Acting Squirrelly

Thud! Splash!
With spatula in hand, I turned toward the pool area to listen for any further sounds. There was no flapping of wings or familiar noises that a duck would make. There was no scurrying of feet or barking to indicate that one of my dogs had decided to go for a swim. So, what had just landed?

I closed the lid on the grill and cautiously walked up the stairs to look over the fence. I saw a small head frantically trying to stay above water as it paddled to get out of the deep end. For months the structure had sat uncovered collecting melting snow, rain water and every leaf that blew in. The shallow part had no water, so this unfortunate creature had found itself in a cesspool of unattended crud.

From my vantage point, I could not tell what it was. At first glance, it appeared to be an otter, however, that idea faded when I saw the small animal finally reach dry land and flop down.

“Oh, no!” I said to no one. “It’s a baby squirrel!”

In all the years of owning it, nothing like this had ever happened. I called out for my daughter and we determined that I would have to net and release it into the yard.  As I walked to the shed to retrieve what I needed for the job, she said,

“Mom! There is another one in there!”

“No! No! No!” was my mantra as I rushed back hoping she was wrong.

She wasn’t.

While the one panted in a heap after its Olympic medal swim, another was leaning up against the side of the pool looking rather dejected as if all of its attempts to escape had been depleted.

I talked non-stop in sentences that made absolute no sense as I tried to extend the pole to try to keep the animal as far from me as possible on the off chance that I was able to capture it.

I pretended to casually remove leaves as I slowly edged closer to the one that was fighting exhaustion.  Just as I was closing in, he took off back into the water with one leap.

“I am trying to help you!” I reasoned.

Finally, I was able to get him into the net while he chattered and bared his teeth.  I had visions of dirty fangs dripping with rabies biting into my hands as I hauled the screaming furball over the fence and into the yard. With a quick shake, he was slightly airborne, hit the ground running and scampered half way up the tree. He turned to stare me down.

“I can’t do this again,” I said looking at the other frightened little one.

As I pondered how to remove the next one, a terrible smell surrounded me. I looked down into the black water and realized what was going on.  A few days prior, and from a longer distance away, I had noticed what I thought were two large leaves floating near the surface.  Now on closer examination I could see two bushy tails bobbing along.

“Oh no!  Please no!”

“What?” my daughter said.

“I think those are the parents!”

I ran to get a large trash bin with a garbage bag inside.

“I can’t do this!” I shrieked as I reluctantly put my net back in the water.  Bringing it up, I had unearthed a bloated adult squirrel that I quickly disposed of.

“Aw!  Yuck! Some of the water splashed on my legs!  I need an entire hot soapy shower!”  I had lost my ability to talk quietly.  The yelling at the top of my lungs was coming naturally as a way to release my disgust as this horror show was playing itself out.

Quickly, I retrieved the second one and then turned my attention to the living.  With all my verbal outbursts, I had only scared him more.

“Okay,  little guy. This will be over really quick if you just cooperate.”

Of course, he took off like his brother, but the three other rescues had made my net handling skills sharper.  In no time, he was flying up the nearest tree to recuperate from his harrowing backyard adventure.

For the remainder of the evening, I kept checking to see if all was well.  I ended up getting a snow shovel and moved one of the two to the front yard.  He obviously was in some sort of shock. It clung to the earth with its claws as I hefted him gently out of harm’s way. By dark, both had left, and I thought that was the end of it.

A few days later, I heard another splash.  Looking over the fence, I could see another one swimming rapidly. This was followed up by more of the same water fighting, snarling teeth and screeching by me and the baby squirrel before I got him to safety.

This time, he ran as far away as he possibly could.  I wasn’t sure if it was one of the original two I had saved, but my initial thought was that maybe he had to come back to see if his parents really were no longer living.

Why would it revisit a place that had brought it so much pain and agony?  As I stood there, I began to wonder why I do that sometimes.  How many times do I go back mentally to some horrible situation and relive what was said or done to me that was traumatic?  Why is it so easy to let myself go there instead of staying in the present moment and let bygones be bygones?  Why can’t I just let the dead things of former days go?

When I have found myself in the throes of an old memory that is dredging up emotions that I thought I had gotten past, God is always holding out the net saying, “I am trying to help you!  Get out of the muck!”  And, like the helpless animal, I have snarled, resisted and made my own self miserable when I didn’t have to.

In Isaiah 43: 18 it says: Do not remember the former things, or ponder the things of the past. (AMP)

Why not?  Why is it not good to continually go back over and dwell on those mistakes and negative issues from a former time?

Because of Isaiah 43:19: Listen carefully!  I am about to do a new thing, now it will spring forth.  Will you not be aware of it? (AMP)

If I am so preoccupied with what has happened to me before, I will not be able to focus on what I want to happen to me now.  If I let my past take up all of my thinking today, then that leaves no room for a new and good thing to take its place tomorrow.  I have found that to stop myself from unnecessarily going back in time, I must stay on top of my thoughts and allow myself only to dwell on things that will advance me forward into living a better life. Being fully aware that God is with me as a constant companion also restores my peace.  I can pray, release and let go of those things that have caused me pain and not fall into the trap of acting squirrelly.

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Turkey for Two

The Sunday paper was lying in a heap on the kitchen table. As usual, it was Monday, and I was finally getting around to reading a few of the ads. Most of the inserts spoke of doorbuster sales, but I wasn’t thinking of finding Christmas gifts early.  Instead, I needed two turkeys for Thanksgiving. As I paged through the various catalogs of information, I wondered what had happened to this holiday? It seemed like we no sooner had Halloween and all its uproar with candy scarfing then we hurtled full speed ahead to boughs of holly and mad dashes to find the perfect gift. What had happened to the cranberries, the stuffing, the giving thanks and a day of digesting one of the best meals of the year?

I located the grocery store ad in hopes of finding a buy one get one on frozen turkeys. In years past, this had been offered, but it became apparent that our economy had taken a hit as I could not find a deal on any turkey. I thought maybe the week before Thanksgiving this would surely be an offering.  No such luck.

The reason for buying two birds was not so I could eat them both, but my intention was to give one to a good friend of mine who had just gone through a divorce just like I had. He was going to be cooking a meal for his kids for the first time as a single man. I guess I was trying to take away some of the stress by helping him along in the kitchen by giving him the main dish to which he could easily add in the sides. I was not at the height of having an abundance of money, but I knew I was to help him out this way.

I put the paper aside, and I made the decision that I would go out and buy each of us a turkey the next day. In the meantime, I had to take my youngest daughter to her dance class. While driving, I mulled over the predicament. I knew exactly to the penny what I had in my checking account and back in those days, a savings account didn’t exist. I was never one for using a credit card to buy my food, so I knew I was going to have to just fight off the fear of lack and do it anyway.

After I dropped her off at her class, I sat in my car and said a quick prayer asking for help in apprehending two turkeys for our meals. It wasn’t anything fancy. Just a quick shout out to heaven with a simple thank you. Then, I put it out of my mind and got out a book to read while I waited.

When I got home, I saw the ad laying on the table where I had left it.  I felt a slight twinge of disappointment because I really wanted to give him a turkey, but I didn’t know how I was going to afford two of them plus all the rest of my meal.  I walked out to the mailbox, and as I shuffled through the usual bills, a bright red postcard surfaced.  Written in fancy font it read:

Your name has been submitted to receive a free Thanksgiving basket.  Please come to the address listed below on Wednesday to pick up your items. Thank you.  

I could not believe it!  Just moments ago I was worrying over how I was going to give away a turkey that I didn’t have to pay for and now I was going to be able to give away an entire meal!   Not even for a moment did I consider keeping this gift for myself.  I wanted to give it away to a person who was going through a hard time of adjusting to a new way of living.  I was so overjoyed that I barely heard the phone ringing when I came back into the house.

“Hello?” I said.

“Is this Christine?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Christine, I am calling because someone gave us your name to receive a Thanksgiving basket.  I am calling to see if you would like one. Our church gave away baskets over the weekend, and we are now trying to find homes for the ones that are leftover.  We sure would appreciate it if you would take one.”

“I just got a postcard in the mail that I am to pick up a basket this Wednesday.  Is this from your church?”

“No.  We didn’t send out postcards.  And, our delivery happened over the weekend.  So, what we have are baskets that didn’t find homes in need of them.  Would you like one?”

It was one of those moments when my mouth hung open on its own accord, and I lost my ability to speak for a few seconds.

“Sure.  I would love one,” I said.

“If you could come and pick this up before Wednesday, that would work out great.”

I assured her that I would.

On Wednesday, I stood in my kitchen with two overflowing baskets both containing two large turkeys, stuffing mix, cranberries, canned vegetables, fresh potatoes and all the staples every well stocked pantry could afford such as flour, sugar, butter and even a gallon of milk!

As we approach this time of the year once again, I am reminded of how I had no need to worry about any of the details.  I had asked for help, and the divine had come to my rescue.  Even before I had prayed, heaven had made a way for turkey for two.

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Giving Me A Leg Up

I have dealt with self hatred my entire life.  I have gotten better, however, there are moments when I still criticize myself in subtle ways. While entering the store with my daughter the other day,  I noticed my reflection in the glass door. In that split second I thought, “I need to work on my legs to shape them up.” I had on a brand new tank top, shoes and a pair of shorts that I had purchased at the end of the season last year so they are fairly new. Instead of feeling good about my new clothes, I was slightly finding something wrong with myself.   It was a fleeting thought that soon was gone as we went up and down the aisles gathering my items off of my list.

As we exited, I noticed a pair of legs that appeared to belong to a woman.  She was standing near a garbage can off to the right side of where we came out.  Normally, my attention is not drawn to legs, but hers were covered with scabs from her kneecaps to her ankles.  Below her left knee she was wearing a large bandage.  From my quick glance, I could see that her wounds were dry but looked red and inflammed.  As I approached her line of sight I was telling myself,
“Don’t stare. Don’t stare.”  I put my head down as I strode past her.  My arms were full so I just pretended to be preoccupied with my bags.

“You look comfortable,” she said quietly to me. I stopped and turned to her.  Her smile was radiant.

“What?” I asked in disbelief.

“You look comfortable.”  I smiled wondering when she was going to ask me for money.  I knew where this was going.

“I do?” I asked.  I glanced down at myself and said, “Really?” She continued to smile and said again,

“Yes.  You look really comfortable in that.”

I allowed myself to look at her more closely. She was wearing a pretty sundress that came to just above her knees which clearly left her leg wounds exposed and open for all to judge and see.

“You are the one with the nice dress on,”I replied. “This is the best time of year to wear a dress in the warm weather. That looks good on you.”   She nodded and smiled.

“You just look very comfortable,” she said it again.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“Have a good day,” she said.

“You too.”

As I walked to the car, I was dumbfounded.  She had not asked me for any money, but she had given me something.  A compliment!  As my daughter and I discussed the situation I said,

“Did you see how bad her legs looked?”

“No.”

“What?!  Her legs were covered with wounds like she had leprosy.  I was trying not to stare at her before she started talking to me.  And, why did she say I looked comfortable?  I was questioning earlier if I really liked this shirt, but now I do. She actually made me feel good about myself.”

“I thought she was saying that you look comfortable in your own skin,” my daughter said.  “Like you appear confident and you like yourself.”

“HUH?”  Then it hit me. I recalled my harsh mental critique of myself when I had entered the store.

“You didn’t see her legs?”I asked again.

“No.”

“I’m going to drive around and see if she is still there.”  I pulled my car around the building and headed for the entry.  She was gone.  I drove away feeling like she had been sent to get something straightened out on the inside of me.

In the last few days I have been thinking about her smile and her words of kindess.  As I am becoming more aware of my faulty thinking, I am wondering where this all started.  When did I become conditioned to find something wrong with myself instead of finding something right?  Maybe it was demeaning words spoken to me at school as a child, a family member who picked on me or the media and its constant opinion of what is ugly or beautiful.  What do all of these things have in common?  Another person’s idea or judgment.

What trumps all of that?  The One who made me.  There is a passage in the Bible that says, “You are God’s Masterpiece.”  A Masterpiece lacks imperfection.  It is time to live in a place mentally where I let go of the negative self image that has some how made its way into my life.  The only legs I should ever judge should be the chicken legs I am about to purchase and make for dinner.  To the mystery lady who helped me see the error in my thinking, I say thank you for giving me a leg up.

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Catching On

The other day I was driving by the city park and was surprised to see a lot of rubble and trees chopped down laying in piles.  The place where I had spent so much time playing softball has become a construction nightmare.  A new state of the art outdoor recreation center is in the works.  I guess grass and dirt are no longer ‘in’. They can rip the place apart, but the memories and events that took place there long ago are not forgotten.

When I turned ten, a friend of mine convinced me to try out for a team. On the way to my first pratice my dad gave me these words of wisdom,

“Don’t let them put you behind the plate.  It’s dangerous there. The catcher always gets hurt.”

I hadn’t stepped one toe on the field and he was already talking about injury.

We spent the first part of the practice trying to stop ground balls and catch pop flys.  When it came time for us to take up field positions the coach told me to go behind home plate.

“Let’s see how you do as our catcher.” I gulped down my terror.

I did as I was told and crouched down behind the white plate.  I glanced upward at the aluminum bat inches from my skull.  I jumped every time someone got a hit thinking that my head was going to be mistaken for the ball. I must have made a good impression, however, because that became my assigned spot.

When I got into the car, my dad asked,

“Where did you end up playing?”

“They put me in as catcher.” I am sure he imagined ambulances and crutches, but he kept his thoughts to himself.  We drove home in silence until he pulled into the garage.

“We better buy you a good mask.”

That first summer was difficult. My opponents barreled full force into me trying to knock me off my feet so I couldn’t tag them at home plate. One moment in particular was extremely painful as a girl twice my size in weight ran at me and purposely buried her head into my left shoulder. She was safe, and I was a ball of dust struggling to get off my back. Her team and coach gave her slaps of congratulations as I got up with tears in my eyes trying not to show the agony. My catcher’s mask was not only good for protecting my face from a wild pitch, but it also served as a good cover when I was hurting. I was determined to just suck it up and play on. But, I couldn’t fool my dad. Our eyes just happened to meet as he looked down from the stands. He called out to the coach who took a time out.

When the coach asked if I was okay, my tears overflowed, and I was replaced for the rest of the tournament. I found it rather difficult to sit on a bench with an ice pack and watch when I wanted to play. And, my replacement was horrible. We lost the game due to so many runs at home being missed.

By the end of that first season, I was learning how to plant my feet more firmly into the ground by the plate so no one could knock me off balance. Usually, the first runner at home would test me to see just how strong I was. It was a widely expressed fact that the catcher of a team was usually the weakest player. In short order, I proved this to be a fallacy.  Many times, a runner would come at me fully expecting to take me down but would find herself lying flat on her back being tagged out.

After a rough game where I had to fight to keep myself from being bowled over, my mom said,

“They think they can knock you over only to find out it’s like hitting a brick wall. You have taught yourself how to be immovable.”

During the seven summers I played catcher, I had to learn to have confidence in my position. It didn’t come naturally, and I had to be knocked down a few times to learn how to stand up strong.

I am finding as I go through life post divorce, and I am approaching a birthday that is looming ever closer to 50, that my times of being pushed over have only taught me how to stand my ground.  I have had situations come at me that seemed unsolvable, and in those moments where it seemed I was at the mercy of the events, I found I had more power than what I imagined.  I have had to mentally ‘plant’ my thoughts into the positive and not budge no matter what.  Even if this has meant repeating a certain phrase in my mind over and over such as “Nothing is impossible with God” when I have wanted to start to worry. The key to not being taken down begins in the mind and an attitude that refuses to accept anything but a good outcome.

And where would I be without the peace of God? That would be like trying to catch a ball without a glove. (You can do it, but boy, does it sting.)  The Creator is the one who supplies the inward strength so you can laugh when you want to cry and you can sleep when you should be awake with insomnia.  Can I do this flawlessly?  Certainly not.  To all of this I am still catching on.

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Driving vs. Striving

As I got back into the passenger seat of the car, I realized I had left my keys on the counter in the store.  I had cashed in some reward points for a free coffee and the clerk had scanned the card on my keyring.

“I will be right back,” I said to my friend after explaining what I had to do.  An employee handed my keys to me as I walked in the door.

“We hoped you were coming back,” he said.   I thanked him and put them into my purse for safe keeping. With my head down, I exited the building shuffling things around at the bottom of my purse.  I opened the passenger door, threw myself into the seat and reached for the seatbelt.

“I cannot believe I could be so dumb!” I said as I buckled up.  “I left them right on the counter.”  My nose was suddenly accosted by a strong cigarette smell causing me to look up.  Staring back at me was a rather shocked stranger.  Unknowingly, because I was so distracted with my purse, I had entered and made myself comfortable in another person’s car!

“Oh my gosh!” I yelled as I saw my best friend look at me from the next car over.  It wasn’t just a glance either.  It was one of those ‘what in the world are you doing?!’ looks.  My fingers frantically tried to find the release button so I could eject myself from the situation.  As I slammed the door and was running away, I heard the stranger say, “What the fu***”  He didn’t say fudge.  Pretty sure he didn’t.

I whirled into the correct vehicle and slouched down.

“Let’s go!” I said as embarrassment overwhelmed me. My companion shook his head, started the car and began the interrogation.

“What made you do that? What were you thinking? Did you not see that he was not me?  Why did you get in that car?  I never moved my car, so what made you go to that car?”  I had no answer for his questions other than I had not paid attention when I had left the store.  All the way down the road I kept saying,

“I feel so stupid!  How could I be so stupid?”

The two of us grew quiet. In the silence, I felt the first bubbles of humor begin in my stomach.  Laughter then erupted as I thought about the facial expression of the stranger and my reaction.  My stomach muscles ached and tears rolled down my face as I replayed the scene through my mind.

“That guy was so confused!” The more I talked about it, the more hysterical I became.

I hadn’t thought about this incident for quite some time, but the other day it burst onto the scene of my memory, and I found myself giggling just as I had on that night. I began to think a little deeper about it.  What if the guy had locked me in and drove off?  I am certain that my best friend would have called the police and chased him down.  But, I would have been at the mercy of someone else in control of my whereabouts.  When I made the realization that I was in the wrong car, I quickly remedied the error as fast as I could. The unfamiliar smell of smoke is what woke me up to the fact that I was not with my friend.

It reminds me of how my life is taking a turn lately.  I feel like I have been in the wrong car being driven by someone other than myself.  I have taken in the scenery, complained about the situation, but I didn’t  jump out and start over.  The road I have been driving on has been paved by bad past experiences and being told repeatedly that I had to ‘play it safe’ or else.

I gradually have been waking up to the idea that my actions, thoughts, and beliefs have shaped my surroundings. Just like the cigarette smell put me on the alert that I was in the wrong place, I am becoming more aware of what I want out of life and what I need to eliminate from my belief system to get there.  I have allowed someone else’s opinions and limitations to take over my thinking so much so it has stopped me from determining things for myself.  I have had old programs of fear playing in my mind as well as feelings of unworthiness.

For example, today I was told I could pick out a bouquet of flowers at the local floral shop.  I found myself gravitating toward the ‘less expensive’ selection because I didn’t want this person to spend too much on me.  He knew what I was doing because he knows me, so he said, “Stop looking at the price and pick out what you want!”  I have been programmed to go the cheap route.  Do you find yourself looking at a price tag and deciding how much you are worth? Am I worth $9.99 or am I worth $29.99 plus shipping and tax?  I am not saying to go out and be greedy or foolish with your finances, but when are we important enough to receive some of the good stuff?

I have to admit, it is time consuming and expends much energy living in a place of unworthiness. If I would just let myself say ‘yes’ to the opportunity before me instead of running it through my internal filter as to why I shouldn’t have it, life would be less complicated.  Am I saying I am my own problem? Yes, I am.  So are you if you are identifying with this.  It’s time to exit the current vehicle, change lanes, do a u-turn and start over again. Leave the former things in the dust behind you.   Begin to believe that you are worthy to experience the best of life just because God put you here.  Stop striving and start driving.

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Hired Help

I recently took a vacation to West Palm Beach Florida unexpectedly. Family members who were scheduled to go on the trip suddenly found themselves unable to and offered us the chance to stay in their condo. We planned for a week and off we went.

Once in Florida, we went to pick up our rental car and were treated to an upgrade. We found ourselves in a brand new Mustang convertible for the entire week! It wasn’t difficult to adapt to buzzing around Florida and seeing new places while sipping on my Dunkin Donuts iced coffee. (the butter pecan is heaven) I found myself happily surprised that I could actually get a tan sitting in the car. Honestly, it began as a sunburn. I had a seatbelt strap mark across my chest for a few days as a reminder that I hadn’t put sunscreen on right away. I guess a traveler from Minnesota who has come from gray skies and cool temperatures can find herself a little too accommodating to the sun. After much sunscreen, it was a faded reminder of rookie mistake.

We were able to experience beautiful coast drives, walks along shorelines and fresh seafood.  I found myself surprised by the fact that I didn’t step foot into a Walmart until we were almost ready to come back home. For me, that is a true vacation. Getting away for awhile can be an eye opening experience. There are no schedules to abide by, you can read incessantly by the pool or the ocean and speak to someone from another part of the country.  It re-sets the thinking to expand and allow a person to see that there is a lot going on outside her backyard existence.  It gives you a chance to think, breathe and go to Sonic at all hours of the night for their half price specials and not feel a shred of guilt about it.  You are on VACATION!

Once I returned home, the routine started up again, and I found myself on the phone struggling with a problem.  I tried not to let it bother me, but it did.  All week it would pop up in my mind, and I would speak over the situation words of peace.  On Saturday, I decided to go on a long walk.  It gave me a chance to think about what was going on without distraction.  I had texted a friend of mine earlier in the day regarding the issue, and he said: “What are you not letting go of?”  As I walked along, I pondered that.  Why was I struggling so hard with this?  What was causing me anxiety and loss of sleep or waking up with my heart pounding? The conclusion was that I felt alone. I felt like I had to fight the fight on my own.  Without going into too much detail about the problem, I was being transferred from one agency to another by phone.  Being put on hold. Being disconnected.  No answers forthcoming.  Instead of hanging up, I held on.  Sadly, I wasted an hour on hold at one point and then a recorded message came on that let me know that ‘all our lines are busy, please call back later.’ Dial tone.

I began to think about the condo we had just stayed in and the thought went through my mind, “While you were on vacation, wouldn’t it have been ridiculous to do the job of the hired help?”  I laughed at the thought of being on vacation and making everyone’s beds, vacuuming the hallways and taking out the trash.  It wasn’t necessary for me to do so because the condo had maids and staff to meet our every whim. Many times while there I was asked how our stay was and if there was anything we needed.  We would come back from a long day out exploring and find fresh towels and emptied trash containers.  It was simply done for us.  The help was there to do it for us. It was supplied.

So, what would happen if I began to allow the help of heaven? I believe in divine help and that God has already supplied everything I need.  Why then must I fight to get it?  I don’t believe I have read anywhere that God expects me to come up with a plan or fight to get something.  In fact, the Bible says He has a good plan all worked out for us and He wants to meet our needs. We have the Holy Spirit who is to guide us and divine workers to carry out the orders. I realized that I have been trying to accomplish my life by myself and not fully allowing the hands of heaven to assist me.

I have been under the false idea that I am to muddle my way through and if problems arise, I have to solve them without help.  I believe this thinking comes from a divorce I experienced a number of years ago and was left in charge as a single mom of two and a household to run. Also, I was raised to be a problem solver.  It was expected as I was growing up to be ‘independent’ and do things for myself.  That is a good character quality to have unless it cripples a person from asking for help.

As I strolled through my neighborhood, I lifted my concern to heaven and told God I needed help.  By the time my walk ended, I felt lighter and less concerned about the outcome of my unresolved situation.  It really is much easier to get through something and maintain peace.  As I have come to find out, the calm on the inside of me makes my outward circumstances line up quickly.

The next morning, I asked for a sign that heaven was working on my behalf.  I prayed and asked that angels be sent out to do the behind the scenes work so that my issue could be resolved quickly.  Shortly after, I was walking through a parking lot (Yes, Walmart) and I saw a heart shaped bracelet laying at my feet.  How quickly the divine responds when we ask for a boost of confidence.

I encourage you to call upon the hired help of heaven, and let the work be done for you. heart

Fears, Fretting and Finances

During the month of March, I decided to try an experiment with my beliefs about abundance and prosperity.  I have been in a few religious circles in my time and have absorbed different teachings on the subject.  I have been told that God supplies all my needs.  I have been told that He will punish me for not giving to the church enough by making me miserable in my finances through hardships such as my car breaking down, my appliances blowing up or an unexpected mishap will befall me.  Then, I was told that God loved me no matter what.  That His love was bigger than I could ever imagine.  But, there was always the but….if I didn’t serve in the church or jump through this hoop or do that thing, well, then maybe He might just not put a checkmark in my box for the go-ahead for that need I have.

I decided to put all of that teaching aside.  I made the choice to believe that God loves me like no one else can, and the good things of life can be obtained regardless of who I am.  Don’t we see that all the time?  Do you ever wonder how that greedy, selfish person came away with so much money and you wonder, why not me?  I am good.  I am not greedy. I made the determination that I was worthy of having extra money for no reason other than I am here, I am breathing, and I have needs.  If other people can have what they want out of life, then why not me?

I discovered a technique about a year ago that helps a person deal with emotions.  Sure, I have them, and so do you.  I love the happy ones, but I don’t so much like the ones that make me feel sad, angry, frustrated or depressed about myself. Aren’t those moments in life great when you say to yourself, “Gee.  I was having so much fun, I forgot to worry.  I forgot the problem even existed for just a little while.” You see, for some of us worriers, we make it our full-time job.  If we aren’t sleeping, we are thinking about how things are, how we don’t like our circumstances and all the bad things that COULD come our way if we don’t take care of this problem.  I hate to admit it, but worry has been my choice of drug for quite some time.  I didn’t come to earth with a worrisome thought, but I have picked up the habit from those around me who taught me.  I am not here to beat up those individuals because someone taught them and they passed it on to me.  So, another piece to setting myself free was to rid myself of the anxiety and fear that would rise up in me every time I thought about my money or took a peek with one eye closed at my bank account.  This was the key place for me to start.

How can I believe that I am worthy to receive money and the good things in life when I am filled up with fear and concern?  The technique I used is called “EFT” (Emotional Freedom Technique) I don’t fully remember how I stumbled on to this, but it has helped me begin to change my programming and thinking to what it should be.  The first time I watched a YouTube video and followed the instructions, I laughed my way through it.  I made sure I was in a room with the door tightly shut so that my family wouldn’t think I had gone crazy.  Without going into too much detail, EFT involves light tapping with the fingertips on various points on the face, chest and head.  It has proven to relieve not only emotional pain but physical pain for those of us who are brave enough to give it a try. I found out later that some people at a church I had been attending used tapping to help a family member quit smoking.  I had to get over the idea that somehow I was doing something ‘evil’ or that God would not approve of.  But, I was getting such good results, the guilt disappeared so I used it off and on.

It wasn’t until this past month that I began to take it seriously to begin clearing out the emotions that were not serving me.  I decided to begin working on my fear of ‘not having enough.’  I have put off buying myself small things or doing little things just because I was so afraid I would run out of money.  No matter how much money I had in my account, I felt this overwhelming panic that it would drain down to nothing, I wouldn’t be able to pay my bills and take care of my responsibilities.  I made the decision to do the things I was afraid to do.

It wasn’t the typical ‘white knuckle’ experience either.  You know the one I am talking about where you are afraid of snakes or spiders so you put your bare hand into a cage and touch them while you suffer.  It wasn’t like that.  I began acknowledging that I had fear.  That’s a great place to start because a lot of us stuff down our true feelings.  I began tapping daily and saying, “Even though I have this fear of not having enough, I know that God loves me.  I know that He wants me to have enough because He has promised to meet all of My needs.  He takes pleasure in the prosperity of His servants.  His perfect love casts out all fear. ” I noticed that the panic feeling in my stomach area was slowly dimminishing.

I became more aware of where I was feeling the fear in my body and the instensity of it.  As I began doing this experiement, I had recollections of situations where I didn’t know how I was going to pay a bill or meet an obligation.  Much of this stemmed from a divorce from a few years ago where I suddenly became a single mother and had to navigate unfamiliar waters of mortgage payments and an assortment of bills. I told a counselor at the time that I felt like I had been shoved out of a plane without a parachute. I could see the ground as I was free falling, and I lived each day anticipating the crash.

While tapping one morning, a particular memory surfaced regarding the first Christmas after the divorce.  I had received a gift basket from a local church.  I sat in the living room feeling so ashamed that my life had taken this turn that I had to submit myself to receiving charity.  I didn’t see it as a blessing at the time.  I felt embarrassment in front of my two young daughters who were looking to me for answers.  My marriage that was supposed to last my lifetime was over, and I was fully responsible for the management of the household going forward. While thinking of this from the past, I found myself crying as if I were back in that moment. I began to tap on the various points and said, “I release and let this go.”  That was all I said as I cried.  Amazingly, I can think of that moment from my past now, and I don’t feel any emotions.  I got it all out of my system.

As the feelings of fear and anxiety began leaving, I found myself wanting to do the things I had told myself I couldn’t afford.  I took two road trips, ate out more than usual, bought items that I had denied myself for years, went to a toy sale and bought gifts for a family who just found out that a baby is on the way, and I purchased a gift card so a friend and her husband could have a night out for dinner.  I did all of this without the fear hanging over me like a dark shadow.  I found myself joyful, relaxed and hopeful that life wasn’t about trying not to go under.  I felt weights of worry lift off even more as I went about my life doing good not only for myself but for others around me.

Here is the really exciting part…I had money left over at the end of the month to put into my savings account.  To wake up in the morning and not have worry hit me before my eyes are open is the best part of the entire experience.  I cannot say that I am entirely free of the fretting, but I am putting into practice a new way of doing things.  I encourage you to do the same.

A book I found helpful on EFT: The Tapping Solution by Nick Ortner

A Youtube channel: Brad Yates (The guy has everything you could ask for about what ails you emotionally. He offers free tapping sessions to help clear out those things that are weighing you down.)

What to say, what to say?

A blank white page like this can be intimidating and daunting especially when you are new to the blog world.  What would people want me to write about that would hold their attention?  Time is important so I shouldn’t waste it by going on and on about nothing.  Hmmm…maybe this is where I write a little bit about myself just to get going…

My desire for writing began in elementary school.  When the teacher would announce that all students would need to write a paper, the group groan reverberated off the walls. But, not me.  One time, I recall we were expected to write a fictional story.  The instructor had sheets of paper on her desk and if we needed more for writing, we had to go and get more to continue on.  My classmates began counting out loud how many times I sprinted back and forth between my desk and hers.  While they suffered with writer’s block and lack of imagination, I effortlessly filled page after page.

I love to write for the pure joy of it.  Now you know the secret behind my blog name,and it is a reference to a Bible scripture that has meant a lot to me.  I have found that if you can get rid of thinking about what is WRONG this creates room for what is RIGHT.  More on this later…

My purpose in writing this is to make my Facebook status posts shorter, to make you laugh and to encourage those who need it.  I hope you drop in from time to time with a nice cup of coffee….or tea…Together, we can think about those things that are lovely, pure and right.                                                   (Stinky and Me)

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