Because I Love You....

Oh my stars! Y'all done made me get out the blog for the first time in nearly a year. The world has gone mad and I'm about to tell you all you  need to know on how I feel about the whole thing.

I'm about to get real serious. I'm about to address believers and non-believers alike. I'm going to address both groups separately but in the same post. Hang on, it's a rather uncomfortable ride. But, I've been tearful and sad for over a week now watching all of you and love you enough to share my thoughts.

Believers, for my own reasons I feel like it's important that I address you first. Here goes...

I have never in my life been so sad and disappointed by the nastiness coming from some of you. When you are vulgar and hateful in expressing your opinion to non-believers (While quoting the bible even!) you completely take away any point you are trying to make. You've just alienated someone who doesn't believe. You've just set in stone their feeling that they never want to be a believer, that they never want to be like us. You've just confirmed to them that those who follow Yeshua (Jesus) are hateful bigots.

When you post a Facebook rant about how terribly sinful it is to be homosexual, then spend the next hour posting pictures of half naked men/women in sexual poses and how you can't wait to see Magic Mike, you've just destroyed your testimony. When you are involved in a sexual relationship out of wedlock, when your friends know that you lied to your job the last time you called in, when your facebook feed is filled with pictures of your drunk escapades or profanity laced rants, you destroy your testimony. When non-believers see this they find you laughable, not someone that would encourage them to follow the L-rd. They see a  hypocrite, a liar, a double standard.

You see, non-believers have an advantage. They don't have the faith that G-d is watching their every move so they don't feel like they have to hide the fact that they're sinful. Meanwhile, we believers are busier than cats covering poop trying to hide our own shame so we can lie about who we are to the world and sit in our self-made judgement seats.

 Now, how can I say something about being judgmental while being judgy myself? Because I've been guilty too. I'm calling myself out right along with you. I'm taking the beam out of my own eye so I can talk to you about the speck in yours. I've sinned this way quite recently in a large group setting. I'm coming to you in love to warn you of the dangers of what I see happening. I'm warning you that when judgement comes, you will be judged for the words you spoke in your life you will be judged with the same measuring stick you applied to others. You see, sin is sin. No sin is worse than another. Murderer, liar, hypocrite.... in fact, insert whatever sin you can think of right here in this little blank __________________ . It's all the same to the L-rd. Measuring sin is a thought of man. So, truly, the only thing that is different among sins are the consequences that humans apply to them. If you're going to use the L-rd to justify your beliefs, then please make sure you are trying ALL of His word to YOUR life and not just to the lives of others.

I have many non-believers in my life...family, friends, etc. They've all told me the things I just told you. If, in our words and deeds, we cause someone to turn away from the L-rd, we've sinned. As a believer, YOU are the only view some of them will ever have of the L-rd. Remember that in all that you do, in all that you speak.

Picture this...Take every single drop of blood spilled by Yeshua. Now, take each drop and apply it individually to every person who ever has and ever will live. Everyone gets their very own drop of blood to cover their sin. Now, think of every single person that didn't, or won't, use their drop of blood because of something you, or another believer, said or did. How much of Yeshua's blood was shed in vain? Let that sink in for a minute.

Non-believers, just know these few points...

I know a few of you like to take some scriptures you've heard here and there, or maybe even go looking for them, and use them as an attack on believers thinking they are picking and choosing (and some of them are). However, here is what you don't understand -- the bible isn't a book about a bunch of saints. It's about a bunch of sinners and how even in the filth of their human-ness the L-rd still reached for them out of love. That as despicable and awful as they could be He still desired for them to be something more and had great plans for them.

There are other things I could share -- like why folks aren't killed for sin now days, about the differences in laws given to the Israelites and laws given to gentiles, man laws vs. G-d laws, things that are cultural references only, but I think all of that is probably more than you'd like to absorb at the moment and I don't want to distract from the point I'm trying to make here.

Not all believers are the terrible people you may think we are. And not all non-believers are the terrible people we think they are. As with any group, there are always a few who mess things up for the many. Please remember how angry you feel when believers stereo-type you and don't stereo-type us in return.

When I scroll through Facebook and see your hurts and disappointments, I feel them too and pray for you. When I see your joys I rejoice for you. Whether you share my faith or not I love you, I will be kind to you, I will admit my imperfections and try to make them right. In no way can I ever claim to be perfect because of my faith, it is because of my imperfections that I need my faith. It is because of my brokenness and humanness (or humanMess as I like to say) that I need my faith.

You see, the nastiness of some believers is not a believer problem....It's a HUMAN problem. It's pride, it's vanity, it's our inability as humans to see ourselves the way others see us and make corrections. It's because we are human, not because we believe.

In case you were wondering what's got the Tomlins all "weird" lately....

So, those of you who are with me on Facebook are probably wondering what in the world is going on with those Tomlin people. You're probably wondering where all this talk about G-d came from, and why in the world does she always put that hyphen in the middle of G-d when she types it? Why is she using all these alternate names for G-d? What's all this Shabbat and Challah stuff about?



Imma tell ya..



Don and I have always had faith in G-d. [Hereafter, in this post, referred to as HaShem (“the name” in Hebrew)].  We just didn't talk about it much because we knew that we weren't in the right place and, because we felt alienated from other Christians who lean more towards spewing judgmental bigotry regarding other's splinters while feigning ignorance regarding the beams in their own eyes.



About ten years ago a family moved in behind us. The first few years I pretty much ignored them. Somewhere along the way Jack was playing in the yard and met their three boys and they began to play together on a regular basis. This is when I noticed there was something different about them. That’s when I started putting the pieces together.



Initially I thought they were Jewish. The boys wore four tassels and Jack would come home after eating dinner with them saying things about Kosher, and Shabbat, and started calling them his “Hebrew” friends. I thought, “OK, cool. No problem with him learning about the roots of our Christian Messiah.”



It wasn’t until a few more years passed that I really had an opportunity to talk, in more than just passing regarding the kiddos, to the mom of the family. She explained to me that they were Christian, not Jewish, and chose to follow the Torah (the first five books of the Old Testament). This got my attention. She and I established a rapport, I expressed an interest in their dairy goats and chickens, and Erica’s goat milking days commenced. Ya’ll remember those days, right? The goat I called Lucy(fer)?



I went on about my business, letting them be them, and me be me – but always looking across the back yards and thinking, “Something is right over there.” I became more disconnected from mainstream Christianity and abandoned the evangelical church I was attending. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that the Old Testament was somehow a taboo subject. That we would be given that part of the bible and then be told that it didn’t apply to us. Christianity no longer made sense. And, then I realized it had never made sense. That I’d always felt like something was missing, that somehow I had lost part of what HaShem desired for us. Somewhere in the back of my mind was a voice shouting, “Jesus was a Jew!” and I realized that, as Christians, we are all in denial about what that really means, what the New Testament was telling us all the times it said “As was His (Jesus’) custom” when He did “Jewish” things.



Then, one night as we were going to bed, Don says to me that he feels like we need to find a church and reconnect with our faith, that he had a need to strengthen that relationship with HaShem. He had been spending some time with Mr. Backyard Neighbor and I think this was the catalyst for his “awakening”, if you will. Then he tells me he’s fairly certain the Backyard Neighbors got it right. Inside, I jumped for joy!



The next day, we were putting up corn in the deep freeze and realized we didn’t have enough room for all of it and I asked him if we could take it to the Backyard Neighbors, and if it looked like a good time, could we have a conversation with them about where we were in our thoughts. And, that’s just what we did.



I won’t give you all the details about why we’ve chosen this path, why we think it’s right, and what we are learning. You see, the most important thing I learned from Mr. and Mrs. Backyard Neighbor is that being a witness to others on behalf of HaShem doesn’t require a bunch of shouting, browbeating, and condemnation. The best witness for Christ is a silent witness; the one you learn to watch, to take notice of their example, and to crave the peace they have.



So, if you have specific questions, ask away. If you want to just sit back and watch the change happen, that’s ok too. Just know, I will not debate or argue with you. We know what’s right for us and are comfortable with that and ask that you let that be enough.



Shalom! (Peace!)

When I was 17...

When I was seventeen I had a step mom. There was nothing in the world I couldn't tell her. She took me in and treated me equally as one of her own and equally as the adult I so desperately wanted to be.


She taught me that being an adult didn't mean you couldn't still have fun.
She taught me what it meant to be a free spirit.
She taught me what it meant to work hard for what you wanted.
She taught me to make the perfect fried egg.
She taught me how to pinch pennies.
She taught me what it meant to be dependable.
She taught me that just because you were mad at someone you didn't stop loving them.


She taught me all of this and so much more.


Of all the things I remember, I remember most how infectious her laugh was. But I also remember...


Listening to her sing "Bobby McGee" at the VFW and being a little jealous that I couldn't pull off a Janis Joplin cover the way she did.
Sitting up late while my dad was in Saudi with the bag of Oreos we hid from the kids and a full gallon of milk. We'd read his letters and gorge ourselves on cookies and milk.
Staying close after her and my dad split and he was seeing someone else.
We'd go to the bar on the weekends and get smashed, go back to my house, and piss off dad's new girlfriend (who I couldn't stand) by making the noisiest breakfast two drunk women could make.
Shopping at flea markets and yard sales and marveling at how she could find the most awesome things and make them into something new and beautiful. If you ever wondered who first thought of repurposing someone else's old junk...I'm pretty sure it was her.


I've known she was sick for quite some time. She sent me an email and told me. F-ing cancer.


 I've been internally kicking myself for months because I wanted to see her and knew there was no way right now. Fibromyalgia and diabetes wouldn't allow it. I've been kicking myself for months because I didn't just ask for her number to talk to her on the phone. But I'd let her know in other ways I still loved her. But now, in retrospect, a damn Facebook message seems so inadequate.


And now I'm filled with regrets, and I'm beating myself up, and I'm dying to kick and scream and throw things.


Because I just found out she's gone.  She lost her battle with F-ing cancer and I won't get to hear her laugh one more time because I didn't ask for her number so I could call her. And I don't even know why I didn't ask.


And I don't want to write about this anymore. And I don't want to talk about it. I know which thoughts are rational and I know which ones aren't.  I just needed to regurgitate what was going through my mind.

A little Hello...

One would think that with all this free time on my hands lately I would've found time to blog more.  Mostly, I'm just trying to get a routine established. I also have significantly limited my time on the computer. After all, the hours of sitting in a desk chair, and what it did for the pain levels, were the very reason I stopped working.

I had an MRI done shortly before I quit my job and finally got the results back. They found mild to moderate stenosis and some arthritis. For those not familiar with the term "stenosis", it is a narrowing of the joint space in the spine which, in turn, pinches the nerves in the spine.  This explains so much about the pain and numbness I've been experiencing. I see the rheumatologist in November, and am trying to find a new neurologist. Once that happens, I'll be able to figure out what the next step in the plan is to fix this.

I'm still on hiatus from Grace's story. But again, trying to stay off the computer.

I've had a lot more time to spend with "J", which I've really enjoyed.  I think it's been good for him, too. The dogs make me crazy, my husband is awesome, my dad is here and is a huge help when I don't feel my best, and I am now the proud owner of a cat named Ninja.

Ninja is the only pet in the house that is truly mine. She prefers me, naps with me, and is usually in my lap. We won't discuss the fact that I have a suspicion that I'm allergic to her. I just keep pretending it's not really happening. She's brought me a lot of joy.

I am also the proud owner of a kitchen aid stand mixer. I've spent many years coveting one. My dad bought it for me as a thank you for my part in helping him get moved. I still haven't used it, it's just too hot to bake. However, I can occasionally be found standing at the kitchen cabinet where it's stored, and muttering, "My precious..."  Not too much, but maybe just enough to make my family fear I might be Gollum's long lost cousin.

I'll try not to be so lax in my updates. I think I can handle sitting here long enough to make a couple posts a week.

Be back soon... :)

Gotta take the bad with the good...

So, I've mentioned recently on Facebook that there are big changes in my life. Really big changes....

As most of you know, I've struggled for quite some time with fibromyalgia and a couple of other pain causing conditions. Fibromyalgia has pretty much taken over my life. It wouldn't be so bad if I had some kind of pain management. But, I don't. I've had adverse reactions to all three FDA approved drugs prescribed for fibromyalgia pain. The only pain relief I've ever had has come from narcotic pain relievers. I absolutely refuse to get into a daily habit of taking them to manage the pain so, I just deal with it. Problem is, I'm not managing it well.

It seems lately that I miss more days at work than I manage to make it in. Mornings are the worst time for me. Despite taking a muscle relaxer twice a day, I am so cramped and stiff in the mornings that I can barely function. Generally, it's 10 or 11 o'clock before I'm as limber as I'm going to be for the day, and before I feel like I can finally pull myself together enough for a shower or put on a bra. Not to mention how many near misses I've had with falls in the mornings. It's kind of like walking on wet noodles. Not really effective.

I realize that my bra habits might be too much information; however, when you're toting around as much as I am in that area, it's a big deal.

All that being said, the difficult, life changing decision is that at the end of this month I will become a housewife/stay at home mom. There are a lot of sacrifices that come with this decision, and I won't bore you with all the details.

Overall, my close friends have been so supportive. They realize how much I need this time to take back control of my life and try to get healthy again. I'm reminded a lot lately of how special my friends are. I'm very selective when applying the word "friend" to any person in my life. I KNOW a lot of people, my friends I can pretty much count on one hand. So, thank you Sheryl, Sara, Julie, Penny, and Stephanie for your support, for understanding that even though I try not to complain, sometimes I just need to, and for being available to listen. I love you ladies.

That being said, let me also say that my husband is such a trooper. Once I finally decided to explain to him what was really going on, he wasted no time in understanding and supporting me. We made this decision together. He's taking on a lot by being the only bread winner in the house. But, we have a workable plan and we can do this. I have been truly blessed by having this man in my life. He's my lifeline.

So, now you know. There's the big, life changing decision. Hold a good thought for us because it's going to be an adventure.

Remembering teachers....

Have you ever stopped to think about what made your favorite teachers so great? In the past 24 hours I have.

While I remember most of my teachers, there are only a few that really stand out. This isn’t just because I liked them on some instinctive level. These were the teachers that I actually learned from, the ones who made the subjects they were teaching me interesting, the ones whom I can personally thank for my basic grammar and spelling skills.

1^st Grade, Mrs. Thatcher – I’m sure I learned a lot from this lady. What I mostly know is that she hugged me – every day. She was kind, she was patient with a very stubborn and willful six year old who didn’t always deserve it, and she never made me feel inadequate. I’ve forgotten a lot of teachers through the years, but her kindness has always stuck with me.

7^th Grade English, Mrs. Ragland – What an amazingly fun lady! She reminded me yesterday about Momma Comma, Papa Period, and Baby Semi-colon and I couldn’t help but smile a little. And, while I can’t recall how the songs went, I can use a comma (most of the time correctly), a period, and a semi-colon. She had this way of making any subject interesting, and is the one who helped me realize that putting my thoughts on paper was the best way to rid myself of all the clutter in my head.

The first day in class she handed out a worksheet. There were instructions that I pretty much ignored. I completed the first item, which was to put my name and the date on the worksheet. At item two I hesitated, it was some off the wall request to do something humiliating. I, being the shy type, and my first day in a new school filled with people I didn’t know, wasn’t about to do something so mortifying. So, I continued to read the items on the worksheet and each one was worse than the last. Finally, the last item on the test said to only complete item number one, which I had already done. In the meantime, there were people shouting silly things and walking around the room clucking like chickens.

Back to the instructions for the worksheet – they were, “Read the entire worksheet before you begin.” It was a test to gauge our ability to follow instructions.  Thank goodness I didn’t do something ridiculous.

I also remember that she paddled me once. I don’t remember why, but I’m sure I deserved it.

12^th Grade English, Ms. Fulmer – Ms. Fulmer was a no-nonsense kind of gal. She didn’t coddle her students. She had expectations and you met them, or dealt with the consequences. However, she was also fun. She made Shakespeare interesting by making it relatable. She’d pull out all the thees, thous, and thines, and give you the dialogue in modern English so you really grasped the story.

Through 11 years of schooling I never grasped the concept of diagraming sentences, until her. She made it a point to keep every student in her class engaged for the full fifty minutes of her class. She just laughed and shook her head when David P. announced that he was going to be a gynecologist. I believe she loved her job and she loved seeing us learn. I also believe she regarded us each as individuals, respected our self-expression, and saw us as much more than the subjects of her job.

Keyboarding, Mrs. Rose – I don’t recall if it was 10^th and 11^th grade or 11^th and 12^th grade that I took her classes. She was not a favorite among students and I never understood this. I, for one, adored her.

This is a woman who kept a closet in her classroom stocked with unusual items. There were, among a few items, lipstick, deodorant, feminine hygiene products, peanut butter to get gum out of your hair, hairbrushes and combs, hairspray, and a multitude of other items you couldn’t even imagine.

She was fond of handouts that had nothing to do with the subjects she taught. In particular, I remember a day she was trying to remember what she did with a handout on STD’s. She walked around the room for ten minutes, scratching her head and muttering, “Sex, Sex, Sex. Now what did I do with that stack of handouts? Sex, sex, sex….”

How could one not love her? J

When on Facebook, I often feel proud in seeing what most of my former classmates post. Most of those that I attended high school with seem to have an above average grasp of spelling and grammar. Most of us can properly use a comma and know the difference between your and you’re. It’s because we had great teachers.

Anyway, my point was just to remember the teachers who go beyond what’s expected and remind them that they did a fabulous job. They put up with a lot and they deserve it.

I was going to write a poem...

But it didn't work out.....

I used to be a chameleon

Fading in and out

Adapting by color

Blending with my surroundings

But someone melted my crayons....