Color-Coded Life

My poor dear husband. It's kind of scary to start a blog like that, but in this instance, it's really true. I've always been an organizational freak, but with four kids, their friends, four dogs, and life going on around me ... well, it was usually just a dream to be able to color-code everything. I HAVE always organized my closet ... and I like nice drawers where everything has its place. I alphabetize my spices so I can find them easier. All of my earrings are paired together and put in buttons in my earring box so I don't have to scramble to find a pair -- they're already together! Make-up is organized in the drawer (and I can tell if anyone has been messing around with things in there, which is particularly seen after my little granddaughters come to visit! They love Nammy's chapstick and lip gloss!). There are junk drawers with bins, trays, and organizers so it's not tooooo messy. Kitchen utensils are in pretty crocks so I can find the exact one I'm looking for without digging through a drawer. I even use a different highlighter each year in my Bible so I see what stands out to me this year as opposed to the years before. And oh, life is good.

I love to organize. I love things to be in their proper places. And now that all of the kids have moved out of the house and we're only down to two dogs, I'm organizing more than ever. I'm even moving in to my husband's territory. Poor Wes. I'm attacking his tool boxes and shelves. I'm anxiously scouring his office for ways to put it together better. I'm literally trolling on Pinterest to get different ideas or organizational tips. And again, I say, poor Wes.

He's been with me long enough that he sees that a little bit of organization really IS a good thing. (Plus, when something works out well, it makes me feel like Super Woman!) And he's also been with me long enough that he's patient ... and kind ... and will go along with my ideas. We can be seen wandering through Lowe's or Wal-Mart, looking for more organizational tools. Because we work well together, I'll give my idea to Wes -- and he's the creative genius that makes it happen. Want to keep the phone cord from floating all around the table while you're charging your phone? Install a tiny cup hook on the underside of the table and voila! The cord stays in place. (You can use a binder clip on the side of the table if your phone cord will cooperate.) Instead of sitting on the couch at 8:30 at night being two zombies in front of the television screen, I'm directing and Wes is hanging shelves ... or we're going through tool boxes ... or paint is being slapped on the wall. And you know what?! It's actually fun. (Don't ask Wes because he won't give you that same sentiment. He just loves me and suffers along with me.)

Yes, things are slowly but surely being organized more and more in the Allen household. And, for the record, I'm just following in my Father God's footsteps.

I Corinthians 14:33 God is not a God of confusion but of peace.

I Corinthians 14:40 But all things should be done decently and in order.

And no, those aren't my most favorite verses in God's Word, even though I wholeheartedly agree with them and think they're wonderful. My God is a God of order ... and decency ... and peace. There is much security and comfort for me in that knowledge. He's revealed to me that when I try to organize and put things together, I'm looking for security. I know that seems kind of silly, but if I could seriously color-code my life and the lives of those I love so that it would be organized, orderly, without surprises, and I'd be in control of it, then I'd be one happy camper. God has also revealed to me that I'm not the one who's supposed to be in control (duh!). Instead, I'm to have faith in Him and HIS organization. What might seem like chaos to me is His controlled plan, and I'm to follow along, knowing that His plan is the best for all concerned. I'd like to say that He's also revealed to me that Wes's office and tool boxes are in dire need of my organization, but those are just my own brilliant ideas. Fortunately, the office and tool boxes are more along the speed of things I'm allowed to organize (with God's permission as well as Wes's) ... and I leave lives to Him. Pretty fair trade-off.

I. Hate. Politics.

It's getting to that time of year again. Here goes for another personal confession -- I absolutely, totally, with all that I am, H-A-T-E politics. (Seriously, no exaggeration there!)  I hate getting on Facebook and seeing all of the "commentaries".  I despise the commercials where one candidate bashes another. I hate hearing other people talk about politics because they wind up talking horrible about someone. I loathe the debates that turn in to screaming matches. I can't stand the back-stabbing, the mud-slinging, the lies, the arguing. I seriously hate it all.

When I was venting about this to my laid-back husband, he just shrugged his shoulders and said, "It works." Ugh! You know, THAT'S the very problem! It shouldn't work! Are we numb-brained enough that we can't just take the facts and then figure out what we want from there? We have to have these emotional, attacking arguments to convince us who's right and who's wrong? Maybe I'm incredibly naive, maybe I'm intellectually lacking, but I think I've got enough brains and common sense to realize who I want representing me in political office without all of the horrible rhetorical that comes from BOTH sides.

And it just continues to get worse. Well, that might not be totally true. I have a feeling that it's always been this awful -- even back in the days of our Founding Fathers. From what I understand, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson had their personal differences. Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas weren't the best of buddies. Ever read about the duel between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr? It all stemmed from the smearing in a political campaign. This political nastiness has been going on since the beginning of America unfortunately.

To me, the answer simple. A candidate tells what he believes and how he'd vote. Leave the other candidate out of it. He runs his campaign and leaves the other guy to his. How hard can that be? And, as for me, I'll vote for the man/woman who I believe has the same convictions that I have -- and we'll live happily ever after. Ok, that's where my naivete comes in. We won't live happily ever after because life happens to step in. But we CAN live without tearing other people apart, can't we?

I can't help but think that God is grieved by the way we conduct ourselves. When Jesus walked this earth, I don't see any record of His slamming Herod, Pilate, or the Roman government. And honestly, the Roman Empire wasn't high on the list of moral excellence, but the Bible tells us that God is the one Who establishes the government. He wasn't surprised by what was going on. He had that government in place for His reasons and His purposes. Jesus knew that and wasn't screaming about its shortcomings. No one knew better than He that there were some serious issues -- not only in government, but in the hearts of all men. Jesus didn't turn a blind eye to what was going on. He didn't ignore the issues. But He also didn't belittle those who believed differently than He did. In actuality, He DIED for those people, just as He did for me.

I realize there will be people who won't particularly like this post. Sorry about that! Just my soapbox for the day ...

You Hurt, I Hurt

One thing I've noticed: when you're counseling someone, or just listening to them, if you're really good at what you do, you feel a part of their pain as well. From someone who is highly allergic to pain, this is NOT what I want to learn. If you've read any of my blog posts, you'll have noticed that I like comfort and am pretty averse to pain.

Through the years, I've experienced quite a bit of pain -- usually because of my own dumb choices. Girls that I listen to or share with have heard me say multiple times that I'm one of those "been there, done that" type of people. Unfortunately, that just means that I've been stupid and have suffered the painful consequences because of it. The thing that has amazed me the most, however, is by just listening to someone's heart burden, how God takes me back to a time when I was in a similar situation. And usually this is not full of pleasant feelings.

But it's almost like I NEED to go back to those feelings, to those thoughts, to those experiences so that I can truly empathize and help direct these girls that I'm dealing with. Because God is Who He is, however, He reminds me that I'm NOT that same person that I was ... that I've been forgiven ... that I've forgiven others ... that He's "lifted me out of the miry clay" ... and that every single life experience that I've had, whether it's been beautiful or extremely ugly, can be used to minister to someone else. And it's my heart's desire to pass those same little reminders along to people I care about.

Other lessons that I've learned:

1) You know you've been healed and have forgiven someone when you can think on an incident without anger. Notice I said "think on" ... not "dwell on". This is a time when it's vitally important to take every thought captive because it's easy to fall back in to the trap of bitterness and anger, whether it pertains to someone else or ourselves.

2) Forgiving myself is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Forgiving others can sometimes be really difficult, but forgiving myself is even harder. God reminds me that I don't need to continue"nailing the nails" over and over again. Jesus paid the price ... once for all ... and even though I struggle, I need to forgive myself because He has forgiven me.

3) God is faithful. He DOES create beauty from ashes. He DOES turn ugly situations that I created because of wrong choices into opportunities to witness to and encourage others. Beauty from ashes is a perfect picture of God's grace ...

4) Transparency begets honesty and transparency. When I'm honest and allow people to hear about the person I was, they're more in awe of Who God is ... because He has done (and continues to do) a transforming work in my life. I'm  not who I was. I'm not who I'm going to be. God's in the process! It gives hope to girls who are mired in the same situations I was in to see that there IS "light at the end of the tunnel".

5) Growth is almost always painful. I don't know why, it just is. Maybe because if it hurts, we'll remember it a little bit more. But, see #3. God's faithful to comfort.

Loving other people hurts. That's a fact, and I don't know that it will ever change. However, loving other people THROUGH their hurts and struggles is soooooo rewarding, especially when I can help point them to the One Who heals the pain. All of my circumstances, all of my yesterdays, all of my wrong choices -- all pale in significance in the beauty of what God promises to do today ... what He promises to do for me AND for you!!

Thirty-Two Years and Counting ...

Wes and I just got back from a mini-vacation celebrating our 32 years of marriage. It was wonderful ... and relaxing ... and fun ... and we both were really pouty on the day we got home because we wanted to go back. It's amazing how after all these years of being married that we still find ourselves learning so much about each other.

As an example, Wes learned that I am a huge hotel snob. We stayed in a small motel for the first two nights of our trip. Wes thought it was old, but decently clean. I, on the other hand, commented about how it looked JUST like the Bates Motel in Psycho ... tore up the beds to inspect the mattress and sheets when we first walked in the room ... refused to allow our suitcases to be put on the bed and insisted on putting any of our sleeping clothes into a tightly sealed laundry bag immediately upon getting up. Yes, the motel was old (older than both Wes and I, I'm thinking), was semi-clean (there were spiders and some icky things in the bathroom), but we managed to survive ... particularly when we wound up at an adorable, wonderful, and perfect bed and breakfast for the next two nights.

I learned that my husband honestly and truly hates to have his picture taken. Through the years, we've laughed at how Wes will "smile" for the camera -- meaning he just stares at the camera until the picture is taken. If he actually DOES smile, that's probably an accident and meant for something other than the picture-taking. I also learned that my husband loves me more than he hates to have his picture taken, so he very nicely posed a few times while I had the camera in his face.

Wes learned that I am absolutely and totally indecisive when it comes to choosing a restaurant. For some reason, that's a decision that is beyond my capability. He'd ask me where I'd want to go and I'd almost panic. If he suggested a possible restaurant, I'd be only too quick to agree, but choose a place on my own? Not possible ...

I learned that my husband thinks I'm cute, even when the wind catches my dress and it blows up around my face and I flash my pretty yellow panties to all of the people walking on the street behind me. I also learned how kind he was when he assured me that probably no one even noticed. Yes, it was a big, fat lie, but wasn't he sweet?

It was nice to take the time to just be together -- to see that we still "liked" each other after all of these years of having kids in our house -- to laugh and think we were hysterically funny, even though no one else seemed to quite understand our humor. We've said over the years that we've pretty much done absolutely everything wrong in our relationship, but because of God's grace it's all worked out. Well, God's grace and two hard-headed people who were determined to make the relationship work.

It was a wonderful time, and we're already talking about where we want to go for our next anniversary get-away. Never too early to start planning, right? And as long as we stay in a nice place, I don't have to choose a restaurant, and Wes doesn't have to have his picture taken a gazillion times, we'll be good. Actually, even if those things all DO (or don't) happen, we'll still be good. After 32 years of learning together, there's always something new to discover.

Darkened Room

The one bad thing about having a blog is that I have to watch how honest and transparent I am. If I had  hemorrhoids, people definitely would NOT want to read about that. (And I really don't, by the way.) No one wants to read about a fight that I'm having with my husband ... no one wants to hear about family problems ... no one cares about health issues. Basically, people don't want to hear all of that stuff. However, my life is full of issues that I keep quiet and under wraps, and those are the issues where God is stretching me and teaching me. I need to be sensitive to my family and to my readers so that no one is particularly offended or appalled at what I'm sharing.

My problem? I tend to be overly honest and transparent. My face, body language, and voice inflections gives my feelings away. And if you hang around long enough and I semi-trust you, I'll wind up bearing my soul to you. If I've done that and you've been frantically looking around you for a way of escape, I'm issuing a blanket apology right now.

Currently I'm dealing with some fear issues. Out of respect for someone I love (privacy, not telling too much, blah blah blah), I'm not going to go in to any details. But let's just say that the routine, structure, predictability, and security of life is being shaken right now. And, if you know me, you know that I absolutely L-O-V-E routine, structure, predictability, and security.

This is the picture that God has given me. It's like we're walking in a darkened room without knowing where the light switch is. The fear of falling and getting hurt immediately comes over me. Okay, I'll be really transparent and honest here -- it's the fear of the boogey man that I KNOW is hiding in the corner waiting to pounce on me. So, there are two options: 1) Freeze where I am and panic; 2) Grab on to a hand of someone who knows where the light switch is and let them guide me.

Notice that the first option was to freeze and panic? That's because that is my first response. I usually can wind up terrifying myself with all of the "what-if's" and wind up hysterical. The problem with this response is that I'm still in the dark room, I'm not making any advancements or progress, and the pain will not only be probable but inevitable because I'll wind up flailing and trying to make it through without knowing what's ahead of me. Nothing good is accomplished and I'm absolutely alone in what I'm going through (unless the boogey man is there and that's still not a good picture).

The second response is obviously the one that God is wanting me to choose -- both for my benefit and our relationship. God doesn't need to reveal His plans to me so that I can give my approval, but He does want to make the journey with me. I may not understand all that is happening or even why it is happening, but God is capable. My heart understands that. My job is to trust and follow while He leads me through. My security is not in the light switch (revealing what I want to know), but the Guide Who leads me through the darkness. I learned many, many years ago that He is sovereign, can be trusted, and is my salvation. By placing my hand in His while He leads me through the darkness of not knowing and fear, my faith and our relationship is strengthened and grown. And He reminds me that's what ALL of life is about ...

"The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He willl never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." Deuteronomy 31:8

Carrying My Mattress

It was May 3, 1999. I ran through the house, adrenaline pumping through my body. I was barking orders to my children, hurrying everyone into the small half-bathroom in the center of our house. The largest tornado in the written history of the world (at that time) was heading toward our town, and I was admittedly panicked. Of course, it could have been a teeny tiny little ole tornado and I still would have panicked (I've never learned to be comfortable around those things!). And I live in the heartland of Tornado Alley -- go figure!

In spite of my freaking out, I herded our children (and dog!) into the bathroom, then scurried back to get a mattress off of one of the beds to use for protection from the possibility of flying debris. Later, after the danger had passed (the tornado wound up changing direction and went a few miles south of us) and my husband came home from work, I was relating what had happened and discussing with my family how fear and adrenaline can make you physically able to do things that you normally wouldn't have the strength to dol. I had run through the hallways of our home carrying a large, bulky mattress oveer my head ... single-handedly ... all by myself ... all alone ... I was Superwoman!! Ta da!!!!

Our boys literally collapsed in laughter when they heard me recounting the story of my panic-stricken night, because it was so different from the one that they had seen. In my frenzy, I thought I had been given a super-human strength. Seriously. I remember thinking I could have probably lifted a Volkswagon that day. I was that hyped up with adrenaline. In reality though, I discovered my youngest son had been carrying the mattress behind me. I was basically just balancing it, even though I thought I had been doing all of the work. No wonder it seemed so easy! Now, every time we hear that a tornado is heading our direction, this is a favorite story that has to be re-told. Woo hoo. "Mom thinks she's strong enough to carry a mattress all by herself" ... "Mom freaks out when tornados are around" ... "Let's laugh at Mom -- AGAIN!" So glad I can be the entertainment for our family.

The most interesting part about this incident, however, is the dead give-away to my fleshly character. My nature is one of independence. I want to be able to "do it myself". I want to lean totally on me and what I'm able to do. I want to count on my strength to save me or those I love. How often I've tried to "carry the mattress" of my life and my circumstances! How often I've tried to do what only God can do.

I've been created with a need to be dependent upon God, to be in fellowship with Him. When I lean on anything but Him (including me!) for my strength, I am only fooling myself. Just as I couldn't carry that mattress through the house on my own strength, so I can't be the right type of wife or mother (or Nammy!). I can't generate my own peace and security. I can't be a godly witness to those around me. I can't see in to the future to know what paths or directions to take. I might be able to accomplish a little towards these goals, but without God's strength, the road is harder, the heartbreak is stronger, and the mattress is definitely waaaaaaay heavier. What I am able to do on my own is second best to the blessings God has in store for me when He is allowed to work in and through me.

There is not a whole lot that I can do on my own that will truly excel and succeed, but there is everything good that God and I can do together!!

"My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness"

2 Corinthians 12:9 

Losing My Heart to Teen MOPS

I've lost my heart to a group of girls. The opportunity to meet them presented itself in September and has continued on through this time. Let me describe the "average" girl at Teen MOPS (Mothers of Pre-schoolers).

She's 18 years old and is the mommy of a one-year old. She chose life for her baby even though people around her encouraged her differently. She's single, raising the child alone without any financial help or assistance from the father. She has family near by, but is living on her own. Currently she's in the Alt-Ed classes at her high school, working to get her diploma. She'd love to go on to college, but doesn't know that she'll be able to with a child and needing to work, but the hope is there. She works a minimum wage job, and receives aid from the government to help with food, her apartment, and day care. Life can get incredibly lonely and overwhelming when you're 17, a mommy, and on your own.

The girl described above is a composite of our girls. But each girl in our Teen MOPS program is unique. They range in age from 16 to 24. Some girls have just the one baby, while others have two, three, or four. Some are married, some are single, some are engaged, some are dating. Girls live at home with their parents or grandparents, live alone, or live with their husbands or boyfriends. Some girls have dropped out of school, or are in regular high school or the Alt-Ed classes. Some girls are taking college classes or vo-tech classes. Many, many, many of our girls, however, have received their high school diploma, which is a big feat (and cause for celebration!) when you're raising babies.  All of them, without exception, are truly heroic in that they chose to give life to their precious babies. All of them, again without exception, deal with difficult choices every day as they struggle being young moms. But, all of them -- and I mean ALL of them -- love visiting with other moms who are going through the same stage of life. They love to make the different crafts that we do ... they love to play the silly games that we play ... they love shopping in our Mommy Mart ... and they love visiting with other girls. They laugh and giggle ... share wisdom with each other ... tell stories of sick babies, poopy diapers, paying bills, and listen to others tell their stories as well.

And I love them. I seriously love them all. I love their bravery and their determination. I love their hearts to learn and grow. I love their openness and honesty. I love their hugs and the opportunity to hold their precious babies. I love praying for them and praying with them. I love the fact that each one wants to be the best mommy she can be.

People have told me that I'm doing a wonderful thing (ministering to these girls) and honestly, that just cracks me up whenever I hear it. In reality, it's the other way around. My Teen MOPS girls have opened and expanded my heart. They've blessed me beyond belief and showed me that it IS possible to love people that I've just met. My life will never be the same after meeting them ...

And, if you're one of my Teen MOPS girls ... and you've managed to get all the way to the end of the blog ... know that it's YOU I'm talking about. I love you!!

If you're not one of the Teen MOPS girls, you're missing out on a blessing, let me tell you! But you can be a part of our group, even if you live far away. Just continue to pray for them as they continue on this path of life. Pray for their strength and stamina, pray for their growth and maturity, pray for their joy in trying circumstances, pray that they'll come to know Jesus as their Lord, Provider, and Comforter.

Losing my heart has never been so wonderful ...