Unapologetically Me Part Two

Standing in my own truth. At times I feel as if I cannot breathe with the truth swirling around me.

My 54th Summer is coming to an end. As of the late the crisp morning air reminds me that Autumn is not that far away. Last week I watched as my grandson began kindergarten. My Summer flowers are no longer appeal to me. I am ready for mums and to decorate for Fall.

This truth that I find myself staring into at time arrives like gentle waves lapping at my feet. Then there are other times it cuts through me like a harsh February wind.

One thing I have always had difficulty with is letting people see who I really am. I envy people who can be their authentic self without hesitation. I have never been able to fully do that. Those that do make it look so easy.

To quote a teeshirt I saw at Art Beat…. it said

I love Jesus, but I cuss a little.

For today, that sums me up. More to come at a later date.


Be a blessing,

Mary Therese
“Instead, as God’s ministers, we commend ourselves in everything: by great endurance, by afflictions, by hardships, by difficulties, by beatings, by imprisonments, by riots, by labors, by sleepless nights, by times of hunger, by purity, by knowledge, by patience, by kindness, by the Holy Spirit, by sincere love.” 2 Corinthians 6:4-6

Unapologetically Me

See that little girl in the center, mouth wide open with the pixie?

Yep, that’s me.

You see, behind those expressive brown eyes and that smile is a child who was able to see the world in ways that she could understand, but lacked the courage to talk about it. The proverbial old soul. In hindsight she had and still does for that matter, gifts of the spirit. What was lacking was the ability to acknowledge what they were. She just “knew” that she “knew”.

Her gifts are those of wisdom, faith, prophecy and distinguishing between spirits. These gifts are a blessing. They also carried a heavy weight for one so young.

Every day life stood out to her. To what might be insignificant to others, was the opposite to her. She recognized the importance of a moment. It was something as simple as driving down State Road Two, at the hill passing Bendix Woods going home from the farm. The moon following her on the South side of the rode while the stream of headlights heading West passed them by. She knew this was what it meant to take note and be present.

Playing croquet in her grandparents backyard drinking iced tea/lemonade. Sitting at her grandpa’s feet as he played Beautiful Dreamer on the organ. Picking strawberries on hot Summer days. Eating braunschweiger on Ritz crackers for lunch with her mom while the big kids were at school. Waiting for the 3:30 whistle to blow at Dodge, knowing any minute dad would come out of the foundry. It was a contest between her and her three siblings to see who could spot him first. At a young age she knew this was the stuff life was made of.

Her heart had room enough to love everyone. She felt for the underdogs, and the unjustice that they endured. At about this age she and her childhood neighbor used to feed the foster child a few doors down. She was put out early in the morning and stayes out all day. They were powerless to make things right, but powerful in their own way. They did what Jesus said “Feed the hungry” “Love our neighbor” It was a natural instinct to love that little girl, even if just with peanut butter sandwiches and Kool-Aid.

To be continued….until then,

Be a blessing,


Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching -Romans 12:6-7

Change within…..

We all start on the outside
The outside looking in
This is where grace begins
We were hungry, we were thirsty
With nothing left to give
Oh the shape that we were in
Just when all hope seemed lost
Love opened the door for us

Sidewalk Prophets

54 years. That is how long it has taken. 54 years of trying to find my way.

The past two years I have withdrawn from all who are important to me. Isolated myself in these four walls of my bedroom. Neglected my health and my faith.

In the past two weeks there has been a stirring of sorts in the deep recesses of my soul. “You’re wasting days”, Spirit whispered one morning. Changes need to be made. Hard, heart splitting wide open changes.

Ask any of my children and they will tell you the movie I watched a gazillion times during the early years after my divorce was Hope Floats. It wasn’t the romance between Sandra Bullock and Harry Connick Jr. that appealed to me. It was the relationship between the mother played by Gena Rowlands and Birdee. Ramona says something to Birdee that has come to mind as of late. She says to her daughter who is floundering

You think life goes on forever? You think behind every chance there’s another chance and another one and another one? It’s the worse kind of extravegance the way you spend your chances, Birdee

I’m running out of chances and it is an extravegance of the worst kind.

Self care is #1 on my list. I need to walk through the door that love has opened. I need to accept His grace and mercy. I need to stop comparing myself and believe that He loves me flaws and all. My wounds will heal.

Once I believe I am enough, once the nightmares stop, once I walk through the door and take care of me I will be a better mother, grandmother, daughter, sister,auntie and friend.

I’m learning to let go of people I love and have loved. To recognize that their season in my life is over. Some I thought would never leave, ever. The grief washes over me when I least expect it. Then there are others that I believe I am too much for. That, however, is for another time.

I am taking big, brave steps. I am enough. I will find my peace I will walk through the door He opened with courage and confidence. Then and only then will I be the person He intended me to be.

Be a blessing,



I know that life goes on just perfectly
And everything is just the way that it should be
Still there are times when my heart feels like breaking
Anywhere is where I’d rather be

—John Denver

Yep. I’m a John Denver junkie. I won’t apologize for it. The above line has been looping through my head for days.

Last night I had a horrific dream that I cannot even speak of. So real, so frightening and left me so alone.

I’m longing for something that doesn’t even have a name. Fitting in, maybe. Answers to questions unknown. Selfishly wanting to feel appreciated. Just lost.

It’s a struggle. Time to dig my heals in with my faith and with my God. His love never fails. I need to remember that.

Now I must sleep.

Be a blessing,


Ambitions Of A Night Owl

It’s 11:41 p.m. Sunday night. Not only am I wide awake but I am motivated to get stuff done. Since the rest of the house is quiet, painting the hallway is out of the question. In all seriousness, I would start if it wouldn’t bother my people.

Here I sit. I cleaned out my drawers and one of my bedroom closets. I sorted my laundry and grabbed what I could find in Jace’s room and sorted his as well.

The meals are planned for the week, including the breakfasts, snacks and lunches for the littles. I have an order of supplies ready on Amazon and a week of crafts and activities in mind. Two of my moms returned last week from maternity leave. My days are filled once more. It will take some doing to get back in the routine of babies and toddlers but I look forward to it.

Right now I feel like I am looking at a wall of t.v. screens and each one has a different thought, project, idea or mission. So much to do. So little time.

I close my mind to the menial tasks of the day. It is time to focus on what matters most. Self care. Simple daily/nightly rituals. My bedroom is my sanctuary, my safe place, my space. It is here where my prayers are said, where I breath life into my dreams, where I let go of that which no longer serves a purpose.

It is here where I long for those that I miss. Where I believe that love heals all wounds. It is here that I talk to God and wait for His response.

I guess being a night owl is really about self preservation. It is a time of busy-ness and quiet. A time to be.

Be a blessing,


But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed. Luke 5:16 NIV

January In Indiana

A thought about the cold and snow.
Is it cold? Yes.
Is it snowy? Yes.
Is it inconvenient? Yes.
Do we live in Northern Indiana? Yes.

The city is keeping up with the streets as best they can. If you don’t like it, apply for the job and do it better.

Salt does not melt ice at sub zero temperatures.

If we switch our focus to what is good then all of the goodness pour from us.

We all have our struggles, let us not allow the weather conditions to bring us down or seep into our every day interactions. Easier said than done at times, but it is possible.

See if a neighbor needs anything from the store. Tip your pizza guy a bit more for braving the elements. Help someone load their car at the grocery. Being kind makes the day better. Share a smile, pay it forward at Starbucks drive thru, be kind to the cashier. It doesnt take much to change the mood of the day.

An hour ago I was a bit overwhelmed. I stopped by the side of the road and told Jesus to take the proverbial wheel. He did. My anxiety dissipated and all is well. I shifted
my perspective and asked for help.

If this were April or May it would be one thing. We need to remember where we live.

Indiana. In January.

Be a blessing,


Today Has Been A Good Day

 Image result for good day

Today has been a good day.  Yesterday not so much.  Well, the day was good, but once evening fell, my spirit did right along with it.  I tried to shake it, however, I just felt an overwhelming sadness.  The best thing for me to do at a time like that is pray.  Pray and remember all that I have to be thankful for.

On Monday my sister texted me reminding me that it is Januarie! Laughing to myself I knew what she meant.  The newest season of The Bachelor was starting that night.  For you seasoned Bachelor fans, I thought she meant to write It’s Juanuary for when Juan Pablo was the bachelor. He turned out to be a total creep, to put it kindly.  Clare was right tho. It is Januarie.  As in Arie Luyendyk.  He is this seasons pick.  

I didn’t watch it on Monday.  I DID record it on my DVR.  Soooo…..I watched it last night.  I am glad I did.  (don’t judge)  The craziness of it all made me chuckle and it brightened my mood.  Now I am hooked to this season and am committed to seeing it through.  

Now back to the original topic.  The day.  It wasn’t anything special.  I took Alex to work this morning. When I got home I shoveled out front.  I was frozen solid by the time I got in.  Baby Jack was still asleep so I curled up in bed for a brief time to warm up.  It did the trick.  

The boys have been exceptionally good today.  We played, read books over and over and had a lunch of  fruit crackers and lunch meat.  I cleaned the kitchen, threw laundry in and purged the refrigerator of leftovers that are older than I care to think.  

Tomorrow is Friday and the end of the Christmas break.  Jace starts back to school Monday and Tuesday my Clemons girls make their return + 1.  I will have a newborn to love on again!  Busy busy days.

When the days are good I will embrace them.  When they are not so good, I know it will pass.  No cookies needed so far.




Good-Bye 2017

It is 3:55 a.m. on December 30, 2017. Sleep eludes me. Mostly in part to a stupid cold. I just took Tylenol and Alka-Seltzer Plus that claims to relieve every symptom I have. Here’s hoping.

This very week of the year has been a difficult one for me for about 18 years. It is for all of us a time of reflection on some level.

I think back to NYE’s of the past and I can smile. When my boys were little, our house was the one that siblings and friends dropped their kids for the night. Their dad and I were never big on going out, so for many years we just hunkered in and let the kiddos play. Before we had children we usually had company, watched the ball drop and were in bed by 12:30.

After my divorce, I have very few memories of NYE. A couple years I went to Shelly and Mark’s. It was fun but I hate driving home that late.

This year will be quiet. Jace is at his Grandma Beth’s for the weekend, the weather is rather brutal and I need to get well and take Christmas down. Not much happening here.

As I mentioned in a FB post, WFRN D Vincy Willamowski asked her radio audience what they were taking into 2018. First and foremost, I am taking COURAGE. I am certain I will slip up now and then, but that is #1. I am going to really really try to be unapologetically myself. At times,I keep thoughts and opinions to myself. I struggle with feeling like I am not heard so I hold back. Let’s face it, I also worry about what people will think. I am so envious of those that ooze confidence. I lack in that area.

I will also take into 2018 the art of being present. The last, again, 15-18 years I have been in survival mode. Busy working, studying, keeping a roof over our heads and never allowing myself to settle in. Our home is very unconventional and tension filled at times, but it works for us for now. I love our home. It is the first time in two decades that I feel home. A dream that vanished was raising my family in the same house for years and make memories within those walls.

I am resentful at times that I was unable to give the boys the life I had. I feel like I failed them in some way. I was so wrapped up in keeping things going that, in my mind, I was unable to build the home I desired. I worry that the memories I made were not happy ones. I couldn’t afford to take vacations. It was all I could do to make ends meet.

That being said, what I will leave in 2017 is regret. It serves no purpose.

Two more days of 2017. I will look at the young men I raised and stand proud. We made it on our own.

I will take hope with me. I will take a stronger faith in my Heavenly Father. I will reach out more. I will soak up the good that was in 2017 and leave the tangled mess of bones behind.

So tell me…..what will you take into 2018? What will you leave behind?

Blessings to you all,


To blog, or not to blog…..

The past several years I have contemplated starting a blog. I convince myself otherwise, thinking to myself that I really don’t have anything to say or offer. The next thought…look at it as a journal, a way to track the every day happenings, thoughts,dreams, wishes. The next, next thought…nobody cares what you have to say. Well, you get the idea.

Thanksgiving weekend 2017, I post on Facebook a short bit about what an incredibly fun time Thanksgiving day was. Record breaking for sure.

My cousin Andy’s wife, Jill messages me that I need to start a blog. She offered to set it up and insisted I get it started. If she believed in me and my ability then I definitely should. Right? Right! Right?

My Goddaughter Sarah got married on the day after Thanksgiving. Jill brought the subject up again. Fast forward to Monday and she messaged me tossing around titles and taglines. Hence, Inspired Insanity was born.

So here I sit, still afraid that I have nothing to say or anything to offer. However, if Jill believes in me, I shall also.

My blog will express my daily thoughts, prayers, dreams, fears and ambitions that I have. The issues that come from being a frustrated perfectionist. The challenge of being an Empath in a world that doesn’t understand. The joyful and tearfilled journey that I have been on as a mother of two high functioning sons that are on the Autism Spectrum. Also, to one son that is the jelly filled center of the ASD sandwich that completes me.

I will share the the reality of depression, anxiety, chronic pain and what it takes to find sunshine on the other side of the darkest days.

I have lived, like so many of you through unimaginable sorrow and joy unspeakable.

The stories will tell themselves

So, thank you Jill for encouraging me and mostly for believing in me when I don’t always believe in myself. I love you more than I love my luggage.

So it begins.