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Tuesday, October 30, 2012

The Different Facets of Me

I had a friend ask me last night, why on earth I was doing another mud run. I totally understand her confusion, because I've always been very cautious, very timid about coloring outside the lines of life. For instance... and this is not an exaggeration (I almost wish it were). It wasn't until the last couple of years, that I dared to remove the tags on pillows that says.... "Do not remove under penalty of law". Somewhere in my tiny little brain,
I believed there were tag enforcers just waiting for me to rip those tags off my pillows and comforters. And trust me, if there were a real tag enforcer task force, Murphy would see to it that they came to my house first. One day when I was cleaning house, I stared at that evil little tag and thought to myself... "This is ridiculous! Why hesitate when it's all in your head!" So I ripped off the tag, plumped the pillow and felt like a new woman (I mean, it takes so little to appease me sometimes)...(and my husband would probably rebut that side note). I was raised to be a girlie girl from my head to my toes, and I love being a woman (I mean I LOVE IT). But deep inside of me is a tomboy just waiting to be loosed. Both of my parents family live in and around the Ada/Allen area in Oklahoma. We rarely saw my Dad's family, but when we did, I
 was dressed in lace, fufu and black or white patent shoes. It didn't bother me, because I didn't know any different. For some reason my mom thought I needed to be decked out to the nines to hob nob with my cousins who lived in the country. One summer, my mom went to California with my aunt, so dad took us to his family's house. There I stood in lace so stiff I couldn't put my arms to my side, ruffles on my socks, and my black patent shoes. My cousin wanted to take me to the crawdad hole and show me how country life was meant to be lived. My aunt scrounged around and found some jeans and an old shirt for me to wear. I can't remember what we did for shoes, but I'm guessing we did without them that day. My cousin and I spent the day fishing for crawdads and I was in tomboy heaven. When we came back in the house, the family was preparing to have a fish fry. I remember a sense of dread washing over me from knowing company was coming and here I looked like a mud rat in jeans and
a shirt.... Momma would not be pleased at all. I walked in the kitchen feeling like I desperately needed a bath, when my aunt clasps her hands on each side of her face and exclaimed.... "Oh, My!!! I have never seen you in anything but lacy dresses with bows or with a speak of dirt on you!! You sure look like you're having fun!" And you know, I was... I was totally having the time of my life getting down and dirty. Later when Momma found out that I had tomboy'd it up, she wasn't mad, in fact she felt a little bad for always insisting I be so prim, instead of just letting me have fun. I had a great childhood and I have wonderful parents, but from getting dirty, to ripping the tags off of my pillows, I have always lived within very defined boundaries. I married and had kids at a young age, and like a lot of women became a slave to the daily rituals and organized living of being a mom, without ever exploring parts of myself that I didn't even know existed. Some people call it a mid-life crisis. I call it being handed time and opportunity to explore the different facets of me and to live an abundant life free of fear.

John 10:10 I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.

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