WorshipFULL

And so I started this blog as a sort of fast/praise/journey of this unique project for work and God/discovery process/documentation of events. It has been all of those things and more. It seems God used this to connect me to one I am to connect with and today my heart aches for this very one. In fact my heart has been aching for weeks for reasons both apparent and absent of cognitive understanding.

I have not had the God-filter I have grown accustomed to since our return from the Rockies. In that time the project which inspired this blog was pulled. At the hour in which it was being uploaded to print, the "client" decided it was too risky and pulled it. The after-effects for those involved has been very much like a grieving process. People put themselves, their heart, their gifts, their faith and their hope into this work. They gave up weekends, they sacrificed and without warning their work was abandoned and disrespected. Clearly, I felt the loss too. It is done and I am certain God has a very "good for all of us" reason behind the decision.

I was left evaluating my character - a challenge indeed when anger and hurt dominate the mind. I really wanted to project grace and rise above the negative into understanding and wisdom. Two weeks later I found myself ...still pissed. Two weeks and two days later, in my frustration and confusion and with His help I was able to break through to my God-filter. He showed me that the enemy wanted me to stay mad. The enemy wanted me to believe my character has not changed, that I may as well just accept murky thoughts and lack of focus. And God told me directly not to wait another minute. In the middle of my workout, I was told to take the authority Jesus gave us when he died to send Satan back to hell. To un-invite and demand satan be evacuated from my mind.

After I followed this direction - it was as if I could see the spirit of confusion take off "like a bat out of hell" and my body fell down and wept. I was able to commune again with my Jesus. I was able to feel his care. And that feeling of safety, concern and love made me feel like a child, like an asshole, like a failure and a success all at once. I felt forgiven...again.

Two weeks and three days later I am sad and tired. And sure enough God used someone that has made a home inside my soul to provide perspective. You know who you are and for whatever reason you are to know that I am with you. In fact I may need to make a trip on Friday, November 7th to see you.

Praises because when I am hurt, when I am angry, when I am hopeFULL, when I am sad, when I am joyFULL, when I am weak, when I am peaceFULL, when I am bitter - I will be faithFULL and praise HIM!!

Rocky Mountains

My husband's parents divorced when he was in the first grade. From what I understand his Dad was a school administrator and his Mom was a teacher. His Dad was cheating with his Secretary that his Mom often confided in at times. After the divorce Dad and secretary got married and have been together ever since. Mom remarried a former pastor from church and have been together ever since and even added a son to the brood.

Plenty of drama around custody lasted for years and as a result the boys (my husband is a twin) spent their life mainly with Mom. Every time the boys would leave for their 6 weeks in the Summer with Dad, Mom would cry. Boys hate to see their Mom cry. And so began the manipulation.

As they grew up the challenge to navigate everyone's needs became part of life. Because they spent most of their time with Mom, her feelings were projected onto and into them in many ways and their relationship with Dad was impacted. Often this parlays into rebellion and fights with Dad, but not for them. Instead it manifested into a strange distance between Father and sons.

To me the relationship with their Dad appears kind of awkward and uncomfortable.

Over our marriage both sets of parents have been supportive and kind to us. Both have helped us and cared for us. Both sets are "Christian" and like all of us, do their best to be the people God wants them to be. But their efforts are cloaked with messages of either "I'm a victim - take my side" or "It's her fault because she is so controlling and she gives us no grace or peace." Bitterness is as clear as day to me. And most times when we see them some manifestation of these messages come through in dialog.

Our recent trip to Colorado was no different, but this time it hit a nerve in MY marriage.

While doing my best to find peace in our 4-day "vacation" with Father in law and Step-Mother In-Law in Colorado, I was presented with the traditional dissertation about why my Mother In- Law is evil. Let's give them names. Father-In-Law will be Earl, Step, Mother-In-Law will be Shannon, Mother, In-Law will be Maggie and Step, Father-In-Law will be Dave.

I am going to stop now and write more later on the events later. My love and I decided we need to pray and talk some, first.

When I found out I was pregnant I told him I had no interest in getting married. I told him I would move to Europe and no one in his family would ever have to know but I was having this baby and I was happy about it. I told him that there was no alternative. I knew that if I aborted this baby that I would burn in hell and I told him so. God forgave me once but this life is His and mine.

He has since told me it was at that point that he KNEW he loved me. After our son was born I said "don't even think about asking me until he is at least 6 months old." So on Christmas eve, when our son was only 3 months old he sat me on the couch and began talking, trying to convince me that he wanted to marry me not because we have this perfect boy but because.... I drifted into meditation at that point.

I began repeating a simple plea (at the time I didn't realize I was praying) "Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer for me. Answer ..." his pause indicated a response was required and to my dismay I said "yes". I said "yes" to the boy I was certain I would not marry. I said yes to the man I wasn't sure I loved. I figured I could back out but by January we were head to Columbus with our new baby and a wad of cash for a ring.

We went to pawn shops and mall jewelry stores in the sketchy parts of town. If I was going to do this I wanted a ring with character and perhaps a great story to go along. We found something really sparkly at the mall and I was hooked. I figured I could still back out, it wasn't like he took a loan out or anything. Anyway, he was getting more and more attractive to me for some odd reason. He didn't feel the need to try to fit into my family. Instead he chose to listen. I was so falling in love.

We chose April 21st because our son would be a full fledged 6 months old by then. I had no interest in the whole tradition or cultural norms. Frankly, by March I decided that I had fallen madly, deeply in love with this brilliant and magnificent man and wanted this exchange to be just for and between us. I wanted it to be our very own - no guests just his step-dad/former pastor making it legit.

Well, my rents, his rents, his grand-rents and his twin were not pleased with that idea. So I acquiesced...to some degree. I asked my sister, Esther if she would be my main lady (whatever it's called) and my soul sister, Nik to be the other chick. When they asked what they should wear I said "I don't care - be comfortable." My rents came to St. Louis for the event which was when I bought some candles for the patio. I made my Love and his twin move a tree in the backyard - more for kicks (to see if they would actually do it.) than anything.

My Aunt Gelly insisted that I have flowers and gave my mom the cash. I told her I could use the cash - but mom insisted that she have a picture to show Aunt Gelly. So I took the loot, went to the grocery store and purchased the closest thing to weeds I could find. My lil sis tried to insist that I wear some blue garter thing to which I relied "I will wear nothing under this dress and that is final."

We got a tiny tuxedo for our large-headed fella and next thing I know I am asking Esther to properly apply a false eyelash while I drink a glass of champagne. A few moments later I headed up the patio walkway with dad and the jig was up. Only about 15 or 20 people there - Baal couldn't make it. I fought back tears as I looked at my handsome King. When the big show was over, we took our boy and walked back down that patio together as a family. The family God chose to be together.

When I think back I understand that our first son was mandatory. Not to only save me, but to save us and not just to save but to do some remarkable work for God. God needs this boy. And when I think about the last 9 and a half years with my husband I think I was a toad. I have found everyday with him to be nothing I'd imagined and a thousand times more than I had ever hoped for myself. I am certain without any doubt that my Papa selected us for each other. I have more than I could ever need, want, or desire in this man. When He answered for me, he showered a blessing on me that I am still in awe of and still utterly undeserving of. My respect for my husband only grows and my shock in what God can do lingers to this day.

Papa we are close to celebrating a decade of joy. Thank you for this life. Thank you for these men that you gave me to fill in my heart. Thank you for proving you are real through them. Thank you for allowing me to experience joy. Please make a way for us to spend our anniversary in Italy. We want to see the image of your finger touching Adam's on that great ceiling. I know it is frivolous, I know that there is no way we can conjure up nine grand in 6 months - but I know you can. I know this is our desire and it's a silly request even. But when E, the man who hates to fly, said "I want to go to Europe for our anniversary." it was too out of character for You not to be in it. And so if you are in it and if you so chose, make a way.

I love you Papa. Thank you for a week of rest. Please help me get back to work with a crown of wisdom and understanding. Help me to wait, to be informed and to represent you in all I do. In your Son's precious name I pray! Amen.

Doomtastic to Bombastic - or Beauty from Ashes

I never imagined that I would get to be the recipient of something so remarkable. My eldest sister (we'll call her Esther), a pretty decent Catholic from my view anyway, was selected from everyone I know by God. he chose her to bring me wisdom and guidance. I called her after making the same mistake (AGAIN) of calling my other sister (we'll call her Baal) to inform of my impending doomtastic weekend encounter.

Baal speaks through the spirit of confusion, apathy, and the mystical. My discussion with her yielded only fervent prayer on her behalf that she be free from herself. Oh and it also yielded familiar frustration. So after the call, I told my Love and he said "Yeah - I would probably always call Esther first, if I were you". Agreed. Well, better late than early, I guess - so I went ahead and placed that call to Esther.

I read to her what I wanted to say to the parents. And when I was finished she spoke with such care for me and for them "You know, some people change and some don't. You may want to think about maybe talking to him first. Plus you'll get the easy one done first." or something like that. then she went on to say something like " I am not so sure you will believe it if she is sincere - I am not sure she is capable of facing this - ever."

Almost immediately my paradigm shifted. "Yeah maybe your right - I am not even sure if I am brave enough to face this anyway. So if I am it's probably good to build confidence where I already know there is a willingness." We said our goodbye's and I went to bed. The next day, when I got home from work (I took the long way home - by route of a park where I stopped to pray), the mother was in the yard waving. That same old dread welled up in me and I went into that trance-like state of survival.

She "had to eat" and so we quickly got everyone in the car to go somewhere that we knew would be fast - not good - but fast. As we dined I could feel the web of manipulation choking me. I looked over at the table with a family praying and I as jealous. When I put my head down to pray silently, I couldn't. It was evil prohibiting my communion with God. Now I am not saying SHE is evil but the spirit(s) within her is what I battle. Anyway, when I got home I called my coach. My coach is a prophet, teacher, prayer warrior, therapist and all around super smart, cool chick. And she is also my closest friend. She has been working with me for a little less than 2 years on the healing process.

Coach listened to me about dinner and with no knowledge of my sisters insights she said "Here is what I know. First and foremost, you are to let the Holy Spirit lead your conversation. Second, your Love (husband) is to take authority in Christ and for his home to bind all spirits that are NOT of God. Those spirits may not speak or manifest in any way. Third, you are not to have the discussion with your mom. The timing is wrong. God desires her and if you had the conversation now it may risk the work He wants to do in her. And, you will be further wounded. You ARE however to speak with your Dad. He is ready and you are ready to receive whatever he has to offer. It may not look like you expect - but it will be good. This entire weekend will be good. I know it."

Interesting that she confirmed what my sister said. And sure enough the opportunity presented itself later that night. The mother finally went to bed and I suggested that my dad and I sit on the deck. We talked for hours. Neither of us broke down, we faced so many things it is hard to even remember all of them. It was nothing like what I expected. It was hard, but we were both brave. I was reminded that we each experience things through different filters, that we remember things differently (even if we have witnesses!) and that our words and our actions must be carefully chosen in every situation. I forgave him in advance of him asking for it, because my God was calling me to do so and I told him such. We agreed we knew very little about one another. We agreed that this may help us to change that and I thanked him for this chance. We faced some really hard things, safety, trust, self-control and on and on.

One of the things he shared confirmed what I knew in my heart and what Esther said on the phone. He said "I don't believe you will ever have the chance to discuss this with mom." The words did not sting even a little bit. I knew it and those words told a new story. They meant that I would have to further adjust my paradigm with mom. I would need to allow grace and compassion to overcome disappointment and betrayal.

One really cool thing was when I spoke to Esther she asked my to make a request on her behalf if I had the chance "Ask him why he can't come over for dinner alone? Why does she always have to be with him." I told him and he gave reasoning (excuses) and I told him again. I told him that he doesn't know us and that he gets to choose if he wants to. If he wanted to he could figure out a way. He finally said "I didn't know and now that I do I will make a concerted effort to do that." He even came up with a strategy.

At 2am after holding it for an hour I said "I have to use the bathroom. Let's go inside." When I came out he was already upstairs going to bed and I was glad we didn't have to do any cliche hugging stuff. I went to bed, bound those spirits and thanked God for this work. The rest of the weekend was fine. I resolved to try to figure out how to love mom. The more I thought about the experience with my dad the more I thought about Esther. I remember times when i have been used by God and I remember how profound and meaningful it was for me. I remember feeling honored that He chose me. I recall the thrill that He trusted me. Esther needed to know that she impacted history by allowing God to use her.

I called her after they left told her those things and thanked her for her counsel. Beauty from ashes.

To the sole knower of this blog I am so deeply moved and grateful for the care and prayer and confidences that your have honored me with this week. From the start, the song and the words and they prayer allowed room for strength and courage that I wasn't convinced I had. Thank you and thank you infinity. I love you very much and love to yours as well. May you be abundantly blessed for your free giving to me. And one more thing - who sings that song and what is it? Must have - stat!

Thanks Papa for all of this I love you.

Going to have to face some demons this weekend. Demons of the childhood variety that has left unsightly and painful wounds on my psychology and my relationships. If anyone is there I need prayer, it is way bigger than me and I easily dip back into the 3 year old girl that experienced such confusion.

You see, some chose to forgo filling my "safety" bucket when I was tiny. And it is an area that I have spent the last two years allowing God to try to heal. Not sure if I have the courage to face those demons or fall into the trance of familiarity, stress, anxiety and depression. I always hope for something new, something better, something expressed and something deep in my exchanges with them but I am always left disappointed, misunderstood, and again depressed.

So I'll give it a go again. I should have finished the letters I started and mailed them in advance of the visit, but I didn't and I am counting on God to allow accountability. I am counting on God to open up the heavens and afford me the space and emotion to reveal to them that they owe me an apology.

You know if I could say just one thing to sum it up I would say this: "As a parent you are required to do everything you can to keep me safe. You don't even have to love me but you must keep me safe. You knowingly placed me in unsafe environments where bad things happened and you, yourselves inflicted a violence that was so out of line and curiously only on me as confirmed by the siblings. The mix of the two have left me......"

Oh well - I could go on and on and I should just save it for the letters. hmph...more work to do.

I thank you in advance God for your grace, freedom and healing for me and them. I should like to "Honor my parents." but I am having a hard time with that on account of the misplaced respect. Help me please.

Gobbelly Gook

Ok here it is my Papa - it's all yours, the good, the bad, the ugly & disgruntled and the excitement spilling out all over the place.

The last week has been brimming with extremes. From thrilling new discoveries and hidden talents revealed in the "weening and winning" project to utter disappointment with the lack of needed gifts in another super-sized project. The days, evenings, early mornings and weekend have absorbed my energy but not my enthusiasm. Strange and interesting how you give me both all mixed in together. Despair and victory all in one bite. Do you do that because I get too juiced about the good and end up losing self-control? Do you drop the load of steaming poo on my brain to balance the explosive sunshine and daisies? Well, either way, I appreciate it. I am glad you do it.

It gives some slant to the great to have the gooey stinking up the sidelines of my mind, and I believe it is necessary.

I got so excited today about the reactions to the creative strategy for Weening and Winning project that I showed the Source some comps and samples. Given my trust meter on him is somewhere in the bowels of the negative, it was a dumb move. Stinkin' self control! I expressed my regret to the Source indicating a lack of trust in his ability to keep the work quiet and as expected it was met with no response. No response, as expected. So I blew it ... again on multiple levels.

Later, feeding off of the energy of the great feedback on the strategy from others, I got myself all happy again. Then I got one of the best samples of 6th grade chick on chick conflict ever. It would have been a lot cooler if the chicks were 11. Instead these women, ages 26 - 39 have engaged in an emotional, bitchy and complex, little, battle of manipulation and I may have to moderate. One of them thought it would be a good idea to "keep me informed". May I just say that until I digress back to 12 years old, change my name to Ashley and grow angel wings from my butt - I do NOT wish to get anywhere near this type of conflict.


Ahhh it is so nice to be able to say these things freely. While this space is to commune with my God, I feel it only appropriate to call out what He already knows. The understanding of this forming relationship with Him is liberating in the purest sense. I understand now, that while He is indeed aware of my iniquities, He is also aware of my good stuff too. And then of course, He is aware of well- everything which makes it easier to be honest about my frustrations on account of it is not anything He didn't expect or already know. Sounds babbly - but it's mind-expansion to me.

I mentioned a similar idea to "mind-expansion' to someone today and I would just like to give credit in writing to Big Daddy for it. See, over the last year and a half, God has lifted a veil that limited my point of view on topics from career, work, family, childhood experiences, business, God, the Holy Spirit, The Father, my kids, my husband, and so on and so on. My new view affords wisdom and understanding a better chance to exist in me. Thanks Dad!


A garbled mess this one - but I love and thank you Jesus for the work you have invested in me. And thank you for divine inspiration of the advertising team, for preparing the hearts and minds of the clients to receive your work and ultimately for the joy of victory that rightly belongs to you. Thank you so much for these exquisite gifts that I am so not worth receiving!
I love you.

My Favorite

Silly as it sounds, I prayed last night that God would make sure I got up early. I wanted to be at work at 5am. I set the alarm for 3:30 knowing I would snooze it a couple times. At 3:20, my love tossed and turned - so much so and so unusual for him that I stirred. Before I could nestle back into my sweet sleep, thunder roared outside and rain pounded the ground audibly.

I rolled over and immediately recognized that my Papa was waking me up. I smiled at this knowledge and spoke to him internally "just ten more minutes, ok?" Like good dad, He did not rest until I was up and at 'em. The thunder persisted until my feet hit the ground. Still out of it, I turned off the alarm which had not yet begun it's beeping.

It was such a marvelous way to wake up. to ask your Dad to wake you up and He does and He makes sure that He accomplishes what was asked. What is that scripture about if your child asks for food you don't give him a snake? Nope you wake her sorry butt up to go back to work and hope that she does something good for Him.

I am not so sure I accomplished the latter - but I sure got a warm, safe joy from knowing that something as small as waking me up made it to Big Daddy's To Do List. It makes me feel like I am His favorite. Aren't we all?

It didn't start as a poem - so pardon the rhymes

Disrespecting while being disrespected, I was.
It was an impromptu meeting that I was ... dreading.
Partially because one of the party was a boy named Pest.
Well he's a man I guess. None the less he makes a mess
Whenever something strikes his fancy
He gets on a a soapbox and begins his verbal dancing.

Selling his latest to anyone who'll listen
Only his ideas are the ones that glisten
To him, he is bright and upright and a wise man
To me he is shady and like a downtown car salesman.

I know his intentions are good...
Or to make him "look good" I can't decide.
God has placed him in my path for an uncomfortable ride.
What should I get from this smarmy Pest?

I provided the strategy to unwanting ears
The party sighed, ignored and begans with their fears.
"It's not enough, the customer wants more!"
They argued "year published, paraphrase, dynamic equivalence"
While I sat stewing in confounded indifference.

I offered a thought that perhaps we are talking to ourselves
Which was met with a response like "25 years selling the Bible I think I know how to sell from the shelves."
Aware of my offense which triggered my female instincts
I apologized, accepted the notes, and thought "this stinks"

I felt so bad not just cause I disrespected
But because I also felt so disrespected.
You see my career in retail has always sold to women
And most of the time companies are governed by men

They don't seem to care or understand our plight
Rather talk to themselves and keep out of sight
The voice of the company comes across to us girls
As arrogant and dismissed -
To the swine I throw pearls

I bring my gifts and the boys feel free to rob
Therein lies parity between my gender and job
If I could truly speak to my girls in their hood
We'd be honest, vulnerable and so much more understood.

I'll read this later and feel like a shit
With my gender and Catholic upbringing comes a guilt trip
My preference is hope though - He'll reveal something right
I will look to my Papa for the gift of sight.

Solomon Says...

My youngest provides logic beyond understanding. Today's enlightenment is worth a "big up" to Big Daddy as it gave me another slice of joy. He's a bright, shiny six year old (we'll call him Abner) and his banter goes something like this (stage setting - mall food court):

Abner: "Mommy?"
Me: "Yeah Boo?"
Abner: "I'm sad."
Me: "Why Boo?"
Abner: "Cause now I want to do TWO things. I want to ride the carousel AND play Mario Kart."
Me: "Well that's ok - you can do both...why are you sad?"
Abner: "Cause I'm not TWO PEOPLE!!!!!!" I would swear there was a "you idiot." after his reasoning.

Thanks Papa for the gift of joy. We're not so fond of the time and space continuum down here, but we love you all the same.

ReSourceFULL

Friday morning God told me not to gloat and relish in the discomfort of the Source having been trumped. It was as if God said "I know it's natural for you, in your anger to be a little turd. But I love this boy and you treat him with dignity, missy." My morning trip to the Bucks held that thought and it saturated my morning so when the the Source walked into my office with a bit of egg on his face, I was visibly embarrassed. I wanted to show him respect but all I could muster was a couple of red cheeks and the feeling that he knew I was being corrected by God.

The decision as to whether the project was a "go" and whether or not we would get the resources was very close at hand, and it was looking really good. Even still, just the day before the project went from dead to life beyond expectation. And so while good at 8am with each hour that passed the odds get worse - if the wind blows all bets are off. The Source could very well be the deliverer of the news. After the obligatory exchange of chit and chat he got to it.

Trying hard to man-up while maintaining some level of ego he said he spoke to the construction guys and told them to make room for my new peeps. Not believing him and feeling the need to protect myself, I took the apathetic stance. "That will be great if it happens, whatever works!"

Essentially, I could not accept the positive decision from him and he could not accept the job of giving it to me. It's funny, really.

When he first showed up the previous Superboss sent The Source my way. Having shared a childhood of Catholicism and arriving in the foreign land of grace, previous Superboss knew we would have a lot to talk about. And so began a fun exchange and enjoyable working relationship. For the first year or two he was here, The Source shared frustrations while I shared exasperations. It was lovely. And then something changed.

Well for me it was only everything. God decided that me and my family experience a miracle. And through the miracle He would transform a bunch of hideous rocks in the garden of my mind and soul into lush, ready soil. It really had nothing to do with The Source but I suddenly found myself quite absorbed in something quite different.

With those changes, a different view of the Source's behavior emerged and I didn't like it very much. I experienced multiple examples of betrayal of trust. What was fun and frank, turned distorted and misused. No doubt I committed my own series of crimes, too. Either way I just so hated it when he was an asshole- uniformed, know it all. How's that for grace?

So I sit here on Monday, having decided that this blog would become not only my tithe but my fast and I have no formal decision. Doesn't matter though - there are more important things at stake. I can see right through my words here and into a new view of me and The Source. Both are deliciously busted and equally exquisite.

Maybe I'll get the real answer tomorrow.

Crazy God - you always freak me out...in a good way!

So, I get an alarming call related to the "weening and winning" project late yesterday. The superboss had been influenced by some "new" information from other sources. His concern was geared toward the costs associated to the resources need to take on the project. The discussion quickly led to the need to discuss further but was left with the understanding that the project was dead. And so a call was set for 2pm today. Thank you Papa for allowing the time to download your will into my very small brain.

Instead of a jump drive, He chose one unlikely fellow, the unassuming pitchman and a tiny-little, redheaded prophet to do His bidding. The Supreme Multi-tasker also went ahead and gave me a shot at reciprocating with the unlikely fellow in our little chat.

In that span of time, I complained about the sources who were against us. I played the victim, whining "there is so little value and even less understanding of the creative work and process." I asked my pitchman how he would respond. And I finally let go. The prophet prayed, Mr. Unlikley pontificated and Pitchman delivered with unthinkable wisdom.

So this morning, my God let me sleep in. I got to work around 7 leaving an hour before my first meeting coincidentally (or not) to work the internal strategy with our budding associate creative director. The hour was used by God to organize my thoughts into a talk sheet. The subsequent hours were used to define that internal strategy. With my Papa walking in front of me I headed to the room for our call...

Superboss, Mr. Unlikely and me began with Mr. Unlikely spilling his soda. Followed by the summary from Superboss ending with the question "why now?". I answered with "This call may be very short. The proposal stems from the request from previous superboss to provide an internal solution. We can wait until next year to do it." Superboss responded with a review of financials then and now and asked "Are we trying to get side by side learning, agency versus internal?"

"Well, we would not be getting a comparison as the agency is delivering one catalog for customer P while the internal would deliver a catalog for customer G." I answered. Ahhhh, a new understanding emerged and the questions kept coming. Mr. Unlikely explained on his bit and I on mine. With each question God provided a way. A way to inform versus whine, a way to explain versus complain and a door to understand without asking.

After a few math exercises, a short look at the year ahead and a brief assessment of the current team - a tentative decision was announced to permanently hire the four resources. The review of the decision would be discussed with Pitchman (currently on vacation) and the Source to confirm. Clearly, the organization is not in a place of adding peeps, in fact we have had to go the opposite direction. So this addition is precarious at the least. It is balanced by the need to get the learning from these catalogs/communications to our customers. I will find out tomorrow whether the decision is final.

So here I sit in awe of God...again. He told me these things over the past two weeks:
1. Get informed, slow down and wait to make decisions until you are fully informed.
2. Only MY plans are worth it and only MY plans work. No attempt of the enemy will win.

Check. Check. Copy that. Roger.Roger.

My wise Pitchman said just before he went on vacation "Humility is a great place to be. Honor God and use each gift to glorify Him." After the events of the day I have decided to take on one of my weird fasts. Usually I fast from Starbucks and my purpose is to hear God. Everytime I want a Starbucks, I turn my mind to Him. Today, I've decided that one of the ways I will honor and glorify Him is by sacrificing my time. Dedicating my time to praising him through these words I write. And so for the duration of this project. I dedicate these stolen moments to Him.

Good thing no one is here to read this little saga - it may get boring. But for my God, I will make the time to document His great work.

New Disclaimer: I am going to post even though I would prefer to edit for readability, style and understanding.

Divine Motivation

I have come out of agreement with arrogance before. Many times actually. Okay, on a regular, practically daily basis. It seems my God is giving me many opportunities to prove out my belief that He can free me from mself. BLAST, if I don't fail 9 out of 10 times.

Clearly He is serving up the chance for me to tackle the combo meal of arrogance AND self-control. I tend to take the one out of the ten times to pat myself on the back which rapidly turns to an "I've got it licked" attitude then I am smack in the middle of defeat all over again.

I feel him saying to me through a sweet smile "I've got a job for you, lady." I want the job. I really want the job. I want to feel His great pride and humility wash over me. I want a motivation that is pure. The words "glorify Him." Come to mind, and I wonder what that looks like.

It is a tricky business to fully use my gift of leadership and maintain the balance of restraint and humility. A worthy goal - but is it for me? Or for His glory? What was that bit about motivation, again?

Papa, you get to chose for me. Thank you for taking me on. Thank you for your forgiveness over and over again. My prayer to you today, is that you will nest in my motivation and expand your will in my heart. I pray that you free me of my own will, there I said it. I mean it, too. Let's kill my will and replace it with yours. I love you. In your sons name I pray these things.

I dare say...

I can't believe I used "alas" in the last post. I am a chronic Ninny indeed. I feel so spy-like being here. Farewell xanga and facebook I come here anonymous. Anonymity provides a freedom I rather fancy. I can speak freely of the God I am searching out and the mindfulness I seek, without the constraints of expectations.

This space will be all jumbled up with my praises, prayers and prose. And highly-likely a choice word or two. So I'll ask forgiveness and grace early on as this place is just for me. I've no intention to reveal myself though upon the unfortunate discovery of this blog, let it be said that I am a believer who is painfully inadequate.

Be warned, I am not handy with punctuation, nor grammer, or spelling. I am simply here to spill some thoughts. I may even practice my secret desire for self-restraint. Who knows? I may not come back for days. So manage your own expectations of me and I'll do the same.

Should've started with the disclaimers, eh?

weening and winning

And so it begins. I am officially on vacation. For three lazy days I get to sleep in - well past the exceedingly normal 4am. I get to paint all the trim I want and I get to wake up those miniature men using the tiny dog to walk on their heads. My love and I will stay up late talking about things only we understand and playfully order each other around in true Gordon Ramsey fashion. We’re in the shit, yes?

One thing though, I am having difficulty weening myself off of the smackberry. I woke up with thoughts of D’s spreadsheets and replies from advertising dancing in my head. The latter is one of the most significant coups in my five years with X. The thought of their responses from my email late yesterday had me positively giddy. In those five years I have had an unnatural desire to take our current, crap-infused catalog that boast over 300 products, bugs, dot-whacks and mandatories to a place that might actually give our organization a “leg up”. And I men that literally. For this group, “leg up” does NOT mean an advantage over the competition. No, to us it is the physical manifestation of deep pride in other peoples accomplishments.

I have long been an admirer of the talent-swell among the design team. A recent discovery of the well-hidden treasure in our copy department has me over the moon. To say nothing of the disciplined, mother-like care from production. Year after year, I have been hopeful to put an end to the tragedy that keeps these talents tucked away and at times drained of passion and life for the sake of tummy-meters and time constraints. Having experience compromise after disappointment in presenting our baby (the X brand that we have in our hearts and minds) to the X community - my faith that our most recent (and thorough, I might add) proposal to redesign the crapolog would have the same fate was - certain death. I have never been more certain that these people are well-equipped, nerves and all to take on the daunting, if not dubious and potentially X-changing project but the odds have been traditionally against us.

Then there’s God. It appears he has decided to give us a go. He chose this rather unassuming guy to be the pitchman and influence a brand spanking new outcome. That same guy, having a real good sense about what matters to people, had the good sense to ring me up and tell me that “we’re on”. It felt a lot like having our work chosen for world-wide recognition. The kind of recognition where you don’t have to give speeches and nobody knows what you look like or how to reach you. They just know your names and that you do what you say and you say what you do - and you do it really, really well. But I digress. After he promised that he wasn’t yanking my chain, I sent the team an email chock full of my excitement and waited.... After an hour of no responses I realized I sent the note after hours and would have to wait until morning to hear their replies.

So I snuck downstairs at 9:30am and peered around the corner hopeful of seeing that blinking, red, dingleberry light indicating new messages and I got nervous. What if i misjudged THEIR enthusiasm? What if it is really ME that desires to show off their gifts? What if gobs of women who dig gifts and dig God will miss out on the chance for a real live exchange between us? Alas the red light beckoned and I breathed ready to face the answers to those questions.

I stole away to the garage, feeling a bit sneaky to view the responses. It is best summed up by this one “Is it okay to be excited and a little scared at the same time?”. Admittedly I share that sentiment.

God, you are giving us a shot for your purposes. Thank you for trusting us - we don’t come close to deserving it. Be with us every second and direct our every move and word spoken. Protect us from the waiting obstacle and bring to us the ones you have chosen to help...quickly. In Jesus name, amen.