One of the best features of it is the ability to stay and be so connected to everyone. I can check-in places on yelp and Facebook. I can update my status and post photos. It is so fun. I love being able to carry my music everywhere. I am no longer embarrassed to use my phone.

I am also hoping it will help me blog more. I downloaded the wordpress app and am hoping It will help me not to feel obligated to write novels or wait for giant inspiration and instead be happy with small inspirations to share. We will see.

In the mean time I’m going to go download some more apps.

I’m incredibly grateful for it. It’s been a bit since I’ve had a meaningful job. This job could really be something. Not only is it in my field (marketing) it’s working for an organization I whole-heartedly support. It’s awesome, but it’s also new. Newness scares me. New means unfamiliar. New means uncertainty. New means unknown expectations. This generally sends me into a frenzy of perfectionism wanting to know everything I can before I can move forward. I let it make me a micro-manager and doubt. Not a good space.

However, I don’t have that luxury now. This organization is launching a new program in 8 weeks or so and I am the center of it, the hub that has been given both the responsibility and the authority for a smooth launch. Yes. New is frightening.

I was working myself up into quite the lather earlier this week while talking to my brother. In my stress I was critical, negative, and awfulizing. He made an interesting statement that has really made me think, he said, “you have to operate from a new place.”

When stressed we tend to regress. It brings out our worst. We actually become the worst versions of ourselves, if we let it. I have done a lot of work on my wounds and worts through therapy, prayer ministry, with gracious friends and lots of reflection. I can honestly say I’m not the same person I was 10 years ago, 5 years ago and by the grace of God even 6 months ago. So my worst has gotten better, but its still not a good place to live from.

I have learned to let go. I have learned to extend grace. I have learned to love and forgive above it all. Yet in moments of high stress this all diminishes and can disappear. It takes a conscious effort to operate from this place of peace, of compassion, of healing. And yet I know the person I hurt the most is me. I am so self-critical. I am so unkind to myself in these moments. The conversations I have with myself are ones I would never even dare to say to anyone else, I would be appalled. It’s no wonder I awfulize.

But I am new. This experience is new. These people are new. I have to speak my identity to the circumstance. I have to be the new me in stress, not the old me.

I have to remind myself of that over and over some days. I can be performance driven. What other people think of me still matter too much. Yet I am capable. I am intelligent. I am organized. I am creative. I am fun to work with. I am dedicated. I am committed. These phrases are more productive than the other tapes in my head. If I come from the new place I can be more productive, more available and more vulnerable to do a great job and stay sane. And who knows I might have fun.

I just laughed it off. After all, Jordy does not have a problem with his self-esteem. He is a star and he’ll tell you so. But later I was telling Mike, my brother/Jordy’s dad, about it and he said something that has stuck with me. He said, “Don’t you wish we had the sense to do that in our lives, to refuse to accept what other people say about us that isn’t what we know to be true.”

Imagine if you could dismiss all the negative things people say about us that cause shame, embarrassment, humiliation, hurt feelings, and fear by simply refusing to accept them.  Words like: You’re incapable. You’re dumb. You’re ridiculous. You’re ugly. You’re unworthy. You can’t do it. You’re won’t succeed. You’re not good enough. Even the things others say in jest that are only funny to them. You know the words spoken to you that make you retreat, doubt, question, feel insecure, and unable to pursue your dreams.

But the great thing is, we can refuse them. It takes a mind shift from letting others define who are to an internal shift knowing our worth is defined by God. Jordy knows who he is, at the ripe old age of 10, he is sure. He knows he’s awesome. If we let anyone other than God determine who we are it is inauthentic.  When we believe them and begin to repeat the negative messages back to ourselves we start to self-abuse and self-sabotage because we are operating from a place that isn’t our own, it isn’t who we were created to be. This is why we feel lost and confused.

We have to identify and speak to the lie to remove it. God spoke to the night and created light. He told Moses to speak to the rock. Because there is power in our words. We are creators with God. What are we using our mouths to build? This ties into observations I had while watching Finding Sarah about how she had to find her center, her truth. We all have to do this. It is a hard journey. Apparently I need more on this topic because it keeps coming up for me.

It took therapy, great friends and the gentle prodding of the Holy Spirit for me to face the lies I believed. Years of negative, hurtful experiences, abusive situations, and wrong relationships left me fragmented and unsure. I was insecure. I had to learn to see myself in a new light, draw boundaries and replace the tapes in my head that said I was a myriad of awful things – unimportant, worthless, a mistake, and generally unworthy. I believed every one else instead of the still, small voice in my heart that said – I created you unique, special and with a purpose. I love you. I want you to be whole. I want you to be part of what I’m doing.

It’s been a journey. I’ve gotten rid of some of those negative messages and others still linger or rear their ugly heads on occasion. What if I just stop accepting them. What a thought? Rather than rationalize them, justify them, therapize them or even examine them maybe the answer when they start entering my head is to just say - No, I am not unworthy, I am chosen. When you have identified the lie why entertain it?

That is a simple question that I generally over complicate. It boils down to controlling your mind and thoughts. 

Recently I had a difficult conversation with someone who triggers these old, negative words and associations for me. In the middle of it I had to tell myself that I do not accept those words about me. When I rejected the words the feelings associated with them went away. Amazing how that works. It had to be a conscious effort. My usual response is to absorb it all, take it in and then feel like general crap. This time I got to say no, “I’m awesome.”

It made me laugh, but I felt good. Thank you Jordy for the lesson. Doing this feels a bit mechanical and awkward but overtime I won’t even have to think about it. Yea for healthy habits.

Sarah Margaret Ferguson seemed to have it all. But she lost it and for the past 15 years she’s known more for scandal than being royal – topless photos, a divorce from her prince, ballooning and shrinking weight, amassing large amounts of debt, and trying to sell access to her former husband, Prince Andrew.

How could that happen? How could someone squander away their royalty, be so gullible, lost and seemingly crazy? It doesn’t make sense.

Because we didn’t have the whole story. Sarah’s life didn’t begin in the woods with singing birds and the perfect family, like Disney would have us believe princesses do. She was born a commoner, not royal. Her mother abandoned her for an Argentine polo player. So, she took solace in her horses. However, after her mother left, her father sold her most beloved horses and then she had no one. She grew up feeling unloved, unwanted and not belonging. She then married into a family that perpetuated those feelings on a grand scale.

Now at 51, in OWN‘s new reality show, Finding Sarah, she is stopping to really answer core questions like, who am I? It has been a hard look at bad habits, wrong thought patterns, and ignored emotional baggage from her childhood. She has lived in constant chaos, drama and self-sabotage because of these things. Her worst life choices are born because she doesn’t know her own worth, even though she had the formal title of Duchess. The show is an interesting portrait of a life undiscovered in spite of all opportunity. I am learning a lot.

This last week one of the coaches on Sarah’s journey took her to participate in equine therapy. I have heard of art therapy and using horses for the disabled but not for emotional work. Sarah’s horse has a trusting issue. In order for him to respond to Sarah she has to find her center and operate from her own truth, otherwise he would run from her. It sounds crazy but I saw it. He could read her energy. If she entered the corral with fear and distrust that would repel him. Instead she had to start from a place of truth and trust, then he would follow her. Then she was in control of the situation.

The real test came when they introduced the horse’s biggest fear, plastic bags. At the sight and sound of a rustling plastic bag he would run, neigh and whinny in terror. However, the beauty of horses is that his trainer through their own strength of character can extend a new perspective to the horse and he will “forget” his fear. He is then able to see his fear from his trainer’s perspective.

When Sarah approached him in peace, calmly and from her true center he could read that and endure the presence of the plastic bag. The longer she stayed in that place the more he “overcame” his fear. The key was her not being drawn into his drama. She did not enter into his drama. Sarah is no afraid of plastic bags, so she could teach him not to be. When she was true to herself he could sense that and be changed by it. He learned to see the plastic bag as she did, a non-threat.

A light bulb went off in my head. What is the truth about who I am? When I operate from that place in my life then I can draw appropriate boundaries. Then I am not drawn into the chaos and drama around me. The principle seems so simple. But how often are we sucked into everything going on around us, then it affects our mood, our day, our actions and sometimes it’s so big it alters our lives. How can we not let this affect us to the point of stress or destruction? Our lives can be dictated by everything happening around us instead of what we know to be true.

We have to know who we are? We have to radiate from our integrity and truth. I know that I am loved, because God loves me. He gives me an identity that provides the framework for my life. This love, as I allow it, begins to override the negative things spoken over me.

Dr Phil told Sarah that we are born blank slates and the first people to write on those slates is our parents. If they did not ”write” affirming, encouraging, life building things on that slate creating  a healthy, solid sense of self then we believe we’re worthless, unloved, and unwanted, etc (Fill in the blank of the negative things said about you.) However, he said the real crime is when we, as adults, rewrite those same things about ourselves. It cements those things in our hearts, minds and souls. It is then that we become those things because they have been internalized. We have decided that we ARE those awful things.

What lies do you believe? I had to stop and ask myself that question. What untruths from my childhood do I still hold onto and how is it affecting me today. Do I self-sabotage? I think I do. Sometimes I’m even afraid to try. I wonder if I’m more afraid of success than failure because failure feels certain. So if I believe I’m a failure then I will be. This becomes the blueprint of my life. If I believe I’m unloveable then I will project that and engage with people who treat me that way.

But if I allow the fullness of the love of God to be real to me, how does that change who I am? How does he see me? I am his beloved. He chose me. He loves me. He died for me. He created me in his image. He was the first one to write on my slate, he wrote “mine.” He wrote “daughter, princess, beautiful, and wanted.” These are the building blocks of my identity, not the things spoken over me by others. He defines who I am. He determines my worth. And he has said I am worth it all. He comes to find me when I am lost. He wants to spend time with me. He loves me more than I can ever comprehend.

He is my center. When I see the world from his perspective I am unafraid. He exposes the lies. He removes all fear. I am safe because of his love. Now I am ready to move out into life.

What happens when you sit still and listen for the voice of God to whisper how he sees you. Can you hear past the “tapes” of your parents, teachers, spouse and family? His is the still, small, voice waiting to come to the forefront. He is waiting for your attention to help you rewrite your identity.

It is hard work to get past the junk. But imagine what can happen as the transforming journey begins. It’s beyond accomplishments. It’s not about performance. It is about the quiet confidence and assurance that comes when you know you are loved.  When we can move from a place of love we will change and then change the world. When I live in the quiet whispers I don’t fear, I don’t worry, I don’t stress. I can quietly breathe in the sweet, calming peaceful presence of love. It’s worth it.

As you can see, one thing he is not, however, is humble. The boy does not suffer from any insecurity or lack of confidence. From the time was about two he would announce that he was a star. Out of left field he would remind you, “I’m a star.” Why was he a star? Because he is the chosen one. Oh yea, did I forget to mention that is his other claim to fame. It too arrived at the same time as his pronouncement of stardom. He has no fear. He isn’t intimidated. He is just Jordy, the chosen star.

Just last week we were at the park watching a flush of ducks be chased by two toddlers. They were all atwitter and trying to escape. Six got away by hopping in the nearby lake. It was three big ducks and three baby ducks. The majority of them were black and white and one lone baby duck was yellow. We were all quiet just watching them swim around when Jordy casually observes, “Look at the yellow baby duck, he’s golden just like me.” He doesn’t stay around to see the effect of his statement he gets up off the bench and walks away. In his mind he is just stating facts, he is without exaggeration or embellishment a bright shiny, golden, star.

What is he chosen for? One day after his random announcement I decided to ask him and he said, with the same resolve and infinite certainty of its veracity, “to take over the world.” You can’t argue with that. He just might.

I didn’t watch the first few seasons because I thought Gene Simmons was an affront to all women and humanity in general. A notorious womanizer who boasts about 4,000 faceless women he’s slept with. He is obsessed with the acquisition of money and will generally prostitute himself to get more. Everything has a price and he’ll sell it to make more. He has declared emphatically that he is a self-made man that needs no one, wants to be accountable to no one and won’t be told what to do.

I was shocked at how human this series made him. He has been with Shannon (though unfaithfully) for  27 years. He has two children he adores, Nick and Sophie. When he chooses to be available, he is an amazing father. He loves them so much but he holds back. He sees being a provider as all he needs to do, that replaces the emotional needs he is unable to meet. He shows love through his money. He doesn’t have more to give them. He can’t give them what they want, more of himself. He routinely misses key events in their lives like graduations.

I enjoy watching their lives and getting a different perspective on “the Demon.” Everyone has at least two faces, who you are at work isn’t always who you are at home, with friends vs family, etc. Can never judge someone based on one side of their personality.

This season Gene and Shannon’s relationship is showing its age and flaws. The kids are off at college. Shannon gets fed up with all of the girls, his general absense in their lives and realizes she has to make some hard choices. At one point she moves out (and back in) but has to ask if Gene will ever be able to be what she needs. Can he overcome himself and his past enough to be truly available?

In the middle of all this Gene is selected by his hometown of Haifa, Israel to receive an award and he travels back for the first time in 53 years. While he’s there Shannon arranges for him to visit his old neighborhood, home and interact with his half brothers and sisters whom he has never met. While he’s there Gene is forced to confront the reality of his past.

Gene hated his father, in his mind he abandoned him and his mother. The history he knew was that because of his father’s absense his mother was forced to work and he was left alone. The rift between them is deepend when his mother moves them to America at 8, he never saw his father again. He knew where he was and provided for him financially there was little communication and no relationship. In this trip, through the eyes of his siblings Gene learns that he had the wrong picture of his father. He was viewing him as a child. He has harbored the emotions and thoughts of a child throughout adulthood for the whole situation.  He remained stubborn in these feelings and refused to meet his family and heal. During this visit he got a letter his father wrote to him long ago that he never sent.

As he reconnects with his family you can see the face of a little boy who was so lonely and is now finding home. As he embraces them he is able to move beyond himself to a bigger picture of who he is. Perhaps as he explores these relationships maybe he will be able to let go of the rigidity that prevents him from connecting fully to Shannon, Nick and Sophie. It now really makes sense about why he couldn’t committ to Shannon in marriage. The void, abandonment and loneliness of a little boy was holding him hostage. I can’t wait to see what happens!

This reminds me that wherever we refuse to forgive we are imprisoned and our maturity is stunted. How many situations are we viewing with childish eyes? Is this limited understanding born out of anger, fear, loss of control, loneliness, etc? I think the keys to identifying these places are to look at where we are legalistic. Am I irrationally holding onto a set of rules that don’t really serve a purpose? Are there powerful emotions attached to the rules that reveal a deeper wound? There is a huge difference between boundaries and unnecessary emotional rigidity. One is healthy emotional protection and the other makes us more isolated and lonely even when those who love us most want to connect.

Erika is stuck in one dead-end job after another. After getting fired, again, her family subjects her to yet another “pep-talk” that goes no where. It just makes her more frustrated, she knows she’s in a rut. She knows she should be more. She knows her life isn’t working. She even goes as far as jumping out of her bedroom window to get away from their “encouragement.”

However upon her escape she meets a therapist who says he can help her find herself and fix her regrets, “results guaranteed.” Since she has nothing left to try she gives in. But she has no idea what she’s gotten herself into. This isn’t ordinary talk therapy. This “therapist” has the ability to send her back in time. She gets to and has to relive pivitol moments of her life that got her where she is today. Yikes, can you imagine. There are part of my life I do not need to see in 3-D again.

I do love stories about time travel. There is something romantic about it. It also gives a sense of redemption. When you can go back to right what went wrong, gain understanding and clarity, you can recover what you lost and find a new perspective on yourself. For Erica, going back as an adult helps her see what was going on that she couldn’t see with her childish eyes and heart. Sometimes the choices she made the first time around are validated and it gives her more confidence.

I think that was the first thing I learned from her. One of her big regrets in college was whimping out of the intiation to join Literati, a secret society on campus. She was one of the few asked to pledge that year and after a brutal first assignment, requiring her to trash the competition in a verbal assault, she felt uncomfortable and left. She saw it as a failure that prevented her from getting ahead in her life. Erica thought if she could go back and go through with it she’d have more options.

So Erica went back to the day of her invitation to join and got to re-write her history. She was ready to kill in the first and all other rounds of initiation and she did. She made it. She was in. Then she learned that Literati published an unofficial slam paper everyweek and to stay in the group she had to dig up dirt they could publish.

Fixated on future goals she did, on her best friend’s girlfriend, knowing it could destroy her relationships. She became the worst version of herself to fit in with them. So for the second time she decided to quit Literati. Her instincts were right. She wasn’t meant to be a part of that group. It wasn’t going to help her become who she wanted to be.

Quitting twice didn’t radically change her life. She was still stuck but more sure of herself. It gave her confidence that she was true to her values and her beliefs. This also ties into the notion that there is a story God is weaving through our lives. The choices we make contribute to or distract from that story. How in touch with are with this narrative really depends on how in touch we are with God and ourselves.

That seems very philsophical but it really helped me take stock in my life in a different way. I have lots of regrets and wonder what I missed out on because of choices made. But if I could go back and re-do it would I end up making the same decision again? Maybe, maybe not.

But if I look at a string of decisions I’ve made. a picture does emerge about who I am and what I want. Sometimes the picture isn’t pretty, in my 20s it drove me to therapy. In my 30s what emerged was more of my true self, I was becoming more of who I wanted to be. Now the hard part is to stay true to my convictions and to have the courage to take necessary risks out of the new found sense of security.

I’m watching all three seasons of Being Erica, so I see more lessons forthcoming.

I’ve long believed that art is a fantastic way to express worship I just didn’t know how I could participate. I suck at painting and drawing. I want to be able to show my emotions, experiences, prayers and desires in living color. I have amazing landscapes and pictures in my mind. However, getting them out onto a paper is impossible. I can barely draw stick figures. I am in perpetual awe of people who can express themselves through art.

Over the past few years my photography has become a way for me to connect God. When I’m out taking photos I feel like I have a different perspective and one of my favorite subjects is nature. My favorite lens is the macro. I love getting down to the nitty gritty examining everything up close. I suppose that reveals a lot about my nature as well. I am an analytical, nitty gritty kind of person.

Yet there is something about the ability to create your art with your own hands, through your imagination, creating something from nothing. I believe that just as God is a creator, so are we. He gave us that gift so we can connect with him.  I love color and to color. I get excited with a new box of crayons. A few years ago I met a friend through my blog that introduced me to a new form of art, mixed media. She is amazing. Her art includes drawing, painting, photos, cards and so many other pieces that she brilliantly pulls together to create something so beautiful and unique. I am in perpetual awe of what she can do.

One time I even won a contest on her blog and received a pack of materials to use to create my own works of “art.” I sat and looked at the pieces and had no idea what to do. It was anything but spiritual a better metaphor would be constipation. I just couldn’t express anything. So all of the beautiful pieces remain just that, pieces in a box, mocking me. I have a longing in my soul to be creative and to connect with God in that way. I think it could be powerful and liberating, but why can’t I do it?

So I’m excited about spiritual doodling. Doodling I can do. I have been a life-long doodler. It’s how I concentrate. In meetings at work people knew I was paying attention if I was drawing squiggles on my paper. It was how I stayed present and focused. If I didn’t I was daydreaming. Through college the margins of all my notes are full of  doodles of trees, flowers, squiggles, and initials. Maybe that’s why I love gel pens, they glide so effortlessly across the page as I color in my streams of consciousness.

There is no pressure in a doodle. No one is going to see it but me. No one is going to judge it. I don’t have to be perfect. What I create doesn’t have to be perfect. Aaah. Perfectionism. My former line of work, marketing, is creative yet what you produce has to sell a product. The rational side of my brain argues that the marketing work isn’t personal, it’s work. But the work is my creation. The copy, art direction, and ideas are mine. They are an expression of me, how I think, how I see the world. When they are rejected I feel rejected. I don’t have a thick skin. It often feels too risky to me to be 100% open.

Let the “art” be a free-flowing prayer that no one ever has to see (hidden between you and God). – Miller

I like it! I can do that! I went and retrieved my crayons and colors pencils from storage along with an empty journal. I’m ready. I think. Luckily Miller includes some opening exercises to stimulate expression.

ACTIVITY 1: Take a few moments to draw a picture of your spiritual journey. Perhaps you may want to use a poster board for this. Consider the following questions: What color is my faith journey? Has the path been straight, upward moving, or circuitous? Where am I on the path? Where is God, my family, my friends? What does the environment of my faith path look like?

ACTIVITY 2: Consider negative components of your life (rejection, disregard, disconnection, death to dreams). Draw an image of the way God could turn the negativity into something good (rejection to acceptance, disconnect to connection, loss to growth). As you create, consider: What does it look like for God to work all things for good in my life? What shape, what colors, what space is needed for God’s transformative redeeming work?

These are the two I’m going to start with. We’ll see what happens. We’ll see if I can stick with it. Generally I get stuck and give up. Will this work help me to connect with God or just be another exercise in futility and frustration?

Miller also offers a word of caution that might help: As we explore, remember that the value is in connecting with the Creator, not in the creative experience alone. It’s not about me and what I can produce, it’s about the connection that is created. This isn’t a work that is validated only in as much as it serves as a vehicle for communication between me and God. The doodling makes me brain slow down so I can stay in the moment and stay connected to what he is showing or telling me. It will be divine doodling.

For the past six months I have been working a menial job. Yes, it is with some shame that I  admit I have been working in retail. Yes, it was that bad. I worked in a woman’s clothing store. I had to kiss ass, measure sweaty old ladies for bras, and sell credit cards. Some of the things I have had to do still make me shudder and long for my happy place.

While it’s not been my favorite job there have been some surprisingly redeeming aspects to it. I have learned a lot about myself that I don’t know I would have learned anywhere else. For instance, I am shocked to learn that in spite of it all I am a people person. I actually like people. Who knew? Not I! As a certified introvert being forced to put on a happy face everyday did threaten to send me into a straightjacket on occassion but overall I enjoyed a lot of our customers. We had regulars that I got to know and looked forward to their visits. My favorite was a mexican customer that started bringing me home cooked meals when she learned I grew up in Mexico and missed the food. 

I especially enjoyed helping people and participating in the preparation for special moments of their lives. Some of those moments were fun – going on cruises/vacations, attending a wedding, girls weekend to Vegas, and first dates. I also got to help dress women who were battling illness, suffering a death of a loved one, going to court, overcoming cancer and who’d lost significant amounts of weight.

Amazing how customers would open up over a dress, pretty blouse or while shopping for bras. I became their best friend for a few hours as I trapsed all over the store to find them the perfect outfit or accessory. I heard their stories. Sometimes we cried and I got lots of hugs. I loved it.

It wasn’t always a kum-ba-yah fest. Some people are just asses, feel entitled, treat salespeople like dirt, bring children in that trash the store, steal, demand illegal deals and pee on the floor in the bathroom. Kid you not. It’s not all glamorous and full of warm fuzzies. LOL.

I also enjoyed the people I worked with. We laughed a lot. I’m not gonna lie, sometimes we laughed at people. It happens, can’t help it. Sometimes people forget they are in public and other people can see them. But mainly we laughed to make a tedious job fun. We had to do something, our district manager was breathing down our necks to sell more credit in not so nice terms. If you didn’t make your goal then you were officially labeled  a “bottomfeeder” by the company, seriously. This is how they motivated you, by publishing quarterly rankings with fun titles.

Even as I wax on poetically about the experience I’m not sad that particular chapter of my life is over.  I’m looking forward to what is next but am grateful for the perspective that it provided.