The Un-Social Year

Hello peeps,

So for this next season of my life, I have decided to take an "unsocial year." I'll be off all social media for the completion of 2015. I will stay email, blog and Skype accessible. I plan on blogging throughout the year to keep track of how the break may effect my life and general life happenings. If anyone is interested in following, my blog URL is http://theseareafewofmyfavoritethingsgraced.blogspot.com/ I'd love the support and followers!

Please know this has nothing to do with the negative effects of social media or any sort of silliness like that, it's more of a "refresh" button for me. I don't have the discipline to not be checking in on all the lives of my wonderful people! So I am creating an opportunity to train myself in such disciplines. I have also seen an incredible level of intentionality in my life the past two years and I want to take some time to turn that around and see what it looks like to be that intentional myself. I am very much looking forward to seeing how God works in my life the next 365 days and making my world a little smaller. Sometimes a little fine tuning is necessary before the whole can continue on properly. This past year and even more specifically this past fall has been one of the most open, honest, hard, humbling, altering, frustrating, wonderful, and healing seasons of my entire life. I am grateful to be going into this next year fresh off of that roller coaster. I will still be on Facebook until January 1st so between now and then if anyone wants a better way to stay connected, let me know and I will touch base with you. I am a super great pen pal and love having new friends to write! Thanks for loving me so well and I will see you back here in 2016!!

Overcompensating

The past couple weeks I have been feeling as if I was building walls again to protect myself from all that happened this fall. This morning I found this post I started in October. Father, forgive my broken ways.

"Sooooooo life is hard, currently. My grandmother had a horrific accident last week and ended up in the ICU for four days followed by hospice care at my parents home. We are pretty close so the hit was brutal. I rushed back to Missouri the evening it happened and remained there all week. Leaving Sunday meant consciously driving away knowing I will most likely never see my grandmother alive again. I made it about 2 miles down the road before I had to pull over and "ugly cry" as my sister puts it. I felt my heart breaking as I tried to get a grip. This world is so broken. And it hurts. Oh it can hurt so much sometimes. Today as I finished my *cough* 3rd Krispy Kreme  aka "overcompensation for my feelings" doughnut, I realized not only was this not a productive way to handle my grief(imagine that), it was killing me. This weight I have continued to carry with me isn't exactly just the weight of being in a broken world. It was a combination of anger, regret, guilt, and lack of willingness to forgive. The last week of my life has been absolutely broken. I told "my story" in my small group, completely wrecking my walls from the inside out. That was the first time I had ever told it all together and to such a large group of people. I talked about things I haven't even talked about to myself. It wrecked me. Which was what I had been praying for God to do for months now. That was only the tipping point. The next morning was when I got the phone call from my dad about grandma. The days that followed were filled with tears, pain and just a glimpse of hope. I ended up having a long conversation with my mom in the hospital that may have led to a breakthrough in our relationship. Perspective. Driving away was an initial ripping off the band aid. Staying by her side until she took her last breath and controlling my last moments with her, that was the band aid. I am trying to remain free of the bandages in hopes the exposure will show God I am ready for Him to fully heal my soul. I don't know if that is actually a thing, but as of right now, I am open to the chance that it is."

Growing Old

Age is such an intriguing idea to me. There is a saying. "only the good die young." I have a few questions about such a statement. What of those who live a long life? What do you consider long? Or full? 70s? 80s? 100? My brother Luke, died when he was 16. Some would say that is young. Cut short. Ah, but what of my recent Grandma's passing? 94 years in her span. She lived the long life people would say was "full, complete." Growing old is a thing of beauty. A gift. An opportunity many do not get. However it is bittersweet. With old age comes many hardships. Your health peaks and you start to slow down. You are more frail and subject to unbalance and falls. You are more vulnerable towards cancers and other diseases. Does this diminish a persons 'fullness' of said life if they are subject to one of these evils? Sometimes growing old is hard and messy. It can take a toll on families and friends. So the goal is to live a long and fufilled life right? What of the end of your life though? What if the end isn't the "way to go out" you had planned. We think our purpose is to be remembered for greatness. What does it look like to change that focus? Maybe... Just maybe, and bear with me here. Maybe it looks like viewing life as a simple instrument. An instrument in the masterpiece of the earth. When we are no longer needed, we are put away. Sometimes we re only needed for 16 years. Others, 94. Just a thought. Life and growing old is hard for me. It's something I have tried to not focus too much on because there isn't a good answer, really. The only conclusion I can draw is it being one more reminder of the brokenness this world possesses. It's poetic almost how beautiful it is to see someone live long to leave a legacy. Yet those who die young also have touched this world. I encourage you in this.

Even if you feel invisible.. Know you are here for a purpose and will not be put away until your job is done. You are not invisible. You are alive and that in itself could be one good reason to keep on breathing. Blessings to all of you today. And Happy Birthday to my big brother, Luke. 

My Very Favorite Thing of All

I have started half a dozen posts in the past month trying to put into writing what was occurring. I would sit down to type and none of it made sense. It was me just babbling on about incoherent thoughts and crisis. Some of them were sad, some happy, some angry. They definitely covered all the stages of grief, which what was happening. I was grieving. I lost my best friend almost two weeks ago. She was 94 years old, sharp as a tack and had enough sass to live on for another 50 years. Margaret Mary Theresea O'day Dahlke. One heck of a name for one heck of a lady. Margaret was my grandmother. Oh but she was so so much for than that. She was my friend. My mentor. My comic relief. My confidant. My biggest fan. My pen pal... We wrote letters. Hundreds of letters to each other the past 6+ years. As soon as I moved away, I was added to her list and she wrote me almost every week. Letters came in the form of newspaper clippings, cards, stickers(so many rooster stickers...vixen), Irish knick-knacks, and even once I received a letter on a roll of toilet paper. I told you, sass for days. It still doesn't seem quite real. I find myself not truly believing I will never again receive one of her letters. I had been mentally bracing myself for this time for the past couple years, knowing it would come eventually. The last letter came a week before her fall. We would sometimes write on cute, fun paper with flowers or bugs on it and always send extra for the other to use at a later time. This time it was lighthouses. It was a short letter, nothing of sustenance. It was still from her, which was all that mattered. I remember the night she died, I went downstairs for bed, opened the letter and took the extra pages out. I sat there and I wrote one final letter. I figured originally it would be full of woes and the pain of losing her and how life would be so dull without her in it. All very true, but that isn't what I wrote. I thanked her. I thanked her for always seeing my ugly corners and loving me more for them. I thanked her for keeping my secrets in all those letters. I thanked her for teaching me about myself in ways only she truly understood since they were inheritances I received from her. I praised God for the time He gave her to me. The words I wrote were joyous ones. And the reality is, I was joyous. Oh, what a beautiful end for her. On this earth, the end was horrifying. She did not die well. What a humble reminder that even to the most faithful of servants, we still remain on a broken and sinful earth. Yet, when I sat there thinking of her and the beautiful place where she is spending her eternity, I smiled. I cried tears of joy and happiness thinking of her seeing her ever loved husband again.... her daughter.... my brother... That my friends, I am jealous of her for. Some of you don't believe in a heaven or a hell or even any sort of afterlife. Here is my peace in that. I am okay looking like a fool at the end of the world if I am wrong about God. I would much rather be a fool and wrong than to live in this world having something as horrifying as my Grandma's fall and death happen and to not feel the endless joy for her afterlife. If we go through this broken, broken world and can somehow find joy and peace in it through the name of God, Im there. Every. Single. Time. So I praised her death and I praise the one whose death saved the world.
Margaret Mary Theresea O'day Dahlke is one of my favorite things. She is my very favorite of all.

                                             June 30th, 1920-October 21st 2014

A Realization

So this was a post I made a few weeks ago and never finished. It has some validity to it even though I am on the 'up' of the pendulum swing. 

"I looked in the mirror this morning and what I saw was a face of woman who was trying to make it to the weekend.

For whatever reason, I was thinking about hardships and all the difficulties people live through in life. You know, one of those intense shower thoughts. I looked at myself and was processing my brother dying when I was eleven. And I didn't recognize that as my story. As me. It was almost as if it's this memorized story I have told over and over again. I know the girl I speak of but that girl doesn't feel like me. I feel different. I am different. Is it just my cynicism towards the harshness of life? Or have I changed so much I don't recognize parts of myself anymore? I don't feel as if this is a crisis.. Should it be? It surprised me.  I want to be able to recognize myself, see where I ve grown but not lose who I was. But why? Am I holding back because I don't want to lose the part that knew Luke? If Luke hadn't died when I was eleven, would I want to keep that girl inside a little longer? Or is this what it feels like to unload all the baggage I ve kept for 12+ years? That could be it... It was heavy. An deep and darker than I ever imagined. I know now that I ll keep digging and find other corners of the unknown but for now, I am ok with the purging I ve done thus far. The stranger I saw this morning was me. Just a 40year old version of myself in a 23year olds face. I was frustrated with something the other day and my sister in law just laughed at me, saying, "I think everyone your age struggles with this, you re just frustrated because you re 40 wondering why you re acting like a 23 yr old." So sweet. I have to go through the works to be the works. 

I think telling myself that my inside is a 40 year old woman makes me feel like I am past the hard but all that shows me is that I still haven't got it through my brain. The "it" I refer to is that thinking that if one or two events happen, it will solve multiple issues. I.e. If I just find my husband, I won't feel lonely. If I read my bible more, I'll be more disciplined. 

The extremes of a one answer fix. It doesn't work. You never "arrive." And if you have, it's either at the golden gate or the fiery one. Life is the process of struggle and obedience. Regardless of what and how we learn here on earth, we re here to grow. And grown I have. In so many unbelievable ways."

What If...

So I am sitting here at my favorite spot in my favorite neighborhood of Omaha being serenaded by the sounds of jazz. There is this guy next to me designing some holiday calenders for the 402 which is a recording studio upstairs. He is so creative and just free lancing some sketches and ideas. All of a sudden I began thinking...what if?... Whaaaaaat if? What if I was to do something else other than be a nanny? What if I wanted to design? Or party plan? Or do something in fashion? What if I did something else? I love pretty things. I love industrial looks and patterns. Flowers and words and unique designs intrigue me. My Grandma passed away last week. She and I have hand written letters back and forth nearly every week for the past 6 years. The last year I have started collecting cards to try and keep up with her by always having one with me to send out a quick note here and there. This weekend in KC I found a group of cards by a company called  Rifle Paper Co. (Check them out!!). Their prints are so beautiful and fun. As I was on their site, I kept thinking...What if? What if? Its such a new thought for me. I'm not unhappy in my career but I do have a desire to create. A desire to make pretty things. I don't know...What if..? I just don't know what that means or how to even begin something like that. I will admit the 'what if' gets waaaaay bigger because I reaaaaally don't want to get a college degree in something to be creative. I want to just create. Hmmm.... What if...?

Summer Recap

At some point, I think everyone has that "summer of weddings" when they attend a couple weddings. Well for me this was my summer. And by a couple, it was 4. Four couples that is. Four weddings in four consecutive weeks. It was somewhat of a whirlwind. I am still processing everything I was a part of and how it was kind of a summer of my life. I closed many chapters in those 4 weeks... Let's start week one off with a bang. 4th of July weekend, State College, Pennsylvania. My brother, Gabe married Liz. It was a great weekend overall. All 9 kids were in one spot for more than 24 hours for the first time in probably a decade. And it was awesome. They are great. Every single one of them. Special moments and lasting memories.

 

Why? Because we are patriotic. 'Merica!

We clean up pretty great, in my humble, biased opinion. Not too shabby. It was so wonderful seeing everyone there. I was sad Luke wasn't there. It still felt like we weren't all there. I felt myself waiting for him to pop up from behind Dan or he and Isaac to be debating something. I guess it was somewhat of a relief to feel like his absence doesn't go away.
P.S. My parents are incredible people. My mom is just stunning, you guys. Absolutely stunning. She radiates her inside self even more so since she let her hair go grey and embraced this stage of her life. And man, my daddy looks good with a beard. :)

Wedding 2. Hebron, Nebraska (town we were living in when Luke died)
Alyssa&Eric

 

Alyssa and I lived about a mile from each other and her brother, Dan and my brother, Luke were buds. They both had little sisters so decided to tell us we needed to all be friends. So we did. It was a pleasure to be in Alyssa's wedding. I saw many people from my past I haven't seen in about 12 years and it was great to have more closure from that chapter of my life. Plus, Alyssa is full of life and love so it was a great, fun, bright wedding.

Wedding #3, Concordia, Missouri

Ashely and Adam

 

This lovely shot is from the hometown wedding. Ashley and Adam were classmates of mine from high school. This was a beautiful wedding through and through. They have been together for 9 years, so to be a part of their special love was truly a treat. It was in my hometown so I got to catch up with some old chums, so that was nice. It also made me realize, I am okay with my life in Omaha and I couldn't wait to get back to it. 

And to round it all up. One of the most fun weddings I have been to in a LONNNG time! Partially because I was just able to be a guest but also because it was seriously just that much fun. Lawrence, Kansas - Nathan & Sammi

Nathan is my sister in law, Erin's brother. I grew up knowing the Tietz's so it was great to celebrate them with the next best thing to my own family.  That is my niece, Phalen sticking her finger in their wedding cake. She had been telling them all summer that she was going to, so in the end, Success!! 

And so it came to pass that I survived all my weddings and somehow managed to live to see another day.

Desiring God

So it has come to my attention that as Christians we should go through a process of desiring God. (What a thought huh?) A process of wanting Him in our lives and for Him to work for us and through us. Pause. Hop on struggle bus and slide up to the driver seat. That is where you will find me. Driving the whole thing around. Desiring God. I feel like I do desire God and I want His plan for my life to be played out. Right? That is what I want.
I recently told a friend of mine struggling with keeping Christ as her focus to continue to pursue Christ and He will give her the desires of her heart. How is it that I can give such advise to everyone else but struggle so much with such things myself? Firstly, what ARE the desires of my heart? What do I actually want Christ to do for me and work in my life? I am so good about just blindly following Christ(which in a way is what He tells us to do). I let cynicism take root to where I am just indifferent to most any and everything because hey! God's got this. Then I get frustrated and go on tangents of passionate Christ following and discipline. Where and how can I find a way to balance that out? Oh right, by digging deep in to Scripture. I know this. I know that is what I need to do, but here is the thing. I AM NOT DOING IT! I know I know I know I know I know I know I know I know!!! I know what I need to do but what and why am I not doing it??????? I keep asking myself, what's missing? What is it? What is it going to take until I have been humbled enough, pride stripped enough to totally let go and let God have control of my life. I know I don't always give it up to Him. I know I put a lot of my eggs into the baskets of those I see and can speak to here on earth and don't rely on Christ but the people He has put in my life. At first, I saw this as an incredible gift God put people in to my life to show me how much He loves me. And yes, it IS a glorious gift. However, He loves me more than that. He loves me through Himself alone. Which should satisfy me. That should be enough. It is enough, yet why do I hold back? Why do I hesitate? What am I so afraid of? Am I afraid giving Him total control of my life means He may let me get hurt again? That He might let someone else I love die because they no longer are needed on this earth? I think maybe. I think I might be scared of that. What if something comes out of left field  I am not prepared for? What if something comes and blindsides me again and I can't take it. What if I totally crumbled and can't get back up? How can I think I serve a God who couldn't pull me back up? That all these wonderful people He put in my life won't raise me up and support me when I decide to let Him have my life. I do believe that. I want to believe that. I am just scared. I am scared and I am a coward. I am Peter who doubts and I am sinking in the water. I see His hand outreached and I need to take it, letting Jesus have control of my sink or swim life.
Lord, I need you. I need you to help me give it all to you. Truly all of it. I want you to have it all. Be my all and my everything. I struggle with having the control. Being prepared and ready for when life gives me heartache is a wall I put up long ago when I was mad at you and I told myself I let it fall, but I don't think I did. Forgive me for this shortcoming. Take me and mold me in to your servant, Lord. I want to desire you and have the desires of my heart be those that glorify you.