I am proudly introverted.  In a small, safe group I might be funny or engaging but in a large arena I will willingly fade into the background.  I am a wallflower.  I would much rather observe quietly from the wings than be the center of the party.  I am wired differently than a charismatic, outspoken leader.  I look on the world through a lacy romanticism and dwell in an introspective poetic protection that slows me down and has me dwelling on the texture of hope rather than some public fame that would have me dressed up in quick wit and leather pants.

I do believe you can teach an old dog new tricks.  I don't believe you can turn a Cocker Spaniel into a Border Collie.

The last few weeks have been a time of deep reflection for me.  Of self-searching and rediscovery and making choices that, though painful in the moment, have freed me to be exactly who I was made to be.  

For years, I have been heavily involved in the worship ministry of our church - happily involved because I love music and have a heart for it - but never quite fully delivering because I could not be the leader I was asked to be.  It wasn't in me to speak an anointed Word over the congregation or to charismatically lead 300 people to some emotionally heightened precipice where they might meet God.  I led worship like I lead my life - quietly - independently - responsible only for my own personal experience.  If others followed along behind my quiet leadership and met Jesus in a moment of lyric or chord progression - wonderful!  If not, you wouldn't find me raising my hands from the platform in some plastic call to 'lay aside the burdens of your week and come into the holy presence of God' because that is not the person I was made to be.

And that's okay.

Finally realizing and accepting this has allowed me to breathe again.  It has shown me that for years I have been holding my breath and existing on this plain that has had me anxious and pretending and that is no place to be.

I need to be free to be me.

I had a lot of fear as I drafted my resignation letter.  Fear for the future of the ministry.  Fear that I was letting people down.  Fear that I was letting myself down.  But as I finished and read it back to myself I felt an incredible peace and knew - without a doubt - that I was making the right decision. 

It's hard to admit defeat.  Because defeat feels like failure and failure feels like ending.  But, in stepping out of your own way, you might just find yourself reintroduced to the self you left behind in your arrogant pursuit of the impossible.

And that's a freedom unlike anything else.

And it's very much like coming home.

Forcing myself into a position that wasn't suited to my personality was destructive - not in an obvious way but in a slow corrosive manner that eroded my spirit - I lost sleep, my love for music was replaced by a need to please which ultimately affected my song choices and creative liberties, I was not myself.  There were pieces that made me happy - those beautiful moments with my band-mates when we'd arrive at the perfect arrangement that seemed to open up the heavens - but those were always outweighed by the pressure of charisma and {for lack of a better term} 'star power'.

When you get out of your own way, it's amazing how many people and things might speak into the exact situation you're wrestling through.  As I pondered this particular choice a co-worker, knowing nothing of what I was working through in my head and heart, caught me by the lunchroom door and put her hand on my shoulder.  "Be true to who you are," she said.  "I just needed to tell you that for some reason."  I had just gone to refill my mug with water but in that moment, she spoke into my life in a way she'll probably never truly understand. I am a people-pleaser at heart.  I hate to let anyone down.  Had I not taken the time to listen to the nudging of those {not so} still, small voices, perhaps I would still be in a position which - for me - was really a lie.

We are all made with a purpose, with different gifts and abilities.  How boring life would be if everyone was good at everything.  I may not hold the position of Worship Leader anymore but you can be very sure that I'll still be up on that platform come Sunday morning, playing my guitar or letting my fingers dance along the piano because that is where my heart is at and that is what brings me great joy.  I don't feel anointed with spoken words, I feel anointed with a gift of music and a heart for worship.

Holding on to something that isn't feeding your truth means you're holding back something that will.  By letting go of the thing that is hindering your own contentment the door is swung wide open to new possibilities - to joys and peace and good old fashioned happiness.  Letting go is hard.  Fear of the unknown can be crippling but if you can step beyond it, the possibilities could be endless!  

The world is your oyster -
if you stop farming snails
you just might start collecting pearls!



these photos contain affiliate links and I will be compensated if you make a purchase after clicking on them
 

It has been three months since the last episode of Thrift Blitz.  Three months!  And I really haven't done three month worth of thrifting.  Interpret that as you like - it's good because it's kept money in my pockets - it's bad because thrifting brings me some weird kind of joy...not that I've been joyless without it...hmmmm, I'm rambling.

For my birthday, my mother-in-law gave me a gift certificate for Value Village.  She should get a prize!  She obviously knows what makes me tick!

I headed up to the roaring metropolis of Owen Sound for some much appreciated time among the racks, overflowed my cart and spent much too long in a little change room.  But that's how you make it count - trying on a million things that don't fit or that you don't completely love once you've got it on {like that blue sweater in the photo below} in order to find the few that do fit and you do love.  It's all worth it in the end - though the bored teenager might differ in his opinion of the whole thing...

But first things first - to highlight a participant from Episode Two.  Last time I had a whopping two people share their great finds.  That's double what I had for Episode One!  I'd call that a victory!

My friend over at CrossRoad Farm found this thrifted beauty and it was ABSOLUTELY FREE.   She has great plans to bring it out of it's dated funk into some glorious new version of itself.  I have to admit, I'm quite jealous of the piece - just look at the interesting detail - I can't wait to see her finished product!  And if you have the time, wander around her blog for a while - she's quite funny in the way she shares her day to day life on her never-boring farm!

This is taking simple dressing to a whole new level.  It's basically a blouse that keeps on going right down to my knees and when I wear it I feel like a 1950's housewife because of the A-line shape of the skirt...all I'd need is an apron.

First of all, this is so soft and the blue is so pretty.  I love it's homemade feel {though I'm pretty sure it's a Marks Work Warehouse special}.  Obviously it has to be worn with something underneath {I'm a 35-year-old mother of three for goodness sake!!} but I just happen to have a collection of camisoles that will make this sweater an appropriate addition to my wardrobe.

Because it's nice to dress things up every once in a while.

I really chose this one for the lace detail on the back...isn't it pretty?  I also like the length and drawstring waist {it didn't photograph well so you're not seeing the whole thing} - it's good for those lazier work days when you want to dress frumpy but don't want to look it.  Comfort in a lovely green package!

If you know me even a little bit you should know my affinity for Anne Rice's Vampire Collection*.  I liked these boots on first glace but one look at their inner label 'Lestat' and I knew they were to be mine.  Unfamiliar?  Lestat is one of Anne's most enticing vampire creations, whom I revisit among her pages by rereading the series every couple of years.

I have a thing for globes.  I don't know what it is.  Perhaps I'm lamenting this new generation who depends on GPS to take them anywhere...

Yes, yes, we've established that I love cardigans** but I love this one for it's feminine seaming along the back that gives it a little more shape and a little more of a flattering fit.

 

I'm hoping my next Thrift Blitz will be a special 'FREE' edition in which I share great treasures I've found for free...perhaps even giving away some of my secrets for keeping your money in your pocket!  Stay tuned...

*Anne Rice's books are not for the faint of heart or the easily offended - they are rich and dark and eloquent and fascinatingly powerful.  Read at your own risk and don't say I didn't warn you.

** My unapologetic love for 'The Cardigan' can be seen in both Thrift Blitz Episode One and Thrift Blitz Episode Two.

I look upon him and I can't believe the passage of time.  I can't believe how we've arrived here in this moment where I am taking him to learn about high school.  I can't believe he's taller than me and his feet are the size of a yeti's and he's ready to shake off the childishness of elementary school and enter through the doors that will pave the way to his future.

We walked into that building on Thursday night and it still smelled like 1996 and I felt young and giddy and proud as I led him down hallways that hold the echo of my memory - walls and walls of scars that tell the tales of generations.

I found myself there - in the history classroom where Ms. Rowntree let us watch Grease on our lunch break - in the english classroom where Mr. Abel played Beatle records and let me learn my own way - in the math classroom where I wanted to cry but Mr. Mengers told me not to give up - against the locker with a squirrel painted on it where I kissed the boyfriend who became my husband...

People say you couldn't pay them to go back to those years but I think I would go for free.  Sure, I had my fair share of teenaged angst and cried my broken heart out behind the out-of-bounds stairwell but it was also a time of great discovery and expectation and thrilling fun.  I would go back knowing I had to appreciate my youth, that I was beautiful, that life would never be as easy as it was the days I walked those halls....

left: my friends and I hanging out in the hallway   right: me and the other editors of the school poetry magazine

1998 - high school graduation

As we sat through the presentation by the principal and guidance counselors I felt thrilled that my boy - the little Zander I rocked and sang to through colic and nightmares - would soon leave his own mark on the same place I left mine and that years from now, perhaps he too will gaze on his own child with warm memories of the great moments he found in that old building.

2014 is already long gone.  I don't even know how that happens.  I remember watching the clock tick over to the year 2000 like it was yesterday and how we all kind of held our breath because a tiny piece of us thought that just maybe the crazy people who thought the whole world would shut down because computers didn't understand the year 00 we're right and we'd be facing a future in the darkness.  

That was fifteen years ago.  

Time flies.  

It's strange.  I'm already writing 2015 on documents without even thinking about it...

To honor the great year I had sharing my life and spilling my thoughts out into the internet ether I've decided to look back through all of my 2014 posts, find the most popular based on views received and share them here.  Because maybe you missed one.  And because it's fun to look back at memories made over a twelve month span and realize that they still matter all these months later...

"What's your passion?" he asked me. "You aren't allowed to say family or your work.  What are five other things you're passionate about." 

We were driving somewhere, that yellow lined highway dashing by and my head spinning circles with the question out of nowhere.  Because really it's a question of Who Am I? Stripped down to the core. What makes me tick? What stirs my blood into a fury of passionate pursuit?