Clear the table

   Who am I? I ask myself this question from time to time. More often than not in my day to day life I am: Rick's wife, Chance's mom, Hayden's mom, the driver, maid, laundry lady, Nurse and so on and so forth... Many of these are not who I am but what I do. And the ones that do represent who I am are not the truest definition of me.
   I have wrapped my identity firmly around my actions, what I do. Well the last couple of months I've been consistently praying God would help me see who I am. And boy he has been but I've been playing blind and refusing to see. Last night I had a dream. I was a table scarred and dented and damaged and worn. He came to me and covered me in the most beautiful cloth iridescent pink and purples soft to the touch and I knew I was a child of God! In that moment it was the truest thing about me! Over the years I piled on and began to identify with objects placed over my salvation cloth. A hymnal 📔, "I am" a baptist. A microphone 🎤 "I am" on the praise team. A Christmas musical script, "Iam" a children's music leader 🎶🎵🎶. A set of van keys 🗝🔑 " I am" a youth worker. A Tshirt with a reunion group name on the front, 👚 "I am" a part of this group. A wedding band💍, a nurses cap⛑,a mom jersey🏉, a graduation cap🎓... I am I am I am.... And slowly my salvation cloth was completely covered over. I could not see it. And I could not feel it.
   Now all of these things are good! They are needed and important to our father and to the kingdom. Again I say they are good, but they are not the truest thing about me! In life and in this dream, God began to remove things. Things that I wanted desperately to hold on to! I felt my value and my worth were tied up in these things. I hold no ill will towards anyone or anything that was removed from me, because regardless of what anyone would have done God would have removed them. He is a jealous God and will not tolerate idols. And that's what these had become to me. In the moment I was crushed and overcome with shame and who am I then? Now back to the dream. Some articles remained. They are a part of who I am. A wife and mom, a Nurse. But as each of the things I identified with were moved and removed it became easier to see my salvation cloth. It's beauty, it's importance, and it's peace. I was in awe of how his mercy and Love covered every inch of me. And though I the table, could be seen through the opaque cloth, I the table could not be seen without looking through His covering!
   I woke up crying. And overwhelmed with how foolish I've been to put so much of my identity into these things, places, and people. And I have done it for years.

THE TRUEST THING ABOUT ME: I AM A CHILD OF GOD. Thank you Abba Father. Every time I place an idol above this truth and our relationship, I pray you would remove it and remind me who I am at my deepest cellular level!

Love song ❤

Did you come to sing praise and all that this means?

Did you come to lead others in the worship of the King?

Is it all about the Father and all that He's done,

In your life and the lives of all His daughters and sons.

Is it make a joyful noise, sung of surrender and transformation.

Do you offer to the Father or do you sing for the nations?

I have done both and enjoyed them immensely,

But only when I sing to my Father can you see the best in me.

I want to offer these gifts with a humble contrite heart,

I want it to be about unfailing Love offered from the start

Of my being, my existence, my struggle, my story

I want to excel.... but is this for His glory?

Or for my fragile ego

My need to be loved, accepted and wanted

It's an ongoing theme and at times I am haunted 

By the desire to measure up in the eyes of these men

But I fall back on my knees at my Fathers feet again

Beloved Accepted Wanted Desired

When I hear His approval, mans is not required.
Give praise to the King sing songs of His grace
Look fully in his eyes and remember His face
His love for this daughter
And hers for her Father.

And call it Love ❤

   Last night the 16 year old man child had his sports banquet. It was very nice and he received many kudos. When I posted his pics on Facebook I said Dad and I love you weirdo! Well weirdo is kind of our family creed. My oldest son consistently struggled with this. He would say Mom I'm weird and I don't fit anywhere. I would put my hand over my heart and say you belong here we are the same kind of weird. When I renewed my vows with my husband I included it in our vows.

We're all a little weird

And life's a little weird

And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours

We fall in mutual weirdness

And call it Love! 

~Dr. Suess

   It is absolutely a term of endearment. Please be sure I take pride in my weirdness shared with people possessing compatible weirdness. I think it is God's gift when you find your weirdos. They are your tribe! You can be you and they can be themselves, and this is where the joy lives where the peace grows! 

   And I firmly believe we are all weird in our own way. Own your weirdness! Father placed that in you knowing full well that someone somewhere needed it, longed  for it, and  fully shared it.  Your weirdness may be an obsession with sports or farming. Your weirdness may be computers and robotics and all that goes along with that. Your weirdness may be any number of things. I don't know I know I love you despite our differing weirdness. But I also know there is a special bond with "your" weirdos!

   Psalm 68:6 God places the lonely in families; He sets the prisoners free and gives them joy!!! 

   Loose those chains of belonging and sameness! Be the beautifully weird you, you were created to be! Because how sad would it be if we all hid this precious part of us and missed out on finding our like minded weirdo's, our people, our tribe!!  

    If where you find yourself, you find you are alone, they do not recognize or appreciate your brand of quirkiness. Carry on my wayward son! You are not a tree pull up roots and find your people! Love the ones who don't get you, knowing if we're honest... you probably didn't get them either. 

    Be you! Be weird! be joyful!

😜🤣😂🙃😉😋🤡🤓🙄

Beacause she loved me.

   Good morning y'all. It's Saturday before Mother's Day. What does it mean to be a mother? Mom? Momma?

   I did not have the best example of this in my mother. She was angry and bitter and cruel. I was off and on raised by my Granny. When I was with her I was loved and told I could accomplish great things. I was told that I carried value just because I am her Jillian. The very thing my Mother found offensive she found beauty in. She was much older and confined to a wheelchair, her face covered in wrinkles, where big brown eyes stared out from behind big hoot owl glasses. She cussed. She loved a good cold beer. She loved to share stories of her and my Grandaddy Lee's great love for one another, And she always thought the answer to a hurt was food. This could be my issue today, 🤔 but I digress. She was quick to lay down the law, and hand out the love ❤️ She did not lower the bar because of who I was or what I came from. She said it was because I was good enough to reach it and that spoke volumes. Someone expected something out of me?! And I would break my back to meet that bar and I would fail and try again and again. And because of this the bar got higher and higher and through failure and effort I continued to meet it. I think that's an amazing thing! How do you look at a dirty little foul mouthed angry kid and say, I love her!? I see beauty and potential in her?! I don't know friends, but she did! I was not one of those hallmark kids you see who are quiet and easy to love. I was hurting and angry and I wanted to hurt others to relieve my pain. I did not trust people especially those who were very kind because that is how you get hurt and taken advantage of. So what that looked like was not hurt and pitiful it was angry and aggressive. But Granny saw past it and God created her in such a way to break down or climb walls every time I rebuilt them. I miss her often and wonder if she would think I'm a good mom? I hope so I wish she could have seen Chance grow. I wish she could have met Hayden. She always said Chance was just like Rick, and oh how she loved Rick. She would say he was a good and important man. She was right but don't tell him that 😉. I know she would have been so tickled by Hayden. He is my little mini me in so many ways she would have loved that. So today I remember my Granny and I May cuss a little and have a cold beer for her!
   To those who struggle today, you've lost a child or are estranged from them. You struggle with infertility or miscarriage. You've lost your mother, or never really had one. I am truly sorry. I am praying for your hearts today. Please allow Father to wrap you up in His lap And to love on you! And hey if you need a hug, a good word, or prayer from this chubby momma. Just give me a call, I got you!

For reals though!

   I enjoy blogging and sharing of myself. I am flawed and broken, I had decided that the way to blog was to only speak joy and triumph. And while this is a part of who I am, I think most already know that part. Ya see, It's easy to share the photoshopped, filtered version of me. I like her and she is easily digested by the masses. When I share this side of me I get less visits to my blog (people know when it's real, and when it's real fake) but I also don't have to worry that this side of me won't be palatable and will be quickly spit out. So I tend to draw back, to pull away from the reality of this life. That while I absolutely love others I sometimes struggle to understand them and at times to even (dare I say it) like them. I think a lot of that struggle has been because I struggle to like me a lot of the time.

   I have taken a break from the expectations of men (and women for that matter). I am a mess. A glorious mess. I will be judgemental at times. I will have low self esteem and find myself jealous and needy. I will continue to struggle with anxiety from time to time. And once in a while that ugly beast Depression will rear its ugly head and threaten to devour me. And this will come and go and eb and flow. But, I will also continue to do better. I will not lie down and let it all overtake me. I am more than a conqueror, Because of God's mercy, I'm a co-heir with Christ! Spoiler alert so are you. 

   My early life was ugly and I have overcome things most of you cannot comprehend. I am thankful that you didn't have to walk that walk. I wish I hadn't. I will share more at a later date. However, that played a part in shaping me. I am a fighter! And in some ways that's amazing because had I not been I wouldn't be here today. But I find old habits are hard to kill. I do everything in my power to take captive every thought(some get away) I told a friend I still feel like the watcher on the wall. I am looking for and preparing for threats. And while this is a good idea when you're living in a war zone at home, it is a poor plan for peace and trust and friendships as an adult.

   I wear my heart on my sleeve and the idea of being left out or overlooked hurts. I want to belong and on some level so do you. I have decided to step out of a lot of things (and been invited to step out of others, LOL) and want to redefine who I am in the Father. Isn't that always the way with me. I have to pull away from everything and fall back into the arms of my father. I have to silence the voices around me and in me and I need Him to whisper into me peace and acceptance. I need to hear His warm laugh and words of " oh my girl how much I love you and delight in you!" In Zephaniah it says he sings over me and I cry as I picture Him a doting Father so in love with me he must sing into my spirit. 

   So as I begin again and again and again... I ask that you forgive me where I fail. But please understand regardless of your forgiveness I will forgive myself! I will live in peace and joy while battling a hundred foes. And I will be transparent. That's a lot. It might in fact be too much. I get it. I love you and I release you to God forbid not like me very much and find your peeps.