All By Myself... meets the end of the backstory

Yep, I went on a two night all by myself retreat to a beautiful hotel room that we cha-chinged on priceline for a P R E T T Y good deal. I know, I had never ever done that either - the two night personal retreat. I wasn't sure what I would think or what to expect.

It was wonderful.

I want to tell about it here partly because it was so wonderful and I would like to explain why you need one too, but also because in reviewing my last couple of years, this retreat hit on all of the important anything I would have to say... And I figured it might just wrap up the backstory once and for all.

This get-away was Greg's idea, and he wanted to make it happen before I head back into the full-time school year. Feeling a little unsure, I asked a few people for ideas on how to make the most of my time and then found myself furiously grabbing books, articles, my Bible, magazines, my notebook, etc. without wondering/pondering/questioning. As the time came to head out, I was ready...

I was unprepared, however, for what actually occurred on Friday night. I did not want to turn on the t.v. at all during the weekend, so I began the detox process once I reached my room. I started with my Southern Living Magazine that had JUST COME IN that afternoon about an hour before I left... awesome. I savored every page in the beautiful quiet. I felt inspiration dripping into my creative cognitive area (I don't know, it's just what I felt).

And then, it was just me in the silence looking out my beautiful window. For the first time in over two years, I felt that I was not alone while I was alone. I kept looking out my window as unexplained tears began falling more and more rapidly, coursing down my cheeks and dripping off my chin. For the first time, I talked with God about my last couple of years.

I told Him through now choking sobs how hard it was to go directly from the upheaval our family had been through to working full-time in a demanding and difficult job that required 13-14 hours a day and required me to speak in Spanish all day long. (I worked that first year as a Speech Therapy Assistant for a private Speech and Language Center that contracted out for home health services. I was only offered the job if I was willing to see all Spanish-speaking clients - which would have been great, if I was fluent in Spanish). During that time, my daughters were all going into their first full year of public school; I had previously home-schooled. It was a very difficult year for all of them, particularly Grace, who had a terrible kindergarten experience.

And I was absent... All year. Grace had an ear infection one week when I didn't know, so I just kept giving her tylenol and sudafed for symptoms and sending her to school. Finally on Friday I took her into the doctor to hear how extreme both ear infections were, and I almost broke down in the office. My job gave no days off and no vacation; I drove to areas 1 to 2 hours away from my house and children depending upon the time of day... I felt trapped and horrible. It paid the bills, but I was lonely driving around by myself all day; I became a spiritual and emotional zombie or wreck, depending on the day.

I told Him how that hurt my feelings.

I did not understand why God would have brought me to that place. Why would He have completely taken away my opportunity to do those things that I most value and put me in a place where due to the language barrier, I felt I had very little competence? Was He getting ready to just take me out of commission?

During that year, I was not in my right mind. I was situationally depressed, and I don't think Greg knew what to do with me. I spent many an evening sobbing in my walk-in closet.

I remember walking with Greg one evening when he said, "Kelly, what if God wants you to begin to understand the reality of His love for you? You have always come to situations with your hands full, ready to give and serve; but what if you need to see your value to Him, His overwhelming love for you with your hands empty, completely empty? What if you need to be satisfied with His love for you, even like that?"

I wanted to hit him very hard.

That option, if it was an option did not feel like love, but I never really told God that. Life was too raw for me to "go there" as I would say. I could not handle the surface of life, much less anything deeper...

In the midst of feeling like I was drowning and needing to be rescued, I read a book that was quite timely for me. It was the only book I read that year, and it's little. It's called The Prodigal God by Tim Keller. That book did not make me feel like I wanted to throw it against the wall like some false starts did that year. I felt starved for it. My biggest take-away that I still remember was that God, in His authority had not blinked and lost me. He had placed me exactly where I was for purposes beyond my understanding and he was asking me to trust Him.

I spent Saturday morning walking around the sculpture garden at Valley House Gallery -one of my favorite places.

After that epiphany, I started my day simply with, "God, You put me here; I need You to pull me through." I occasionally revisited my hubby's statements. After multiple frantic, unsuccessful attempts to find a new job that allowed for more flexibility and family time, it was just as I settled into this realm of trust that I found myself hired as a speech therapy assistant in a wonderful school district that was a 1/2 mile from my house in a whirlwind exchange started by a friend in our Lifegroup and clinched after my interview on the day Greg totalled the car I used for therapy... Really. But that's another story.

Of course, in hindsight, God was developing valuable skills and experience within me to prepare me for this new position (looking back, it was like being paid well to "go to school"), but I couldn't see that at the time. What I know is that my current job allows me to be essentially on the same schedule as my children, know completely what is going on in their schools (my therapy room was two doors down from Grace's first grade classroom last year), allows the girls to be in schools they love, lets me work with an amazing team of educators, do something I love, and speak my native language, and yeah - now I have vacation... I am amazed by it, actually.

I hadn't completely talked to God about that either. It ALL (good, bad, and ugly) came out on Friday night, and after about two hours of sobbing and talking to Him (and thinking "crap, I don't have benadryl or anything, I cannot breathe - how am I going to sleep?!), I came to a wonderful place of listening.

And that is essentially how I spent the rest of the beautiful weekend. I hadn't been there in a long time. Perhaps more on that later.

I will tell you the next morning began with me singing in bed:

Morning has broken Like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken Like the first bird
Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning!
Praise for them, springing Fresh from the Word!

Mine is the sunlight! Mine is the morning
Born of the one light Eden say play!
Praise with elation, Praise every morning,
God's recreation Of the new day!

P.S. I found a miraculous surprise benadryl in my make-up bag right after I brushed my teeth on Friday night.

The Back Story, Installment 3

A long time coming, I know.
This has been more difficult than I thought; I had to take a break. Trying again...

We arrived in Dallas and moved in with Brian and Melanie, unsure of any plan beyond. We were loved and nurtured while we frantically tried to formulate...

The next thing.

Greg asked to volunteer in the Arts ministry of Chase Oaks Church in Plano, because he needed to. Instead, they offered him a part-time position within the Arts. This was very part-time, so it didn't qualify as official family income, but it was a start and a place Greg needed to be. Our whole family needed this church and we loved being there (Grace too, once she got used to the size).

Greg put out feelers with everybody we knew... anything that paid? No real leads... Lots of conversations eventually lead to Greg and Brian partnering to start a coffee roasting business - Greg had already been hobby-roasting for years in our garage in Kansas, the coffee was excellent, there were amazing opportunities for a humanitarian focus...

Starting a new business is tricky (the sense of time and income-producing variables gets skewed in the vision stage), and although the business was slowly growing, reality began to sink in. Shortly after moving into our own home and beginning minor renovations (necessary in an angrily-lived in foreclosed-upon home), Greg and I realized I would need to find employment.

Um, marketable skills? Let's see... stay-home mom and then home-schooling mom for a total of 13 years. I think I gained lots of important skills during that time. How do I put those on a resume? Where do I send a resume?

No idea...

Ritz-Carlton

In light of it being our LAST day in Colorado, we embarked upon one more family hike this morning. Many of the hikes we've done in the past are currently closed due to massive amounts of snowfall this past winter ("You could try it, but you'd need snowshoes...").

Greg researched a new trail... the "Village to Village" trail that would take us from Arrowhead to Bachelor Gulch - right to the Ritz-Carlton that he's been wanting to check out anyway. Originally, he planned a longer hike but decided on this one because it was shorter and we could just hike right back to our van.

Trail map distances can be REALLY deceiving.

It was a gorgeous day, and thankfully we packed lunches. We saw snow, unique wildlife tracks, and breathtaking views. After 2 1/2ish hours of hiking uphill, Grace was steadfastly plopping one foot down after the other while her face looked as if it was being dragged along against it's will. We began to wonder if I should turn back now with Grace, but she wanted to stay together and try to keep going.

Grace handed me a dandelion ("blow flowers" as we've always called them), and told me to make a wish and then blow. Silently I made my wish/more of a prayer- "Please let there be a way to catch a shuttle back, so we don't have to walk all the way again..."

After one more 1/2 hour of downhill (hallelujah) hiking, we finally came upon civilization. Serious civilization. We arrived at the Ritz-Carlton, tired and slightly sweaty. Right inside the lobby was free lemonade and iced tea, so you could treat yourself to an Arnold Palmer - which we did. I had a looming headache due to needing afternoon coffee, so Greg went in search of coffee. The nice concierge said he didn't believe any coffee shops were open, so he would make us each a complimentary cup. He brought us coffee and two little plastic cups of cream.

We thought we were blending in relatively well, except for Abby's back-sack that said "Sheraton" (a gift from OUR concierge guy who wasn't as friendly when we didn't sign up for an appointment to hear more about being owners...) and enjoyed the wonderful service we were receiving. Greg asked about a shuttle that might take us back to our car (YESSS!), and the nice concierge helped us out again (didn't even ask us to make any appointments).

We caught a Ritz-Carlton shuttle that took us to Beaver Creek where we caught another shuttle that was supposed to take us to Arrowhead, except it didn't.

"Who told you a shuttle went to Arrowhead?" our shuttle-driver asked.

"Um, the concierge at the Ritz-Carlton," replied Greg.

Next thing we know, he's on the phone telling on that guy with significant emotion. He then tells us he's gotten us a ride and to make sure we told the lady driving the Suburban exactly who it was that gave us that incorrect information.

We didn't.

Because the deal is... he was very nice and treated us as if we were staying there (which we tried to pretend was true) and if he would've said there was no shuttle back to Arrowhead, we would've walked that whole way back again.

But this way we had a personal Suburban ride back to our car.

And we lived happily ever after.

Summer Margin

Summer is approximately 4.8 days old so far in my life and with it a glorious sense of margin I have not felt for awhile. Granted, my wonderful job allows me beautiful breaks during the year - but there is something about a budding sabbatical that brings mental, emotional, spiritual margin pushing me toward refreshment and growth.

I guess I feel like I've lived on autopilot for awhile now and I'm looking hopefully forward to trying my hand at flying a bit.

There are things that I want to be a consistent part of my life... reading, running, thinking, writing... that make me feel kind of like a failure during a 40 hour work week, because I cannot figure out how to incorporate them in. My hours at home disappear into the washing machine, grocery store, transportation to daughters' activities, a little into the oven and stove, a lot into the dishwasher, and then into exhaustion. I do love my job and feel immensely grateful for the opportunity to do what I do. My job brings me satisfaction, and I highly value what I have the opportunity to spend my hours doing (which I know is not the case for most people, and I recognize this as a blessing) -

However, I also realize that if I live on autopilot, I grow toward self-absorbtion, shallowness, soft in the middleness, and too much t.v. watchingness.

I am currently in Colorado thoroughly enjoying beauty, time to sleep and read and talk with Greg and the girls; time to run, hike, play tennis, and swim; time to play games as a family, go on dates with Greg, watch the Dallas Mavericks play in the NBA Championship (that's the only t.v. we're watching, really) and time to transition to margin.

Happy Summer.

Good Friday on Earth Day...

It is interesting to encounter the convergence of Good Friday and Earth Day. This morning my youngest daughter was singing a song about "mother earth" that she learned at school...

I went for a run today and even amidst the ridiculous wind, the fragrance of the delicately beautiful wild flowers and honeysuckle overwhelmed me. Last weekend I sat in our backyard garden watching as barn swallows, house finches, cardinals, doves, and blue jays stopped to eat at our bird feeder.

Tonight as we drove home from church, I watched an amazing sunset unfold in the sky; and I thought about the crucifixion of my Savior, who also happens to be the Creator of this amazing earth we inhabit. I considered how fitting it is to take a day to focus on caring for this home we have been entrusted with on the day we celebrate the life we are given due to the sacrifice of our Creator.

May I honor His creation because it draws me to worship the Beauty of its Creator. May I reverently care for this world because He's asked me to. May I never lose sight of Him.

Through Him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men... He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God...
-John 1: 3-4, 10-12

The Back Story, Installment 2

Right around the time it became clear to Greg and me that we would need to head out of our current situation in Kansas, we found ourselves driving out to the beautiful hill country of Texas for an invitation-only Artists' Retreat.

I know, that's what we were thinking. Really? We don't know where we are going in life after this, and we don't even know exactly why we get to go to this retreat, but retreat sounds like something we are seriously needing to do... so we did.

I share this detail, not because I have the time right now to expound upon the huge impact that event had upon our lives or the restorative power of the conversations we engaged in with some of the most talented and creative people we've met (keynote was a film maker from Scotland who lives in a castle, etc) or, looking back, what a truly amazing and God-thing that timing was -
Mostly I want to share why poetry became important to me again.

I had the privilege of attending a session with one of the featured writers, a published poet and poetry professor and singer/songwriter named Nathan Brown. He talked about how writing poetry became more than something he "ought to do" and in fact turned into therapy for him; something he couldn't be without as a means of daily expression if he were to maintain his sanity.

That stuck with me. Over the next few weeks, I found a similar effect in my life - along with running to really loud music.

I am NO poet, but I pretend like I could be sometimes. I share the following as an honest look at where I was, grappling with fear, anger, hope, grief.

10-8-08
The wind sings a song,
A mournful dirge
It seems to me
As it sweeps my gardens about.
But on a careful, lingering listen
I realize the birds are singing too,
Clear and crisp, but almost drowned
By the dirge.
The insects louder join, proclaiming
"The wind is blowing not only
To buffet and chase away
But to help send us where we are going."


10-11-08
Gratitude is the only option
When you are given a gift.
A well-timed gift, the thoughtful kind
Screams for a response in the midst of pain.
It sticks out - so bright it hurts your eyes.
And, on impulse, you close them,
But that doesn't block out the screaming,
Which begins to sound like something different.
A melody instead,
Enrapturing, prompting misty eyes
Back open-
Looking for Someone to thank.


10-12-08
There are seagulls stuck in Kansas.
I overhear their shrill cries through open windows.
Smirking at their stupidity,
I wonder why?
Could our little town's pond have drawn them?
Are they so confused?
So easily mistaken?
What of instinct or Providence?
I hear another single cry that pierces me.
I realize each gull has flown by
And cried - utterly alone.


10-31-08
Pain is a strange thing-
Sneaking up on me
In tears or anger or fear,
Often when I least expect it,
Controlling me and revealing
That bitterness
Is not quite as far off
As I had hoped.

We drove away from Kansas with our moving van on November 11, 2008.

I love you, stinky face

I have to share the results of our Valentine's Day "homework" that came home with Grace this week. Her teacher read the book I Love You, Stinky Face and had each student write their own small version as a letter to their parents and draw a picture to go with it.

The parents then had to write a response and draw a picture to be displayed next to their child's.

What Grace wrote:

Dear Mom and Dad,
If I wher a big which and I had big sharp and slimy teeth and I would tarn you to a frog will you still love me?
love Grace holmes

(Sorry her picture is sideways)-


What we wrote:

Then we would give you a toothbrush and bubblemint toothpaste to clean your teeth. And we would ask you to make us people again, so we could hug you in our big, long arms. If you didn't, we would hop up onto your head and give you a froggy kiss on your forehead and croak, "We love you, Slimy Teeth Witch!"
No matter what.
Love, Mom and Dad

picture by Greg, of course