There's Bleep In The Fertilizer!

Do you know what organic fertilizer is made out of? There are three main ingredients in fertilizer, which are nitrogen, phosphorous, and potassium. With organic waste, I'll tell you what it's made out of...a lot of poo. Chicken poo, bird poo, blood meal, cow dung, etc., etc., etc. I think I just threw up a little in my mouth. Basically, a lot of shit, and other really nasty things. I promise that's the last time I'm cussing in this post. The rest shall be censored with bleeps.

We had a garden growing up. Actually, we had a garden at every point in my life. We've had them as far back as I can remember. Anyway, this was the first place I remember living, and we had a garden. We also had a dog. He was a Dalmatian named Bachelor Buttons. Cute, right? Yeah...he was not a smart dog. Dalmatians aren't really. But they're very cute and fun.

One of the best things you can use to fertilize your garden is compost. Old table scraps, food waste, etc. Every once in a while my dad would go out and put this stuff into the ground under the garden, and cover it up with dirt, then occasionally churn it up. There was some poo in there too. We had a dog, so it kind of goes without saying. Gross that poo and waste are what feeds a garden of things you...eat. Again, I just threw up a little in my mouth.

Anyway, I think the dog thought this was a game - the buried waste. After all, he was a dog. He got to dig for it, and then he got to eat it...all that nasty stuff. Bachelor ate too much garbage out of the garden one time, and died. Like I said, not very smart, but he was a dog, and I guess even rotting garbage was just too tempting not to take a bite of. It must have called to him like a pile of dog treats, "Come and get it. It's soooooo tasty! Mmmmm, yum!" Ewe.

I saw a Facebook post recently, from an acquaintance, talking about how people comment to her about how nice and sweet she is, and how she is such a great person. She responded saying that she has gone through really, really tough things in her life, and a time when she wasn't a nice person at all. She was mean, in a very bad place in life, and has done so many bad and hurtful things. But now she has made it through that, and that is why she smiles, because she loves life and people, and has compassion because of the things she's gone through.

I feel the same. I have people comment to me about the smile always being on, never seeming to be mad about anything, being so nice, etc. I always like to set the record straight that the smile is not always on, but when it is, it's because of God. I'm not always nice, but when I am, it's because of him too. And I do get mad, and I do wrong things all the time. You just might not see it. I have gone through so much pain to get where I am, both physically and emotionally. Bleep, really. Lots of bleep. There is no other word to describe some of the things I have gone through. I wouldn't wish it on anyone...not even the one(s) who inflicted it on me. That's the truth (most days).

I commented on my friend's Facebook post that the bleep we go through in life can be like fertilizer for an amazing new life, full of gratitude and joy. I've noticed that most people that are truly happy in life, have been through some really awful things and have made the CHOICE to live in joy, to use the bleep as fertilizer for an amazing life. This is not fake, or some blanket "everything is fine" statement to cover all bad things that happen in life. There is still stress, bad things, moments of anger and disappointment...life happens. But the choice to take on life, and really live it, is the mark of a strong person who has already been through a lot of...bleep, and decided to plant a beautiful garden on top of that pile of bleep and called it life.


I wrote previously about Words Feeding Lies and how old wounds can make their way to the present. I wish bleep in the garden fertilizer worked the same way as bleep in the fertilizer of life. You could just bury it, then churn it every once in a while and in time just morphs into beautiful rich soil. But there's an extra step that is needed in the life-kind, to make sure the bleep doesn't stay...well, bleep. You can churn it, lessen the pile, try and cover it up, or just bury it down deep, and think it's gone for good. But the fact is, the bleep in life doesn't just turn into beautiful, dark, rich new soil all on its own. It takes a lot of the right surroundings to encourage the process. I have experienced these things, and let me tell you, the list of things to help this process along is LONG! You know what I'm talking about.

I've been through traumatic and just plain bad things, and went through years of counseling to deal with all of it. I swear to you, I thought there was nothing else in my life I could have purged during this process. It was all coming out. Surely, this was the end of the old stuff. Surely my bleep had been dealt with, so I could just handle the new bleep that comes in every day. I took my lovely dark dirt, and planted a seed that started this beautiful garden I call my life. Tada!! Everything's great now!!

Hahahaha. That's so funny.
Sigh.

Growing up, our small city had this landfill that they capped, filled, and built a huge park and baseball fields on top of. I grew up in an agricultural community...the burbs on the edge of farmland. I remember the uproar this park caused, creating parks and fields for kids to play on, not knowing the effects of the bleep that sat beneath them?!?! Did you know that traditional landfills have exhaust pipes to release methane into the air? So, rotting garbage creates methane (so does manure). If you put that stuff in a sealed container and just leave it there untouched, methane can actually built up to a great enough level to cause an explosion. True statement. That's why you have to churn your compost. That why landfills have exhaust pipes. So, if I'm relating this back to human life fertilizer, the process we undergo with time, wounds, healing, and our past can be likened to this beautiful park on top of the sealed and filled landfill, and the methane released through the exhaust pipes likened to "life farts". That's what I'm going to call them - life farts. (I just came up with this, and it's kind of making me giggle.)

You know the feeling you get when that gas is building up. It's so uncomfortable, You're shifting around. You're trying to hold it in. Then you go to move, and....pffffffft. It's just never the right time, especially if you're around others. So often, it's the worst time. All of the sudden someone's asking, "Ewe, what's the smell?" Everyone's looking at each other. Who did it? Sometimes, the gas is followed by a little something extra. That's a thousand times worse.
Not that any of this has ever happened to me...ever. I'm a girl. I don't even fart. I don't know what you're talking about. Gas? Yeah right. I expel only sunshine and lollipops. I've only heard about these things. Just wanted to clarify.

So, is everyone pickin' up what I'm layin' down here? Are my metaphors making sense to everyone? 

Sometimes, I have life farts. And the people around me are asking, "Ewe, what's that smell?" Even I might be asking that question. "Oh, that. Sorry, that's just my bleep...coming back to haunt me at the most inopportune time!" I'm waving it around, lighting matches, moving out of the area, trying to pretend that does not exist, and that it didn't come from me, because all of those things are done and healed. Right? Oh, I'm sorry Self, you thought healing was a one-time thing? Haha. You're funny. Like the exhaust pipes of the landfill, situations in my life come up that remind me what my garden is planted on top of, and that smell is off-putting to everyone in the area...including me. Worse when it's got that little extra something added at the end that seems to touch whomever is standing near me.

How perfect a reminder right now in my life! Thanks God for the culmination of learning tools to help me deal in this moment, with my bleep. Perfecto! I love it when life comes together like that...except when it comes to unpleasant, stinky and disgusting things. We like to call those things "baggage". Like a suitcase I'm rolling behind me to every stop in life. I would prefer not to even carry on, but everyone has something they take with them when they go. I try to keep mine to the size of a small carry-on, or maybe even a toiletry bag, but sometimes I add to it on my travels, and it grows to the size of one of those jumbo suitcases with the expandable sides.

I get up to the counter to head out to my next destination and find out I'm over my weight limit. "Sorry ma'am. You have to pay extra for this size bag, or get rid of some stuff." Pfffffffffffffftsplat. Ewe, what's that smell? That's my baggage, AKA bleep, AKA my past...making an entry into my present.

"Excuse me, while I go take care of this "situation"."

I could light all the matches in the world, grab a shovel and start piling more dirt on top of it, plant some more flowers on it and try and make it look pretty. The fact is, there is only One in my life that can transform my life bleep into beautiful soil.

For sure, I do have a beautiful life, and a new creation, redeemed. But that life was built on a bed of difficult circumstances, and was fertilized with the scraps, and the waste, and the bleep of those things. Every once in a while I'm reminded of what's down there, and that it hasn't quite transformed into the right kind of soil to keep my garden growing beautiful things.

I have to dig it up and deal with it. Expose that bleep, let the air and then Son hit it, so it can remove the stench and dry up the hurt. Then I can cast it on the altar and burn that bleep. 

There is a season for everything. I am a new creation, but I am not without a past, present and future. I am not inhuman. "Everybody Poops", so that children's book says. "Bleep happens", as others say. I can't escape it. I can't escape others' either. 

Forgiveness is great. Love is greater. And God is the author of all.

Shall we, then?

More on this later.

Still practicing...

Words Feeding Lies

I've been thinking a lot lately about words that turn to lies, words that hurt, words that wound. It anyone has read any of John Eldridge's books, you will know what I'm talking about when I say, "words that are like arrows". There are many things that can effect a person's life, but words seem to mean more than a lot of things. And words said by the right person can leave wounds the size of small planets.
I recently held a women's breakfast, and asked each of the attendees to write affirmations about themselves, and then character traits or things about themselves. Lastly, I asked them to share three things they were struggling with. We then went around the patio and shared these things with each other. It was a moment (okay, more like an hour) of honesty with each other.
One of my close friends and I were talking about this time, later that weekend, and she was commenting to me how many of us shared struggles with self-worth. Self worth. Am I worthy? What makes me worthy as a woman...as a mother, wife, girlfriend, daughter, sister, lover, friend? What determines my worth, and why is it so damn hard to grasp it? Why does everything else in my life seem to hang on this one thing?
Seems pretty easy. I'm a Christian. I believe that someone died for my life. My life has that much value that someone died for it! Therefore, I should live a state of complete appreciation and understanding of said value, and never have a moment's question as to my significance, value, and purpose in this life. Sure, okay. Religiosity is so perfect, isn't it? Let's mix some guilt in with your doubt, because clearly if you're questioning these things you're missing something. Go read your Bible or something. I know this great Bible study you should go to. They talk all about these issues, and it could really help you. Gag me. (More on this in a sec.)

Half a lifetime ago...

Literally...half a lifetime ago (yikes), I was in my second year of college, and was part of a small traveling singing group. It was the best...a little family of sorts. Nine of us total, 4 females and 5 males, which included our sound guy. We even had matching outfits for performances. Yeah, we were legit. It was Bible college in the late 90's, and this was my second year with these friends. We had all been in a larger group, and some of us together in small ensembles the year before, so we all knew each other going into this year.

My life going into Bible college was tumultuous. Home life was a disaster. Some kids turn to partying, drinking, drugs, sex. I turned to Bible college. Seriously. I was running as fast and as far as I could from all of it, but it seemed like the safest and most responsible decision ("Good Girl, Running"...could have been a book title for this point in my life.) If anything, I had spent my life doing responsible and right, really well.

I will point out at this point in the story (because it's important to the story) that I was kind of "fluffy" going into college. Depression has a way of doing that. I think I may have only been about 20-30 pounds lighter than I am now, maybe not even that much. And I had put on my "Freshman 15" already. (It's important to mention here that I look back at pictures of myself at that age, in our little outfits, and think, "I was beautiful (even with a little fluff)." After all, this was half a lifetime ago.)

I remember the conversation like it was yesterday...

One of the guys in our group and I were hanging out, talking and stuff. Like I said, we were all pretty close. We spent every day, and every weekend together, so when he asked me if he could tell me something honestly, I said yes. I believe his words went something like, "The other guys and I talk about you a lot, and we all think you'd be a great wife and mother. I think you're going to be great at it. You're so perfect for it. And you're face is so pretty. Really, it is, but it's just the rest of you is...not as much. We think you're so great. It's just that one thing, I think, that holds any of us back from dating you."

Lightbulb moment: PEOPLE SAY STUPID THINGS!

So, there I was, completely like, "Um, okay" speechless (because, what do you say to that?). I believe I said something graceful like, "Thank you for being honest with me" or some crap like that. Honest words from a friend...and they felt like a thousand arrows pointed at the same target. All grace aside, it was a stupid thing to say.

Here's the thing. Even things done in truth and honesty can crush a person. I've done it. In my teens and early twenties I was all hopped up on Jesus-juice and thought I could just go out and preach to people and rid them of their sinful ways. I crushed them. I crushed their spirits. Even in my writing...I bet I've done it. I hope that wisdom and maturity have kicked in enough, and through my experiences I have managed to show compassion when needed, but I am human too. I bet I've crushed people with my words, even recently.

It happens. It wasn't ill-intentioned. This guy was after all, was being honest, and in his mind trying to help me out as a friend. He might have even thought it should be flattering to me that they talked about me in this way. (You know...because I'd be a great wife and mother and all.) Sometimes truth and honesty ain't all it's cracked up to be. Once words leave our mouths, they enter unfiltered territory. They fall on ears, attached to a body and a heart that has wounds, and weak spots, and baggage.

Because I'm a Christian, I believe in powers unseen. I believe in Truth and Love as God, and I believe in lies and deceit as my Enemy. We'll call him Satan. Did you know Christians can be used by Satan? NO FREAKIN" WAY!! Yes way. We should really pay more attention to this possibility. It would really help a lot of issues. Anyway, I like to think of the Garden of Eden situation (yeah, that place) as a primo example of how Satan works. Like a snake, slithering his way into our minds and hearts, convincing us of things that aren't true. Maybe they're half-truths, maybe just flat out lies, but he plays on our insecurities and our lack of trust and understanding of God, to plant a seed of doubt. And yes, I mean us women.

Thanks Eve, for the many curses upon our sex. Much appreciated. One of the biggest things we women struggle with is our self-worth. We're craving answers to this hole in our hearts. We want validation, confirmation, and affirmation in the worst way. Sometimes we develop very unhealthy ways of trying to get these things. I'm not saying men don't struggle with this too. There's just something about this that's a little different, maybe a little more defining and powerful, for a woman. What am I worth? What am I worth to you?

These questions start straight off, and in the most healthy way, we get our first human validation of our worth from our parents and family. They are our little world, and they are the ones that fill us with knowledge and understanding of who we are, and who we are in relation to everything and everyone else around us. But even the most healthy situation is not void of snaky influence. A full, undamaged, pure and loving heart is a threat to lies and deceit. Even our enemy sees our value.

Half-truths, small deceptions, insecure thoughts, negative comments, negative images, abuse, bullying, mean girls, jealous moms, withdrawn dads, etc, etc, etc. It starts out so small, but the arrows keep coming, and a wound that was the size of a small pinhole, gets larger and larger with each arrow hitting it's center, until it is a gaping wound looking for healing.

This giant arrow that hit my heart in college had perfect aim. A wound was already there, but this honest conversation caused years of pain. Obviously, if I can remember the conversation almost 19 years later.

Christians like to throw a blanket fix (sometimes) over wounds like this. Like that my value is in Christ. Does my head know that? Absolutely. Does my heart know that? Not always.

Healing...

Healing has been a challenge. Remember, this is now a gaping wound. All the Bible studies in the world about it, didn't help it. Every guy from this conversation on has only affirmed these lies even more. "You'd be a great wife and mother, but..." "You have a beautiful face, but the rest of you not so much". It has helped me answer every question I have ever had about why I am still single. Truth.

When I turned 35 a couple of years ago, I think I was going through my midlife crisis. I was dreading this birthday. I still believe everyone has a birthday they dread. Mine was this one. It was all in my head, of course, but I was struggling with my expectations of myself at age 35. Why wasn't I further along in my life? Granted, I had a car accident/recovery that wasted almost 10 years of progression in life, but who cares about that. I was 35. All of my friends were done with school, married with children, and here I was. I quit school because of the accident. I wasn't married, and had no children. Why? Because I have a beautiful face, a beautiful soul, but the rest of me...not so much. I kid you not. This has been my response to myself all these years.

So, how does one get rid of that hurt, or even start to heal it? You have to go back to it, find the arrow, painfully remove it from your heart, and spend time administering the healing balm of Truth to it. It's not an insta-fix kind of thing, either. Then when you're done taking that one out, you find the others, one by one, and do the same thing. You find as many of them as you can, and are meant to find at this point in your life, and you do the hard work of grieving, removing, and replacing. In a nutshell. And oh, by the way, the arrows still come lookin', even if you've "healed" a part of you. They still come, looking for a place to land.

My value, ultimately, is not assigned to what others think of me. It's not assigned to how many Facebook likes I get on my writing, or my profile picture, or how many friends I have. If that's a way of measuring my value, then I will surely be crumbled. My value was placed the day I was created. My Maker designed all of me, and decided the world needed a Marci...just the way she is. He needed this soul to be this way, to look this way, to go through these things, and that thing (lots of things), and gifted her specifically, with things she would need to conquer life...gifted her with things that she could use to help others see God, so that they could do the same.

My point is this. We're going to "f" this up. We are human. Let's love each other well. I have gone back to this specific conversation in my mind, several times, to heal from it, and from the wounds preceding it. We need to do that too. They are lies. They are intentional lies. Lies meant to derail us from a life of love and hope. We can't live there. We must scrape up enough courage and hope to realize even the smallest value in ridding ourselves of the lies we carry, so that we can be free.

Free.

Our value, our healing, our revival...is threatening. But we have one fighting for us that is greater than all. He is fighting for us while our hearts lay in a pile of mush, our scars and our open wounds lay bare, and we cannot fight for ourselves. We are worth this much. This much.

Still practicing...