Category: Parenting

For Whom Do You Sing Harmony?

I adore singing in the choir. I have some of my most carefree moments of each week…goofing, laughing, singing, harmonizing and practicing with my fellow choir members…who just happen to be some of my closest friends.

I sing alto, as did my sweet little mama. She managed to teach me that I would love choir…or else. Ha!

During my early years in choir, she was my choir director. Let me just tell you, when your mama was the choir director…you sang in the choir. Needless to say, I can’t say I always had a passion for singing or harmony, but it is now as much a part of who I am as my skin color, eye color, hair color and my facial features. I LOVE TO SING.

But to say I love to sing, is not really the full picture of what I love about this topic. I do sing pretty much all day long…in between patients, on the way to church, in the shower, while I listen to music on the beach… I even have to school myself NOT to hum while I’m in a conversation with someone because it could be construed as inattentiveness to what is being said. I have it bad. Ha! But the truth of what I love about singing is the harmony.

When I sing to the radio, I’m full on harmonizing. I sing alto in the choir which is primarily harmony. I feel a little disappointed when the alto line has to sing the melody and the sopranos have to bust out the harmony.

Sidenote: I realized recently that Sopranos don’t typically like to sing harmony either…so music writers…stop that. Ha! On second thought, maybe you should keep doing that occasionally so we are forced out of our comfort zones more often. But that’s a whole other topic.

Google depicts harmony as a noun that is: 1- the combination of simultaneously sounded musical notes to produce chords and chord progressions that have a pleasing effect. 2- agreement or concord. Synonyms: accord, agreement, peace, peacefulness, amicability, friendship, fellowship, cooperation, understanding, unity, rapport, like-mindedness. Basically, in music, harmony is a note that compliments the main note, the melody.

As you have gotten to know me…you knew I wouldn’t be able to let this go, right? You knew I would have to take this a step further. I couldn’t just let the definition of harmony be the end, right? There are so many life lessons all wrapped up into this one little topic. (#deepthinkerprobs)

I think that in life, we have to be the harmony to our fellow man’s melody.

As a Social Worker, I must be the harmony to my patient’s melody as I work along side them as they make decisions. I absolutely can not be the melody for my patient or families. They are the melody. I am the harmony. I accompany them as they make decisions they will live with for the rest of their lives. They are the lead. I provide necessary accompaniment.

As a wife, I must be the harmony to my husband’s melody. In this day and age it is frowned upon to say this, but he has the task of leading and I have the task of accompanying him as he accomplishes that task. Do I always play perfect harmony with him? Like, a big hell no to that. He makes me angry and crazy and absolutely nuts at times and I purposely turn that harmony right into a ‘dissonant’ chord. (Fellow music folks, do you see what I did there? Ha!) But luckily, dissonant chords are a ‘thing’ also. When a dissonant chord resolves itself into beautiful harmony again, life is good, right? That means kissing, folks. And kissing is good, right? Ha!

Moving right along. As a mother, I must be the harmony to my children’s ambitions in life. They have so many decisions to make along the way. I can’t run their lives for them. As much as we want to stop them from making the same mistakes we made, they have to live their life on their own. We can educate…harmonize, if you will…but we have to let them be their own melody. At the end of the day, they are the ones who have to lie their head down on their own pillow at night and live with their own thoughts. Not us. We live with our own thoughts.

I should probably revisit my earlier comment “we have to be the harmony to our fellow man’s melody”. What does that really mean? If we are always the harmony for others, when do we get to be our own melody? Almost always would be the answer. If everyone learned to compliment other’s melodies, there would always be someone available to be your harmony as well.

“Your true character is most accurately measured by how you treat those who can do nothing for you.” – Mother Teresa

Just sipping some Vanilla Bean Crème Brûlée Coffee and thinking about puttin’ on a kitchen concert. Where’s my spatula mic??? I’m about to bust out some major harmony…whose gonna tackle the melody for me??? ~paula

When You Just Need a Minute

If there is anything that I’ve learned through this stupid grief journey is that sometimes I just need a minute. A minute to breathe, a minute to think about my sweet little mama, a minute to think about what things would be like if Cancer hadn’t reared it’s ugly head, a minute to think about all I wish I could tell her, a minute to just feel the pain, a minute to rip off the peel-n-stick smile I use daily and just cry.

Often lately, I’ve noticed that I wish I had the capability to wiggle my nose and instantly be on the beach for whatever time necessary to clear my head and then wiggle my nose to get me back home. I’m pretty sure I just had an epiphany while typing that sentence. It ain’t rocket science, move to the beach, Paula! (The beach is my most loved place on the earth because I think so clearly there…incase you didn’t know.)

But truly, there are a million instances during this thing called life that require us to regroup, reevaluate, redetermine who we are and who we want to be; you know, take a minute to “settle down” when something turns our world upside down.

So many things can manifest our own personal definition of “world upside down”. To one, the loss of a parent; to another, the loss of a job; an unexpected pregnancy; a car accident leaving one debilitated in some way; a house fire; a spousal affair. I could keep this list flowing for ten hours and still have more things to list. So many things have the ability to rock us to the core.

Why? Why are we so easily knocked on our behinds when things go wrong? I think we go along in life and constantly have these ideas and notions that are our own personal goals in life. We so easily let the words slip from our mouths that we want God’s will to be done, yet we keep making plans and arrangements on our own. We have ideas about what our lives should look like, what our kids’ lives should look like, how our neighbors’ lives should be looking. Goodness. For the most part, we can’t control anything and we just have to figure out how to deal with our new situation; even when it doesn’t fit into our well thought out plans.

I’m not saying that when bad things happen it’s because God wanted them to happen or He wanted us to have a less perfect life than we wanted to have, or even that He wanted to give us a wake up call. I’m just saying that this life isn’t ours. It is supposed to be His. He will not place you in situations that He doesn’t have the ability to walk you through.

When our children make decisions we hate. When our spouses make decisions we can’t tolerate. When things happen that are big, that you just can’t seem to accept, what are we to do?

The most simple thing to do is just take a minute to realize, the world hasn’t actually stopped turning. You are indeed still breathing. You do actually still have the ability to feel true joy, it just might be a minute before you can notice. There is very little in this life that is truly the end of the world.

When my sweet little Mama took her final breath, my heart stopped along with her’s. The problem was, mine started back again. For those few minutes directly afterward, my world was quite literally spinning out of control and I couldn’t catch my breath or have a coherent thought. I saw talking all around me but could only hear the screaming inside my head. I had held it together for so very long and the screaming inside my head was the tears and gut wrenching heart ache that had been waiting for the moment I would finally allow them out. The revelation came…I didn’t have to be strong anymore. When that realization hit my mind and soul, to say I absolutely lost my shit, is quite the understatement. I let a million loud, rushing tears go and it was not pretty to say the least. A solid year’s worth of withheld tears and despair flooded out of my weary and exhausted body. I could hold them back not a second more.

Who knows what all happened after that. Those immediate days following are such a blur to me now. I just know that I was surrounded by so much love and concern and tenderness from friends and family. I’m certain my little mama was orchestrating it all to make certain we were cared for during a time she tried so desperately to prepare us for, because she knew she couldn’t be there to physically help us herself.

What I do remember was the overwhelming need for time to stand still for just a minute. I NEEDED A MINUTE! And I was angry that no one was giving me that minute. I needed that minute to get my mind wrapped around what had occurred but there was no minute to be had. Time marched and I sort of just flowed with it. Had no choice.

But what I was being taught during that time was that there is an amazing God who was still on His throne, who kept His arms around me the whole time and never allowed me to slip under the currents for more than I needed to be under. He didn’t give me more than I could bear…with His help. THAT’s the key. He will not give us more than we can bear…with His help.

There is such a valid lesson in this for every aspect of life. Our kids don’t always choose for themselves the things that we want them to choose. They make downright stupid decisions sometimes; as do our spouses; as do we. Our spouses aren’t always capable of meeting the standard we think is required. Promotions at work don’t always happen when we think they should. Life gets messy! But God is always on His throne…no matter what rocked your little world to the core.

So take your minute when you need it. But don’t stay there. You have to get back to “keepin’ on”. You have to figure out how to keep moving and growing. I saw on a church sign one time, “If God brought you to it, He’ll bring you through it.” Right? Right.

Sipping coffee tonight and being so very thankful for parents who taught me that nothing that happens to make our life messy or troubled or rocked-to-the-core is the end of the world. Nothing. ~paula

We Can’t Continue the Madness.

I began writing this particular entry some time in April of this year but shelved it for a while. I pulled it back up tonight to review what I had written. How strange that I chose today to pull this particular rough draft up and read it when I had just had similar thoughts while driving around today. Fate? Possibly.

Incase you didn’t know, I’m an absolute SUCKER for a good romance novel. Once upon a time, in a land far far away, a younger version of myself would have only been caught reading trashy romances capable of sizzling your panties right off. Well, being the classy, reputable, upstanding, good Christian lady that I am, (stop laughing, all you folks that know I can still drop a cuss word faster than my, once Naval, husband) fast forward to present day, when I read only Christian romance…or at bare minimum, romance without as much juice. Did I mention I am an absolute SUCKER for a good romance?

Moving right along; I remember a particularly well written book by Francine Rivers, “And the Shofar Blew”. The fictional story of the struggles of Paul Hudson, a young pastor who had just taken on a new church and his wife Eunice, who tried to find common ground as her husband poured heart and soul into building God’s Kingdom…but oftentimes at the expense of marriage and family. One Sunday as my own pastor shared from the pulpit of removing some of the excess from our chaotic lives, I immediately thought of this book. As I sat and compared his sermon that day to what I remembered from the fictional Hudson’s, it seemed that you could be too busy, even doing what naturally seemed to be God’s business, to truly be working toward God’s business. Let that sink in. You could be too busy doing what naturally appeared to be God’s business to truly be working on God’s business.

Picture this…a young mom missing her baby girl’s t-ball games for the singles prayer group every Tuesday night and women’s ministry every Thursday night…a pastor constantly working late in his office on the next sermon while missing dinners with his wife who eats alone most nights…a deacon who constantly visits church members in the hospital but doesn’t have enough time to take his wife to her doctor appointments…a dad who teaches Sunday school, facilitates a small group and works on the ground crew but is unable to locate the time for family devotion and prayer with his wife and kids. Man, all sound like wonderful tasks that are very commendable, but when there is an expense to family or our own well-being, does it continue to be God-breathed? I’m leaning toward a negative.

Why do we keep up the church charade? Why do we feel like it’s better to keep up appearances than to truly live the Love of God, show the Love of God, share the Love of God or give the Love of God? If we are not showing this love to our family including church family and other humans in our paths, are our priorities correctly aligned? Again, I’m leaning toward a negative.

How do we get ourselves so loaded with so many things to do that we lose our focus on the why; our relationship with a God who loved us so deeply and without restraint that He sent His only Son to die for us, and to share the love of Christ with others so they can have that same relationship. I think we have such good intentions when we start our walk. Somehow we get overloaded and all of this service turns into struggle.

How can we keep from being overloaded with “service” in the church? It mostly happens so gradually we don’t see it coming, until one day we wake up and realize we don’t even have time to sit with God’s Word and just listen for that still, small voice. The voice we should long to hear.

Please don’t misconstrue what I’m sharing tonight. You can’t stop working in the church. Often a small handful are stuck doing many jobs because of the inactivity of others. If we all shared equally, things could be so much better. We can’t stop working, but we can make certain we have time for what are the only important things; time spent in God’s Word, time spent in prayer and time spent sharing our faith with others. I’m pretty certain time spent in prayer while actually listening to God’s voice and direction would provide the wisdom to know what services are for you and which are not.

I think my desire for less chaos has forced me to evaluate all areas of my life. My cluttered home, that I’m proud to say is slowly becoming less cluttered (still looks like hell because it often gets worse before it gets better, but I see improvements weekly, guest bedroom is next); my cluttered schedule, that still needs a good spring cleaning but has clearly shown mild improvement lately; and, my cluttered mind that often has too much to think about, but even that is regularly getting spruced up now thanks to Coffee with Paula.

What areas do you need to clear out, de-clutter? We can not continue the madness of busy, hectic, chaotic lifestyles and be about God’s business. We can not continue the madness of busy, hectic, chaotic lifestyles and raise healthy, well-adjusted children. We can not continue the madness of busy, hectic, chaotic lifestyles and maintain our own physical or mental well-being. We can not continue the madness of busy, hectic, chaotic lifestyles and maintain healthy relationships with children, family, spouses or friends.

Sipping coffee and wondering how I managed to combine panty sizzling romance novels, a minimalist lifestyle and our relationship with God all into one entry in this little spot I call my happy place…and hoping it encouraged some thoughts tonight. ~paula

I See You for what You are.

Dear Depression and Anxiety,

I truly despise you with every ounce of my being.

You steal joy and replace it with an empty, colorless void. You freely create disinterest where interest should be full. You cripple. You ostracize. You create a sense of hopelessness. You rob marriages of happiness. You steal parents from children. You make spouses lonely…even when they sit so close their hands are touching; lonely. You make co-workers see lazy when lazy is the farthest from the truth.

Most can’t see the two of you. Some see both of you; as vivid as if you were both entities of your own; living, breathing entities. Some see the symptoms you create but can only speculate as to the cause of those symptoms. Some see the absent friend, spouse or parent and assume they don’t care enough to show up to some special occasion or event. Because of you, negative thoughts and comments are exchanged such as “how could they miss this”. Even those that understand the why, can’t control the emotional response of anger and hurt from that missing family member or friend who just couldn’t make themselves leave the house that day…because of the two of you!

Depression and Anxiety, you are both truly disgusting and because of you, moments of intimacy for couples can be so few and far between they wonder if they ever had a sex life or what it would be like to actually have one again? Because of you, friendships are ruined by unanswered calls/texts and countless declined offers for lunches, movies, bowling, fishing, shopping. Because of you, jobs are lost when absences outweigh days present.

Depression, how revolting you are to me…you can make a person that is so full of love, willing to do some of the most seemingly selfish things…miss important events, leave bills for a spouse to deal with, not answer a call/text on purpose, not plan a spouse’s 40th birthday, miss family trips, leave children wondering why you missed their track meet, stop dying patients from spending precious time with family, stop adult children from attending their parent’s retirement dinner, make a spouse drink so many beers before bed on an anniversary night that they fall asleep in the recliner before any intimacy was shared. You’ve even made a parent miss their child’s baptism.

Anxiety, how revolting you are to me as well…you can make a person that is so full of love be grouchy and cranky and snippy toward the ones they love because you make them so worried about being worried that they are distracted with figuring out what the worry is, making them easily annoyed when approached with even the simplest of topics…because it adds more for them to think about. You also rob of restful sleep that could help them deal with you more effectively. Very low blow anxiety, very low blow. You sir, are no gentleman!

Just so you know, not that either of you care, but it must be said…Being married to a person with depression and anxiety can be the loneliest place in the universe. On the flip side of that, being married to a person who doesn’t have depression and anxiety, while you do, can also be the loneliest place in the universe.

Depression and Anxiety, you remind me of Satan. You sound like the biblical description of Satan. Let that sink in. You fit the Bible’s description of Satan. 1 Peter 5:8-9 …”the devil walks around like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour”. John 10:10…”the thief comes only to steal, to kill and to destroy”. Depression and Anxiety, you both walk around like roaring lions, seeking whom you may devour; you come to steal, kill and destroy…but I want you to know that I am on to your ways. I see you for what you are.

I attribute the growing suicide rate to you both! I firmly believe you are the demons who whisper to your victims that suicide is the only way to freedom and true peace. You lure your unsuspecting victims toward you with a siren’s song of peace and tranquility; straight into the clutches of your death talons! I see you for what you are.

What a loathsome duet you both create!

As a Social Worker, I’ve heard countless tales of your effects; day in and day out; countless tales. As a Social Worker, I feel helpless at times as the tricks of the trade I teach are only minimally effective. The medicines prescribed are also only minimally effective and come with side effects that are often more distressing than just dealing with the original problem; you two! I see you for what you are.

As of right now, Depression and Anxiety, you are winning the battle but you will not win the war! This letter needed to be written so as to leave no room for doubt as to my loathing your existence, as do countless others. I pray daily that the two of you go back to the depths of hell from whence you came…and one day you will. I see you for what you are.

Angry inside for the millions effected directly and indirectly; sipping coffee like Kermit, but mad. ~paula

He said ‘Our Girl’

As I intently stared at the dusty diamond covered with sweaty, fatigued warriors, while my flattened, aching behind shifted from side to side on cold metal bleachers; my husband of 25 years (26 when June arrives) texted my phone and asked the question “has our girl played”? This happens to be baby girl’s first Varsity season and she has had her share of paying bench dues this season. She had actually played some tonight but I couldn’t text back right away. I was stuck in time sitting there as I tried to get my heart to calm to a slower beat. He said our girl.

I finally answered his question and shared of her getting hit by the ball and taking a base, but I was quick to also tell him I liked how he said our girl. He was of course baffled at what I meant because men can sometimes be oblivious to things of the heart. (No offense guys, you just aren’t as mushy as us ladies and we’re okay with that, trust me!)

But it took me only one quarter of a second to formulate my answer. “It’s endearing toward me and toward her and it made me smile”.

Why did my mushy female heart see that as endearing? Well, the phrase our girl was indicative of a relationship that was loving enough to share babies but also indicative of the deep love between a daddy and his girl. He acknowledged all of that in its entirety with that one simple text.

Marriages that have held firm for 25 years, (or 2 for that matter) are guaranteed to have rocky patches, moments when feelings are no longer mushy or exciting and it becomes imperative that the focus be centered on making the choice to love rather than to rely on “feelings of love” that are untrustworthy and flighty.

There is often confusion over love being a noun or love being an action. If you consider love a noun, what does that make love? It makes love the warm fuzzies of a first kiss, butterflies when you remember a shared and heated embrace, the increased patter of your heart when you see your love walk in the room. How long can all of that possibly last? This person you’ve vowed to love, burps and farts…sometimes at the same time; has morning breath; eats garlic bread; pisses you off; let’s you down; gets toothpaste all over the sink; forgets to start the dishwasher; doesn’t notice your new hair cut and accidentally on purpose forgets that you really wanted to see that new movie at the theatre. How can the warm fuzzies continue after all that?

It’s simple. They can’t; they won’t and you newly weds and young adults who are about to enter into wedded bliss, don’t need to think they will.

But when you view love as a choice, the possibility of this thing called marriage making it for the long haul, increases tremendously. Choosing to love this person that you vowed to love is the bare minimum of what is required. Choosing to keep on keeping on; even when things are less than stellar, don’t smell as sweet as you remember and emotions trick you into believing what isn’t real. Keep on keeping on.

The warm fuzzies aren’t gone for ever. They simply come and go for seasons. I certainly wasn’t looking for warm fuzzies tonight after 25 years of marriage, the last 3 of those filled with enormous struggles; but I received one. My husband; who can be into his own world, his own things, his own to-do list, his own struggles; had a moment when he thought of me as his and wanted to know everything was right with our girl.

Smiling as I plan to partake from a fresh pot of coffee after these beautiful warriors are done defending their diamond; choosing to wait for the next warm fuzzy; ain’t giving up. ~paula

They will Never Forget

Branch Ed, short for Branch Education, is provided monthly at my place of employment. We sit through anywhere from one to two hours of necessary information that must be conveyed for us to continue doing what we do. (Effective and efficient is the name of the healthcare game.) A portion of this education can involve being given audit scores so that we have an idea where we rank against our previous scores as well as against other home health and hospice agencies; super important in the health care world. But for one specific meeting, my former Branch Director began stating that we have the best Social Worker in the entire company and we don’t know what we would do without her, her documentation is relevant and she always strives to do the best for our patients. Now, understand, I’m the only social worker in the building and I’m still sitting there wondering who she’s talking about. She can’t be talking about me, I was currently like fifteen charts behind on documentation (not really) but struggling to maintain my head above water. Once I realized that it was for certain me that she was talking about, the room erupted into applause as my cheeks warmed to a rosy blush and tears formed in my eyes. That room was giving me support and love and applause. And honestly, I would do anything for them as do I for our patients. But in that specific moment in time, all I could think was that I want to do my best for these people, my work family, my friends, my partners in crime. All I could think about was “what areas could I improve so that I will never let these people down”? Funny. I actually wanted to seek out my own flaws and fix them!

This made me start thinking. Let’s scroll back a few years to a previous employer. I never heard from my supervisor unless something was a mess. Never a word of thanks on a job well done, never a kind word when days were tough, never a feeling of “belonging” or of being valued as a team member. Let one audit score be slightly lower than a previous month and a meeting with the supervisor and their supervisor was conducted wanting to know what was the plan put in place as to improving said score. No discussion of the previous day staying with a family for four hours while they coped with the pending loss of their mom, teaching them how to comfort and show support to a mama that had loved and care for them their whole life, teaching them to say goodbye in an appropriate manner. No discussion of the hard work put into a recent abuse and neglect case where DHR was involved; where myself and the DHR case worker were in court by that afternoon due to some fancy footwork to insure our patient was removed and placed into a safe environment. Nothing but grief over the lowered audit scores. After leaving that employer for greener pastures I did some soul searching. What made me leave? The exhausting business of constant self validation. I constantly had to defend my actions, my documentation, my skills. I was constantly on the defensive defending my every move. Never once did I say to myself what are my flaws and how can I make them better? I never actually wanted to do better for them. I was too busy being on the defensive about what I thought was right.

What is the difference in these two scenarios? I’m human, so in both situations, there were certainly things that needed fixing on my end. But the difference was how I viewed myself in either situation. I was made to want to do better by a Branch Director who knew to provide encouragement.

While researching this particular topic, I came upon an article by Vicki Hoefle, The Difference Between Praise and Encouragement. Vicki Hoefle is a parent educator, author, speaker and coach and when I read her article…on went the light bulb! Such wonderful information and so spot on. She explains that “praise focuses on perfection rather than progress and improvement; a right or wrong outcome rather than a meaningful experience; good or bad decisions rather than the decision-making process; pride or disappointment rather than acceptance and support.” Man, did I say this was spot on?

How does this relate to us in our everyday life? Well, relationships in parenting and coaching and supervising and spouses and friends and the guy at the “parts house” (as my husband calls it)…should I go on? How we talk to and approach every single person in this life matters. It brings to mind the phrase “fair weather friend”. As long as things are going well, those fair weather friends or parents or coaches or spouses or supervisors are, as my sweet Mom would have said, “hunky dory”; but, when things are more difficult, when there’s not a word of praise that can be uttered because there is no perfection to be found…then what? Then what.

“They may not remember what you said – but they will never forget how you made them feel. ~ Carl W. Buehner

Man, that was a refreshing cup today! ~paula