I would like to thank the academy ...

Today, at roughly 11 a.m., I successfully (hopefully) completed the semester from New Jersey. I would say hell but New Jersey seems more appropriate. There are some of FB status' I would like to post of remarks about this semester but so I don't forget any, I am doing them all at once: 1: Pardon me while I tuck 18 credits under my belt. 2: In July, freedom smells like hot dogs and fireworks. In December, at the end of the semester, freedom smells like hour and hours Gilmore Girls and fudge, at least it would smell like fudge had my husband not eaten it all last night. 3: There are a lot of people I would like to thank. First, I would like to thank Garrett Faylor for the fist pump of triumph and solidarity. Secondly, I would like to thank April Jackson for loving my hair as much as I do. I would also like to thank Jesse Cook for keeping the change that occurs in his voice (it goes to a higher pitch I am not kidding) when I am sounding like an idiot to a minimum. Thank you to those strange and sometimes inappropriate dreams about my professors that kept the class interesting. And of course my husband for keeping me well fed and almost sane. I would also like to thank myself for not killing anyone in their sleep or mine. I think I had a few more but forgot them while writing my acceptance speech. Here is to three weeks of sleeping in, clear skin, and non-achy muscles. The last three weeks have been a real bear but it's all over now. Well, until January.

School but mostly Praise to my friends and my God

School has driven me to edge of my sanity. So that's all on that subject. Other bits have brought me back to my center. My last post, what to say about that. It helped me much more than I ever knew or expected. I hate to sound cliche' but I seriously had no idea how freeing that would feel. Lately, the words from O Holy Night have taken on a new meaning for me. "Chains shall He break for the slave is a brother and in His name ALL oppression shall cease." Admitting out loud to myself and at the same time everyone else in the world, brought an experience of freedom and release that rivaled the freedom I experienced when I gave my life to God. The love and support I felt and continue to feel was something I did not expect to feel or receive. Thank you for the love you have shown, the love that brings healing. Most importantly, praise be to the Lord for true deliverance and freedom that comes from His loving sacrifice. "Let all within us Praise His holy name."

It's Ugly but It's not What It Looks Like

Lately, I have been reflecting on where I was a year ago (as many do when the year comes to an end)and I am starting to see where I was a year ago in ways that I didn't recognize at the time. I knew that I was in an abusive relationship when the physical violence started, what I didn't recognize was that it was abusive long before it ever became physical. We all know the textbook definition of abuse and I knew that abuse wasn't just a physical thing. What I didn't understand was that it's not always a conscious thing either. Before, my idea of an abusive man was someone with a mental check list that went something like this: Today, mock her endlessly for the way she does her hair Tomorrow, do my best to make her feel guilty for spilling water and the next day, literally beat her over the head with the Bible while telling her that her religious beliefs are cult like. And because I thought that abuse was a conscious choice, I felt guilty for not being able to recognize the malicious plan this man had to tear down everything he could, and I hated that I was the "type" of woman that would let a man do that to me. And even after the relationship ended, I was (and still am on some level) tormented with the idea and belief that there is something wrong with me,that because I didn't recognize what was abuse that I let it happen. Granted, even after I realized and recognized abuse, I stayed in the relationship longer than I should. What I am trying to say is that I didn't realize that it was abusive, that I was being mentally, and emotionally abused long before he ever raised a hand against me. It's a slow process, from my experience on both sides of the relationship. It didn't start with him immediately belittling the way I dressed, and it didn't immediately start with me accepting every jeer he threw my way. As the violence of his abusive behavior escalated, so did my level of toleration and willingness to look the other way. I didn't want to write this because I wanted every one to throw a pity party for me. I am healing and being healed, the lasting effects of that relationship still creep up and I am sure they will for a long time. I don't know what my intent behind writing this is, maybe to bring healing to myself and others, or maybe to say that abuse isn't always stereotypical. I realize that what I experienced is only a fraction of what some women experience, but putting it into "perspective" was part of the problem. Even when I recognized that it was abuse, I rationalized it as well at least he doesn't hit me. Then when he did hit me, well at least he doesn't hold a gun to my head, and then when it escalated as these things do, and he did hold a gun to my head, well at least he didn't pull the trigger. (And thank God that he didn't) I'm still learning what abuse means and what it looks like but I do know that the "well she should have recognized it, or I told you all along that you should get out of that relationship" it doesn't help and it often adds guilt and shame. I am so thankful that I got out of that alive. And I am thankful for the ways the Lord is healing me. One of those ways being my wonderful husband. What a difference a year makes.

We're not that Special

I, like many of you, am exhausted by the thought of a few more weeks of political rhetoric still ahead. I'm frustrated by it and annoyed by it but what I find most disheartening is the sentiment that we should keep our opinions to ourselves because minds aren't going to be changed. While that may be true for some, I generally disagree with the sentiment because when we have more information to work with, our minds may change. Otherwise, what is the point of learning? Some call this being a flip-flop (as if it's a bad thing to change positions once more information has been attained). I have been wrestling with writing this post for a while now because I didn't want to be one more voice spouting an angry, one sided, political view but I couldn't get it out of my head so now I am putting it on paper (well internet paper). It's a bit naive to think that there was ever a time in this country without political rhetoric. From this countries inception, the debate among politicians and constituents has been for more or less democracy. In the beginning, Thomas Jefferson and his "Jeffersonians" argued against that other group about the economy. Jefferson argued that less government involvement meant more democracy for all, and thank goodness for us, his argument won out. And every election cycle, the argument continues. This election is no different. We all know that each candidate has a "plan" and personal ideas of how to "fix" and "change" what is, in their minds, wrong with the country. My worry and question is this: Which plan offers more freedom? Not just for me, but for everyone now and anyone who will come to be? Our generation, and this electoral cycle is not that special. More government involvement or less? I'm on the side of Jefferson, I would like less government involvement in every aspect of my life. Including but not limited to school, work, and my health care.

Gratitude now!

Serenity now! Serenity now! But I feel more like gratitude now, gratitude now! Why? Because I feel ungrateful lately, evident in the way I whined about my quesadilla falling apart when I was trying to eat it, at least I have a quesidilla to eat. Have you noticed I don't know how to spell quesedilla? Yeah well I'm an English major not a Spanish major. Anyhow, things I'm grateful for: 1: A good and loving God 2: My good looking, good cooking husband 3: the opportunity to go to school (got to keep repeating that one to myself) 4: a car that runs like a kitten purr, or however the saying goes 5: the opportunity to be humbled, not that I am wishing for that fyi I'm just grateful for the growth it brings 6: the mountains and going for hikes with the man 7: making my shirt into a bag to carry pine cones home in, we call that ingenuity 8: fresh veggies from my uncles garden 9: healthy ways to keep my pits from stinking to high heaven (I don't trust deordorant, it's poison) 10: and again my ever patient and loving husband. I could go on but I have a paper to write. (Serenity now!)

God's Grace

No one knows how to make God sound like a rock star more than Joel Osteen. Occasionally, I find myself enjoying his programming and listening to him proclaim things like "Our God is far out!" Through time and strife, I have come to appreciate Joel and his insight. Especially when he says things like "You are heavy laden,not with burdens. Not with troubles, but with God's grace. You are heavy laden with God's favor.You only have to give God permission to flood you with blessings." This statement reminded me of another unexpected source of insight, Creflo Dollar. Weird right. But I once heard him say to his congregation "God's grace is already there. Forgiveness is done. All it is for you to do is to take ownership of what God has already done." This I know, God is limitless. The atonement is already done, which means healing is done, forgiveness is done, love is already there and available. By not accepting the blessings, love and healing that is already made for us, we are limiting God. By not owning the things provided us, we are denying the love God gave us through His son. I find myself doing this very thing in many areas of my life. In the words of Joel Osteen "You walk in God's grace. You are showered with His favor. Why do you deny Him the great pleasure of blessing you with greatness?"

Bread Brain

For almost a whole month, my work has been on hiatus. This has made me very very bored. After a few out of boredom melt downs, I made bread. And have been making bread. Lots of bread. Sometimes the man even makes bread. We have gone from eating no bread at all to 2 loaves a week. What a joy. My mouth is watering just waiting for the fresh loaves to get out in about 2 minutes. But really, is there anything better than fresh baked bread smothered in home made jam? Oh that's right, we made jam too. Just call me Laura Ingles.