Blindsided by a side of crazy.

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Nothing wastes a perfectly beautiful day like trying to figure out why someone doesn’t like you. Don’t serve up that side dish of crazy. Be happy with you and keep walking.

I’m baaack!

Oh sweet mercies the roads I have traveled these last two years.

Ups and downs.

Joys and disappointments.

Life abundantly.

I will say this isn’t my usual kind of post. At least not of late. Not that I’ve posted much lately, but you know. I meant to. Being distracted by a side dish of crazy makes it really difficult to write anything that matters.

Yes, you read that right. I haven’t been writing because I got distracted by my own crazy. I can’t write that so and so will be upset. I can’t write about this because that will upset someone else. I can’t write about….

GAH!

Enough already.

I’m in a new writer’s group and it’s time to break this cycle, take off my water wings and swim again.

There are also some things you should know about me if you are new around here: I cuss some times, I’ve been known to drink whiskey on occasion and while I’m considered a bleeding heart liberal here in the bible belt, the truth is I’m really more of a moderate. I do love horses and cycling, I’m just banned from both until my broken leg finishes healing. I love rockin open comedy mics, I play banjo for fun and believe it or not, I am really happy you are here.

I’m not going to tell you how to get everyone to like you (you can’t) or how to be a better Lutheran, I left the Lutheran church three years ago, which is when this whole mess started so  you know.  I’m not even going to tell you how to be a better wife. As for gardening, well… that’s what nurseries are for so go find a master gardener and have a ball.

I want to have fun writing again. So this is just me raw, mildly edited and hopefully offering a side dish of humor.

I’ve been through a lot of changes over the last few years. Some great, some notsomuch, but changes all the same.

I am going to tell you the cold hard truth that some people won’t be happy with your changes, your choices, or even your hair. And I am here to tell you that you will not die from that. And I know that because I didn’t.

I’m writing this because there are several of us in my new writing group who have faced this same dilemma. They feel alone like I once did. Together we are sharing our stories in hopes they find their way to other women like us. The hope is to be an encouragement for those who are afraid they are too much.  Too loud. Too smart. Too outside of the lines for humanity.

We aren’t lone rangers. We are women who care about other women. May our strength become yours.

My blog did great in 2012 and then something unthinkable happened. The very people I believed would be excited for me, weren’t and I got upset by that. Not just a little upset either. Think  literally shake whenever I met someone new upset. Super sweet oh please be my new best friend, upset. Mad at you to the point I thought my skull would burst and still not say a word about it so that you will still like me upset. Obsess over every nuance, phrase or contact to see where I stand on everyone’s “HOW MUCH I LIKE DEANA TODAY” Chart upset.

We are talking full frontal crazy my friends. 

There were those who told me I needed to repent of all this dreaming about writing a book and doing stand up comedy and just go back to being small so that they could be comfortable with their own choices.  I hate to admit it, but I may very well have given in to the pressure at least for a little while. I lost my voice. I got scared. I almost let my blog die and clung instead to the tattered shreds of their garments hoping they’d like me again. It was nauseating.

I didn’t even realize it was jealousy. I started thinking that maybe I really did deserve being the one to bring cookies to funerals and nothing more. Maybe they were right.  Maybe that was the only thing I really deserved. After all, I must be an awful person if they are reacting so violently.

I even considered releasing my first book under a pseudonym so that I wouldn’t lose any more friends. Or worse, not writing it at all.

I wish I could change those two years, but I can’t. All I can do is learn from it and move on.

It never occurred to me that jealousy was behind it all. Not once.  Here’s  the deal, there will be people who will be jealous of you. Impossible you say? Nope. Gonna happen so get ready.

Someone finally put it this way. You put a bunch of male lobsters in a pot of boiling water and they will help each other climb out. Put a bunch of female lobsters in a pot, they’ll pull each other back in. Don’t get pulled back in!

Yes we’re taught to play nice and be relational, but the truth is you can’t nice jealousy away.  Allowing another person’s opinion of you to become your problem is no solution.

Let it go, trust your gut and follow your heart. 

Do you remember that comedy judge who called bullshit on my set two years ago saying “if this is what you believe about yourself, someone lied to you.” and then told me to go find the real me and bring it next year? Yeah well — turns he was right. I did believe those things and someone DID lie.

The biggest lie I remember being told – It’s your fault if other women reject you.

Can I tell you a secret?

My Facebook friends list used to include women I know  hate me. Crazy right?  Do you know why?  I thought if they got to know me — the “real” me (as if FB is ever real) and saw all the stuff my husband and I did, they might eventually like me.

You know what?

They didn’t.

What a colossal waste of my time.

If I knew then what I know now I’d tell you to hang in there. It gets better. I promise. I hung in there long enough to learn that not all women are petty and fearful and rejection isn’t always caused by anything I did or didn’t do.  Being uber sweet and playing small won’t help. Let’s face it, I bet there are women out there that hate Maryann from Gilligan’s Island.  Even Ginger was jealous of her – remember that? Now who hates Maryann? People do.

photo (98)
My “evil” costume that caused the stir my first year singing in The Messiah. Okay so maybe it does look a little like a leopard print. Even so, she was rude.

Sometimes rejection is 100% about the insecurity of the other woman. There are women who see someone they deem beautiful and the walls instantly go up and the teeth come out.

I remember being blindsided by a cat fight a many years ago while getting ready to sing in a local presentation of The Messiah. It was my first year, and I was afraid.

“Oh wow a leopard print dress in The Messiah, how appropriate.”

“It’s not leopard, it’s wood grain. My friend made it for me.”

Insert eye roll and huff as she walks away.

All I remember about her is she was a pastor’s wife and a friend of a friend. She’d been at the same retreats I had. I liked her right up until that moment.

This was right before we headed upstairs to start the program. I started hyperventilating and someone grabbed my hand and stood there with me until I caught my breath. Not that his fiance’ appreciated that either though. Even so, I didn’t care and I was thankful for the kindness.

See the problem is, I didn’t realize yet that I hadn’t done anything wrong.

It would be wonderful if I could tell you I was in high school when this happened. I wasn’t. I was 34 and miss indignant was in her 40’s.

So here’s the deal girlfriend. Being nice isn’t going to fix this.You can’t nice someone out of jealousy. I know because I’ve tried. It makes you look icky. Really it does. That plus it’s just pathetic.

Catty women know no age limit and I want you to remember something.  The right women will like you no matter what so to hell with the catty and insecure ones who need you to play small. 

Did you hear me?

To
                    Hell
                                              With
                                                                             Them!

I know that sounds harsh — and it sounds harsh because you are still hanging onto the false hope that the woman who gives you grief, who bullies you, lies about you, whatever will finally like you if you just try hard enough. I’m ripping that band aid of denial right off of your heart. I do know the more spiritual answer is to let them go with love and leave them to God. That’s great but I know you. I know me. If we sugar coat this, we’ll have the false hope that they’ll come to their senses.

No

They

Won’t.

It’s just not going to happen.  Let’s accept that and move on. 

Put this on your refrigerator if you have to.

You are beautiful.

You are smart.

You are brave.

You are a child of God.

Own it.

You do not have to play small around women who matter.  The right women will encourage you to grow bigger and stronger along with them. Trust me on this.

Print this picture out and post it on your bathroom mirror. You are beautiful. Own it like you mean it. Be brave sweet girl.

be brave

Wordless Wednesdays: Handel’s Messiah

 

I didn’t grow up in the church. I never went to Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, or Egg Hunts. I never even got to be in a Christmas Pageant. Ever. I cannot begin to explain what it felt like as a kid, to see the neighborhood churches bustling with activity and knowing I couldn’t be a part of it. Those things were for members only. I wasn’t a member.

Through a wonderful set of circumstances – meeting my husband and moving to Oklahoma – I did join my very first church in 1993, and I have never looked back.

Ten years ago, a friend of mine told me about the All Lutheran Messiah and invited me to participate. That was big deal, because all Lutherans do not see eye to eye, and technically we’re not even allowed to worship together, lest we give the impression we agree on doctrine. — I kind of think that is stupid, but that’s just me. I tend to be more ecumenical than my brothers and sisters in the LCMS realm. Christ is the only thing that matters to me. If we share that, what difference does the rest make?

Hence, I’ll never be an LCMS staff member. — Don’t get me wrong, I love my LCMS Church, I love my pastor, I love my husband, I even love my Synod. I just love God a little bit more. There are too many rules surrounding paid staff. They aren’t allowed to publicly worship, commune, or pray with non LCMS people lest they give the impression that they agree on doctrine. As a newcomer, I can’t help but interpret that to mean they are more afraid of what people think then they are God and I don’t understand that.

Let me re-phrase that. I spent most of my life being more afraid of what people thought than God, and today, I’m trying to repent of that and avoid those traps. So if I spot an issue like this, it’s only because I have an issue like this.

LCMS isn’t alone, we have many denominations under the Christian Church umbrella. I just don’t understand the separations. The body of Christ is the body of Christ. Jesus is ONE bridegroom, and he has ONE bride. I believe the titles on our doors do more to break the body than it does make it.

Up until last year’s ELCA Synodical convention, most local  LCMS congregations participated in this joint presentation. Because of changes that ELCA made, many of our LCMS churches chose to drop out. I won’t go into that here. LCMS staff members were even forced out of participating for fear of losing their jobs.  We as a group had to make some changes in order to keep this alive.

Structurally, the Messiah presentation is its own NPO and is not supported by any synod. There are no pastor’s leading any aspect of the service, there is just “the multitude,” meaning the singers. We don’t even publically pray together. But those changes are not enough for some people.

Some churches have chosen to do their own in-house services to replace this, and I refuse to support those.

Why?

Because I’m the kid who walked past churches like that and felt left out. You had to know somebody on the inside in order to go.

Christmas is a time we are called to look past ourselves, and give to others. In house presentations for members only, flies in the face of what Christ came to do. The Jews wanted an “in-house” Messiah and he shocked them by coming not only for them, but for the Gentiles as well. Jesus became that “somebody” to know.

Being a part of sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ for the community is more important to me than some political debate. I still sing in The Messiah and this is our 90th year, making us the second longest running presentation in the United States.

In our liturgical calendar year ends this Sunday where we look to the second coming of Christ. The following Sunday, marks the beginning of Advent (The Christmas Season) where we as a body, look forward (in spirit) to the first coming of Christ. We celebrate his birth.

Right now, while we practice the choral runs and solos, time intersects my spirit. Christ’s birth, death, resurrection, and return consume me today and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart: Confessions of a Spiritual Bulimic. All rights reserved 11/17/10. My views and opinions are not necessarily reflective of my home congregation or Synod. These are just my thoughts.

Wordless Wednesdays: 1989

It was 80’s week on Facebook last week and we were asked to post pictures of ourselves from that hilarious decade. Do any of you remember the Aqua-Net fog in the girls locker room? I still have hair big enough to have its own zip code. My scanner isn’t working, but I do have a picture of my sweetie and I at a wedding in Chicago, 1989.

We met in October of 1988 — he worked in Customer Service at Sprint-United and I worked in IT. He spilled coke on his keyboard and I replaced it with an apparently defective refurbished keyboard. He swears I did that on purpose. Poor man asked me out several times and one day I finally told him that “I don’t normally date men I work with.”

His response?  “That’s okay because I’m not normal.”

We went on our first date on December 3, 2008 — He took me to a really fun pizza place, off  Touhy and Dempster in Chicago and then to a comedy club. We’ve been together ever since and he is still my favorite man on the planet.