Stumbling Along Reckless Paths

GETTING REAL ABOUT GOD

2008-03-24T13:51:00.000-07:00

This entry was my answer to a question in a Beth Moore Bible Study last fall.

In what regular situations do you face the adult version of "peer pressure," having to make the choice between being yourself and being who others want you to be?

My discipleship group discussed the great commission today.When I was asked what I would tell people to draw them to Christ, I said "I would tell them they wouldn't have to go to Hell. That's about it." I was feeling angry with God that day and totally helpless in my attempts to feel better. I'm positive that I made a couple of people in the group uncomfortable. One of my friends tried to rephrase what I said. When I continued to disagree with her, she said nice things about me. I continued to disagree.

I can be such an evil soul. I so often refuse to play the kind of "nice" that keeps everyone around me feeling relaxed and pleasant. I am especially prone to misbehave around others who, like myself, are giving it all they've got to keep life comfortable.

Harry S. Sullivan, A Psychiatrist whose interpersonal theory I once drew on in the role of counselor, said that most human behavior is motivated by a desire to avoid anxiety. If we believe that life is about us, our comfort and our happiness, then there will always be anxiety when something upsets the equilibrium of our belief systems. And we will try to fix whatever is causing us to feel anxious.

The thing is, my faith is too important to me to have to pretend about it. So many times in religious types of groups, there are rules about conversation. We must always say "It is well with my soul" regardless of how it is. We can be mad at God. We can be doubting God. We can be yelling at our spouses on the cell phone all the way to group, but when we get there, it is well with our souls. Gross!

Usually I try to tone down my blatant honesty a bit to save others the energy it takes to make me be "nice" again so that they will in turn feel "comfortable." However, I much prefer to be real ....and, as my Daddy use to say, and let the chips fall where they may. I'm not talking about being insensitive to other people. I am talking about honesty regarding myself and my own walk with God. I am talking about saying "Yes, I did feel pain when that leg fell off on the ski slope. And, I'm not yet to the place of thanking God for the new wooden one." (Just an example, my legs are both currently attached.)

If we have to pretend about faith, then I think we are talking about "pretend faith" are we not?As fellow servants of Christ, I believe that we have similar struggles, earthly heartaches, and times of doubting the One who means most to us. A Christian philosophy that presents God as a Santa Claus to make things good in our lives and fix everything is so damaging. It puts us in the position to feel rejected by God when we experience struggles.One of the most Godly women I've ever known became a Christian in such an environment. She and her family would anoint one another with oil and pray for healing. If the pain continued to be so bad that the sick person had to lie down, he or she continued to thank God for being healed.

Yes, we will all be healed and perfect and lacking nothing one day. But if God always heals (if we are good enough or ask correctly or have enough faith) then why on earth do Christians continue to die? This precious child of God died of Cancer believing she was "bad" and therefore she was paying for it. I believe that God sometimes heals and that He may do so in a miraculous manner, but I don't believe that being a Christian is about making our lives on earth comfortable.

In Larry Crabb's book, SHATTERED DREAMS, he talks about the differences between happiness and joy in the Christian life. He says that most Christians seek happiness in the same way non Christians do, through circumstances. Christians settle for and try to hang on to an earth bought happiness. Most don't ever experience the greater joy that God intended for us to have, a joy that transcends circumstances.

Here is an excerpt from SHATTERED DREAMS:

This book is an invitation to taste and see that the Lord is good even when the bottom falls out of your life. Let me repeat those three ideas that this invitation builds on:

1. God wants to bless you. He gets a kick out of making His children happy. He feels much the same way parents feel on Christmas morning as they anticipate watching their kids unwrap presents amid squeals of delight.

2. The deepest pleasure we're capable of experiencing is a direct encounter with God. In God's new way of dealing with people, He does us the most good by making Himself available to be enjoyed and be seeing to it that we seek an encounter with him with more energy than we seek anything else.But we almost always mistake lesser pleasures for this greatest pleasure and live our lives chasing after them. We're not in touch with our appetite for God.

3. So the Holy Spirit awakens that appetite. He uses the pain of shattered dreams to help us discover our desire for God, to help us begin dreaming the highest dream. Shattered dreams are not accidents of fate. They are ordained opportunities for the Spirit first to awaken then to satisfy our highest dream.

I would highly recommend any of Larry Crabb's books. Check out his website. http://www.newwayministries.org/

As for me, my pretend God has been shattered. As I cautiously approach the true Creator, I have dropped my pretense and move forward with genuine hope.

2008-02-06T18:34:00.000-08:00

Though my feet were on solid ground as I wrote the following song, the words are typed over a picture of the wetlands behind my home.

(Double Click to Enlarge)

An Exposed Root

2008-01-24T16:38:00.000-08:00

Birthplace of Indecisiveness

My father said to me over and over, “Honey you can do anything that you want to do badly enough.” Well, I wanted to fly. So my sister and I found Daddy’s largest golf umbrella and jumped off the swing set. We didn’t fly. We didn’t fly when we tried it off the roof either. No matter. My dreams continued to be comprised of flying sisters, furiously flapping little arms to stay afloat. It never occurred to me that flying was impossible.

As my flying years became driving years, I soon forgot about the golf umbrellas. But I hung on to my fear of choosing. Since, refusing to choose protected me from the failure to achieve my dreams, I became safely uncertain about everything. Or I decided at the last minute. Who could judge that? "Row surely would have done better had she had more time to decide. But, given the circumstances, she performed rather well don't you think." Sometimes I would put off deciding until only one alternative remained. Then it wasn't actually my choice right?

This distorted kind of thinking rarely goes away on its own. Experience has increased my awareness that there is, in fact, a problem. Yet, I still find myself strangely indecisive about most everything.

Where do you want to eat today Row? “Oh, I don’t know. You pick.” No, I want you to pick this time. “No, you know I just can’t do that. I’ll be happy with anything you pick…just no onions or garlic…..and it has to be clean in the restaurant’s kitchen.” Row, you must know where you want to eat if you have all those conditions. “Oh no, anywhere is fine. You decide. Just be sure the floors aren’t greasy. That’s always a bad sign.” Row, pick a restaurant right now. “No, really, I can’t and I don’t care. Plus I don’t know of any good restaurants because I don’t eat out very often.” OK Row, since you won’t pick, we are going to the same place we go every week. “OK, but you remember how gross you said it was last week don’t you?” Then pick another one Row. “Oh no, no, I’ll be happy at any place you choose. Just make sure they serve fresh vegetables.”

When we finally arrive somewhere, it starts all over. The waitress asks me what I would like to drink. “I’m a little cold, so maybe some hot tea……. Oh, but that doesn’t go with Mexican food. I have to have a coke.” OK, I’ll bring you a coke. “Make that a diet coke. Wait! Come back! Do you have any other kinds of diet sodas?” No ma'am. We only have diet coke. “Does it have a lot of fizz in it?” I don’t know ma’am. Would you like to try it? “No, I’m thinking I might just have iced tea. Do you have unsweetened iced tea?” Yes, we do. I’ll get that right out to you. “Wait! Do you have any limes or lemons?” Yes Ma’am, I’ll bring a little dish of them on the side. “OK, but wait. I need to ask you about the sweeteners. All I see here are these pink packets. These are bitter and they cause cancer in laboratory animals.” I wasn’t aware of that ma’am. “Well, that’s why I need those yellow packets. There isn’t anything bad out about those yet.” Ma’am, we don’t have the yellow packets. “I see. Well, I guess I’ll just have water then…..with a lime.”

With this degree of difficulty in the smaller decisions, I have had to come up with a method to make the larger ones. I have learned to make them quickly, without giving much consideration to alternatives, and usually waiting until the last possible second. My marriage was no exception.

After the sending of the wedding invitations, we started having fear that we would be the "runaway bride and groom" because of our indecisiveness. We were discussing this one day on our lunch hours from work. We decided that we should just drive to the courthouse and get married right then. It was great! We had a little ceremony and then returned to our respective jobs. A few weeks later, the wedding went on as planned but we were much more settled about it. If you are reading this, the thought "this girl needs serious help" has probably crossed your mind by now. Well I am getting that help.

I am blessed to be under church teaching that stresses the meaning of GRACE. Over and over I have heard that God's strength is made perfect in my weakness as I allow Him to live through me. I am also aware that I can do all things through Christ. (even make decisions and commitments) I am a coward who has a KING for a father. My earthly father is long gone but I can still "go ask Daddy what to do." My heavenly father will not only direct my steps but he will give me the power to take them.

Randy Pope, author and lead Pastor/Teacher of Perimeter Church in Atlanta, extends the following challenge to Christians: He says,

"Attempt something so great for God that it is doomed to failure unless God be in it.” John Haggai

Heavenly Father, Enable me to abandon my faithlessness in refusing to choose. May I trust You for the outcome of each decision placed in Your hands. Fill me with Your wisdom so that I will choose Your best. Lead me to make courageous choices as I recognize that You alone are able.

Grace is Freedom

2008-01-20T13:09:00.000-08:00

Row’s Testimony

I've written my testimony every year for the past four years.

Every year it changes because I know a little more about how little I know.

I have been a Christian for so long that I have no memories of life any other way. As a child I had a habit of “aisle walking” at church services and revivals, not limited to ones preached by my uncle, my brother, or my cousin. I lived with guilt and the red carpet marathon had a way of shaking the etch-a-sketch of spirituality for me.

Though the term Grace was not unfamiliar to me, its power was minimized by well meaning friends, works theologians and the urgent matters of day to day life. My mother was from the Deep South and she talked like someone from the Deep South. She used words like marvelous, splendid, and gracious. I thought Grace was gracious, you know, nice to people. So God was “being nice” when He sent his son to die.

I was taught to be nice to people too, even when I didn’t like those people. I figured God didn’t like me either because of my sin, but that He was “being nice.” I wanted Him to really like me though, so I tried to perform for Him. Unfortunately every time the big smile on my face reached center stage, I fell right on my head. I was sure that He would never be truly pleased with me and I lived in fear of Him “taking me out” over it.

With all of the “how to” classes and seminars available on how to live the Christian life, I became more and more indoctrinated with subtle deception. I was taught that it was my responsibility to “be good” and therefore “be pleasing to God” and therefore “get blessed by God.” The Christian life was about performing correctly to Get God to bless me. It was my life and it was all about me.

My first awareness of two way relationship with God came at a Wales Goebel conference in Panama City Florida. After skipping meetings all day in favor of the beach, I felt drawn to a Friday night meeting led by a man named Howard Borland. I hardly recall how I ended up on my knees at the front of the room that night.

From that time on, I felt drawn to read the Bible. I began to understand scripture better and recognize personal applications for my life. God had called me and I knew it. I was still puzzled about why. I knew I wasn’t good enough.

Being “good” was important in my family. My father heralded self-discipline to be the greatest of all personal strengths. He taught us girls to set goals and to do our very best to achieve them. I read Christian books. I went to conferences. I asked for Spiritual guidance from other religious people. And I was reinforced by spiritual leaders, the church, and my family to keep trying hard to get it right so that God would bless my life. And I forgot about both God and Grace. Well, Grace was just a nice word anyway. I knew deep down that God wanted me to shape up.

As I worked hard to get approval from God and others, I did a lot of deep thinking, studying, and “figuring God out.” The idea of getting to know, much less of learning to love God, rarely crossed my mind. It is a lot easier to read about and study about God than it is to get to know Him. Knowing God does not compute in the rational brain. Furthermore…it’s kind of scary!

My faith has almost always been about me, all about me. How am I doing? Is God pleased with my life? Am I discerning this great plan He has for my life? When is He going to send me on my great mission? Will I be equipped? How am I looking? Who’s watching me? Do they like me?

I feel tremendous pressure when I measure my performance against a standard, much more so when the standard is perfection. I keep forgetting that Christ already took care of that. I can talk about grace with eloquence. Why does my snap response to most life situations continue to be “the same old self discipline?” I try. I fail. I feel terrible. Depression has come close to immobilizing me a number of times in my life. Perhaps I have a chemical imbalance. However, I recently suspect that my depression may be a consequence of not resting in a grace that I can’t earn, so I can’t lose.

What is resting in grace anyway? I spend most of my time trying to stay in control by Figuring Out God’s thoughts, motives, & plans. This is nothing but an unholy attempt to control my own life, rather than allow God to control it. It is the reason Satan got kicked out of heaven and Adam got kicked out of the garden. And it’s the root cause of “FOG brain” for a number of Christians.

FOG

Figuring Out God
It’s what I try to do
I want to be accepted like
A circumcised Jew

Figuring Out God
What does He want from me?
So many laws, I can’t recall
Just who I should be

Figuring Out God
I’m puzzled by His text
I search to stay one step ahead
Know what He’ll do next

Figuring Out God
I’m feeling so insane
His essence won’t compute in this
Degenerate brain

Figuring Out God
I want to scream and cry
So angry that I’m helpless
That my body will die

Figuring Out God
My brain is in a fog
I’m only sinking deeper
In my do-it-right bog

Figuring Out God
So I can pass the test
I want to get my God degree
And put all this to rest
Row Wood

As long as I strive to “get it right,” I will feel self righteous when my life goes well. And I will blame and loathe myself when all goes wrong. I do not have the power to get it right. But God is all power and all justice and all love. It is true that God is just. He can’t tolerate sin and requires a sacrifice for it. But He is powerful enough to have sent His son to earth to live a sinless life in an earthly body. And He loves us so much that He bore the pain of offering His son up as a sacrifice for our sins. (A thing he lovingly spared Abraham from experiencing, albeit at the last minute, with Isaac) Therefore I can be His, just as I am. I can boldly enter into His presence, filled with a lifetime of sin which is forgiven and covered with the righteousness of God’s son. I can come as I am, trusting Him for my righteousness.

..being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:6

As God’s work continues in me, I feel more and more drawn to the safety of His presence. He is teaching me to abide in Him. This is no easy transition. As a youngest child, I was trained to depend upon others. After my father’s death this quit working for me. So I started depending upon me. I soon found out that I’m about as dependable as the folks around me. I can’t be trusted to do the right thing for myself or anyone else. Forgetting about Grace, I hang on tight to control.

Living in a state of forgotten Grace, I am programmed like a circus monkey to perform for my banana. This is all I have known for so long. I have treated God as a means to an end in a life that belongs to ME.

THE LAMB
(The Hope Eternal Living as Man’s Band-aid)

Applied just like a band-aid,
Removed to feel more free
Worn on backs of speeding cars
For all the world to see

Deciphered like a puzzle
Decoded as a map
Studied closely for the hope
Of comfort in man’s trap

Quoted to win arguments
Remembered to be right
Sought when other ways have failed
And there’s no hope in sight

Sung about with fervor until
Others hear a voice
Which drowns out words of healing
And no longer can rejoice

Found dangling on fine jewelry
Like garnish for the heart
An answer to all hopelessness
Yet only seen in part

A way to bond with others
The pretense of being free
A concept fully shaped by man
Just concept, never He
Row Wood

In the movie the Matrix, Neo had to make a choice between an outwardly comfortable illusion and an unfamiliar truth. In truth, Neo was a waterlogged corpse like human being who was plugged into a machine. This machine both kept him alive and fed him lies. The world was colorful and seemed to hold great potential for reward as long as he stayed plugged in. In truth the world was gray and ugly and long void of true hope.

Neo had a sense that reality was not as it seemed. Then, the great leader of the movement of truth contacted him. He was given a choice. Will you take the blue pill and continue in a beautiful false reality? Or will you take the red pill, and deal with heartbreaking loss in order to know the truth.

I’m surprised that Neo chose the red pill, given the consequences. God offers His kids the truth also. But He promises that the truth will set us free

and He promises Himself as our great reward.

(Click on Image to Enlarge)

Each day is new. Each hour is new. Each choice is new. Will I choose the red pill or the blue pill? Will I choose to use my own strength and place my hope in my circumstances? Or will I choose to rest in His choice for me, His everlasting, unchanging presence.

I am His and I know that. If I live this life, hoping in my circumstances, I will not know Him in my lifetime. He will not be my great reward on this earth. Still, releasing control is frightening for me. Will I abandon the beauty of my false hope? Will I give up what I actually see and replace it with One whom I only sense? Somehow I know that this invisible prize is far more wonderful that what the world places before me. A voice in my spirit calls to me saying.

“I AM YOUR GREAT REWARD.”

THANKSGIVING OR FOODGIVING?

2007-12-14T22:00:00.000-08:00

I am such an awesome hostess at holidays! Everyone gets wonderful pressure-foam mattresses and pads. I cover these with soft sheets, blankets and bedspreads, all matching each other and the room they are in. Even the dogs get royal coordinated beds. This is because I’m secretly hoping everyone will just stay in their beds. Maybe then they won’t notice that I haven’t cooked anything.

What is it about food and holidays? The food served takes on a meaning all its own, and each person adds his or her own meanings to this. What’s feasting for one is suffering for another. This applies to broccoli, green beans, sweet potatoes, and especially turkey and dressing in our family. There are those who want the sweet potato marshmallow casserole. There are those who want it made with less sugar, for health. Some just want their sweet potato baked. Some want little sweet potato circles with a thick covering of brown sugar and land-o-lakes. Some don’t like sweet potatoes and request regular baked potatoes.

On to the dressing or should I say stuffing or shouldn’t I? Some want oysters in the stuffing. Some are horrified at the thought! Most want turkey but some won’t eat a turkey because “that would be murder.” There has to be a Tofu turkey for them. Some want the dressing in a casserole dish. Others want it stuffed right into the murdered turkey, mixed with onions and celery and seasonings. I get some requests for dressing made with corn bread and others for dressing made with day old toast, “like mother used to make.” (She probably did this so as not to waste her old bread.)

I am truly thankful for my wonderful family. I love being with them, especially during times when we are all sitting around laughing. When we laugh together at how crazy our lives have been, it seems more bearable when we experience our struggles. But why do we have to make such a production of eating? And why is food so connected with love and nurture with already grown up people? Each person knows exactly what he or she likes to eat. Why not bag lunch and enjoy the time together, no dish washing involved?

Food has always been an issue for me. I quit cooking about the time my youngest child became old enough to use the microwave. My mother didn’t like cooking either. We all know that everything is our mother’s fault right? I cook twice a week for the dog because he doesn’t know how to use the microwave and our vet said to give him meat and veggies. He only likes salt and butter on his food, so I never have to worry about him gagging over his dog bowl in disgust. As for crowd pleasing cooking, seasoned to perfection, I formally resign from any future attempts. Girls, thanks for all your help this year. There will be even more to thank you for after our next holiday together. Row

TO MEMBERS OF THE CCCC: Clueless Confidence Crusher Club

2007-12-14T21:50:00.000-08:00

ARE ALL PARENTS C.C.C.s?(Clueless Confidence Crushers)I have often cringed in judgment as I watched an unloving disciplinary approach with children. I am NOT saying that I don’t believe in discipline, just that a child’s spirit should be protected as a top priority.

A child should always feel loved and special. That being said, just this morning I was reading my oldest daughter’s blog. She said and I quote:

“This boils down to wanting to be recognized as something special. Growing up, I didn't feel special in the eyes of my parents. I think this has led to my looking for that affirmation in others. As a teenager I looked for it in my relationships with guys.”

Well now, I don’t think I get a gold star do I? What’s important to say here though is that I was truly clueless about my daughter’s feelings. Ginny was amazing from the day she was born. My greatest bragging material has come from simply being her mom. She was truly brilliant and funny and inventive. I loved her beyond reason. I still stand amazed in her presence and I adore her.

Ginny preferred reading encyclopedias to children’s’ books at a very early age. She read her whole set of children’s encyclopedias more than once. She was rearranging the furniture in her room before she could see over the top of her bed. Perhaps she was too much my little genius pal and not enough my carefully nurtured daughter. She just seemed to know everything and not need me for much. Where did I go wrong?

I used to dance around the room with Ginny singing “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.” She went every where with me and I bragged to everyone about her. As she got older, her status quo was almost perfection in school. Maybe I just expected it because she always did it, and I didn’t praise her enough. Maybe I criticized? The point is that I don’t know. What ever it was, the bottom line is that my precious daughter didn't feel special. How did I screw up so royally? It is too bad that we don’t get do-overs in parenting. For me, I would have to go back and get a complete life-over.

I got married when I was 21, three months from college graduation. I got married because I thought I had to get married. I had sinned in God’s eyes and was trying to fix it by marrying the guy I sinned with. God, to me, was the one with the big mallet. I didn’t want to get pounded so I tried hard to toe the line. Well, I didn’t even look my future husband in the eyes when I recited my wedding vows. I was horrified. Before the ceremony, I told a close cousin that I wanted to back out. She said she thought it was probably the wedding jitters and that she had prayed about it and felt good. So, I walked down that aisle, tears in my eyes, and said my vows looking straight into the eyes of my brother in law, the pastor. (Hey, I wonder if that makes me really married to my brother in law??)

Our five year long marriage was difficult. My husband was dealing with the stress of medical school, a wife who didn’t love him, and then came two kids. In the year he was made chief resident in internal medicine, one of his interns caught his eye. Or should I say, caught his heart. I don’t suppose he had felt loved our whole marriage. I’ll never know really. He left me and our two daughters when Ginny was three. I still remember her saying, “Daddy, please don’t leave.” By that time, I really did love my husband, but I was too proud to say it. So I scooped up my little girls in my arms and I watched him walk away. Then I cried for days and weeks and months.

I got into that marriage recklessly and I got out of it the same way. And I appealed to my self-created God to fix everything. I didn't know how to love my husband the way he needed to be loved. My understanding of God did not include the concept of GRACE. I had to work to remain in good standing with Him. People were "good" if they tried real hard. People were "bad" if they screwed up. The only thing I knew how to do was to condemn my former husband for being in the "bad" category.

Unfortunately, even if I had understood grace, there was my pride and my maturity level. Either probably would would have excluded my "fallen husband" from my list of receivers of grace. But I regret that my girls didn't learn about God's grace through observing it in my life. I said a lot of "spiritual" stuff to them and recited a lot of Bible verses. What the girls observed was an injured and angry mom who felt rejected and abandoned to circumstance. They grew up watching their mother try to become acceptable enough to be loved.

Ginny, Abby, and Angela, I am so proud, not only of whom you’ve all come to be, but of whom you’ve always been at heart level. You are all three beautiful, both inside and out. Please forgive my failure to nurture your self esteem the way God intended. I adore each of you, Mom

WATCHING NORA WORK: I Learned to do this when we were little and mother said we had to wash the dishes

2007-12-14T20:36:00.001-08:00

ONE WORKING....ONE WATCHING...AND ONE BORED BEYOND REASON

The Reckless Thinking Cycle: Justifying vs. Analyzing

My sister Nora came over a few times to plan a business with me. (I thinks she is trying to pull me out of my midlife depression. What she says is that she wants us to teach seminars together.... on strategic thinking.--I'm giggling.) I would be happy to get on stage in front of a lot of people. Maybe I could dance or sing poorly like that bad karaoke in MY BEST FRIEND’S WEDDING. But…..strategic thinking!!?? How can I teach something I’ve never done?

Strategic thinking seems like something you do to make an outcome more predictable. How much fun is that? Nora said, "Row, let's analyze some of your more reckless decisions and look at ways you could have handled them differently.” One day I said "ok" and we looked at a former vacation of mine to Destin. Several of my family members and my buddy Caroline went on a guided tour, snorkeling here and there along the gulf coast. One of our stops was the jetties, where one often finds an interesting array of fish.

Our guide said something about not swimming out past the jetties. I don't remember him telling us why. Let me tell you something. It was seriously BORING swimming around in that shallow water with all of those boat sitters! So, when the guide wasn't looking and my husband was otherwise occupied, I headed out for deep water.

The deep was awesome and beautiful, so much better that the rocks, reeds, and minnows of the shallow. Well, it was awesome until I realized that it was time to go and I was in trouble. Caught in a strong undercurrent, I was giving it all I had and going nowhere. I panicked and forgot the rules of swimming with the current. I kicked and splashed and fought it with all of my strength.

A fisherman noticed my plight about the time I was ready to give up. He dove in and attempted a rescue. Then the current was too much for both of us. Another man joined and we eventually made it back to shore. Here is how Nora mapped this out for me: (She said I was using a process called the cycle of reckless thinking. I told her that I call it “life.”)

Information: I was out on a guided tour and the guide said not to swim past the jetties.

Interpretation: From past experience, I interpreted this as "The fun must be in the deep water since the guide said not to go there."

Snap Decision: I decided that if I got the opportunity, I'd go for it.

Impulsive Action: Without a further thought, I headed for the "deep end" of the “pool.”

Consequences: The undertow wore me down. When I panicked and started to drown, two other people took risks to rescue me. The boat had to wait for me so a lot of other people suffered because of what I did. For me, the consequence was that I satisfied my thrill factor at others' expense.

Justification: Since I didn't consider possible outcomes before acting, I made up some believable reasons why I did what I did.

The true reason was simple. My thrill factor is quite high. Swimming around in shallow uninteresting water right next to the real thing was just too much to ask of me. Actually, if I had it to do over, I would drive a stake into the ground and take a rope with me. I’m just not wired to kick around in a foot of water.

Nora and I are only 20 months apart in age and raised by the same parents. Yet, we handle our lives quite differently. I think that many of our differences may be based on the fact that Nora always had me to look out for and I always had Nora nearby for a quick rescue. Unfortunately, my participation in our business development has halted. I lasted about two weeks. Then, all of that business talk started feeling like paddling around in the shallow water. Nora gets paid mega bucks for stuff like that. It sucks the life out of me. I told her I might be able to do it if we stuck some "Rosana Rosanadana" stuff in there to liven it up and if I could wear costumes and make faces while we teaching those stiff suited business people.

My six year old grandson (with Aspergers syndrome) is so funny, and so very precious. He tells people that he is a scientist and that he needs scientific equipment. When other children “refuse to learn” he gets so exasperated with them. He says things like, “Mom, those kids don’t care anything about science!” Maybe I’m an adult with Aspergers. Maybe I just need stimulation…like near death experiences….to inspire me. What do you think Nora? Do you still love me? Will you still come over and play if we don’t talk about balanced score cards and increased profitability? I will always adore you. And you will forever by my Yoda.

Passively Reckless

2007-12-13T13:37:00.000-08:00

I should have eyes on my backside because hindsight has been my primary sight up to now. I generally decide to do something right before I do it. I am also very persuasive in involving others. I think this is because I generally believe my own reasons for what I want, at least while I’m using them. This is a recipe for disaster…and I’ve had a lot of F-5s. I want to learn how to change this on one hand. Oh the other hand, I love being a free spirit.

I don’t even like planning a trip to my sister’s house in Myrtle Beach. I like for us to be on the phone and maybe she says “come over.” Then I say, “Do you mean now?” She’ll say “Anytime, whenever you want.” If I get in the car in the next few minutes, I’m on my way. Otherwise I feel controlled by my own plans and can’t do it. Even today, I have a full suitcase packed with summer clothes sitting at the top of my stairs. I was going to leave it packed so I’d be ready if the mood hit. Now, I think shorts and bathing suits would be a little sparse for the cold weather. On the other hand, being inappropriate sounds a little appealing.

I’m smiling now. It’s that evil smile I used to wear when whispering the only dirty word I knew into the microphone while my large extended family were positioned around our Grand Piano sounding like the Von Trapps in The Sound of Music. The dirty word is one that wouldn’t change a G-rating at today’s standards but it was my instrument of rebellion and I used it with vigor.

Maybe, I can’t change. I think that’s what 2 of my 3 daughters are most afraid of. The other one tiptoes through the tulips with me.

2007-12-13T08:47:00.000-08:00

Actively Reckless
My childhood was one easily defined as “reckless.” All one had to do was count the emergency room visits and multiply by a number between 3 and 20. That would offer a fair bragging estimate of the number of stitches I received before the age of 18. I wasn’t a “wild” child. I was simply an active child who had not been introduced to the concept of forethought.

For instance, I never considered how hard it might be to walk front wards down an attic ladder. (Carrying an object which blocked my view in all downward directions) So, I fell out of my oldest sister’s attic carrying a television, which I quickly catapulted into her wall to save myself. That time there were no stitches, but the parsonage wall was more holy than ever. Then there was the skiing trip behind a bike on a skateboard. It wouldn't have been a bad idea had I let go of the rope when I fell. Falling off roofs, out of trees, and into ditches was a way of life for me and the emergency room became my second home.

Some of my reckless actions didn’t involve stitches. I’ll never forget the 11th grade Spanish Club trip to Mexico City, Cuernavaca, and Taxco. It was Taxco that got me. I had little experience with alcohol and my friend and I bought a pint of 100 proof tequila. We shared this, each drinking half. Then, feeling sticky from our unairconditioned motel room, I went to take a shower, and found myself on a bus going to the next town. I lost a whole day of that trip. I wonder what everyone did during all of the hours I slept.

In later years, the accidents made a little more sense but they kept coming. I was out skiing with some friends when the boat had some problems. I hopped from my skis to a nearby pier when the boat stopped. Spotting a trampoline not 50 feet from the pier, I had the great idea to do a little showing off. So I popped up on the trampoline, took two bounces, and without any spotters, went into a front flip. Needless to say, I traveled across the surface, landed on my knees and discovered the concept of the lever. My face ended up on the bar, split open from mouth to chin and my teeth realized their long dream of being free.

Off to college I went a few months later, lip full of stitches and no car to get around in. I had to get rides home when I wanted to visit on weekends. Do you know how hard it was for “Miss Frankenstein” to ask for rides from cute fraternity boys? Once my favorite uncle said I could borrow his car for a week while he was out of town. I was thrilled to have my own ride. However, it was during finals at school. I had been up all night prior to making the three hour drive home. I made it to within a mile of my childhood home before falling asleep at the wheel. When I awoke, I was unable to get the front door of the car open but I was unharmed enough to climb over to the back seat and get out. At this point, this elderly man (whose PARKED car I hit) came running out of his house and grabbed my arm. He called me a young whippersnapper and held on to my elbow like a vice while he called the police.Ok, so I became a little more careful after that but this was more passive than active.

Rather than inventing a purposeful way of being, I came up with a list of things I wouldn’t do. I wouldn’t get on a trampoline again. (I did try to join the Auburn sky diving team….until all the stories of mutilation scared me away.) I wouldn’t skate board. I wouldn’t drive on no sleep. I wouldn’t drink alcohol. If I did occasionally drink, I definitely wouldn’t drive. I wouldn’t be immoral on dates. The list of don’t was large. It never occurred to me that there might be a list of dos.

2007-12-12T21:34:00.000-08:00