Lost

Long before I ever created a blog I used to write to clear my head. I never thought I was any good but I loved it nonetheless. Writing was cathartic. But it never came easy. Not the entries in my personal journal and definitely not writing assignments for school. Even those quick 500 word essays for school were torture.

Even though I love to write, I lament about it each and every time. In school I wouldn’t put pen to paper until the night before a due date. My procrastination was never due to lack of preparation, most times; it was just always a disconnect between putting what was in my head (which was a perfectly crafted piece) on paper. But I’d manage to sprawl some incoherent words (to me) on paper and pray for a passing grade. Nine times out of ten the paper would return with an “A” with some supporting commentary that what I had written in angst and turmoil was actually good. And I’d re-read what I had written and reluctantly agree.

Since I created this blog, unfortunately, nothing has changed. I thought it would. Creating a blog was supposed to hold me accountable so I could diligently hone my craft. It hasn’t. What this blog has done is place this self-imposed mandate on me to not only
”just write”, but to eloquently string words together that are relevant, fresh, thought provoking, soul-stirring, life-changing, awe-inspiring and witty…all at the same time. Each and every time. And did I mention that the disconnect…is still connected.

I KNOW I have something to say. I’ve exhausted all of the “how to’s” that I’ve read about to try and get past this rut so I can say it. I totally just lied. Forgive me Lord. I haven’t tried them all. And the ones that I have tried, I only tried them my head. But you did just read that part about the self-imposed mandate to be perfect every single time I put hand to keyboard (or pen to paper). It applies here too.

I’m so pathetic.

Help!

What do you do to get passed the rut?

Want a chuckle? My cousin just saw me tapping away on my computer and noticed that I wasn’t on the Internet and asked, “Are you writing a book?” Bwahahaha If only she really knew.

Babies-n-Fools

My thoughts are very random. I can look at one thing and it’ll spark a memory from years ago. The other day, the spark was a man and a woman who had apparently witnessed a car accident and was giving their account of the accident. They were getting back in their car that was parked on the shoulder of the road. As the man was approaching the driver side, I held my breath and prayed that he hadn’t locked himself out of his car.

Who thinks like that? Well, I do.

Years ago I went to get my hair done with my baby in tow. I was 19 years old and was determined that I wouldn’t be that teenage mom that dropped her kids off on her parents so that she could continue living her life as if she didn’t have another human to look after. I took my lil’chubs everywhere I went. And if he couldn’t go, that meant I didn’t need to be there.

My friend Kris (shampoo girl, babysitter and godmother) walked out of the salon with me when I was finished. We were all a-chatter talking about whatever 19 year olds talk about – probably gossip. I got to the car, unlocked it and strapped my chubs in his seat and shut the door. I knew what I had done as soon as I had slammed the door shut. I had locked my baby in the car. I must’ve laid my keys on the front passenger seat as I was situating him in his seat. Out of habit I always locked my passenger door after I strapped my baby in because I NEVER wanted anyone to snatch my kid out of my car while walking to the other side. (Not that the distance from passenger to driver was any great length because I drove a F.ord Festiva and I could lay across the front seats stretched like superwoman and my arms and legs would nicely hang out of both doors).

Panic overcame me (what am I going to do)…then fear settled in (my baby is going to burn up in this car). I looked at Kris, hoping she’d magically produce a spare key, but no dice. It was summer, hot, my windows were wound all the way up and my precious little pumpkin was perched (happily, mind you) in his car seat spitting bubbles. Calling a roadside service would mean having to wait and waiting for assistance to arrive was not an option.

I can’t even remember what Kris was doing but I quickly prayed to God to send a miracle because I was at a loss. Before I could say “AMEN” I looked across the parking lot and saw 2 parked police cars with cops in them. PRAYER ANSWERED.

You’d think that I sprinted across the lot yelling hysterically for help, right? WRONG. All I could think was that the cops were going to put me in jail for reckless endangerment of my kid. I didn’t want to risk them thinking I was some flippant teenaged mom. Pride and embarrassment settled in and I stood there and thought long and hard for about 60 seconds before I considered approaching them. My girl Kris was looking at me like ‘you a fool’. And…I was. I had access to immediate assistance to rescue my child from a steaming hot car and I had to think about it. Do me a favor, pause for 60 seconds. Kinda long, ain’t it?

Long story short. I walked over and told the cops my story and begged their assistance. Turns out that this happens more than one would think. They didn’t bat an eye, walked right over and jimmied the lock. I thanked them profusely, got in my car and went home.

You know the saying, “God looks out for babies and fools”? Well, He was looking out for both of us that day.

Have you ever been in need – emotionally, financially or otherwise – and God put the solution right in front of you and all you had to do is ask for the help…and you didn’t ask?

Don’t be no fool! Just ask. Don’t let pride or embarrassment block you from getting your blessing.

With love, Lisa

Don't Be Scared

I have a confession to make. The post that is dated July 1st was initially drafted to post on March 25th. I created Lisa is for Love on March 25, 2009 – over 3 months ago.

No big deal, right? WRONG!

You see, I discovered my love for writing 3+ years ago and I have a couple of notebooks and a flash drive to prove it. I’m no expert, but I'vebeen told by a real writer, that I’m actually pretty good. In his words, “I have ‘a natural voice’”. Okay, whatever…

I have tons of stories to tell – some are opinions on stuff that makes the news; some are of the introspective, insightful, deep thought variety; and some stuff is based on the reality that is my life. Since I have this “natural voice”, I should be spitting out blog posts quicker than the Duggars can spit out a kid. Right? Wrong again.

So what was that 3 months about? I thought about it last night and I can only sum it up in four letters: F-E-A-R. That devil called fear has been sitting on both my shoulders, dressed in red suits, yapping negativity in my ear ever since March 25.

Fear Devil #1: What do you mean you want to blog? There about 50-11hundred blogs on the Internets?
Me: Yeah and I love a lot of them. They make me think, laugh, cry, smile…
Fear Devil #2: Exactly! What makes you think you can invoke that type of emotion out of your readers…if you get any readers? Plus, you don’t have that much to write about.
Me: Well um-er-uh, didn’t you read my “About Me” section? It says that this blog is more for me than it is for you. So, your point is?
Fear Devil #1: My point is, just like in relationships, that’s a lame excuse.
Me: But it IS true, I just want a place to put my thoughts. I’ll tell folks about it and if they read it…cool! If not…cool?

I was defeated on March 26, 2009. I couldn't get that conversation out of my head. I started second guessing myself day by day, even though a lot of stuff happened that I could've written about. Days turned to weeks and well, you know how it goes.

But there was something inside of me that kept nudging my spirit. Something that wouldn't allow me to delete the blog altogether. Something that would make me set a date to start again, even though that date has passed many times over.

The spirit of power (read: confidence) resides in me and it had a breakthrough. I ain't scared no mo’! Fear is real (just like I believe the devil is real), but it didn't come from God, because he only gives good and perfect gifts. And I sure as heck don’t have to succumb to it.

So like my first post said way back in March; you can like this blog, love it, or leave it. It doesn't matter to me.

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”
2 Tim 1:7

Don’t Be Scared!

With love, Lisa