Category: Redemption’s Heart – pieces of my story

Bullies Don’t Scare Me Like They Used to.

Deana2 Comments

But now, this is what the LORD says— he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. —

Know any bullies in your life? I once believed that bullies were something that only existed on the play ground at school or on the walk home. I can remember being chased home by a boy up the street with threats of annihilation. Mom said he had a crush on me. I don’t believe her. I really think he just liked the fear that he was able to get out of me. It was a control thing.  I wasn’t the only kid he did that to. Sad part is someone had enough and ran him down with a car when he was older.

It was no different with the A-List girls. You’ve seen the movie “Mean Girls” haven’t you? — Them. Those ultra popular, pretty girls, who live to make the awkward, late bloomer as my mother would call it, girls like me miserable. I would inevitably allow those girls to define who I was — a sniveling mess of mascara hiding in the girls room – as an ugly, stupid, never get it right kid. The more they taunted, the more invisible I wanted to become.

I spent most of Jr High and a lot of high school hiding from girls like that. I was also a majorette and in student council. You’d think I’d know better. But I didn’t.

I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I got brave one year. As fate would have it, one of these mean girls was alone in the locker room. Her goonie body guards were nowhere to be found and I came up behind her, grabbed her hair and body slammed her face into the locker. What felt good for about five seconds didn’t feel so good afterwards. Her goonie friends weren’t as missing as I had thought and faster than you can say “detention” they threw my half dressed body onto the co-ed gymnasium floor, landing me at the feet of our middle school principal.

Getting even with cheap shots like that is never worth it.

Bullies exist well into adulthood and I’ll write about that tomorrow. For right now, I’d love to hear from you. Have you ever been bullied? What did you do?

Finding Rest

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It is in the quiet of morning, that God sings to my heart a love song so strong and pure that nothing can stand against it and beauty finds rest.–Deana O’Hara

What moves you?

What voice calls you in the morning?

Where do you find rest?

One Month Tomorrow

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Can you believe that I dropped my oldest son off at college one month ago tomorrow? I didn’t think I’d survive the change. I mean part of me knew I would, and part of me was afraid I wouldn’t. You can read how it went HERE. I am happy to report that things have gotten easier for me. Even though I miss him a lot, I no longer cry at the drop of a hat.

I realized that I was treating the situation as if he had died. And he hasn’t. But I was treating it that way. Telling myself that Charlie would want me to be strong. What kind of mother am I if I just curl up and stop living because my son moved out? I’m better than this. And I willed myself through my first couple of weeks. God and I got really close again, trust me.

It’s not that I haven’t been planning for this. I have. My boys are a huge part of my life, and yet I have made sure they are not my total life lest I wake up feeling hopelessly alone when they leave. What I didn’t expect was the tidal wave of emotions. I didn’t expect to grieve.

But you know what? Grieving is okay.

We still facebook each other. He does call. And he has visited home once already. College is going great. He’s going to be just fine. And so am I.

Chonda Pierce Prettyville coming to CMT

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Alison, Chonda Pierce, and her National Turbos in Nashville
Alison, Chonda Pierce, and her National Turbos in Nashville

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I quit ministry once, did you know that? Well I did. I joined the Christian Writers Guild and went to work in a church to pay for my classes. Within 12 months, I buried ten of my closest friends, lost the only school my kids had ever known (Bankruptcy), and my birth father showed up on my door step – homeless, jobless, and penniless. To call me pressed would be an understatement.

There were also relational conflicts with the people who were still living, and I’d reached my limit. So I packed up my little bag of sorrows, handed my hopes and dreams back to God and essentially told him, he could keep them. I was done.

I didn’t quit God, per se’ , I just quit ministry. It wasn’t worth it, the church wasn’t worth it, people weren’t worth it, and little old me just wanted to curl up in a hole somewhere and die. Not only was I throwing a pity party, I had hats, streamers, favors, and cake. Lots and lots of cake. – which would explain the 50 pounds I gained.

No one warned me about spiritual warfare. I wasn’t equipped. The truth is though, while I may have turned in my resignation to God – He didn’t resign on me. My gracious and wonderful heavenly father, poured out his Spirit into my wounded soul and blessed me with a rather unusual gift.

I had gone to Women of Faith just a few short months before bailing on ministry and while I was there, I had seen Chonda Pierce for the first time. I laughed until I cried. I was so impressed with what I saw that I signed some form of some kind saying “Sure, if Chonda comes to my town, I’d love to help.”

I don’t remember doing that. But lo – a few measly months later, I get an email from Chonda’s best friend Alison asking for help. Ali wanted to know if I would be a Lead Turbo for Tulsa as Chonda and Kenn Kington were coming to the Brady Theater that Spring.

Turbos are men and women who help coordinate volunteers at these comedy concerts as well as work with the promoters to get the word out to area churches about Chonda’s concerts. It’s a lot of work and it is so worth it.

I reminded God that I had quit ministry and He gently reminded me that I had signed up for this and should probably keep this commitment. Just this one then we’ll talk. So I did.

I coordinated volunteers, brought my bible study ladies to the show, worked with Bob at Trinity Communications, met Chonda and Kenn, shook in my boots, and promptly ran away. I was a mess. I couldn’t believe that God would allow me to do something like that. Why was he blessing me in the middle of a temper tantrum? Maybe he knew something I didn’t.

I’ve been volunteering as a Turbo now for almost six years or so. I don’t run away any more and I’ve made the most amazing turbo sister friends in the world. I’ve learned how to love and how to live again. Not because of Chonda, but through her and through God’s grace.

I didn’t know her story when I agreed to do this and now that I do, I wouldn’t stop. She is just too funny, too precious, and loves God in ways I can only imagine.

So… Turbo action here – The picture above is of a few of her national leads, myself included, in Nashville Tennessee in February 2009. We decided among ourselves to surprise Chonda and go to her video taping of This Ain’t Prettyville and help anyway we could. The taping was a pure blast as was finally meeting other turbos face to face.

Here is where you come in – CMT has chosen to pick up Chonda’s new video and air it as a Comedy Special. We need your help.

CHONDA WANTS YOU!!!
To Laugh and To Vote
by watching her CMT Special
“This Ain’t Prettyville”
 
 America’s funniest female comedienne Chonda Pierce on CMT!!!

 We need your TV tuned in to CMT for Chonda Pierce, This Ain’t Prettyville, CMT – September 15th!
7pm Central
8pm Eastern
8pm Pacific on cable
5pm Pacific on dish

 This is your chance to impact network TV. By simply tuning in, you are casting a vote through the ratings system for great family laugh-filled entertainment – which we all need more of.
Let’s do it!

 Be a part of the Chonda Team! Cast Your Vote!

 www.chonda.org

 

Baby Steps for Mom

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I’m looking for something profound to write, and I got nadda. I’m in the middle of learning how to let go of my oldest son, and I’ve discovered there is no easy solution. This is my child and I suddenly find myself swimming in a sea of what if’s and needless fears. That is not an easy path. Nor is it a path in which I am alone in. Mother’s all over the world struggle with letting go of their children when they want wings. They get wings, and we grow stronger as well. It’s all part of life.

God’s promises are true. The only way that I can let go of my son is to remember that he isn’t mine to hang on to. He belongs to God. So with every visit, every phone call, every email, I say a silent prayer and give him back to the one who created him to begin with.

That doesn’t mean I don’t care. I do care. That doesn’t mean I haven’t cried. I do. Even still, I also have to trust that God cares for him far more than I will ever be able.

I love listening to the college stories. I love hearing about the new things he’s learning – Broadcast Journalism. And I love seeing the changes that are already taking place.

My child is becoming a man. If I don’t let go, I’ll miss this new creation that God is molding. I’ll miss the beauty of life. I don’t want to miss that.

Chonda Pierce sang a song when her oldest left for college called “Hold on Tighter”. My boys were still in middle school the first time I heard it and I remember thinking what a pretty song. I cry when I listen to it today. I get it now. The solution in letting go of my child’s hand is to grab onto the hand of God. –” You just hold on tighter to a hand that stronger.” This parent is learning how to become a child again and hold on to my Daddy’s hand while he takes care of my son.

For more of Chonda see her web sight at www.chonda.org

What a Year it has been

Deana2 Comments

Dear Heavens, I turned 44 this week and I still haven’t won an academy award. Not that I haven’t tried. Being a redhead and all – you’d think I would have. Sadly no academy’s for me. And I guess that’s a good thing really.

My life is not what I would have expected 20 years ago. I’m not an award winning novelist, or actress, or circus clown (Mom breathes a silent prayer of relief over that one.) for that matter I don’t have a career to speak of at all like I once thought I would. I’m a married mother of two really neat teenagers and my life consists of helping out with our Mission Start, teaching Sunday School for Women, going to my son’s soccer games, planting my gardens, cooking meals, cleaning my house, loving my husband and becoming a stand up comic. I think that is a good life.

I like to take an inventory every year on my birthday. Just an honest look and where I’ve been and where I want to be. I set new goals and strive for them each year.  Last year my goals included learning new things, being more brave, and walking closer with God.

Did you know that if you set the goal of “not being so afraid” it doesn’t mean the fear goes away, it means you get to feel the fear and do it anyway?

So what big scary things did I get to do this year? – I didn’t die by the way, which I’m sure you figured out because you are reading this post.

My scary things that turned out to be still scary but didn’t kill me.

  • Drove to the Children’s Medical Hospital in Fort Worth with Dillon for three days to find answers. – we did and he’s seizure free today.
  • Drove to Nashville with other Turbo Sisters to be there at Chonda Pierce’s new video taping.
  • Flew to Nashville to be in Ken Davis’s Professional Communicator’s Summit. — I shook to my bones, but did it anyway.
  • Drove to Nashville (Yes, I’m in love with Nashville this year) for the Christian Comedy Association Conference, found “home” and joined the association.
  • Performed a LIVE three minute comedy set in front of Kenn Kington, Nazareth, Thor Ramsey, Bone Hampton, LeLand and a bunch of other profession Christian comics – okay so I almost wet myself over that, but hey, I did it! And I made them laugh. Not bad.
  • Drove to Nashville with Jeff to spend 48 hours at the Cove with Randy and Chris Elrod for some retreat and mentoring time.
  • Did another live stand up set – this one about seven minutes at the Ablaze Fall Festival and did well enough that people told me I’ve found my right path. 😉 and I was nervous, but not scared.

While looking for God in the midst of fear, I found his path for me. Interesting. He picked the one thing that would seem to scare me most, being myself in front of other people.

Things I don’t do well

  • Taking care of myself.
  • Managing my time.
  • Speaking up without acting out – I still have my temper when I’m tired.

So I have some new goals for this coming year.

  1. Improve this new path by taking one new class, Dynamic Communicator’s Workshop, with Jeff.
  2. Walking two miles a day with my boarder collie Rocky. I tried to do three, but my ankle won’t tolerate it.
  3. Call my mom more than once every other month. I’m really bad at keeping in touch with her.
  4. Take some healthy cooking classes from Whole Foods.
  5. Learn how to say no to the things that get in the way of what God wants me to say yes to.

Simple stuff really. But worthy of noting. I’m a caretaker who needs to learn how to take better care of myself. So that is what I plan on focusing on this year. I want to celebrate more birthdays and set more goals for my life.

Do you set goals every year? Would you share on with me?

Social Networking (But that’s NOT what I meant!)

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home alone pic

Imagine if you will, posting a humor piece that is poorly received. So poorly received in fact that one woman actually posts something along the lines of calling you “an overstuffed pig who plays with puppets and can’t keep a day job.” How eager will you be in responding? Will you be nice enough to say “Give me three days to think about my response and I’ll get back to you?”

My head line should read “Smart man meets stupid redhead with a hot temper and behaves much better than she does.” I’ll be lucky if I hear from him in the next century much less in three days.

For better or for worse, the world wide web makes everything more readily accessible than ever before. That applies to great things, and not so great things. The web makes it easy for all of us to sit behind a screen and communicate things to a computer forgetting we’re talking to a person.

Every day I read words that I know the person would not use face to face. Some days I respond with words I’d never use in person. Some days I’m brutally harsh. The downside with writing, is tone cannot be conveyed. It takes a very talented writer to properly convey humor. And it takes self restraint to not ask the person where their head was when they wrote that story when the humor fails to be conveyed. While my self restraint is improving, I still have a lot of work to do. As is the case with a very talented comic whom I called a stuffed pig yesterday. He wrote (what I hope) is a humor piece only I didn’t get it.

I didn’t see the humor. I saw (read) a very degrading post against women – and it lit a fire in me that ensured 1 – he’ll never hire me to open for him and 2. I was not so sure I wanted to ever buy tickets to his show anymore. I should have sat on my “instinct” and said nothing. Really.

I allowed my emotions to rule my actions – I’m usually better than that.  I should have read it, remembered the guidelines for commenting (keep your comments productive or move on) and either moved on or simply stated “Wow, I don’t get this, would you please expound?”  Turns out it was a humor piece – but not having a personal relationship with said comic – I did not know that. I should not have called him anything.  That not the way to communicate “I don’t understand this.” Chances are, he’ll never speak to me again – and I deserve that.

In today’s world we can blog, twitter, digg, and stumble our way to fame (for better and for worse) and mediocrity in a heart beat. There is no such thing as a “private” email, e-zine, or blog post. We forget that as writers. Sometimes, self indulgent creatures that we are, we forget that while *I* know what I meant by this or that post, my reader may not. I need to choose my words carefully.

There are wonderful writers out there – and I do not pretend to be one of them. There are great blogs to read and to learn from – most of them are on my blog roll.

My whole point here is I forgot I was responding to a person – and that is never cool

Blogs and social networking are about relationships and two way communication. And with the “safety” of a computer screen, we sometimes write blogs we’d never speak out loud and sometimes we comment or email responses using words we’d (hopefully) never say otherwise.

Has that ever happened to you?

Letting Go (Let Go and Let God)

Deana20 Comments

Once upon a time, or as most tales go, a young gal with a heart full of love and compassion heard a story that made her very sad. Being two pennies short of common sense, she came to believe that she could fix this problem and therefore set herself up as a shield of protection.

Forgetting the words of John the Baptist,

“I am not the Christ.”

she stretched out her arms

and stood in the gap

between those who threatened harm

and the one she was protecting.

If she just tried hard enough,

she believed or fought hard enough,

protected long enough,

everything would be okay.

Only everything wasn’t okay. The harder she stood her ground, the harder they fought and the more he seemed to need her. The more she did to protect him, the less he seemed willing to do for himself and the less honest he became.

Once she realized that no man

carries a burden that someone else

is willing to bear or faces a truth

that no one is willing to tell him

and that he’d grown weaker

and not stronger like she’d hoped,

she laid down his cross

and took up her own.

She meant well and it almost cost her life. In time she remembered the words of the one in the desert. The one who’s role was to make straight the crooked path, and point believers to the one who would come after him. She remembered that “standing in the gap” means standing in prayer and support, not in self-sacrifice.

She found a note one day, written just for her and other two-penny-short friends who mean well. Together, she and her new friends, trudged the road of happy destiny. They laughed, leaned on each other, and stayed under the protective wings of the God they no longer needed to pretend to be.

Letting Go

  • To “Let Go” does not mean to stop caring, it means I can’t do it for someone else.
  • To “Let Go” is not to cut myself off, it’s the realization I can’t control another. To “Let Go” is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences.
  • To “Let Go” is to admit powerlessness, which means the outcome is not in my hands.
  • To “Let Go” is not to try to change or blame another, it’s to make the most of myself.
  • To “Let Go” is not to care for, but to care about.
  • To “Let Go” is not to fix, but to be supportive.
  •  To “Let Go” is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.
  •  To “Let Go” is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes, but to allow others to affect their own destinies.
  •  To “Let Go” is not to be protective, it is to permit another to face reality.
  • To “Let Go” is not to deny, but to accept.
  • To “Let Go” is not to nag, scold or argue, but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.
  • To “Let Go” is not to adjust everything to my desires but to take each day as it comes, and cherish myself in it.
  •  To “Let Go” is not to regret the past, but to grow and live for the future.
  • To “Let Go” is to fear less and love more. – Unknown.

Letting Go – is my knowing that I cannot play God and believe in God at the same time.

If someone’s addictions are causing you pain, these groups can help.

Al-Anon If someone’s drinking is causing you pain, Al-Anon can help

S-Anon S-Anon is a program of recovery for those who have been affected by someone else’s sexual behavior.

Sanity Support:  Do you have an adult child who is breaking your heart? An aging parent taking up your whole life? A problem with food? A co-worker making you hate your job? Learn how you can find SANITY and take back your life.

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. July 22 2009 and may not be copied in any way shape or form.

Summer Life with Boys

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firecracker

Dear readers: Today’s post is more tongue in cheek than my usual fare. Being home with teenagers this summer is both a joy and well, strange. A lot has changed now that my youngest is 16 and my oldest is leaving for college. Long gone are the days where I could read about 101 fun things to do with your kids over summer break and they would humor me for a day or two. Those ideas never worked anyway on my boys. No, my boys want adventure, they want daring, they want food, they do not want cutsie crafts and nifty games with tin cans. They want to hunt, gather, blow up things and chase girls. Me personally, I just want a nap.

Times have changed, have they not? This photo above – shows two young boys getting caught shooting off firecrackers. Today all a family has to do is march down to City Hall and buy a permit for $20 and you are allowed to play with things that have the potential to blow off fingers and more. 

Let’s face it, boys are born wanting to blow up things, watch war movies and ask for bacon for dinner.

At least mine are. Granted they are 16 and 18. Blowing up Army guys, watching movies like Defiance or SAW and having Bacon and Eggs for dinner, is for them the perfect guy day.

Problem is, I’m a girl in a house full of men.  I don’t like any of those things. If I had my way, we’d be planting a vegetable garden or going to the museum, or something safe. Jeff warned me that if I did not allow the boys to be boys, I would “permanently scar their psyche.” As if the scars they received from trying to toboggan over the creek while it was partially frozen last winter aren’t bad enough I have worry about emotional scars as well.

Let’s face it, for the sake of my sanity I’m pretty much a don’t ask, don’t tell kind of mom when it comes to this guy world. I won’t ask what you’ve been doing and you don’t tell me how high the creek was when you broke through the ice and we’re good. Better yet, don’t tell me you broke through the ice or even that you tried to jump it – just sneak through the back door, put your clothes in the dryer and run through the house naked. I promise not to say anything.

My youngest hates the don’t ask don’t tell compromise of neurotic mom and wants to include me in every horrific detail. I can either breath deep and pray long, or go on Prozac for my nerves. I choose breathing. I also choose to join them, sometimes, on these adventures.

I know how deep the creek is because we’ve explored it during the summer.

I know the cliff down to it is about 20 feet – and that you cross over the ravine on a fallen oak tree.

I know where the rabbit hole is and where the copperheads hang out.

I’ve held many a frog and lizzard, a python, hugged wolves, fed tigers and lions (from behind a BIG cage), bottle fed a baby bear, and blown up Gi Joes.

I know that it takes only one firecracker to blow up an army guy and that model rocket fuse plugs need an electrical current to light and should not be used to blow up GI Joes – I also know those fuses plugs will NOT light with a simply firecracker fuse and I thank heavens for that lest Joe permanently be implanted in the side of my chimney. Rocket launcher fuse plugs need the rocket for stability. I knew why it wouldn’t lite and I know enough NOT to tell my son.

I know that my husband and his brothers played “war” with Roman Candles and trash can lids when they were young and unsupervised.

And I know that as long as I’m along for the ride, I at least do not have to worry about that.

I also know that unwinding at the end of the day with a good glass of wine and a book of poetry does help restore some sense of femininity in my spirit. And that is a good thing too.

FGP Say’s I’m Not a Wheenie!

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Shaolin Kung Fu with SiFu Rick ThomasOn July 11, Runner’s World starts its free Tulsa Run training groups every Saturday morning. Runs start with stretching at 6:45 a.m. at Veterans Park, 21st Street and Boulder Avenue. There will be beginner and advanced 15k race training groups, and a 5k race training group. – Carrie Aspinwall

 

 

I am not a wheenie… did you see that? There are training groups for the Tulsa Run, including a training group for the 5K race. I love it. So, I can now proudly say (Because Carrie put it in print) that I am TRAINING for the 5K – life is so good.

So, who might you ask, is Carrie Aspinwall? Carrie is the Fitness Guinea Pig for the Tulsa World and she is training for the Tulsa Run. Carrie is also the women who turned me away from boot camp (Yikes!) and on to Zumba, a real live exercise/dance like class thing. If Carrie says it’s fun, we try it. Carrie knows healthy living.

I have three favorite Columinists with the Tulsa World. Carrie, Natalie Mikles and Jason Ashley Wright. Between them they cover everything this girl wants to know about Fitness, Food, and Fashion. Call me shallow, but hey, I like what I like. Which might explain why I know so little about politics. Either way.

I wasn’t always overweight, but I have always had issues with food. The smallest I’ve ever been is a size six and that was 20 years ago. I tend average around a size 10-12, which is an acceptable size for me. Right now, I average about 40ish pounds over that ideal and I need to get back in shape. I love working out. Seven years ago I studied Tia Chi and helped teach Shaolin Kungfu to kids at the YMCA. I could even do a really cool back kick back then. My father in law thought that was hilarious and warned my husband that life as he officially knew it was forever changed.

 I also enjoyed walking until I blew out my ACL playing church softball five years ago. Oddly enough I loved Re-hab. I had my own personal fitness trainer for two hours, twice a week and enjoyed every minute of it. Then my knee healed, and I was released and afraid to do anything else.

Since then I have been on many diets trying to lose 10-15 lbs and wound up gaining 40. In the past five years I’ve Weight Watched, Metifasted, Atkinsed, Acaiberried, green tea-ed till-I-peed-green my sorry self all the way to LA Weightloss and South Beach, only to diet  my way up to what I weigh now. I’m thinking I’ve done every diet out there from A-Z. That plus now when people comment on my “new” look, I tend to hoover brownies in response. Not cool.

So, I’m counting my calories – or at least trying to and I’m in training again. Yeah it’s for a 5k, a lousy 3.10 mile race. But so what. It’s a start. I didn’t start of doing spinning back kicks and wielding swords – or doing a perfect horse stance for five minutes when I did martial arts, I had to build up. Okay, actually I had to stop ducking when SiFu kicked in my direction – but the point is, I started somewhere.

This is my somewhere.