Chili On the Square

If you are in Tulsa, OK this Friday...

Speak

 “Women have sat indoors all these millions of years, so that by this time, the very walls are permeated by their creative force, which has, indeed so overcharged the capacity of bricks and mortar that it must needs harness itself to pens and brushes

and business and politics.”

The young, silent girl sat in her yellow walled bedroom.  The ruffled valance coordinating with the dust ruffle and matching pillow shams, so beautifully dainty is her appearance.  An onlooker would assume the smile on her face would reflect a perfect middle-class life where struggles and angst are a million thoughts away.

As she gazes out her window to the immediate front yard, neighborhood kids ride their bikes, and tree trimmers creating a more manicured perfection, her thoughts are far from this shallow world.

She meditates on her inner voice.  Her voice that speaks loudly with passion and conviction, the words of reality, what is and can be.  She no longer is tricked by her beautiful cage representing America’s middle-class family.

Her world is a lie. 

What penetrates the walls? Truth penetrates all walls.

The truth is she has fought for safety since she can remember. 

As she now sits on her bed, the truth is she is on her third dad, has already been molested by at least two different men, held down and forced to watch pornography and has hidden under a mattress in a crack house to protect her own life.

She is unimpressed with the American dream and the men who proclaim it.

Her heart and experiences create a resiliency that can only be found through surviving. 

Each breath that she takes she dreams.  She dreams of shattering her world and reconciling her experiences.  She dreams of forgiveness and understanding.  She dreams of peace and wrapping it to give away to her friends.  She knows she is not alone.  She knows she has been given a mission, a mission that can only be fulfilled through the pain she has endured.

Unconstrained passion flows through her veins.  She knows she is an enigma. 

Her pencil lead breaks on the pages of her journal as she fervently writes her creative perception of her life’s events and their meaning. 

Unmoved by the childhood of others outside her window, she is an old soul clothed in the likeness of others, but incredibly different.

In today’s world she would be considered a global thinker, or a maverick, but in her world she is destined to speak for herself and others, fearlessly.

Millions of years of silence for being born a female have passed and it is up to us who have experienced the adversity of our female race to rise up and speak for ourselves and our little girls.

Painted walls and beautiful things cannot silence our message.  We are capable of inspiring, thriving, and changing a national perception, we are women.  Our beauty defined by strength, our strength defined by goodness.  We are American women.

Revelation to Action

"There can be no keener revelation of a society's soul than the way in which it treats its children."
Nelson Mandela

What does America value?  More concrete - what do you value?
Do we recognize the human experience called, "childhood" and deem it a valuable foundation to a life well-lived or do we simply excuse it and claim we have all been naive once?
My hope is the first thought, but our times are revealing a much more dismal view of today's child.
Please, I urge you, consider stepping back and assessing the care and concern for children in our society today and the value, you, personally would place on children being equipped to handle adversity and change.  Give it a dollar amount.  How much is it worth?
Now, ask yourself if, you, personally have contributed toward any organization in the past year that is dedicated to helping human beings in their greatest hour of need, their childhood.
Please consider it.

This Little Light of Mine

The day had been crazy.  Sasha, Blended Love's Executive Director, and I had been whisked abruptly into Fox 25's interview studio for our 8:20 a.m. interview around 8:17 a.m. or so.  Being out-of-towners to the area we had to rely solely on a GPS that spoke French.  As he demanded who knows what the arrows were hard to figure out and that resulted in a lot of unnecessary turns on the Oklahoma City expressways.  Exiting on Scott Street became a crowd favorite!
After the interview we had an appointment with Bethel Foundation in Oklahoma City.  Sasha had set up the meeting because she has been involved with some of their fundraisers and believed that I would enjoy learning more about their mission of providing opportunities and tangibles to single mothers.  In theory, great idea - but what I didn't expect....
I walked into this darling house with a gorgeous sign alerting moms that this could be their haven.  The beautiful scriptures that were so gracefully drawn on the wall were arrows to the heart of a path that leads to peace, a common emotion we all want, a common denominator to all who enter.  That peace was magnified as I turned to meet, Lynda, the humble servant who answered God's request to help His children - single moms.  Her inspirational, blue eyes echoed the same peace felt all over this home, except in her eyes this feeling was strongly coupled with determination.
As she spoke of her journey, my empathetic heart began to go down her road of suffering and understanding and yet all overshadowed by HOPE.  This hope has been the ingredient to all their programs.  The hope is as tangible as the "birthday room," a room designed for moms to come in and pick out toys for their children on their birthday and wrap them and leave with a birthday cake.  Hope...providing moms with the ability to make their child's birthday special.  Hope that these same children who receive birthday wishes will in return have a better life for their own children, a life where they can provide these special birthday moments.  Hope also in understanding that moms need hope not only for their children, but for themselves.
Bethel provides scholarships to driven moms looking for careers that require a degree.  Lynda quickly lights up as she speaks about their poster mom who has worked tirelessly to obtain her Masters degree.
Touring this incredible facility that even housed a free store to moms who have need of food, clothing, toys, diapers, etc. strengthened my core belief that we all have a light to shine and some have figured out the One who lights the flame and are allowing their light to shine so brightly that not even the jaded world of experience can blow it out.
Lynda, may your light shine so brightly no one can deny the illuminating beauty!

Power of Photography

Ever wonder what a kid is thinking?  Ask them.  They will usually tell you if you look like you are genuinely listening.
I have been giving my kiddo a camera since she was three years old.  I learn so much about her from her photography.  I learn about what she cares about, or who she cares about. 
The beauty of the pictures is that if you make time she will sit down and tell you a story that goes with each one. 
If you are a parent trying to connect with your child, don't give up....try a camera.

(According to Eden, a four year old at the time, this dear, sweet community of animals were having picture day.  They had just experienced a move and were thankful that no one was left in a box or behind.  They celebrated being a family and having each other.  She claims they vowed to never forget their experience of the biggest change of their lives.)

Sisters

The thunder is crashing and I am in a full sprint to my sister's room.  Not because she is the oldest, she is actually seven years younger, no I am in a panic that only the stubborn, strong sister of mine can cure.  As I slide under the covers I can feel her smooth legs up against mine and her arm come sliding over my back with a small tap.  She never really fully woke up on these nights, but her sleepy, apathetic presence reminded me that it was just thunder, not the end of the world.

I would like to say this illustration was a one time event in my childhood, but it wasn't.  Growing up in Oklahoma thunderstorms could be our state song.
As I hear the thunder now I am reminded of how grateful I am for those moments.  Moments of security.  Being a child of so many divorces, security has always been sacred.  Having a sister provided a lot of stability.

She was there.  Bad hair, awful outfits, tearful temper tantrums, you name it she saw it firsthand and loved me through it anyway.

"Our" Time, Child-Centered Divorce Month

I remember when I was a kid, my dad always resurfaced on the 4th of July.  He loved it. 
I think somewhere in his noggin he decided that the 4th was our holiday, so most of my memories of the 4th include him. 
What a wonderful gift to me.  His consistency of choosing a time that was "our" time was marked with a reoccurring visual every year.
My dad has been gone now for over four years, but still as I see the exploding fireworks the sights and sounds reaffirm the consistent message my dad sent me on the 4th and I hear, "no matter how crazy my life gets, I promise not to forget you especially on our 4th."
This month is Child-Centered Divorce Month.  If you are a parent struggling to find your place in your child's heart after a divorce, consider implementing an "our" time marked by an event that will be around a long time after you have passed on.
I can assure you that as a child I may not have revealed the importance of the 4th to my dad, but as an adult it brings me to tears and is a warm memory of love and affirmation.