Mission Impossible

This morning I tossed a medium-size kitchen rug into the washer, and I fully expected my Maytag Dependable Care, Quiet Plus, Heavy Duty, 3 Speed Select, Super Capacity, 14 Cycle machine to let that rug have it. A short time later I went back in to discover the washer turned cattywampus (how much do you love that word?) and about four feet out of place – in the middle of the blasted room. By all appearances, roles had been reversed and the rug had done a number on the machine.

Does your life ever seem like that? You should be runnin’ it, but somehow it is runnin’ you. Did I just hear a “Yeees!” through my screen? Well, that has been my experience of late – for about the past month (yes, it does seem to have coincided with the start of the school year, go figure…). I have been feeling like a wilted two-day old balloon; you know the kind that just barely hovers above the floor. And there has been a pin hole in my balloon with pressure being applied to both sides to squeeze out all of the remaining air. Do you know that feeling?

So I sat down in a moment of solitude and listed what I perceived to be the pressures depleting my balloon: the need for other people’s approval – the need for certain people to like me; guilt and regret associated with my grandmother’s death; the needs of my children and my husband; frustration with myself over poor choices regarding food, time management, discipline of my girls; and just the mountain of To Dos that are ever swarming in my head.

Somehow I felt immediately less burdened when I put my pen down. I crawled in the bed (yes, at 9:30 am – my girls were at school) and peacefully rested for an hour. When I awoke, I lay there – very still and snug – and treasured silence. The verse that I had encountered twice in the past two days gently broke the surface of my stillness to say, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). And it was at that point that I got it.

I had been praying and reading Scripture every morning, but – I came to realize – they were selfish prayers of request – with little to no praise or confession and no silence for listening. The static of self absorption, sin, and busyness was blocking our communication.

I came face to face (again) with the reality of impossibility. I cannot be all I want to be nor can I do all I want to do. I cannot be super mom, writer extraordinaire, merry maid, household manager, super-healthy woman, selfless wife, blah, blah, blah… Because I am a finite being bound by space and time. But I serve One who is not. He is infinite and limitless.

Apart from Him, I can do nothing.

I was trying to give and serve, live and do out of my own emptiness.

In Him, I find love, grace, peace, and mercy and FROM HIM I can give love, grace, peace, and mercy. I can give out of His abundance, not out of my own poverty.

And that’s really a great place to be. I can know joy here, and I can know peace here. There is a whole bunch of freedom to be found in accepting the impossibility of my own desires. I still cannot do everything and be everything that I want to be. BUT I can be and do everything He wants me to. And I can know that He will perfectly equip me for His purposes.

Unfortunately, I do tend to allow my own expectations and desires to leave me cattywampus every now and then, and we have to readjust the load just like I need to go do right now to my own washer. Oh dear, I forgot all about that…

The Big Reveal…

Okay, so let’s unpack this thing (for those of you who haven’t been around in a couple of days, you need to read this before proceeding with this post). I’ll start with the four fabrications:

  • I have always taken great pride in being a brunette, so I have never dyed my hair blonde.
  • I did not write for The Tiger, but I sure do wish I had.
  • I am not writing a book and don’t really aspire to. Well, I take that back; I would like to but I have no idea what it would be about…
  • I don’t think I will ever teach another day in an English classroom. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it. I just never figured out how to manage the paper load. I do think I will work, but I’m not sure what I want to be when I grow up…

So, now let’s turn some attention on the things that are true. I have to add my own disclaimer, though I was quite wayward as a high school and college student, not one of these experiences involved the consumption of libations of any sort.

  • I always wanted braces and got them right after Chris and I were married.
  • I woke up from having my wisdom teeth removed in the drive-thru of the CVS at Cashua and Second Loop. Ms. Ruby’s animals were still frequent fixtures at the newly opened store at that point.
  • My dad, my five year-old sister, and I were in the truck when I wrecked it. We all walked away with a scratch a piece. We were not buckled and there was a loaded rifle in the truck with us (you know, that’s just how we roll in Marion…). It is only now that I fully realize God’s protection on that day; He is too good to me. I could’ve gotten my license before 17, but I was just too afraid after that.
  • My mom is hard core, man. She did make me stand in the corner and wash all the dishes, but she rocks!
  • In the school fundraiser, teachers were auctioned off. The highest bidder was allowed to pie their teacher. Two of my students got into a bidding war, and I went as the most expensive teacher (not sure that’s a compliment at all). That really was quite fun!
  • The underclassmen egged our senior Halloween party and I caught one in the eye. There is a picture of me walking into the building in our senior yearbook with a caption that says, “Cookie is eggcited to be here today!” I love that…
  • I did fall all the way down at the prom šŸ™ The whole evening was quite harrowing, really.
  • “When a man loves a woman….” sniff, sniff. Sad but true…
  • Jumpin’ J’s can hook you up with some chicken livers! I know it’s gross, and I don’t care…
  • After I got the fake nails, I loved to walk around the classroom and tap on my students’ desks. So fun! I kept them until we had to make room in the budget for a baby, and the acrylics had to go.
  • We had so much goofy fun in Marion! One of my friends was a cheerleader, and she had four or five different uniforms. One night all of us dressed up in a uniform and went cruisin’ a nearby town. All of the uniforms were very different (same color scheme), but we totally passed off that we were all MHS cheerleaders. We even went out into the grassy part of the town square and started building pyramids. We also climbed our town Christmas tree (an enormous magnolia strung with thousands of lights) smoked cigars and sang Christmas carols. The police officer doing his nightly rounds was quite bewildered by the “singing Christmas tree.” We tried to get him to join us, but he gently sent us on our way. Growing up in a small town was really quite fun!

My junior and senior English teacher also added his own experience to the list (I’m mad I didn’t think of it to start with!).

True or False: As a junior in high school, Cookie Eaddy once slapped a classmate, the superintendent’s son, so hard that he carried the imprint of her hand for 3 full class periods. Yep, true! We were in the middle of English class, and the aforementioned miscreant had been baiting me for a few hours. I calmly stood up and walked over (picture the scene, everyone is seated and engaged in study) and walloped him, and I turned around and returned to my seat. My teacher, my own inspiration for becoming an English teacher, paused to watch the whole thing and promptly resumed the lesson, knowing that said fellow surely deserved his beatdown. He did. And in my defense, I remember getting in a scrap with the same gentleman in fifth grade, where he gave me a bloody nose. We’re even now, I guess.

So, there you have it! I so enjoyed bustin’ out some oldies but goodies with ya. Tomorrow’s date night, so maybe Chris and I’ll go splash in the Flo-town fountain by Olive Garden just for ole times sake…

Tall Tales & Truth

On the first day of class I would often ask my students to share about themselves; specifically, they would be asked to divulge two truths about themselves and one lie. We, as their classmates, would have to guess which tidbit was not true. Well, as your luck would have it, class is in session. Are you game? Of the tidbits listed below, four are absolutely fabricated.

  • I had braces as an adult.
  • While still waxed on anesthesia from having my wisdom teeth removed, I lifted my head and opened my eyes to see chickens strutting around the CVS drive-thru area.
  • While driving with a learner’s permit, I rolled my dad’s truck several times in a ditch. I did not get my driver’s license until I was 17.
  • My mom made me stand in the corner as a teenager.
  • I dyed my hair blonde as part of a dare.
  • A student once donated $40 to a school fundraiser in order to be allowed to put a creme pie in my face.
  • If I had a son, I would want to name him Carter.
  • I do not like chewing gum.
  • When I lived at home, I had to wash all of the dishes by hand even though we had a perfectly functioning dishwasher.
  • When in college, I wrote for The Tiger, the Clemson student newspaper.
  • I was egged at a Halloween party.
  • I fell down during the Senior walk at my Senior prom.
  • My first car was a blue Ford Tempo.
  • I have decided to return to the classroom as a high school English teacher once Campbell enters 5K.
  • As a teenager, I liked to watch myself cry in a mirror while singing Percy Sledge.
  • I love fried chicken livers.
  • My first purchase with my first teaching paycheck was professionally applied fake fingernails.
  • My friends and I use to cruise in Marion. We would pretend that our car died, and we’d get out and push it down Main Street.
  • We’d also ride around in the trunk with the top pulled down and then pop up to surprise the unsuspecting driver behind us.
  • I have recently begun writing a book.

Can you guess what’s not true about me? Probably leaves some rather disturbing truths…

C’mon and hit me with your best shot…

You totally hate me right now because you are going to be singing that all day! C’mon, at least it isn’t as bad as the recommendation from my last post šŸ™‚

I’ve been thinking. Some of my favorite posts over the summer have come from your emails, comments, and questions. Whatcha got for me? Shoot me an email (secawthon@yahoo.com) with a question, a series topic, etc… I don’t make any promises, but I will give due consideration to anything you send my way. I ain’t skerred…

Hit me.

Would a rose by any other name smell as sweet?

Feelin’ the need for a lil’ levity up in here, so I’m gonna take on the most FAQ of my life – How did you get the name Cookie? Just between you and me, I am named after this man:

Edd Byrnes. This is actually the first time I’ve ever seen a pic of the fella. He’s cute enough, I guess. Do we resemble at all? No, we shouldn’t. He’s not my dad or anything. He starred in a TV show entitled 77 Sunset Strip, which ran from 1958-1964. The hunky star, whose character was named Kookie, must have made an impression on my pre-pubescent mom because I am his namesake. When the ‘rents had the proverbial bun in the oven (i.e., me) they called it their lil’ cookie. To my knowledge, they never intended for the name to stick at my birth, but it did. Ole Edd has a hit single entitled “Kookie, Kookie (Lend Me Your Comb)” that you can download on Itunes or check out in my sidebar. A must-have for any playlist! He was quite the predecessor to the metrosexual – perfectly styled and coifed ‘do at all times.

My maiden name was Eaddy. A most unfortunate pairing. I’ve heard “Eaddy all the cookie” more than once in my day. Certainly there were times I longed to be called Susan or Jane or Sara, but I have grown into Cookie.

As a flirty high school and college student, I tucked my chin, tilted my head, batted my lashes and swore in my most Southern drawl that I was named Cookie because I was sooooo sweet. Huh!

After graduating from college and accepting my first teaching position at TL Hanna (yes, the movie Radio should ring a bell), I declared my name to be Sheila. I abhorred that decision. I really did not know who she was, nor did I like her.

I love being Cookie. People remember my name. They are interested at best, puzzled at worst, why a 35 year-old mom chooses to be called Cookie. I didn’t really choose it, but I love being the ole’ Cookmeister.