My journey from "No"

Growing up, the most common response I recall hearing from my parents was "no"....no discussion, no question asking, just a quick, automatic, pre-programmed "no". I understand that "no" is quite often an appropriate response to a child, especially when she is the youngest of 5 Farmer's daughters, but in these situations...
...Can we give Suzy a ride home from the picnic? no.
..I'm super tired from unloading hay bales all day could I sleep in past 8am tomorrow? no.
...may I have an afternoon snack? no.

Consistency with "no" responses seemed to be my parent's strength.

Inevitably, my first responses as an adult on my own were equally quickly and consistently delivered "yes"es. The result - I over-committed, under-delivered, gave too much of myself away in unhealthy relationships, struggled with boundaries, suffered with my risky/poor decisions, enjoyed the freedom but suffered the fall. I had not developed the ability to apply good judgement, question things, see that I had choices, be rational, think things through, use my head.

But God blessed this broken road, giving me the chance to do things differently once I became a parent. I'm fighting the automatic "no". I'm working toward a middle ground that sounds like...
..."let's talk about it"
..."say more about that"
..."why is this so important to you"

I hope I've inherited my parent's consistency gene, but intend to use it in a different way.

Running in the Rain

It's been a warm, rainy summer here in the Northwoods. The kind where the air hangs so heavy with moisture it's hard to predict if it will mist or downpour.
This is the summer I started running in the rain.

I told myself I'd catch a cold, ruin my new running shoes, look like a fool, upset my carefully styled hair. I didn't listen.
I just stepped out into it.

That voice continued to challenge me....keep it short I'm drowning here...this is non-sense I'm soaked...what will people say when you show up at your kid's soccer game drenched...your mascara is running.

I was able to run farther and with more ease than at any other time.

Perhaps it's the fact that it's just me and the rain out there...the world has gone inside where it's safe and dry.