Before And After

I leaned over my Starbucks and looked at the photo. I glanced back up into her trusting brown eyes, a little startled. “She was so gorgeous before and then she...oh my! What do you think? Isn’t she just crazy?” she asked me. “Before and after”: we all are intrigued by those photos, and this time I was, too.



Before and After





My response to her? “We all are crazy.” And then I went on…At least everyone one of us who looks at what God created in nature and says, “Hey…that’s needs switched up. That mountain is too craggy and that flower is just too pink!” We are not all Megan Fox, but that is a wonderful thing. Together we may look at her and ask “Why? Why is she ‘so perfect’ and then why did she feel like she needed to change her appearance?” But I ask, “Why are you so perfect and want to change your appearance, little pink flower?”

                                                                                                                    

I am told by my young informant that Ms. Fox is trying to look like someone else, another famous celebrity. This I don’t know for a fact, but what I do know, is that it sure seems like it and it is so sad. If people like a specific person, they will go to that specific person, not their copy. It is a privilege to be your original, just as you are: zany, hilarious, awkward, quiet, and always growing up. Large, small, wide, narrow, muscley, plump, or teeny-tiny is perfect, as you live a life of health for you.

Girls especially like to look into the mirror, out of curiosity. Honestly, some days the reaction is, “Oh my! I’m so beautiful the world must see me today!” and then a few days later its “Oh my! I’m so hideous I want to hide forever under my covers!”  Why? This happens because you don’t know what you’re looking at.

You think it is your face. Really, it’s the outside of a created thing that is. Yes, one might say “it is just the way things are and that’s that” and while that’s true and a relief, there’s more. When you only gaze upon yourself, figuratively or literally, you can’t see anything else. You lose perspective of when, where, who, and what. You forget who you really are, your blessings, —and your purpose.

Is it your purpose to be looked at by people like an exhibit? That rather sounds disgusting and every human’s value it above that! But do you accidentally live like that? Is your value based upon comparison? It happens easily mentally, too. But, it is not true. God determines that. And He sent His Son to die for each individual.

I will say what you’ve heard before. “Beauty comes from within.” I turned down the street, glancing into my rearview mirror with a deprecating look. My sister piped up in the back seat, “Man, you are just so ugly when you frown at me like that.” She did instantly put my computer down and stop browsing, but she was right, in a way. Frowns are ugly. Mean is ugly. Brats are ugly. Selfishness, lack of caring, no character, anger, and jealousy are all ugly. But, you don’t have to be. What we think, say, and choose to feel shows in our appearance.

Don’t tell me anything remotely like, “Easy for you to say.” or I will post photos of myself between the ages of 12-15 and the world will not be at happy place.  No, actually, I am joking. But I did go through a gajillion times 85 negative thoughts about my appearance as a teen and I had those desperate moments, too. Give yourself time as you grow in good character and kindness. You might be surprised eventually, if you ever even feel like looking in the mirror, after you find yourself captivated by the goodness of God and His other designs around you.

Your “before and after” is easily made perfect for you. You are not too pink and no mountain is too craggy. No cloud is too puffy and you are just you, like all creations. Become your best you from the inside out, because that is how it works.

This is one of my favorite movies to show how photographed women get airbrushed. We wouldn’t think that she became pretty if we didn’t know what fake pretty looks like.

When You Can't

Every heartbeat throbbed through Cameron’s chest, through his vest, and out of his uniform. Why was he doing this again? He didn’t even have to ask. As he crawled across the ground and the most dangerous moments of the last of his living time, he knew it was his only choice: save his comrades. He knew that if his sacrificial bullet made its way and silenced the executioner, he will have done the only thing that mattered. It drove him to make an impossible task, possible.

Harry turned over in bed. There was no reason to get up. Ever.

“What motivates me?” the question turned around and around inside my mind, bouncing off of possible answers. Then, I looked back upon times where I couldn’t stop working and giving, my heart pouring out to people. Suddenly, I remembered times where I turned over in bed and said “there’s nothing in this world for me” like Harry. I will affirm that I am not disordered nor double-minded, just motivated or unmotivated.

Is it something you can keep forever? Where can you pull more drive from when you’re running out? What is “it,” this “motivation,” even? What can make you choose to do what’s right? What makes you stop what you know you should?

Motivation equals love. Whatever you love will propel you. When you don’t love anything, you will run out of drive. Love is a choice, not a fluffy, pink thing. Sure, there are fluffy and pink moments possibly, but love is our decision to make the world better for someone else. Who is your someone? (If there’s no one there for you, you’re probably reading this in bed. [Not that beds are not good, sometimes.]) I’m not talking about a “someone special” as in telling you “Acquire a boyfrend or girlfriend, already.” For you, it might be God, your family, or your work, even. You probably already have a Someone, you just maybe aren’t being driven by love for "it"…because its lacking by your subconscious choice.

Emptiness swirls around and nothing is going anywhere. Then you put your hands up at the edge of the pool, and raise yourself up. As you scramble out, you’re dripping wet and dragging, but you’re no longer in it, because of that moment when you climbed out. You dry off and by nature of being out, you are moving again: forward.

There’s a lot of talk about “know where you’re going and what you want” and that might be good. But I might add “know what you love and where it is taking you—or keeping you.” That’s what I’m thinking about.

Don't be hiding in sorrow
Or clinging to the past
With your beauty so precious
And the season so fast
No matter how cold the horizon appear
Or how far the first night
When I held you near
You gotta rise from these ashes
Like a bird of flame
Step out of the shadow
We've gotta go where we can shine

For all that we struggle
For all we pretend
It don't come down to nothing
Except love in the end
And ours is a road
That is strewn with goodbyes
But as it unfolds
As it all unwinds
Remember your soul is the one thing
You just can't compromise

Another Love Story

Hey, maybe this story line is getting old for you. But it happened again, which I don’t mind…

Four months ago I was shopping with a friend and saw “a pair of shoes.” Well, more like, “the perfect pair of shoes.” I tried them on. I fell in love. I put them back. Somehow, I convinced myself I didn’t need them. And since the price tag said $25, I decided to be frugal and miserable.

With each passing week, I have worn outfit after outfit that was thoroughly, wretchedly incomplete without those shoes. I have been solemnly filled with regret and remorse for passing them up. No joke. And I’m not a teenager anymore. True story.

On a recent Saturday, I swung by that store, committed to righting my terrible mistake in buying THE SHOES, if I could possibly find them. I searched high and low over a couple floors in a store that sets shoes out randomly and apparently, inconspicuously. I had four sales associates on a search for shoes that I described from memory. They ransacked the back, wrung out the computer system, and commiserated religiously with me. Finally, I was resigned. They were no longer available. The last pair was apparently in Portland, OR, in a size 11. Thanking my new friends, I rode down an escalator to wait in the checkout line—without my precious shoes.

Bins of clutches, zipper pouches, bracelets, cosmetics, and girl stuff where all around me as I waited. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I sighted something spiked, brown, and buckled nestled underneath a heap of fabric near my feet. I reached down and pulled out the very shoes I had wanted, in my size. So, I held them close to my heart and strode up to checkout. They rang up at $8.50. I’m pretty sure Somebody loves me and looks out for even the little stuff. Isn’t He wonderful?

Reformatting Snaky Whispers

The time has come for that snaky whisper that turns into a throbbing pulse in your brain to stop. Like a symptom of insanity, it pulses repeatedly and you can’t block it. Its voice you may have heard.

·         You’re wasting your life away. I mean, look, you aren’t doing things like everyone else.

·         You’re just too stupid to figure things out.

·         You can’t take any more hits or you’ll fail once and for all.

·         You’re  not actually valuable to anyone.

·         You’re rather unattractive. There’s no hope for your future in the love department.

·         If you aren’t perfect you can’t be loved.

·         A ‘B’ average in college? Are you kidding me? What a dope.

I suppose you wouldn’t start to believe any of it, if it wasn’t partially true. But truth can be twisted, construed into something nonsensical that only reality and God can sort through. Maybe I should just rephrase some of those pulsating thoughts, so you can see how they really go. Once their reformatted, they stop. The insanity fades.

·         You’re not wasting your life away if you’re making a difference right where you are. If you are doing what you know God wants you to do, one step at a time, its not wasteful. Doing life like “everyone else” doesn’t seem to be working for everyone, anyway.

·         You are stupid…on your own or with bad friends or influences. Put your heart into things, get help from others, surround yourself with quality people, make wise choices where you can and it will pay off. You’ll be surprised how smart you are.

·         God only allows into your life what He knows you can handle through relying on Him. If you’re not relying on Him for real, you will fail once and for all.

·         You are valuable to the real Someone, who died for you. If you take that for granted, it’s a sad day. When that’s Who your true love is, what does it matter if no one else values you?

·         You are rather unattractive, so maybe put some effort into changing it because that will make your personality even better. Besides, you know as well as I that ugly people get into relationships every single day. It is WHO you are, not what you are. Keep in mind that people don’t get into relationships with plastic dolls, and the ones who do, you don’t like anyway.

·         If you are perfect it is hard to love you. People can’t see who you are. Do your best and leave perfection to the One who is sanctifying you daily.

·         If getting a "B" bothers you, you'll be fine.

Practice some reformatting today and don’t get tricked into insanity.

The Week That Was

With each passing day, things happen.

·         Gathered a handful of loose popcorn on the loveseat and tossed it in my mouth. Apparently there were also loose cat treats lying about. My sister asked me what was wrong with my teeth.

·         It is amazing what you may find photographed on your phone when you leave it alone for a few moments.

·         Cookies. I made them. So many that you will never know. Some of them were frosted and adorned with colorful sprinkles. Some were spicy and chewy. Some were chocolatey and others were puffy. Then I packed them (the leftovers) in a little box and gave them to my biggest brother because he lives so far away and I miss him.

·         Buy one get one free on clearance racks at your favorite store with a gift card? Yes, please! Landed, among many things, this super versatile maxi dress. Perfect for layering.

·         One of my manly brothers rescued me and cut me two Christmas trees. I am so lucky to have him. I can carry a tree, yes. But, me, sawing them down by myself, is not pretty…

·         If my sister’s appetite is down and all the mouse traps in the house are sprung, is it connected? Yeah…probably not. Why are you looking at me like that?

·         Is it just us or does anyone else have enough solely purple laundry in their home to run a “purples load”?

·         Had the best one-on-one Bible Study with a little friend early one morning at Starbucks after she spent the night. She’s a sweetheart.

·         I must confess. I googled “quinoa addiction” to see if it is possible. I just can’t stop eating it.

·         So if a thing of beauty is free, appropriate, making eye contact, and completely harmless and celestial, you accept it right? Good.

·         Thanksgiving passed almost uneventfully in the cozy ranch house nestled in 160 wilderness acres of snowy, autumn bliss. As if to attempt to balance all the fresh home-cooked goodness, the crackling fireplace, sharing a bathroom with twenty relatives, and cooking and napping to my heart’s content, the tractor got stuck in deep, sucking mud and resisted the efforts of all our stalwart men and educated women. At least it didn’t get trapped in a roaring, blazing inferno this time…

·         Cousins are hilarious. We had a late night discussion about marriage while four bottles of alcohol drained in the middle of the table. (For the record, I watched them drain, I didn’t have a hand in it. For reals.)

·         I cheated. I got up at 6o’clock in the morning to make the day-after-Thanksgiving-doughnuts this year. I usually aim for 5ish. They were just the light, airy, glazed kind, steamy and fresh. We serve them alongside custom omelets. I hear you’re coming next year, that so?

·         Wow. If my eyes were that color, I might just wear lipstick that color too.

·         My oldest brother yelled at an unprovoked, swearing, f-bombing man to make him stop. I thought that was pretty cool. (Just to make sure you understood me: I thought my brother was cool.)

·         Formally, every member of my family laughed uproariously watching this.

·         Do not mistake the word “drop” for “dropperful” on any prescription-grade, liquid vitamin. Because if you do and its Vitamin D and you take 36 times the appropriate dosage, you will have strange side effects and stay up all night completely buzzed. The only way to alleviate the symptoms is to pretend you just spent the weekend in Miami and got too much sun. (Not that I did any of that or anything. Just wanted to make sure you don’t do anything that stupid.)

·         Its official. I’ve been told four times over the past week by strangers that I look like JLo. I don’t see it.

·         Training for a marathon with a texting trainer is awesome. My body disagrees sometimes except when I look in the mirror. (A texting trainer is my invention…It is where you get told what to do in the exercise department, every single morning by someone who knows what you should be doing chiming into your phone.)

·         I like this so very, very much. It is very handy.

·         My gorgeous friend got me hooked on something impossibly cool and perfect for my work. Follow me on Pinterest here. Avoid the puddles. That’s my drool.

·         Our Christmas tree farm opened this week. I want to see all of you and your loved ones happily hand-sawing, laying out there in the frozen mud singing Christmas carols between now and the 25th.

·         I caved. Well, she actually cried dinosaur tears through her fingers, leaning over my lap on the sofa. So I had to. Her little voice mournfully squeaked out that I “never play games with her.” So. I played Scrabble twice, dominoes five times, Beezerwizzer once, Skip-bo five times, Phase 10 four times, Apples to Apples ten times, marbles for an afternoon, Angry Birds for hours while driving, and Uno six times. No more games, OK?

·         Taking long walks across the country side on old ranching lands is so my style.

·         Andrea Bocelli spent the night with a little friend and I. Well, it is more like we swooned over his voice in concert while we stayed up most of the night talking.

·         Christmas decorating with sisters, adopted and otherwise, is so much fun. We do admit, it borders on back-breaking at times, despite the loveliness.

Decoration for an office in Sequim, WA.

Decor at our home

·         My sister made me gluten free biscuits one night. She didn’t use a recipe. She’s a sweetheart.

·         My brother gave me this chocolate palette. I’m enjoying the descriptions of the chocolate almost as much as the blissful divinity wrapped inside. And I'm trying to share as much as is humanly possible.

·         Which reminds me. I didn’t tell you I got my brother a coconut. It was the right thing to do. It seemed to look at me and whisper seductively “Giving your brother a random coconut is awesome.”

Isn't it precious?

·         I went out to coffee with a mommy. We talked and we never finished. It makes me curious.

Peppermint Mocha

·         I snapped this photo while waiting to drive away from home one night. It quite frightens me.

The eyes...All of them...

·         Sharing an attic bedroom for four nights with my entire family is epic. The only thing more dramatic is my sister’s description of it.

·         I passed my exam for doing phone tech support. It was about two and half hours long and involved assisting my grandma in purchasing a plane ticket. I may just have more patience than I thought I did. At least, I do now.

So that's basically how it's been lately. I know it was a lot to read, and I respect your attention span more than mine. Have a wonderful week!

P.S. I am so blessed!

Exhaling Carefully

You know those people that take away your breathe so much so that you can’t stop exhaling nonsensical words at them? Well, it happens to me. There’s no fear in it, no infatuation, just an awkward, unintelligible charmedness of sorts.

I’m certain that it is how many scripts are written these days. The gifted writer thinks of a target actress and breathes his applicable stupidity onto the paper. It is very realistic. I enjoy a wholesome romantic comedy, from this perspective: the realism that things suddenly become definably dumb when you’re smitten.

There’s a person that makes me do that. Then I walk away figuratively and think, “What did I just say? Wow. Did I really just do that? Epic fail.” It is just that easy and natural to be stupid when you’re in that place.

Here’s my apparent only other option in said situation. I will ask a question or make a statement so perplexing that the poor person feels unable to answer for a long period of time: the least of my desires for their feelings. Tragic, I know.

Here’s my final take. It’s a lifestyle skill and it is OK. I refuse to be a tortured soul about it. Maybe, just be careful where you are staring while you’re doing it to me. I’m completely fine with it, as long as you are looking at my face. OK? OK. End of rant.

My Grave Weakness

Her eyes narrowed at me sharply, “When did you stop putting a curve in the tail of your number ‘2’?” I wasn’t sure what to say. I turned my math paper over and closely examined all my “2’s.” Sure enough, their tails were straight, crisp, even legible. I looked at her sheepishly, somewhat lost. “Why?” I whispered, glancing around the hushed testing room, a little perplexed.

“I’ve been putting a curve on my “2” ever since I saw yours in 2^nd grade. How could you do this to me?” She was definitely as far put out by my offensive behavior as her lower lip. Even in my 5^th grade mind, I must have missed something; my underdeveloped sense of kindness ruined her life.

I might have a fear. And its growing. People keep showing me I have a problem.

I can go a morning, oblivious to the tender soul I just trampled through ignorance. Therefore,  I need a balance: someone to tell me, “Hey. That was mean, man.” My frank reality usually forgets to add sugarto my words. I apparently season only with salt and pepper.

Also brought to my attention recently is this keen capability to tell a crying child, mid fit, “Brush it off. Get up. Let’s go.” as I pick them up by the collar and keep walking. Small quantities of blood are supposed to be there. Something has to scab over. (When found unconscious or bleeding profusely, I have been known to tear my own clothing to offer aid, in case you were wondering the extent of said callousness.)

This meanstreak is capped off by being the person who stands at the back of the room, or passes tissues (or towels, if necessary), without rushing to the center of the circle around a sobbing soul. I suppose they would rather not make a scene and I stand back and don’t help people who don’t need help. Is this really “heartless”?

The word “necessary” just leaped off the page at me. I caught its significance. “Do or say only what is necessary” is my subconscious mantra. Sadly, it is taking years to tone it down; mold it into something that even looks as kind as my heart truly feels.

I am told my outlook is less than feminine. I am such a man about being kind that...Ha. Wait a second.

What is femininity? It is never defined by someone else’s opinion. It is just being a woman, whoever you are and loving. It is just that easy. Love for real, giving without motive of reward and you will be adequately “feminine.” Actually, a lot falls into place if you’re giving true, selfless love. Isn’t that wonderful?