now that we’ve survived 2021

 if 2020 was your first “bad year,” have a seat and let’s pour a cup of tea for a chat.

To be fair, I may not be the person you need to talk to, seein’ as I usually call it a win if I can get 12 straight HOURS of a good time... much less 12 straight MONTHS.

That seems to cast me as a tragic character in some’s eyes...
good thing their reflection is not not my reality.

so here’s what:
a) life just sucks sometimes... you havin’ a bad time does not mean you are a loser
-also if your dreams aren’t comin’ true, that’s okay... dreams take a while sometimes.

b) just because your work isn’t glamorous doesn’t mean it’s not important.

c) find your own happy

d) please take care of yourself- eat a good meal, go for a walk, listen to good music, drink water

e) feel what you feel: this term “new normal” strips us of our need to grieve

f) watch our for gaslighters- you.are.not.crazy.

for the love of 2020, please take care of yourself.
lower your expectations.
find joy in the light as it pours through the trees.

and please tell the people you love that you love them. 

self care

I saw a post over on my insta account that I dedicate to speechie things about a lady going for a manicure for self-care. which is great. but it got me thinking 1) I’m allergic to manicure stuff so that’s not an option for me and 2) I don’t have time to do something like that anyway... but I stepped outside this morning and the wind began to blow colder and harder than it had in weeks... and I thought may taking care of myself doesn’t have to be some big thing that’s not attainable for me right now... maybe self care for me is in the small choices I can make every day... 

self-care is a thousand small choices we make everyday:

what we eat

what think

what we listen to

what we read

what we engage in

what we walk away from

self-care is saying:

today I will make small choices to keep my mind and body at peace.

a lesson from the garden

During this COVID 2020 season, I had the chance to look around my house and see how in disrepair it had fallen.

The fall of 2014 found me mysteriously ill 6 months after my last baby was born. My hands, arms and legs broke out in a mysterious rash. All my doctor could tell me was to switch my clothes detergent and referred me to a dermatologist. The dermatologist never gave me a firm diagnosis and kept giving me prednisone. Now, if on a good day, I'm Mr. Furious (from Mystery Men), on prednisone, I'm the Hulk's sister. Ten months of that. Two babies in diapers. I was not getting better. My hands would be so cracked with eczema that they would bleed as I tried to change diapers. I wept as I cleaned the house. I finally went rouge and went to an allergist who properly diagnosed me as being allergic to 60 different chemicals and fragrances. He gave me a "safe list" of products I could use. Despite that, I often stood in the aisles of stores crying not being able to find specific baby wipes or at the astronomical price of the products I could use. 

It took a good four years to get to a place where I felt "well." I discovered my diet had a lot to do with keeping me inflamed which kept my hands covered with eczema. 

March 2020, I stood on my back patio and shook my head at how I had let my house look like it was two episodes away from being on "Hoarders." Before I got too down on myself, I had to remind myself: Brick was born in 2012 via c-section... I got pregnant with Hank 15 months later... another c-section and tubal... 6 months after Hank was born, I got sick. So I had to give myself a high five for just keeping us alive during this time. 

But here we were, quarantine... shut down... shelter at home... shelter in place... all these new words thrown at us. So I did what I do best when I'm stressed: I go to work.

Between working my job remotely and pandemic schooling my boys, I started to work on the house. Nothing makes me feel more in control then cleaning... 

Outside in our small back yard, it looked like Jungle Book. Over grown spots, weeds, vines covered places that were meant to be exposed to the sun.

When I feel particularly stressed, I go to work outside... and I realized something (again) that may be very elementary to some Christians... but to me, the reminder was significant...

You've got to tend to the garden regularly or the weeds will over take the ground....

Some of you may be like "well, duh, Buffy!" 

I mean, I know it's something I KNOW.... 

but when the circumstances of life force you to just SURVIVE... well, it seemed that my garden did not THRIVE.

Let me tell you... did you know poison ivy grew in vines? Well, the poison ivy in my yard... I'd find a sprig.... pull on it (with my heavy duty gloves) and I'd find a VINE.... and as I kept pulling.... the vine grew longer and longer and longer... until I finally found the root!

And isn't that just like sin! Isn't that just like burdens that we tend to carry around? 

Circumstances hit.... we are trying to just survive... and the enemy takes the chance to slowly choke us out with sins and burdens... and the growth is slow... so that we don't even realize it's happening...

So something good has come out of this time of sheltering in place... we have been able to tend to the garden and see the weeds that need to be pulled up... 

Is this what Paul meant in 1 Corinthians 15:31- "I die every day..." every day, we have to tend to the weeds in our spiritual gardens. And that takes intention... that takes attention... and it takes time. 

Slow down, Beloved... the Great Gardener of our hearts longs to sit with you in your garden and tend to the things that are worrying you and weighing you down. 

seasons

About the time Hero was born, Heath felt the calling on him to be ordained as an Elder in the Free Methodist Church (the denomination of Christ Community Church where we attended). I freaked (aren't you surprised?) because I could not imagine myself as a pastor's wife.

But God knew what He was doing and Heath is officially a children's televangelist with Heath and the Checker Shoe Band... and honestly, it still makes me giggle that I'm the Reverend Mrs. Heath Williamson.  I mean, the moment Heath was ordained, I was too in a sense... and that experience is beyond explanation. But I'm still me... and God's still God...

These past few years have not really rolled out like I envisioned. But you are not surprised.... if you know me at all, you know how hard plot twists are for me. Hank's autism and adhd diagnosis was NOT in the plans, people. Being down in my body since 2014: not in the plans. MY plans.... not in MY plans...

So I've struggled with that. I've wanted to do ministry outside of Heath and the Checker Shoe Band but having to minister to my family and myself took precedence. And I struggled with that. 

I want to sing on the worship team.

I want to teach a children's church class.

I want to lead VBS.

I want to write.

I want to paint.

But the pause button had been hit. And I've been angry. And sad. And despondent. 

The shutdowns that's resulted from COVID has made me realize that there are seasons to life... and that's okay... 

Flowers have a time to grow from the soil, shine in their blooms and then fall away for a time. 

No one despises the flower for doing what the flower is meant to do.

And yet, we despise each other for cycling through seasons.

Ecclesiastes 3: There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens.

So, do not despise the season you are in, Beloved. Look for the work you are meant to do and let the Lord do the rest. 

abandon vs. surrender

So during this COVID season, I am trying really hard to keep my cool and look for the upside of all this... I'm not gonna lie: being in a small house with 4 other people, trying to work and be mom all at the same time.... it's exhausting... and overwhelming.... and when I get exhausted and overwhelmed, well... I snap. My nickname isn't Mr. Furious for nothing....

I sat at my kitchen table this morning with a cup of coffee, my journal, and Oswald Chambers' My Utmost for His Highest. Not because I'm a super Christian. But because I desperately miss going to church every Sunday. And, of course, today's entry was just what I needed. From Matthew 6:25... "do not worry about your life..." "Don't take the pressure of your provision upon yourself..."

The last line struck me though:

"The greatest word of Jesus to His disciples is abandon."

Y'all know that I love words- one of the reasons I became a speech therapist... so it struck me that Chambers chose to say "abandon" instead of "surrender."

"Surrender" brings to my mind an old western with the masked gunman demanding innocent bystanders to "put 'em up" while he robs the stage coach. "Surrender" conjures up ideas of "giving up unwillingly."

But the word "abandon".... well... that makes me think of something more adventurous! As if it's my choice all along to give up on everything this world is demanding of me and jump headlong into the River of His grace and love and float there... all day... without a care in the world... 

Now balancing this while being asked to be mother and SLP working from home all at the same time... well, I'm practicing how to make that all work... and I'm thankful for the grace and love my men show me every single day. 

I think I like the idea of "abandon" over the idea of "surrender"... I mean, I know really it's splitting hairs on the meanings of the words... but as I abandon the pressures and worries, I think "the things of this earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His Glory and Grace." 

old idols

on my way back from opelika (doctor’s appointment), i heard this guy on the radio say that we should be careful not to return to old idols as we have been asked to wait and be still during this time. He said like the Isrealites made the golden calf when Moses did not come back as quickly as they had anticipated- they panicked and reverted to old ways instead of staying calm and waiting and trusting. I needed to hear that today.

this song has been on my heart these past few days:
My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly lean on Jesus' Name
On Christ the solid Rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground is sinking sand

today is called Good Friday. it was somebody’s Bad Friday. for Jesus. for Mary. for the disciples. their Bad Friday is our Good Friday because we know the end of the story. We know Sunday’s coming.

In this moment, we don’t know the end of this covid story. But we know Jesus.
“When darkness seems to hide His face
I rest on His unchanging grace
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil
On Christ the solid Rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground is sinking sand”

it’s Christmas

Christmas has always been sad to me. 

I dunno why. I didn’t have a particularly bad childhood. But Christmas has always seemed sad to me...

The theme of the Charlie Brown Christmas Special makes me sad. Reminds me of my grandfather.

As I made breakfast this morning, I realized I was not as sad as I was pensive.

Christmas marks the end of the calendar year. And I’ve been reflective of this year. It was a hard year.

But as I am learning, life is hard period. Whether it comes in a clump or is spread out over a life time. 

What I chose to focus on is that Christmas is a reminder of Christ’s gift of His presence. And to be thankful for the people surrounding me.

I’m also thinking of Mary. I’m especially drawn to her during this season of my life. I wonder what her feeling was travelling to Bethleham, giving birth in a barn... I’d be so over it- “pick someone else!” Maybe she supernaturally felt this purpose and was totally cool with it. Did she see the glow of the angels appearing to the shephards in the sky?  I wonder what human emotions ran through her...

Anyway go read Luke 2:7-14. When I was a kid, I had to memorize this passage for a school play. I still remember it.

I pray these days find you pensive: contemplating God’s Love for you...