Ladyrebecca’s Musings and Ramblings

The other day, we were at Lowe’s looking at garden sheds. We like to look at them and visualize a tiny house made out of them. This day, Israel and I had moved on to shed number two while Jael continued to play in shed number one. While discussing the advantages and disadvantages to a captain’s ladder versus minimized stairs, we heard a scream from shed number one. Jael being Jael, we figured she was simply having lots of fun and enjoying being as loud as she wanted to be. We stepped out of shed number two, ready to head into to the cool of the air conditioned store.

Great Black Wasp - Sphex pensylvanicus

Jael screamed again, this time as she ran out of the shed, crying. Two black hornet or wasp-like insects following her. Israel scooped her up and ran her about twenty feet away. We quickly examined Jael and found only three stings (I know, “only” three but it could have been so much worse). She had two on her leg and one on her arm. We had just finished our Italsian Sodas and had about two inches of crushed ice in the bottom of each cup. We pressed the ice against the stings as an associate from the Garden Center came over to see if we needed help. She offered their first aid kit, which contained a sting treatment. We took her up on her offer and headed inside.

Once inside, Israel carried Jael to the service counter where we applied some alcohol/lidocaine wipes to the stings and continued to ice them, with the aid of an ice pack. Jael’s sobs had decreased into simple sniffles and the swelling of the stings was going down. We were very glad of this as her grandfather was horribly allergic as a child and we were not sure as to Jael’s reaction to stings.

So, the good news, which was received painfully, is that Jael is no more allergic to wasp/hornet stings than the next person.

Oh, and Lowe’s, at least in D’Iberville, on that day, had great customer service. We actually had a number of employees ask if we needed help and they were very kind. Of course, I realize they were simply lawsuit-proofing themselves but I don’t care. A smile and a kind word are always appreciated.

While flipping though a recently filled journaling/shopping list/sermon note/random lists book, I came upon this observation:

Does the fact that I don’t believe the Bible verse, “His (God’s) commandments are not burdensome,” reveal a serious lack of faith? The two greatest commandments, says Jesus, are to love the Lord and love our neighbors. So loving is not burdensome but it is. I believe the Bible is true and that Jehovah is God Almighty. So the wrong is with me. Why? How do I get over it?

So many wrong ways of thinking are revealed here. The one which seems clearest deals with self-loathing and personal value, something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. I spent over a decade and a half of my twenty-seven years on this earth struggling with low self esteem and self-loathing. During the last six months to a year, a lot of those struggles have disappeared. When my sister asked what I had done to get over or rid of self-loathing, I struggled to answer her. There have been so many changes, both to me and around me, I wasn’t really sure exactly what happened to reveal to me, my own intrinsic worth.

The number one factor is my husband. He is my biggest fan. He’s hugely encouraging and always ready to tell me I’m wonderful and beautiful and brilliant. But I can’t share him. Wanting something to pass on to my sister and others I know, I’ve spent the last two weeks mulling over the question, “Who do you rid yourself of self-loathing when you don’t have an Israel Walker in your corner?”. I’ve talked with my husband at length, started at least one blog, and have talked with some close friends about it. The answer I’ve come to is that it’s all about belief; heart belief to be specific. What you really believe in your heart of hearts. Some things which, were you to voice them out loud, you would deny believing but deep inside you embrace them as truth.

One of the main beliefs whose dismissal has changed my view of self is revealed in this passage from my journal.

I said, “The wrong is with me.” Because I believed the Bible was true, literal and the inspired word of God and exactly as modern Christianity said it was, when it said that God’s commandments weren’t burdensome and yet I found them so, the only answer was that I had a problem. If I take myself back three years ago and I imagine a friend coming to me and explaining that she finds loving people to be burdensome and asks what to do about it, I would have answered that she was trying too hard to do it on her own. I would have advised that she rely more on Jesus to love people through her and not lean so much on her own understanding.

The problem resided in me. It was my fault. I was either not “faithing” enough or not trying enough. I didn’t have enough discipline. I was too busy seeking pleasure. Simply, I wasn’t good enough.

If I wasn’t finding joy in Bible reading, it was a failure in me. It couldn’t possibly be that bible reading wasn’t something I enjoyed and therefore not joyful. I wasn’t good enough.

Other parts of my “Christian” doctrine supported this. As a teen I was given a list of statements about my identity in God. I was a child of God, saved by grace, filled with the Holy Spirit, etc. This was how I was to build my self esteem. By realizing I was these things, I wasn’t supposed to be discouraged by the world’s view of me.

Yet, I only had this identity in God because Jesus had died for me. Without that, I was worthless, all my goodness as filthy rags.

A couple of thoughts sprang from this. If I’m a dirty rotten sinner without Jesus, (This is one of those heart beliefs I spoke of earlier. Most Christians would refute this belief but deep inside it’s what many believe and I certainly did.) then Jesus died for a loser and God loved and was willing to sacrifice his son for a world of worthless people. Jesus must not have valued his life very highly to give it up for piles of crap.

I wouldn’t step in front of a speeding bus to save a cage of hamsters. My life has more value than that. However, if they carried, within them, the cure for AIDS or cancer or depression, suddenly they have value and are worth my life.

So by believing I was worthless without Jesus, I not only removed the value of my own life, but also from Jesus’ as well.

The other thought turns to the promises of the Bible. To be honest, I’m not sure how many of these “promises” are actually Biblical but they are definitely “Christian.” You will find joy in the Lord. Your day will go better if you have a quiet time. You will feel peace when you spend enough time praying and meditating on the things of the Lord.

These didn’t work for me. Focusing on who God said I was didn’t lift my self esteem. Reading the Bible, praying, “pressing into the Lord,” none of it brought about character or behavior change nor did it even make me happy. Happiness or contentment being the safety net if everything else fails. “You should find contentment in the Lord. Be content where you are. Bloom where you are planted.” etc.

To paraphrase what Israel said in a blog, “I didn’t want to feel better about my crappy character and unhealthy behavior; I wanted to not have a crappy character and not have unhealthy behavior.”

Another thing I believed was that a wife should be submissive to her husband. I was never raised believing this made exploitation or abuse acceptable but simply that the wife was to put the husband’s needs and wants before her own. Another quote from my journal:

The Lord said to me: …Your job is to minister to Israel. You will have other ministries but right now, your sole ministry is to Israel.

I asked: How?

He says: What means a lot to Israel? A clean house? Clean the house. Your time? Give him your time. Your full attention? Give him your full attention. Your enthusiasm? Be enthused. Ask in my name and I will give it.

Jesus, I ask in your name for more enthusiasm when it comes to things that interest Israel. In Jesus name, I ask that what he finds interesting, I would find interesting.

I should change. I should mold myself around Israel. Why would God create me as me if He only wanted me to be a drone of Israel? It’s not even what Israel wanted then nor wants now.

Because I believed I was his help meet and nothing more, what I wanted to do with my life wasn’t important.

When I was a high school freshman I had an English Literature teacher who encouraged me to go to college. I said I didn’t want to, that all I wanted to do was be a stay at home mom and raise my kids (homeschooling of course) to be godly men and women. I thought I would raise them to be something amazing. Of course, if I never did anything with my talents but be a stay at home mom, why would my daughters aspire to anything else, but that’s another blog. I said “no” to college because I thought my place was at my husband’s side, supporting his dreams and his passions.

A couple of months ago, Israel found a bit of information which rocked my world. He came across a discussion about the apostle Junia(s) (Romans 16:7). There is debate as to whether this is a man’s name or a woman’s name. There is support on both sides but it leans toward being a female name. A female apostle wrecks a lot of havoc with other verses and beliefs regarding women in the church and the leadership roles they are or are not to take. Finding out that there may be biblical record of a female apostle is not what really rocked me. What bothered me was that I was twenty-six years old before I found out it was even a possibility. I grew up being taught that women should not be in leadership, until I joined the Rock, which taught that men and women are to partner in leadership but never drew upon Junia as an example. With this simple name, I began to take an honest look at some of my deep seated heart beliefs and began to reject many of them.

Around this time I also read a book called “The Fat Girl’s Guide to Life” and it, too, had a profound effect on me. I began to see where my self loathing had come from.

I’m fat. I’ve not always been fat but I’ve always been a big person. I have a large frame and I’ve always had a good amount of muscle. But since the third grade, or there abouts, I’ve thought I was fat. And with this fat came a whole slew of unanticipated baggage. If someone was rude to me, it was because I was fat. If I didn’t get the part in the school play, it was because I was fat. If I didn’t have a boyfriend, it was because I was fat. If I wasn’t having a quiet time it was because I was lazy (a.k.a. fat). Fat became the reason behind every bad thing that happened to me.

It wasn’t until I read Shanker’s book that I realized how unhealthy and unrealistic blaming everything on weight was. I began to ask myself where this idea of fat being synonomous with lazy, unlovable, undesirable, untalented, and worthless came from.

The conclusion I came to was startling. My religion told me I sucked. I felt within that I wasn’t really that bad and so subconsciously I found something abhorrence worthy within myself to hate. My weight was an easy target. Our culture readily agreed with my prognosis of ugliness and inadequacy so it was an easy transition to begin hating myself for my fatness rather than for the unbelievable innate worthlessness Christianity told me I had.

Letting go of the religious lies I’d been told, whether purposely or not, was the really big change; the change heralding in the rest.

During the time of belief cleansing I began to challenge my view of sex. I think I was a fairly unprudish woman with a healthy sexual appetite but when I began to see myself as someone with value, I found myself incredibly desirous of my husband. My sex drive kicked into overdrive, much to Israel’s delight. As I began having more frequent and more fulfilling sex, I felt more desired. As I felt more desired, I wanted sex more. It was a fun self propagating circle.

I began to feel sexy and beautiful. My naked form in the mirror did not induce gagging as it once had. I began to see the beauty in my full thighs and supple abdomen.

I also began belly dancing. Belly dancing is very sensual. It does not have to be sexual. I read a book, “Grandmother’s Secrets: The Ancient Rituals and Healing Power of Belly Dancing,” which told of Arabic women belly dancing for and with the women in their family and community. It was a dance of life, a dance to celebrate a girl’s entrance into the realm of womanhood, a dance to ease the pain of childbirth, a dance to share with one’s granddaughters, and a dance to mourn the passing of a loved one. It was feminine and beautiful. It was full of life and vigor. It made me feel alive and graceful.

I practiced belly dancing in my living room, in front of a full length mirror, with my pants or skirt pulled low on my hips and my shirt tucked up under my bra. As I danced, I watched the way my body moved and found it pleasing. I watched the way my muscles jumped when I flexed them and saw beauty. I shimmmed and reveled in the way my belly undulated.

I started taking care of myself. I began to eat healthier. Not because I needed to lose weight. I ate healthier because I was worth taking care of and I deserved to feel more energetic and clear headed.

I started taking care of my appearance. I was worth those couple of extra minutes.

After meeting a weight loss goal (for my health I do need to lose some weight but it is no longer a life sucking obsession), I got my hair cut. The haircut and products were nearly $100 but I was worth it. I don’t have to look like a frumpy old woman.

I started studying and reading books which previously I would have overlooked as “too technical” or “too involved.” For what? My tinee-tiny little brain?

I started looking into taking college classes. I have been given intelligence and it is wrong to squander it.

We had some of the guys from Israel’s shop over for dinner. Not the crappy guys you might have heard us complaining about. These were intelligent guys. They were fun and flirty with me, which Israel didn’t mind and I really liked. For some reason, I was suddenly able to see what Israel had been telling me for years. I was beautiful and desirable. I had believed for so long that Israel was attracted to me more out of duty than out of actual attractiveness on my part. Having these two single guys, well versed in the ways of the world, find me attractive was hugely encouraging.

Because these friends, the guys and others, were not “ministry opportunities” or “prayer concerns,” we were able to just be ourselves and enjoy having friends. We enjoyed having them over and there was never any pressure to “turn the conversation to things of the Lord.” We could just be our selves and give ourselves to our friends and receive what they had to offer. Both parties left feeling rejuvenated and eager for the next meeting.

Instead of feeling quilt at the end of every night because I’d made love to Israel, wrote a blog, and made curtains instead of spending time with God, I felt happy I’d had a day so full of life.

So was my newfound self-respect and, dare I say, self love, a result of turning my back on religiousness? Or was it making friends and realizing I was liked for me? Or was it bringing my weight under control?  Or was it realizing a life half lived is one not lived at all?

I don’t know. As I said, so many things have happened and changed at the same time, I’ve no idea which was cause and which was effect. All I know is I’ve quit trying to be a perfect christian; I don’t count calories; I try to do things which bring me joy; I try to spend time with people who have something to offer me and to whom I have something to offer in return. Maybe that’s the secret to happiness. It’s working well for me and mine.

My goal with this blog was to keep distant friends and family updated on what was going on in our lives. I got a bit sidetracked in rants of the world at large and seemed to bog myself down with an unrealistic expectation of “great” writing.

Today, I’m going to force myself to simply tell what’s been going on in our lives without delving to deeply into a myriad of details.

Jael has been making huge leaps into the world of independence. Due to the heat of Mississippi, which I’m sorry to say, we have acclimatized to, we’ve been swimming almost every day, sometimes twice a day. As a result, we’ve been showering a lot, too. The other day, I had to do some stuff before I could hop in the shower with Jael so after starting the water, I handed her a washcloth and told her I’d be with her in a bit. A couple of minutes later, she asked if I could help her get the shampoo open. I helped her open it and get some in her hands and then I left again. A couple minutes after that, she asked if I could hand her a towel. I walked into the bathroom and the shower was turned off. She assured me that she had washed and rinsed her body and her hair and that she’d conditioned and rinsed her hair. I was ecstatic! So the next day, I asked if she could take care of her shower by herself. She said she could so I went upstairs to my bathroom and showered alone. When I got downstairs, she was out of the shower and dressed. Then yesterday, she told me before she got in that she could do it herself and that I should go shower in my bathroom. I was more than happy to oblidge.

All of this swimming we’ve been doing has started to have an effect. Jael, I am proud to say, can swim. She can move through the water with no assistance while keeping her head above the water. She’s even started to swim underwater a bit, although that’s a bit slow going as she insists on pinching her nose closed. She’s become quite fearless and will jump with abandon into the pool and doggy paddle to the side and do it again. Her favorite game to play in the pool is “Lightning McQueen and Sherriff,” which is a little game she’s made up. She is Lightning, naturally, and I am Sheriff. She swims to one side of the pool and I have to “catch” her. I then drag her back to the stairs and put her in “jail.” I swim away to the other side and she “escapes” and I “catch” her again and put her back in “jail,” all the while, talking in a “sheriffy” voice. It’s fun but slightly repetitive.

I’m playing a Facebook game called “Knighthood” and am having far too much fun with it. I’m currently a vassal of Israel’s but I’m going to lead a rebellion and steal his vassals. He’s okayed this as he’s tired of playing the game.

I’m finishing up a lengthy series of Fantasy literature. I started reading David Eddings’ “The Pawn of Prophecy,” the first book in the Belgariad series. I burned through the five book in that series and started on the next five book series, which involved the same characters from the first. I’m now on book five of The Mallorean and as much as I’ve enjoyed them, I’m ready to rejoin my family and not have my nose buried in a book all the time. I would highly recommend these books but be advised: They are addictive.

Israel is taking two college classes, an intermediate algebra class and a speech class. I think he’s enjoying them but it does take him away two nights a week which is less than ideal but really not that bad comparatively.

Our vacuum died and we are going to order a new one online as no store in the area sells the model we want. We are going to get a Bissel Lift Off. I think that’s the name of it. It’s red. I know that much. I’m very excited as our thirty dollar vacuum was never more than barely adequate.

That’s all I can think of saying today. We are going to go blue berry picking today…provided it’s not storming. I’m sitting here listening to thunder rumble across. I hope it clears up by 10 because I will be really disappointed. Maybe we can pick in the rain if it’s not lightning. *crossing fingers*

So Israel and I had this big date planned but I had nothing to where. All right, truthfully, I just didn’t want to wear anything I had.

I have the bright idea that I’ll make something. I just got my sewing machine back from the repair shop. It was an old 1950’s Singer clone and had worked great for many years. A couple of months ago it had stopped working. I took it in, it worked fine for them so they cleaned it, replaced some worn parts and charged us over $80. So I started working on a shirt I had the pattern for. I planned on making a practice shirt out of some funky material I bought some time ago. I got it all cut out and started sewing Saturday morning. I finished half a seam when my machine jammed. Apparently, there was in fact something wrong with my machine.

I called Israel in tears. I had until Monday night to finish a shirt and a skirt and my machine just took a crap. He calmly told me to go buy a new machine. So I did a bit of research, found a machine that seemed to have good reviews and then tried to find somewhere in the area that sold them. No luck. The only place that carried them was Hancock Fabrics and they only carried Refurbished machines. I went to Hancock anyway and talked to one of the ladies there for quite a while about their machines and finally decided on a Bernina Bernette.

I brought it home and started working on my outfit. The new machine worked great. The next morning, I switched threads and started sewing. The thread tension was all wrong. I read the manual and adjusted the tension. No effect. I tried rethreading the top thread. No effect. I rethreaded the bobbin thread. No effect. I got online and “googled” “Bernette trouble shooting” and what do you know but I found lots of unhappy customers. I read review after review and question after question from people who were very unhappy with their Bernette. I was sick to my stomach and ready to cry. The fabric store didn’t open until 1 pm, it being Sunday, and the repair shop had proved it’s worthlessness already. That and they were so back logged on repairs I knew they’d not get it fixed that day.

So I sat back down and tried rethreading again. No luck. I rethreaded the bobbin and realized it didn’t look quite right. I rethreaded again and looked the same. I figured it must just be different than I was used to. I decided to try once more and very carefully rethreaded, trying to catch the thread in the place it seemed like it should go. Suddenly, the thread caught in a place it had not been catching and when I tried sewing, it worked great!!

I had been threading the bottom thread wrongly. What a relief! I resumed sewing like crazy and finished the shirt. I started on the skirt and had it all finished except the hem by Sunday night. Monday morning, Israel marked the hem for me, I hemmed it and I was good to go. YAY!!

So at the end of this all, I realize, my husband is amazing. I called him crying, and instead of asking what I wanted him to do about it, he told me to go buy a new one. We’d had issues with my sewing machine before and he knew it was time. He just calmly told me to go spend about $300 and not have this problem any more. He’s fricking amazing!!

Jael received four shots today as we continued our game of catch-up with the vaccinations. As we answered countless questions, the nurse asked, “And her vaccinations are current?”

And I had to answer, “Actually, no.”

Don’t ask me why I didn’t think of that as something we should do before we head overseas. I just spaced it…kind of like sunscreen. So we headed to the immunization office and Jael got her four shots, after screaming only a little bit before hand. As soon as they were done, she was good. She was fairly excited about the Bugs Bunny band-aids she received.

She has one more to get in four weeks and then she’s all caught up. Then I’ve my “overseas screening” appointment next week and then we are medically cleared to go to Germany. YAY!

Tonight, for dinner, I grilled steak. I bought some really high quality lean steak and it was so worth it. I cooked them to perfection; brown outside, warm red in the center. Israel’s was purple and cool in the middle like he likes it. It was the best steak I’ve ever had. It was also the rarest so that may have had something to do with it.

Israel once ordered a steak “blood rare” and had the waitress throw it down in front of him with, “That’s disgusting.” As he cut into the steak and began to eat it, he noticed everyone at the table watching him. He looked up and one guy asked him, “So…how’d you get into that?” Like it was sado/masochism of something. I guess it’s weirder than I thought.

And we had corn on the cob. It was amazing. Some of the best I’ve ever had. I think I might buy more next week. Yum.

And another one

Forgive me.

I’m sorry but here’s another

Yikes!

Hooked on a feeling…and a little crack, me thinks.

This is the strangest vid I’ve seen in long, long time and seeing as how I was disturbed by it, it only seemed fair to disturb you as well.

Enjoy!!

We, Jael and I, are headed to the beach today with our Moms and Tots group. Should be fun. There’s a slight chance of rain but it’s looking pretty nice out. Jael’s still got a bit of a cough but it seems to be more from a tickle in her throat than chest congestion. Hopefully she’s feeling better by tomorrow. She’s a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon for her “overseas screening” and I don’t know how that will work with her being a little under the weather. I guess we’ll see.

I’ll post some pictures from the beach when I get back…if I remember to take my camera.

Well, I remembered the camera but forgot to take any pictures but that’s not the only thing I forgot. I also forgot to put sunscreen on Jael or myself. She’s burned and so am I. I could care about my own sunburn, I do it all the time. I feel like an absolute heel about Jael’s sunburn. I’m struggling to not feel depressed about it. There is this internal dialog which is telling me over and over again that I am a crappy mom, far to irresponsible to be in charge of a human life. I look at the sharp contrast between her white swimsuit shaped skin and her sunburned skin and I just want to cry. I feel like total crap.

But, I recognize that beating myself up over it will not make it go away so I am trying to use this to help me remember to sunscreen up before we leave the house next time we go to the beach.

On a happier note, Jael had a great time at the beach. We walked to the waterfront in front of our apartment and then down the beach to the place we were meeting our friends. She played in the surf and the sand for about two and a half hours before we walked back. She laid down at 1:30, got up to pee at 2:30 and slept until after 5. YAY!!

Later.

Not doing much today. We went grocery shopping and spent $112. I thought it would be a lot higher actually since we bought so much produce but I guess not. Of course, it’s higher than it has been but what to expect with the American dollar’s value plummeting the way it is.

I don’t want to go off on this or anything but I just want to say that there isn’t a “world food crisis” that is making our food get more expensive. We have a quickly deteriorating dollar and it’s massive amounts of inflation which is causing our food prices to go up. You know that “economic stimulus” money you received from the federal government? Yeah, that’s what happens when they print $600 for every person in the US. The dollar falls like a rock.

And what is this about the “food crisis” being caused by the emerging middle class in India and China being able to eat meat, eggs, and milk? One of Israel’s friends said, “Wait, 60% of Americans are overweight and it’s China and India’s fault because their poor can now eat meat and drink milk?”

Yup. It’s not that we should just stop buying pop-tarts and start vegetable gardens. No, no, no. The rest of the world should stay down so we can stay up. Seems totally fair, after all, we were here first, right?

Glad all the Native Americans didn’t feel that way about us or our forefathers would never had made it through that first winter. ARGH!

Jael’s not feeling well today. She’s been running a really low-grade fever for a couple of days. Not fun. But she’s really cuddly, which is fun so I guess there are trade offs.

Well, Israel is in the kitchen playing with matches, rubbing alcohol, foil, and a glass jar. Not sure what’s up but I think I’d like to be there for the grand finale. See you all later.