A Lifetime of Wishing....and the Four F's.

I have spent a lifetime of wishing.  Wishing we didn't move every time I finally made a friend (every 3 years almost to the month).  Wishing my brothers and father didn't pick on me until I cried.  Wishing I didn't "think and process" things so differently from everyone else.  Wishing if I was just perfect, then everything would be OK.   Heck, that was all before middle school even hit!  Wishing my nose was like my brother's - the girls I thought were my friends told me (in the halls of high school, a little too bit too loudly) if I had his nose on my face, I'd be pretty.  When he wasn't interested in them, I found they weren't really my friends, but the message had stuck.  Wishing I made better choices with boyfriends. Wishing I had not made that painful decision at 19.  Wishing I had made a better choice for a husband, the father of my children.  Wishing I was more organized.  Wishing I could just "fit" into a group, any group, just once.  Wishing I had a bigger family.  Wishing I could have stay married to my 1st husband because he did have a big family - loads of aunts, uncles, cousins (they were Italian – what do you expect!).  Wishing that divorces never have to happen.  Wishing people didn't hate me "just because..." Wishing that learning disabilities didn't have to be passed on to the next generation.  Wishing the affects of emotional or physical abuse didn't have generations of affect.  Wishing I had gone to college.  Wishing that I wasn't so stubborn.  And most of all, wishing I had more...  More money, more house, more friends, more - well you get the picture.

Today I had a meltdown and as I call it, a God slap.  You know them.  He taps you, He nudges you, He whispers to you and you ignore it, until one day - BAM, right across your very soul - it happens; it hurts; you get it.  You get what He has been saying.  What He so patiently has been trying to get you to see, or learn, or do.   This week I was making the food for the Teacher's Appreciation Room and, boy, were they appreciative.  So the ego was swelling, the "I've got to top last night" was flowing, and my arm was breaking from the back patting I was doing.  And then right there, in my kitchen, it happened.   In the middle of the oven filling the house with smoke, the pasta boiling over on the stove, me realizing I was not going to be able to make the treats I had planned - 2 words in HUGE black & white letters in front of my face - SELF WORTH.  You see, I had been taking some pictures of the cooking messes for a blog and thought "Oh, I don't want to post pictures of my small kitchen, without granite countertops, or solid wood cabinets, or porcelain sink or upscale appliances or ceramic tiles, ...  Because what only a few know (because it would be just too embarrassing to voice out loud), is how inadequate "circumstances and things" make me feel.  In other words, where my self-worth gets all mixed up.

God has been patiently trying to get me to learn my worth in His eyes.  That He created me just the way He wanted and for the purposes He needed me to fulfill.    So remember the "wishing I wasn't so stubborn" comment above?  This is where that comes in.  I have been in and out of my "Job" mode for years.  I have identified with Job, lamented with him, cried with him, and found peace through his ordeals.  Each painful time, thinking I had learned my lesson.  But I hadn't.  God has spent years slowly peeling my layers of dependence on family, friends, and monies away.  Yet each time He lovingly gives me a chance to heal and hopefully have learned.  I haven't.  First the nice house went and we had to downsize when we moved to PA and then again to VA.  God did bless us with a nicer, albeit smaller house in VA, but could I be satisfied?  No.  Family that speaks to me? - down to Skip, Katy and my Dad.  (About 3 years ago He did bless me with a new mom and along with her came a sister I never had, a great brother-in-law and a just perfect niece)  Blew that learning experience too and now I'm 4 hours from the sister and family and over a 1000 miles from my Dad.  Finances?  Every time we get a nice nest egg, you got it, something major happens.   Friends?  Yep, over 4 hours from the first really good friends that I have had in many many years.   So, here I am, in rural Virginia with no neighbors (within hollering distance), no real shopping places (except Walmart & Food Lion – both places I was boycotting at different points), no real entertainment (except Friday nights at the Ruritan Lot in Callao for the church softball game!) and no boat (you can only enjoy all this water if you have a boat, have a friend with a boat, live on one of the rivers, have friends that live on a river, or – well, you get the picture).  God has me pinned and no where to turn but up.

But what I do have is Faith - and a giant helping of it too.  Faith in an awesome God that loves me and only wants the best for me.  Faith in Jesus, a man that thought I was worthy enough to hang on a cross and die for.  Faith in Grace, the grace God gives me even though I don’t deserve it.  Faith in the knowledge that as long as Jesus is personal to me, I will spend eternity in a place that nothing, nowhere, or no one on earth could ever even come close to.  And Faith in His peace, a peace that passes all human understanding.
 
I will cling to Job’s story – 42 chapters later, we learn that he was given much money, a gold ring, 14,000 sheep, 6,000 camels, 2000 cattle, 1,000 donkeys, fathered 7 sons, 3 daughters, lived 140 years after his trial, and long enough to see his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  Personally I could skip the animals.  Second thought, I do love to hear a donkey bray, just not so keen on a thousand of them!  Well I don’t want to complain or tell the Lord his business, but I wouldn’t be so thrilled about 10 more pregnancies in my 50’s either!!

I said “I get it” but I am far from understanding it, personalizing it, and living it.  I covet all your prayers in this new leg of my journey.   I really want to get it this time.  I am down to the bare bones of family, friends, finances and possessions and don’t care to have any more layers peeled.   So I will cling to the end of Job’s story and all his blessings.  I will work hard on changing my mantra from “wishing and hoping” to more “trusting and obeying”.  God bless each of you that have been on, are now on, or will be joining me on another path towards my journey Home!!!   

If wishes were horses, beggars would be riders

words of wisdom from one of my soul-mates  - love ya Lisa!

You asked for it; you got it - my first ever blog!

Not having a clue how to blog, or why someone would want to read my blog (blog just reminds me of Charlie Brown's teacher talking) I still went ahead and created a blog.  Well, it's actually creating itself because I can't figure it out and my daughter won't stop laughing in order to help me.

Not having a thing to write, worthy of your time to read it,  I decided to Google my name.   I have never cared for my name and tried desperately all my life to get a nickname.   My best friend in younger years was also a Cheryl Lynn but she was lucky enough to have the nickname Cheri.  I tried hard for years to only answer to Cheri but it didn't work, they talked to me even if I wouldn't answer.  Our favorite pasttime in 5th grade Sunday School was to take turns answering to Cheri/Cheryl to confuse the teachers.  Ahh, the joys of being 10!!  I have had a few nicknames throughout the years but none that have ever stuck.  The first one I can remember was from my older brother and I won't be posting that one.  The next was from my younger brother and 2 of his friends and it wasn't much better.  They later became his wife and my first husband.  Thank goodness the name died with both of those romances as Dingy just isn't one of my favorite names either.  The other one I had for awhile was from my funny husband (who is also my present, last and forever husband) and it was Skeeter.  Aptly named because I was always buzzing around and annoying him.  Since he hasn't called me that for a few years now, either I'm no longer annoying, or he has gotten used to it (I'm pretty sure it is just the later).  He likes my name and thinks it's pretty (just like me he says!).  The way he says my name when he speaks it with adoration; is pretty.  Unfortunately I can't say it in writing for you to hear it and enjoy it also.  The next time you see me, if you really want to hear it, I will attempt to imitate him.  I can also imitate lots of things I have annoyed him with too should you need a few extra laughs.  However, when he is annoyed with me, it comes out completely different and I am back to not liking my name.   So by now you are probably tired of my ramblings about Cheryl, and wondering, just what does it mean.  Here you go:

1. French: Beloved
2. English: Bright
3. English: Charity

So I guess my husband is right, the name is pretty and it does have nice meanings.  It took me close to 50 years to stop trying to be a perfectionist and now that is all blown.  With a name like Cheryl to live up to, I'd better get busy and figure out how to be,...well, .....   Cheryl!  Or perhaps someone can just come up with a nice funny nickname that already encompasses who I am and I will be forever eternally grateful!