Time for a bath

We are getting baptized tomorrow. Yes, I will be getting my hair wet in front of the whole church! I know that's not what it's about, but I have to admit, I have fretted over this fact. And, as I assured my husband, when God is ready to address my vanity, I feel certain He will catch my attention and I will feel compelled to reconsider my current stance on this very public exposure. I guess, to a certain extent, God is addressing my vanity as we speak. Tomorrow, I am laying aside my desire to keep up a polished, groomed, and dry physical appearance and am proudly proclaiming my love and adoration for Jesus and His presence, leadership, and power in my life.

I was baptized as a baby, and I know that my parents were committing at that moment to teach me about Jesus. I know the community of faith they belonged to also committed to serving and loving me as Christ's body. I believe my parents have done what they promised to do. I have been taught about Jesus, His love, His gift, His forgiveness, and His power. Being provided opportunities to experience various denominations, I have seen the spirit move in each and every congregation. We have experienced the love and support of Christ across denominational boundaries and feel blessed to know Christ through His followers. Tomorrow, we will be baptized at Pioneer Drive Baptist Church. Though baptism by immersion is a part of the process of becoming a member of the church, it is by no means the process by which we have become Christians. Colin, Julia, Chris and I will each be baptized as a living testament of our love and commitment to Jesus Christ. It has been important to me for my children to know that baptism is not an insurance policy you purchase to go to heaven.

I have appreciated the way the church, its staff, and the pastor has educated and informed us on the process and the meaning of baptism. I held reservations, and they were deeper than my resistance to getting my hair wet. To me, I felt like baptism, was testifying to a new found decision, acknowledgement, or commitment to following Jesus. To me, that would negate the lifetime of experiences (thus far) that God has led and directed me through. It would be as if they weren't legitimate in some way. But, I do know that is not what baptism represents, and I have been so thankful that people, including my family have been patient with me as I have come to understand and learn how God uses and blesses through baptism.

Even having realized this, I have had reservations, a heaviness. Couldn't put words to the feelings. Still not sure I can. But, I think, in my effort to connect with the experience we are going through tomorrow, the past which holds rich meaning, and the future unknowns, I will try. In my mind, baptism seems like a very vulnerable experience. In the past, I have stood in front of congregations holding babies, holding hands with children, singing in services or ceremonies; all very public moments. But, I have also felt very demoralized, abandoned, and judged by the audiences, the faith bodies where I shared and served. Before anybody gets up in arms about this statement, inferring I am meaning you have done something to injure me, I know what I felt may not have been intentioned, and I know my reality is not necessarily the truth. It is what I felt, it is my reality, and it is in no way a statement on the love or commitment of congregations of any church we have belonged. My feelings were what they were, and they are what they are. I own them and I accept that my experiences had more to do with my own actions than any one's actions toward me. As I said, I don't know if I can put words to what I feel.

I sang on Palm Sunday in front of our new congregation, and then again on Easter. It was a relief to experience these moments without the anxiety that had become the norm when I sang in worship services. But, when we moved to the front of the congregation to be welcomed after we moved forward in faith to join the church, I was so anxious. Hand me a baby, let me chat with some children, or sing a song, and I will happily take the mic right out of your hand. But, have me stand, vulnerable, transparent, with all my flaws and mistakes seemingly fully exposed, and I am not signing up for that. I don't want my actions to be used against me in the future. "You're a Christian, and you're doing that?" "I thought being a Christian meant you weren't going to do that anymore." Nor do I want to see Satan rear its ugly head at my family because we are living testimonies of Christ's love and forgiveness.

Fear would like to take hold and inhibit me from being...ME. I don't want to offend, be found guilty, do the wrong thing, or hurt others. So, I would like to avoid putting myself in vulnerable situations that sometimes prove to do all that I don't want to do. I hurt because I speak. I offend because I don't think. I am guilty because I am human. I do the wrong thing because I am a sinner. Being me is who God created me to be. It's not who I am, because sin and darkness are the reality I have been born into. But, with His forgiveness, His love, His acceptance, I will continue to learn more about myself through Him and through others who serve Him. This may sound lofty. Let me assure you, I am a sinner. I have made mistakes, hurt people, made bad decisions, gone through darkness (even after accepting Christ in my life, in fact, maybe within the past hour), and struggle with the nature of who I am. My anxiety is most attributable to the fact that I have sinned and I am afraid. But, tomorrow, I am confident that God will make our baptisms just what He wants them to be. He will be there. I will show up, and I will trust in His love, forever, and always.

New Day

A new day has dawned. Osama Bin Laden is dead. It has been 10 years since our world changed in the blink of an eye, in the devastation of a nation. It's hard to imagine what it was like before September 11, 2001. After that fateful day, none of us looked into the air, heard a plane, or walked into an airport the same way again. If you have a memory of that day, you know that your life forever changed as you saw those buildings fall, as you saw pictures of the pentagon, or the field of flames in Pennsylvania. I don't know if we so readily can recall the other moments that change our lives. How many of us have different hearts and minds because of that one moment? But, how many of us have experienced pain, sorrow, joy, relief, love, and hate that maybe didn't get etched in our memory in a single moment of terror or excitement?

I know I have had moments, days, weeks, months and years of both pain and joy causing a transformation in my heart. I can't recall the day, or the exact moment, but I can recall colors of memories that mark an experience that forever changed my spirit. Often times, I recall the darkness of a time in my life which felt out of control, disorderly, confusing, frustrating, and heavy. I remember not being certain of who I was, or who was safe. I spent the time avoiding myself, avoiding others, and avoiding the anger I felt. Whole years of dark memories where glimpses of light peered through sporadically. Those lights were the people who showed God's love and acceptance when I didn't feel it about myself. My mom and dad who gave me everything they could and when I needed something else, they weren't too proud to ask for help. The lights were my friends and their parents. They cared for my heart and reminded me of the way God loves.

There is also the recent past where periods of light and wholeness has transformed my spirit. Thank you Jesus for giving me the people who are sources of your light and love. A year ago we were just beginning to see that God's plans for us were different that we understood them to be. God is like that you know. It's not as if we weren't following His lead. It's just that it took us a while to understand that He had changed our direction. We didn't get a memo, or a card in the mail. Neither did we receive a phone call, text, or fb message. We had to gauge from the decisions of others that we were no longer meant to continue where we were.

One might think that made for another period of darkness, confusion, unknowns. But, really, it was a time of brightness as we began to understand the vast network of support from friends and family. I was surprised to see some in our network of friends fall away. My heart does grieve these lost relationships, but more importantly, my heart is strengthened by those who love us even though we aren't as close. I also couldn't be more blessed than I am with the group of friends that God has laid in our path. I know my heart is being transformed by the brightness of this time in my life. I wish I could mark on the calendar the day that a light was shared. It seems that each day provides a new light, a new opportunity to explore the richness of God's gifts.

Though I don't know what the coming days will bring, I will know that along with each dark day, God provides days of light and freedom that only He can provide. He will use us to offer that to others. But, it is God who knows how to balance the darkness with light and goodness. His heart surely broke for his children on 9/11/2001. I imagine his heart is breaking today as he sees his children frolicking in hatred. I am trusting that joy and love will overshadow the darkness of these days. Some of us will have a transformational moment to mark on the calendar, and others of us will remember the people and the periods of time when light prevailed. I am not looking forward to the painful days ahead, but I am looking forward with hope that His light and love will flow freely through me and to me.

Thank you Jesus!

It's been so long since I have had a cohesive thought and the time to sit and write it down. I almost had myself convinced I was incapable of both, thinking and writing. But, on the eve of this last Friday in April, 2011, I attempt to formulate a thought and write it down. Don't get your hopes up that I say anything, but thank you for indulging me in this moment.

We live in Texas. I know this may come as news to some of you, and to be honest, I am still adjusting to the idea. But, we are Texans. It's crazy, isn't it. I am not sure we can really be considered Texans since we are transplants from the east coast and Midwest. But, I long for the day when my hair is as big as a native born Texan, and my cooking widens the waist line of all those who enter my home. Give me time, I will achieve both. Though the heat and wild fires might give you the impression we have moved into hell, God is alive and well in this little town in the big state of Texas.

I feel the past year has been full of more challenges and more sadness than I have ever remembered or care to relive. I don't want to test that, because I know struggles are real in each life, and some struggles cause more pain and suffering than I can begin to comprehend. What I am comprehending these days is how much God loves me. We moved to this town with all the love of family and friends that anyone could be lucky enough to have realized in a lifetime. Our hearts had been challenged by situations personal and professional, but there was never a question that we were supported by loving, loyal, and unyielding encouragers. Saying goodbye has never been easy for me, and leaving Bloomington, Illinois was no different. I am so glad that technology is a part of my life so I can maintain relationships even though I am hundreds of miles from friends and family.

I could never have imagined I would find a home so far from home. But, God could. He knew in the midst of the darkness I struggled in; as friendships died, my soul ached, and my family grieved, that within the year my husband would be thriving in his career and providing for us emotionally and financially. He knew my children would be fully engaged in school, church, sports, and the arts. He knew we would see them growing spiritually, emotionally, and physically. He knew I would be laughing with my friends, playing with children, singing songs, and rejoicing in His rich plans for my life. I wish I could show each of you how special and unique you each are in the landscape of my life and the life of my family.

For those of you who know the darkness I am referring to, I want you to know, I am breathing easily and fully. You know the days when I didn't want to get out of bed, when I was afraid to go to church, and when the tears overshadowed the laughter. You held my hand, kicked my butt, and absorbed the tears that I couldn't restrain. I wish you were here with me today friends. You would see a Rosie that is full of joy and energy. It isn't because I am not with you, but because I am where God wants me to be. For those friends who are now the blessed (or cursed) recipients of my family and all the chaos we wreak on those we love, God is pretty funny, isn't he? You didn't know last year that the Hollingsworths would be bumbling into town, with our big mouths, our unkempt cars, and our abundance of drama. But, you have wrapped your arms around us. Thank you.

Such healing has come from knowing that I can be loved and accepted, as I am. I know it is God who is healing my heart, but you have been such willing participants in the process. You, who listened to me cry about the broken relationship with my sister. You, who caught my heart before it was shattered by insult and anger. You, who held my hand as I tried to grasp my father's absence in this world. You, dear friend, who made me laugh about the irony of life. You, whose sarcasm and humor brought me into the moment and out of my ever darkening thoughts. You, who gave me a hug, brought me a diet coke, gave me a tea mug, a cup of coffee, some zucchini bread, a Cavender's hamburger, a holiday meal, a candle, a bar of lotion (which I seriously love), an uplifting text, a phone call, or fb post. It is you, and your generous acceptance and love that reminds me that there is a God who redeems and strengthens. There is such joy in knowing that God gives us just who and what we need, just when and how we need it. As I see the unfolding of the coming days, even the next few weeks, as seniors graduate and new adventures arise, it is with unashamed optimism and confidence that I proclaim the goodness of our great God, whose blessings are abundant, generous, and glorious for you and for me. Thank you Jesus.

Arkansas Awareness

It has been great getting away to Arkansas with the family. Though some initial hesitations created anxiety, I am happy to report that the visit has gone without incident and we all seem to be enjoying what the Bay has to offer. Quiet, respite, peace, outdoors, sounds of water hitting the shore, docks rocking in the river, an occasional motorized water vehicle, the birds singing, the 4 wheelers racing down the road, and the sound of trees brushing the branches of their neighbor. It is in these sounds and in the presence of a God who gives great gifts that I have had a opportunity to consider how He loves me and He calls me to love others. I can in no way articulate what He continues to teach me about my own heart. In my effort to care for others, I have often fallen short. In so doing, I have suffered the consequences of not being in line with God's desire and leading in my life.

Though forgiveness reconciles my heart to His, I have not been able to reconcile other relationships through forgiveness. Perhaps, the forgiveness I most desire is the forgiveness I need to extend to myself. In the weeping and grieving that took me to my knees, I begged for forgiveness from my God, from my community, from my dear friend and from her family and friends. I know God forgives me. It's His promise and His nature to maintain relationship and commitment to me throughout all the days of my life. It's that same promise He offers you. On our best days and our worst days, He wants nothing more than to reconcile brokenness and pain and extend grace and comfort. So much peace has come to my heart knowing that God will not punish me for my inadequacies. Even as others may question and find fault with who I am and who God created me to be, my God will love me and secure his loving arms of protection around me.

Forgiving myself has taken more soul searching than accepting God's forgiveness and accepting the lack of response and reconciliation from others. Realizing I have hurt some in ways that I never intended and can never repay causes my heart to burn with grief and sorrow. I wish so badly that I could go and lay these burdens at the altar of the hearts of those who have felt injured at my hand. Would I then be able to forgive myself? Maybe, if I work extra hard with my new relationships to prove that I am generous and kind, the forgiveness will be easier for me to accept. Or, if I can love someone with abundance and gentleness I will find myself worthy enough to forgive.

As much as I would like that to be the case, I don't believe my actions or lack thereof will ever be substantial enough to justify forgiveness to myself. Rather, I believe it is in complete and utter abandon of my own judgement that I will receive the forgiveness I desire. I can live the rest of my life feeling guilty and ashamed of who I was and what I have done. Or, I can honor the promises of God cleansing power and accept forgiveness on my own behalf. Not sure if I have waited so long to do this because I believe I should be punished by the plaguing guilt and sadness of loss and supposed abandonment. Or, maybe I just didn't know if others would think I didn't realize the enormity of my failure. Maybe, I just didn't see moving forward and opening my heart to sharing, loving and receiving was an option. The perseverance and reassurance of my close friends have been the life saving grace that God offered me over the past few years. It is their love and confidence in me as a person, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a wife, and a friend that made the difference between me withdrawing into my world of persecution and self destruction, and entering the world each day to be blessed by its offerings and potential.

Now, I find myself hearing these birds and breathing in the scent of the magnolia blossoms and beginning to accept that punishing, ridiculing, and accepting the lies is only keeping me from enjoying in fullness all that God offers me as gifts. The moment I claimed Him as my own, He accepted me, full of failure and darkness. But, He made me new. He continues to make me new each and every time I turn to Him and offer myself and ask for His cleansing power to wash away the darkness of my human heart. He agrees to do so, and I accept. Now, I have to be as willing to forgive myself so I can truly claim my inheritance as His daughter. What a testament it will be to walk boldly into each new moment knowing that all I have to offer and receive is offered with a full spirit and an open heart. No longer will fear or shame be a motivating factor in the choices I make to love and serve others.

It is with this hope and joy that I accept the gifts of friendships I have right here and now. Clinging to people and moments from the past in hopes of a door opening, a kind word spoken, a renewed, reconciled relationship have to be left alone and abandoned in order to receive what God is offering me right now. My joy cannot be contained in the hope I have for my family's future in this place. As often as I have apologized for past actions and decisions, I have in equal proportion been thankful for God's reminders of forgiveness and love as he strategically offers new relationships with amazing people. Never failing to pray for reconciliation and forgiveness, I willingly accept the offering of friendship and life this new time brings. Not rejecting the past or wishing it away, but thanking God for the past that brings me to today, I willingly and whole heartedly rejoice.

Sweet moment

Sweetest moment of my day...
Sweet little R., a new member to our class was crying at the start of nap time. She has done such a great job of meshing with the class. Just jumped right in and became a part of the group. She entertains the teachers with her very adult-like interactions, but doesn't seem to struggle to interact with the other children. But, nap time had her sad, missing her mommy. She was so precious, laying in her sleeping bag, with the covers pulled up right to her chin. When I saw her tears, I sat down on the floor next to her. I asked her if I could sit with her for awhile.

She nodded her little head, with tears streaming down her face. I reassured her that her mommy would be back. Then I wiped the tears from her eyes, and brushed the hair off her forehead. I whispered to her, "I think you are so brave.". I was struck in that moment how quickly we go from honoring the bravery of a young child who is strong enough to separate from her mommy for a few hours each day, to thinking that such sentimentality is a weakness. As years go on, we interpret this sadness from separation a flaw, or a deficit.

I understand why this is the case. At 38, if I were crying every time I left my family members, I would have puffy, swollen eyes, 24/7. I would be crying all the time. I don't always get to have the people who make me feel safe and secure by my side. The sheer fact that we don't live near family eliminates the possibility. Then there are those who have made the choice for me, to not be a part of my life, or the life of my family. The weight of those losses is heavy and brings on its own flood of tears. But, I think about that beautiful baby girl, crying as my hand moved the wisps of hair from her eyes, and I realized that God was using her to touch my heart. This tender moment made me remember what it's like to need and to be needed.

I loved telling her how brave and strong she was. It was a peaceful exchange consisting of sadness and great connection. How hard it is to suffer in silence, as this little one was trying to do. When God gives me moments to see the pain of those around me, I am so thankful. Because, He reminds me in these moments how we all try to hide our tears by pulling the covers over our eyes. Secretly, hoping and praying someone will notice and tend to the brokenness we can't even articulate with words. Today, I had my heart tended to by seeing the strength of R. She reminded me of the power and energy it takes to make it through a terrain of unknowns, which is life.

Morning Lullabies

Isn't it great to hold a sleeping baby? Or better yet, to hold a baby, and sing that little one to sleep? There is that precious moment right before their eyes shut for a lingering rest where peace and connection are epitomized. OK, some of you may not know that feeling, so you will have to imagine.

Imagine that sweet moment when you put a spoonful of your favorite ice cream into your mouth. You feel the chill, then the flavor hits your taste buds, and wow, it is...delicious. Maybe you aren't a sweet treat freak like me. Maybe it's that perfect cut of meat, that is cooked just how you like it. You cut into and you knife just sinks in with no effort. Once in your mouth, it melts. You savor the flavor and want to absorb each bite. Well, singing a baby to sleep is even more amazing than your favorite bite of food melting in your mouth.

Today, I was able to sing to an infant as I rocked him to sleep. I have to admit, it turned my attitude around. I couldn't maintain the bitterness that was eating at my heart. The sadness, hurt, and pain that I was carrying about my sister, and my friend, dissipated as I looked into his eyes. I was breathing in his sweet scent of innocence and purity. How could I carry the heaviness of the burdens this world forces upon me? I simply couldn't. I had to smile and drink in the moment. So glad I was given the opportunity to experience the moment. The challenge is to remember the innocence in each person with whom I interact. Once, we were all infants, with the same potential as the little babe I held today.

So glad I have songs to sing. I remember singing to my own children, and love that they now sing along with me. I sing with my preschoolers and I love when they absorb the joy of music and share it with their parents long after they have been with me. In addition to enjoying to sing, I appreciate those who share their heart through song. Whether it's my husband who is offering a recital (which unfortunately has been canceled due to illness...or climate adjustment deficits), a student performing a role exceptionally, or a choir synchronizing their voices and mind to share meaning through sounds which will touch a heart; sharing the common language of music through song is a gift.

One of my favorite songs is Ingrid Michaelson's Morning Lullabies from the album, Boys and Girls. I sing it in my head a lot, and I listen to it when I want to remember...

The sun had painted
Patterns on your face
As you breathed Sunday air
You rolled onto
My open arm
I became your pillow; you let me smooth your hair

I will sing you morning lullabies
You are beautiful and peaceful this way
I know you have to close your eyes on everyone
Let me help you, I'll sing you to sleep
With morning lullabies

We all have to close our eyes. Sometimes we have to close our eyes to stay alive in this world instead of drifting off to other places, times, and lives. I am thankful to those of you who sing me to sleep. And, I am thankful to those of you who let me sing you to sleep.

And this is love...

And this is love, not that I have first loved You. And this is love, that You have first loved me. You gave up your life, a perfect sacrifice. And this is love...

These lyrics keep running through my mind. I have been grappling with this miraculous kind of love in contrast to the love I have to offer. I pray that one day I will love in the way Christ has modeled, but so frequently lately I fall short. I have this expectation that love looks a certain way. It is acceptance and understanding. It is forgiveness and accommodation. It is free and ever changing with the seasons.

Maybe you know the feeling of moving forward in your thinking and understanding, but believing that others only see you for your past rationales and perceptions. When once you would have shunned or disapproved, judged and condemned, now you accept and honor because you have realized your own frailty and fallibility. But, when others are not moving with you, they can't see where you are or where you are going. So, they are left only realizing what you once were and how you once thought. No matter how much people believe they can stay detached and just call on you when their need or desire arises, they can't possibly know where your heart is if they stay disconnected.

My heart is grieving this evening as I recognize the reality of this truth. My sister hasn't spoken to me for about 6 weeks. I don't know where her heart is, and she doesn't know, nor does she seem to want to know where my heart is. As hard as I try to stay loving and open, I fall into a place of bitterness. How could she not want to be apart of my life? After everything our family has been through, losing our dad about nine months ago, how can she intentionally decide to disconnect. She is angry, she feels like my priorities are wrong, she is hurt. Though I can't understand the specifics that brought her to the place of disconnecting, I do understand the broader emotions that drove her to the decision. I know anger, hurt, and misunderstanding. I think I have responded negatively to others with the same base emotions driving my choices.

I want to own the parts of the pain I caused. I know I am not perfect. I could make excuses and they might justify my actions. OR, I could say nothing and that may suggest a certain guilt. My heart grieves too for not getting to be a part of my sister's life. Today was her daughter's birthday. I called their home and got to leave a message. But, I didn't get to hear about her party or what she did at school. There is a distance that I can't swallow right now. Being shut out makes me question who I am. Am I so intolerable that my own sister can't stand contact with me? Am I so reprehensible that it is safer for her to disconnect entirely? How very sad it is to realize my family is missing out on relationships that could be very fruitful.

The arguments could be made this is my choice. We moved to Texas, we chose to spend vacation time with friends and family. We don't write, call, or visit enough. It's all true. As much as I would like to move forward and pretend it doesn't matter, it does. It matters I don't get to have a sister. She is here, alive, real, my family. She is choosing to not have the benefits of our relationship and she is stealing the benefits from me. Some sisters have to say goodbye far too soon, and it is permanent, at least until Jesus reconciles us all to Him. I have seen this reality, and it is so painful.

My sister isn't the first to disconnect from me. It hurts to know the love I have for others is so easily disregarded. This evening I can rationalize all the truths about why, but my heart is aching and the tears are stinging. I feel like I am whining and complaining without offering the great benefits these relationships have played in my life. Again, I can rationalize those things, but I have this bitter view tonight that seems to be coloring my understanding.

And this is love...That is what I have to remember. The gift of love is not what is given in response to an offering. Love is given as the gift. It is given when nobody accepts or wants it. Love is given because we love the person, not for what they've done or can do, but because they are a child of God, and we are called to love in this Christlike way. I am not there. I want to be. I pray to be. But, I still find it easier to love those who respond and accept the love I am offering, even though it is substandard and inadequate. I am sad. I miss my sister. I miss my friend. I want to know her heart, but I can't make her want to offer this. I can't beg, plead, or explain enough to make her want to know me. And sadly, as each day passes, our hearts grow that much further apart. How long will it take before the desire fades entirely? Maybe that has already happened. I grieve this possibility. I also feel very selfish wishing for it to change.

If I trust God, then I have to believe that what is right now will be used to bring His will to fruition. So, not having connection must be serving somebody, even though it doesn't seem to be serving me. I am selfish for wanting this. Clearly I am torn about how to handle this difficult situation. It is not for me to resolve. Ugh, not having control is so...frustrating...challenging...exhausting...painful. In this moment, I will trust God. He is in this with me. He is with those I love, and those who have meant so much to my heart. Thankfully, God knows the sadness in my heart because He feels it daily for all his loved ones who turn away from Him. It's not the same, by any stretch of the imagination. God is perfect, and well, I am...NOT! I know my loved ones have good reasons for turning from me. It just makes me sad. Enough pouting. I must go pluck my eyebrows.