Posted in commentary, Yahweh's fingerprints

TEARS AND PRAYERS FOR HAITI

Posted on by sassysheisme

I haven’t commented much on the tragedy that exploded onto the airwaves reporting a major earthquake on the island of Haiti that has killed thousands. To be quite honest, I get overwhelmed when tragedy of this enormity strikes. As someone who stood next to my brother’s bedside as he slipped away in death, I know the weight of tremendous and inexpressible grief. To multiply that by 100,000… I just can’t wrap my brain around that.

Entire families are just…gone. People all over the world are sitting by the phone and are scanning the internet trying to ascertain the wellbeing of loved ones. Relief is pouring in from all over the world, but the pain is still a sinkhole that seems to keep growing for those who remain or who have been left behind.

From all these years learning to see inside myself, I have learned to see outside myself. I could, like many, choose to just pretend this tragedy didn’t happen, go on with my life, head in the sand. In the past several years, however, my worldview has changed. I have friends from all over the world and I have friends serving God all over the world. I also journey with a community called Ecclesia, a richly creative and unique garden that has helped me grow in ways I don’t think I would journeying anywhere else. I am often challenged to think beyond my own borders and outside the box, and from those challenges, inspired to take action (in whatever form is appropriate at the time).

I just viewed some heartbreaking photos of people who lost their lives, most crushed by buildings or dying in the aftermath. It’s been awful to see how some people have reacted, especially people like Pat Robertson, who have once again thrust their most un-Christlike thoughts into the media in the name of Jesus. People like Pat, who rise up in the midst of devastation to declare God has judged this devastated country and it’s hurting people with this earthquake are one of the reasons I often refer to myself as a recovering Evangelical if I have to label myself as anything other than a broken Christ-follower or Sassy beloved of God.

I have struggled to try to find a nice way of telling the world that Pat Robertson does not represent the mind of Christ in this matter nor does he represent me, broken Christ-follower, Sassy beloved of God. Fortunately, I read this blog by author Donald Miller who articulated exactly how I felt without me having to give Mr. Robertson’s misguided words any more of my creative energy.

One thing I would add, though, is that perhaps Mr. Robertson needs to forget any fancy seminary training he may have had and learn how all this really works:

‘Love the Eternal One your God with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is nearly as important, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ Matthew 22: 37-39 (The Voice)

As a friend once told me, if you get these two directives down, the rest just falls into place. While I witness the outpouring of love in Haiti, I can see that there are people out there who really do get it, no seminary degree or formal spiritual training necessary.

I can’t be there in person, brothers and sisters in Haiti, but the action I can engage in this moment is prayer, which I know really does work beyond the realm of my understanding.

I’m so thankful Pat Robertson doesn’t know me and had no words to offer me when my heart was breaking and I was overwhelmed with grief and the world didn’t make sense any more. I am thankful for the reminder, though, Pat, that if my first thought in the face of tragedy isn’t love or compassion or mercy, perhaps it’s better if I just shut up instead.

Posted in about shae, femininity, Yahweh's fingerprints

THEY WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME (PURSES, HATS, AND VICTORIAN LILAC)

Posted on by sassysheisme

These days, I find myself knee-deep in satin and girl time. I can say, “mani-pedi” and not giggle and have even expressed the desire to get one. I actually went to a store last week with the sole purpose of buying a leather purse, and did indeed purchase one. I went a shade darker with my hair and had my eyebrows waxed. I have recently purchased two hats that do not have any logos on them and they are not baseball caps.

This is me in 2010.

I am nowhere near becoming a fashionista or a pink and lace girly girl, and, yes, this journey began a long time ago. I did, however, become keenly aware of the transformation last June when I stood in DSW taking pictures of shoes with my phone. I sent them to my Shoe Diva, Sharon, in California to ask which shoes I should buy.

Mind you, Sharon is in law school and was aiding me during the fashion emergency by texting me while in class. This Shoe Diva knows her priorities.

The questions came rapid fire.

“Dress or pants?” she asked (while adding her complete delight and glee that I was asking her about shoes).

“Could be either. I haven‘t decided yet.”

“Dancing?”

“Yes.”

“The strappy ones on the left.”

Done. Back to law.

I scooped up the shoebox and put it under my arm before I changed my mind about buying shoes all together.

A male salesman, who had walked past me several times during the whole exchange, walked up to me and laughed. “Shoe emergency?”

“Wedding.”

“Dress or pants?”

It then occurred to me that not only was I generally lacking in fashion execution, I was horribly ignorant of the lingo and had no idea that pretty shoes could do more than serve an aesthetic purpose. Shoes could be pretty and practical and a) worn with just a dress, b) worn with just pants, or c) worn with either pants or dress and could d) be worn to dance in and still be pretty.

Being feminine is hard work and I feel as if I need a student visa to study in this foreign country, but I digress.

This summer, beginning June 5th, I will attend or be a big part of three weddings that will all happen in a six week span. Two years ago, I would have faked a family death to remove myself from such discomfort. My comfort zone does not include tulle, tossed bouquets or fancy dresses and definitely not pantyhose. If I wear pantyhose for you, that is LOVE. Remember that.

Something very strange has happened to me in the last year. After a couple of really nice weddings where I knew the bride and groom well, weddings moved out of a vestibule of hell and became a not so dreaded part of life. Then, after a wedding where the bride and groom were about ready to jump out of their skins they were so excited to begin their lives together as man and wife, I walked out saying, “I can see myself having a wedding someday.”

If my mother weren’t already dead, upon hearing those words, she would be now. Anyone who has known me longer than two or three years is probably in shock. Michelle and Hallie just high-fived each other. The Green Onion just landed the mother load of buttons to push.

Two of my Bro Onions are getting married this summer. They are both marrying beautiful women I love and adore and I am excited for them. I am in the house party in one wedding, and I have agreed to wear Victorian lilac for Hallie and probably pantyhose, too, in the other.

God only knows what else will happen to me between now and then.

The other day this thought occurred to me: I keep saying, “that/they/it will be the death of me,” but if I’m honest with myself, I think that part of me needs to die.

Believe me, that phrase applies to many other areas of my life, but honestly, the moment that thought was birthed in my brain, I was pondering purses, hats and Victorian lilac.

I’ve held onto, quite stubbornly, my devotion to not being a girly girl since I was about eight years old. This journey to even the slightest attention to femininity has been a long one, and yes, I do realize there is so much more about femininity than pink lace, ruffles, purses and the right makeup.

For me, this means I have to let go of what scares me about being feminine (that’s a long story) and just let this lesson unfold as it will. I am up to my neck in all this girl stuff that‘s not just about girl stuff. I decided, after agreeing to wear Victorian lilac, that it is no mistake I have three weddings in six weeks and that my involvement gets deeper as the summer progresses. God is taking me on a journey and instead of fighting it, I just need to lift my feet and let the current take me wherever God wants me to end up.

I was born a girl. I’m still not sure what it means to be one. Not completely. I’ve had to be the “man” in my life for a long, long time. I don’t mean to sound stereotypical, but I’ve studied the male/female roles for a long time and I’ve had to be both.

I take care of myself. When it all boils down the nuts and bolts, it’s just me that has to deal with everything that adulthood brings my way. I fix the holes in my wall. I take out my own trash. When I had a lawn, I was the one that mowed it. I’ve changed my own flat tires, and I know more about cars than most women. When push comes to shove, I am my own shield from harm. When the bills get paid, it’s the money I’ve earned to provide for myself that pays them. I am solely responsible for the outcome of my life.

My point is, I have had to wear many hats in this life as a single woman that I wouldn’t have to wear if I was married or in a relationship. It’s that simple and that complicated.

Some women like not giving men the privilege of loving them by being male and allowing them to be fully feminine. Personally, I am tired of wearing that hat. It’s Real Man repellent. I watch young women spray on Real Man repellent every day and I’m wondering if I can get its stench out of my clothes before it’s too late.

If I‘m honest, quite frankly I wish I had a real man in my daily life, for many reasons, but for the one I‘m addressing here, to relax into my femininity. I just don’t know how to relax into being fully a woman without having a man in my life to… be the man.

I know I’m not explaining this well, but that’s where I am as 2010 begins. I am wrestling with having to be the strong one and take care of me while exploring what it truly means to be a woman in that circumstance.

Albert Einstein said, “I must be willing to give up what I am in order to become what I will be.” I know this means I have to lay down what scares me about being feminine and embrace all that life has intended for me as a woman. Don’t be surprised, though, if at first it’s with all the grace and awkwardness of an eight year old, because I’m picking up where I left off.

Posted in Bro Onions, Yahweh's fingerprints

PEELING BRO ONIONS (and The Shallot)

Posted on by sassysheisme

In the beginning of the year that just closed, a particular group of friends has stepped up, surrounded me, loved on me and accepted me in both the most subtle ways and in a relentless full on assault. As much as they are a part of my life, I am a part of theirs and though that still feels strange to me sometimes, it does feel right.

My life is completely funny in the way people happen to me. If you’d told me, even sixteen months ago that the majority of my peer group would actually be several years younger than me, I would have laughed…quite heartily. If you had told me, at that same time that many of my “peeps” would be men, I’d have told you that you were crazy. Plumb loco and oh so wrong.

In 2009, I had a garden to tend and it started with onions, Bro Onions, as I like to call them. They are my little brothers and they each teach me something different both about men in general and about myself.

The first to be named an Onion was the Transparent Onion. This one, in fact, is the youngest one of the bunch, yet he often spouts the wisdom of a sage and prophet. He taught me one important phrase I will never forget, “I’m just gonna give love a chance!” He did, and he’s marrying a beautiful woman in June.

The Transparent Onion got his moniker the night he was telling me all about his philosophy on giving love a chance and the object of his affection. He looked at me at one point in exasperation and said, “You don’t understand! I’m an onion! I have layers!”

“Oh, but I see right through your layers,” I remember telling him. “You are a transparent onion,” and bless him, that stuck on him like the smell of onions on your hands after you chop one up with tears running down your cheeks.

The Transparent Onion has shown me the value of giving love a chance, and the reward of risking great heartbreak. He jumped off the cliff of love and he hasn’t landed yet.

Then I named the Opaque Onion. Oh yes, this one is layered more than the Transparent Onion and his layers are by far more difficult to see through, but one of his secrets is out – he’s good at pretty much everything he does. Though he says, “I haven’t done that since the third grade,” he can bowl/pitch/throw/bat/sing/make music and toss a mean Frisbee, and is one of the most naturally graceful and agile people I’ve ever met.

The Opaque Onion keeps things so close to the vest that he appears to be an ocean of calm when the insides of him are in a blender. He doesn’t think I see that though, and I’ll let him think I don’t. Still, he truly has been an ocean of calm to me, especially when I am wound up and ready to spin out of control. All I have to do is look into those eyes that are the color of the peace and I am calm. In November, the Opaque Onion moved to Austin to pursue a dream and he has inspired me to pursue dreams of my own.

I miss his face.

The Green Onion is so named because he will never grow up, and I do not mean that in the derogatory way. This man is not a child, but he likes to laugh and have fun enjoy himself and if he ever stops doing that, I will revoke his Bro Onion membership.

I had known the Green Onion for maybe a week or two when he came to my birthday party last year. All of my small group had been invited and he had just joined. He hardly knew me, but he wanted to make friends, so he came. One of the things I admire about him is that he puts himself out there win or lose. He has a big heart and a lot of wisdom when it really counts that I value more than he knows. I can ask him anything and believe me, he will tell me, point blank, no filter.

He makes me laugh so hard sometimes my stomach hurts. He makes me laugh through my tears, even when I want to punch him and tell him to just let me cry. He’ll let me cry, but he won’t let me wallow there. He knows things about me I don’t want him to know because he reads people well. This bothers me to perturbation, because being known means being vulnerable. I fight this even though I know it’s a battle I can’t win with this one. Resistance is futile, but I’m going down swinging. This seems to amuse him.

The Green Onion’s favorite activity as it pertains to me is button pushing. He enjoys pushing and pushing (and pushing, and pushing) my buttons, and he can handle the consequences. He always calls or texts at the right time (but I never tell him that), and while he may believe his timing is off, it isn’t in everything.

Green is the color of balance, change, and growth. This Onion has perfected the art of living the same balanced and off-balanced space and in turn, he keeps me both balanced and off-balance. He pushes me to change and grow by bringing me to the point of exasperation and speechlessness. Then I have to sit down and figure out how I got to that point (good or bad) and it’s usually during that reflection I really see myself. He can get me to do things most people give up trying to get me to do because he makes me forget (temporarily) that I’m 40 and uncoordinated or unprepared or scared or naïve, and that even if I think some of life has passed me by, it’s never too late to reach back and make time my biotch.

The fourth Onion, the Sweet Onion, is marrying one of my close friends in July. He is the Sweet one because he is one of the gentlest people I’ve ever met. He waited a long time for the right woman to come along, proving that prayer and patience is a more difficult route sometimes, but the rewards are worth the wait.

His favorite activities include loving my friend Hallie, and I’m pretty sure this isn’t as important, but he enjoys pushing my buttons (I blame the Green Onion for showing him this) and pitting me against the Green Onion to see more button pushing and me fighting back with no filter.

Some time after the Bro Onions had been established, then came The Shallot. The Shallot is married with one of the cutest, most easy-going babies and the world’s most patient, understanding wife. I’ve seen some of The Shallot’s craziness in action and Mrs. Shallot rolls her eyes and moves the baby out of the way and lets life unfold…at a safe distance. I pay attention to what she does more than she thinks.

The Shallot is the Green Onion ten years down the road. They complete each other. They have a specific Man Call (if I call it the mating call again, they will kill me) and they share the same brain, mercifully spending Saturdays together watching football so the brain can rest in one spot. The Shallot is teaching the Green Onion many valuable skills in the Mitchen (Man Kitchen/grill), as well as gardening/lawn maintenance. He has even managed to teach the Green Onion enough to trust him as a babysitter.

I spent Christmas Day with The Shallot and his family, which means more to me than I can put into words. I know if I ever needed something and didn’t tell him and he found out about it, he’d be very upset with me. That’s actually a comfort.

So I have four Bro Onions and one Shallot. To think that at this time last year, that I only knew one of them blows my mind!

Posted in about shae, lists, music, photography, video, Yahweh's fingerprints

DISCOVERIES (2009)

Posted on by sassysheisme

Yeah, yeah, so the fever of list making has finally hit me. 

DISCOVERIES IN MUSIC

Owl City

Lady Antebellum

Jack’s Mannequin

Seabird

Barcelona

Interestingly enough, I owe most of those discoveries to Joe Ben, who is always ahead of me in discovering great music.  Thank goodness he’s the type of guy who shares.

Song that brought me to my knees: “How He Loves” by the David Crowder Band.
And I can’t let this post go by without mentioning Steve, the computerized drum kit made by Bwack, and one of the songs off the David Crowder Band’s Church Music CD called, “God Almighty None Compares.”  You can see Steve in the upper center of this video and you will enjoy some of the best guitarmony I’ve heard in a long, long time!

DISCOVERIES IN BOOKS

The Dune series by Frank Herbert

The Shack by William P Young (led to an incredible moment in my life)

“Leaf by Niggle,” from Tales of the Perilous Realm by JRR Tolkein

Tales of Beedle the Bard, by JK Rowling (these really are great kids’ stories)

DISCOVERIES IN MOVIES

Sam Worthington (Terminator Salvation, Avatar)

JJ Abrams rebooted Star Trek and I LOVE it!

Boondock Saints I & II (thanks, Green Onion)

Video that made me laugh out loud:  David Crowder Band – Twitter Will Kill You

DISCOVERIES IN TV

I really miss Chuck.

24  Just started watching this year, thanks to Joe Ben… and Season 7 is all I’ve seen.

A show I loved, Battlestar Galactica, aired it’s last episode (though spinoffs abound) this spring.

Another show I loved that was well acted and written, Kings, did not make it to season 2.

DISCOVERIES ABOUT HOUSTON

It really can snow in Houston and it can snow two years in a row.

You can be completely covered (with just your face showing) in near freezing temperatures, and mosquitos will still attack you.

DISCOVERIES ABOUT MYSELF

I do like wearing hats that do not have team logos/company brands on the front. 

I love taking pictures and I hope to continue to learn and to take my photography to the next level.

I enjoy being female (hence another hat and purse purchase earlier today. I still blame Mish).

Heartbreak is a painful experience, but it isn’t fatal or final… and I’d rather hurt than feel nothing at all.

Hope is still a tattoo-worthy word.

Courage is a lot scarier than one might think but worth every drop (weather that be blood, sweat or tears) it requires of me.

Going with the flow is a lot less exhausting than fighting change.

I am stronger than I think I am.

I have a long way to go, but I am slowly but surely moving forward.

Posted in vacation, Yahweh's fingerprints

IN A WORD?

Posted on by sassysheisme

Many people are not just assessing this past year, they are pondering the ending of the first decade of this century.  While I can see the value of re-evaluating and seeing how far we’ve come as a people or even on a personal level, I can’t seem to get myself into the mood to look backward, or even into my rearview mirror.

All I can seem to do right now is look forward.

I’ve been off work since Christmas Eve, which has been wonderful.  It’s been over two years since have had this much time off and nearly a year since I’ve been off for more than a long weekend.  It’s taken until yesterday to truly feel myself relax.  I went to a movie (Avatar in 3D) and then I drove around to a couple of stores and looked at furniture (which I’ve had very little time or energy to do).

I’ve been sitting on the floor or in a camp chair since I moved last April.  I decided that I would never buy furniture if I didn’t let go of the old, broken, uncomfortable items first.  I never dreamed it would be eight months later that I would have an actual chair to sit in, but here I am, in this beautiful, comfortable chair.

Granted, my tastes are not necessarily wholesale, discount, but my checkbook right now is.  I went first to Danish Impressions to let myself dream of what one day my living room will look like, then I drove to TABS and walked the whole store before I found this leather recliner.  It was already discounted, on sale, and they took an additional 20% off.  I couldn’t believe the price (about $200 less than I had budgeted for) and the salesman delivered it himself when he got off work so I wouldn’t have to pay a hefty delivery charge (TABS is less than a mile from my place).

I was feeling pretty good about the whole deal when I went to talk to E & C in my apartment complex’s management office.  I asked about how much my rent would go up (I got in here on a very generous deal last spring) and E said that they had decided all rents would stay the same (and would even for my very generous deal). 

I started crying and if you know me, I have always been uncomfortable with my tears.  Usually, if I’m crying, I’m angry, and most often with myself.  Then I grabbed E and hugged her (twice).  I had been contemplating moving again if the rent went up too high and now, through even more generosity from strangers, I can stay in this apartment that I really, really like…and I can do so without sitting on the floor.

After my chair was delivered, I sat in it and cried some more, completely overwhelmed by God’s provision, and grateful beyond words.  I have been mocked, belittled and teased for my decision to get rid of my old furniture and not run out and buy new items (with money I don’t have) by people who either have more cash than they can spend, or who choose to live shackled by debt (and I have tried that route and it is not a good way to live!).  One even said they wouldn’t come over and visit me until I had furniture.  These people do not understand how far I’ve come in how I respect money, and/or they don’t comprehend the concept of waiting on God for anything, and I have a feeling my chair will not be good enough for them because there is only one.  That’s ok.  They can kiss my… floor pillows.

To the people who came over and enjoyed my company and hospitality while sitting on cushions on the floor, you can take turns sitting in this comfy chair.  I know you rejoice with me and my blessings, because you loved me before, when I had very little, and you will remind me if I forget how blessed I am.  To you, I am so very grateful for you friendship and support.

A friend reminded me recently that I have to let go of what I was to be anything else in the future and she’s right.   I remember what I let go of to have what I have now, and as I nearly fell asleep in this chair last night, I thought of all the things I want to do and hope to be and began to visualize what I must let go of in order to become what I know I can be.

I don’t make resolutions, but this I know, change is coming, and I will not fight it if I can help it.  I’m up to my neck in water borne outside of my comfort zone and I need to just lift my legs and go with the flow and see where I go.