BFC #10

I hit the motherload – I have enough bedroom food for almost a year…. I only spent 5.13 (Thanks to Target Easter sale- 90% off).

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Confession – I am a bit nervous the boys will find- too much to fit in my “special box”.

DOn’t understand what I mean by bedroom food…. catch up here Bedroom Food Confession #1

BFC #9

Bedroom Food Confession # 9

I teach high school. My white board marker tray is metal and has a sharp corner. During transition – in the hustle bustle, I turned too quickly and caught the back of my pants. I had a small hole in my back end area.  What you also should know is that my pants are black and my under-roos were a bright pink. 

Confession:  I fixed covered hole, in faculty bathroom with electrical tape. When I walked out with the electrical tape, another adult was waiting and looked at me sideways. I responded – had a small project. Smiled and walked away. 

For the Love… of Growth

You know when I was a beginning teacher- I knew I had to improve in my brain. But, in my heart I thought I was the next best thing next to sliced bread. Now, years upon years later, I lay awake, sleepless some nights, tossing and turning, because I feel like I am not good enough. The truth is- I have grown exponentially since year one. I am so much better now then I was then. The more I hone in on my craft, the farther I feel I am from the finish line.

On my morning drive I realized- this is how I feel in my faith walk.Years ago- I thought I was a great, not perfect, but great Christian women. My faith walk has endured storms, attacks, lulls, and I have been tested and tested over and over. I am so much closer to the Lord, my relationship has grown so much. Yet, I feel so much farther from the finish line. Funny how real growth, from a seed into a baby plant – growth out of the darkness (dirt), actually makes you realize how much more distance you have to get to the clouds.

BFC #8

Bedroom Food Confession 8

Confession:  I struggle finding balance in my work life, family life, and bible study. I crave more time to study and dive into his word. I am happy with the increased family time- and even though it is God guided – I crave more time in the word. 

Question: Have you found any form of balance in this area? Once you fall in love with the word- do you ever really stop craving more? What are your thoughts and/or questions in this area?

Feel like you are missing something … Wondering what is bedroom food… See this post Bedroom Food Confession #1

 

For the Love … of Tears

Crying in church. Every. Time.

I have an aunt that cries all the time. I love her – she is more than an aunt. She is my sister, friend, spiritual guide, aunt, therapist, and the list goes on. Crying comes natural and from my perspective easy.

I am not that person. I don’t cry. I just don’t. It isn’t that I choose to not cry- I have days I want the tears to be released and just flow. Just maybe that will solve the current struggle.

In the past year, however, I cry at church. Every. Time.  This was worrisome to a degree. Now,  I know it shouldn’t cause great concern, but it did. As simple as that- it did. I would have a great Sunday morning and walk into church willing myself, convincing myself that I had absolutely no reason to cry. I am so very blessed. I would leave the service with watered down eyes.

Ecclesiastes 3:4 (NIV) a time to week and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance … a time to tear and a time to mend…

My story of storms in the recent year(s), honestly, left me utterly broken. Fallen, unable to get up, unable to do basic daily life… but blessed because I feel at his feet. What a great landing place. As I redefined my life, with my new scars and embracing some new flaws. I am a child of God – and the scars from the storm – really have hit home in my heart – with because  of my scars and flaws- how much grace, love, guidance, understanding has been poured over me by God daily. I don’t mourn every Sunday. My eyes well up, my voice cracks complete overwhelmed by this realization. He did restore what I thought I lost. He drew me near. He ran to me. When I couldn’t fly- he carried me up the mountain. He listened to my cries, my prayers, my unspoken pleas- he gave me peace in a storm- that couldn’t have produced peace. He gave me strength. He loved me. He loves me. The unmeasurable gratitude that fills my spirit- I redeclare my love for him. I redeclare my desire to forever be his. To forever love him. To feel that, especially in his house – brings on the tears.

For. The. Love. Of Tears – Every thankful Sunday … and quite a few days in between.