Finally Free

Sometimes, I feel like I have to tell myself "I am a confident, independent woman who can do things on my own, without help" over and over.
But then I wonder and worry, what if I've now run those extremes? What if I've become so confident, I'm now arrogant? Or what if I'm so independent I don't know how to accept help?  Or, if there ever was someone in my life, I won't know how to live a co-dependent life? Or what if I've not listened to myself good enough and now I've become a hermit?

How is one to balance them out? Honestly, I'm not sure, I'm still working it out (and will take any advice you have in the matter). So often I run the far ends of the pendulum. So "confident" I'm a loud, bossy mess (usually when it involves competition of some kind) who has to be around lots of people (not a ton, because I don't do well in really large crowds). So confident that I won't let any one get a word in edge wise and so arrogantly stubborn you can't say one thing without it getting ripped to shreds. Or the other side, going to do my own things without telling anybody because I'm doing them ON. MY. OWN. Or where locking my room door and pulling the covers over my head is much easier than facing people that might ask me questions, even family members.*gasp* You may think these are slightly exaggerated examples, but I've done those exact things so many times, I've lost track. (It does tend to run the hermit track more often than not.)

So where is the balance? How can I learn to be completely me and in the middle?

I keep coming back to the phrase, I am free.

So maybe it's a daily struggle. One that takes years and years of practice. One that is never ending. But one that is made easier because He has set me free.

I don't have to hide behind my "introvert" tendencies or use them as an excuse. I don't have to be ruled by what others feel I should or shouldn't not be confident in.
I'm learning it's okay to be frighten of going somewhere uncomfortable. It's okay to need some quiet time to myself and God to reflect. It's okay if I don't speak up and just listen, even when I feel judged because I don't speak. It's okay that I feel more able to express myself when writing blogs instead of actually speaking them. It's okay to be sure of yourself in certain situations. It's okay to have an opinion. It's okay to need help sometimes. And sometimes, it's okay to be loud. (FYI, if you ever need an announcer in a loud room or someone to do a sound bite of screaming, I've got a good set of lungs. Maybe it's the German in me. HA)

He has made me free to be exactly who He made me. He is completing me just as He designed. And He loves me with all my quirks and pendulum swings. I don't have to be afraid of not being exactly in the middle right now. I'll probably never be in that perfect balanced spot. (And who are we kidding. Balanced is boring, right?) 

So what are your thoughts? What do you do to find that elusive balance? What verses/books/sermons/thoughts have helped?

Learning to live finally free,
Ti-Ti

Greener Grass? or Polar Prospectives?

Purity Rings....

Maybe it was a homeschooler thing. Maybe it was an "Independent Fundamental Baptist" thing. Maybe it was just the hip "Christian" thing to do. When I turned 16, my parents gave me a purity ring. They never told me what finger to put it on. And they may not have even called it a purity ring. Maybe they just called it a promise ring (More like a "promise to God" ring.) Maybe they just gave us rings when we turned 16 cause it was cool and pretty.... (knowing my parents, though, there was a deeper reason than that....)

I honestly have to use both my hands, take off my shoes, and use my neighbors fingers as well to count the number of times I've been asked how long I've been married, if I just got engaged, or any other combination of those two. I answer honestly, but every time I answer it seems to somewhat scare people away..... as though they feel awkward for assuming that or maybe pity for me...

There was a blog floating around recently about a girl who took off her purity ring. She decided that it was making her wait to live her life. She was pursuing a relationship with Christ only so she would get a guy in the end. (not really where I am but a good read, nonetheless, Gracefortheroad- "I Don't Wait Anymore.")
Being as shy as I am, I tend to do things that help me blend in. Often, I've thought of taking my ring off, or maybe try wearing it on a different finger to avoid the conversation.  And sometimes, laugh at me if you will, I've thought that on occasion it has scared several "potentials" away. (Oh, the joys of being a nanny with a ring on. But at least the kids are cute so I take it as a compliment when people think they're mine... "Ma'am, you make beautiful babies." HA!!!) But my reasons for possibly taking it off were nothing similar to what this girl decided.

Last Sunday, we talked about being single and marriage (and a bit of other stuff too). The point that spoke the most to me was the encouragement and discipleship that needs to go both ways- from singles to marrieds, from marrieds to singles. Both of them have their own struggles and insights into life and neither "side" has the "greener grass."
{P.S. free advertisement here- if you want to hear the message -or any of the other messages from my awesome pastor -(yes, he's my brother, no I'm not biased) go here- highplains.org- sermons (this message is "the Gifted- Part 22)}

So here's my thought. Let's understand each other a bit better by getting both sides of this story. Married peoples, what are your thoughts about "purity rings" and singles what do you think about them?

Before you give your insight, let me shed a bit of light on how I view my purity ring. (And honestly, I'm probably not going to take mine off anytime soon, if ever- even if it does produce some awkward times for me. Partly because you'd have to be very convincing toward why I should because I've inherited both my parents stubbornness, partly because it doesn't fit on any other finger, and partly because my finger would look deformed because I've been wearing it so long.) (Whoa, totally felt like Tevye from Fiddler On the Roof there, "on one hand... on the other hand.... on the other hand...") I don't believe this ring is causing me to "wait" to live my life. I've always been a firm believer of living where you are. Like Mike said in the sermon, "wherever you are in life, be all there." (or something similar to that) I don't even really view it as a reminder to avoid "temptation". My view on the purity ring is more broad I guess. Sort of a promise, no that's not the right word, a.... commitment...a.... striving....to put God above my own selfish desires, no matter what those desires are. It's there to remind me that I'm not here for me and me only.

Does that even make sense? Where are you on this? What are your thoughts and insights?

(P.S. it was also mentioned that we need to be open and tell others what "hurts" us in our different "relationship statuses". Here's a good read from a singles side of things convergemagazine-"26, unmarried and childless)

Getting both sides of the story,
Ti-Ti

Troubling Transitions and Trails

I feel it in the wind.... just around the bend. And no- I'm not talking about Pocahontas.

Change

At the end of last year, I did a post about feeling ready for change- like I was on the edge of the cliff waiting for the jump. But now I think I've got locked knees and a fear of ricocheting off the sharp rocks on the way down.

I don't think I knew exactly what I was asking for when I said I wanted change. I think I had a prefect plan for "change" in my head and when it's not going where I though it would.... well, let's just pretend that my plan was to always stay at the top of the cliff and enjoy the view rather than bungee off.

So often I get this picture perfect image in my head of where I am going. I pat myself on the back for how open I am to change and growth. I imagine how "my picture" will be the most amazing thing that God has done in my life. And somehow, I'll easy into this change with the grace only displayed by the characters of a BBC movie. But God never does things quite my way. Because, most of the time, my way isn't right or where He wants me.

I still feel a bit stagnant- but you know- maybe that stagnant feeling is just me digging in my heels.

 

You see, I really feel that God has given me a dream for my future house. I desperately want at least a 2 bedroom house so that I can use that second room as a ministry. I want to open it up to mainly single girls. Single mothers who need a jumping point. Single missionary ladies visiting. Girls that are needed a place between housing for a bit. But mostly, for those single girls that just need to be independent and move out of their parent's house. I'm not encouraging separation of the unhealthy kind at all. And I won't advise them on whether it is healthy or not- that's between them and God. But honestly, it was sooo good for me to get out of my parents house. I love both of my parents to death. I wouldn't trade them ever, even for a really, really, really nice camera. (ha) And I would surely go back to living with them in a moments notice, if that was were God had me. But sometimes, we just need a jumping off point to get on our own. Sometimes, we're just floating in that environment and we have to learn to get out on our own. A halfway house if you will. My jumping point was- and is- Mike and Mindy's basement. It has opened my eyes to what I want my future house to be like.

I don't think that I've put this dream in my head. I really do think that God has given it to me. But perhaps I'm pushing it to happen sooner than it needs too. I'm so impatient to start my dream that I think it is highly unlikely that God will move me to a place that will not meet this dream. And because this is such a "God-given" dream, surely He can't wait for me to be able to do it and will make it happen sooner rather than later, right? (ha)


But what if he doesn't put me there? What if He keeps me here for a very long time? What if he moves me to a place where the "dream" can't/won't/shouldn't start for many, many years? What if He takes away that dream? Will I complain about it? Will I claim money restraints are holding me back? Will I create my own little drama were I am now? Will I become so sensitive to not going where I want that I create rifts and roadblocks of my own? Will I seclude myself in my room eating handfuls of Lucky Charms and an entire box of fruit snacks?

I think that's where I'm in of danger of going now. Becoming so impatient to get where I think I should be at this time in my life that I become discontent. Looking at all my friends and comparing where they are and looking dismally at where I am. Imaging people thinking all kinds of disparaging thoughts about where I am and what I'm doing in and with my life. And it doesn't even have to be with my living situation. I've done this with so many areas of my life where I feel like I haven't got a purpose.

But the thing is- the thing I'm trying to remember when I get so discouraged and down about my life as it is now- is that it doesn't matter. None of these temporary things- that seem like such a big deal to me - really matter. (And to be truthful, sometimes these things are really small. Like really small.)

What really matters is where I am in Christ- my relationship with God. If this "bump" in my plans brings me closer to him and brings Him glory, then I hope I can be like Paul as he followed Christ in saying "Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope"  (Yes, Mother. Character is an elephant still. ha) or "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.." Or like Peter " In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ." This is the best option for me. (And even though some of the stuff that I may call "trails" wouldn't normally be classified as that, they sure seem like "hardships" to me.)

That doesn't mean I'm surrendered to this. That I will freely go about my life with a charming smile, accepting everything in my life even if it's not what I planned, never worrying about what others think about where I am. Oh no, I'm far too stubborn for that. There will be multitudes of nights with me crying that nothing is the way it should be. There will be gobs of days with me hanging my head in despair. There will be a ton of moments when I'm complaining to God that He's not going the right way. But you see, if I were to just easily accept this, where would the growth be? Where would my relationship with God be if I never needed Him? If I took everything that came easily, I would never need to look up. And, honestly, there have been a lot of dark times for me lately. Times when I seemed to like looking at the mud at the bottom of my pit rather than the sunlight and the hand reaching for me at the top of the pit. But that also means that I've been needing to do a lot of looking up. And sometimes, I've felt a bit blinded by the sunlight because I've been groping around in the dark for so long.

But here's the thing:

No matter where I'm "going" with my life, it doesn't change who I am in Him.

No matter if I feel like I don't matter, it doesn't change how He loves me.

No matter if I'm forever living in basement until I'm 78, it doesn't change how He can use me.

No matter if I never get "my dream", it doesn't change that He died for me.

 

"When I lose my way,
And I forget my name,
Remind me who I am.
In the mirror all I see,
Is who I don't wanna be,
Remind me who I am.
In the loneliest places,
When I can't remember what grace is.

Tell me once again who I am to You,
Who I am to You.
Tell me lest I forget who I am to You,
That I belong to You.
To You.

When my heart is like a stone,
And I'm running far from home,
Remind me who I am.
When I can't receive Your love,
Afraid I'll never be enough,
Remind me who I am.
If I'm Your beloved,
Can You help me believe it.

I'm the one you love,
I'm the one you love,
That will be enough,
I'm the one you love.

Tell me once again who I am to You,
Who I am to You.
Tell me lest I forget who I am to You.
That I belong to You."- Jason Gray

Looking up,
Ti-Ti

Painfully Phony- Posed Photography

I recently had an experience at my work with a professional photographer. Now, normally I'm behind the camera. Or if I'm say, in a wedding party, they usually don't need a ton of photos of me and there isn't a whole lot of posing that I had to do. Suffice it to say, I'm not used to being in a posed group of people. Let's just say that it was a very eye opening experience for me. Now, perhaps was just an off day for the photographer and I really don't want to put him down too much, but it sure felt like he hadn't a clue what he was doing.

Perhaps you saw these pictures in a little article in the Reporter Herold in the At Home section a bit ago. If you didn't, try not to be too disappointed, as I have included a snapshot of the snapshot for your viewing pleasure. And, many that I have shown this picture to say that is wasn't as awkward as we in the office felt, so please take what I say with a grain of salt and let me vent.

First of all he posed us outside, in the cold, while it started snowing, and then took quite some time telling us, the girls mainly, how to stand. I repeat, in the snow.... in heels....in light, white shirts. Then his feet positions that he told us girls to stand in was off. He had us point our right foot- or left foot as the case maybe- toward the photographer- with your other foot at a 90* (or perhaps 110* angle) behind it while touching heels. This was to bring the shoulders up and out so you don't collapse in. It was partially correct, you do point your foot and you do have your other foot behind you- but in a 75* angle and about 2/3 of your foot size away from your heel, not touching them. This gives you a nice line and in most cases will make you look slimmer. However, if you touch heels and have a bigger degree of an angle you look like a penguin and it makes your shoulders look very broad (not something we women usually want). Also, it makes you look highly unstable because most people- or maybe its just me. Yeah, I think it's just me- are not ballerinas with the best balance.

Secondly, he told us to have our arms "just by our sides." You know all that hard work we just did to bring our shoulders out and get a good posture?? Yeah, it just got wiped away with what I like to call orangutan arms. Letting your arms "just be by your side" without specific placement tends to make them look long and dangly. Also, people feel pretty awkward this way and you will end up with some hooking their hands in pockets (the cowboy look), others who have a weird leg grip going on (the half squatting look), while others look like they are dangling their fingers in the ocean trying to catch a shark (the fishing look). And since this was to be a professional picture, a good place would be comfortably clasped in front or behind our backs. I prefer the front as sometimes when you put them in the back it can make you look like you haven't any arms at all. This also brings your shoulders out and gives you a nice upright position.

Thirdly, he told us not to smile, but to look content. It's very rare for a person to not smile and still look content. If you can successfully accomplish this, you tend to look as though you just peed your pants. Not really  a pleasant look at all. Most of us that try to look content and not smile end up looking like serial killers. I did watch this video recently that discouraged against using the hard "e" words that we usually do when taking pictures. I.E. Don't use "cheese". It makes your smile more forced and in some cases very wide and -HA- cheesy. This, I would agree with. Kids do tend to need words to say to focus them, but you should use more "ah" words such as "mocha" or "yoga". The best way of course to get that natural smile is to make them laugh.

Also, we were not given a count or any indication that he was now taking real pictures, and not just testing his lighting. I will admit, as a more photojournalistic photographer I tend to have a hard time remembering to tell people when I'm actually taking the picture. But for a professional picture such as this, some indication would have been much appreciated.

I'm all for friendly photographers. You want people to be very comfortable and themselves with you. But, especially in a business setting when everyone is just thinking of the next thing they need to do, I don't think getting their life story is needed. Especially when you are standing in the snow....in heels..... like a duck..... in a white shirt...... on the edge of a curb.......at 8:00 in the morning...... in the wet snow.......or maybe I've mentioned that already??? ;)

Next he did very, very posed pictures of us "working." Now I know this one is simply more my style than something that is fundamentally wrong in photography. But honestly, I don't think it makes someone look very friendly when they are awkwardly standing over a co-worker with orangutan arms trying to look natural and failing miserably. (That one probably had more to do with his model than his posing abilities.)

Which brings me to the point of this blog (which, surprisingly isn't just me rambling on and pretending to know something, like usual. HA). It's not easy for me to take criticism. At all. Even more so in photographing because I'm so insecure about my photography. But if I ever want to grow in photography, I have to learn and be willing to take advice or criticism from others. So those of you that have had your pictures taken from me, did you go home and complain to your family about how awkward that was? When you got the pictures did you bemoan the fact that none of them looked natural or like you at all? Did you and your friends use or want to use the pictures as a dart board?
What about you that are just looking at my photos? Do they look cheesy? Do they look like unbalanced ballerina ducks?

Always learning,
Ti-Ti

Considerably Cute Chipper

Finally some pictures of David Lance "Chipper" Saxon, III

In case you didn't know, he was born March 17th, Saint Patrick's Day, at 6:54pm. (Which also happened to be his actual due date. Well kinda. I think he sort of had two days given, the 17th and the 18th.) He was a whopping 9 lbs. 21 inches. He ended up being born by c-section (which mommy was kinda glad when she found out how big he was), due to his heart rate dipping.

We got to see him literally minutes after he was born as they paused for like 4 seconds as they wheeled him back to the room. We heard the length pretty much right away (which I won the guess, by the way), but then we waited forever for the height and to hear how mommy was. I think they forgot about us out there in the little room. We got very used to that room while we were there. It consisted of one small round table with 3 hard chairs, two armed chairs, microwave, and most importantly a coffee machine. I soon discovered that it was much too small to pace in. At least there was Internet access.

Due to some concerns about his oxygen level, his sugar level, and a dipping heart rate, Chipper was kept in the nursery from his first night until I left. Right as I had to go back to the airport, they had decided to take him to the Milwaukee Children's Hospital. It was so hard to leave right then. Thankfully, after checking him out for a night there, it was determined that everything was good and he was cleared to go home.

I know it's been a bit since I was out in WI- but my OCD was having a battle with the graininess of these photos. He was born at night and was in the dimly light nursery the whole time. So while most of the pictures turned out pretty blurry due to the low lighting- at least you get a general idea how cute my little guy is.......and I get to go out again at the end of this month for better photos! Which makes me just a bit happy........

  

Missing my cutie,

Ti-Ti

Pet Peeves

So I'm on a.... what would you call it.... sensory trip? Ummm "this is how I feel, how do you feel?" sessions? I'm not entirely sure what to call it, but hey at least I'm posting again....

This time it's Pet Peeves. I've got a lot of pet peeves. Most of them I try to hide or I at least try to control them, so I don't "go postal" on you. But sometimes, sometimes they just jump out.

Like chewing. I mean really. We all have to do it, but there are those that seem to not be able to do it unless their mouth is open. And the crunchier the thing, the worse it is. As long as I'm crunching with you, I'm good, so don't be offended if you happen to be eating chips and I all the sudden grab your bag and start chowing. (Oh, and please don't start grunting while you eat like Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice.)

And one that's close to that, I don't let my dog chew her nails. It's normally not loud enough to bother me when humans chew theirs (although I don't really get the point of it.... they invented clippers for you, FYI). But dogs are just annoying when they chew theirs. And I don't let her lick her paws very much either..... It goes back to that chewing or "smacking" noise that drive me up a tree.

I don't know if I would necessarily count as a peeve, but I can't do lint.... or loose hair.......or flannel....... or corduroy...... or anything fuzzy really. I involuntarily will get chills and my toes will curl so much they hurt. I think it stems from hating things that are "dry" and why I never touch a news paper with out recently lotioned hands and why I'm always carrying around a big bottle of lotion and why I throw fits when airport security takes away my lotion. The meanies. I mean, you have to be much more clever than I am to make a weapon with that.

I hate it when people say that "every one's a photographer." No. Not true. Everyone can take pictures and "think" they are a photographer, but that does not make them a photographer. You don't hear people say "every one's an artist", do you?

I don't like it when someone tells me that I either will or will not like the ending of a book or movie. Please just state it as your opinion and not how I *will* feel about it.

I cringe at the sound of certain types of cardboard on cardboard. You know if you set a box on top of another and scoot it the rest of the way. Or if you fold the flaps inside and it rubs on the side.

Another one I'm not sure that really counts as a peeve, but I don't do throw up.... cleaning it, smelling it, hearing it, seeing it. Anything. So while I have the deepest sympathy for your pains, please just imagine me rubbing your back while you are hurling, as I run to the nearest windowless, soundproof room.

What about you? Your pet peeves? Do I do them and make you go bonkers?

Cringing,
Ti-Ti

Making Memories

Have you ever noticed how certain smells remind you of past times? I think it's the Parent Trap were she smells her grandfather to make a memory. "Years from now, when I'm all grown up, I'll always remember my grandfather and how he always smelled of........peppermint and pipe tobacco." I've come to discover that I do that without realizing it.

Like the smell of a certain hair gel reminds me of our vacation in Virgina Beach at Sandbridge. Just a few steps would take me out to the beach were the wind would blow my hair across my face.

Or, strangely enough, the smell of Ranch Doritos reminding me of when we went to the "older kids" C.A.C.S. and got all kinds of goodies like Doritos, and Oreos, and lemon drops.



 Or the smell of Goo Goo Dolls candy reminds me of the time when Jenni and I got all kids of junk at the dollar store one time for dinner. "I feel like a super model."

Or the smell of tootsie rolls remind me of how Jenni and I would cut up our tootsie rolls very small and keep them in tin so as to make them last longer.

Or the smell of cattails remind me of many hours spent at the Wishart's playing our make believe games as if our lives depended on them.

Or the smell of Carmel apples and chocolate remind me of late nights at the Aardsmas house trying to eat slices of carmel apples in effort to be cleaner .........and failing miserably.

Or the smell of red vines remind me of smokey Forth of July's sitting so close you could feel the boom in your bones.

Or the smell of moonlight path perfurme reminds me on laying my head on my mommy's lap and talking or of her hugs or her tickling me.... or really anything of my mommy. ;)

And I don't think I'll ever forget the smell of my Saabreensers face when I kiss her.

What is your memory smells? What lovely images do you think of when you come across a certain smell?

Making memories,
Ti-Ti