I am thankful that we are not normal

My heart wants to burst because of our awesomeness! Having the family that we do makes me feel like a kid whenever we get together. Jesus said to come as little children and I think we have that part down. My heart feels safe in this family. Thank you my great God for that!

Cultivate a thankful heart....and repeat

My heart is stuffed this morning to the point of aching. Full to the brim. My life, how be it not perfect, is so so so where I need it to be.
I am thankful for unanswered prayers....
Although, I suppose that is not exactly what I mean because I don't believe for one millisecond that God doesn't answer our prayers... I believe every prayer we lift to Him gets answered in one way or the other. So I suppose, perhaps what I mean is that I am thankful for the prayers of mine that He has answered with a no.
No.
No.
As a child I despised this single syllable. For sure as a teen as well.
We think we know it all.
All wisdom is ours and in the pride and haughtiness of our youth we blast through life with a know-it-all attitude.
"I" know what's best for me!
"I" know what's best for you!
"I" know what's best in this situation as well.
Thank you....my precious Jesus....my patient, so patient friend.....for being the one who stands up to my pride and states matter-of-factly, " NO, you do NOT know what's best Tami!....I do. "
Insert long thankful and contented sigh....
I would've traded what was precious for what is cheap years ago if He had let me have my way. My heart would've given into the confusion and deception if it were not for His love, His bottomless Grace, His Word and His life experience that far surpasses mine....by some eternal number of years that are uncountable.
So here is a thank you note given from my heart to the feet of Jesus.
Me coming boldly to the throne of Grace and saying a simple but not-so-simple....Thank you my Father in Heaven for teaching me that the word no is not a curse nearly as often as it is interpreted as such. I cannot put into words how much your wisdom, that sees through past, present as well as future time, means to me. Thank you from the deepest part of my soul for knowing what is best for me and loving me enough to say no.
I will never stop loving you and serving you, even unto death.
You are my Lord and King.....and best friend.

What color is love?

I don't believe that anyone, except God Himself, could do adequate justice when asked to define love.
I indeed feel confident enough in that statement so as to add that if you can explain love to me in two sentences or less, I'll give you a bazillion dollars!
I belive that few find it, in all it's untainted glory and splendor and those who do, have not enough words in their vocabulary to complete it's description.
What is love?
What does it mean to fall in love?
To fall...
The word "fall", when used in it's usual place, indicates an accidental occurance; something that took the reciever off guard. Completely unexpected! A "What do I do now?" situation.
And, for sure, love CAN be that! It can be an unexpected meeting of someone who, from the get go...from the very first conversation.....you feel like you've known that person for years.... A kindred spirit that crosses your path, most unexpectedly.
And that is for sure a type of "falling in love" in the accidental form.
But the love I am talking about is the love that has the ability to last 65 years.
Those who claim to have truly and deeply found this love, well...they know....KNOW....to the very core of their being that there is nothing accidental about it.
Most emphatically on the contrary, there is undoubtedly something very deliberate about love; not resembling an accident by any stretch of the imagination.
The definition that has been created in my heart through my years of living and loving and learning and losing and loving, consists primarily of these four points:

Love is a commitment.
Love is a decision.
Love is not a wimp.
Love is forever.

Love is a commitment not a feeling. A giving of oneself despite a roller coaster of emotions that might be present, despite wavering feelings and misgivings, no matter what the weather condition is outside, the fashion trends that are stocking the shelves or the circumstances surrounding your relationship. Love never, never, never gives up. Sometimes emotions are a luxury that you cannot afford to spend time on. There will be times when love must do what love. must. do. Simply because it is the right thing to do!

Love is a quality decision. Not a decision that wavers or questions itself. No. Love is a decision of sheer stubborness and determination to plant your feet in the dirt, let the wind push you, let the rain pound against your face and mix with the tears that were already present! No matter if the hail cracks your glasses and cuts at your skin, take the storms as they come and love in spite of it all!

Love is no sissy wimp! Love is not passive, self-conscious or unsure of itself. Love is strength and passion under restaint. Love has a strength that surpasses any other. Love does not get pushed around! Love knows what it wants, knows what is best for the other person, wants God's best for themselves AND for others. Love does not cower in the corner, shaking and nervous of what will happen next....oh no...Love grabs the situation by the horns and bases it's decisions on what would be best for everyone involved! ( Not just based on one person's opinion of what is best.)

Love is and MUST be forever....
Love has no end. The kind of love that an elderly person sitting on a park bench with their spouse of 63 years speaks of is a love that has no end. Love does not give up when feelings are hurt. Love does not give up when opinions are not listened to. It does not go stomping out the door when weight is gained or wrinkles begin to form. If love was only for a season, then it in fact, most emphatically, WAS NOT LOVE. If "love" has a time frame, then I dare say it's an imposter! A phoney! A little bald man dressed up like Minnie Mouse at Disney World! Love....the real love that I am pursuing, seeking after and speaking of....it has no end. It just keeps going and going and going hand in hand with the Energizer Bunny. Love chooses to put on the handcuffs of marriage, if you will, and then...gasp....throw away the key. Leave no back door open a crack because if you do, guess what...you will probably opt to head out that back door when the going gets tough and the heart yells "Uncle!!!" You will FOR SURE give up if you entertain those thoughts....

Love is not easy and may be the hardest goal for you to reach in this lifetime.
Love will hurt and produce snot, sweat and tears on occasion.
Love can be your worst enemy....

and yet....
at times....

Love can be so blissfully, wonderful that it feels as though your heart ate too many Jelly Bellies.
Love is a bond that can save a life and last a lifetime.
Love is gentle, kind and forgiving to a fault.
and love just might...if you don't give up on it and if you nourish it and have patience with it and refuse to quit when the going gets tough...love just might become your dearest and most cherished friend for life until it breathes it's last breathe.

Life with Bebo the Great

He is fabulous....really he is.
Cute, silly, loving, innocent, genuine.
Yes, all of those, to the 27th power. His smile and giggle can bring you from grumpy to grand in 2 seconds flat.
So why is it that raising him, has pushed me past my very limits and then added another shove just to make a point?!
It's not for lack of love that I struggle. I know the problem is me, but how to fix it, I have not figured out.....
He begins the day on "High Frequency" at 6:15am. EVERY morning! (Now, of course, there is the occasional holiday in which we are given the gift of 7am....but that is only a rarely seen treasure.)
Hardly ever does he wake in a sour mood. He is usually silly and happy and fun and loud and happy and silly and AWAKE right from the get go! So this is how my morning began this morning and most mornings and I suppose nothing would be wrong with that if the rest of the family also were that joyful and ready for loud, loud, loudness right out of the gate.
So why do I find myself typing about Bryson during my only time to myself for the past month? I have quiet time while my parents (angels that they are) escorted all three of my darlings to the movies.....and here I am venting.
I just HAD too!
I know that I'm not alone and, in fact, my situation is probably excruciatingly easier than some. I know that my life is good when compared to the hell that some live. But, WOWIE, does my personality LONG for peace and quiet....oh the beauty of uninterrupted silence. Just a little bit more than what I have now. Right?! Now THAT would make things better.
To just bask in my own personal space for a couple hours each morning would be bliss and then I would feel prepared and willing to give love out to the children I have been blessed with.....

But I know myself better than that.

I know that if I had that, that peace and alone time, then I would find some minuscule new hassle that was bothering me, irritating me, threatening my "calm and quiet". I would want to pin point a new scab that needed picking.
The quiet time would become too much, the peace would be deafening and then loneliness would creep up soon after.
What does one do with so much quiet time? Who out there is thinking of me while I am basking in the aloneness of alone time? Not to mention the excess sleep would no doubt cause a growth in either waist or butt. Laziness that I have fought against for years would possibly be a little bit more convincing in it's arguments if I had no reason to get out of bed so expediently each and every morning and 6:15ish a.m.

Life would indeed be MUCH less worth living....

So what does one do when faced with "Bebo the Great" invading one's personal bubble of happiness? When my personality longs to read and think and write and listen to beautiful works of music and relish in relationships that challenge my intellect and conversation skills....what do I do when sweet, long-lashed Bebo comes bounding onto the bed and rips me from the warmth of night's sleep? How does sanity stay with me when he just won't sit still and keeps hopping, jumping, bothering, wiggling, and bugging his siblings? When he is not "defying" me but is simply just "annoying" me, what do I do?

I must love.
and love.
and love again.

And when I have no more love to give, I shed a tear and ask God to please....please...give me just a bit more for today. God help me make it through this next meal, this next jumping attack, this next moment of hyperness that creeps up out of nowhere. God help me to know what's best in every situation so as not to crush his spirit, but indeed correct his actions!

Because Bryson is, inherently, a good boy.
He tries so very hard to please his parents!
He tries to remember the rules but forgets them 2 seconds later and then must accept the consequence.
Bebo has a good heart and I do not want to be the one to squash that little heart just because he is ever.SO.exhausting most days.
This to shall pass....and until it does....
I will find joy in the small things.

*His stories which he tells with all the proper voice inflections, so that it draws you into his world of alligators and forests and spiders that bite the toes of little boys.
*His polite correction that he offers to me when I did indeed give him a kiss before bed but not a hug as well.
*How he rubs his mattress while falling asleep and has, ever since before he expressed himself with words.
*When he turns down another scoop of ice cream because he can't have too much sugar, he states, "it makes him crazy".
*And how, when I have reached my very limit and my head can't take anymore loud silliness and in-my-face fun, he obediently completes the task of running around the outside of the house 4 times to "get rid of some energy!". =D
He is a good boy and I just need to keep my cool, accept encouragement when it is offered and never, never, never stop loving him.
(But correcting him is definitely in the cards DAILY!) =D O.M.G.

Enduring the fire.

Fire.
Useful, painful, dangerous, life-threatening, life giving.
A refiner's fire. Useful.
Heating the precious metals until all imperfections and impurities rise to the surface for all to see. Bubbling there unable to stay hidden.
If left, they will continue to choke out the beauty that is awaiting inside the liquid gold.
Being a parent is the equivalent to being thrown into a refiner's fire.....day after day after every single day.
Behaviors that I never would have imagined, were lurking down in the deep, darkness of my soul.
They begin to bubble up when put to the test of parenting.
Selfishness, greed, impatience. The list seems to never end.
When provoked with "Mom....Mom?....MOM!!?!!?!" even Mother Theresa herself might allow a sigh to escape her lips. With a glance of annoyance she would utter, "Masses of poor, cold and hungry children....might you give Mother just a moments peace?! For the sake of all that is Holy?!"
Parenthood is a great and powerful tool. It has the ability to transform multiple souls. Continually.... Day after day after every single day.
I am not the woman I was 13 years ago, not the woman I was last month, not the woman I was yesterday.
I will choose to protect the hearts of those that I have been given. Protect them from evil that may creep in, protect them from harsh words spoken, protect them from myself and everyday anger and frustration.
I WILL NOT let myself go. I desire to hold myself to a higher standard. I will give of myself with every breath. Life is not meant to be horded up like the last piece of birthday cake that you do not wish to share.
It is meant to be poured out for others breath by breath.
Just like the mother that everyone dreams about....always ready with a plateful of warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies and a listening ear. A safe haven to come to. Curl up and enjoy home.
Just like sitting on the lap of Jesus.
Accepted for who you are. Never a harsh word spoken. No condemnation. Grace oozing out every pore.
I wish to be refined day after day after everyday.
Thank you God that I am a mom.
Transformed.

Super Human Strength: I've got it!

My hopes were nearly dashed this weekend by a foe I had yet to meet. He crept up when I least expected any adversity to be standing in my way, and he was not one of the usual suspects. I am quite used to "a spill on the shirt as you are walking out the door" and "overdue fines at the library". We have met each other often. My new little friend, however, waltzed into my life when I was leaving to go to a fondue lunch at our friends' home....and this annoyance absolutely made my day in the end.
I was so excited because I had never used my happy little fondue set that I have owned for...well, to not make me sound like the horrible procrastinator that I am, let's just say a while. So while preparing for her maiden voyage I had me some excitement threatening to spill out my nostrils. I really was happy for the opportunity to dip the bread in the cheese using my very own fondue set. So I pulled all the pieces out and oh the horror....two of my matching fondue-holder-cup-things (using their official scientific name) were stuck together.
Now when I say stuck together, I am using too mild of a term for what they were doing. They were locked in a passionate embrace as if one had been at war for the past 3 years. They, for all intensive purposes, had almost, somehow become physically fused together. Of course me being the independent, prideful woman that I am, I wanted to take care of this on my own accord. I put on my sassy-pants and pulled....then tugged...then jerked....then while breaking a sweat, pulled again. I have never been strong physically. My hands, as Jason knows well, are puny when it comes to opening jars and the likes but in this case I was giving it everything down to my toes!
Taylor, after enjoying the show for 5 minutes thus far, suggests we use soap because as she learned in 6th grade science this year, "soap makes water wetter". Light bulb! Science is indeed helpful in everyday life yet again. Grabbing my trusty antibacterial liquid goo, I slather and slide my fingers all over the bowls and wiggle and tap and turn....and NOTHING! FOR THE LOVE! I really do like this fondue set and it is so fabulous with 6 matching bowls of festiveness and I would like to emerge out of this match with all 6 still intact!!!
My lightening fast brain soon meanders to the idea that if we could wedge something sharp and unsafe in between the 2 bowls we might have a fighting chance to break this seal of eternity that has taken a hold of my day. Insert sharp instrument....literally.
No go.
Nothin' doing.
Why?! Why!!!
Is this punishment for my tendency to procrastinate? Is there a life lesson that I am supposed to get out of this now 10 minutes of science vs. man hands?
Oooooo, the voice of Jason that always is residing in my head speaks up. "Run it under hot water". That is his usual response if he is unavailable and I lack the strength to open the pickles. So, under the spout it goes and stays. Ouch, hot! But, I don't give up! I want to conquer this! I am stubborn! I am woman, hear me grunt and sputter and observe as I get angry at an inanimate object.
Sigh.
This is not working.....
I bang it on a towel on the counter hoping that it won't break because it is my beautiful, brand ing new, wonderful pile of fondue utensils. But the banging is unprofitable and I give up....in my own strength that is.
What comes next, is the icing on my really ugly, pretend cake that had made a mess of my previous 15 minutes!
I pray.
But not a "normal" prayer. Not a holier-than-thou, belongs in St. Paul's Cathedral, prayer. Oh no!! I was being "real"! A comical, half-joking but in my heart of heart's quite sincere, last result prayer.
I glance at Taylor with a smile on my lips and a sigh escaping in between.
"Father God, you KNOW that this is a heart's desire of mine. (To not break my pretty little party set.) So please give me....Super Human Strength. In the name of Jesus."
Not kidding in the least. Those were my exact words and I didn't even make it through the prayer. I lost it as I was saying "strength". I mean, do you blame me?! I just asked God for Super Human Strength for the sake of Pete! So I guffawed at the end of my sentence to God. Is that o.k.?! Darn-tootin' it's o.k.!
And Taylor and I giggled again, and then I pulled...AGAIN....
and I am as serious as a tax audit when I say that the very next pull
they came apart....
They came apart!!!
Taylor and myself laughed and flipped out as if we had won an elephant for a day! We giggled until our tummies ached from all the joy and I thanked God while giggling.
The point of the story is God loves so awesomely with a sprinkling of creativity that is never ending.....and I think He likes fondue just as much as I do.

I long for my sisters.
The aching is strengthening with each passing day. My Cherbear and Amista: a better pair cannot be found.... My plans for our European get away, just need a few more thousand dollars into the "Going-to-Europe with my siblings jar"! I can smell the tantalizing delicacies and lower standard of personal hygiene from here. To know that you both have dealt with my bossiness, constant sarcasm for the years of 1993-1996, and have smelled more of my farts than you ever needed too....AND you still choose to stay connected with me?....super hero's you both are!

Mistry- I hope to one day choreograph another Paula Abdul song with you....big sweaters and stretch pants and all!
Shirl- Have we ever discovered what else can make us laugh until we pee our pants except for "blue eyelashes"??!!
I love both of you more than underwear that succeed at being both comfortable AND suggestive!!! xoxoxoxo ~Tamikins~

Here are my peeps from the kindergarten field trip day. I am fully capable to execute the very same immaturity level with convincing accuracy. Here's to you Bryson, Jonathan and Zachary.

Coffee creamer

It's the little things in life that make it worth living.
Coffee creamer, in the spectrum of the universe, is not what most (or any) persons would consider to be important by any stretch of the imagination. It's one of the items in your cart that is a non issue. Either you have creamer....or you don't. No one will be rushed to the emergency room nor will massive amounts of counseling be needed to reverse the effects of missing creamer.
But, oh....it sure made my morning this morning.....
My heart actually jumped. Briefly and almost unnoticeably, but it jumped at the thought of creamer!
Ha! Laugh if you will. Consider me a silly "girl" who is just too emotionally charged for her own good. Too optimistic for this considerably pessimistic world that we reside in perhaps? In spite of the absurdity and insignificance of it all creamer made me happy this morning! It really, truly blessed my heart almost immediately because it was there!
Chocolate Toffee...that is the flavor. It is good. REALLY good! And I had absolutely forgotten that I had thrown it into my cart the other day. It was a side thought really....it hadn't even been on my shopping list....just saw it and thought, "Oooooo that flavor might be quite tasty!" Grabbed it. Dropped it into the cart and BAM!!! All the makings for my "Great Tuesday Morning" were within my grasp! Just by grabbing the tasty creamer....
Who would've thought.
Who would've thought that God could use creamer? I suppose I did, deep down in my soul. He IS God, you know.
And I love Him.....
I passionately love how he can use something like creamer, for example, to remind us that happiness must come from within. It isn't the fact that I had this chocolate toffee creamer that made me happy. Goodness no! It was the gentle reminder that the little things in life are what make life so enjoyable....not always the yacht and the condo on the beach. The most important things in life are usually free. (Or in my case, $2.) Happiness is at each of our fingertips. Perched on the end waiting for us to notice, to stop stressing, to breathe in deep the blessings that are EVERYWHERE if we but look.
Thank you God for creamer.
Thank you that I have the money to buy creamer. Thank you for my pink polka-dotted coffee cup that cost $0.25 at a garage sale. Thank you that my taste buds do exactly what you created them to do. Thank you that I have a computer to drink my coffee in front of. Thank you that I have fingers to type and share my thoughts with the people that are most important to me. Thank you for all the people who are most important to me; The people who have given my heart a place to rest on more than one occasion.
Thank you for this morning and my own personal hug that I got from you, in the form of
chocolate
toffee
creamer.

Taylor's trip into the dramatic arts

Oh my dear, dear Taylor. The sweat. The tears. The daily requests, "Mom why can't I quit?!! I loathe this play! It's soooooo boring!" But, you stuck it out. You persevered. You followed through with your commitment and alas..... You LOVED the applause! Drama is a new found addiction. Broadway, she'll be of age soon enough!

In response to "Beautiful".

So my sis thought I was being too down on myself in that last post. But in reality, I wasn't depressed or self-dissing at all. I just was stating random, deep thoughts that I had had in a waiting room the other day. I actually wrote most of that last blog on scratch paper while looking out the window in an office. My thought process began to go in that direction because I was thinking how the office was so blah and bland but just outside the window was...beauty! I apologize if it sounds like I have an incredibly low self-esteem right now.....it's not that. It's just contemplation put down in type.

Beautiful???

Who defines beauty? I demand answers! What is the definition of beauty?! In what culture should I move to where 'I' would be the definition of "beautiful"???
If a definition could or should be settled upon, whose to say some hyper, self-proclaimed intelligent won't scuttle up and stomp that particular definition into an oblivion?!
Where can beauty be found? I myself am ever searching. Ever longing.
All who you'd ask, would agree that it's location is ever changing moment by moment, breath by breath, touch by touch. We, as a race, are continually searching for beauty. Striving to attain beauty. Oh to arrive but only for a moment....but the moment is always fleeting.
For a woman, beauty is an unforgiving master; a slave driver that rides you, always in back of your thoughts. Pushing. Nudging. "Do more! You're so close. Just a bit farther. THEN you will be beautiful. More beautiful than....."
Go ahead! Fill in the ..... with whomever you choose. Women are notorious for being able to glance around a room and unconsciously see who might be more/less attractive than they are. Why do we do that? A waste of time, it is. For the open-and-shut truth is, there is NO arriving at "beautiful". There will always be a falling short, an 'almost made it', a 'you're so close but look at her'. There will always be someone prettier, more intelligent, more chiseled abs, smaller feet, bigger melons, longer hair, shorter hair, wittier, better in the kitchen, better in the bedroom! OH MY GOSH! Seriously?! When does it end?
How about this? I, for example, am not beautiful by this world's standards by any means. To be blunt, for starters, I just don't have enough chest to fill that position. When asked in a pole, "Name a beautiful woman.", I guarantee that 99.99% of people would NOT say my name. I'm not down on myself, just realistic.
So why am I not beautiful enough? Why, in a line up of suitable women, would most men pass me over? Oh! May I present the list to answer that?:
I'm chubby, gray haired, wrinkled, dry skinned, dry scalped, dry knee-ed (is that even a word?), stretch marked, thin haired, bad breathed, ogre-like resemblance in the morning, etc., etc, etc.
There it is!
The cold-hard facts.
A nice sterile list.
Impersonal, but true.
Insulting, but true.
Cruel and unfeeling, but true.
Not in any way does this list define 'beautiful'.
Nor does it 'define me'.
These physical flaws do...not...define me.
They also don't disqualify me for the 'beautiful' award!
However, some may disagree and I pity them.
I truly pity them simply because they are still in need of a bit of growing-up, another handful of life experiences to be thrown ever-so-abruptly into their faces. Life is notoriously efficient at changing your definition of 'beautiful' at every turn! This world's definition of beauty? It is fleeting. Temporary. Ephemeral.
Case in point. Is a woman no longer beautiful after her stomach has been stretched during her pregnancy? Has her beauty, or dare I say her exciting appeal, been left behind once she loses a leg suddenly? Gray hairs and saggy wrinkles, for sure, disqualify her for a pin-up photo shoot? But....is she....can she....still be beautiful, desired, enticing, magnetic, alluring, magnifique?
Beauty is temporary.
It is ever changing. Can be found in every moment in which you turn your neck and choose to notice the divine.
Beauty is in a young couple's wedding night. Beauty is in a book on a coffee table. Beauty is a flower petal on a lake. Dirty little finger prints on the wall. A baby's first smile. A wheel chair on a basketball court. In a Children's Hospital Cancer Ward's play room. An 83 year-old woman kneeling over the grave of her husband of 60 and 3/4 years. A kind word spoken to a wounded heart.
Beautiful is undefinable. Beautiful is never constant.
Beautiful is there, if you but look for it.

Papa you are missed

I wish to honor my Papa.
I would love to write with such eloquence and brilliant word pictures, that it would cause your mind's eye to truly understand what this man meant to me. But the reality is, that there aren't words sufficient enough to express my Papa's true value to you. To elaborate on a feeling of the heart using mere words, no matter how strong said feeling might be, is like trying to explain the taste of ice cream to someone who can't taste....It simply is inadequate.
So I will quietly say this.
My Papa was a rock.
An amazing rock.
A rock that had many layers; faithfulness, strength, courage, humility, patience, respect, honor, compassion, dignity, diligence, honesty.
And just like when a rock is hurled onto the smooth surface of a lake, and that tiny, seemingly insignificant object immediately transforms the entire texture of an immense surface area?
Well,
THAT is the persuasion of legacy that my Papa has left.
The ripples that are still radiating, caused by my Papa's life will be seen and felt for decades to come.
I will love you forever my dear Papa.
You ran your race well....

Strive to not forget

Must not forget the crippled old man, hobling along my neighborhood street.
Must not forget the widow who's gray, gray in heart and head.
Must not forget the armless , her heart seems strong but not by far.
Must not forget those on the ground when I am in my bed.

Must not forget the mom worn out, no help from husband when needed most.
Must not forget the broken man, can't seem to get it right.
Must not forget the boy, grown-up too fast when daddy never came back.
Must not forget that I've been blessed much to my heart's delight.

~me~

The Little Boy and the Old Man

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.

~Shel Silverstein~

To be a friend

Oh to be a friend.....
"Best friend, my well-spring in the wilderness." [G. Eliot]
A friend, by definition, is: a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard; a person who gives assistance; a patron; supporter; a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile.
My heart longs to be a friend.
Is that my calling in life? I wonder. The next opportunity that presents itself in which I am able to say what I would like to be when I grow up, I think I gladly will answer..."A friend".
Why does my heart ache to be a friend?
To save a life, hold a heart, heal a wound? Be a friend.
A friend can scoop you up out of the dung heap of life, scrape off the turds that are clinging onto you with all their might, hose you off, and sit you down at an elegant table of "grandeur".
A friend can hand you back your nobility after some villain has stripped you of it, leaving you standing unclothed and shivering imagining that you would never fully recover from that near blow.

There truly is not one thing as wondrous as basking in the calm space of an old friendship.

It wraps you in it's warm embrace. Snuggling in the familiarity of the moment, your heart opens up within the safety of unconditional love. Moments such as these are remarkable! They can't be forced nor recreated, but when they pop up within the monotony of a typical day or week, they shimmer like a sparkling ruby in a bowl of sand.
And so we must scoop up those treasures, hold them, caress them, enjoy them for however long they last. A minute? An hour? It matters not! It's quite simply the connection of two hearts that is the purpose not the time length of connection.
During these wee specks on the time line of your life: a closet can be transformed into a magnificent dining room; a maid can be brought up a notch on the hierarchy of society; a cookie with milk evolves into a feast.
How?
The eyes between your ears close and the lids on your heart's baby blues flicker open.
The second that happens, when the eyes of your heart open, you see through the eyes of God. No longer do outfits and make-up matter. Gone are the surroundings of the room in which you sit. So long job titles. Spirit to spirit friendship transcends this temporal world and it's inside of that type of exchange where a real friend has the power to change a life....forever.
That is why when I grow-up, I want to be a friend.
Oh how I wish all of my friendships could last forever! I truly do long and ache at times to stay in fellowship with each and every individual that my heart has fallen in love with. I despise feeling disconnected for too long from my familia and bosom buddies. In all honesty it just makes me feel....sort of....yucky....
However, the sheer impossibility of keeping in constant contact with all whom my heart has adopted is a dilemma that has no solution. Time cannot be reproduced and distance cannot be shortened.
So my plan? I shall hold to the delightful, pulchritudinous fact that eternity is an extremely long time, rumor has it that heaven is quite immense and I fully intend on having some wonderfully lengthy conversations with each and every person that I hold dearly in my heart once I get there.
Till that day is upon me I shall continue on with my heart's true ambition.
I will be a friend.

The Fear of Not Pleasing People

Yes, o.k., I admit it! I had this problem....well maybe....truthfully.... still might currently have an eensie, tiny version of this problem. It might not be entirely in the past tense. Although, at the time of writing this, it no longer has the strangulation hold on me that it used to.
This problem...Nay, this sickness really! This sickness had been my constant companion for an upwards of 20 years I suspect. A leech that had attached itself to me, sucking the life out of me and feeding off my very soul. An unwanted and mostly invisible associate.
When did it first latch onto me? Well, I cannot say....
It's not that I don't wish to say or that it would be too embarrassing of a memory to share. The fact is I literally cannot remember. For the life of me. It has just, always, been.
The need to people please. Not wanting anyone to be angry with me. Wanting everyone...everyone... to like me!
For them to be pleased with my choices.
Pleased with my style, personality, weight, beliefs, etc.
In the past, one of my worst fears would have been to have someone angry at me and not be able to do anything, anything whatsoever, to change their mind. What a wake-up in the middle of the night, white knuckled, drenched in sweat nightmare! I would've desperately NEEDED them to like me! To avoid that rejection, I would've been willing to change myself to attain that favor that I so desperately wanted, craved and feared losing.
So did you catch that? Did you hear me?!
To change myself!!!
I am not meaning to just change my behavior in a certain way. Nor do I mean changing the way I reacted to something.
No. My meaning is that I allowed myself to buy into the lie (because that is what it was) that it was actually possible to change who I was, deep down in my soul.
The person that God Himself created me to be.

The person that He meant.....when He meant "Me".
Tami.

To attempt to change oneself, in many ways, can be immensely beneficial! Wouldn't you agree? To improve on what was originally good, is....well....good! To strive to exercise more, eat healthier, expand your knowledge in a certain area? These are all 'improvements'; A bettering of the original, if you will. But just because there may be a need for a few minor improvements doesn't mean that the "original" wasn't good! Do you follow?
To think that any of us would need to become a different person, just to fit into someone else's definition of "Me" is a end road; A trail that will always lead to a broken heart.
I suppose that statement seems a bit overly dramatic. "A broken heart." Tami, really? Isn't that over doing it? Oh, but don't you see? If a person truly believes that their "original" wasn't good enough, then their heart has already BEEN broken! Somewhere....someone convinced them that they, at the very core of their soul, wasn't good enough. That they originally were defective in some way.
And at that very moment.....The moment when that wound was inflicted....That is when their heart broke.
And that particular sort of wound can only be healed by one source.
Your designer. Your inventor. Or should I say "The Maker"
When will we get it?!! There are no defective originals out there! If you love a particular type of food, but everyone in your family and possibly everyone on your entire block despises it? Chow down!
What about that crazy, funky pair of reading glasses that people have jabbed at you about? Sport them proudly in public!
Make people stare by occasionally acting a bit too silly at work!
I speak the truth, the world needs more of "You"!
So give it to them. Force it down their throats if need be.
If we were all cookie cutter clones, the imbalance of the world would have been it's own destruction ages and ages ago. There is a desperate need for the "You's" and the "Me's" out there! We cannot give in! Do you hear me?! We must not be assimilated.
Be true to yourself.
Embrace those nuances that make you unique.
Rage against the machine.
Fight against that mocker of originality!
The fear of not pleasing people.
( And if, by chance, you get a few frowns from passers by, then smile....they probably needed a good, healthy dose of originality. )