everyday bites
rocks hurt
they poke
they prod
rocks tear
tender skin
revealing tissue, muscle
life
my skin is shredded
by precancerous polyps
by bear’s stutter
by the word WAIT
rocks make me
jump skip leap
from fear to fear to fear
EACH TIME
landing on a jagged edge
i hate rocks
i beg for relief
i beg for comfort
i beg God
STANDING FIRM
on the rocks
i wait for HIM
by a broken homeskillet
i had a great run this saturday! i completed 4 miles without stopping.
HOLLA!
before i get to the juicy details– i have to give a shout out to a few new peeps that joined our ranks– there are now 7 bottoms bouncing in front of me instead of 4!
surprise, surprise– we gained a fella. i think he’s brave to be around sweaty, tired women– voluntarily.
to give him mad props– i think i’ll dub him “the ladies man” (i will use my best tim meadows voice to add “flava”). i’m sure he’ll be completely fine with this.
okay. down to business.
first off– i thought we were running 7 miles– so i got all “mentally prepared” for a beat-down. IMAGINE my dizzy excitement when i realized i was only required to move my feet in a forward motion for 4 miles! WOOT WOOT.
i honestly had no idea until i saw my homeskillets heading TOWARD me after they hit the 2 mile mark, turned around, and encouraged me with words like, “keep going! you’re almost half-way there!”
i was running a 5 minute pace behind my ‘skillets and not able to form words. i was concentrating on more important, life-saving skills– like breathing and staying in an up-right position.
my first thought was, “i am REALLY movin’ snail-style– they are TOTALLY faster than me.” but, my second thought was much less wahm-bulance material– when i realized i only had to run to the 2 mile marker.
i was all, “OH YEAH, I CAN DO THIS! I’M NOT EVEN GONNA WALK! WALKING IS FOR WIMPS!”
seriously, my runner-brain can turn on a dime. i think it’s the heavy-breathing and smell of sweat that makes me a little not right.
OH! and, speaking of “not right”– we went to a new trail head this weekend which provided me with new scenery and a new character to profile. both were life changing and made me realize just how lucky i am to be alive.
so. we set off on a new path. and i’m thinking, “new is good. new is fresh. new will keep me less focused on the possible pain. this. will. be. great.”— that thought lasted for about a minute and 48 seconds.
that’s the moment we had to run UNDER an overpass.
let me paint a picture of the scariest place i could ever find myself– long, narrow tunnel. shifty lighting. perfect 90 degree drop-off– into a creek on one side and DRAINAGE HOLES IN THE WALL on the other.
if my active imagination (and my interpretation of stephen king) is correct– this is an IT dwelling place.
that’s right– i had to RUN through an IT tunnel.
thankfully, i was still in the middle of the pack at this time– and, i’m not ashamed to admit i made sure there was a skillet on each side of me to buffer an IT attack. (and, by the by– NO ONE seemed aware they were in mortal danger– which just increased my anxiety)
i made it out of the tunnel. alive by the skin of my teeth. my ‘skillets pushed past me (darn gradual incline gets me every time) and ran ahead– leaving me to count my lucky stars all by my lonesome.
that’s when i encounter the shiftiest dude on the planet.
I can only describe this guy as a walking sketch-artist-rendering of a “mid-twenties, white male that has been spotted in the area and wanted for questioning.”
seriously.
dude was wearing a mesh trucker hat covering every speck of hair follicle he had, mirrored sunglasses, a cheesy ‘stache that looked like a 7th grader had grown it, and (here’s the kicker) a short-sleeved button-down shirt.
as soon as i passed him i started scoping the area for a kidnapper van. THEN i started thinking– i’m the weakest link! he’ll come after me for sure!
i didn’t calm down until an asian man passed me heading in the direction of the weird perp (thoughts of mr. miyagi and jackie chan popped into my head– and i figured he’d take that freak OUT if need be).
after two brushes with death– in less than an hour– i ran to the 2 mile marker without stopping.
HOLLA!
turned around.
and made it back to the tunnel of death– by myself this time. i HAD to go in. i HAD to run through it. i totally DID’T want to– especially when i realized there was no ‘skillet sandwich to save me. i approached the mouth of the scariest place on earth, and suddenly became super-duper flo jo— up in the murf! everything got blurry.
that’s the fastest i’ve EVER run in my life.
i achieved a huge personal best this weekend– 4 miles without stopping.
HOLLA!
the achievement was nice, but after picturing my demise–
not once. not twice. but, three times.
i just feel really lucky to be here.
i have cerebral palsy.
it’s a fact i’ve lived with all my life.
i’ve never wanted cerebral palsy to define me, and i’ve work really hard to not let it be the what that makes me who i am. but, last week i made a woman REALLY, REALLY happy BECAUSE of the what.
i was at the ymca with my killer-fit ‘skillet and had just finished her treadmill class (by “finished” i mean i hung on to the panic bars for dear life a total of 27. 5 minutes of a 30 minute run).
so. i was nursing blisters on my right “baby” foot (as i call it) and was explaining how i battle blisters all the time because i have cerebral palsy and can’t flex my right foot– when this complete stranger looks at me SOOOOO happy and says, “AWWWWW, can i give you a hug??!!”
i thought okay— if the lack of flex feels like a “hug moment” for you– we can hug it out.
after the hug– this young mom explained she has an 8-year-old son with mild cerebral palsy and she’s never met anyone like him. she’s been around families and children with more severe cases, but no one like her little boy. in that moment we connected. i understood. we talked about how the word “disabled” wasn’t in our vocabulary, how he/i could do anything we wanted.
this is not how i’ve always felt inside. there have been moments in my life i’ve been deeply wounded by people who have seen, pointed out, and judged me only by my physical limitations. each time it happened i vowed to work harder to hide the thing that made me different.
but, after experiencing the joy and love of this stranger– i began to wonder how much i had grieved the Lord all these years by avoiding, covering up, or ignoring how special He made me.
i used to call it “my cerebral palsy”– like i was the ONLY ONE on the planet made differently (i’m sooooooo self-centered like that). when i was young(er) i held on to the cerebral palsy and pushed it away all at the same time. i’d think about how i was going to enter a room, hold things, and function as normally as possible in each situation BEFORE i was actually in it– to overcompensate or distract from my physical differences. this push/pull was exhausting and wreaked havoc on my self-worth and my identity as a whole.
but, i’ve gotten better– SOOOOOO much better.
and what’s made me better, more complete, is seeing myself through my God goggles.
my God goggles allow me to see Christ in me. i truly believe He lives in me and anything good reflected in me or through me comes from Him. slowly and faithfully, God’s love has stopped the tug-of-war in my heart and i can say i love everything God’s blessed me with– even cerebral palsy.
when i look in the mirror– i can say, “i am awesome. i am beautiful. I TOTALLY ROCK.”
because i am saying that about my Lord and what He is accomplishing IN me– through a baby leg, a skinny, un-stretchy arm, and a defective hand.
can i get a great-big-madea, “hallelujer!!”
my whole life i’ve worked really hard to push past my physical limitations and keep my heart on display– NOT cerebral palsy.
but, a sweet, encouraging stranger showed me if i want to see God’s work in me– then for better or worse my whole life (the what included) must be the focus.
God blessed me with this body. and, if i feel it’s anything less than AWESOME– i miss an opportunity to rep for the Lord. holla!!
this week has been a series of tests, and i feel i’m still waiting to see if i passed. i should feel confident, confident, dry and secure– sure– i should. but i don’t. not yet.
my little guy is full of life. he’s loving, happy, silly, and unfocused at times. he has trouble making eye contact and gets easily frustrated when he’s overstimulated. he’s three and big for his age. i’ve been approached by a well meaning individual and encouraged to get thing 2 evaluated. evaluated for what — i have no idea.
(ain’t that a kick in the head, homeskillets?!)
since that awesome encounter– i’ve been on a wild goose chase waiting to hear life-changing news. this journey started a few weeks back– and, the entire time i’ve been dancing the fear-filled cha-cha.
one moment– stepping up — thinking, “let it go! how dare this woman!”– the next moment– stepping back — thinking, “but, what if there’s something that needs attention! i can’t ignore it!”
each and every day i’ve gotten clear, tangible proof my fear is unfounded. but, here i am. still unsettled. still jittery with worry. two tests. two positive, encouraging results. numerous friends lifting us up in prayer and saying they SEE our family and have faith God has made our boy exactly right. exactly who he should be.
so i ask, when is reassurance ENOUGH to move on? how do i stop worrying. i know at this point my fear is a huge insult to God.
( i picture Him with a thick, new york accent– godfather-style— saying things like “you’re breaking my heart, fredo”. “leave the worry, take the cannoli.” )
so, why am i hanging on? why am i not comforted by the fact that my baby boy is a normal 3 year old? because if there’s nothing wrong– if he’s “normal” then maybe my guy is falling short because of me. maybe i haven’t given him all he needs to succeed on his own. maybe my limitations as a mom or my past bad choices have hindered my sweet boy’s present. ouch. every action, choice, thought has a consequence– and, as a parent my stuff affects the innocent babies i’ve been blessed with. ouch.
how do i say, “i’m sorry?” how do i make it right? how do i move forward without worry?
i stop.
i stop trying to move through this alone and confess my fears and doubt.
i pray.
“Lord. i’m scared. i’m afraid i’ve failed my son. i love him so much and i love his sweet heart. i don’t know if i’ve done enough, and i fear he’s missing something because of me. i pray that you’ll give him ears to listen and focus his eyes on what is important, and true. please cover all my missteps with Your grace and keep my feet moving forward– away from fear– towards rest and peace in You.”
clowns are scary. i don’t like them AT ALL.
ronald mcdonald creeps me OUT. his hair is too red, and his smile is too big, and his shoes are DEFINITELY over compensating for something. but, ronnie mcD is really the least of my worries.
there is one clown so scary just thinking about him will give me nightmares. i really shouldn’t be writing this– he’ll probably find out and grab me when i least expect it.
but, i’m a grown-up and i’m gonna keep writing because the clown i’m thinking of– is just a fictional character. he’s not real.
he’s not real.
he’s just a character brought to life by stephen king– i mean he doesn’t even have a name– he’s really just an IT.
this is where i would usually post a picture so we’d ALL be on the same page– but, IT is too scary.
if i put a picture of IT on here– i’d NEVER be able to check this site again.
plus, i love my homeskillets too much to force IT on you. so. now you know– you’ll have to do your own research (and, i warn you– DON’T) if you want to see IT .
with that piece of biz-nezz squared away– i’ll tell you why this book is totally creeptastic– and had me sleeping on my parent’s bedroom floor my senior year of high school. that’s right. SENIOR YEAR. holla.
this book plays on all my childhood fears– a boogie man only children can see. a boogie man that eats children. a boogie man SO POWERFUL — he makes the grown-ups forget he exists — so there’s NO ONE to stop IT except the children he preys upon. scared yet????
I AM!!!!!!!!
thankfully, i have a funny memory about IT — to ease the tension and fear filling my body as i type. this story takes place during my college days. in a small town. out in the middle of no where.
my best homeskillet and i were house sitting for a friend. this house was surrounded by cornfields set waaaaaaaay back off a narrow road. the ‘skillet and i thought it’d be fun to watch scary movies all night long, while in this creepy farmhouse, where no one would find our corpses for days and days– by the 2nd movie we realized– not so smart.
we decided to watch IT— last.
my homeskillet laughed at me for being so scared of a made for tv miniseries starring john ritter (don’t judge– it’s truly terrifying to me).
we went to bed.
i slept with one eye open– praying that creaky floorboard sounds wouldn’t be the last thing i’d hear before IT gnashed my body to bits.
my sweet ‘skillet slept like a rock. (uhmmm. i vote: total and complete punk behavior).
i made it til morning–but, was totally ready to leave the farmhouse with a quickness. as we were driving back to town– we went over a hill that lead to a T in the road.
and— ON THE STOP SIGN WAS A SINGLE RED BALLOON!
(this is were i insert the fact– IT always shows up with balloons!!!)
ARRRRRGGGGGGGHHH!!!
i’m TOTALLY freaking out. but, i don’t say anything.
because i’m afraid my ‘skillet doesn’t see the balloon and IT is about to eat my face off!!!
so. there we are. not talking. at the stop sign. staring at the balloon.
i finally break and say in a very shaky voice– “do you see the balloon???”
she. starts. laughing!!!
she was afraid i didn’t see the balloon and IT was about to eat her face off!
so. there we are with our faces safely in their places. two dorks. scared of a balloon. all because of IT.
i remember when i was little, my favorite story was The Monster at the End of This Book— starring furry, lovable grover from sesame street. this book was a true walk through a REAL fear– when i was 5. and i admit, i didn’t want to turn the page and get to the end, but i had to. i. just. had. to.
with each new page and the closer i got to the end– the more my heart raced. and there was grover begging me not to do it– begging me to just stop in my tracks. close the book. and move on to safer things. but, that didn’t seem like an option– even at 5– i knew i had to face my fear to get past it.
grover tried reasoning with me– “don’t you see??”, he’d say– with as much patience and calm as he could muster in this frightening situation, “when you turn the page– you get closer to the end of this book– AND, THERE’S A MONSTER AT THE END OF THIS BOOK!!!!” (his little arms flying and his voice rocketing to new, frantic heights).
he tried barring the way with bricks and ropes. he even tried begging.
nothing could stop me– i kept moving forward– i HAD to face this fear.
finally, there was only one page left– grover was not happy– he was down-right scared— and so was i.
but, there was a bigger part of me that just. couldn’t. wait. to see how the story would end…
you gotta get the book to find out for yourselves– this is a must read for homeskillets of any age!!
but, by thinking about this innocent book and how it helped me bravely– and with humor– face down fear, i started thinking about THE WORD and how God wants me to respond when i’m afraid.
what if i faced my grown-up fears with as much excitement as i did when i was 5– looking forward to what the Lord has to teach me.
what if i tackled my problems as quickly i turned those pages– by seeking Him through His word and prayer. and, what if i never let fear become a brick wall or ropes that could tie me down– because NOW i walk by faith in what Christ has done in me.
2 Timothy 1:7 says, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.”
i’m grateful a lovable, furry monster and God have taught me walking away from scary situations only leaves you afraid.
and, I DO NOT HAVE A SPIRIT OF FEAR— i walk with a confident assurance in things i cannot see, and i BELIEVE that’s down-right SUPER— grover.
this homeskillet life 