Midlife Crisis (.) (!) (?)

The text came across my phone: 

Only 39 more days of being 39~

I laughed and asked what the plans were. It seemed a day worth celebrating, especially if you love numbers the way I do. 

My favorite text came from this same friend, literally minutes after the New Year had been rung in. 

Um, is this the year we turn 40?

I really did laugh aloud for a bit. It seems that in trying to forget how old we are, we truly forgot how old we are. 

Forty

It just doesn't seem possible. 

I blame my mother, partially. She was young when she had me, so my perception of age has always been a little skewed. She was forty when I got married. It really seems as if I should be further along on the path of life at this point. 

I've been preparing myself for some time, saying at every opportunity, "Well, I'm almost 40..." to which my friends have replied, "You are not." (I've done this for a couple of years.)

It has helped. I can say the word "forty" without hyperventilating.

Sort of.

A magazine yelled at me from the checkout line that "50 is the new 30" which of course means that 40 is the new 20. Except I don't want to be 20 again. I was a disaster in my 20's. 

And because I am who I am and I do what I do, I've been full of introspect about this impending birthday. 

Because truly, no matter how you gloss it over, dress it up, or package it, my life is half over.

My life is half over. 

The life expectancy is 80 for women in this country.

See? Half over.

That's a lot to take in.

It's taken a bit of effort to understand exactly why this has me in a pinch.

It could be simple vanity. Things aren't exactly how or where they were when I was 20. There are wrinkles and (lots and lots) of gray hair. I've been forced to recognize that perhaps I put more stock in my appearance than I'd like to admit. I never thought I'd be one of those women who refused to age gracefully, but I'm sitting here slightly aggravated that my body seems much more acceptant of this impending birthday than my mind does.

How silly.

More than this, though, is the constant ticker that runs in my mind, keeping an invisible yet incredibly tangible list of ways that I have failed God in my life.

I keep wondering, "What if my life ended now?"

I don't feel like I have half of a life's worth of gifts to offer Him.

It's not that I don't want to look in His face. I do. I just sort of feel like I'd be showing up at someone's house for dinner with an inadequate hostess gift.

Not to reduce heaven to going to a friend's house for dinner.

But that's what it feels like.

What do I have to offer Him? And why do I feel like I'm begging Him for more time to do more stuff to offer Him? And why now? Why does this birthday bring this to light in me?

Because it's HALF WAY OVER and I've only lived one solid good decade for Him?

This is when I hear a well meaning friend say, "Honestly, Amy, why do you wear yourself out with all this overthinking? Don't you get tired of it?"

Or I see my sweet friend in the midst of her cleaning the kitchen paused, with dish cloth in hand, looking at me and saying, "Amy, you are intense."

I blinked hard after that one.

I wasn't even doing anything other than quietly sweeping the floor. I guess she meant in general.

Intense? I don't feel intense. I thought I kept that bottled up pretty well.

Obviously not.

I hear the accusations, "You need to lighten up."

Think less. Chill out. Go with the flow.

Especially now. With this huge impending birthday coming up.

Maybe it's wrong to pause and take inventory, but it feels necessary. How did I mess up the first forty years? What would I like to do differently in the next forty? What would I change?

It feels like a fresh start in some ways. A change to get it all right and keep it right.

I don't want to mess up again. I don't want to live through another day of debauchery, much less another decade.

I feel resolve welling up in me. I just want to do this half right.

I read through Jonathan Edwards' Resolutions and find myself yelling, "YES!!!"

Resolved, that I will live so as I shall wish I had done when I come to die.


Maybe I should care less what people think. Maybe I should take intense as a compliment.

Maybe being forty is the decade in which you get to stop doing what you've done your whole life so that people will like you. Maybe this is the decade in which I do what makes me like myself.

Maybe being forty makes you care less because half your life is over and you realize you don't have that much more time to do what really matters - what really lasts, and you're done fooling around with the stuff that won't last.

Maybe I'll stop apologizing for thinking so much. Maybe I'll stop apologizing for being an introvert. Maybe I'll stop apologizing for wanting to study my Bible more than playing on the internet. Maybe I'll stop apologizing for being intense. Maybe I'll stop feeling guilty for saying "no" and for limiting abuse and not caring what people think. Maybe I'll start saying, "You know, that's not okay with me. You can't say that. Or do that. You need to stop." instead letting people do what they want and then feeling the effects of their actions.

That would be nice.

I'm not there yet.

But I'm still 39, so there's hope. 

Another beauty post? STOP IT!

I can't help it. I wanted to reference this comment in one of my other posts, but I got tired of the whole thing and said, "Forget it."

I kept thinking about what this sweet man had written, but couldn't remember how to get back to where it was.

And lo and behold, here it is! A whole post about this sweet man whose words have echoed in my head. 

Yay!!!!


My Wife is Beautiful

 
I have also thought over and over about this beautiful yet oh so vulnerable poem written by Ruth Bell Graham.

She always possessed such beauty to me. Poise and grace. I admired and appreciated her love of the written word. Her creative side. Her love of the Lord and His Word are evident in simply everything about her. Her deep devotion to missions is an inspiration to me. Her apparent adoration of her husband and her acceptance of and devotion to his ministry brings tears to my eyes. Truly. The way her children speak of her inspires me to be a better mother.


I adore this woman.

To say it was a surprise to read her tender and heart felt words is to say the least. She was a humble woman, never wanting attention for herself, but to hear this view of herself gave me pause:

Your eyes
look down at me...
What do they see?
The plainness of me--
plainly built,
not small,
nor calmly poised,
nor quaint,
and, worst of all,
a nose upturned
and hands 
that I have known
for years to be
too long,
too overgrown;
plain hazel eyes,
a face too pale,
not fair,
a mouth too large
 and ordinary hair?
And all of me
tucked in
this homemade dress;
oh, if you look at me
so thoughtfully
will you love me
the less?


 Oh, my heart broke when I read this! I wanted her to know how much I adored her! I wanted her to feel beautiful. Each time I see pictures of her, or video of her, her beauty just shines from her face and her countenance. I wanted her to feel about herself the way I feel about her!

And then I heard the Lord whisper, "And I too..."

Yes, I hear you, Lord. The way Your beauty shines from me is all that matters.




One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple. Psalm 27:4

I hope this is the last of the beauty posts for a bit. I know that charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. {Proverbs 31:20} I know that what I do for Christ is all that will last. I pray that I will continue to seek Him, be conformed to the image of His Son and lay these other things at His feet where they belong.

Poem from "Never Let it End" by Ruth Graham Bell

Beauty Part 926

Ask me if I'm tired of thinking about this subject.

No, go ahead. Ask.

I am.

It's not completely my fault, really. 

I flipped on the television one night to have something to listen to as I cooked dinner. The show "Toddlers and Tiaras" was on. I had heard about this show and was mildly intrigued. 

Well. Let's just say that I froze, horrified, in the middle of the kitchen with a spatula in mid-air within two minutes of the show starting.

I don't have time or space here to say everything that was wrong with that show and the parents on it.

But here's the thing. There was this dad who was a "pageant dad." And yes, it was as disturbing as it sounds.

But he actually said this: 

"If my wife and my daughter were in a beauty pageant together, my daughter would win, hands down."

I flipped around with my spatula and said out loud, "OH NO HE DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT..."

I was devastated for his wife.

She had spent a few seconds earlier talking about how she had once been a "beautiful girl" but had "let herself go." She said she knew first hand how much easier life was when you were beautiful. She had seen the difference in how people treated others based on outward appearance in each of her life situations.
 

It broke my heart. 

So when her husband, Mr. "I-used-to-be-in-the-Navy-so-now-I'm-using-all-that-I-learned-there-to-help -my-daughter-succeed-in-the-beauty-pageant-world" said that his daughter would win in a beauty contest against his wife, my heart broke for her.

I wanted to grab him by is rather large XL tee shirt collar and yell at his balding head that his wife needed to be the most beautiful thing in the world to him. That she needed to be loved for her beauty no matter how much it had changed over the years. That she needed to be held in high esteem for the way that she looked, whether or not it compared to her daughter's beauty.

I was mad. 

Maybe this is why I can't stop thinking about this issue. It seems that everywhere you look, someone or something is telling you how you could look better or thinner or less old or compete with the teenagers who haven't had time march across their face. Or rear ends.

And apparently I'm not the only one that thinks so. 

I was watching one of my guilty summer pleasures just a day later, although I hate to say it since this particular episode put this show dangerously close to getting marked off my viewing list. I'm putting it on probation, because no matter how much I love a show, if it makes my spirit cringe, I know it's gotta go.

Anyway.

I hate to link this site here, but I'm going to anyway. This was on the now "on probation" show:

Just the Way You Are
 

And fine, I'll admit that I cried, for that sweet lady, because the words of this song expressed to her husband what she wanted and needed to hear from him.

So maybe that's why I can't stop thinking about women and their inability to stop thinking about how they look. It's pervasive. It's everywhere. 

I'll remind myself that whatever I happen to maybe have beauty-wise is hopefully found in my love and passion for Christ. He is my Creator, and He made no mistakes in creating me. {{Despite my new favorite quote, "No one else wanted this laugh, so God gave it to me."}} Hopefully my love for Him shines on me, and our beautiful and intimate relationship reflects in my countenance.  Hopefully I will stand strong against what this world says is beautiful and stay firmly rooted in my devotion for Him. 

That's what important. That's what's real. And that's what's eternal.

Beauty - Part 2

That was certainly the longest interlude between two related posts I've ever had.

{{I've been busy}}

So here is the article that I read right on the heels of my previously reported magazine encounter:

Letting Herself Go

Be sure and ready Rachel Held Evan's post that triggered Tim Challis' post: Thou Shalt Not Let Thyself Go

(have a headache yet?)

And here are two other posts by Rachel Held Evans:

Better Conversations about Bible Womanhood 

Better Conversations about Biblical Womanhood Part 2

So.

Yep.

I tried and tried to write my feelings out about all of this, and I just can't. Maybe because I've just had too much going on and need a lot of quiet time (haha) to sort this out in a way that I can write out my thoughts. Or maybe I don't even want to figure it all out. This may be one of those "suck it up" issues where too much thought is not a good thing. 

I do need to note the following comment. Maybe it's not all about physical beauty. Maybe it's about a beautiful relationship. I don't know. 

I really don't have time to think about it.

"You are correct that a husband's love for his wife should not be predicated on any standard of outward beauty.  A wife's desire to please her husband comes in the context of his need to love her unconditionally and serve her sacrificially, and it enables him to do that more and better.

One of the beauties of how God has designed men and women in a complementary fashion is that the better job a husband does of being a Biblical husband, the more he inspires his wife to be a Biblical wife, and vice versa - it's synergistic."

No shampoo?

I tried this trick years ago with disastrous results. 

I decided to give it a go again. 

With definite feelings of trepidation. 

First, some back story.

I have a friend who has become my heart this last year. I won't try to take the time to describe our relationship-it's beautiful and complex and the most Christ-centered friendship I've ever had. 

We bonded more one day over the story of Elizabeth and Mary, and she started calling me her "Mary." I figured that made her Elizabeth. But that's our relationship. The joy and the amazement at what God is doing in us individually and together bonds us together in the most unique way.

She's also the funniest human alive. It's to the point now when I'm looking at my phone and laughing/crying/wheezing/snorting, my husband will look over and say, "What's Elizabeth up to now?"

She's funny.

But she's also hard on me.

One day I did something pretty embarrassing. In front of people. Instead of consoling me like a good friend would, she gave me a once over from head to toe and said, "Well, at least you're having a good hair day..."

Yep. That's Elizabeth.

It became a running joke. She'd text me in the middle of a crisis, and as I was digging through Scripture or praying for wisdom/discernment, she's interrupt the conversation with, "So how is your hair today?"

As a result I started to text her pictures of my hair in various states of disarray-first thing in the morning, after a run, while I was making part of it red, whatever would prove to her that I did actually not have great hair. 

It became a huge, silly, stress relieving joke.

Hold on to that long story.

I found a post the other day about this whole "no shampoo" things, and it reminded me of the time I tried this a few years ago.

(here is the link: Shampoo Free )

It was a disaster last time, but for some reason, I decided I needed to give it a try again. When I was getting a facial last week (hush, it was a gift) the nice lady commented that it looked like I was perhaps allergic to my shampoo/conditioner by the way my skin looked around my hairline.

It was time to try this Shampoo Free thing again. It's so cheap, and I was willing to give it a whirl.

A down side to this process is that you really have to brush your hair out. It's a long story why, but trust me. You have to brush your hair. A lot.

I try not to do that. 

Why, you ask? 

Well. Back to my crazy friend and my insane habit of texting her horrible pictures of my hair.

I showed this soon-to-come picture to another friend last week and she said, "Dude, like seriously, don't ever show that to anyone..." or something along those lines. And she laughed really hard.

But you know what? I'm tired of all of this social media bull crap. I'm tired of the perfect profile pictures, the constant reassurances that we're perfect people with no problems and that our lives are so sweet and happy and blessed and never, ever suck. I try to ram against that, but I'm not sure I really do that good of a job. I toyed with the idea of using a really horrible picture of me as my profile picture (and I have tons of them) on Facebook and Twitter, but I admit it. I wasn't brave enough.

So I'm going to keep it real and post what my honest to goodness hair looks like after it has had a good brushing. And this ought to be good for not only a few laughs, but some bonus points for being real.

{{Also, in the vein of keeping it real, I also sinned at least eight times today. I'd list them, but I'm really tired and I want to go to bed. I'll save that for another day... I did honestly repent though}}

So here's to real:

There you go. Hope I still have friends after this. *wink*

Terribly girlie post

You Must Go Here First!

(click the link)

A friend of mine suggested this cleansing method a while ago. I was too busy to worry with it, but after hearing several of my friend's rave reviews, I decided to try it. I was a little worried about trying anything with castor oil, since usually when castor oil is involved, a baby falls out. Since that's not in my plan at the moment, I was a little skeptical. They convinced me to give it a try and my sweet friend even gave me some of her castor oil. And she promised a baby wouldn't fall out.

So I tried this, and I'm here to talk YOU into trying it. Oh my.

First of all, it works. I typically have the skin of a 13 year old boy, and it's been a while since my skin was this clear. The article explains why it works, but I'm just here to tell you, oh boy, it does.

Secondly, it won't kill you. I'll spare you my "we're killing ourselves with all these chemicals we use in our homes and put on and in our bodies" speech and just tell you that common sense tells you that olive oil and castor oil are not going to harm you in any way. Perfectly safe. No harmful ingredients. No chemicals. Good for you.

Thirdly, it's cheap. I cook with olive oil all the time, and the castor oil can be bought locally or ordered more cheaply at Amazon.com. No money on cosmetics with all of the harmful ingredients.

Fourth. It works. It's amazing. Since I have that teenage boy skin, I use the higher dose of castor oil, but you may be better with the lesser amount. Play with it and see what works for you.

My precious daughter came downstairs with a small bump on her nose the other morning. (She's now at the age where this stuff embarrasses her, so don't mention that you read this here!) I have started this treatment on her, and I hope this may spare her some of the embarrassment of living with bad skin through the teenage years. I'd love to help her avoid some of that horror...

So just try this. I'm pretty positive that you're going to be impressed. And I'll even order the castor oil for you!

That chick really bugs me

Have you ever been in church and looked over and seen her? You know who she is. She's standing there, innocently enough. She's absolutely put together, no hair out of place, clothes just right. It's obvious that she's hasn't struggled with 15 extra pounds that have lingered since the birth of her last child-the child that is now 3 years old. She looks well rested and very put together. She is standing happily beside her husband, and it's very evident that he adores her. Probably because she didn't yell at her husband that if he didn't hurry up, they were going to be late to church and she wasn't going to get her preferred seat in church. (Sure enough, they were 2.7 minutes late...) Her children are there too, perfectly matched. Her son does not have on his red Cars sock with his Spider Man tennis shoes, blue shorts and pink and blue plaid button down dress shirt. Her children don't appear to insist on dressing themselves. Their faces are clean, their hair brushed. They are all smiling and happy to be in church, not passing notes, not poking her, asking her when it's going to be over or trying the bathroom trick one more time. You can even go so far as to guess that her house is neat and clean, she cooks only healthy, nutritious food, and she never wastes time on Facebook. Or Twitter. Or whatever...

Ugh. A modern day Super Woman. I am so not her. Obviously.

I always kinda feel that way about the Proverbs 31 woman too. I mean why did Solomon stick her at the end of this amazing book on wisdom? Why did she get to end the whole book? Just to make me feel crappy about my short comings?

I read this text again recently, and through my usual groanings about this amazing woman, a verse jumped out at me. I've read it a hundred times, but I guess because of where I am in my life, it really jumped off the page and slapped me in the face. Oh, here it is...

She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.

Oh come on!!! Really? She laughs at the years to come? You mean

THIS CHICK WOULDN'T EVER DYE HER GRAY HAIR?????

*sigh* Okay, maybe this isn't exactly what Solomon meant. Maybe he's not referring to her actual looks, or the fact that she's getting old. Maybe only because where I am in my life did I interpret it this way.

But I did interpret it that way. Boy did I. I have gray hair. Lots of it. I have wrinkles, which have only recently started to bother me. I'm getting that rooster neck. Stop laughing- I AM. I saw it in the rear view mirror in the van and I almost cried! I still can't get rid of these stupid extra pounds ( I KNOW you're tired of hearing about them. I'm tired of carrying them around!) and things are sagging that have never sagged this much before. (I don't think I have a single solitary male reader, but if I ever did, I think that probably just sent them running for the hills never to return.)

I mean come on. I'm only 37 (choke) and I'm falling apart. It's not supposed to be like this for at least 3 more years. My mom and grandmothers didn't go gray until well in their 40's. What the heck is going on? (coughcoughzanecoughcough)

So anyway, I have had some time to reflect on these issues, and there are some tough questions to be asked. Why do I care so much about the way I look? There is a difference in presenting a proper appearance and trying to recapture the looks of your 20's. I don't want to look 20 again, but dang it if I don't want to look 40 yet.

Okay, so enough about the outside. This is really a heart issue. If I wore very out of fashion clothes, had tons of frizzy gray hair and wore no makeup, God would still adore me, right? So the hang up is mine.

Where is the healthy boundary with caring about how you look, but not caring how you look? I ain't gonna lie. I got me some henna upstairs right now, and tonight, I'm washing this gray out of my hair. I'm even going to give myself a mani and a pedi. When I could be doing Bible study.

See my dilemma?

Okay, here's all I got so far. I need to want to care for the poor, sick and needy more than I want to buy myself a new pair of shoes at Target. I need to be more concerned about my tongue and what it wags than I care that I have a new studded bracelet to participate in the stud trend for fall. I need to care more about the thoughts that are in my head than the gray hair that sits on top of that brain. I need to be more concerned with doing good with my body than caring how many extra pounds are on said body.

Or maybe it's all or nothing. Maybe we are products of our society that says you are only valuable if you are beautiful. Maybe I am so insecure in myself that I figure if I'm half way decent looking, people will like me based on that and not what's inside.Maybe I am so damaged that I need the admiration from complete and total strangers based on looks alone. All of this is humbling and terrifying to think about. Maybe I'm more concerned about what's on the outside because allowing God to work on the inside is at times excruciating. Maybe I'm afraid He'll ask me to put away my henna and my cute clothes. Maybe I think if I study His Word enough, He'll let me keep my vanity.

Gross. Usually I can blog some of this stuff and get it worked out, but honestly I think this is something that He and I are going to have to hash out. I think it's awesome that I'm having to let go of some of this due to the aging process. We have all seen those ladies who are older, yet dress like their daughters and look rather ridiculous. I don't want to be her, I promise.

I want to age gracefully. I want to not care what I look like. I want to honor God with my life, and do that without caring that time has marched across my face. And my rear.

*I* want to laugh at the years to come. Whether or not that's what Solomon meant.

Oh, and as to why he ended this book with this chapter, I thought this was pretty cool. (Some faiths don't want to spell out God's name, so they do a number of different things. I have seen it written G_d before, and this lady prefers to write it a different way. Don't let that distract you from her perspective. It's an interesting one...)

"I’ve always wondered why Proverbs 31 ended with this poem about this woman. So have others. It seems odd. And after all the focus on wisdom and gaining it, why does this book end with a woman going about her mundane daily activities? Part of the answer to this in how the Jewish sages defined wisdom. Wisdom was not just knowledge gained for knowledge’s sake. Wisdom was knowledge that was to be applied to everyday life. In the Bible Godde created the world and set boundaries and laws to govern what Godde created. Wisdom sought to define those boundaries and apply those laws to their daily lives. This woman is living wisdom."

link:http://www.shawnaatteberry.com/

I want to live wisdom. Oh, Lord, help me to live wisdom. Then I'll know what to do about all the other stuff.

(disclaimer: this post has absolutely nothing to do with anyone who dyes their own hair. And I'm talking to you, you that knows who you are;) )

I've seen the future...

How I hope to be... Maybe

The funniest darn thing I've seen in a LONG time

Mom Jeans. That's all that needs to be said.

http://www.graspingforobjectivity.com/2009/03/mom-jeans-and-dreaded-long-butt.html

A few of my (new) favorite things

I finally found a shampoo that works! Yes! Pantene used to be the only thing that worked for my crazy hair, but it's full of chemicals that I try so hard to avoid. So here's the miracle shampoo:

http://www.iherb.com/ProductDetails.aspx?c=1&pid=6419&at=0

There is a conditioner too.

And this deodorant works for me too!!! Not as well as Secret maybe, but this one won't kill me! lol...

http://www.iherb.com/ProductDetails.aspx?c=1&pid=8253387648534526534

So there they are. Two things that are making my life a little bit easier. And safer, I hope.

I have pretty toes

I needed some pampering. Self indulgent, narcissistic, whiny pampering. So I went for my first ever pedicure. I was nervous! I'm so ticklish, and I was afraid I was going to laugh. It helped that they had CNN on, and they were running a story about women in Afghanistan. That made me feel even worse! But sober, and I definitely didn't laugh.

It was hard to spend the money too. I am the epitome of cheap. Or thrifty. I tried not to think of just how many bottles of nail polish I could buy with what it costs to get a mani and pedi. Then I told myself to shut it and just enjoy the experience. So I read my book.

I have pretty nails too, even though I managed to ding them before I was even out of the nail place. And I had them done because I'm painting tomorrow??? Oh well. Guess I'll have to put to use my plastic gloves.

And the nice lady said, "You really like color?" Yes, I'm a weirdo, and I love this color!

*sigh* That was fun. I won't do it again for a long time, but Jamie's a bad influence, and I had to cave at some point! It was fun to cave!!! *smooch* :):):)

And Allen said, "Hey take a picture of my ugly toes by your cute toes!!!" So I did. We're just crazy that way!!! lol....

It's never worked for me

But hey, it might work for you!! Try it, at least for awhile. With all the cost cutting that we are all trying to do, it's a great time to try it!!!!!

http://babyslime.livejournal.com/174054.html

A dose of reality

I wonder if this picture will get me to stop eating??? The irony is that I'm holding a cookie!!! :):):)