Accepting Help

As long as I can remember I have had an issue with letting others help me.  I rarely go to others asking for help, there are only a very small number of people I ask advice of. I prefer helping others, I prefer to give advice rather than ask for it.

 Recently after returning home from a women's bible study I was a mess.  I was sure I had been talking way too much.  There were several woman asking questions and me... I only answered questions... I only gave suggestions.... or shared experiences.  I never once asked a question.  I didn't put myself in a learning position.  I was disturbed by the experience.  I hate people who never want to learn, you know the type, the know it-alls.  Was that me? 

When Chris and I first married and his mother would come to visit, she was always doing things.  She didn't just wash the dishes, she moved everything on the counters and wiped them down completely.  She cleaned and cleaned and organized.  I was so offended.  Hurt.  I took it personal.  After all, if she felt the need to clean it must be that I had not cleaned enough for her.  (C).

This week, Vonda walked into my office and asked if she could help me by sending letters to the MPA representatives.  Let me give you a little back story.  A couple years ago the MPA board started a new sub committee of the board.  A marketing and recruitment committee.  I was invited, but not chair of this committee, even though I am the marketing and recruitment director.  (I'm already going into the committee feeling like this will be a committee where they decide what I am not doing enough of.)  I prepared huge folders of information about where we once were, where we are now and where we are going.  The folders sat on the desks in front of us during the committee-- while the chairman completely ignored my work and just started talking about how we needed to have MPA representatives in every church.  People that we send information to and then they can spread it to everyone in their church.  Great idea.  Yes.  I felt like my mother in law was wiping my counters down.....it needed to be done.... a great idea... but it clearly said I had not done enough.  (C). 

Lets just say, I have not been good at getting information or letters out the representatives.  I am frankly just swamped with so much- running different directions- that I never seem to get enough done for them.  So now I'm constantly criticized for not getting them the info they need.  Mind you when I do, letters come back, emails are wrong, or they don't have email addresses, etc.  It is just an annoyance.  So when Vonda walked into my office and so kindly and graciously asked if she could help send them info, I started to--- well I started to tell her that was kind but I was fine.  I can't tell you how many years I told my mother in law to just sit and enjoy, when I was drowning.  However, I have a little less (C) hanging around and so I told Vonda what a huge blessing that would be.  This week she sent me her letter and asked what I thought.  It was brilliant.  For a brief moment I started to pile (C) on my self.  I started to think things like...."You obviously could have done that.... what is your problem.... maybe she should have your job..... seriously what is your problem....  But I stopped and smiled.  I stopped and I thanked her and God for the help! 


Today, I spent the day decorating my porch.  I painted old chairs to give them new life.  Bought a few flowers that were 50% off at Wal-Mart and put them in pots that have been spider homes in my garage for several years. It was a great day and I had gotten a lot done.  I was trying to get my porch done for thanksgiving---I'm ahead of schedule.... yea!!!!

Then after a long day of work, I'm feeling accomplished, I run back to Wal-Mart to get the groceries for the weekend when Tammy  called.  I almost didn't answer because I have terrible reception in the store, but I did.  She was calling to ask if Luke, her boy was really spending the night at my house?  I was puzzled.  Wondering what she was talking about.  Then I remembered.  I had agreed to have a group who were in town for a concert spend the night at my house and it was tonight.  I had completely forgotten about it. Instantly the feeling of being ahead of schedule was done.  My mind was racing with what needed to be done before they arrived. I started to be annoyed that I needed Tammy to remind me.  I started to pile on the (C).  But I stopped.  I stopped and I thanked Tammy for the call, I thanked God for the timing.  I was at wal mart and could just get a little more.  What a huge blessing!  What a huge help!

I'm not exactly sure of all the (C) that has made it so hard for me to ask for help or to accept help, but today I was so happy that it is easier now.  I have learned to accept my mother in laws work/help as the gift it is intended to be.  I accepted help from Vonda and my department and our school will benefit.  Today my heart was filled with gratitude instead of (C) when Tammy called. 

Tonight I am wondering how many times we all hesitate to ask for what we need, want, for answers with our Lord and Savior.  How many times am I filled with too much shame to fall on my knees or face first and beg for his help in my life.  How many times?  "Come unto me all ye who labor"

 So to Vonda Seals.... what an angel you are and I so much appreciate what you are doing for me!!!!  To Tammy, thank you so much for letting the Holy Spirit use you today!  What a huge help it was!  To all the ladies at the bible study,  I have learned from you and I am so sorry I was not able to vocalize that at the time.  What a blessing getting together and learning from each other can be!  To my Lord and Savior, I need you!  I need need you!  I need need need you!!!!

A writer

As a little girl I remember taking tape, scotch tape, just an inch or so long and putting it on the tip of my fingernail and then wrapping it around my finger to make a long fake finger nail.  After all ten fingernails were long, I would find pieces of paper and a pen and pretend to write something important. I didn't slow down to formulate sentences, or complete thoughts, I just wrote.  I used fancy scribbles and talked gibberish, while my mind was filled with grandiose thoughts of writing something important and very grown up. I also used those taped finger nails to flip through books I couldn't read and I pretended they were mine, that I had written them.  I played this way more than I played dolls, or dress up, or anything else for that matter.  I went through many a roll of scotch tape making fake finger nails.

Fast forward to my freshman year in college, I had a quaky English professor who was considered by many as, "off the wall",  "past her prime", or "down right crazy".  I was amused by her, and found her Comp 101 class easy.  We just wrote essay after essay.  At the end of the semester she called me into her office.  I was worried.  Over the years I had been called into see teachers and it was never for a good reason so needless to say I was uncomfortable walking into her office.  Her office looked like you would expect from an English professor with her reputation.  There were papers everywhere, her desk was a crazy mess. She asked me to sit down and then said, "I don't think you should be a pre med student."  Instantly I was filled with shame, wondering who had told her about my C- in General Biology--- but what was it to her--- why was it any of  her business.  Then she proceeded to tell me that she thought perhaps I should change my major and become an English major.  She talked about how I was a writer and needed to use it.  Instantly I shut her off, after all such talk just proved what everyone said about her--- she WAS crazy.

A couple months later I take the 16pf personality profile.  Career suggestions for me----1. Writer.... I instantly skip it, laugh at the notion, consider it a fluff stupid idea that is not me at all--- continue looking down the list for something that I thought I might possibly enjoy.  I looked for something that was impressive.  I looked for something that wasn't just a fluff title, but a real job.  What was a real job?  A job in a helping profession.  A job in the medical community, psychology etc.  Maybe a hospital administrator or a Dentist.  Frankly any of those jobs that carry prestige and are considered of value.  Writer?  Are you kidding me?  Writers are people who have their head in the clouds.  Writers are poets, dreamers, not finishers.  They may philosophize or tell stories but they don't do anything of real value.  There are people who write and then people who do.  I wanted to find the profession on the list where people do.

Now it is 20 plus years later and I am still looking at those lists trying to find the perfect fit.   Who and what am I.  I am a wife, I am a mom, I am a recruiter and marketing director, an almost counselor, is that it? Is that enough? This past year,  I blogged everyday, found myself needing it, and these past couple months--- boy have I missed it. So does that mean I'm a writer, or is it just a hobby.  Am I supposed to focus on it or just do it for fun.  If I do it for fun, does that mean I am a writer, or do I have to publish to be a writer?  So many questions.  Oh and there are more..... but I will spare you.

I don't have all the answers, but I have come to this conclusion...... ready?

One thing I know is the 6 letter word starting with w and ending with r, has kept coming up over and over again throughout my life.  I don't know the mechanics of the craft, I have a very small vocabulary, I hate reading and I don't know how to write poems, but.... for some reason the word--- that title keeps coming back up again and again.

I struggle with the notion that there are people everywhere who like to say they are painters, or writers, or pastors, or teachers and we all know they are not!  Am I one of those? 

I started writing this blog last week and then decided it needed editing.  I needed to polish it up, make it perfect.  After all if I am going to claim the title of writer then I better make this post good--- no I better make it perfect!  Seriously?

Here it goes.... I'm jumping off a cliff.... I'm claiming it..... accepting it..... embracing it.....


After a month of living without the joy of writing, after a month of going through my days thinking about what I wanted to write, after recalling stories throughout my life; I have come to the conclusion.... dare I say it... write it.... I am a writer!  I am a writer!  I, Beth Grissom, am a writer.

This does not mean I am a good writer or a great writer.  It doesn't mean I have aspirations of becoming famous or known for writing. It just means, perhaps I have for far to long, ignored that little girl with tape all over her fingers, paper and pens, and an imagination that dreamed of writing.  Perhaps that little girl, was wiser than I have given her credit for.
I don't use paper and pens, or put tape on my fingers, but the desire--- it is still there and I am going to--- for reals--- honor that little girl and call myself--- A writer! 

365!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 365!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!365!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Three hundred and sixty five days of blogging.  Three hundred and sixty five blogs about living minus the crap.  365. 

Riding on the back of the motorcycle today with the sun beating down on me, the wind cooling me, and the sky bright blue I spent a hour in quiet contemplation about the past 365.  Am I any different?  Was there any benefit in this exercise in daily writing? I thought about measurable changes--- my physical being isn't any different.  I thought about accomplishments---I took a dance class, I ran a half marathon, I wrote 365 blog posts.  That is something.  So is that it?  What now?  I seemed to be filled with far more questions than answers.

I spent much of the day debating with myself about this last post.  Should it be short and sweet, just like all the others or a long recap.  I thought I needed to purchase a nice white fluffy terry cloth robe and have it monogrammed with MtC, take a picture and post that.  Great idea!  One wash and my fluffy white robe would turn into a fluffy rust colored robe with our hard, iron laden water. I thought about having a party and inviting all of those who have been on this journey with me--- yet though this was a public blog, it has been a private experience.  So what do I do?

I have decided on a quiet simple ending (shocking perhaps to those who know me).  No fireworks or elaborate menus.  Chris and I have spent the entire day together, and tonight we will eat Ruben sandwiches, perhaps watch a movie and have a quiet Saturday night at home.

Today over lunch I asked Chris what he thought of this whole journey, did he see a difference in me, was he glad it was over?  His answer was that he saw a difference in my ability to discern, to catch myself, to identify the crap and let it go, which has freed me to step out and do more.

I agree, it isn't about not having crap in my life, it is simply about not carrying it around and cherishing it the way I used to.  When I started, I had high hopes that I would today be sitting here a completely different person inside and out---  I'm not---I'm still me, just a much more aware me.

So what now?  Where do I go from here?  Anywhere?  Do I just take down the blog and be done? Or continue?  These questions have consumed me for weeks---with no clear answer.

Last week I heard a sermon by Pastor Steven Furtick at Elevation Church here in Charlotte.  The title of his sermon was Digging some Ditches. He looked at the story in 2 Kings 3:9-20 where the army ran out of water in the desert and the King asks Elisha to ask the Lord for rain.  Then Elisha says to the King, (I'm paraphrasing)... The Lord said, to build ditches, it won't rain, but fill the valley with ditches and you will have water.  So they did just that.  Steven, talked about just doing.  Stepping out and when it is difficult and you see no sign of rain, no hope, dig a ditch.  One of the quotes he used, (I don't remember from where) was this.  You can't be creative unless you create something.

Then this week I go and hear Brene' Brown speak about her new book Daring Greatly.  Over and over she shared how being vulnerable enough to be laughed at is where great things happen.  A similar message.  Then today in church Pastor Ryan Ashlock, challenged us to keep going.  To let go of the weights, the stuff that is keeping us shackled and unable to run, set it down... (my version, set down the crap and run).  Move forward, run.

This afternoon I wanted to scream, "I get the message", but to do that would require me to move, to step out, to start digging ditches, to put down the crap and create something. I have been resisting---terrified frankly!

So where do I go from here?  What now?

I have decided that I will first take a month off.  I have vacation time coming up, sometime with friends, some time with my husband, and I plan to enjoy, to relish in the relationships, to curl into bed next to Chris without my lap top on my lap.  I will take a month to just enjoy.

Then I plan to start looking back at what I have written, organize it into topics, take those topics and write about the topic, really write about it.  I want it to be well written, grammatically correct, organized and something that is my best.  I realized this week as I pondered the what next, that I engineered this process to protect me.  To protect me from the humiliation and shame of putting out something I thought was good to find it not good.  I right up front told everyone that I was NOT going to try to make it good.  I used the excuse that I didn't want to get caught up in the English, the writing, but keep my focus on the process.  I know now, it was a little of that and a lot more about insulating myself from the level of vulnerability required to put "my best" out and have it fall short.  I remember thinking of some of you who are English teachers or editors and terrified that what I wrote would not be good.  So I took care of that by making it clear that was not the purpose of the blog.

I am not ready, but I am going to put down the crap, that says if I fail, I am not good.  I am going to wash it off and really try to write something of value, something that is well constructed, even if it fails.  I am going to put myself out there, not just in content but in the writing. 

I will not write as often.  Perhaps once a week, perhaps once a month, but I will keep writing.  It will take longer because I have to learn where comas go and more.  After my month off I do hope to work on it each day, but just post when the subject is completed.

For me this will be digging my ditches, letting go of the load so I can run, it will be daring greatly with a high likelihood of falling flat, but I'm going to do it anyway.  I am going to find a way to be vulnerable enough to once and for all do what I have long wanted, write.

In closing (as I sit here choking back the tears) this year has been an incredible process and I greatly appreciate your part.  Your words of encouragement, your comments, your acknowledgement that you read the blog, and most importantly your prayers, kept me going. I can not begin to thank you enough for taking this journey with me.  A blog would be just a journal if you had not joined in. 

I also want to say a very special and public thank you to my husband Chris. I thank you for loving me and supporting me in this journey. Thank you for asking me.... "what are you going to do about it?" Thank you for letting our life be an open book, thank you for understanding and supporting me all the times this computer came to bed with us.  Most importantly thank you for so eagerly reading each and every post.  Your desire to better understand and know me is so honoring.  Thank you for adoring me even when I was hanging on to piles of crap! You are quite the man!!!!! I love you so very much!

Well I think that is it.  Thanks again.  Now for the start of the new and daring me....I will start the process of really writing! So for tonight living MtC means daring to work on really writing. MtC means letting the crap go and being willing to fail!

Love to each and everyone of you!
Beth

P.S. If you feel so inclined to write, I would love to hear if any particular topic or blog post interested you. As I start the process of reevaluating this past year and sorting it all into topics your comments would be welcomed!

364- Quiet- The sound of peace.

Tonight as sundown arrived, Chris turned off the TV.  The contrast between, the noise and the silence, the light and the darkness was shocking.  There was an instant change in mood, an instant feeling of peace.

It has been a peaceful day for me.  I worked some, but spent quite a bit of time contemplating, praying and preparing for tomorrow.  Perhaps what I am wanting more than anything as an ending is just quiet.  I hope for the stories I construct in my mind to quiet, and for reality to reign.  I hope for the insecurities, the shame, the constant perfectionistic drive to be quieted.

I am not under the illusion that magically tomorrow after this year is completed that I will be 100% crap free.  I understand it isn't about living without it as much as it is identifying it, so that I can deal with it, wash it off instead of walking around for years carrying my own and other peoples crap.  I hope for there to be a peace, a quietness in my life. 

Today I made homemade bread.  In fact as I am writing the house is filled with the amazing aroma of homemade bread.  Earlier as it was rising I remembered how when I was a child and we made homemade bread and it was time to eat and the bread was still dough, we would make fried bread.  Tonight we didn't have any bread to go with our soup, but there was just enough extra dough to make fry bread.  I hesitated for a moment.  I started to go to the place of self ridicule and shame, in an effort to talk myself out of it, not for good reasons but for crap reasons.  Tonight, I can't even tell you what those were because the second, I started to go there I stopped and said, "NO, it is not a healthy choice, but if it is a choice that you would like to make then make it freely without crap and enjoy."  So  I did.  Chris and I went into the kitchen together and together we warmed leftover homemade soup and fried some fry bread to have with it.  It was delicious and I enjoyed it, thinking of delightful childhood moments when we delighted in fry bread. 

I am thrilled to have this time of rest, this time when I can reflect on this journey, when I can enjoy the occasional fry bread without my stomach turning from all the guilt and shame.  Tonight I am enjoying the quiet, the still and the peace! 

363-

Today was a huge struggle. My mind was bouncing from one thing to the next.  I was restless.  Finally, after getting some work done, I decided to just let it go and watch a movie, take a nap, just ignore the world for a while.  During that time Chris called.  He said he was just calling because he needed to hear my voice and that he loved me.  We chatted for just a couple moments.  It was wonderful but I was then feeling guilty for my escape for doing nothing.  I finished my movie and then started trying to figure out what we were going to have for dinner.  Chris had said he would have a worship leaders meeting but would be home around 7:30 ready to eat.  We were low on groceries so figuring out dinner was going to be a challenge.  I went and started looking through the pantry. I found the ingredients for something I have never made and something I didn't even have a recipe for.  Garbanzo Beans and Dumplings.   I spent some time researching recipes online, hoping to find one close to what I remember my mom making.  I finally found one and started cooking.  Looking at the clock I realized I needed to slow down, let the stew simmer before adding the dumplings if they would be perfect for Chris.  I held off until I thought Chris was about 15 minutes away.  When the stew was done I shut it off and waited... and waited.... and waited... finally around 8 I called Chris. He was still at the church.

He said he would be leaving soon.  It sounded to me like he was reminded he needed to leave when I called.  It sent my mind in a whirl wind of doubt and fear.  I was imagining that he would rather be at church than to be home with me.  He had forgotten me.  In a matter of minutes I was hurt.  Terribly hurt, and my mind was a whirl thinking the worst.  He called telling me he was on his way and wondering if I needed him to stop and get anything for dinner.  I just coldly and curtly said, "NO."  We hung up the phone and I waited.  I was washing up the last of the dishes from the day when he came in.  He walked right over to the sink wrapped his arms around me from the back, put his head right next to mine and told me how sorry he was.  Everything was all better right... Oh I wish.  No instead I remained cool. Where I had gone in my mind was so much worse than being late for dinner and a kind loving apology wasn't enough.  I mean how could he apologize when he didn't even know what was wrong. 

I served up the garbanzo stew and dumplings, we ate with polite but cool chit chat. Chris several times apologized, without really knowing how I was feeling.  We ended up watching a movie and then going to bed.  In bed I finally shared with him where my mind had gone when he didn't show up.  He again apologized, and then with a little twinkle in his eye, said, "I hope you remember my phone call this afternoon, and what I said."  The moment he reminded me of the call, it was as if a blanket of gloom, doubt, fear, was lifted.  I was filled with emotion and my eyes weld up with tears.  I realized, I had let crap get in the way of truth.  When he called earlier, I was so consumed with crap that told me I should not be relaxing, that I didn't really hear him.  I didn't appreciate that my husband had taken time out of his busy day to express his love and desire for me.  Then when he was late, I was so consumed with crap that I'm not enough, I'm not desirable because I'm not good enough.  Because of my own crap, I let him being late take over our entire evening.  

Now it was my turn to apologize and I did.  Chris is now sleeping soundly and before he fell asleep we talked about me blogging.  He agreed to have me share the story. This story is not about a husband who failed or who was inconsiderate.  This story is not about a husband who asked forgiveness.  This story is all about how crap can get in the way and turn small things into huge things.  How my crap can take a loving, committed man, who calls just to say how much he love his wife, who is committed to God, and has a passion to help others, and turn him into a distant, intentionally hurtful, uninterested in me husband. I am so thankful tonight that the reality of the situation was so much sweeter.  I am so thankful that as I finish this blog and join my husband and sleep, I know the crap that reeked havick today is gone and I have apologized to my husband, we have made up and have been vulnerable with each other.

362- Brene' Brown----Excellent

Tonight I had the opportunity to go and hear Brene' Brown speak at a local church.  It was a book signing for her new book Daring Greatly.   I looked forward to it all day.  What a great opportunity it was to hear her this week.  This week, of all weeks.  Here I am at the end of this journey, (just three days left), wondering what is next, evaluating the past 362 days, the changes in me, and in the midst of it all I have the opportunity to hear Brene' and have my books signed.  Wow!

When I first read, "The Gifts of Imperfection" it was on day...237.  Well into this journey.  I had been blundering along, just doing my best to figure out a way to let go of the Crap.  Reading it was such a boost.  I had been having a difficult time, and frankly was spending way to much time wondering whether this was a big waste of time, or of value for me.  Brene's writing about vulnerability and shame put words and terms to what I had been struggling with, striving for and washing off.  As you know, I don't like to read... yet I read her book, listened to her book and as of tonight I own "The gifts of imperfection" three ways, (audio book, ibook, and a real book signed by Brene') So to have the opportunity in the midst of my final week to hear her live, was huge huge huge!!!! She challenged me, she inspired me, and she motivated me.  I have a new book to read and much to think about. 

I have been really struggling with the idea that this journey is about to end.  I have tried to figure out why, what is hard about it, and frankly I don't have all the answers.  I find myself wanting to cry with an almost panicked feeling--- why--- here are some possiblities...

This process has become a part of who I am, a part of me.
I'm not sure where to go from here.
I'm afraid
Most logical next steps---I'm not sure I am confident enough, good enough, legit enough.

Tonight Brene read a quote from the front cover of her book, it reads:

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles; or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly...who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly. - Theodore Roosevelt  

Frankly, I am tonight wondering if I what it takes to start something new, scary, that I may/would probably fail at?  Am I ready to dare greatly?

I guess I better start this book and pray, and continue on for the next three days and figure it out.  I want to be vulnerable enough to dare greatly.  

361- Singing in the Rain

Well, I tried to sing in the rain today, the only problem was it was a sunshiny day when I started to sing...

In looking back on this process one of many helpful things I have discovered is the importance of intentionality.  I have had to be intentional about letting go of crap. Identifying it, letting go of it, finding ways to deflect others etc.  All of which takes a good steady dose of intentionality.  

On Monday driving over to work in Asheville, I listened to the last of the book, The Gifts of Imperfection, and it inspired me be intentional about being free to be a mess, being free to be silly, being free to me and no one else.  It inspired me to continue on this path and to be intentional about joy, about the freedom to be a little crazy. 

Today I was driving home, thinking about work, things I need to accomplish, while I was thinking about where I am, and what God wants for me..... I was reminded of what Brene' Brown had written in the book, a story where she shares how she was out shopping with her daughter.  She wasn't feeling put together, she sees a group of moms all quite lovely and well put together with their equally amazing daughters.  Then she notices that her daughter (I don't remember the age.... maybe eight) has heard a song being played and starts dancing to the song.  She then notices the put together ladies and their daughters watching with disgust and instead of getting her to stop she joins in.  Wow what a mom.  I know years ago I would have never... NEVER done that!  I know now...I would want to but..... Oh I'm not there yet!  

She also talks about just taking time in the kitchen with the family to dance, to have joyful moments.  I know it is biblical, I know it is important.  So today as I was driving home stressed, thinking about all I should have, could have, would have to do.... I decided to sing.  I came down a hill and the beauty was overwhelming and I just burst into song.... at first it was amazing (not the singing but the joy!) then I started to have thoughts like, "well isn't this stupid, don't you look foolish.."  but I just kept singing... "he is risen, Christ is risen....So let your name be lifted higher... be lifted higher... be lifted higher.... so let your name be lifted higher, be......"

I thought about singing in the rain and what a wonderful thought that is.  For me--- in the midst of whatever--- to be willing to sing in the rain.  I guess today I wanted to be free enough to sing, free enough to sing in the rain. There was no rain, just a little fog in the mountains, but I sang and sang!