Tell-tale sign of corruption

UPDATE: The video below has been removed from Vimeo with the following statement:

Sorry, "Pastor James Merritt Tells his FHTM Story" was deleted at 12:24:17 Mon Aug 1, 2011. Vimeo has removed or disabled access to the following material as a result of a third-party notification by Dr. James Merritt claiming that this material is infringing: Pastor James Merritt Tells his FHTM Story. We have no more information about it on our mainframe or elsewhere.

Hopefully this means is that Dr. Merritt is hearing the concerns about his involvement with FHTMC, whether he agrees with them or not. Even if he simply takes a much less public approach with his involvement ... well, I guess that's something due to his massive influence on one of the largest Protestant denominations in our nation.

A few more resources on Merritt's involvement, in case you missed the video before it was deleted:

Surprised By a Hero of Mine
I Thought I Had Seen It All
Weekend 7: Money, Money, Money



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I was going to give some commentary on this video, but I think I just have to share it and allow everyone time to process and discuss.

This is a prominent mega-church pastor, promoting a multi-level marketing business. What you are seeing is not a part of a sermon, but an informational meeting held at his church.

Pastor James Merritt Tells his FHTM Story from Leverage LLC on Vimeo.

If I ever stop beating my head against the wall, perhaps I can join the discussion.

It's about passion

"Human communities depend upon a diversity of talent, not a singular conception of ability."

Who says that's breakfast, anyway?

Not everyone is gifted at naturally thinking outside the box. So, I encourage people to practice. Really - practice thinking out of the box.

Start with breakfast. What seems perfectly acceptable as a breakfast food? Make a mental list. Got it? In breakfast mode?

Now, what seems completely jacked up and WRONG for breakfast. Not necessarily because it's wrong, or bad for you, but because we are told what breakfast is or isn't ... and that food doesn't fit the norm. Make another mental list: "not breakfast foods."

Then write it down.

Then take it to the store.

Then buy the ingredients.

Then EAT THOSE THINGS FOR BREAKFAST. Heck, do it every day for a week.

Just do it. Feel it. Absorb it. Dance around with it for awhile.

People have "breakfast for dinner" all the time. For some reason, though, breakfast has become much more sacred. We have a harder time jacking with it. You will find that there are reasons you prefer traditional breakfast foods. Explain it to yourself. Is it about stomach sensitivity that early in the morning? A bigger carb boost? Convenience and speed?

It's such a simple idea, but then can translate into so many other areas of your life. You may find that there are cultural norms you adhere to, and the reasoning is solid and sound (even if you never stopped to reason it through before). You may also discover that you have been missing out on something unique and different, which then brings a breath of fresh air to your life just by mixing things up.

Through all of it - you have thought outside the box. You have been creative. You have been a little brave. You have grown.

And it all started with breakfast.

Truth

I had tears multiple times today.

I found myself overwhelmed with people I have in my life right now ... people I can actually see and touch and talk to and have coffee with and swim with and who share their kimchi freely.

The conversation continues to happen. Some of these people in my life blow me away. They see the labels and the judgement that some have, but they also openly stop and say, "But I'm being judgmental, because that person is only reacting based on where they are and what they know and their life experiences." The words coming out vary from person to person, but the undercurrent is the same ... over and over and over again ... for days now.

My brain continues to explode as I have several people, in face-to-face conversation, owning this. Recognizing their own need for patience, instead of knee-jerk reactions.

Amazingly, this little mass of conversations are with pockets of individuals whose paths do not cross. Their only connection is me. Yet, they are all speaking the same truth. They are all reinforcing in me this need to be open and kind, even when others aren't open and kind. Each person has talked about their own attacks and their own defensiveness. Some are inconvenient. Some are life-shattering and deeply painful. Yet the same authenticity came from each voice.

And I am listening.

Blown away to have such wisdom in flesh in my presence ... all around me ... in so many different venues. It also sucks, because when I want to be pouty and pissy, they're going to remind me not to get stuck there, and be patient with the process of another. Since the same message is coming at me from so many directions, I can't just ignore it. *stupid wise friends, holding me accountable to truth - grumble, grumble*

Still. Crazy beautiful.

Not accidental.

Deep thoughts, by FaceBook

It was an interesting status morning on the FaceCrack:

"Don't miss out on an opportunity just because it's not packaged the way you expect." - Vickie Rice (quoting someone else)

"Life is not a dress rehearsal. Stop practicing what you're going to do and just go do it." ~ Marilyn Grey

"What do we really mean when we look into someone's eyes and acknowledge that we "see them?" I guess it depends upon where we stand." - Jeffrey Sumber

"Some lessons have to be learned the old fashioned way. Like you can't lay in bed and eat a bowl of cereal." - Jack Moers (my brother-in-law)

"Being different isn't the same as making a difference." - My Mom (quoting someone else)

"Love each other deeper and all of a sudden the earth gets easier, lovelier, and we spend more time loving each other and being kind than destroying Planet Earth." - Justin Blackburn

"Sometimes the quickest way to feeling better is to just be REALLY messy for a while." - that one came from me, quoting one of my crazy-smart friends, Mighty Isis.

"Don't stop til you get enough." - a last minute submission via my favorite Tiffani

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

Some airlines still serve an in-flight meal!


(photo by My House Smells Like Vanilla, used with permission)





**send your magical milk pics to christinemoers at hotmail dot com**

You have to actually walk in their shoes

People are complicated.

Getting to truly know a person means so much more than I ever imagined. All I have learned in helping my children to peel back their many layers of pain and loss has forced me to view all relationships in the same light.

I would agree that you have to walk a mile in someone's shoes before you can actually comprehend and understand their truth ... their story ... their reality. Yet, those were words.

I now admit I spent most of my life not actually walking in the shoes of others. I looked at their shoes. I commented on their shoes. I saw the dirt and tears on the soles and I made assumptions as to how they got there. I always had an answer for how they could spruce those shoes up. I had read books and gone to conferences and sat through teachings on the cookie cutter models of (fill-in-the-blank-for-life's-problems).

But to KNOW a person took time that I had never taken. Really. I couldn't know them if they didn't trust me first. They didn't trust me if I wasn't a safe place for them. I wouldn't put in the time and energy to be a safe place for them if I didn't care and commit to that relationship, by first meeting them where they are.

Over the last several years, as I have slowly put on the shoes of others and walked their truth in a proverbial way, my life has forever changed. I have come to know one thing for sure:

I know nothing.

We are surrounded by insecurities and pain and guilt and courage and fear and unbelievable heartache. We all work through these things at our own pace, and when we dare to think some are not moving fast enough ... and when we take the time to know them ... when we put on their shoes and walk in them for a long time ... get blisters from the walking ... we come back to that one thing we know for sure:

We know nothing.

People are complicated.

Most of the time we don't know the whole story. To care enough to hear it means plugging in for a very, very long time. Sometimes we will never hear it all, because people are constantly coming to terms with it themselves.

In the meantime, we should just keep listening and hearing, knowing that in many cases we can never fully comprehend their journey.

4th Annual Learn Nothing Day

If you have never heard of "Learn Nothing Day," then I've already blown it for you. Because you just learned something.

So, start over. Right now. Clear your mind. Learn nothing for the whole day. I double-dog-friggin-dare you.

Let me know how it goes.

I say yes

Love Steinberg. Self awareness, introspection and evaluation are the focus of my day today. A lot of big words for "We all fight faulty thinking and it can suck the life right out of us when we are tired, hungry, stressed, fill-in-the-blank."

My favorite passages:

I say yes to the goodness.
I say yes to love.
I say yes to abundance raining down from up above.

No to the darkness.
No to the fear.
No to the voices that scream about despair.

I say yes to acceptance.
I say yes to faith.
I say yes to the lessons.
I'm learning how to grow through all the pain.

No to depression.
No to the rant.
No to the voices that tell me that I can't.

I say yes.

Now pardon me while I repeat, repeat, repeat.

Yes, there was a meltdown

We all knew there would be some residual effects from last week's fun-for-everyone. Sure enough, there was a pretty big meltdown in the car today.

The culprit is a lovely gal. She was showing signs of fatigue yesterday. Everyone could tell her tone was getting snappy and sassy. She did not sleep well last night, which just added to the existing crankiness. Today, as we all arrived at the library, the pudding hit the fan.

She. melted. down.

She cried. She went on a five minute rant about how no one appreciates her. She bemoaned how tired and sick she feels and yet still had to come to the stupid library for everyone else.

She cried some more.

She ranted some more.

And then she put the car into "park" and told everyone to go inside before they missed the ventriloquist show. ;)

*sigh*

Guess I better start thinking through how I'm going to make repairs for my behavior.

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

(photo by David, used with permission)




**send your magical milk pics to christinemoers at hotmail dot com**

A whole lotta' wonderful

One couple.

Four mile fun run



Tiny car



Giant martini



Some history



Ocean



Brunch



Fort



Latte booty call



Open air market



Fambly nuptials



A giant chair



On my way home soon. It was all perfect and lovely.

Experiencing Norlando

There are several trauma moms who have been to the Orlando retreat and live in the New Hampshire area. They get together once a month. They call it "Norlando," and I got to crash this month!



It was a treat to have bloggy and non-bloggy friends alike. Love these ladies.

Some of them you may already know:

Crawford Life and Times
The Other Mother
Watching the Waters
That's What She Said
Mama Drama - Times Two

Corey was her amazing self, as always. Drove out of her way to pick me up. Brought me food. All I had to do was just exist. My husband picked me up once his conference was over. It was so much fun to introduce him to some of the people I talk about all the time.

Huge thanks to the Norlando ladies! They are a perfect example of finding a way to build a local support network. Some of them drive as far as 2.5 hours one way (with foster babies in tow). They make the effort - make it work. It's beautiful.

Ink complete

Four sessions. Sixteen hours. She is finally done.

A woman who represents all of the mothers in the lives of my children ... all of the women who love them, regardless of their ability to parent. Jewelry and some of the animals come from Haitian and African inspirations. The animals represent life, birth and nurturing.

I love her and all she means to not just me, but my children.

Eat lightening and crap thunder

Today I enjoy an opportunity that is extremely rare in my home. I am boarding a plane where I will meet up with my husband. We will enjoy one, two, three, four, FIVE NIGHTS TOGETHER WITHOUT ANY CHILDREN.

When we discovered he had two weeks of conferences in New Hampshire, with a free weekend in between, the looks began shooting between us. When I realized I could get a VERY cheap flight just by adjusting my arrival and departure days, my heart started to beat out of my chest. When my parents agreed to watch our five children for those five nights ... well, I either screamed or passed out. I can't quite remember which.

Saying all of that to say that prepping for this trip has been no party. Getting all the bugs worked out at the park to make sure it runs smoothly was glitchy. Helping my mom be prepared to feed our tiny army for that long took a little extra planning. Assisting my kids as they juggle spending that much time in a familiar (but still not "routine") bed as well as being separated from their parents for the longest stretch yet ... well, we did it.

After all these years, I'm insanely proactive. We talked through scenarios. We didn't wait for big feelings, we just talked about all the possibilities. The kids did some role playing before we even left the house. Last night my mom was awesome blossom and did a "test run" time out with all of them, just so they would know what would happen if someone needed to take a breather while she's in charge.

My kids have a lot of concerns, so I have tried (not always patiently) to answer every single, solitary question they have about their schedules and what they'll eat and ... you name it.

It has been rocky, but better than previous trips. When I get back, we will schedule MAJOR down time, and give plenty of space for meltdowns as needed (we had one last week, so I'm reminded that sometimes there is a little bit more of a delay). I'm reminding them that they may need and WANT that. They are doing DANG HARD WORK, and allowing themselves to have TONS of fun with their grandparents. It's both wonderful and exhausting at times, for their hearts and minds. So, I just say, "Do both! Have fun. Freak out a bit later. Whatever. Just don't miss out on the fun!!"

I say the same thing on my end, "Do both! Let Mom and Dad have fun and keep making their marriage rockin' awesome. Freak out a bit later. Whatever. Just don't think Mom and Dad are going to miss out on the making our marriage rockin' awesome."

I expect fall-out, but I have gotten much better about NOT thinking about it while I'm enjoying the good, wonderful thing. If it's gonna' happen anyway, why start stressing about it early? Have fun. Do the wonderful thing. Help your kids through the meltdowns later. Do both. Don't let one dictate the other. Cause your Hottie McHot-Hot is worth it. You all are.

Nostalgia

Today I am at my parents' home. It's always interesting to be surrounded by so many memories of childhood while with my children who are making their own memories of childhood.

Say that three times fast.

My kids are going to enjoy a week with their Mamaw and Papaw while I hook up with my husband at a conference. Until I climb onto an airplane ... er ... into an airplane, I'm going to enjoy the nostalgia all around me. I eat this stuff up.



Baby pics (and um, yes, the shirt says "I'm a little stinker").





Little detail on an old dresser. Yet, when I see it, I remember the hours and hours of running my fingers or toes along the curves as I chatted with some boy on my lavender telephone. I'm sure if someone ever wants to revarnish this thing, it will first require the removal of approximately 321 layers of Stiff Stuff hairspray.





My dad hand tools leather. This piece was made when I was a year old. It's the Last Supper. I never remember a day, growing up, when it was not hanging in one of our living rooms.





Most entertaining find was this stuffed animal. A gift from an ex boyfriend. It survived a good twenty years through all the moves my parents have made. Still holding on for dear life in the bins of toys that are now reserved for visits from the grandkids.





My grandmother's bread box.




Makes me wonder what my kids will be taking pictures of in a few decades.

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

(photo by C. Lynne, used with permission)



**send your magical milk pics to christinemoers at hotmail dot com**

For the hoop challenged

This is the best yet. How to hula hoop. Love this!



Don't ignore the extra's in here. Diameter needs to be at least to your belly button. Heavier hoops are easier.

Da-da-da da-da-da dee-da-da ...

Hurting to connect

*emphasis is mine*

"... they are hurt children, not bad children. They are doing the best they can to express themselves, even though that best is crappy for us.

There is one other valuable insight I would dare ask you to consider: our kids are hurting us as their own special way of connecting with us. Really."

This is from "Feel as Bad as Me, or, the Meaning of Fury in Adopted Children"

I double dog dare you to read this article. Truly hear it. Absorb it. Be as brave and open minded as we ask our children to be. It's also okay to hate it simultaneously. Truth can sometimes suck.

What the frack?

Coffee ... it's not you, it's me

I have made a very difficult decision over the past two months.

I'm drinking less coffee.

I know, I know. That is my "thing." My one really big vice I have not just held to, but embraced ... and made out with.

I love coffee.

I love it so much I should marry it. In fact, some might say I have had a more intimate relationship with coffee than I do my husband. It's creepy, cause it's true.

When I pee, the bathroom smells like a fresh mug of french press.

I love coffee.

Yet, I have had to accept some things about my coffee consumption that were having a negative impact on me. I have not given up my java, but it is now in the category of "treat" instead of "food group."

I always go through bouts where it irritates my stomach. That's usually when I do more half-caff or total decaf, if necessary. It wasn't unusual for me to always have a mug in my hand, all day long. Middle of summer? No biggie. Drink it hot all morning and then whir it through the VitaMix in the afternoon and enjoy it iced. I would reheat every last drop. Rarely did any ever see the pipes of my sink.

I love coffee.

Two of the biggest areas, though, where I have had to face reality are:

- how it makes me feel, and

- how it affects my health

It can make my anxiety worse. On most days, that was no biggie. However, when I can be a large gift to my kids by how I react and stay regulated ... why would I continue to make that mountain larger to climb each day? Too much coffee made that harder. I still did my best to work my tail off, but I was doing the opposite of what I know to be wise - making it easier to succeed instead of easier to fail.

Once I was finally able to run a 10k, I could no longer ignore what was going on with my body. A cup of coffee carried me through the day and curbed my hunger, whether I wanted it to or not. This was not in a good way. It kept me from being fully aware of when I needed to refuel. It took the place of nutrient-dense foods. I became weaker, the more I continued running. Before, this wasn't as big of a deal (although, certainly not healthy). However, I finally hit a tipping point, and it was harming me. Even decaf filled my stomach when I really should have been sucking down a green smoothie or chomping through some veggies.

And so, I sat down with my coffee. We had a long talk. We have decided to see other people for awhile, with the strict understanding that there will be a rock solid booty call at least every week or two.

On being selfish

I have learned, and continue to fine-tune, the art of being selfish, when needed.

I run away as regularly as I can. The husband and I get time together, and that's important. In fact, it's a priority for us. We are good at working on "us" and communicating and improving for the sake of who we are together.

Yet, it's also vital that I get time just to myself. To do things I want. To see people I want to see. To take care of me, and explore me and better understand me. The commonality mothers have is our ability to lose our individuality while still doing what is important: choosing to be sacrificial and giving for the sake of our entire home.

Some say you can't have both. That's ridiculous. It's a balance, and you have to place importance on not tipping the scales too often. But impossible? W.h.a.t.e.v.s!

It took me years to work through the Mommy Guilt and the Wife Guilt. With that comes the Family Budget Guilt. The Time Guilt. You name it.

I stared the Guilts in the face and found the truth. I found the balance. I continue to make it work because it is worth it. Most of the time it takes a lot of coordination, creativity and stealth maneuvering. But dang it, if I don't figure out a way now that I am so determined.

I'm happy to be teaching my kids such a valuable lesson, and living out how to make that possible ... and good:

I am important. My passions, my interests, my thoughts, my creativity, my doubts, my answers, my desires, my growth, my fun.

Important.

Vital.

Not more important. Not more vital.

But certainly not less.

Prison

The title is actually not figurative, but literal.

Saturday I drove to visit an old friend who is serving his second sentence in prison. It's a long story (isn't it always?). I have kept up with him off and on, but the last time we saw one another was at his wedding nine years ago.

The facility he is in now was within about a two hour drive, so it was the first time I have been able to actually see him during any of his incarcerations. It was ... interesting. The entire experience. It was actually a million different things, and I cried a lot on the way home. I cannot begin to explain the number of children I saw visiting their fathers. Painful to see, and yet unbelievably vital for those kids. So many children. One moment gave me access to see a dad trying to compose himself while his girls and their mother ran over to buy snacks out of the vending machine. Regardless of the "why," I was privy to this intimate grief ... regret ... pain. I imagine I was surrounded by many who wish they could get a big, fat do-over.

There were so many other things I experienced, saw and heard that I won't go into. My mind was racing and it felt like an out-of-body experience, taking it all in. Wondering about the histories. Knowing it was a building full of trauma and pain and issues that snowballed. Thinking of the experiences of some of my kids and how hard we are all working to help them heal. I know my friend's history, and it was complicated and horrific. Everyone who tried to help him did the very best they could with what they knew at the time.

My friend made choices to be there. Hands down. He has to own that. I hurt for him. He has so very little hope. It's not a rehabilitative place. Not even close. Prison does zero to heal a person. It hurts them more deeply, multiplies their shame and then ... well, then we release them. I honestly have no clue as to a solution or where the balance should be. A giant, complicated mess.

Yet, in all of the weirdness, I had a really fun time chatting it up with some of the employees (who snagged my blog address after we talked all things diet - hi!). These were people who simply want to do their job, but it's a job full of negativity and despair. My assumption is that it's difficult to be delightful, yet some of them were. They were kind and helpful. Tolerant of my stupidity ... "When I said, 'Step over the board on the metal detector, I actually meant don't step ON it.'" heh. heh.

Yeah, I was a little nervous about seeing my friend. Not thinking straight. Circling in that moment of, "What exactly is the proper etiquette here? The first words out of your mouth the first time you visit an old friend ... in prison?!? 'So, you look good. How's the food?'" Emily Post never covered that in her etiquette guides.

Before leaving, I made a point to tell one amazing guard what a gift they were. Truly. An amazing spirit. When inside, talking with my friend, I said, "Everyone was very kind on the way in here," he acted shocked. When I stopped this person on the way out to tell them about the light and love and hope I saw in them, they also seemed a little shocked ... and said, "If you asked your friend in there, they would probably disagree." I'm sure. It's a place set up for misery and disconnection and anger and triggers.

There were a few times I forgot where I was. It felt like we were sitting in a coffee shop, catching up. Well, you know ... those coffee shops with the plexiglass dividers, telephones, armed barista's, and insanely uncomfortable metal stools. We reminisced and laughed together. Then we talked about the future and the unknowns and shared in utter sadness together. We even fought a little bit - disagreed on some things.

Another guard let us know that our two hours were up. That was that. I got back into my car, where I had to leave everything except my keys, my ID and a clear baggie with change for vending machines.

I'm still working through it all in my mind. It was a lot to take in. A million emotions. Very few solutions.




(photo by David Ritter, used with permission)

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

(photo by David, used with permission)



**send your magical milk pics to christinemoers at hotmail dot com**

Land of the ... everything

Thanks to Heather for bringing this to my ears and eyeballs. Love.

Toxic ruptures

"When parents have leftover or unresolved issues, they are especially at risk for entering into toxic ruptures with their children. Parents can become lost in the depths of a low-road state, and even if they recognize the toxic rupture, they will be unlikely to be able to repair it until they have centered themselves. The centering often requires that parent disconnect themselves from the interaction with their child."

"If parents stay on the low road and continue to try to interact, they will be emotionally reactive and their leftover issues will cloud their ability to parent effectively." - Parenting From the Inside Out (affiliate link)

I'm just now working my way through this book. Please note - it is not written for parents of trauma. It is written for all parents. It is a bit of a thick read in some areas, but also gives you personal assignments at the end of each chapter. Good stuff. Loving stuff. For instance, "As you let these internal processes float into consciousness, empathize with them without judging or trying to fix yourself."

Every child deserves an emotionally healthy parent - sure.

Yet, on a more basic level, YOU deserve to be emotionally healthy.