After all these years...

I did something brave yesterday. I told the truth. I don't know about you, but I am the sort of person who will avoid confrontation at all cost. I'll smile sweetly and nod innocently in the face of torture, but ask me to be honest and say what I really think and I just can't do it -- especially if it means hurting someone's feelings or standing up for myself.

All that changed yesterday.

I had an opportunity to say what I really meant, to explain that something someone did was really and truly wrong and caused me a great deal of pain. I said it without fanfare or bitterness, but I did say it. And you know what? The sky didn't fall because I was honest. The earth didn't shatter and quake because I told the truth about being hurt. I think sometimes as Christians we tend to cover up other people's sins, thinking we are being selfless and decent and gentle and kind. We tiptoe away from them. It's so much easier to say nothing than to get embroiled in some sort of hoopla by confronting someone about his or her wrongdoing. It was a small victory. It was something very tiny that I did yesterday. But for the first time in a long time, I was honest and forthright about how I felt instead of swallowing the pain, putting on a brave face while my heart was aching, and pretending all was well.

I think it was a great start to a new year. A brave first step toward being who I am instead of trying to always be whoever the person in front of me wants me to be. I know some people don't struggle with this type of thing at all. But for those of us who are pleasers, this was no small feat. I am blessed.

Yours, standing tall when feeling small,

Megan Elizabeth

P.S. I posted the photo of my dog Poochini because I love my dog. It has nothing to do with this post. But he's danged cute, isn't he?

Life, Death, and Posterity...

Happy New Year!

As a Christian, I believe this life is just a brief prelude to the glorious eternity I will share with my heavenly Father, my Lord, and my loved ones. But that's not what this post is about. Today, New Year's Day, 2012, I'm thinking more about what my legacy will be here on earth for the generations that will come after me -- for my children's children and beyond. As I sit here listening to Dan Fogelberg sing "Sketches," and thinking about his early demise and his musical legacy, I can't help but wonder what I'd leave behind if, like him, my passing came earlier than expected.

I've been writing children's picture books, midgrade novels, and one long, arduous Young Adult novel for the past decade or so. None of them are published yet, but I keep plugging along. Suppose those book manuscripts never make it into the hands of children the world over. Would my legacy still be acceptable?

I've written a few songs and poems over the years. Those are unpublished, too. I've written for fashion magazines, for nonprofits, for television. Will any of that last? Probably not.

I love home design and decorating. I seem to have a knack for it, too. When I designed my own dream home, it turned out great! But the extra expenses involved when we had to switch contractors twice left us destitute. Was home design my legacy? Probably not.

I love to cook! Every year at Christmas and Easter, I whip up a magnificent feast a la the Frugal Gourmet and Nancy Glass (my mother). The oohs and ahhs feed my soul as I watch my family feed their stomachs with satisfaction. Is that my legacy? Making memories with my family around my table is sweet. But I doubt it will reach past the next few generations. I mean, I don't have any of my great grandmother's recipes. Do you? No, cooking is probably not going to leave a lasting legacy.

There are two things left circling in my mind. And neither of them involve accomplishments. First, I look into the eyes of my children and see smoky visions of myself staring back, glimpses and snippets of beautiful times we've had together. My daughters remember dancing through a field of wildflowers with me, singing a Jars of Clay song (Love Song for a Savior) at the top of our lungs as we drove to church each Sunday. "I WANT TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU! I WANT TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU! I WANT TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU! I WANT TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU!"

I think I've found my lasting legacy.

My calling all along was to spend myself on behalf of my children, to teach them to know and love their Savior, to gently guide them with loving, firm hands that will gradually shift from fresh and pink to wrinkled and chapped to arthritic and marred before returning to their Maker. My greatest joy is to bring glory and honor to God. And my highest calling is to share His love with a suffering world. But my everyday legacy will undoubtedly be wrapped up in thousands of tiny moments shared with my family -- moments of pure joy and bliss and seasons of tragedy where all I had to offer was a shoulder to cry on and tears to shed in unity with the hurting.

I am 48 years young. There's still time for that great novel of mine to get published or maybe a work of nonfiction I'll be wrapping up soon. Until then, my hope is that my soul will nourish the souls of those most precious to me.

Yours, with feet firmly planted in nutrient-rich soil and heart pierced and broken for the humble and needy,

Megan Elizabeth

A New Day

My husband works at The Inspiration Network. He's a television executive in charge of selecting programming to air, previewing it, researching what their audience wants and what is inspirational. This network used to air primarily religious programming -- preaching shows, teaching shows, Gospel music shows, that sort of thing. The shift toward entertainment programming that enriches is, I think, going to be a great one. There is so much trash tv available and so little that is inspiring. The "theme" of the shift in programming is "It's a New Day." I like that. It's invigorating to think that we can wake up one day and say, "Today is going to be different. Instead of ____________, I am going to _______________." We don't have to accept the way things are, the things life has thrown us that are unsavory, unappealing, or downright horrible. We can fall back and regroup. Or we can at least try to.

How would you fill in those blanks? Here's what I think...

Instead of suffering silently, I am going to call a friend and ask for help.
Instead of wishing I had a book published, I am going to finish the ones I have only partially completed and start submitting them to publishers.
Instead of worrying about money, I am going to trust God to provide for all of our needs.
Instead of judging people when they treat me poorly, I am going to pray for them.
Instead of sitting on the sidelines, I am going to get back in the game.

Yours, with trembling hands and fluttery heart, stumbling feet and blinded eyes,

Megan Elizabeth

Back to the blog...

I took quite a long hiatus from blogging due to unforeseen personal circumstances that just made me change my priorities, circle the wagons, get back to basics and get over some pretty huge wounds inflicted by people who should have known better but somehow, inexplicably, didn't.

So I was thinking about what I'd like to say after a year away, and it occurred to me that the shift in my priorities ought to be the focus. So here's the thing. After being ripped off by unscrupulous remodelers, losing over $100,000 in the process, facing four kids' college tuition with no money and no retirement money, dealing with bitterness, loss of faith in God, and severe emotional pain that left me on the outside of an organization I thought I'd see through until the day I died, I came to the conclusion that we walk through this life alone -- not completely alone but nothing is secure here beyond our own personal walk with God and our own interactions with other human beings. I trusted the wrong people, probably through some inner fault of mine that kept me from holding them accountable because I was insecure and underconfident. The thing is, if God has given us free will, and He says He has, that means other people have free will, too, and their decisions affect our lives. But ultimately, God is there in the midst of it all.

Learning the hard lessons -- always the hard way, it seems -- has left me vulnerable in some areas and hardened in others. I tend not to trust people as easily now and when bad things happen I tend to mistrust God as well. The important lesson I learned is that God can take that. He knows our frailties, fears, and concerns. He knows the deepest longings of our hearts, and already knows how we're going to react. The truth is He loves us in spite of our sin and sent His son because of our frailties. It's comforting to know that He has our backs when we're wrongly accused and is ever present -- ready to comfort us.

Hilary in La Boheme with Opera Carolina!

Congratulations, Hilary! You did an absolutely amazing job performing in La Boheme. We're so proud of you for heading up there in the middle of a snowstorm. What dedication and grit you have! And what a great dad to drive you up there... LOL!

You made a beautiful marching band member. We love you!

Hannah has been accepted to Berklee College of Music, so she's headed to Boston in the fall. We drove her down to Atlanta for an audition and interview a few months ago. She didn't want to tell anyone in the opera she was audi- tioning just in case she didn't get in... But she DID get in! And we just found out they only accepted around 16% of all their applicants this year.

Way to go, Hannah-Bella!

The ferocious beasts we love...

Musings...

It's been some time since I've posted anything on this blog. It seems I have no words left. Life has been quite a train wreck lately. But, you know, God has faithfully whispered in my ear, every step of the way, "this is the way, walk in it!" As we walk, we sometimes stumble, sometimes scurry too fast and miss a blessing, other times wallow for too long in the moat instead of walking the bridge above it. It's all a part of the journey. And meanwhile, feather touches of joy pierce through if we stop long enough to feel the dusty brush of them.

Here's to the new co-op, our new addition, the future sale of our home, and all else God has planned in the coming months...

Yours when walking mountain crags and breathing in pure bliss and when sludging through muck and mush and wishing life would cease to be unpleasant,

Megan Elizabeth

Hannah and Tim dressed in 19th century garb...

Reptilian event... Jesse!

Snake belt... Good on ya, Jesse!

Reptilian event...

Drew wearing a snake scarf... You had to be there!

What's the world coming to???

The latest in a string of crazy pro-choice quotes I've encountered. Why can't we talk sensibly about this subject? Sheesh!

If something is inside my body, I'm entitled to have it killed no matter what it is. If all the human beings on Planet Earth--innocent and guilty, unborn and already-born, great and small, young and old, rich and poor, smart and stupid--were assembled somewhere inside my body, along with Baby Jesus, Almighty God, and the Flying Spaghetti Monster, then I'd be entitled to holocaust 'em. That's part of the meaning of the word "my" in the phrase "my body".

Cleaning up the messes...

I've been posting a lot at SGM Refuge lately. I attended a Sovereign Grace church for a few years in the nineties with troubling results. My walk of faith darkened as I was taught how truly sinful a person I was. My sweet love for Jesus my Savior, Shepherd, and friend disintegrated as I was taught he went to the cross obediently to satisfy the intense wrath of His father, God. Wrath which I deserved. Week after week, I endured these lectures on my sinfulness until one day something unusual happened. A revival broke out in Toronto at the Airport Vineyard Christian Fellowship and it spread southward to our church in Virginia. People began to worship with abandon, to weep tears of joy, to laugh uproariously at the goodness of God. The more people were freed from bondage to legalistic sin-seeking in both their own lives and the lives of others (through accountability groups and weekly confessional meetings), the more ferociously the pastors clung to their Reformed doctrine and rabid sin-seeking. It began to be quite puritanical.

SGM Refuge is a website where those who have been wounded, lost faith in God, lost their previous true, valid perception of God, were disfellowshipped, or otherwise harmed by a SG church can meet together, receive comfort and healing and provoke repentance on the part of those who injured them. It's tough to forgive people who harm you, but you know, a happier life awaits those who do. I almost think it has to be a divine work of God to forgive certain things -- child molestation or abuse, among others. But when these things happen within the church, it's a deeper work than forgiveness. You have to also warn others not to go to a place that will not only cause them harm but is labeled a place to find shelter. There's a certain obligation to the unknowing public on the part of those of us who have knowledge about the flaws within these churches. If we know, for example, that a 15-year-old boy has molested a preschooler and is still serving as an assistant in the three-year-old class at his church, there is an obligation to protect that I believe precludes that obligation not to talk about others (gossip). These are the sorts of things I've been sorting through at Refuge. I invite your insights and comments on the subject as I'm just now getting a real grasp on what it is that compels me to continue commenting over there. I have not attended one of these churches for ten years, yet I still feel earnestly compelled to warn people. Is this okay to do when I haven't heard for myself any of these pastors for a decade?

What do you think?

Time for the Great Christmas Wrap Up

And by wrap up, I don't mean presents because there probably won't be too many. It's slim pickins this year! But we have each other. And what I mean by that is that we really, truly do have one another's best interest at heart. We pray together, sing together, laugh together. What more could a family need? Certainly not a bunch of wrapped packages tied up with string. My favorite things are much more substantial than that.

We have love.

So great a love that it's uncontainable and spills out into one another's lives on a daily, sometimes moment by moment basis.

We have peace.

That feeling of contentment that leaves you drifting off to sleep in one another's arms or all snuggled together under the Christmas quilt we nod off while watching White Christmas with a mug of wassail in our hands, which someone graciously grabs at the last minute and places securely on the table.

We have joy.

This is the biggie for me this year and hold onto your hats, your chairs, your wigs, your everything because God worked a miracle in my life this year that is gonna knock you right onto the floor when you hear it.

I struggled with clinical depression for at least 30 years. The initial trigger was a trauma that happened around age 13, followed by an even bigger one in early adulthood. I was crippled by it but learned over the years to just press on, keep plugging away at this thing called life. I didn't expect anything great out of life since my brain wouldn't allow it. I just basically hoped no one I loved would die before I did. Simple wish, eh? Well, after my favorite aunt, my grandfather, three uncles, my father, and my cousin all died (my cousin was murdered), I was virtually shell-shocked.

The depression deepened.

I tried several different medications with varying success. The drugs were most successful at adding weight to my hips. They're REALLY good at that! But the depression only got worse. Finally, I had reached the end. Thoughts of suicide filled my mind when I least expected them. Driving down the road. Trying to fall asleep at night. I had tried everything I knew how to do to get back to a healthy place with NO success whatsoever. There didn't seem to be much hope left, despite the fact that my husband and children needed me. I was only staying around for them, not me.

That must have been what God was waiting for. Either that, or He just decided to do something big to glorify Himself. I took my girls on a special girl trip to Virginia and we went to our old church (The Chesapeake Vineyard). Once there, a friend of mine, who coincidentally also suffers from depression, asked how I was doing. I said, "I should probably be medicated." She placed her hand on my forehead and said, "God, medicate her." Then someone tapped her on the shoulder and she walked away to answer a question. I left.

We went to a friend's house to visit. We went to the beach to get a suntan. We went back to my sister-in-law's house. Throughout the next day, I felt strange. My hands and feet kept feeling like they were floating upward. It was hard to walk. I felt so light I was afraid to drive. The girls told jokes that made me laugh uproariously. They stared. Finally, one of them said, "What's wrong with you? You keep laughing all the time!" That's when it hit me.

I WASN'T DEPRESSED ANYMORE!

This was big news. So I called my husband and told him about it (which is hard to do when you're sobbing happy tears into his ear). He did what any man whose wife has suffered from depression for as long as he's known her might do. He didn't believe me. When we got back home, I was able to cook and bake and laugh and let painful situations roll off me and counsel friends and love people and... live. He was shocked. Stunned. Amazed. We cried. I think I've cried more over the past few months out of happiness than I ever did when I was depressed!

I don't know why God chose to work a miracle in my life and why He doesn't do the same in other people's lives. It remains a mystery. God remains a mystery. I guess if He didn't, He'd become predictable and would more closely resemble Santa Claus than God. But boy, am I thankful! Every new day holds promise. Good things are expected instead of bad. When bad things happen -- and they constantly do -- I am better able to handle them.

Life is good again!

And you have NO idea how dramatic a change this is for me. Because I was the strong, silent type. But now you know.

So rejoice with me!!!

As you celebrate Christmas, opening presents, sipping cocoa, caroling, hanging out with family, remember that God is still in the miracle-working business. And that He loves you. And when you think of me, I hope you smile.

Merry Christmas!!

Hannah (alias Dorothy) with Cosette (alias Toto) and Ella-bella...

Hannah, Grace, and Hilary and Hannah and Nik

Check the SAT off the list...

Hilary and Tosca and Hilary and Rachel R.




The girls took their SATs yesterday. Now the scores, whatever they may be and God help us all, will be sent to the colleges they're applying to. The next step is getting Hannah's audition cd made before Dec. 15. And all financial aid forms filled out. And Christmas? Oh yeah, we want to celebrate the birth of the Savior of the world, too!!

The reason for the season. The hope that is in us. The anchor of our souls.

Yes.

As we work through all the paperwork, let us remember to celebrate with friends and family the great and glorious gift! And while we're at it, a little chocolate, a bit of wassail, twinkling lights, caroling by candlelight, reading from Tasha Tudor's Take Joy, and acting out the Christmas story -- starring Steve as the donkey, as usual!

With all the joy that characterizes this magnificent season,

Megan

Creative, Talented Children...

Revie and Hannah and our talented Mr. Bundles, Drew!

Overwhelmed, Overworked, and Underpaid... (with big dividends)

Getting two girls into college at the same time is a strange and surreal thing. Doing it while seeking freelance writing gigs, gainful employment, finishing up a home remodel and preparing to sell a house, and homeschooling two boys is quite a daunting task. I am completely overwhelmed!

Hannah wants to go to Boston Conservatory and study to become an opera singer. A noble and exciting launch into the world of the arts. But this requires an audition cd complete with accompaniment. We found an accompanist who will make a cassette tape for us, but in this day and age it seems inappropriate to sing along with a cassette. We're looking for someone who can play the pieces onto tracks on garage band (I love my Mac!) and then Hannah can lay the vocal tracks on after that. But who can do this for us?

Meanwhile, our Hilary is pursuing acting. She has the highest IQ of any of our children and frankly it's undoubtedly higher than either mine or my husband's, but she wants to act. Ouch. So she has to audition, too. We can't just fill out applications and send them off on a wing and a prayer. Oh no! It can't be that easy!

Okay, I'm mouthing off about all this, but the truth is I'm as pleased as can be that we've homeschooled four children and made it through the entire way with two of them. That Hilary's SAT score is going to be through the roof is very gratifying. That Hannah has taken at least a full year of college already and possibly two is equally gratifying. And the time and effort it's taking to get them into college is more than worth it. I love these crazy kids!

Now I must run -- time to take three of them to fencing so they can defend their honor if anyone ever challenges them to a duel. And who knows? Maybe the boys can get fencing scholarships when they go off to college?

Yours -- when I'm so busy I don't have time to write a word and when all I do is sit and surf mindlessly,

Megan Elizabeth

Celebrate!