the rest. Oh, and I just need a blanket 'cause it's 23 degrees, that's all. Just a blanket..." I can't even fathom that situation and neither can you! Our God, our creator is so passionately in love with us that for us to want "just" must seriously be a tad of a sting to Him. Just? Really?

For a long time now I have tried to rid "just" from my vocabulary when I talk to God about what I want. He already knows what I need and want as well. Why hold back? He is the provider of all providers! I don't for one second think I deserve anything. His grace and love provide in my shortcomings. But He craves for me and you to come to Him with our wants and desires. "Just" doesn't seem to cut it when talking to the One who scattered the stars.

My challenge to you is to think of yourself as better than Just. You don't deserve Just anyone. You don't deserve Just any job. You don't deserve Just anything. Be specific. Ask God for BIG! Take the limits off your expectations of God. Not because you or I deserve His goodness, so to speak, but because that's what parents do for their children. And thank Him for being more than Just. You aren't Just anyone. He isn't Just any God. Don't settle for Just anything. I challenge you to get rid of "Just". It's just a 4-letter word anyway!

Not Just anyone,
Someone,
Becky
April 8, 2015

Stilettos, running shoes, and cowboy boots...

So we've been getting our home ready to put on the market. Easy enough, right? WRONG! It sounds easy enough until you realize you haven't thrown away anything since your kids were big enough to scribble their name with a big fat Crayola! The fun part comes when you get to the staging part. Staging? Who in the world came up with this? Well, now there are professional stagers. Yes. Really. I want that job. Seriously. Where do I sign on? Let's see... I would go to someone else's house and tell them how it would look best in order to sell quickly. Yep! I like that job idea! Sign me up!

My stager came last week. She was nice and all adorable-like as you would expect stagers to be. I imagined her house to be perfectly Southern Living photographable at all times. Nevertheless she gave me some awesome tips on staging my home that would only cost me every last bit of my energy, patience, and a few $...Oh, and all of my garage space to store everything that I own.

Staging. Cleaning. Boxing. There is a time in this process that you are absolutely ecstatic! You can't get boxes and clean out drawers and rooms fast enough. However, you should be warned this feeling begins to fade and you find "yourself" amidst everything you are staging.

As my sweet daughter Mary helped me clean out my closet we had to laugh at the variety of shoes I own. Now, I haven't had a new pair of shoes in a while (ok, I did get a new pair recently in Knoxville, but they are *awesome* and were on sale...) While in my closet packing up my winter clothes, shoes, etc I decided to do some serious donating. Then I did some serious evaluating. I realized I have leopard print pumps, black stilettos, 5" wedges (red, black,  and one pair that are red, white &blue), cowboy boots, a few pair of running shoes, flip flops, and dark blue Converse (Chucks) with no laces. I also have some awesome Ugg slippers; a gift from Mom. Love em! Some serious variety. Serious. Variety. Btw, Mary voluntarily threw a pair of clogs (complete with embroidered flowers on them, my hippie shoes) in the 'donate' box. Hmmm.

I remember when I lived in VA telling someone that clothes were like costumes, we dress how we feel. I still sort of feel that way, but it's deeper than that. Really, Beck? You're going deep? Wow, how unlike you. I know... but bear with me.

My point is this: Sometimes I feel black stiletto. I occasionally enjoy the pretty cocktail feel in a social situation. Sometimes it's a good ol' running shoe to get me moving and ease the stress of what's going on. You can't beat the cowboy boots just because they're rockin' awesome and you can get 'em dirty and I really do love to ride horses (it's been WAY too long... anyone got a horse??)  My Saturday "uniform" is a black linen shirt, blue jeans, and my chucks. Seriously.

I think there are so many facets to all of us. We have so many sides, real sides that we truly want to show and have appreciated, not staged. We want someone to love every boot, every stiletto, every flip flop, every running shoe part of who we are. We ALL want someone to appreciate all of our facets, don't we? Am I wrong here? We're staging our house. Do we stage our lives? And why? Why do we stage our lives? It sucks. It really does. I don't want to do that. I want real. I want an open closet here.

I want someone to walk into my closet, into my life, and say, "Wow! What a multi-faceted gal! I want to know her!" It's not so bad. I'm just real. I'm just boots and heels, and flip-flops... but mostly barefoot really...  Like everyone else I want to be appreciated for everything in between. I love diversity in others. I love quirks. I love seeing all facets of people. I think if we're all honest most of us appreciate the real parts of those close to us, when we get past the staging part. That is, when we realize staging is just that, staging. Not real. Staging is just to get someone to buy in. Life is too short to stage who we are. I wanna be home to those who know me. Real. Comfortable. Home.

I don't think I'm alone. No staging in life. Just real. Just able to breathe... finally. By the way the chucks didn't make the pix. They are in the wash.... :)

Boots and heels,
But mostly barefoot,
Becky

I'll text you, Baby!

"I'll text you, Baby" Now, THESE are things relationships are built on. Not really. Or maybe. I personally don't think so.

I was up at the crack of dawn this morning...no, actually, before that, as I always am, scrolling through Twitter to catch up on anything earth shattering that I may have missed over the last couple of days. If you don't follow The Single Woman (Mandy Hale) then shame on you! She's a very talented writer and all around encouraging, intelligent, and funny to boot!

Reading some posts about dating issues and modern day technology, I came across a few words that are becoming more and more common, like serial texting, chatting, IMing, etc. Now, I realize we are indeed in a world of easy communication where texting, IM'ing, emailing, etc. are quick and reliable ways of getting someone's attention and responses. I use them all the time as well, but there can be so many blips in these communications when it comes to relationships.

You may be thinking that I am the last person to give relationship advice and you may be right. You may think it's like someone with no kids giving parenting advice. But I do have kids. I have had relationships. Sometimes one has to take the view from what *doesn't* work, right? Bear with me...I have been divorced for nearly 10 years. In this time there have been a couple of semi-relationships. You still here? I can be objective on this and I probably won't say anything you haven't thought about, experienced, or said yourself. This is just my way of venting. Here goes...

I have dated serial texters. We have to admit there is something really groovy (ok, I'm not the most up to date gal around, I get it) about getting a text in the middle of the day and you know you're on someone's mind. When someone can take the time to text you all night, however, wouldn't a phone call be nice? You can pause your TV these days...wouldn't you want to hear someone's voice and get their tone? That's one thing that is SO lost in a text or an email, someone's tone. How many problems has THIS caused in your communication with someone? 

Oh so many of my messages fail...

You know what I'm talking about. When you have to clean up your text mess by calling the person and saying, "I was totally being sarcastic, I'm so sorry!" Oh, you haven't had to do that? Just me? Right.

I doubt seriously when someone we love goes on to Gloryland we're going to be saying, "I really miss the look of their text on my phone". No! We're going to miss their face, their voice, their time.

Media and texts sure make things easier, but they are not a replacement for a relationship. I remember breaking things off with someone once telling him while I appreciate the time we had texting, I didn't need a relationship with my phone. My phone and I were all good. Seriously. I do believe the convenience of modern day technology allows for lots of relationships at once; group texts, several dating scenarios at once, flirting, etc. But are these really relationships at all? I don't think so. 

I have been single long enough to know, as those who know me clearly see that I am not a needy person. I am a wanty person. I don't need to talk on the phone all night nor do I need to see someone every night if we are courting (I'll get back to that in a minute). But I appreciate time with people. I appreciate time alone as well. Yes, this may be part of my 5 Love Languages, but I also think this is an art we as a society are losing. Time. Social grace. Real, true conversation. Having coffee and real laughter that isn't typed as LOL (are you REALLY laughing when you type that? Probably not).

Courting. I introduced that word to my kids recently. They chuckled. I don't know exactly what courting was back in the day, but I explained it that gentleman treated ladies like ladies and ladies acted like ladies. Couples would spend quality time together without each of them being on some sort of cellular device. Like together-together in the same space, not face chatting or snap chatting or whatever other chat is the thing these days. Couples would enjoy each others' company in real life. Anymore it seems couples just hang out or hook up after texting a time and place. How romantic. To make it even more romantic they use a series of numbers and letters to abbreviate that even some Federal Agents can't decipher. Believe it or not, I'm actually old fashioned which may explain my long time singleness. I want someone to want to spend time, real time (not ALL the time). It just escapes me how you can possibly have any kind of relationship with someone you never spend time with (I ended that with 'with' and it'll drive my sister crazy, so I'm gonna leave it). 

My son... I'm in his space :)

To say that technology doesn't make things better would be ridiculous. I use it all the time. Sometimes I'll put my iPad down and immediately pick my phone up and go to the exact same site *just* in case Pinterest changed betwixt the two devices. I text my friends, my family, my kids sometimes. I am happy to say we all also use the phone to really hear each others' voices and we take time to see each others' faces and spend time in each others' spaces. But if you really care about someone, really, take time with them. Call them. See them. Have coffee with them. Laugh with them really, out loud, in their space. 
I have heard that if people really want you in their lives, you will know. But for heaven's sake, what if you don't get that text???

My daughter and me... we really do laugh a lot!

When all is said and done, you're text characters look like everyone else's on a screen. But you, you are one of a kind. You are important enough to share your real true self with someone and others are important enough to really get to know. And if you disagree with this, that's fine. You can text me. 

Not really LOL'ing but :)
Becky
March 26, 2015

My "Dreaded" Valentine

He was cool looking; dreads, rocked out jeans that hung a little too low for my taste, but he was confident nonetheless. That is until I almost ran over him at the gas station. I was pulling into the MapCo when this nice looking young man was about to step across in front of me and walk inside. I could tell I foiled his plan by the look on his face and the tiny bit of eye-roll as he pivoted and went behind my car. He went in and paid. I parked, got out, and began to pump the gas in my car.

I had made up my mind to say something when the young man came out. There was something about the situation that I wanted to change. I was there in my boots and scarf driving my clean mommy car... suburbia. With all the tension in the world on so many levels, I didn't want to be a stereotype. I feel privileged to live in an area where people are for the most part very kind, considerate, and helpful.

As I was pumping my gas I looked up at 'young man' and simply said "I'm sorry I didn't see you about to cross. I would have stopped." He looked up at me half-surprised and smiled. "Oh, no. It was my fault. I didn't look up. It's all good." He replied. I think he said something it being a beautiful day but I wasn't sure so I didn't reply as I was putting the gas thingie back up. I hopped in my car and said to him, "Have a great day!" to which he said, "Yes, ma'am! You, too! And Happy Valentine's Day!" I said, "Oh yeah! You too! Thanks!"

It was that simple. It may seem so simple that you may not find it blog worthy but I will tell you that young man made my day! He wished me, the crazy white woman who almost hit him a Happy Valentine's Day. I had almost forgotten it WAS Valentine's Day. He was polite, harmless and it was a simple exchange. What felt a little tense at first ended up making my heart so happy.

We were just two people from totally different backgrounds headed in different directions and we had a simple exchange. I'm sure it sounds silly, but if I hadn't said anything, what might he have thought about me? Or I him even? It just makes me realize that there are so many times that when we TAKE the opportunity to have a simple, kind exchange barriers come down, bridges are crossed, and life becomes a little easier. The situation was an opportunity today. I don't always know what God is doing when He presents them to me, but I know that when my heart prompts me to act on something, I feel it and it feels good.

Happy Valentine's Day, by the way, in case you didn't realize it's today

Becky