Mom rocking Charlotte

 I have the sweetest mama, who drives an hour from Fort Worth to Dallas to watch Charlotte on days when I have to teach group exercise classes or voice lessons.  I could take her to childwatch at the gym, but she comes over anyway because she loves Charlotte so much.  It makes me so happy to see them enjoying each other.  I loved her mama (my grandma) and had so many warm memories of spending time with her.  I'm so glad that Charlotte will have those memories in her little developing brain and know that she is so very loved by those around her.

One of my mom's favorite thing to do is to rock Charlotte to sleep and then hold her throughout her nap, often falling asleep, herself.  It's so sweet...I can't help but taking pics of it.  

She'd probably kill me if she knew! Shhh...don't tell her! 

A glimpse of the divine

I shy away from the hokey, teary mom stuff usually.  But sometimes when I am rocking my 14 month old baby girl to sleep...her face looks so peaceful that it reminds me that there is a world beyond this one.  A world where goodness and virtue grow like flowers in a garden, and only the purest souls can dwell there.  

Babies seem "straight from heaven".  They capture the innocent and goodness that was lost in the world.  They are so unscorched by the harsh rays of this world's unending pelting of bad news, war, sarcasm, and idiocy.  They just...exist in the moment.  No wonder our souls are touched by babies and often moved to tears.  

I love my baby girl.  She is heaven on earth, too me.  Even on the nights where she screams her head off half the night...I wouldn't send her away for anything. 

A night on the moor

I slept, but my heart was awake.

A sound! My beloved is knocking.

“Open to me, my sister, my love,

my dove, my perfect one,

for my head is wet with dew,

my locks with the drops of the night.”

I had put off my garment;

how could I put it on?

I had bathed my feet;

how could I soil them?

My beloved put his hand to the latch,

and my heart was thrilled within me.

I arose to open to my beloved,

and my hands dripped with myrrh,

my fingers with liquid myrrh,

on the handles of the bolt.

I opened to my beloved,

but my beloved had turned and gone.

My soul failed me when he spoke.

I sought him, but found him not;

I called him, but he gave no answer.

The watchmen found me
as they went about in the city;
they beat me, they bruised me,
they took away my veil,
those watchmen of the walls.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
if you find my beloved,
that you tell him
I am sick with love.



S.O.S. 5

Cuddle Weather

Under your arms, sir.

That's where I find my rest.  Be it the breaking of day, after your long and unending battle against fire, illness, and lack of sleep.
Or after we are through with the gym, both sweaty and quite a mess.
Maybe in the winter, in the snow, in far-off places and open Northern skies and low Fahrenheit so foreign to our Texas-born love.
Or in Summer, when it's too hot to hold hands in the back of your truck at the drive-in.

My place, my point of being, my life -
When I can finally breathe again, and forget the rest of the world's noise
And calm my own breath to the steady beat of your heart,
Astounded by the simplest things.  Coffee in the morning, shelves full of unread books, little kitty paw-pads outside my bedroom door, mass on Sundays, and your arms...

Always returning there.  Your arms, sir.
My arms.

Golden Flicker

I am at peace tonight.

My room is candle-lit, with a few twinkle lights behind my four poster bed.  It drips with romance, with hope, with the songs the new year is just learning to sing.

I am in love.

Deeply, passionately in love.
This love drives me onward to betterment, with eyes towards heaven.
This love comforts me.  It dries my tears.  It is a tea and books in the rainy afternoon sort of love.  It fits me.  It suits me.

Jesus has opened His heart and shown me Christopher.
He's opened His arms and given me Christopher to hold me.
He's held out His hand as Christopher has walked with me, hand-in-hand, through these days and into His Church.  Just like I prayed for years ago.

What a beautiful, grand, messy life I have.  What a friend I have in Jesus.
What a kind, gentle, cheeky lover I have.
Well met, sir.

The reasons we aren't married at 35 - Part 1

Nikiphoros Lytras

The Waiting

c.1895

This post is gonna be really honest.  Soul-baring, perhaps.  Maybe I won't post it.  Maybe I'll delete it later.  Who knows.

This past week I turned 35.  I can barely bring myself to type that number.  Part of living in our youth-obsessed culture is shame at being a relatively young "old" age.  Youth is the goal, and pretending to be young is the way we do it.  Memes about forever being cat ladies, eating pizza under a blanket on a Friday night, or dressing up like 19 year olds in mini-skirts and going to clubs at age 40.  Things like that.

We find molds and try our hardest to stuff ourselves into them.
"I'm a poor college student."
"I'm a tired mom."
"I'm a gamer."
"I'm a church girl."

Or, for me, "I'm an actress."

Or more accurately - "I'm an actress, I don't have commitments.  I am young and free.  I won't commit to anything because it makes me freer. So my life is a blank canvas.  I kinda want to belong to a church but am not sure which one so I just visit and float around between them.  I can argue various theological positions and I go with what feels right at the time.  Whatever guy I'm dating at the time is my world.  And when he breaks up with me, or I get sick of him, I recreate my entire world.  I am really nothing except whatever chameleon shade I morph into."

But who am I, really?  Who was I?  Who am I being to become?

I recently left one life for another.
I had morphed into someone that I didn't like.  I was chasing good dreams, but in the wrong way.  I was so depressed and trapped in my own pain and fear that I didn't know how to get away from it.  I drowned myself in my own tears for trying to swim out.  Then, a hand through the pitch black, Jesus himself pulled me out and we started over.  But this time, it was different.

He basically told me that I was His girl, and no more dating.  It was now or never.  We marry...or I was free to not marry Him.  But He told me I'd be so happy with Him and He'd take good care of me and always feed and protect and comfort me.  And LOVE me.  Love me fruitfully.  He never loves anyone without fruit.

So we got engaged.  I started letting Him court me.  Kicking and screaming and full of young loves' tears at times, I let Him love me.  I'd cry when I saw other married couples sharing physical communion, because I had to wait.  And I still wait.  And I still long.  It's so hard seeing people who aren't aware or appreciative of their marriages being able to share each other...while I wait for the okay to share in my Jesus.  But I'm waiting.  And someday soon I'll have my first Confession, Confirmation and First Holy Communion.  My wedding, so to speak.  To Him...I'm already His but I'm waiting.  It seems like forever.

I'm His girl.

He remade me into yet another version of myself, but without a silly man at the center.  HE is at the center.  He is my world, my King, my Love.  I get really really mad at Him sometimes for making me wait and for some of the deputy decisions made by his earthly court.  But I'm HIS, y'all.  Forever.  I don't get to remake myself anymore.  He reminded me that the core parts of me won't change because He put them there.  The virtues He has given me are who I am.  I just have to practice them.

So this is who I am.  I'm so glad to know it, and it won't change.  My church is solid and ready to welcome me.  I'm just waiting like a patient bride.

Every 3rd Day - an Intro to Fire Life

I am the babbiest of babies in the "Fire Life".  So I know if some awesome senior fire department wife finds this blog and reads it, she'll probably laugh and roll her eyes.  If she's Southern, she might say "Bless her heart".  And that's okay.  I hope to do that too, someday.

Today I'm feeling it keenly - the one day on, two days off schedule.  Don't get me wrong, it's a great system.  It works.  I'm really grateful for it.  It is a tremendous blessing to me right now.  I don't think I could date someone who had a regular 9-5 job.  I am working 3 jobs, which is the equivalent of a full time job.  It's a juggling act!  My whole life I've battled laziness and irresponsibility.  I was a blanket burrito throughout most of college, depressed during my 20s, etc.  I did a lot of things well, but I'd give up sometimes.  Take on less than I could.  Build in escapes.  Undersell myself.  I've always been content with someone taking care of me.

Not that I don't want to be taken care of!  But in my 30s, I figured I'd messed around enough and that it was time to get serious about my life.  I've always been intensely serious inwardly, with ideas and beliefs and desires.  But I couldn't quite make that translate to the bravery required to work really hard for a really long time.  Well, here I am, world.  I am teaching 54 voice students a week, teaching a class at the gym, and singing professionally at a church.  I'm about to take on opera rehearsals.  Put on top of all that my conversion to the Roman Catholic faith.  It's a busy and beautiful life!

Enter Mr. Wonderful.  The Mister of my life.  A hunk of a man who came out of nowhere and swept me off my feet.  He is gentle, kind, strong, talented, smart as the dickens, musical, verbal, sciency, and loves Jesus.  I don't want to live my life without him.  I love him.

And he's a firefighter.

Which means 33% of his life is lived at the fire station.  The other 2/3rds is very free.  Like anything, it has pros and cons.  On the pro side, I am free to be an introvert and have my precious alone time.  This is a need for me.  I get snippy, anxious, and tired when I am around people too much.  I have time to scheme and plan and be independent a bit.  Also, on his two days off, he can come see me at odd hours (lunch break) or all day if he wants.  Super cool.

The con side I am feeling right now.  Christopher is at the fire station, and I am home in bed.  I feel ill, like I might be coming down with something.  I'm not advocating that he should drop everything and come sit with me, at all.  But it's hard to converse with him even on the phone between calls.  It's spotty, and good.  I'm so grateful for it.  Absence DOES make the heart grow fonder.  I'm spending time with Jesus in prayer, relying on Him.  It's good.  But I miss Christopher.

Actually...bottom line, I WANT to become an expert on this way of scheduling my life.  I'm excited about my life.  I'm excited about growing closer to my boyfriend and becoming great at communicating through these unique challenges.  Weird to talk so assuredly with 'just dating'?  Maybe.  I don't care.  I'm done with my 20's style underselling myself and building in escapes.  I'm gonna do this.  Even when I feel like poop, like right now.  Because he's out there, through the night watches, fighting for me.  And for you.

That's what love does.  We aren't alone.  Not even on station days.

There is a stretch of jaw

leading down to the crease of your neck

Where my nose can nuzzle into my future

All the thoughts that pile up and day over day spill

into your waiting arms, into that exquisite patch of rough, manly stubble.

and planting a kiss

I unplant my fears

toss them into the grey sky

So an October wind blows them far away, into the Advent

of the coming of the Bridegroom

And salty, dewy, delicious skin

I am allowed for a moment or two

Where I might safely giggle, or dream, or want, or long

But always be loved.

Press me there, may I tell my whimsy to your throat

Kiss me at least a hundred more times

Let my lips flit upon yours 

Let me be Home, just a moment more!

Let my hairs stay snagged on you somehow

Let me live on long after I've gone

Let me find you tomorrow 

Hungrier than today, but satisfied

Knowing each day I will come to you with myself

With an offering of the best of me, as the Lord wills it

He made my nose cold

And your skin rough

..and mine soft...

We shall know Him in our lacking, 

in our longing

And in our loving.

Come, holy friend.

You on the nightwatch

Me in my bed, asleep.

You pay me compliment just by being. 

Let me love you, scratchy as you are.

I will nuzzle you on the morrow.

And a million times onward. 

Stella Maris

And shall I whisper to the sea?
It tells me a never-ending story of you.

How you bore all my hopes and fears together
Saying "this mulberry tree shall be cast into the sea".
And flung far away, like a message in a bottle
Upon waves which reached exotic lands.
Moonlight began her vigil
The travails of this night set themselves upon us.

Undulating --
Dying in the throes upon craggy rocks
And quiet resignation upon sandy shores
Washed pale and helpless, choking in unfamiliar air.
How the demons of night were matchless
For a matched set of two mustard seeds.

And starting again with each new breath
Hoping with each beat of your heart
And the stars are my witness
Your true heart finds North
And the sea bears us far away
Under a Mantle of sky
Where night is our bounty
Starlight bathing us in crisp memory
Of our first night in the Sea.

Take my hand, and we shall sail onward.
To that land where promise meets us
You, my captain and my confidant.
I, thy dear handmaid.  Thy bidding is sweet.
On this Barque we have started.
And Mother sings us home,
A string of roses binds our hands and hearts
to an Unbound home in a new free land.

Come at me, bro

Come at me, bro.

No, seriously.  You had me pretty upset yesterday, my ANON (as you shall now be called).  You had me in tears, heart pounding, and very upset.  I guess that's what you wanted.  Congrats!

Here's the bad news:  writing a letter to someone under the guise of an anonymous account is bad.  It's cowardly.  It's really kind of a rotten thing to do!  But probably the MOST serious thing is that you couched it in Christian terms under the cover of "I'm only saying this in Christian love".

Love?  Shall we?

From my favorite ESV translation of 1st Corinthians 13 -

4 Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant 
5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;
6 it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. 
7 Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love?  Love is GREAT stuff!  Love is full of hope and wants the best for people.  Love doesn't tear down.  Love endures and carries on and is kind.  Love doesn't hide in a foxhole and snipe people while wearing a disguise.

There was no Christian love in what you said.

And I'm not gonna "get over it".
Since you read my twitter account, you know a lot of my weaknesses, and decided to use them against me.  Guess what?  I'm a growing, wounded, working through it daughter of God!  I've had some hard times which I've shared.  I've had some harder ones that I can't bring myself to share.  And that's okay.  God knows these things, and HE alone is my judge.  Not you.  So while you may derive some fine pleasure from setting up a Kangaroo Court here with your anonymous comments, God sees that, too.  He gets to judge.  Not you, not me.  I don't know all of your sins, and I'm fine with that.  Because God is working on you, too.  Let Him speak to you...work through it!  It's what we all have to do.

So while you upset me yesterday, it wasn't forever.
I realized that I want to act in LOVE and not as a coward.
I want to be HONEST which I have been, and not fake.
I want to be GROWING and experience the PAIN of growing, not of sniping people for where they are.
I want to continue in the GOOD THINGS that God has given me, and now worry about other people so much.
Look at yourself.  Ask God to show you LOVE, because you need it!

To my regular readers:
I've come too far in my journey with God to be so upset by internet cowards.  They are everywhere, guys.  I realized yesterday how it terrible it must be to have a huge, painful secret that isn't allowable for discussion in social circles.

To be Christian and think you are gay.
To be suicidal.
To struggle with intense depression.
To have failed your family.
To have an eating disorder.
To injure yourself.

Boy, those are heavy things!  I've dealt with a few of them.  At times I felt I had no one to talk to except the (anonymous) internet.  And I *had* to be anonymous.  Because if anyone ever found out I struggled, I thought they would pile layer upon layer of heavy judgement on me and make it worse.  And I was right.  This blog so far has been about my struggles in my own life with the depression that comes from really going out on a limb in the performing arts...to really GO for it.  And it's hard.  And it's depressing.  And God has been faithful.

And I tried to write my honest feelings here.  And boy was I punished for it.

I know so many who struggle turn to anonymous blogs or Twitter accounts or social media as a way to let out their feelings and cry for help.  They don't want their families to know.  They don't want their churches or schools to know.

Isn't that sad?  These are the social structures which God has given us for support, and we are terrified to use them.  We fear judgement.  We fear someone finding out how sinful we really are.  I wish we could all see each other naked, in body and soul.  Then we'd see how ugly and disgusting and real we all are, how gross and terrible are our sins, and how we need Jesus desperately.

Maybe we'd be a little kinder to each other.

So here's my pledge;  I'm going to continue to be real and honest here.  I'm not going to be a coward.  I'm not going to tell you about my life as much, because I need to put up a boundary and a safeguard against jerks like the one who attacked me yesterday.  But I also need to share my thoughts and feelings.
Know that this is a safe place for you if you want to share.  I won't attack you.  I will try to offer love and support.  God knows I need it.

So, ANON,  nice try.  Your mission from Satan has failed (even though you probably didn't realize that is what it was).  I'm still here, and stronger than ever.  And Jesus is with me.  Better look elsewhere for your trolling adventures.  I'm here to stay.