Wednesday, April 20, 2011

All I Ever Wanted Was Everything


There was a story once shared with me about how hunters trap monkeys in the jungle. Fresh fruit is placed inside clear jars positioned out in the open. The monkeys must make a tight fist in order to retrieve the fruit, but they get stuck because they can’t remove their hand AND the fruit. Their frustration lies in the determination to have it all. What they don’t realize is that if they were to just let go of the fruit, they could be free. Yet most monkeys can’t let go.

It is human nature to want to “have your (fruit) and eat it too.” I want to save money and I really want a new pair of Steve Madden patent red sandals. I want to eat fistfuls of carbs and I want to lose weight.  I want to have a career I love without sacrificing the paycheck. I want to tend a pretty garden and not worry about chipping off a segment of my manicure.

Just the other day, the tanning bed got the words of Faith Hill’s, “Let Me Let Go” stuck in my head. I admit that same night I broke out into my own encore rendition for an entire audience of shower products. Reminding me that we can’t keep holding on to what weighs us down if we want to fly.

Sometimes I find myself traveling with the majority of the population; holding on to things because I am fearful of never having a second or third chance at it. I no longer want to be a part of those that are scared to sacrifice and therefore really let go and live.

“for many be called, but few chosen.” – Matthew 20:16
 
I’ve always lived by the rule of thumb, life’s too short- buy the shoes! However, I don’t want to be a monkey. I’d rather let go of the closet space and seek financial peace. I’d be more satisfied if I skipped Spring Creek’s hot fresh rolls and ran a little extra.

Lesson learned: Once you decide to be freed from the jar, we must trust The One that came to rescue us. After all, The Lord guarantees an orchard of endless fruit if we would just let go.

Friday, April 15, 2011

“My Life Was In Dire Need of a Ctrl+Alt+Delete” –Anne Taintor

The summer of 6th grade was a rough one for me. I broke the heart of a boy for the first time, moved to a new neighborhood, started my awkward middle school phase, and got my first bad haircut. You see, ever since I moved from Pennsylvania to Texas I had been working incredibly hard at growing out my bangs. They were in my way, always needed to be trimmed, and more notably outdated. The very week that they were long enough to fit into my pony tail; I cut them.
(Afterthought : what the Eff did I do that for?!?)
After the first cut, you can’t go back. Not to mention, I further decided to offset my throwback bangs by adding blond highlights and layers. Well, those subtle natural looking highlights ended up forming an almost solid layer of yellow around my once brown head, ANDDDD the layers made me look like a mix between a shaggy dog and Farrah Faucet. Can you please envision the horror of my roots as they grew out because mother refused to let me dye my hair back?

WORST PUNISHMENT EVER!!!
{for those who think seeing is believing, here is visual proof… Don't let the smile fool you, my attitude was worst than those sunglasses!}

If I would have known then that were more traumatic situations I would have to live with a lot longer, I probably wouldn’t have cried for nights and nights over my drastic hairdo.

Turns out, as we mature and progress down our paths of life, we are faced with more things that we don’t get a chance to undo; things that time, a bottle of hair dye or a baseball cap can’t fix after they are damaged. Things like misspoken words, life threatening diseases, and Mother Nature’s lovely polka dot pattern on my thighs also known as cellulite. (Though for arguments sake, I am pretty sure that is a gift from the devil and not the one that adorns herself in Prada).
Sometimes you don’t get a second chance, yet security in always doing things right the first time isn't guaranteed either. I don’t believe there has to be a cure in order for you to be healed, nor do I believe that everything happens for a reason. I do, however, believe that there is good in all things. My “new” hair, for instance, was atrocious, but my mother still has the picture in a frame – saved for a good laugh on a bad day. This I am certain.