What your underwear says about your love life ...

I went home last weekend and sat one morning eating my Aunt Fern's  homemade pancakes while she folded laundry . It seemed like a typical Saturday. She had already done the dishes, swept , cooked, and was grumbling at underwear as she folded them .
" Act right . You know how you are supposed to lay. Just get it together and lay down and act right."

At that moment, I noticed some things.
A. Everyone in my family is a bit off their rocker .(in ways that I am comfortable with and find oddly reassuring )
B.  I had never ever seen anyone fold underwear like that in my life . It was the most perfect way  I have ever seen in my whole life  . They were folded up from the crotch to the band and them quaded in a delicate dance of fingers and fabric .  They stacked absolutely perfect . They were amazingly flat and looked mathematically square . They might even have resembled a game of Jenga had she rotated the direction with each row .
C.  I thought about how I had never seen anyone argue with underwear.
D I had no idea that was even a way to fold undies . I wondered how many other things I probably have been doing wrong my whole life . It made me feel somehow small and immature and sorta foolish but I have no idea why . Maybe I realized how even more amazing she is ?
E. the amount of time and effort she put into folding was nearly at the level of art. Any possible line and wrinkle was removed and forced into perfect lines . Resistance was futile .
G I had no idea that someone could put love  into folding underwear . I assure you each fold was meticulously executed . She made sure that no ripple or wave would be left in the fabric . It was a labor of love . I was mesmerized by my aunt folding laundry .

I am not that kind of laundress .  I do not fold my undies . Honestly- once my booty is in them- all the wrinkles are removed by other means . Watching her artfully craft, pinch, and force the rebel wrinkles into the mold of perfection that all the rest of the underwear army had already been assembled had my utmost attention . What kind of love self sacrifices to that degree ?

I don't think I have ever spent so much time picking out underwear to purchase as was calmly and lovingly put into folding the stack . Had I never loved like that ? Would I ever put that much effort into someone for something so simple ? Why had no one taught me how to adult with laundry like this ? The questions and ponderings were swimming in my head .

Do I think that everyone needs to fold laundry of their loved one as gracefully and perfectly to show their love and devotion to their significantt other ? No . But do I think that giving up your time and energy to labor out of love for someone you care very deeply for is mandatory ? Yes, I do .

I don't think I have seen such a more simple picture of love in a long time . Does my uncle notice that she flattened each and every ripple ? I doubt that .   I don't even know if the perfect flattening makes single difference on whether said undies are more or less comfy .

Does it remove that fact that I saw someone put their energy into something so small ? No .
How you treat the small things in a relationship - THAT does show your love for others .

Are you willing to give up something for someone else - even if they never notice ?
I think more people should . Gestures of love and devotion are simple to attain and often overlooked ....but as I say in the kitchen eating pancakes and watching my aunt fold underwear- I was absolutely sure that my aunt and uncle are in love .

What acts of love and sacrifice do you do for others ?
The simple things , even folding  underwear, for others can be a reminder to the other person that you love them .

So I'm asking, what does your folding technique  say about your life?
How are you expressing and showing your love for others?

Are you just going through the motions? Are you letting the people in your life put forth all the effort? Are you pushing, pulling, and lovingly pulling the teeny tiny wrinkles out?

After all, the little things aren't little.

Dear first responders...

Dear first responders-
Those of you who see a need in others and your first response is to fill the gap regardless of personal gain or cost,
Those of you who are sleep deprived and eat less calories than you should due to your overwhelming need to assist those in some form of crisis,
Those of you who are the physical representation of law and the last lines of defense of others,
Those that race in the dead of winter along icy streets to stop destruction or violence,
Those who hold broken bodies,
the dispatchers who never get the cries for help out of their nightmares,
the face that remains a blank slate when others mock, demean, and insult your sacrifice,
Those of you who answer the phone at 2am to listen professionally or personally,
the doors that you pass through not ever sure of what is on the other side,
the hugs you give to the grieving, the broken, and the distraught regardless of smell, age, or income,
relationships strained due to pagers and on call,
the empty spot you leave in the bed next to loved ones,
the missed birthdays,
the holiday celebrations had on random days to try to preserve some sense of normalcy,
the conversations you refuse to share with your spouse because you try to limit their fear for you,
the search lights and strained eyes,
the smoke and flames you face,
the uniform that labels you but doesn't always keep out the elements,
the CPR you perform long past when it is helpful to give family members some sliver of peace,
those who eat in uniform more often than at the dinner table,
those who sit with their backs to the wall and watch doors and scan the room for threats,
those who change directions in the mall to avoid your family becoming a target to former run-ins,
those who polish and shine and press uniforms to honor your fallen brothers and sisters,
the ones who escort families members unable to walk with the own power due to the weight of loss,
the kind eyes an abused woman sees who she is bruised and battered,
the  rescheduled date nights,
the vest on the hook that means you are home,
the boots by the door covered in unmentionables,
those of you hated and loved for what comes naturally to you,
the uniforms that you dry clean to remove things you hold in and haunts your already hectic sleep patterns,
those who walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
those who do not walk to emergencies but run,
the cold meals eaten later,
the colder meals you give up on and just throw away,
the uniform that parts crowds who only see a uniform not a person,
the sirens that are normal,
the flashing lights your eyes are used to looking past,
the family who just don't understand why you choose this profession,
the emotional recoil from the real world,
the blue lines and the red,

Thank you.
Your good deeds do not go unnoticed. Your sacrifice is good and saves more than the people who encounter, you give family tree's more time. You enable people to live and love and laugh another day.

In case no one tells you today- well done.

Trial by fire .

How do you know what you are made of ?  One way that we measure the strength of buildings and metals is trial by fire . We see the boiling point of the metal. We measure the outcome post fire for structural integrity.  We analyze if the building remains standing once the blaze has been let a smoldering mess. We look to see if the structure is still solid or if it will crumple under pressure AFTER the intial shock of the fire and destruction has already occurred .

Maybe the same is true of people.  Maybe the old tale about the parent putting tea, eggs, and a carrot in boiling water to educate their child about life is something that we should truly take to heart . The egg gets hard after the heat has already been removed .  The same is true of some people . The carrot completely crumples and turns to mush . It is the same color and retains most of the original vitamins but it is soft and easily destroyed when any pressure after the original heat has been removed . The tea is effected by the fire as well . It does not become hard like the egg . It is not weaker like the carrots . Instead the tea is brewed and changes . It becomes its best destiny . Some people are like tea . After being exposed to heat - they realize they have more potential and grow into their true destiny . They literally are tried  by fire and grow into more then previously thought of them.

I have been all three versions of the food depending on the trials I have encountered .  I'd love to tell you that some of my trials were totally random- but that is that the case. Some of the trials and pressure I have experienced were my own poor decisions . I have lost family, friends, a home, loved ones, etc due to my lack of good decisions.  I have failed. I have been  selfish and cruel and down right mean. My boiling points and structural integrity has not always revealed a core of strength. Times that I thought I had things under control only to find myself after the fire was left in ash- I am reminded of the documentary over the twin towers . The metal used for the "cage" - the internal metal that was to hold everything together in case of fire or destruction was not build according to the original plans . That error was very much like some of my errors .... they revealed my failings and I crumpled . I lost people dear to me . I lost pieces of me . I lost my sense of safety . I mushed like the carrot .

Another issue I've had when tried by flames and fears is ignoring the problems.  I foolishly tried to pretend I was "fine ." That's like seeing a fire in your cabinet and closing the door and hoping for the best . Ignoring the trials and fire does not make the fire cease to exist - it only allows it to grow and devour more.  A fire left untamed is allowed to feed and thrive on the kindling of ignorance. I couldn't hide from my problems or tribulations any more than closing the cabinet would stop the fire . It kept burning .
It kept eating away at things that were important .
I kept loosing things and people I love .

A few days ago I saw this verse :" When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not harm you . " Isiah 43:2

Ironically it's smoldered in the cabinet I tried to close ... I hadn't put out some of the things that were causing me harm . I hadn't stopped the fires . Today I reread the verse and something new stuck out.

"Walk through the fire ..." notice it doesn't say SIT and remain in the problem . It doesn't say create more problems due to anger and bitterness . It doesn't say ignore the fact that you are experiencing fire . Rather it points out something so obvious.

Don't stay in the fire .  You are passing through the flames .

"If you're going through hell - keep on going ." Don't stay the way that you are . Don't keep making the same stupid choices that you made to put you in that predicament. Keep building and get away from the fire .

Keep going .
Stop making the same bad choices and hoping for a new outcome because the cabinet is closed.
Keep fighting.
Stop providing kindling.
"...The flames will not harm you."
But they will change you .

Being tested by fire isn't the end - it's a shift.

Everyone is a used car salesmen when it comes to ourselves.

I am full of bad choices and mistakes in my life; however, it doesn't make me any less valuable.

It took me years to figure that out. And even typing it - is hard . We judge others entirely differently than we judge ourselves . I see myself through my passion and my intentions and also through all the ways I've failed . It's a teeter totter of insanity where the balance is never quite level . I want to be more than my failures . I want to find a way remove them. I don't want to lose the lessons learned or the growth I gained from the experience - but rather peel away some of the scars .

Everyone is a used cars saleman when it comes to themselves. We have all been hurt. We are all selling broken pieces of a person. What is even more interesting are the people who hide themselves, or worse the people they are in a relationship with.  Everyone has chapters in their life they don't like and do not like to read out loud. We are human.

Life is too short for crappy relationships with people who do not value you.
Life is too short to be with people who are not proud to have you and love you how you need. Love is not earned . It must be freely and wholeheartedly given . Life is too dang short to tolerate anything less than love . I do not mean the easy stuff of love : the seeing the good in your significant other, the flowers and fancy. The real aspects of love where it gets hard . The phone calls and texts  that occur between midnight and 4 am ... The confessions of mistakes you can't undo and have no idea how you can look at yourself in the mirror . The questions where there are no simple answers . The people who hold you up literally and figuratively whether it's due to too much alcohol, loss, or things you'll never want to speak of again .

Everyone tries hard to present themselves to the world in a light that shows off the good they have left . We see ourselves from the inside . We see those scars . We see the broken and battered. We know how badly it hurts to smile and be dutiful in our jobs, family role, and the motions of living. We follow the rules given to us by people who don't see inside our heads. These outsiders who tell us the "appropriate" ways to handle things . We shy away from vulnerability for fear of being seen as weak. The major issue with this - love and joy can only be attained through being vulnerability.

Used car salesmen are selling a thing- a piece of machinery that can be insured and replaced if broken. Hearts are not machinery . They are not able to be replaced . If we break a heart it's more like a broken bone -  scars  form to try and cover the weakness but that spot will always be weak. It will always have a tenderness that can not be wholy removed . The scars remain .

I read some  place that to truly be vulnerable a person must present all the parts of themselves - confess their most weak and tender spots and then metaphorically hand  the other person a knife knowing the other person has the map to your most tender and vulnerable aspects of you .

To try and find love and openness - you have to stop selling a used car.
You are not replaceable . You are not a machine .
Draw the map to your most vulnerable and tender .
 Admit what you need .
And hand the knife to someone you  trust .
Close your eyes ...
And be vulnerable .