God spoke to me through Thai food.

It's important to recognize when the fortune cookie is smarter than you are.

The wisdom delivered here hit me right between the eyes. It goes far beyond exposing the recklessness of deception. It's also a reminder I can't put anything over on God.

I have finally *really* figured out that I can't show God a particular side of me. He sees the WHOLE of me... "warts and all" as they say. What's more He LOVES the whole of me and doesn't hold my warts against me. He isn't even repulsed by the great big booger hanging off my nose. All He sees is the being that He created me to be.

Beautiful. Radiant. Flawless.

That doesn't mean anyone else sees me that way, or needs to, or that I think I'm perfect because God sees me that way. It REALLY doesn't mean that He thinks I don't need any improvement or correction. God has been correcting my ass off in recent months. What it means is that I don't need to be self-conscious, because I'm good enough, just the way I am, for anyone... even me.

Which brings me to the other truth that this fortune cookie revealed to me...

I can't outwit myself, either.

No matter what persona I project or how I wrestle parts of myself back in fear that people will be uncomfortable with me at "full strength," or perhaps they'll realize just what a doofus and fraud I really am, the "real me" is still there. Who I am lurks just below the surface clambering to be seen and heard in more than just regulated, censored cameo appearances... because that is the person God created me to be.

I can't change it any more than I can change the color of my eyes or the length of my legs.

I don't need to fear negative reactions because I say what I really feel. Someone just might be thinking the exact same thing. And if they don't agree, they are certainly entitled to feel differently. It doesn't mean I'm stupid, or wrong, or bad. We simply don't agree. It's not a crime or a sin to disagree.

The greatest disservice I can do those around me, especially those I love, is to withhold my honesty in a vain attempt to "protect" them somehow and display only what I think others deserve, or expect, or can handle from me. That's not to say that I need to be brutal or cruel. Just real. To say the truth and then work through their response with love and respect. That is the only way to have a firm footing.

To build a relationship while being who I *think* I'm supposed to be and expressing only what I imagine my loved ones want to hear is to live on a constantly eroding slope that will inevitably continue to fail and lack true stability until the bedrock is finally exposed.

What greater expression of Love for my family and friends could I offer than to allow the person God made me to be finally beam at full candle-power in stead of a feeble attempt at acceptable fashioned by my own floundering, myopic humanness? To quote Ani DiFranco, "I'm 32 Flavors and then some..." My family deserves them all... not just the ones I *think* they like.

How will they know they like pistachio unless I give them a chance to try it?

Mint Chocolate Chip?

Licorice, anyone?

What better gift and show of respect for my Creator than to quit camouflaging His design?

I'm done being afraid of who I am.

I'm pretty much done with fear in general. Fear is the opposite of Love.

I'm ready to Live Out Loud.

I'm ready to break free of self-imposed twilight.

At last, I am ready to shine... and maybe even sing.


Nothing like a little Pad Ginger with a good friend for lunch and a smack upside the head from God for dessert, eh?

A Book of Love

When my Granddad passed away 12 years ago, Grannee was more than devastated.

These two were the world's greatest lovers and had been honeymooning for more than 64 years. Suddenly, he was gone. Literally, her OTHER HALF was ripped from her and she felt helpless, hopeless and beyond alone.

She immediately moved in with my mom and step-dad where she was extremely well cared for, but nothing, of course, could take the place of her Dear George. Who could even try?

She even refused to sleep in a full sized bed because it felt too big without him spooned up behind her.

Now, Grannee and I have always had a very special and unique relationship that I cherish to this day. I am her namesake. Her "Dolly," as she used to call me. Gran and I related on a level that I can't explain and won't dare to try. When she lost her Love, all I wanted was to make the pain and loneliness stop, but realistically, who could? All I could do was remind her how much I loved her and all she was to me. She was such a profound influence on my life but I couldn't always be there at her side to remind her. I had a life of my own to attend to and knew that as time passed, it would get harder and harder for her to remember all the things I told her in our precious stolen moments together so... I decided to write her a book. A book of love that she could turn to whenever she needed to remember.

Grannee passed away on April 21st of 2006; just two weeks shy of the 10 year anniversary of when Granddad left us. Ten years without the love of her life she had spent over half a century doing life with. Wow. I can't even begin to imagine how hard that was for her.

At her memorial service, the minister read passages from my book as examples of the effect she had on me and every other person with whom she ever came in contact. (Not to mention what being around them as a couple would do to people! They were absolutely amazing... anyway) He approached me after the service and said I should publish the book. That it would mean a lot to people... at the very least, for my family.

It struck me as rather funny since it is such an intensely personal document. Who else would care about my relationship with Gran?

Well, I never got it "published" to print, but after nearly two years of sitting on it, I decided that maybe here was a good place to put it out to the world.

It's long. 37 pages even, so be forewarned. If you choose to tackle this undertaking, you will be peering into some of the most intimate thoughts and feelings I have shared with one of the single most important people to my very existence. But it is the product of so much unconditional love and encouragement that it doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of all she was to and did for me and who I have become... and continue to become.

So, with that said, I present for your perusal, "A Book Of Love."

Click on each image to see it at full, actually readable, size.

I was born a grown-up.

It's Sunday *morning and to say I have been X-Treme Multitasking would be a gross understatement.

I have been working, listening to some amazing worship music and contemplating where I actually am emotionally/mentally/spiritually, compared to where I thought I was and...

... how...

... I ...

... got ...

... H E R E.

Actually, I've spent the last couple of days pondering the last topic almost constantly.


Disclaimer: By now, you will likely have guessed that this will not be the usual lighthearted "Angeleen" post. I'm going deeper folks and if you'd rather read about premium cat litter and life with cows than watching me plumb the depths of my surprisingly complicated emotional interior, you might want to check back in a post or two.


This isn't the venue for getting too explicit about why I dropped off the planet for a while there, so I will only say that it involved some pretty heavy, life-altering events and choices that have caused me to take a very long look at how I got to the place where those events could occur. I am going to start counseling soon to make my best effort at getting to the bottom of these issues, start healing, stop the cycle of pain and hopefully spare my girls a similar legacy.

They will get to have a childhood full of innocence and security.

I was never a kid.

This is not a new concept in my observations of my self, rather I have a new awareness of the long-term impact of the unaddressed fact.

I was introduced to the quagmire of adult situations and traumas and vocabulary and conflicts and heartaches and pain... all of it... by the age of three.

It was kinda like being fed the Fruit of the Tree of What Grown-Ups Know and Wish They Didn't served on a graham cracker and washed down with the innate knowledge I had no power whatsoever to escape any of it.

By the time I was about 12, for all practical purposes, I was fully indoctrinated... the only vestige of childhood that remained was the inability to control my own surroundings. EDIT:**My mom was on her second divorce, and would enter into her third doomed marriage within EDIT: a year and a half. My focus was taking care of her. With regard to my needs and desires and goals, I just wanted to be as little trouble as possible, make her happy and to be one thing she didn't have to worry about. One thing about her life that wasn't complicated. EDIT:***My brother and I were really good kids... I didn't get complicated until much later.

I wasn't adventurous.

I wasn't rebellious.

I didn't drink or use drugs and tried to be a good influence on my friends who did.

I wasn't mouthy or belligerent.

And, though I discovered *boys* waaaaay too young, I wasn't what you could remotely call promiscuous or in any way reckless.

I was never disrespectful.

I was always upbeat and smiling and dishing out hugs to people, even when, at times, I was living a nightmare at home...

I got reasonably good grades, was well-thought-of by my teachers and had a small group of very good friends.

I was, and am, a survivor.

By the time I hit 17 I had *memorized* The Unillustrated Guide to the Troubled World of Adults without ever cracking Intro to Adolescence or How to be a Proper Teenager.

.........

All this is to preface my most newly-formed hypothesis on one element of the contributing factors of recent events. Here it is:

Our lives are supposed to happen in a very specific sequence. Each phase builds off of the one before it, must be taken in order (duh) and is set aside for us to make mistakes/take actions/engage in events that are appropriate to that age and time with correspondingly appropriate risks and life lessons.

If you skip ahead and miss those lessons, you will still have to get them somewhere down the road. Even if it's many, many years down that road.

One of the lessons you learn as a teenager is that being reckless and disrespectful is distructive and effects everyone around you. Only, for the well-brought-up teenager, there is less at risk, for the most part, of far-reaching and profound damage. You also have the benefit of being able to blame your transgressions on being young and inexperienced and you have plenty of life ahead of you to redeem yourself.

When you're 40... It's a whole different story. When you trip, there are legions of souls who fall with you. There are no reasons that fully satisfy the pain-filled questions. There are no answers or explanations that lead to spontaneous healing and enlightenment... and there are children involved whom you risk thrusting into that exact place in which you found yourself all those years ago.

The anguish and remorse take on fully-fledged, grown-up-sized magnitude and the whole weight of just how much work there lies ahead crushes your chest and makes breathing feel like a luxury. Sleep is a futile endeavor without properly medicating far enough in advance. Eating? Nearly impossible.

But, where there is enough Love, there is Hope. With Love, miracles can and will happen. I have been blessed with people in my life that Love me more than I ever imagined possible or deserve. Even when they shouldn't want to, they Love me and that helps me keep loving myself. My husband is the most obvious and best example of people who continue to show me this kind of Love, but by far, not the only one.

It's God's love shining through them that gives me Hope. Hope that all this pain and revelation is part of God's plan to make me the person He meant for me to be when he put me in my mom's belly.

There are so many things I still need to discover about myself, healing to be done, deficits to be filled in order for that person to live and breathe and be a blessing to others. But, in the Long Run, the exquisite agony of these latent growing pains will be worth it because they are baby steps toward becoming the person He meant for me to be. I could run away and just be contented to stay damaged and incomplete because it would be easier in the short-term, but what a waste. With superhuman effort, patience and Love, in the fullness of time, His perfect plan will come to fruition and on the other side of this experience I'll know what he really intended my life to look like. Yes, I have Hope.

I don't know what Shelly The Counselor will think of my theory of my skipped adolescence, but I'm pretty sure I'll be one client that gives her a lot to chew on... or perhaps baldness and premature aging...

I'll keep you posted as to my progress and her wrinkling.

Peace Y'all



*clearly not morning any more.

**It is very important to note that I do NOT blame my mom for my "issues." I never have. She did the best she could in her own set of circumstances. She had her own set of baggage and always, ALWAYS TRIED to do what she thought was best for us, sacrificed for and loved us without limits. I am merely relaying the facts of my early life and don't intend to place "blame."

***Due in no small part to the unceasing prayers of our amazing grandparents who provided a haven of stability and accountability in our lives... and STILL do... even after their passing.

Amazing Grace

Well, Folks, I have a new hero.























Last night at her preschool "graduation" my five-year-old daughter astounded me with a feat of bravery I have seldom seen out of grown men, let alone a small child.

Gracie is a force of nature. She is so full of life, personality and maturity it is often easy for me to forget, not only that she's five, but that she is also painfully shy. I don't mean "shy" like you try to talk to her and she looks the other way or doesn't talk back. I mean "shy" like hiding in my bedroom for the first half of Thanksgiving dinner because people other than her most immediate family were here... never mind that they were all relatives she has seen many times.

She requires warning and practice to get through an evening with Grandpa Doug and Uncle Monte simply because she doesn't see them on a daily basis. "I'll try" she says about coming out of the bedroom before the first hour of the visit has passed. When she does come out, she spends the next half hour glued to my side. By the end of the evening, she'll talk.

When she was really young, strangers would make her literally tremble and sob with fear.

There is no traumatic event to explain this behavior, it's just the way she was made.

She informed her teacher she would not be singing in the Preschool Christmas performance two weeks before it was scheduled to occur. She agreed to design the program, however. (Which turned out really cool, incidentally.)

All this is to explain what an amazing and impressive thing it was for her to walk with her classmates at her graduation last night.



She held back tears, though she looked as though she was about to explode. She sang and did sign language while she rocked side to side to comfort herself.

She was not coerced, bribed or threatened to do this. I was sitting in the second row where she could clearly see me. She knew she could bolt from the stage and curl up in my lap with her head in my chest without reproach...

But she didn't.



"And the Oscar goes to...!" She is smiling here because it is required when singing "When You're Happy And You Know It."


She powered through and made us all want to cry at the sight of such courage in the face of the biggest fear of her young little life.

When she was excused to come sit with her family, she sat down like a lady, though with a great deal of relief, she did not collapse into a weepy heap.

AND, when asked to re-join her teacher... BY HERSELF... at the front of the room, she looked at me, paused only a moment, then walked back up there in front of of everyone and LEAD THE PRAYER before refreshments!

To say I am proud of her would be a gross understatement. Knowing what torture being the center of attention has been for her, that was her equivalent of summiting Everest.

I strive to have that much courage when I grow up.