A Princess' Middle

After we all went around the table and introduced ourselves, I realized that I was not the only one feeling this way. Incidentally, I ended up at the group with the lovely black woman (her name is Cher) and she was sat right next to me. (We even had place tags so they had complete control of where we sat.) I was with many other lovely ladies, all of which seemed normal and burdened at the same time. Of course, isn’t that why we were all there? To my left sat my table leader, Linda and going to the left was Dana, Kim, Mary Jane, Kim, Cher and I. Linda has got to be one of the strongest ladies I know. She constantly had to urge the group to open up and then deal with our emotions when we did. She was supportive and understanding. She was also a very elegant woman that wore a simple headband and curled the rest of her hair that hung a bit past shoulder length. She wore a light layer of makeup and her blush hade her cheeks a rosy warm color. She is a massage therapist, and you could just see her healthiness radiate through her skin and attitude. I liked her immediately. Dana is a beautiful lady in her mind 40’s that had the butterfly clip in her blonde hair. She always seemed to wear jewelry that flattered her eyes and was very excited about making new friends. In a way she felt like a mom to be right off the bat. Kim had lots of kids (that I lost count of) and short well-kept brown hair that I always admired. She always wore corresponding color clothing and I couldn’t help but smile when she pulled off a lime green outfit during the weekend. She even made it look good. Mary Jane was a petite woman that reminded me of a lady (Named Michelle) who used to baby sit me when I was about 14 when my parents would leave on vacation. She had short blonde hair as well as a wonderful smile. I could tell that she was a chest of burdens that was locked up tighter than most. I thought I would name Kim the most beautiful woman at the table. She had long red hair and pouf curled bangs. She was peppered with freckles and I could tell before she had her 4 boys she had one of “those” figures. When she cried she let the tears run all the way down her neck and on her chest. Since she sported V-neck shirts the whole time, she would dab the tears away when they reached her elegant cross necklace that hung from what I am guessing to be a 16 inch slender gold chain. She had a wonderful sensitive streak as well as a great sense of humor she would pull out at the right time for the whole group. I loved her trendy sweat suit she sported on Saturday and I could imagine her content with doing laundry at home looking comfortable and cheery as well as dressed elegantly for a nice dinner. Cher was one of a kind. She must be about 6 feet tall and weigh (best guess) 130 pounds. I am guessing her waist was not even as big as one of my thighs! She has long reddish-brown hair that was straight and soft. I wondered if it was a hairpiece. I think that would be so cool. You could be a blonde, red-head or fuzzy whenever you wanted to be. No long showers, no wasted conditioner. Anyway, she grew up in Jamaica until she was 17 and is now 38ish. I instantly bonded with her. She looked like she was 28, so maybe that helped. I could tell she was someone I could relate with. When we did our introductions she said she had broken every commandment… I think she was exaggerating, but I felt myself ease under my critical feelings toward myself.
We all introduced ourselves and picked a name for our table. We decided on “Seekers of Closer Encounters” although I think Linda wanted more from us as far as originality. We drew up our table tag and started worship. One of the first songs we sang they said was “from God” and all it included was a verse, “Do you know how I love you so” and it was so moving and wonderful. I suppose it is something we know (that God loves us) but we don’t choose to hear it and feel it very often. Even thinking of the chorus makes me misty-eyed today. After worship, we sat back to hear the 3 hours of testimonies of other table leaders.
From Friday night to Sat at noon we heard more testimonies than I could count. And I would cry. Another testimony and I would cry. I think every lady could relate to every testimony. I mean, I heard everything from abuse, affairs, abortion… you name it, the ladies shared it. I don’t know how they did it. How they got up in front of a bunch of strangers and told us their life story. I was definitely in admiration of them and hoped that someday I could be in their shoes, helping someone with my story. Every time I thought I was done crying, I would cry again. Although I have had a pretty good life, I do have some secrets. I think we ended the session around 11 PM. Mom retreated to the room and I stayed a bit longer. I ended up going to talk to another table leader named Lisa. I was carrying such a burden and a heavy heart. I had buried things and pushed them away as I thought they had gone. She helped my unload everything. I cried and cried and then we talked for about an hour. It felt so good to tell her what I had been burying for so long. I retreated to bed feeling completely exhausted. When I got to the room mom was still awake doing her nightly rituals, which I swear take hours. By the time we got to bed, we talked a little and then had some humor relief. I don’t remember what we laughed about, but we laughed. We probably kept everyone else awake. I didn’t care… after an evening of crying, I needed a laugh – even if it was at everyone else’s expense. I was sure there would be more tears the next day, but I didn’t want to think about that.
On Saturday I awoke to the loud singing of something I had not heard in a long time – “Rise and shine and give God His glory, glory…” They pounded the door until mom opened it and then continued down the hall. I grumbled as I got out of bed and headed for the shower. I have never been a morning person. Once I was showered and ready, we met and had breakfast. It consisted of egg casserole and assorted fruit, cottage cheese and cereals. It was nice. Then we went back upstairs into the meeting room and settled in for more testimonies. We would listen, then journal, then discuss. This went on until noon. At noon we were given lunch and we all prayed for Jay to find a job, which was really special. Then we were give an opportunity (or a command) to partner up with someone and go outside and walk and talk for about a half an hour while they prepped for a “surprise” upstairs. Cher snatched me up instantly and we headed outside. I don’t think outside had ever felt so good. It was chilly, but I didn’t care. We walked up and down the drive, spilling our souls in search of comfort. I told her what I had told Lisa the previous night and she was able to relate with what seemed to be a similar story. There were no tears in sharing my story this time, which was nice. When we came back inside we had a surprise waiting for us. I knew what the surprise was, but it was still very special. It was really cool to watch people’s reaction when they saw the surprise. When we came back into the meeting room, instead of one box of tissues on the table there were two, along with candles and soft music. Then, the workers came around and handed out large manila envelopes to each person. I loved it! Once they realized what was in the letters, they all started to cry. Some even sat and cried looking at the envelope. It was great! Of course, my husband wasn’t too good at contacting friends, so I didn’t have as many as most, but it was still wonderful. I received so much encouragement from it. After about an hour of crying and reading, we dried our eyes and headed downstairs for dinner. Finally, a break from crying! When we arrived downstairs, there was no dinner line open as usual. We sat at our designated table (and yes, those were designated, too) and waited. Dana made a joke that we were going to have to sing for our dinner. Boy was she right. I knew the surprise, but it was so moving! We started singing and then, hark! There were men’s voices behind the curtain (which they told us just had equipment and such). They started the men’s chorus and you should have seen it. It was almost like each woman had a heart attack. Some started to cry, others gasped in admiration. Some women started to sob and had to sit down. After the third song, I was done for. The boys started singing, “Do you know how I love you so” over and over and it was so beautiful and moving. Glancing over at mom, I knew she was feeling the same way. After the music was over, the men were shuffled out and went to dinner together. We continued with our evening, going through the buffet line and enjoying our dinner. Cher was in tears because we didn’t get to see them, just like the rest of the women. It was such an experience. Once again, I knew it was coming… but it didn’t make it any less moving. After dinner we were taken downstairs into the “chapel” area for a meeting. We talked about sin and how we carry it. We discussed our earthly fathers versus our Heavenly Father. We talked about how we are forgiven even though we may not feel like it. Then we were given a little fig leaf representing our sin and were told to write something we feel ashamed about or are still carrying. I was hesitant at that moment. What if my mom saw my leaf? What if we had to get up in front of people and share what was written on my leaf? Hesitantly and discreetly, I jotted on my leaf and shoved it deep into my back pocket.

After the meeting we were again instructed to shift rooms again. I didn’t know how much more I could take. One thing is for sure… I knew I couldn’t cry anymore. I would have never guessed what awaited me upstairs.

A Princess' Beginning?

I have decided to tell you all a little about the church retreat I went on a couple weekends ago. I have a lot to write, so I will probably break it up for you. The retreat was called “Women’s Adventure Weekend”. Now, let me start by saying that aside from bible camp in my tween years and a solitary scrap booking weekend last year, I am not a “weekend event” type person. I mean, why vacation for a weekend? Why go away for the weekend? To me, a break is no shorter than 5 days and a weekend out is just a tease that makes you feel like you have more time to relax. In reality, you have less time because you have to pack, unpack, and travel. By the time your weekend is over, you feel like you had no weekend at all. To say the least, I was not particularly excited about a retreat a few weekends ago, let alone having it with church and women! I did have a head’s up on the weekend, though, as my dad had attended the Men’s Adventure Weekend a few months earlier. I figured they would do the same events, have the same surprises, and talk the same talk. I thought that since I knew these things, I would not be so involved in the activities and emotions that usually run high with church functions.
When I arrived at my mom’s house to be delivered to the church I was in a horrible mood. That morning my truck window had broken, and I had fought with it in the rain in the parking lot of work only to be unsuccessful and retreat to my desk soaking wet and over 15 minutes late. Jay insisted that the dealership was too busy to fix it (even though he had not called) and he taped up the window until we could get it fixed. Since the puppies were due that weekend, I knew this would inhibit my ability to drive to Denver at the last minute. Just to add to my frustration, I cannot drive Jay’s car because it is a stick shift. There is nothing worse than the feeling of being trapped. I was pretty much packed except for my toiletries and mom reminded me that I needed my bible. Since I my study bible has been swallowed up somewhere in my house, I decided to take my gold-edged stamped bible that I keep at work. I had to be at moms as soon as possible so I could eat dinner and be at the church by 5:45 PM. I knew this would be interesting because I get off work at 4:30 PM. Anyway, the end of my work day rolled around and I flew out so fast that I forgot my bible. Not to fear, I packed and returned to work to grab it before heading to the parent’s house. It was then I noticed I was out of gas, so I had to stop and fill up. (Keep in mind that the gas station is out of the way.) I had conveniently forgotten about Friday traffic and by the time I arrived it was 5:45 PM and we had to be at the church no later than 6 PM. My dear father had prepared a bowl of stew for me to eat on the day to the church. You know how you feel when you are stressed, rushed, nervous and generally not hungry? Yes, I was all of them. I politely declined the stew and grabbed a protein shake from the refrigerator. Who would have thought this would cause my dad to have a complete streak of anger! He was absolutely disgusted that I was late and declined his meal. It was a nice touch to add to my mood which was spiraling downward with each passing minute.
We arrived at the church and even had time to spare. Sitting in the backseat of the car I felt like a kid again being dropped off for camp. There were swarms of ladies, husbands, kids and cars. There was a yellow school bus that was also calling me back to earlier times. We got out of the car just in time for some perky lady to run up and take our family picture. All of a sudden, I was washed over with dread. Someone grabbed my suitcase and pinned a nametag on my shirt, then mom and I waited in the sanctuary for our departure. I observed all the women sitting and chatting around me. There were all kinds of ladies to watch. I instantly noticed a beautiful African American sitting across from us talking with a slender red-head. My gaze wandered to a lady that had the same butterfly hair clip I had at home in my drawer. Another mother and daughter appeared in front of us. Both had dark brown hair with bleach white streaks, layers of make-up and heavy carats of diamonds on their fingers. The coordinators of the weekend event had grey shirts on and huge smiles. Inside I frowned as I waited for instructions in regards to my weekend of imprisonment.
A bit after 6 PM our attention was called to the stage where a lovely lady looking amazingly like Pocahontas started speaking to us. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she told us that they had staff praying for each of us for four months, along with friends we had assigned as prayer partners. She gushed over how our attending the retreat was no accident and there was a divine reason we were to be involved. I am sure on the outside I looked respectful (as I usually try to) but inside I was scoffing horribly. I was here because my mother signed me up and I was her safety blanket… with all of my heart I believed that I was going to be a support for my mom and I hoped that in return I would grow a little closer to the Lord as a result of the forced itinerary. We loaded onto the bus which happened to be for very small children. Mom promptly took the first seat behind the driver and I sat next to her on the tiny rubber bench. I was again reminded of my robust size as my knees seemed to punch holes in the back of the next seat. After almost every lady had boarded the bus, one climbed the stars and politely asked us to move so she could have the front seat. She said she felt ill and might have to evacuate quickly. “Great, here is a bright one”, I thought, “Go to a retreat with the flu.” Mom and I retreated to the back of the bus where we found one empty bench which just happened to be directly behind the beautiful black woman I had been admiring earlier. After squeezing in, I sat back and took a breath. At that moment I thought I was going to die. I could hear nothing over the deafening chatter of the sound that I truly despise – giddy women. I had been tipped that we would have our cell phones and watched revoked upon arrival, so I pulled out my cell phone and promptly sent a text message to Jay and Megan. It read “I am going to the retreat prison. I will call you when I escape” and I meant every word. You see, one year at the Men’s Adventure Weekend, a man really did escape. He ran in the dark of the night far from the conference center to the truck station (I am guessing) about 7 miles away. He was discovered missing the next morning. Anyway, fighting nausea from riding in the back of the bus, we pulled into the parking lot of the conference center about 6:45 PM. Upon unloading us, the volunteers were cheering and giving us high-five’s as we entered the building. I felt completely awkward and out of place. We were divided into groups and taken for a tour of the facility. We were then allowed 10 minutes to go to our rooms until we had to meet and get started with the activities. Mom had arranged that we room together (of course) and we met briefly before separating again into our groups. As I sat at the table with 6 other women, I felt like a kid during the first day of school. You know that feeling, right? That you have no idea what they are going to ask of you, what they expected from you and no idea what kind of snap judgments people had made about you. The part I loathed the most was I was sure people wanted to know all my “dirty little secrets” so they could fix me. I made an oath to myself that nobody needed to know my issues and I would just have to hold it together all weekend. I took a deep breath as I introduced myself to the people around my table…

Long Lost Hello

This month has been a test for me so far and it is only the 11th. Sigh. If you were anticipating a happy blog, move on. This one is probably not for you.

It all started after taking the dog for a long swim at my parents’ house on Sunday afternoon. It was a lovely sunny day and I let her romp in the water for about 30 minutes so she was not over worked. We then retreated to the grass where she was given a cool bath with the hose. I figured since ice is good for sore joints, that a cool bath would do her good. I am used to this routine. She exercises, and then she is sore for 8-12 hours. The next morning she is as good as new. Not this time. We finished swimming and bath time around 3 in the afternoon. She was painful as expected, but when we were settling down to watch King Kong at 10PM she was not able to lay still. She would whine and pant and pace. Lay down, get up, pace, lay down, get up... I know we were not going to get any sleep that night. I also knew there were no sedatives that the vet prescribes to have her sleep off the pain lurking in the cabinet at home. So, off to the emergency clinic we went. 4 hours later I was found carrying my 100 pound best friend up the stairs because she was higher than a kite. I thought that with a shot of morphine as well as a pill of torb, she would be out for the night. Boy was I wrong. She moaned and whined all night. Then in the morning she was still too drugged to navigate the stairs so I called in to work. Just like a kid, huh? I thought that since she was so sore Sunday that she would feel better on Monday. No luck. I made an appointment for her "family doctor" and we journeyed to the vet office yet again around 4 PM on Monday. She was diagnosed with Canine Equine Syndrome. This is good and bad. You see, we have been unable to diagnose her for almost 4 years. Now we had a very probable answer.

The next step was going back to the specialist for a second opinion. He told us an MRI was in order and then if that did diagnose CES, we would do surgery. The cost? Oh, somewhere between $1500 and $4500 dollars. This is on top of the $1400 MRI. This section brings me to an even bigger blessing... my husband. I don't know too many men that would be willing to spend this much on a pet. Luckily, he was in agreement to doing the diagnostics to help his loved dog.

She is going in for her MRI this evening. Evening you ask? It is in the evening because they have to wait for all the human patients to leave the center so they can use the equipment. Nice, huh? It makes me laugh thinking of the little old lady absolutely disgusted that she was lying on a table that a dog had been on a few hours earlier.

For most of you guys that know me, I have always had it pretty easy on the money side of things. We had $1800 saved up for our trip to Africa in 2008. That will go to pay for the MRI. I have been saving pennies and stashing them in her account since we found out this was going to happen. I have sold numerous things on Ebay that I really did not want to sell. I have taken in things that do not work in hopes that jay could fix them and we could sell them. I have decided to give gifts to my friends that I already have for their birthdays and am a step shy of hooking Cheyanne up and doing wagon rides to raise money for her surgery. The flea market might be my next even on Saturday.

Just to add to the mix, Sukka had my puppy on Monday. She has 4 girls for us to choose from. It was a miracle to see them born, but I am hesitant to take one home to a dog recovering from back surgery. The specialist doesn't seem too worried about it, which gives me some comfort.

Sure that I could not handle any more stress, I now have a sinus infection. I just cannot seem to get on top of things. I have been eating less and gaining more. I also went to a church retreat with my mom last weekend where we cried our hearts out at every moment unless we were sleeping. I am also in the midst of planning something very exciting, which you cannot know about. I have signed on for volunteering for Compassion as well as Hospice. What good timing, eh?

Wow, I feel a little better now. Especially since a good friend just brought over a yummy muffin from Starbucks. Carry on fellow bloggers.