Showing posts with label Letting Go. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Letting Go. Show all posts

Dear God-Sized Dreamers (+ Book Give-Away)!

I'm working on a blog series about the strengths & struggles of being a "more-sensitive-than-most" Christian woman. I'd LOVE to hear and include your perspective, so I'll be doing some short surveys.  e-mail me if you'd like to be included. Or sign up herehttp://eepurl.com/vVfE1


Dear God-sized Dreamers:


I know what it’s like to dream.

I also know what it’s like to decide that the dream will never ever come true.
  • To think I dreamed too big.
  • To conclude that God must be teaching me humility.
  • To stop trying so the disappointment will quit hurting (...quite so much.)
Cover

I wrote my first book when I was 2 years old!


Okay, so I dictated it to my “publisher” (my mom) and provided the illustrations. But I dreamed, deep down, of someday writing a real book.

During my elementary years, I wrote dozens of stories and “novels.”  During high school, I kept dozens of detailed journals.

When I was 23, I attended my very first writer’s conference.  I returned home and got to work, sending out queries which led to requests which turned into my first published (and paid for!) articles!

Then, life got hard.
  • Jonathon came early.
  • Daniel’s father passed away suddenly.
  • Marriage required more than either of us had to give.
  • Teaching consumed our lives.

I quit writing.


Oh, I still attended occasional writers’ conferences, but all I took with me was the dream that someday, I would write a real book.

No query or one-sheet or business card. I still couldn’t bring myself to write. In fact, I became convinced that I had no right to write.

I knew the truth about me: that I was a lousy mother, a rotten wife, and a terrible teacher. Nobody would ever read what I wrote, even if I did write it down. And even if they did, they would mock me for thinking I had anything worth saying.

Then came the breaking point when I gave up and told God I couldn’t do it any more and offered Him a year to do whatever He wanted with me.

During that year, more than a decade ago, healing began.
  • I started writing again, this time to reflect on what God was teaching me. To record, in permanent ink, His goodness and faithfulness.
  • wrote out my testimony for the very first time, drawing from my high school journals as I shared my inner thoughts as a teenager sinking in the depths of an eating disorder.
  • As my mother’s Alzheimer’s progressed, I began exploring our relationship through poetry.
One year ago, I attended a women’s retreat where I met Andrea Coli, our MC for the weekend, whose book about what improv taught her about God led to my first solo performance.

That solo performance sparked a book title which turned into a book proposal which became a book contract.
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After half my lifetime, my dream of writing a real book is actually coming true!

But the book isn’t the best part.

The best part is looking back and seeing oh-so-clearly that none of the time has been wasted.

That this book would not have been possible 23 years ago...or even 3 years ago.

That God has led, dragged, and carried me through all the challenging years so that I am ready to write this book at this time.

Yes, I know what it’s like to dream.

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And I now know that the book (or whatever your dream happens to be) isn’t the best part of having the dream come true.

The best part is the work God is currently doing-–right now, today, this very minute!–-in your life to ready you for the fulfillment of His dream.

His dream for you and through you.

And when that dream comes true, as wonderful as it may be, the best part will be the God-sized story that comes with it!



This week, I'm giving away a copy of Holley Gerth's new book You're Made for a God-Sized Dream. To enter, simply leave a comment here on the blog!


Your Turn:
  • What dream(s) have you had that have come true?
  • What dreams are you still waiting and working on?
  • What has God taught you in the God-sized dream process?

The Quilt that Letting Go Built



When Jonathon was 7, he was totally into Monopoly. I went on eBay and found a Monopoly clock, Monopoly mug, and then struck the Monopoly motherload: Monopoly fabric!

I bought enough to make a quilt, pillows, and curtains. I signed up for a quilt-making class. I even cut a lot of the fabric into strips. Sewed some of them into T shapes.

And then–-as is so typical for my Sanguine/Expressive personality–-I ran out of steam.

I got bored.

More specifically, I became discouraged by all the attention to detail required. I didn’t want details; I wanted a quilt!

So, I set the project aside. Then bagged it up. Eventually stored it in the garage.

For 10 years.

When I pulled out the box that held the bag that held all that Monopoly fabric in December 2010, my heart took a fantastical leap, and I thought, “I can finish this now…or this summer…or next year!”

But I was under extreme conviction that my habit of “storing stuff” was not good stewardship. Especially since I’d just discovered that a gorgeous cut of camel-and-cream wool/silk blend I’d bought (10 years prior!) to make Daniel a long coat had been ruined by mice.

So I took photos of the Monopoly fabric and posted them on Facebook with the notice:

“Free to good home.”

The parent of a student responded immediately. Not only was she an avid quilter, but her name was Sherry, too!  She offered to take, and promised to use, all my quilting fabric and supplies.

And then–-as is so typical for my Sanguine/Expressive personality–-I forgot all about the fabric. Out of sight, out of mind. I’m an idea gal, a starter, so I was on to new projects.

Two years later, Sherry blessed me with photos of the quilt I started more than a decade ago, and she so lovingly and carefully finished last month:

It looks better than I even imagined!

She’s given it to a family member who was thrilled to receive it and adores having it.

And what a gift she’s given me: confirmation that letting go frees me from my bondage to stuff and frees someone else to enjoy using it.


Your Turn:
  • Have you ever given “stuff” away and discovered what a blessing it was (a) to be rid of it and (b) to know it was blessing someone else?
  • I’ve been slowly letting go of fabric, books, and scrapping supplies. How about you?
  • What’s one area in your home that would be so much easier to clean, organize, and/or live in if you could just remove (and perhaps permanently relocate) some of the “stuff”?


Coming in February!


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Trapped by "the Trappings" {Guest: Katy McKenna}


Katy McKenna is a blogger, writer, and completely inspiring Godly woman I've loved following on Facebook. I’ve gained comfort, strength, and inspiration from reading her reflections on caring for aging and ailing mothers.

After I posted “Stop Buying to Become Someone” on Wednesday, I noticed Katy had launched a conversation on the same basic topic. She’s graciously given me permission to share her insights with you today!  

But first, this hilarious comment Katy added to Wednesday's post:  
Oh, Cheri, you got me good on this one. I have far too many examples to list here. But I'll throw out tennis stuff, since I've already thrown out tennis, hahaha. When I was about 20, three girlfriends and I decided to be a foursome on the tennis court. I had never held a racket in my life, but could just SEE myself in a darling outfit. (I'm partial to having the right outfit to waste the rest of my money in.) I went out and bought a tiny-skirted costume, socks, shoes, racket, balls, and I think a little visor cap, also. And we played tennis! Once. I have never hated an hour more in my life. I knew then that I'd probably always have a tiny problem with "style over substance." And by golly, I have.....


Accumulating “the Trappings”

So on the episode of Hoarders I watched this morning, a 66-year-old man accumulated construction materials and tools and how-to books and magazines for the handyman. He owned several rental properties besides the main house, shared with his wife and adult daughter---neither of whom were hoarders. 

The rental properties, which he'd owned and had intended to remodel and rent out, were filled with his hoard, as was the main house. The properties could have been bringing in $4000 in monthly income, but had never been rented out in DECADES. They were his storage units for the very stuff he could have used to make them profitable.

The psychologist involved in the story said that the man had developed his identity by surrounding himself with the trappings of a carpenter, remodeler, and handyman, but that he wasn't actually DOING those things. In fact, his properties were the worst maintained of anyone's. 


Releasing “the Trappings”

In response to watching this episode, I got rid of umpteen writing books I am not using. (I kept the best ones.) Would I rather surround myself with too much stuff that makes me LOOK like a writer, or actually BE a writer? Substance over trappings, always.

The gathering of the "trappings" can come to completely replace the true goal, and can also deceive you into believing you're achieving the true goal. Hey, I've read all these books--I MUST be a writer! When that can only be determined by actual words on an actual page--MY WORDS.

Owning a treadmill and a recumbent bike doesn't make me someone who exercises, either. It does make me look like I might have exercised, though, and makes me feel good about my potential for exercising. But that's all, besides taking up space.



Downsizing and Moving On 



Downsizing is NOT easy or for the weak-willed! I figure the time is now, not ten years from now when we might be sick or tired or lack resolve. We're chipping away at it so that when the time comes to move out of "the big house," we'll actually be able to.



Move on to creating new things. THIS should be the goal, right? Not collecting or holding onto to stuff that keeps us from creating. 



Closing Comments from Cheri  

Thank you, Katy!!!

For several months, I’ve been thinking, “I should thin out my teaching books.” But I’ve not been able to, and Katy’s words, here, help me understand why: I’ve been holding on to “the Trappings” of being a certain kind of teacher without ever actually becoming that kind of teacher. 

Based on my shelves, I’d need at least 50 consecutive teaching careers to become every single “kind” of teacher I’ve got books telling me how to become! 

Now I realize that it’s time to get rid of the obvious mis-matches -- the books that promote a type of teaching contradictory to who I am -- and keep a select, manageable library of the books that help me maximize my God-given strengths and manage my PURSE-onality weaknesses.


Your Turn:
  • What “Trappings” are you holding on to? What might help you let them go more easily?
  • When have “the Trappings” replaced the original goal for you? 
  • How have you successfully downsized in an area of your life?
  • Anything else on your heart!


Coming in January!


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Dear Teenage Me: Don't Worry that She's not Happy


(We're gearing up for The PURSE-onality Challenge holiday edition"A Holiday-Ready Heart"–in October! Stay tuned for full details...Warm-Up Week starts September 24!)

September 5-23, I'll be blogging through Mary DeMuth's soon-to-be-released book Everything: What you Give and What you Gain to Become Like Jesus. Each week, I'll be giving way a copy of the book. You can enter the drawing via the Rafflecopter at the end of each Everything blog post!

* * * * *

Don't let the smile fool you. I worried about
my "horns" (feathered hair). I worried
about my teeth. I worried about my
thick glasses. I worried about...
"Worry is a weighty monster with poisoned tentacles. It clutches at our minds, steals our breath, our will. It lurks. It pounces. It colors how we perceive the world. 

But God whispers peace in the midst. 

Me? I listen to my frenetic shouting, preferring my self-imposed rants, and I don't hear the Almighty's peace."

Incessant worry and overwhelming anxiety were normal for me growing up. The women in my family modeled this self-perpetuating control cycle, and I learned it well at an early age:

1.  fear the dozens of ways things could go wrong; 
2.  work to exhaustion to prevent them; 
3.  congratulate self when everything turns out fine;
4.  repeat.



In honor of this week's release of Graceful {for young women}Emily Freeman (author of Grace for the Good Girl) has invited bloggers to write letters to their teenage selves

Here is mine:



Early in my eating disorder;
I went on to lose another
20+ pounds.
Oh Sweetheart,

Stop trying so hard.

I know that’s hard to hear. You pride yourself in being a do-er. A hard worker. An achiever.

But you’re trying to achieve the impossible.

Trust me on this one:

Nothing you do will make Mother happy.

Your A+++ grades won’t make her happy.

Your becoming a teacher won’t make her happy.

Your marriage won’t make her happy. (In fact, she’ll be so unhappy that she’ll refuse to participate at all. You’ll plan your wedding all by yourself.)

Your children won’t even make her happy. 

Oh, she’ll enjoy them. And you’ll have a few years during which you’ll feel like you’ve finally earned her approval.

Wearing my mother's dress,
gloves, shoes, and belt.
(The hat was my idea!)
But then they’ll grow past the “cute” stage, become teenagers, and about the time you’re launching your firstborn to college, Mother will start losing her memory.

And then, for the first time in your life, you will see her happy. She will not know you, but she will be happy.

As Daddy and John comfort each other by saying that she’s “the happiest she’s been in 45 years,” it will occur to you that they knew her when she knew them and was still happy. 

You will realize then what you can not suspect right now:  Mother has been depressed for your entire life.

Her unhappiness is not your fault. 

You did not cause it. You can not fix it.

You can not make her happy. No matter what you do. No matter how hard you try. 

I left home shortly after this photo
was taken, but my craving to make
my mother happy followed
right after me.
Nothing you do will make Mother happy.

Stop trying so hard. 

Start seeking refuge. 

Learn now–when you long for the love she can not offer–to run to Him.

Learn now–when you cry for the comfort she can not give–to hide in Him.

Stop trying so hard.

Stop trying.

Stop. 

Be still.

Know Him.

Know that He delights in you;

He always has, and He always will.


In His Delight,



Your 45-year-old self



Your Turn:
  • What worries are at the top of your worry list?
  • What would you say to your teenage self?
  • Anything else on your heart!

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