My Joyful Mysteries, and A Revolution of Real

I don’t always have the right words. I sometimes stumble and the first time I say something it comes out too cut and dry, especially on texts. I suck when there’s no pauses or inflections. I usually take more time when I write, because I know that words can leave a lasting effect…and stay much longer than expected. 

Like a song that can define an entire period of your life. Like a poem that makes your heart dip, and you think…that is my life. 

So every time I write, I pray that whatever I write is not filled with the awkward flaws of my words. It doesn’t mean I won’t speak the truth, or spell the real…but it does mean that I am reaching for God with each word I type. That I am praying for the Holy Spirit to write for me. 

“Don’t Settle.”

Yesterday as I climbed a long flight of stairs with my daughter, we stepped over broken stairs and rickety worn wood. When we reached the top- our feet were still caked with fine sand and we stopped as she picked little yellow beach flowers. 

And in that tremendous quick fashion in which the brain and the spirit work I thought of two words…that someday I will share with her. 

“Don’t Settle.” 

Don’t settle for less than true love. Don’t settle because it’s comfortable. Don’t settle because it’s what you think you should do. Don’t settle for right now. 

Don’t settle for the superficial. Don’t settle for the ones who only like how you look. Don’t settle for the ones who only hang out with you because of who you know. Don’t settle for the temporary fix. 

Don’t settle for the inbetweens. Wait it out. Even if you’re lonely. Especially if you’re lonely. Because then you will reach for something so much greater than anything you’ve dreamed. In the most lonely moments we realize we are much stronger than we ever imagined and how much bigger Gods love is than the inbetweens. 

Don’t settle because you may get hurt. Don’t settle because you may not know what you want…and you may eventually want this. When you know, You Know, YOU KNOW. Don’t settle when it’s a maybe or a probably. 

If you love God- don’t settle for someone who doesn’t want to know Him. Ever.

If you want Kids- don’t settle for someone who doesn’t love them. Ever.

Don’t ever settle for a mean boy. Or a cheater. Or a pumpkin eater. Because you are worth more. And also your Dad and brothers will always be watching…they won’t let you settle. 

Don’t settle for the attraction, go beyond that…reach for someone who will dab your cesarean section incision dry- someone who will hold your hand at church and pray over you when you’ve had a nightmare. 

Don’t settle in friendship just because you have a history or you know each other well. Don’t settle into toxic familiarity. Be a good friend- and walk away when someone is not. 

Don’t settle for gossip, or reality TV drama. Read a book that will make you weep until you sleep, and dance to every kind of music. Don’t settle to have the only thing you look forward to be a sports season, or some team…because teams change every year and if you only like one team you forget how fun the game is. 

Speaking of sports…Don’t settle for one sport. Play many. Be really bad at some. And don’t be afraid of losing. As long as you’re trying you are winning. Find something that makes you happy no matter what the outcome is. Don’t bank your future on how much you win, but on who you are. 

Don’t settle into anything that takes you from who God is calling you to be…there will be a lot. But embrace the real way your body changes and settles. Love the face you were born with, and let it age. Smile a lot so you have laugh lines. Don’t worry how you look in pictures when you’re laughing…just laugh. 

Don’t settle to be someone else, be yourself. You were born and created by an amazing God– and you are amazing. Don’t settle to be the same, stand out and be different. Dance when you’re in line, sing when it’s quiet, and be yourself. 

Don’t settle for wishes on a star, learn to pray. Kneel and talk to God. Give your worries and life to God, and dream big. Dream of a life that’s more about who you are, than what you have.

Because one day you may be walking up the stairs with your little girl. The little girl you waited your whole life to meet, and she stops and makes you pick flowers. And your entire life beats across your eyes…

 And you realize that the boy you first loved- who broke your heart did you a favor…because  you would have settled, and he never believed in your smile, never let you sing louder than Paul Simon…and you would have never met the boy with the laughing eyes. The boy who would become your only true love- who would challenge and love every single part of you. Who would kneel next to you on the good and the dark days, and asks you when he washes your feet and asks to marry you, if he can “serve” you the rest of his life…this boy will become your hero and be your best friend. And you will have beautiful babies, who grow and become better than any children you ever could have hoped to know.  And if you’d settled you wouldn’t know this beautiful and messy blessed life. 

You wouldn’t…have all of this. 

You wouldn’t have her. 

Don’t settle. Ever.

Because this…all of it, is so worth it.

Today my real is asking you to join me in prayer for some people I love…some are grieving, some are remembering, and some are waiting. Please join me in prayer…for hope, for healing, for miracles. 

To God be the Glory.  

“When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote “happy.” They said I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.” -John Lennon.

  
That quote is Casey’s favorite. He’s my favorite oldest nephew. 

Today was a gift.

   
Because we are choosing joy. Together. 

We are clinging to little moments.
   
We are facing the waves.

 And it is beautiful…just like the seal so close to us. 

 
Every day is a gift. And so is family. 

“Do not fear I will, I will help you…” Isaiah 41:13

It’s a magical place to take swim lessons. When you walk through and close the gate it’s like going back in time. The sun is bright. It’s not crowded. There are old white lawn chairs and big white umbrellas. The life guards sit high and watches everything. And the swim instructors teach little small classes. Everyone seems happy.

We have taken lessons there every summer since I was pregnant with Grace. 

Except for last summer. 

This summer we signed up and got there early. As the chain link fence clanged shut and my flip flops barely touched the hot cement they started calling all our names. They remembered the kids, even Jonah who has long since graduated from swim lessons. They asked the kids about school, remember little details. So familiar and safe. 

It was like coming home. 

My 11 year old has always excelled at everything ahletically…but swimming hasn’t come naturally. Every summer he was told the few things he needed to do- and every summer he fought going to lessons. The instructors said one day it would click. He has the technique. He has the cardio strength. But there was something stopping him. While the other kids would jump and splash- he would stand back and think before he got in.

Until this year…this year he jumped right in. After the first class they told me he could graduate to the most advanced class. After the second week they asked him to join their summer swim team. Whatever it was clicked.

And it has reminded me how matter where we are at, or whatever we are scared of…if we keep trying, if we keep getting out there – even when we wait a little longer to jump in, even if that means we have to hold our breathe a minute and exhale every ounce of fear and just fake brave…we just need one day. One day, it clicks. One day it all comes together. And sometimes we have to wait for it. 

I asked him what was different this year- and he said he trusted God would give him strength. How often do we forget to trust the source of all our Brave? How often do we place our pounding hearts into our fears, rather than the One who calms them. 

As I watched him run and leap, and jump off the diving board his face was so Free. 

He knows the Lord, his God.

He knows the Lord, our God.

It’s a faith he jumps towards. 

It’s the best kind of brave.

It’s the best kind of trust. 

It’s the best kind of coming home.  

Micah has one goal this summer. 

To watch Goonies every single day. He only watches about 15 minutes a day, but he watches it…over and over again. 

So in light of my Micah…here are some examples of some of your favorite movies and quotes you love. 

  
“As you wish.” 

“She’s gone. She gave me a pen. I gave her my heart, and she game me a Pen.” 

“You’re everything I never knew I always wanted.” 

“Say what again! I dare you…I double dare you!” 

“Do or do not, there is no try.” 

“You can’t Handle the Truth!” 

 “I’m watching you Wozowski…always watching you…” 

   
 
“That’s what she said.” 

 “Party On Wayne! Party on Garth!” 

 
  
“Show Me the Money!!!”

  
“That’s SO fetch!” 

  
“We’re not in Kansas anymore!” 

“There’s No place like home.” 

   
 
  
You all are real. And you all have great taste in movies. Thank you for sharing some of your Wednesday with me. You make me so happy! 

And my Micah makes me so very happy. 

“You must be thinking…is this a Noxema commercial or what? But seriously I have a way normal life.” 

   “Goonies never say die.” 

I didn’t want to write today.

Because I was afraid I wouldn’t give God the proper glory. Because I was afraid that maybe He made a mistake in asking me to write about real stuff and maybe that he was too trusting of me.

Because I have big huge levels of insecure and inadequacy running through my veins today. I got some sad news. I heard some bad news. And I am exhausted. None of those things are a good combination for hope…but then I heard from my friend Brendan.

My first friends in the world were my siblings, but my first EVER friend was my friend Brendan. We met in Kindergarten in Havre Montana, and I was smitten with him. I remember once when we rode the bus and he sat on his sisters lap and pulled on her tights until they had a big hole, and I thought he was the boy of my dreams. My siblings made me call him on the phone…we were in first grade then and didn’t go to the same school. But he said he couldn’t talk long because he needed to watch Transformers. I couldn’t even hear him say goodbye over my brother laughing. I didn’t know much about love, but I knew one thing; I loved Brendan.

And then I moved away. I got his address and sent him a letter.

In second grade we became pen pals. We wrote faithfully for the next 11 years. We talked on the phone a couple times a year. We would meet up every few years. I watched him swim in swim meets when he’d swim at meets in Billings. We’d talk about everything and nothing, and we were friends. The real kind of friends who don’t do small talk, we were always completely ourselves with each other- we talked about our fears about siblings, about being grounded, I told him I was worried about my Dad’s health. The last time we got together he was in Billings for work and I was visiting my Dad. We drove around in his truck for hours. We were 18 and had our entire lives in front of us. We sang Dave Matthew’s, wore our matching hemp necklaces, and laughed for hours. We were so young and had so much life to live…

And then we lost touch.

We both had lives happen. Love, relationships. I got married and I had my kids. He had his beautiful daughter Marley. We didn’t speak for years as our lives twisted and turned and changed. We both went through big seasons and one day after I had been thinking about him off and on for months I searched on FB and there he was…

I wrote him a message and asked. “Is this You?”

And he replied, “Is this YOU?”

And there we were again.

Life has been good, but life has also given us stuff to deal with. BIG huge stuff…

You all know my stuff.

But Brendan…his was in the form of a diagnosis. ALS, Lou Gehrig’s…remember that ice water challenge everyone did and half the people had no idea what it was for…mine was for Brendan. My first real friend.

ALS is a wretched bitch. And has taken much of the things that gave Brendan independence. The kind of stuff we all take for granted. But even the most wretched bitches can’t steal a beautiful spirit. ALS has done nothing to his resilience.

My friend Brendan lives his life…

He is damn funny, even after being released from the hospital yesterday- his sense of humor intact.

And so is his sense of appreciation…he says everyday should be National Caregiver Day, he appreciates his wheelchair and beer, and was so appreciative that the nurses took him to look out the window and watch the Fireworks on the Fourth. He loves his family.

Back a while ago I wrote a post during a week where I was struggling in my own stuff and he sent me this…

Those words meant so much to me…not only because they were unexpected- but because even in his own life and seasons he is still such a good friend. A true friend.

He is so strong. So much stronger than he probably gives himself credit for. And because of his strength I know that no matter what kind of battle I’m facing Life is worth making count.

Even on the days I am exhausted and feel inadequate, those are the days I need to write the most. Because beautiful things can come out of the imperfect.

The past few days this Bible verse has continually been running through my head and resting on my heart…

“Therefore, so that I should not get above myself, I was given a thorn in the flesh, a messenger from Satan to batter me and prevent me from getting above myself.

About this, I have three times pleaded with the Lord that it might leave me; but he has answered me, ‘My grace is enough for you: for power is at full stretch in weakness.’ It is, then, about my weaknesses that I am happiest of all to boast, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me…

And that is why I am glad of weaknesses, insults, constraints, persecutions and distress for Christ’s sake. For it is when I am weak that I am strong.” -2 Corinthians 12:7-10

Those words:  power is at full stretch in weakness…are strong words. They are words of a warrior. And I am in awe of the Warriors that Fight every damn Day.

As I read these words again today, I thought of the Warriors in my life. They were the people I prayed for. They remind me to cling in hope…to hold tight to faith…and never ever give up.

Thank you Jesus for calling me to write the real. Even on the days where all I see are the imperfections. And thank you for the gift of life long friendships…the kind of friendships that remind us that true friends exist.

Thank you Brendan for never giving up. I am proud to call you friend. And as always My family promises to pray for you every single day. You and I, We still have so much life to live!

So much love my dear friend of 30 years…❤️

Today’s Homework. 

Pray- and Give Thanks…for YOUR life.

Love yourself and others BIG. 

And be a Rebel…in a society full of Haters of Religion and Doubters of the body-mind-spirit We are Blessed to Be In…LOVE Yourself.

Real love is a rebellious act…so Really LOVE.  

Don’t doubt His Love. To God be the Glory. 

maybe you woke up still feeling exhausted.

maybe you keep wondering why you don’t know what you’re going to do when you grow up. 

maybe your sink is filled with dishes, or maybe you wish you had someone to cook for. 

maybe you are near the end of vacation. 

maybe you haven’t had a real vacation in years.

maybe you were impatient and mean to someone you loved. 

maybe you said sorry for something you didn’t do. 

maybe you are in the place in life where you feel like you are in a room with stacks of china dishes and if you move even an inch they will all fall. 

maybe you kind of wish they would. 

maybe you are standing in a place with huge cathedral skies and openness as far as you can see and you still feel like something is missing. 

maybe you’re uncomfortable in your skin. 

maybe you’re undecided on too many things to count, but know one thing you will do today. 

maybe you’re still in your pajamas.

maybe you already went to church. 

And maybe you just need to hear that today is a new day…Sunday is the day the Lord has made- a day to think about the possibilities and a day to start again. 

maybe you won’t make any big decisions, but what if you do? 

maybe you don’t have all the answers, but what if you try? 

To find meaning, to find joy, and to live today…there is no maybe about Sunday. It is Sunday.  

A brand new week. A brand new day. 

Hello Sunday. 

“By Uniting We Stand, 

By Dividing We Fall.” -John Dickinson

   
   
One Nation Under God…4th of July. 

(Joyful Mysteries Note…my sister is a Wife, Mother, Writer, Student and Teacher…so when I asked her to write for my Friday Blog she was so gracious and said “Let me get this book to my agent, and finish the school year. When she sent me her post, I loved every word of it. I spent my entire childhood wanting to be exactly like my sister- she was organized, while I was messy- she was a good student, while I was distracted. She was naturally athletic, while I’m the kid they give the trophy to for trying. We married boys with the same name, and have loved and grieved, and can sit on the back porch sipping wine for hours.  She is one of the most kind people I know and when she puts her mind to something, she does it. We both love the 80’s and Bon Jovi, and I am so incredibly honored she wrote today’s post. I think we can all relate. Thank you Missy. I love you.)

  
Dear Missy,

 Looking back at my teen years, I tend to see myself as rather average. I wasn’t one of the beautiful blonde twins portrayed in the Sweet Valley High books I read, filled with outlandish drama, betrayal, and young love. I wasn’t a rebel or a rule breaker, nor was I the scholar or editor of the school newspaper. I wasn’t voted best eyes, dressed, or most likely to do anything. In fact, if I were to try and cast myself in “The Breakfast Club”, I wouldn’t relate to any of the stereotypes the five teens portrayed, aside from perhaps a female version of Emilio Estevez’s athlete, minus the bullying incident that landed him in detention. I wasn’t a princess, or a brain, or a criminal, or a basket case. I was, simply, me. And in a world before the internet, social media, cell phones, digital photos, text messaging, and YouTube, that was okay.

What would I tell my teen self? Is there a way to prepare her for the world that is to come? Probably not because even if I tried, she’d likely not believe it. I could, however, try to convince her that even when things seem overwhelming, they’ll turn out okay. I could also tell her to enjoy every moment of every day because before she knows it she’ll look back and wonder where the years have gone. Therefore, in the vein of the popular blog Dear Teen Me, http://dearteenme.com/, I’ll write a letter to that young girl from Montana. Maybe in doing so, I’ll rediscover the person I was, the girl who didn’t quite care if the dishes were done immediately following a meal and who only made her bed about once a week, the girl who at the time, didn’t appreciate the stars dotting the sky in her hometown, but would miss them every single day after saying goodbye and moving away.

If I close my eyes, I can still see that girl, the one I used to be walking through the halls of my high school, sporting Keds and stonewashed jeans. Would she recognize me sitting at her future home in a Mariner’s t-shirt and staring out at a cloudy Western Washington sky? Probably not, but here goes…

Dear Missy,

Okay, so here’s the thing…I know you tried to get rid of the Missy moniker when you started a new school freshman year to make yourself seem older, but it didn’t work because once everyone found out it was your nickname, it stuck. And that’s totally okay because it’s who you are and you’ll come to recognize that when the people who knew you growing up call you Melissa, it sounds foreign on their tongues, and you’ll kind of hate it because to them, you were always Missy, a name that somehow becomes familiar and comforting, like a warm blanket wrapped over your shoulders on a cold, winter night.

 You’ll live and breathe basketball in high school, but will never play on a team again. I know this thought makes you sad and that lump that grows in the base of your throat when you are about to cry is likely burning now, but you’ll be okay. I promise.

 Your heart will be broken your junior year and although you knew this relationship wouldn’t last, it will hurt worse than you ever imagined possible. Although you’ll find it hard to believe it wasn’t your fault and you’ll want to apologize and beg him to love you as much as you love him, don’t do it. He isn’t the one, and when you see him years later at a class reunion, you’ll hug him and feel genuinely happy to see him, but you won’t love him, nor will you regret dating him because he was an important part of your life. You will, however, regret lingering on the hurt and not giving other guys a chance the remainder of high school. Ditch that last shred of hope. Date the baseball player, tell the guy you’ve had a crush on since freshman year how you really feel. Take chances and don’t let past hurts hold you back.

Consequently, and further proving that some things are meant to be, you’ll fall in love in college. He’ll be the person who makes you laugh every single day and will be a great dad to your future children. He’ll be the dreamer while you’re the realist. He’ll be your best friend and before you know it, you’ll have survived two military deployments, infant colic, differing taste in movies, and will be preparing for your nineteenth wedding anniversary.
 

You’ll get to see Bon Jovi in concert, twice. This won’t entirely make up for the fact that you weren’t allowed to attend the Slippery When Wet concert because you were too young, but it will help. Although the disappointment of not being able to see Jon Bon Jovi fly though the air like in the “Livin on a Prayer” video will linger forever, much like the Aqua Net in an 80’s locker room.

 Tom Cruise will make you go, hmmm…but you’ll still secretly watch “Cocktail” whenever it’s on.

 You’ll be diagnosed with celiac disease. I know this makes no sense as you have no idea what it is right now, but all the aches and pains you experienced after diligently carb-loading before a big race will one day make sense.

 Spend more time with your family and don’t worry if you skip a night out with friends. You might not believe me now, but there will come a time when you’ll miss your family every single day and you won’t remember that party long ago that you just couldn’t miss.

 You’ll still cry when you’re embarrassed and you’ll get embarrassed when you cry. It’s a double-edged sword, really.

 The bangs. Where do I begin with the bangs? There is no need to take a butane curling iron camping so that your hair is styled in the mountains. Seriously. One day you’ll look back at pictures and even the fact that most other girls had the same curls and styled bangs that you did won’t cushion the blow that it was a really, truly awful waste of time and products. 

 George Clooney will become a really big deal, but you’ll still see him as the handy-man on “The Facts of Life.”

 You’ll never be an artist so don’t even bother with the stick figures. One day you’ll be a fairly decent writer, though, so keep at it.

 Speaking of writing, you’ll experience rejection. A lot of it. But the stories in your head will continue surfacing so to avoid becoming a habitual daydreamer, put the words onto paper and create a world others might find interesting.

 You’ll become a teacher who loves her job. I know, right? Shocked me too.

 There will be more “Star Wars” movies. You’ll still roll your eyes whenever Luke Skywalker whines and you’ll always secretly enjoy watching “SpaceBalls” more.

 You’ll look back at pictures and wish you were still that thin even though you know at the time you wanted to lose five pounds.

 You’ll enjoy a television show about zombies.

 In the future, you’ll experience loss. Some of these losses will be so personal and painful that even now, you won’t be able to write or talk about them. You’ll also be okay.

 You like to take care of others. You also like to be in charge. You’re not very good at delegating, although you’re working on it. Organization is kind of your thing. You hate clutter and become overwhelmed by excessive paperwork. You also hate dirty microwaves. And the smell of vanilla. You love chocolate and popcorn and to this day, detest the song, “Don’t Worry Be Happy.” You hold grudges, but eventually forgive because you finally realize how silly the grudge you’ve been holding onto is. You love traditions, wine, the mountains, your oldest and dearest friends, and your family. You’re an introvert who finds it hard to spark conversations with people you don’t know. Some people view you as standoffish because of that trait, but it’s just the way you are and that’s one reason you married an extrovert.

 You’ll never sing in public and are a pop culture junkie, although you’ll never really be a fan of Ferris Bueller or reality television, and you’ll always believe “Say Anything” is one of the greatest movies and love stories ever written.

 Don’t worry about what you perceive others to think about you. Try not to stress if you don’t get invited to a party. Stand up for your children and never forget to say “I love you” to those who matter the most.

 So, put down the curling iron and go live. You won’t regret it.

 Love,

Melissa

Melissa is a young adult writer, teacher, and mom of three. She loves books, coffee, 80’s movies, popcorn, chocolate, and is always on the lookout for the best gluten-free pizza. She’s represented by Marlene Stringer of The Stringer Agency. You can find her on Twitter at melissblanco.