Thursday, October 15, 2015

Bloom for Women Retreat

credit


Ladies!  I'm so excited to tell you about this.
This is what we have been looking for.

Bloom for Women and I have teamed up to create the most amazing retreat.  It will be life changing and magical, with a dash of Camp Scabs wildness and the tool building skills of Dr. Skinner, therapist and betrayal trauma expert.  

Can't wait to see you!
Get the all details and register here.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Rise Up


Rise Up

This voice!  This woman!  This style!
I {heart} her new release Rise Up...so play it loud
This one is for some lovely ladies who put their hearts into The Togetherness Project.  Despite whatever life brings (and it always brings a lot) these ladies know how to Rise Up and get stuff done. 

And, this one is also for all the brave ladies who are attending the project this Saturday, Oct 17.   
Especially the ladies who will wake up early Saturday morning, put on their lip gloss, grab something to eat and drive to the venue alone.  And, to the ladies who park in the back and sit in their car gathering the courage to walk through the doors and enter the world of The Togetherness Project.  And quietly praying that no one recognizes them and at the same time praying that someone will recognize them.  To you, I say this: 

While you sit in your car gathering courage, blast this song, then walk confidently into the project and find your tribe.  
Rise Up ladies!  

Wish I could be there with you!  
Have the best weekend.

xo,
Scabs

Monday, October 5, 2015

Seeds

Carl Bloch


2006

Ms. Kimberly is weird, really weird.  The kind of weird where she birthed her 9th child in her bathroom with no one but herself to catch the baby girl she would name Crystal.  The child's cord was wrapped around her neck and Ms. Kimberly simply unwrapped it and continued to birth her child, as if it was the most normal thing.  She is earthy and unattached.  She would take crystal rocks into the desert and sing to the moon.  She would invite me to chew mushrooms and have a psychedelic experience, I never did (psychedelic isn't my thing).  She might be a witch and a hippie and the product of freedom after an abusive marriage, but these are the reasons I like her.  I'm fascinated by her stories, but mostly, her questions.

I worked with a small, loud Italian woman who's nails were long and perfectly manicured.  When she talked in her lilting Italian accent she would wave and explain everything with her hands.  One day while telling me something and waving her hands she poked me in the eye.  More than poked me. Her perfectly manicured nail scraped my eyeball.  I know, it's gross and you're cringing right now. But, I tell you this because I want to explain why there was a patch on my eye when I saw Ms. Kimberly that day.

She took my hand, led me to the kitchen, poured me a bowl of miso soup and asked about my eye. Of course, I animatedly told her about the small Italian lady with wicked fingernails.  Ms. Kimberly always had a different way of looking at things.  She asked, "What is it in you life that you don't want to see?"

"Uhhhh," I staggered.  She dug deep.

At that time, my life felt messy and there were lots of things I didn't want to see.  Mr. Scabs hadn't yet become Mr. Scabs but things still felt uneasy.   Our marriage felt young and new although, at the same time it felt difficult and confusing. Things I had solidly believed in were fading.  My once strong faith felt like a puff of pixy dust.  Our love felt thinner than rice paper. My heart knew the direction an unnurtured relationship takes but I couldn't quite mend it or grasp why this was happening.  And so, I kept on being hesitant and confused.

I'm not sure why this story is spilling out on the page today except that it leads up to one solid event that seeded itself in my chest.  The moment is small and brief but it has the most incredible and powerful impact.  Let me be clear, the impact wasn't immediate. This small event is a seed that took it's sweet time growing.  The memory of this moment is still fresh.

For years, I had been doubting faith.  Doubting marriage.  Doubting myself. Doubting purpose.  Faith has never been natural to me.  It is far easier to fill my mind with doubt, alternative thinking and logic.  When faith has filled me, it has been the result of brow-sweating hard work, humility and searching.

One day, while standing in Ms. Kimberly's grassy backyard, I felt fire blaze through my chest answering the question I was asking, "Is Christ really real?"

All it took was that one brief, seeding moment, to know that He is.
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