Tag Archives: dreams

Because I am ready for a change…

A dear friend of mine once summed up a million thoughts I had about being a woman, wife and mom…and we were talking about bras!

She said, “For years I’ve shopped at Wal-Mart for my bras. At checkout, I’d throw the huge bag of dog food on the belt and slap a bra off the rack on top of it–until one day I took the time to have a clothing professional fit me properly. I was wearing bras that were two sizes too small! No wonder the bras I wore were so uncomfortable. They didn’t fit!”

Her word picture is my life.

Fill in bra with so many aspects of who I am and how I think about myself and it’s cause for a serious pause.

Drug store make-up, less-than exciting clothes, home hair dye, and naked nails reveal two things about me: I know what needs some attention on my body, but I don’t think I’m worth enough to really try to change it.

The nails? Well, that’s just personal preference. I wash my hands way too much throughout the day and simply can’t stand the feeling of nail polish.

I’ve always thought of my body as a tool for my mind. Each day I wake up and my brain tells my body what to do, whether it feels like it or not.

I’ve pushed my body through illnesses, surgeries and hardships, silencing anything it was trying to tell me. Over the years this lifestyle landed me with mono, anxiety attacks, heart palpitations, the nervous habit of chewing my cheeks, and perpetual physical exhaustion, just to name a few.

This life led me to feeling like I didn’t fit into my own skin, so to speak, much like my friend who didn’t fit into her bras.

Neither of us knew there could be a better way until that way intersected our lives.

Why have I chosen to be a Rodan + Fields consultant? Tomboy, generic shopper, bottom-of-the-totem-pole person that I am?

Because one change can lead to many.

A precious friend of mine often posts on Facebook about her own health journey to lose weight, “It’s about small changes. What will be yours today?”

I did not realize how I treated my body had become so routinely neglectful, and that routine thinking led to a downward spiral of how I felt physically, my perspective, my confidence, etc. It is all connected–mind, body and soul.

The day that changed how I thought about how I treat my body was when the dermatologist called and told me the biopsy came back as squamous skin carcinoma–skin cancer.

This biopsy wasn’t my first rodeo. I’ve had several early-stage or suspicious spots removed, including basal cell carcinoma, but I couldn’t outrun this one. My heart sank.

All those years of skipping sunscreen for more time for playing, working and resting under the Florida sun caught up to me. That phone call was like my body telling my mind to sit down and listen, for once.

Especially because my father and grandfather had skin cancer.

I did, but I didn’t know what else to do except to always wear sunscreen. As for all of those decades of sunburns? I thought all I could do was prevent more damage and accept the damage that had been done (and cover it with make-up).

When small children point to my arms and ask what’s all over them (a.k.a. sun damage), I am embarrassed. I hate having my photo taken without at least some bronzer on to help blend the dark spots on my face.

I scan through photos of me and hit delete twenty times for every one I may reluctantly keep, despite the requests of my family to stop deleting. I don’t like the message this sends my teenage daughter at all because guess who now deletes her own photos?

Rodan + Fields is a cheerleader for life as much as, if not more than, for skin. The opportunity to work with this company is coincidental timing as so many changes are happening our family right now.

So I stand at the mirror and look at myself and think, “I don’t want more change. I need normal. Predictable. Stable.” I look at the R+F products and exhale a heavy sigh and think,”Does this have to change now, too? I kind of like my old stuff. Can I handle adding being a consultant to my plate right now?”

But, as much as I like the ease of the same-old products I used, and the same-old routine I had using them, they also produced the same-old results.

Another way to acclimate to change is to roll with it. Thinking, “Well, why not! Everything else is changing so why not this, too! What’s one more thing?” This actually lifts my spirit because in a season of new, it’s one less thing I’m trying to hang onto from the old.

Both of my friends have seen big results with their small changes from losing a ton of weight to finding a healthier, more comfortable way to live her 24/7. They are such an encouragement and inspiration to take care of our bodies! I am curious as to what can result from a small change such as changing my skincare and sharing it with others who are interested.

Rodan + Fields is more about the journey than a sale, as well as all of the ways a life can be lived resulting from healthier skin and a happier person stepping out to realize goals and dreams by sharing these opportunities with others.

I am the LAST person on the planet to sell something. It’s just not my passion. But, teaming together to begin a journey that can lead to self-discovery, healthier skin, enlarging community, and doing good for others with its success, now that gets me excited!

So I am going to give it a go.

Am I nervous? Yes. Open-minded? Yes. Ready for a change in what I call my “giraffe spots?” Yes! Ready to help my husband, who has faithfully provided for our family for 25 years, realize his God-given passions through new opportunities by me sharing the financial load? Absolutely yes!

If you’re ready for a change in your skincare, are curious about the financial opportunities with Rodan + Fields, or just want check out the products, please visit my website here. Thanks! 🙂

 

Like a dog

 

 

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Our dog is my fourth child. Dog lovers know what I mean. She curled up into my heart as much as she curls up in my lap. She is such a joy. Recently, she injured herself and we have no idea how. One minute she was fine, running around and playing with her favorite toys. The next minute she had her right hind leg pulled up and was hopping on the other three legs.

What?

When she tries to walk on her leg, it looks as if someone took a Barbie doll, removed the leg and put it on backwards. She won’t bend the knee and the leg looks dislocated.

We took her to the vet and he determined it is muscular – either a pulled or strained ligament or muscle. I am relieved it’s not something worse, but it is so sad to see her struggle around the house on her peg leg. His prescription is two weeks rest and daily puppy ibuprofen.

She is our family’s dog, but truly is my shadow. She follows me everywhere – and I mean everywhere. If I leave my desk for a glass of water, here she comes. If I go to the bathroom, she’s right there (whether I like it or not). She follows me upstairs, to the mailbox, in the backyard, and all over the house.

She picks her resting spots determined by where I will be. She has a bed under my desk, sleeps in a chair in our bedroom, and has a pillow strategically placed on the floor in our family room where she can see me in three rooms at once. She stands beside me while I do the laundry and rides with me in the car.

Right now, however, things are different. She is slow. She is in pain. After lying down for a while, her leg becomes so stiff it juts out to the side. It’s pitiful.

We encourage her to keep her leg flexible, but dogs simply don’t understand why they shouldn’t run, jump and play when hurt. We carry her outside to go to the bathroom so she doesn’t have to navigate steps. We carry her to her food bowl. We carry her upstairs. We lift her up and down from the chair. Why? Because she needs help doing the things in life that need doing.

Sometimes, I need to leave the room for just a second. I look at her and say, “Stay. I’m coming right back.” And I really am coming right back. I pass by her only to hear her limping behind me. I turn and tell her, “Please. You don’t have to do this. I’m coming right back.”

Her stubborn love for me will have it no other way. She follows me no matter how much it hurts.

Although her body may be in pain, and is holding her back from her active life, her will hasn’t budged an inch. I’ve been thinking a lot about her tenaciousness toward following me and think about what this looks like in my relationship with my Father in heaven.

When our hearts are broken, our plans ruined, or we’re too tired to move an inch, how do we respond to God?

I can throw a big ol’ pity party with the best of them and am quite good at it. I can also get mad. So mad my jaw clenches shut and I give the world the silent treatment. But does the tough stuff in life have to separate us from God?

We already know that nothing can separate God from us. Romans 8:38-39 –

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

But like a chess game, we can move farther from Him if we let ourselves. That’s called free will. And, it doesn’t have to be tough stuff. It can be an abundance of good things. Take the wealthy man Jesus had a conversation with in Mark 10:17-22 –

As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. “Good teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, you shall not defraud, honor your father and mother.’” “Teacher,” he declared, “all these I have kept since I was a boy.” Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” At this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth.

Or how about the blessing of family? Luke describes two conversations Jesus had –

He said to another man, “Follow me.” But he replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.” Jesus replied, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.” Luke 9:59-62 

Both passages could be discussed at great length. My purpose for including them is, do we look for excuses not to follow Christ when it’s not convenient or is unappealing or uncomfortable? Do we struggle letting go of what we think is ours to have open hands for what’s His?

My entire life I have dodged-and-weaved God’s commission in one way or another. It wasn’t the right time. I had dreams to pursue. I had an agenda for life. The work seemed too big. Too small. I didn’t want to let go of things, tangible and intangible, that I was afraid He’d ask me to give up.

I took the bigger picture He was painting and framed it in a frame three sizes too small because I couldn’t see His vision.

On the more intimate side, I skirted His pursuit of me. I was used to not trusting people. Anyone. I had such a low self-image you’d have to lift your shoe to find it. I didn’t think I was worthy or worth it.

All these years, I missed the obvious. God wants fellowship with us because He loves us. Wholly and completely and unconditionally. He wants to do life with us. What would it look like if we loved Him the same way?

I’d look like my little dog who thinks I walk on water. She just wants to be with me. Nothing else matters. She simply longs to go where I go and be a part of what I am doing.

Oh that I could have a heart like that for my Savior, who really did walk on water. To be content resting at His feet; walking in His shadow; involved in what’s important to Him. Content to just be with Him because His presence is enough.

My quirky little dog is an inspiration to me. I am reminded, as I carry her through the necessary parts of the day as she heals, that God, too, will carry me by either buffering me through a situation or equipping me for it. However, even with the injury she will not be deterred. She will follow me anyway – on three or four legs, limping or not.

So what’s causing our limp today? What have we been using as a shield, an excuse? Will we willingly follow Him even when it hurts? Can we lay down our baggage so we can pick up our cross and follow Him?

And (Jesus) said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” Luke 9:23-24

I felt some of that today and, to my surprise, more than the hurt I felt His hand on me, welcoming me as His sojourner. Whatever it costs – He is worth it and His presence is the jewel in the journey.

His stubborn love for us will have it no other way.