Drama Queen

When I was in the 6th grade, someone told me I was histrionic. 

I had no idea what the word meant at the time, and I never forgot it. 

Again, someone told me the other day that I am overly dramatic and stupidly, it stung to the core. Not that I haven't been told between 6th grade and now - I've been told a million times (okay probably really a few dozen...see, there I go again....). But this time it stung because it came from someone I really respect. And I've really been working on it. But they were totally right to say it. 

I generalize. I exaggerate. Due to some cracked out combination of upbringing and genetics, my world is very big and very loud. Off the cuff remarks cling to me for weeks and won't let go. I see anger and disappointment as the end all - something to be avoided at all costs or else I will die old and alone with only my hundred Labradoodles by my side. I am completely unable to see the shade of gray. 

It doesn't help that i am married to the most introverted, emotionally expressionless man on earth. (No exaggeration there). I showed Frank a YouTube video of people trying to laugh without smiling and told him he missed the filming day. 

In reality he is caring and funny and definitely generous, loving, all those things I am grateful for....but at the end of the day he is just so dang even and stable.....I don't even know. 

This year I really do want to work on my histrionics. I mean, let's say I die in my sleep tonight.....I don't want anyone to feel obligated to lie on my tombstone about how I died in a fiery blaze saving a baby koala from a forest fire while shouting out the plot summary to the next New York Times bestselling novel....because that is a death I would have preferred......I don't want to be remembered as dramatic. Sensitive. Unhappy. Hurting.

Or worst of all, hurtful. 

It's funny because I am always my own worst enemy....but whenever I'm criticized, I'm suddenly able to come to my own defense: "yes, I'm dramatic, but I don't mean it. I know I am overly sensitive, but I don't give up. Yes, I know I can be sarcastic and cutting, but I really do have a good heart." 

I'm really praying that this year, God uses the good in me. I know it's in there, even though I often have to rely upon outside observers in order to recognize it. I'm not rotten to the core - just my first few layers, maybe. But I think (and hope) I'm salvageable. In fact, I know I am because of Christ. It's like I always tell my dancers - God doesn't make junk. 

My prayer this year is that God uses my dramatic flair for good. I have passion. I fall hard. I hurt hard.....but this also means I am capable of loving big, hoping large, persevering strong. 

I Am Whole

I have been waiting my entire life to be complete. 

For as long as I can remember, I've felt fragmented.

When I first became a Christian, honestly not a lot changed. I was so wrapped up in my sin and selfishness that I was grateful for the fire insurance, but wasn't aspiring toward much else. I didn't understand what it meant to chase after God or surrender fully to Him. I was 16 years old, and wow was I angry and broken. I wanted a doctor without paying the bill, I wanted to win a race without training for it. I quickly learned how to "play without playing." 

I have never enjoyed sports, and so P.E. in school was always torture. After I ran out of excuses ranging from sprained ankles to PMS, I started perfecting the whole "playing without playing" charade. 

Softball - Go way, way outfield. If a ball managed to reach out there, run with enthusiasm but not fast enough to reach the ball. 

Basketball - hop around intensely, and if you get the ball, immediately travel with it so you get to sit out. 

Volleyball - hop around similar to basketball, strategically behind a taller person and/or someone who actually wants to play. 

Swimming/Running Laps - be on your period every single Friday, September thru May. 

Christianity for me has been no different. I'm a joiner. I had so much crazy in my life I was likely an easy convert. But for decades now I've played the part of a Christian with fear, disinterest and shortcuts. 

I've had mountaintop experiences, and I've stayed loyal to my faith. I've done what I'm supposed to do, but Jesus, like everyone else in my world, would only come as close as I allowed. 

Since October, that's been slowly changing. This morning,

I was reminded about how I want to quit playing the game. 

I can't blend in behind someone taller, stronger or more capable than myself. God calls us all to a standard, and what sort of fool have I been to believe I could escape the challenge of being me to the fullest? Of being me in Christ? Of Christ living through me? However you word it, the games have ended. 

Sprained ankles, cramps or brain hemorrhage...whatever happens....I am now legitimately running the race. 

I know I'm a few weeks delayed in solidifying my New Years resolutions, but here they are: 

1) I want to love people fully. I feel really ready to do this. I'm not afraid or worried about my heart getting hurt anymore. I want to love how Christ loved. 

2) I want to slow down. I want to throw dinner parties and play Uno with Sam. I want to read nightly out of a bible with pages (and turn off my "smart" phone), and I want to have living room picnics with Charlotte. 

3) I want to be fully obedient to God's call. I know what His voice sounds like now. I can no longer claim He doesn't speak to me, because He most certainly does. He speaks to anyone willing to listen. 

4) I will continually rejoice that each day the past is further behind me, it hurts a little less. I will breathe easy in the realization that suddenly, out of nowhere, I can no longer remember very specific details as to what happened to me. It's fading faster the more I move forward. I will remember that fear isn't real, so how could it possibly be a suitable companion? 

I don't need to wait to be whole....I never will be. And yet, in Christ I already am complete. I am clean, forgiven, set free and granted authority to get the heck out of the pit and work toward making a difference in the little corner of life I've been given. 

My biggest wish was answered long ago when Jesus died on that cross.....I am whole. 

The Great Return

For those who know me in "real" life, you'll know I vented extensively on social media about George, the retail neighbor from Hell. He owned a uniform shop next door to our dance studio on Douglas Blvd and when he came onto the scene, things went crazy. 

Painting his own red zones.

Shouting at the dancers.

Barging into the studio on tirades.

Dropping F bombs fighting with the tenants on the other side of him. 

The dude was a total menace. I tried to go over there once to make peace, but his wife physically held the door shut. 

The police came out twice. They then said that it was all a civil issue, so they wouldn't come out anymore. 

I am terrified of being alone with an angry man. From my dad to my former pastor, I cannot stand shouting, aggressive men. And now, as I was often at the studio alone during the day, I was on my own unable to call for help if he decided to go off the deep end. 

Even more importantly, we work with abuse survivors and girls who have been trafficked. Angry George was not a welcomed addition to our ministry life. 

We moved because of George. Our studio was our dream location, but when things couldn't be resolved, we were outta there. The safety of our girls was number one. 

When we moved, I got a sinking feeling everytime I drove past the old studio. Not surprisingly, they had knocked out the wall and George had expanded his business. 

I know instantly now when God is promoting me to do something. I can't explain the feeling, but it's almost physically uncomfortable, it's so strong. 

I knew God wanted me to go talk to George. 

I battled God on this for over two months. This wasn't my fault. He was the crazy one. It's over and done with. There is absolutely no reason for me to have to interact with this man anymore. 

Go. 

No!!!!

Go. 

So this Monday, I finally went. I reluctantly bought some candy and prayed he wouldn't be in that day. He was. In fact, he was the only one there. 

So this is how I die. Walking into my own murder with a box of chocolate turtles. 

I stumbled over words about how I was sorry things went the way they did, and how God doesn't want us to have enemies in town, etc. 

George not only listened, he responded kindly. And lengthily. We ended up chatting for over an hour. He showed me his heart. He felt genuinely bad that we left, and the landlord had pressured him to take our space since he has driven us away. 

He apologized sincerely. God's grace, example and restoration was all over this conversation. 

And then he asked to make a donation to royal stage. 

Wait, what? 

It's nice to have a friend down the road now. We are going to advertise George's shop in out next playbill. He wants to come apologize to the girls in person. 

God can do cool things. I love hearing His voice and disciplining myself to respond to the call and be obedient. 

I know the story of George isn't very action packed or poignant, but for me, it was filled with victories. 

1) I overcame my fear of an angry man

2) I spoke boldly of God's love 

3) I learned to be humble and say sorry

4) I learned apologies aren't always a result of being to blame. 

5) I got to see someone difficult through God's eyes. 

George said a few times how admirable it was of me to come to the shop and make amends. 

And what little effort it took! 

Truly, can you even fathom the efforts Christ went to to ensure amends were made between us and the Father? It's unbelievable. 

I love restoration. 

Slow Motion

Life is about to slow down, and I'm so excited. 

It's difficult for me to slow down - I want to live life to the fullest and don't want to miss a thing, but at the same time I also keep things fast because it quiets my mind and keeps me on a strong path forward. 

But January has been ridiculous. As I stood backstage at the arena yesterday before our Globetrotters performance, I looked out at the audience and all I could think about was my kids. My husband. My friendships. My heart ached to be at church and I couldn't stop thinking about last night's dinner plates still left abandoned on the dining room table. 

I am taking a sabbatical from ministry Feb 8-March 8. A whole month! :) I love royal stage so much, and I want to continue to love it....so I need this month. I'm going to stop ignoring God's command to rest. 

I haven't taken a 100% break since 2010. I was working from India, I always answer texts on vacations, I've never been completely unavailable before. I am so looking forward to answering to God and God alone for a month. Royal Stage is so strong and healthy right now, and I think a fresh perspective will make it even better. 

It's so hard to not feel guilty though. 

Regardless, I'm looking forward to this. I'm going to organize every nook and cranny of the house. I'm going to spend intentional time with my kids. I have friendships to further and invest in. I'm going to make meal plans and cook often. 

I am so grateful for royal stage. I'm also grateful for my Jesus, on the dance floor or off. I'm eager to accept the challenge to slow down.....it's very difficult for me. 

But I like to do hard things. 

Plot Twist

I expected this week to be crazy. But apparently I was even crazier for thinking I had a handle on it. 

I ate regular meals and slept.

I took my meds on the regular.

I read my bible and prayed daily. 

Then all Hell broke loose. 

But the plot twist was still yet to come. 

First, my purse was snatched out of my car. That day happened to be one of very few times a robber would strike gold due to errands I was about to run: 

1) My debit card 

2) Emergency credit card I've never used

3) Royal Stage cards

4) Checkbooks

5) My passport

6) 75 Harlem Globetrotters tickets

7) $300 in cash I was given for

India

Everything was drained - our personal bank account, ministry money, credit cards maxed out. Sigh. 

Then, last night I got rear ended and the driver sped away without stopping. 

To make all of this even more awesome, our children's musical opened this week.

If there is one way to truly make me shaken, take away my sense of safety. I know this is true for most people, but it affects me very, very deeply. 

I cried all day yesterday, and when the car thing happened tonight, I was so stunned that I couldn't cry. What the heck is going on with this week? 

Of course, I had to push it all aside for the show....because it must go on, right? 

Watching it unfold on stage from the booth was frustrating. There were things I'd been telling the kids since October, and they still weren't doing them. I ran backstage a few times and reminded them - they seemed to hear me, responded like they heard me....but then they went on stage and did the exact opposite. 

So. Frustrating. 

Tonight after our second show I was frustrated and embarrassed. I felt like I had failed the kids because the show could've been so much tighter and cleaner in so many places. 

I smiled and thanked everybody as they exited, and I could feel my face burning red. 

I was done with this week! 

Then a woman, a complete stranger to me who came to see the show, looked me in the eyes and said, "Thank you for reminding me why we wake up." 

Whoa. What? 

"I love what this organization is doing. You reminded me tonight we all have purpose and should use it." 

Humbled. 

A mother of a participant told me how her very shy, hurting daughter has grown into a bright, happy, confident girl.

Another mother told me how her daughter cries and asks for myself and other Royal Stage leaders when she's hurt or upset. 

Humbled.

Older participants are experiencing reconciliation, restoration and joy. 

I am not saying that I am an amazing leader. We couldn't have had the show at all if it wasn't for an AMAZING crew of backstage helpers. And Ginger....oh my gosh, that girl has done so much! 

I am really a hot mess most of the time. I question constantly why God has me

doing this. 

But then He reminds me through people's experiences with us.....

Our ministry exists to teach young people to overcome fears and challenges. 

Our ministry exists to bring healing, hope and restoration. 

Our ministry exists to share God's love and help people experience it when they otherwise may not. 

Our ministry exists to teach young people the importance of showing up, and how every single part is valuable. 

We don't exist to be perfect.

We don't exist to train up elite dancers.

We don't exist to be the best studio.

We don't exist to gain applause. 

Even when I get jealous of other theater companies and dance studios...all the resources they have, the increase in participants because faith doesn't matter there.......

I remember on nights like tonight how I would never trade my spot in the line of the non-profit multitudes. 

My money is gone, but it will be recovered through fraud protection. Royal Stage's too. 

My car is dented, but only very slightly and it runs beautifully. 

I am surrounded by truly wonderful people every day of my life. 

Things are replaceable. Negativie thoughts can annoy me, but I can stop them from destroying me. 

I am safe in Christ when my world is shaken, and through Him I have the ability to love. 

The plot twist in a crazy unstable week turned out to be a rock-solid Father with a perspective on what really matters.

And we have come out victorious. 

Fight.

It's 2:23am. I am going to be so tired in the morning, but as my mind runs in circles, words need to spill out. 

I hate my brain so much. 

This, right now, is the moment of truth. 2am noise is what I've been "training" for. 

I've pinned to the depths of Pinterest. I've kept up with the Kardashians. I've read my bible (forgive me, God that it was my third choice, but to be honest, I am in 1 Chronicles ....), and here I sit. 

The next few hours before the sun comes up are a choice. 

I can freak out and drive my car out to a bridge, or I can tell myself that I know better than to compare my insides to anyone's outsides, and everything is going to be just fine. 

Some recent studies have documented that BPD brains have different patterns of activity than healthy brains (as mentally healthy as any of us are, that is.) That the brain actually forms differently when a child is exposed to trauma, or when there is already mental illness in close connections of the family line. 

I was happy to hear that modern science is finally catching up to what I've known for years. BPD brains are like rebellious summer campers. 

Oh, you are telling me to head over to the cafeteria? Clearly you must actually mean it's time to go canoeing, so I'm gonna go with that. 

But still, this is my choice. I can choose to get out of the water and walk in truth, even when I can't see it clearly. 

I represent 2% of the population. The thoughts and beliefs are often so intense, an incredibly high majority of BPDs self-mutilate. 

Upwards of 10% commit suicide. 

But that's good news, right? That means I have a 90% chance of mastering this whole feat of living healthy and happy. 

But like I said before, even though I know better, it can be hard to remember my insides cannot be compared with others' outsides. 

That look or remark didn't represent who I am as a person. 

Their lack of a return call/text isn't because they are mad at me. 

Thoughts of suicide doesn't mean I have to act on them. 

Feeling unsafe does not mean I am in danger. 

I can be in charge of my body, even though it doesn't feel like I can be. When you have surgery, your guts are still all yours even though you're too numb to really prove they are still there at the moment. Even though I cannot see or feel Truth, I can still remind myself it's still there. 

I'm the one running, not it. 

I need to remember there is a difference between being held vs. healed by God. The latter still hasn't happened. 

But what an honor still to be held by Him!  One writer described BPD as excruciating pain from the psyche. Um, true. It sucks. It sucks to constantly think that people hate you, that you are ugly and shameful, that harming your body will bring relief, that you'll never feel better again, that people who said they will be there have left you. 

That God has left you. 

But everyone has their pain, and with whom would i trade? At least with this, I know where the punches come from. 

I am not currently experiencing the above mentioned. I'm inching closer to the edge of the cliff where I can look straight down and see it all, but I'm still on top. 

I feel incredibly lonely. 

I feel very unloved/unlovable right now. 

It defies logic - I've had an amazing week. 

But this does not have to be a relapse when it can be turned into a rescue. 

This does not have to be looking back, when there is still so much more life to live ahead. 

I can choose to not care what the tyrants of my mind say to me. I can't choose to hear, but I can choose to not listen. 

If you feel tonight that you're all alone, if you're up at now 2:53am wondering where relief can be found, remember that God is there. 

I'm thankful for the opportunity to talk to him at 2am. Beat the crowds, you know? 

Many people say, “Who will show us better times?” Let your face smile on us, LORD. You have given me greater joy than those who have abundant harvests... (Psalms 4:6-7 NLT)