How Did I Get Here?

Honesty Post...be forewarned...

Today is more than just a paid holiday, a day off work or a day of rest.  It's a day set aside to remember those that have sacrificed the most for our safety and freedom.  It's a day to remember those who gave all they had for people they never met.  A day to remember the families and friends that were left behind without them because their family members heroically chose put theirselves in harms way for us.

Well friends, I think it's time that I explain the reasons behind the name of the blog Blooming Wild Flowers.  More than once, I’ve been corrected because I misspelled wildflowers.  The latest instance came from my 15-year-old son.  Keep in mind, this is the kid that’s just barely scraping by in all of his classes in high school.  So, when he brought it to my attention, I was a little proud that he realized the word was misspelled, but also a little annoyed because why isn’t he applying himself more in school??  Boys!  Rest assured friends, the compound word was separated intentionally. 

One of the biggest blessings a person can receive is becoming a parent, in my humble opinion.  Whether you carry that baby yourself or adopt, the love a Mama feels for that baby is like no other.  It's instantaneous, big big emotions and you become Mama Bear protecting her cubs overnight it seems.

This season of life has been more confusing but more rewarding than I ever anticipated.  I'm right on the cusp of turning the BIG 5-0 and I've refused to accept that, until recently.  Let's face it, my life is past the halfway mark, half a century old...what?!?!  How did I get here so fast?!  Have I done enough in these last 49 years?  Do I look 50?  Should I behave differently, more mature, more demure as a 50 year old?  

Do you ever hear sirens and start praying for the person or people in need of assistance?  I try to, too.   This afternoon, while in my garage, I heard the fire truck sirens close to my house.  I said a simple prayer for those involved, praying for protection, safety, etc.  

I have been writing and rewriting this post.  My mind and heart just keep going back to our community's loss.  I pray that you know that when you read this, the words are from the heart and I pray that one person finds a little relief from the post.  

I'm a boy mom...no ifs, ands or buts about it.  I asked for boys, except for the momentary lapse in judgement when I sorta hoped baby #3 would be a girl, but God knew what I needed when he gave me that 3rd little boy.  If you're a mom that has been blessed with a son, you know that a son's love just hits differently.  They give the best hugs, they pick you the most beautiful weeds imaginable and think worms they've dug up are gifts.  Future mamas...do not, I repeat...do not take something from your son without seeing what's in their hand first. You will thank me later.

Ladies, can we be real for just a minute?  Like TMI really really real.  Because I'm about to be very real with you.  I HATE being a female right now.  Why do our bodies have to turn on us once we turn middle age??  I'm so angry about it!  But maybe I'm actually not and it's just the perimenopause talking...

Theo Von, a famous standup comedian, recently went on a pod cast discussing his struggles with his need for healing, but was admittedly afraid of what his life would look like afterwards. Now, I'm sure many of you have either seen the pod cast or you've seen snipits from the social media experts discussing the pod cast.  I personally haven't watched the pod cast fully, but one question he asked really struck a chord with me.  He questioned (I'm paraphrasing) if he truly wanted to be healed by Jesus because he'd be different, his whole story would be different.  Wow, what a transparent and sobering question from a man who is hopefully on the cusp of fully surrendering.  How many of us have ever been in the same situation? My heart was moved by his honesty and also troubled that he was wrestling with the consequences of accepting healing from our Jesus.  I can remember as a young child being convicted by the Holy Spirit to surrender my heart. Each time I would convince myself that I had time to worry about that later.  Later for me came at the ripe old age of 28, after the birth of my first child.  

A friend of mine recently texted me asking if I was preparing for the impending storms predicted to hit our area.  Me being made up of 50% sarcasm, I reminded them that I originally came from Tornado Alley (straight outta Oklahoma) and we wrangled twisters like they wrangle cattle...  Now, personally, I thought that was a pretty witty line.  But the fact is, if the storms had produced a tornado, I would have been just as unprepared and afraid as everyone else.  It got me thinking about when those major storms of disappointment hit our personal lives.  They feel like a big old brick wall coming at us at lightning speed.  They knock the breath right out of our lungs.  And sadly, for me, they tend to send me spiraling around and around in an emotional twister of anxiety, fear and worry.

Tyrant, Dictator, Drill-Sergeant, Bossy Betty...you name it, I've been called it plus worse....  Bottom line, I'm a recovering CONTROL FREAK.   I don't know where the need to control everything came from.  Maybe it's just how I'm hard-wired or the byproduct of something that happened in my past. What I know for certain is I do not want to continue to be this person.