Awakening - Serendipity at Church

As most people realize, religion is a large part of the South. Many around my local area laughingly say, "We are in the buckle of the Bible Belt." They are not far from the truth, and my own religious roots are very deep. That said, I will warn you in advance that this post is religious in nature. I would love to share my views with you, but if you are going to be offended or feel it necessary to make derisive comments then you may wish to read another post instead. I like to keep this blog open but happy and drama-free.

It sometimes amazes me how we sometimes end up making random decisions here and there during a day, and by the days end we see how all these things were actually connected to help us move to a new point in our life. Some people refer to it as "serendipity" - finding happy discoveries along the way or making valuable discoveries by accident (essentially, a happy accident). I look at it as God's bigger picture and better plan. Let me explain what happened to me yesterday.

Recently, we have not been attending church regularly. We do have a nice church (for you locals, it is Crosspoint and we love it!) and our children enjoy going there. This past weekend, our youngest (the Chick) was quite excited to go. In fact, she jumped up early on Sunday morning and got completely dressed all by herself (she is 5). She ran around waking up everyone else, even though we weren't going to the early service - we had plans to meet friends at the 11:00AM service.

We finally got to church, and the sermon was entitled AWAKEN: The Lord Restores. It was based on Joel 2:18-27, which essentially about God speaking to His people about how he would restore them and they must have faith and follow His way. At the time, they were facing a vast, barren, dry desert and he told them how they would face enemies from the North (I snickered at that one thinking of the Civil War, but I digress). He told them he would remove the enemies and then He would restore his people. He promised them food, told them they would eat plenty. He promised them peace with Him in their midst. Our minister went on to apply this to our daily lives, and how God will use anything in our lives that has broken us in order to bring us closer to Him so that He may restore us. Our minister reminded us that when God makes a promise such as this, it is as good as done. In order to feel the healing and be restored, we must repent and put our total faith in God alone. He specifically pointed out issues with marriages in crises, work problems or other relationship issues.

As we left, I was thinking of something that had been heavy on my heart and soul recently: clutter. While in church, of course I prayed about our family, my own marriage (it could use improvements), and other unspoken needs - nothing about clutter. I never would dream of praying about something so materialistic. I mean, really. If I am going to go to God about my clutter, it would be better to just get rid of it, right? Why as Him to solve it? Or so I thought.

I was talking with my girls (my hubby stayed home) about cleaning up our house. We are very cluttered (think a few months away from a TLC reality show), and it alternates between not being able to stand it to not being able to part with some of the things. I have also been extremely depressed lately. Now, I subscribe to FlyLady (for more on her, just click her name). You would think I would be able to put all this together, but I just feel overwhelmed and having a pack rat DH (dear hubby) makes it a little worse. So, I sit on my Franny and get more depressed, which just adds more body clutter, which makes my marriage more difficult, and so the cycle continues. So, here I surrounded by prosperity and moping at my barren surroundings. (I think I just found a new definition of crazy - there's that serendipity thing again.)

They also want to make changes and have things look nicer, and I know how a fresh coat of paint will help liven things up. Anyone who knows FlyLady can already see where this is headed (and yes, I do keep a shiny sink, dressed to the shoes and bed made every single day). We choose to paint the kid's bathroom, because as all my visitors know it is a train wreck - typically a moldy one at that. They go to scrub it down, and I explain to my DH how we are going to clean up but also pain their bath. He is all on board with this, and approves my little adventure to Lowe's as long as I don't go crazy spending too much. I also had to run by Wal-Mart for a few essentials (a weekly run for milk and eggs).

A couple of hours and a hundred dollars later, I am home. In the meantime, he has had to discipline the kids who stayed home (a teenager and Chick). They had to clean up several large messes they had created, which made him rather ill (on top of a bad back he had strained earlier in the week). We also had a new desk to move into our bedroom replacing his computer hutch. The desk was sitting in the garage and difficult to walk around. For some reason, he flipped his lid with me. I stayed rather calm, he yelled a lot (including calling me names which will require much groveling to this Southern Lady in the weeks to come). He screamed about spending the money, painting a bath they will only mess up, too much clutter which became his mission of the day. In fact, he started pitching all sorts of things into his truck to haul off. He went a little far with that, and also yelled that I needed to get rid of all my books (I do need to thin them out).

After all was done, he did calm down and I think (or perhaps I hope) he realized he went too far with some of it. But I realized, all of it came from clutter. He and I both had recently visited the most beautiful, welcoming home that was free of clutter and tastefully decorated. It was easy to clean, obviously, because there was not much TO clean or clean around (mental note to self: ask if she knows FlyLady). I kept thinking about that home, and I think he did too. All of his frustration, all of my frustration, all of it came from clutter. I could never quite do the FlyLady questions of "does this make you happy" and so forth. When I reframed those questions, it became clear: "is this item worth more than your marriage? is this item worth yelling and screaming? is this item worth chaos for my precious girls?" I think most times the answer is no. If it is close to yes, then it won't cause those problems because it is truly special and worth keeping. A few of those things are fine.

I realized our family suffers from a terrible syndrome: toomuchness. Too much stuff = clutter. Too much time = laziness (we think we have time to do it so we procrastinate). I am not letting that happen any longer. Last night I cleaned out one whole corner of my bedroom, and I completed two tasks that I had been putting off for months. I am actively writing my blog again (something I haven't done since last year), and I am working on a book about my experiences as a stepmother in a high conflict custody dispute.

By the end of the day, I realized how God used something in my life (my marriage and family) to show me how barren and empty everything is (even though I am surrounded by more things I will ever use). When I submitted to him through prayer that morning, and when I chose to place total faith in Him (once again), He used my current state to open my eyes to the clutter and how to fix that problem. I had seen it. I had known it was an issue. I had the tools from FlyLady. I just chose to procrastinate and ignore it - to the detriment of my marriage. For some reason today I feel free to toss and give. I have already released almost thirty pounds of clutter. And I know once I release the house clutter, the body clutter will also start to disappear.

I also realized how much I have been praying about my life. I have been terrified of change, and last night I realized I am not as terrified. I stood up and demanded respect in a calm, assertive tone. I realize God is working in my life to make me stronger and wiser. As I have prayed, nothing has been happening but God has been listening. Perhaps He has even sent me signs I chose not to see. Yesterday morning, my youngest daughter ensured I did not miss church and I definitely heard a message meant for me to hear. I have prayed for restoration in all areas of my life. Later, I saw how that connected with other things weighing me down only to witness one of the things mentioned specifically in our sermon. I see hope and promise. This is what our pastor spoke about when he said to be glad of the trials for they will bring the restoration.

I Think I Know Them!

I recall reading (or maybe it was watching an interview) one time about that wonderful Southern writer Fannie Flagg, author of Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe. She said she was watching a pageant on TV and talking to another Southern friend on the phone, who was also watching the pageant. Someone they though they knew came on, and Ms. Flagg mentioned how Southern women always end up saying things like "Isn't that Essie Smith of the Birmingham Smiths?" Or something to that effect.

This is so true, as I was reminded last night. Southern women are always making those connections. It's even become our family joke, since the kids have learned if they mention a name then I ultimately know that person or their family somehow. It's always bad tidings when I say "Is his Momma named Sue (or Betty, or Mary, etc.)?" - at least bad tidings in the eyes of the kids.

Some people might say that Southern women don't have a monopoly on this trait. Maybe not anymore, if you look at the growing interest in family trees and genealogy. However, Southern women turned that into an art form decades ago, with genealogy both familial and social.

So I am reading a book on my Kindle called Death Trap by M. William Phelps. I absolutely love true crime stories and murder mystery or suspense books. This one looked interesting as it was a death that presumably resulted from a custody dispute between a man and his ex-wife. Being a stepmother to four children and witnessing first hand a high conflict custody dispute. I have even known what it was like to wonder if one day she would "snap" and end up trying to hurt or even kill us. So, this book immediately looked interesting.

The story pulled me in right away with the ex-husband and his current wife (Alan and Terra Bates) missing and probably dead.  The book alternated with the investigation at where the bodies were located (Georgia), the family homes where the Bates were expected (Alabama), and the history of the exes (Alan Bates and Jessica McCord) and their conflicted relationship. About 40% of the way through the book, the author gave us the history of Terra Bates. I was surprised to see that her "formative years were spent in Clemson, South Carolina." Now, this is my hometown so it immediately rang a bell.

I double checked the parent names: Joe Klugh and Jan Gillespie (they had divorced and her mother remarried). Realizing she was born Terra Klugh, and her father was Joe Klugh I suddenly realized these were very familiar names. And thus my "Fannie Flagg" moment, repeated often times throughout any true Southern girls' life, was started. After a quick check, I put together that Joe Klugh was the son of Ed and Maureen Simpson. Naturally that led to a phone call with my mother, who said, "Why yes! The Simpsons were best friends with your grandfather, and you met them several times. You need to come talk to your Daddy tomorrow about them." I did recall that Mrs. Simpson worked for Dr. Hunter, who saw my grandparents for years.

Once I told Momma how I got interested, she said, "I need to make some calls tomorrow and find out more about this."Long before Facebook and other social networking, Southern women used the telephone to connect and check information. In fact, there have always been three modes of communication: telephone, telegraph, and tell a Southern woman.

Like I said to my husband last night after I hung up with Momma, "Ain't that the South for ya?"

Making a Transformation

There are many different kinds of Southern girls (and we are all girls whether we are 9 or 90). Watching just a handful of movies will prove this, from Steel Magnolias to Ya-Ya Sisterhood to Gone With The Wind. I decided earlier this year that my version needs a transformation. I want to keep all those wonderful Southern things about me, and even rediscover some those things that I've lost over the years. Mainly I want to be a healthier person for my family, and that requires facing some issues in my past.

Part of my transformation is a 28-Day Breaking Free program, developed by Leanne Ely and JJ Virgin. You can read more about it at the website Saving Dinner.  So, I am now on Day Two (officially) of that program. It's been tough, and there was a point today when I wasn't sure if I would make it.

My oldest stepson turned 19 today, and he came by for some birthday cake. I knew I wasn't strong enough to cook and ice one at home so I just picked something up at the local bakery. It was chocolate decadence - a dark brown, moist chocolate cake topped with a cream cheese and chocolate fudge icing, and then a thin layer of chocolate ganache swirls to decorate. It was all I could do to resist, but I did it! I managed to get through serving and chit-chatting while everyone else indulged. When I did start to feel resistance crumble, I satisfied my need by crunching on about one ounce of almonds. They crunched and gave off a slightly sweet but almost salty flavor which completely took away the desire to devour chocolate cake.

Perhaps in some way I am breaking free from more than food. I feel like I am breaking free from the hold that food has held over me for so long. It wasn't so much denying myself tonight, which I have done through all too many other diets. Tonight it was more liberating, knowing I had a choice. I then made the choice that was best for my body and found something else that really did satisfy. I think in the past I obsessed over what I couldn't have and ended up cheating myself. I couldn't concentrate on anything else with the "can't have" crowding my brain. Tonight, that changed. Rather than a "diet", I am doing something for 28-Days. I realized in less than a month I can walk in there and order a whole cake all for myself if I want to do it. That realization gave me the freedom to walk away and the open space in my brain to think of alternatives. In that sense, it became easier.

I also think that it goes deeper. The main feeling or emotion was that of loss and fear of not having something. I realized I had looked at things from the perspective of "if I choose not to eat this, I won't ever be able to have it again." And somewhere along the way, I think I have made that same association about other things in my life. For the first time in this whole process, I think I am finally seeing signs of a real transformation. I can't wait to find my grits and gardenias girl again.

Of Grits and Gardenias

These are two of my favorite things and can be found in one of my very favorite Southern cities: Charleston, SC. I absolutely love this city - for it's southern charm, for the warm family memories it holds, for the romance that my marriage could use right now. Gardenias are wonderfully fragrant, and I fell in love with them for the first time walking the streets of Charleston. At that point, they became quintessentially Southern for me - and yes, that is Southern with a capital "S" which is different (more classically southern, or heck just more southern in general) than the one with the little "s". I now have gardenias growing in my own garden (upstate South Carolina), in which one whiff can take me back to my Southern roots in a heartbeat.

As far as those grits are concerned, how much more Southern can you get? Grits are a wonderful food, where you can enjoy them solo with a good dose of butter (real butter, not futter - fake butter) and salt (particularly sea salt). When I have an upset stomach, basic grits with butter and salt always make me feel better. Actually, when I am sick with a cold or anything at all they seem to work their magic.

When I am feeling a little more "uppity", grits make a good companion to a large assortment of other goodies. When in Charleston, it's old-fashioned "Shrimp and Grits" especially when served at the Palmetto Cafe in Charleston Place. When home at my parents' house, it is sometimes a nice slice of country ham on the side and a little red-eye gravy over the top of the grits. Sometimes it just makes a nice soothing side dish to a hot and spicy mix of hot sausage and scrambled eggs with salsa.

In these ways, grits and gardenias remind me of Southern women - again that capital "S" is quite deliberate. Grits, which is sometimes explained as "Girls Raised In The South", are a staple food - wholesome, filling, and capable of being very independent which are all ways to describe Southern women. We are wholesome, filling and capable of being very independent - have you seen Steel Magnolias? However, Southern women, like grits, are also capable of blending perfectly into a variety of other elements and situations many times bringing a unique level of fun or just adding that little edge to combine all other elements into harmony. Gardenias can be heady and overpowering, which can sometimes be like the charm of a Southern lady. But we also know how to blend into the background providing an air of calm beauty that enlivens the air and makes a situation much more pleasant.

Perhaps that is how I see this blog as well. I will be describing my life as viewed from my own southern perspective. At times, it may be a little heady or overpowering for some readers but for others it might provide the perfect level of loveliness and beauty. At times, it might seem a little bland like plain bowl of grits but at other times it will be spicy and fun and full of life. Somewhere along the way I hope to find a little something to please a varied audience.