Want to know my secret for opening a jar with an impossible-to-loosen lid? Whack the lid with the back of a butter knife. And viola, that little dented lid turns with ease!

Yep, pretty cool, huh? Well, okay, it’s most likely what many people already do so it’s not some secret really. And I think the secret’s been out for for quite some time since I learned it watching my mother do it and most likely, my grandmother knew the secret too.

Want to know another secret? Dented lids are one my many faults, well, at least according to my ex who hated, absolutely hated, when I whacked a jar lid with a knife. And so, early in our marriage he took it upon himself, bless his little narcissistic heart, to teach me the right way to open those impossibly tight lids — put the tip of the knife under the edge of the lid and push up to break the seal.

I did it his way for 20 years, and lest I ever forgot the ways of the old wise one and absentmindedly took the back of my butter knife to the lid, I would find myself worrying he would notice dents in the lid on the jar of jam and reprimand me for not doing things like everyone else. He often scolded me that if only I did things like normal people did, then life would be so much easier for me — I would be able to take the trash out with ease, vacuum the rug more efficiently, and of course, open jars without denting the lids.

For 20 years of my life I worried that he would see my dents — and he always did. There wasn’t much of anything I did that wasn’t met with a furrowed-brow and clenched-jaw disapproval. Want to know another secret? Nothing I ever did seemed okay and I began to see me as not being good enough — just as my boys did.

 

Not long after my ex walked out ten years ago, I struggled with opening a jar and found myself beginning to loosen it the right way, the way normal people do, when it dawned on me — I didn’t have to do it his way any longer! He had chosen to walk out on his family, he had chosen to continue abusing us — and while I had chosen to stay and let him control me for far too long — no more, not that day! I loosened that lid the way I wanted to! Whack, whack, whack! — the back of my butter knife making dents all along the edges of the lid until that satisfying ‘pop’ was heard and the lid turned with ease.

That day I made a choice — to make all the dents I wanted in this life and to tell those who didn’t like how I did it, to get their own jar of jam if they didn’t like the dents I left behind.

Dented lids were only one of many things I did wrong in my ex’s eyes. And the freedom I felt in 2009 when he walked out the front door of the home we had owned, was so incredible. It literally felt like a weight was lifted from me, I could breathe — I could just be.

As the days moved on without him in our home, I was able to learn to function again. I learned how to smile and laugh again, how to find beauty in the simple things around me — colors seemed brighter, the chirping birds sounded sweeter — and life just felt amazing. It felt like someone was turning me on again, putting in a new switch that lit me up instead of flickering on and off. I learned to like me again. Actually, I discovered a new me and that person often surprised me with her no-nonsense, take-no-crap, discerning approach to life — and I liked this woman who looked back at me in the mirror. Sometimes I had to look twice because I wasn’t always sure who I was seeing — this was not the same woman who worried over dented lids — this woman took great joy in denting all the lids she wanted and not caring who saw them.

Yesterday, as I stood in my kitchen using the back of my butter knife to open a too-tight lid, I found myself remembering him telling me to do it the right way, and I ended up whacking that lid a little harder and longer than was necessary. I’ll dent up the lid if I want to, I said to myself with a smile. This is my house, my lid — and my life — and I’d be damned if I was going to allow him into any of it anymore!

No matter what dented lids you have in your life, never allow anyone to make you feel unworthy or not good enough. Hold your head and butter knife high, knowing you are a precious child of our Lord and Savior who loves all your dents — and then, whack away!

In Faith, Hope and Love,

 

 

 

 

Today I turn 54-years-old, in a temporary home hundreds of miles from my home sweet home.

It’s been a good day, my son made sure of that — a gift certificate for a manicure and pedicure yesterday, and a movie today. Bless his heart for allowing himself to be worn out so we could find something fun to do.

While I’m missing my husband and my other son back home on this day, and admittedly feel my birthday often turns into this last-minute-struggle to throw something together or an oops-I-forgot-it-was-your-birthday — today has been a very good day. I am counting my many blessings.

 

May the Lord help open our eyes to all there is to be grateful for in this life and show us daily all blessings He bestows upon us.

In faith, hope and love,

 

A few days ago at the clinic, an elderly man who is also a patient, sat quietly listening to a young woman tell her story of illness and recovery — a story of amazing God-filled moments. When the man was done with his treatment he stood up to leave, thanking the young woman for sharing her story, but then added, “Well, I’m just a nobody” in reference to her amazing, look-what-God-has-done-and-is-still-doing-in-my-life story — as if his life is not worth as much as hers or he has nothing as amazing to share.

His words, although quietly spoken across the room for someone else to hear, hit my ears loud and clear making me cringe. As the man walked over towards me, holding out his hand to say good-bye to everyone there, I grasped his hand, looked him squarely in the eye and told him without pause — “You are a somebody! You are not a nobody!” And I continued, perhaps for myself more than him, “We are all somebodies! We all have something to offer in this life, not one of us in this room is a nobody!” And at that, the woman across from me, sitting with her eyes closed while the IV dripped into her arm — smiled.

The elderly gentleman whose hand was still in mine, offered his warm smile as he does every day, and with a slight nod of his head and squeeze of my hand quietly said “thank you” and left.

His words stayed with me through the day — echoing in my ears as if God were making sure I didn’t forget them.

How many days, weeks, and years have I felt like a nobody. And that feeling seems to have grown more intense lately.

Life is passing me by, one person at a time — one lost opportunity, one missed moment — one lost dream at a time. Others go on to pursue their dreams and goals, reaching for the stars and making something of themselves, and I wonder — who am I? I once felt like a somebody, like what I did mattered — but one day I started feeling worthless, of no importance.

And there is no one to blame but myself. Perhaps I haven’t put enough into making dreams and goals come true — perhaps I’ve let fear hold me back from achieving some grand thing in my life. Or could it be that I’ve put my energies into the wrong things?

Often it feels like all I’ve been doing in this life is trying to find what it is I need to do, asking God over and over, again and again, to make my direction in life so clear there is no missing it. And yet, perhaps I have been missing it all along — maybe He has shown me time and again where He wants me — and I arrived a long time ago.

Maybe my destination has always been right here in front of me all along. No big road sign announcing my arrival — I’m just here — wherever I am, whatever I’m doing.

Life isn’t static, it’s constantly changing and shifting, and while some find a career or occupation they love — and I’ve done many different things — there is no one final destination on this earth we arrive to, not just one thing we end up doing in this life. We meet whoever is in front of us at any given moment along this journey and for me now, right here today for the past month — my destination has been here with my son as he works to heal his body, both physically and emotionally.

Just when I think I’m a nobody, that maybe my son doesn’t care whether I’m here or not, that I have nothing to offer or no grand story to share — God says different. I’ve had the opportunity through this journey here to Idaho to meet others and share our story of finding this clinic; I’ve shared about my faith in Jesus Christ and my heartbreak of abuse; I’ve shared my son’s story of Lyme disease; and I’ve just shared my heart and a smile or two along the way.

So when I heard this gentle, caring man say he is a nobody — a man with a beautiful story to share and kind words to offer each of us in that treatment room — it made me take notice.

God spoke to me through this man — just as my words have spoken to others over the years.

Years ago, a woman from across the country found hope and encouragement from the words written on my blog as she walked through an abusive marriage. We connected all those years ago and today I am proud to call her a friend even though we have never met in person. And the other night she once again reached out to me — not for comfort for herself this time, but to offer me an ear to pour my heart out to. This dear friend called to check in after reading my heartfelt, tear-stained words typed out on my Facebook page the day before, and just as I had listened to her over the past several years, offering an ear and sympathetic understanding, she did the same for me several nights ago.

And she said something to me that night after listening to me cry and express my heartache, something that spoke to me — she shared how I had touched her life all those years ago and she may not be where she is today if it wasn’t for me being there for her. Now she is wanting to share her story, so she can be a support to others walking a similar path.

Again, I felt the Lord speaking to me, ensuring me that I too am a somebody, I am not a nobody even when life feels hard and like I’m going nowhere.

While my name will never be something big and bold for all the world to see, I realize that my life which unfolds along this journey has a purpose, and I am a somebody in this world. I’ve touched people in various ways throughout my life — we all do to some capacity.

As we each share our stories and offer a sympathetic ear to others, it becomes a ripple effect. We may not all become a household name or go on to do big things, but it’s through the little things that God can make big things happen.

One story at a time, one person we touch in some way — isn’t that reward enough?

So for all the people out there who feel like a nobody or feel what they are doing doesn’t truly matter, believe me — we all matter, we all touch others even if in small ways — we are all somebodies leaving a mark in this life.

 

 

I’m on a journey with my oldest son in a place we’ve come to call home for a month now and will continue to live for another 2 weeks — a place that at times causes pangs of heart ache from not only missing home but from the healing of old wounds my son has which had only been festering all these years.

As my son and I strive to find our way back to each other, but as he heals from emotional trauma and repressed memories of abuse — I feel the heaviness of regret weighing down on me, whispering what a failure I was, and maybe still am as a mother. It brings me to my knees some days as I sob out for God to forgive me, when the truth is — I need to forgive myself and let go.

I know for certain that the Lord brought us here, and while our story is not unfolding exactly as I had envisioned or hoped for, I realize it’s about trusting God to take the wheel and lead the way, knowing that His destination for my life will be far more beautiful than anything I could ever imagine.

 

May we all remember on this journey called life, that we are a somebody who has a story to share — and no matter how big or small you think your story is — someone along the way needs to hear what you have to say.

In faith, hope and love,

“I cry aloud to the Lord; I lift up my voice to the Lord for mercy.

I pour out my complaint before him; before him I tell my trouble.

When my spirit grows faint within me, it is you who know my way. In the path where I walk men have hidden a snare for me.

Look to my right and see; no one is concerned for me. I have no refuge; no one cares for my life.

I cry to you, O Lord; I say, “You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.”

Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need; rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me.

Set me free from my prison, that I may praise your name. Then the righteous will gather about me because of your goodness to me.”

~Psalm 142

This morning I opened up to this underlined verse in my bible which brought me comfort all those years ago when darkness closed in around me.

I felt so alone — forgotten and abandoned by those I had thought would stand beside me. But like David hiding from his enemies in the cave, I cried out to the Lord because He would prove to be the only true constant in my life.

Unlike those around me who judged and condemned, often without really even knowing the truth of my circumstances — the Lord continued to love me and lead me. He brought me out of the darkness and in His timing made something beautiful of the mess  in my life.

May you find light in the darkness and beauty in the mess of life!

In Faith, Hope & Love,

 

 

 

Ten years ago, my then-abusive-husband waltzed out the front door of our home, leaving my oldest son filled with anger and hatred, and my youngest son and I slumped on the floor together while all those years of emotional trauma came pouring out of me.

That was a beautiful day, although at the time, in that moment of confusion, I couldn’t see that. It wouldn’t be until many years later that the beauty of that moment would show me that God’s timing is perfect and He works all things together for good.

“He has made everything beautiful in it’s time…” ~Ecclesiastes 3:11a

 

It’s been a decade since my ex left — that absolutely blows me away! And so many memories come rushing in when I think on it. Ten years ago, the day before Valentine’s Day, he waltzed out of our home and out of my life — well, not completely out of my life because he would work hard on running a smear campaign against me for the next several years and trying hard to turn our boys away from me. When I think back to that day so many years ago, when I look back at what was — I’m literally amazed at how far I’ve traveled and where the Lord has brought me.

So much has changed in my life since that day. There have been many, many good things come into my life, and there are have been heart-wrenching moments which have brought me to my knees, but one thing has always remained the same — God. He is my one true constant in this ever changing life. When rainbows appear, I praise Him for watching over me. When storms threaten to overtake me, I praise Him for calming the waters. When people walk away, I praise Him for continuing to lead the way.

No matter where I travel; no matter how beautiful or dark it becomes; no matter how far I fall or high I soar — He loves me through it all, no matter what. His love is unfailing and never ending and for that I will continue to praise Him and give Him thanksgiving in all circumstances.

A decade ago my life turned upside down, inside out, and was pretty dark and scary at times — but the Lord led me through and made something beautiful of the ruins of my life. And besides, what lies behind us cannot compare with what is waiting for us.

“…bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.” ~Isaiah 61:3

 

While I sit hundreds of miles away from my home, watching the snow flurries outside, I praise Him for the opportunity to be here getting my son the help he needs for his Lyme disease. And I will praise him in the middle of this story not knowing the ending, but knowing that all things work together for good and this all will too.

 

For twenty years I lived with abuse. Ten years ago, three months before our twentieth anniversary, he walked out. Eight years ago, the divorce was final. I made it, I survived — I found my happily ever after. The end.

In my life’s journey I’ve learned a lot, but perhaps the most important lesson is that God is in control and when I allow him to be, I always make it through and things always turn out for the best.

May you, dear reader, put your trust and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and allow Him to lead you through this life. No matter your circumstances, continue looking to Him and giving Him praise in all things — for His timing is always perfect and His love never failing.

In faith, hope and love,